The Good Son

Chapter Ten

Recovery

"Master . . . Let us punish him . . ." the Shadow whispered, flitting around the corners of his peripheral vision, her heavily lidded eyes gleaming even in death. He sat alone in the train compartment, the Scarlet Hogwarts Express bringing him home after a very exciting and stressful first term of seventh year. He had been sitting with the other Outcasts, locked in a very heated snogging session with Cassiopeia, who had now nipped off to the loo, informing them all very nonchalantly that it was woman's week for her. Scorpius had left very quickly after that, looking quite queasy – he had firmly averted his gaze from his best friend and sister for the entire train ride. Xavier had disappeared with Kat, who had wanted to find her younger brothers. Delphin had left the compartment fairly early in the train ride, closely followed by Rose – which he found incredibly suspicious – and Hugo was sitting with his friends from his own year; probably snogging Claire Williams. Frank Longbottom had just barged into his comment, spat out several malicious insults, before hastily retreating at the sight of Albus' wand. Albus chuckled at that, as if he needed a wand to cause him pain.

"Hush Bella," said Albus calmly, "He is not worth the energy."

"I . . . should have . . . killed his father . . . when I had the chance," said the Shadow darkly, "When I . . . tortured . . . his namesake." Bellatrix Lestrange had been the first shadow he had ever summoned and she had proved most helpful and loyal to him. The spirit of the dark witch knew what it was like to be shunned for being different, Andromeda and Narcissa had both shunned their older sister when she had begun her own descent into the dark arts. She knew the cruelty of those in power as well, her hatred of muggles stemming from a filthy vagabond who had taken advantage of her when she had been fifteen, taking advantage of the beautiful young girl who was walking home to Grimmauld Place alone. Albus had long conversations with Bellatrix, she was his favourite Shadow, often keeping him awake at night by sharing her knowledge of the dark arts.

"Go on then," Albus chuckled, "Hurt him as you will, but no permanent damage." He could have sworn he saw the Shadow pout before disappearing in an icy breath of chill air, reminiscent of the grave.

"You shouldn't listen to her so much," said a second Shadow, coming into his field of vision as Bellatrix departed, "She's too malevolent." This shadow was clearer than Bella, less dark as it were, with a stronger grip to the world of the living. Perhaps because this Shadow had been an inherently good person before he had been killed.

"Powerful though," noted Albus, "As are you Uncle Fred."

"How spiffing that my nephew thinks me powerful," Fred Weasley chuckled in amusement, "I am not as strong as half of those you have summoned."

"You are the most human," said Albus, "And you are family . . . you should never have died."

"This was not the future I died for," said Fred, his amusement giving way to sadness, "I died for equality, not for a mere reverse in the balance of power."

"I wonder what Uncle George would say if he heard you using such big words," smirked Albus, causing the spirit of his uncle to laugh.

"You should stop relying so much on Dark Magic Albus," said Uncle Fred, shaking his head as his humour faded.

"There is no such thing as dark magic Uncle Fred, there is just magic – and it can be used for good or bad."

"Who are you talking too?" asked Cass as she walked back into the compartment, a strangely guarded expression on her face. Fred flickered and vanished, disappearing once more into the recesses of his heart.

"Just thinking out loud Cass," he lied convincingly, loping an arm around her as she leant into his shoulder.

(*)(*)(*)

Albus had no sooner set foot into Malfoy Manor for the Christmas holidays of his seventh year than he was hit by a stunning spell, quickly crumpling to the ground. Scorpius caught him hurriedly as he fell, nodding sadly at his father and Hermione, both of whom stood before the door holding their wands. Draco was shivering slightly; he had never thought that he would one day have to raise a wand against one of his own children, even if Albus wasn't technically his, it still struck the fatherly chord in him.

"We've prepared the Drawing Room," said Hermione anxiously, they had been forced to act, Albus was becoming too powerful in the dark arts, Cass had written home with her worries, and the Elder Malfoys had decided it was time to act. None wanted to do what they had to do, but they had no choice. For Albus' wellbeing, no matter how much it hurt them emotionally to have to do this against his will, they had to do it. Hugo and Scorpius nodded as they half-carried, half-dragged their brother in all but blood to the designated room, Cass and Rose following.

"This won't hurt him?" asked Cassiopeia quietly, as she stroked his cheek, the look of surprise had been etched across his face when the stunner had struck him. She was scared for him, their marks were one thing, accidental and easily obscured by glamours, but Albus was delving deeper. He just couldn't stop on his quest for knowledge; she didn't want to think how many Shadows he had summoned to himself in the course of the past year.

"No," said Hermione, as she fitted him with dampening bracelets of his wrists and ankles to keep him still after they woke him, if he fought back they were doomed. Draco moved quickly, using his knife to cut open the boys shirt, they needed direct contact with his heartbeat. He nodded at Hermione, and the couple placed their open palms across Albus' chest, feeling the rhythmic pulse of his heart thudding against their fingers.

"He's waking up," said Rose, hastily checking that the dampening bracelets were active.

"What's going on," Albus asked blearily, his eyes suddenly flaring as he felt the restraints on his arms and legs, "What are you doing!" he cried in alarm.

"We're erecting wards over your Shadows," said Hugo, "You're slipping mate, we're tired of seeing you like this."

"I'm fine," pleaded Albus, terrified at what they were doing, they were trying to shut him away from his power source, to take away his connection to the dark, "I'm fine."

"You are not fine," said Draco wearily, "I can feel it . . . Merlin boy, how many have you bound to yourself?" The well of dark energy that he was sensing within the recesses of the raven haired boys heart was overwhelming; he had never felt it's like before – and he had once been a death eater.

"Not many," Albus begged, "Just enough to be strong . . . don't take my power away. . . I need it, please Draco, please don't take it away."

"How many?" asked Hermione, her voice sharper now, she saw that Draco was beginning to crack under Albus' pleading, he had always had a soft spot for the boy, especially after Harry had begun beating him.

"Thirteen," he stammered, the other teenagers took a step back in horror, save for Cass who remained at his side, "Please Aunt Hermione, please . . . I need to be strong . . . I can't let anyone else hurt me." That was what broke her heart, the knowledge that Albus had had to turn to the dark arts for a sense of protection because of what his father had done to him; but thirteen Shadows? Morgana have mercy, Voldemort had only summoned and bound one – his mother; Merope Gaunt – and think of how powerful he had been!

"Nobody is going to hurt you again Albus," said Draco, beginning to pump his own magic into the boy's heart, erecting wards and shields and psychic blocks to hold the Shadows at bay. Beside him, he saw Hermione's eye become firm and unyielding as she began to do the same, both of them shocked at the amount of power Albus possessed.

"NO! NO! NO!" Albus shrieked, his chest writhing as he screamed, if his limbs were free they would be kicking and punching out, hastily he began to fight them back, his own energy slamming against the half-erected wards and buffeting them, causing slender cracks to appear in them. Hermione gasped, biting her lip as she concentrated, once they were fully formed Albus would have no chance of breaking through the blocks, but now was the stage in which he could overwhelm them. She felt Rose take her by the shoulder, Scorpius coming up beside Draco and taking his as both their children began to lend them their magical energy.

"Albus, stop fighting us dammit," winced Draco, his skin paling from the strain, a slender rivulet of blood trickling from his nose, before he seemed to relax slightly as Scorpius' magic joined with his own depleting reserves.

"NO! NO! STOP! PLEASE STOP!"

"Albus," said Cassiopeia gently, tears in her eyes as she brought her head down to his so that her hair obscured their faces from view. He froze at the tears, he was making her cry, he couldn't make her cry, not her. Then he felt the wards strengthen and he slammed against them again, causing Hermione to cry out before Hugo came up and lent her his power too.

"Albus, stop fighting them please," whispered Cass, so that only he could hear, her breath ghosting across his own lips.

"I can't Cassie," he begged, sounding like a terrified child, "Please. . . I can't."

"Albus, do you love me?"

"Of course I do Cass," he said, still struggling, Draco was staggering slightly by now, only held up by Scorpius, whose power was already waning.

"Then do it because you love me," she murmured, brushing her lips against his, he looked at her, eyes still full of terror but he nodded slowly.

"Ok," he said softly, relaxing and letting them finally erect the barriers that would keep the darkness trapped where it could do no harm.

(*)(*)(*)

"Why did you do it?" he asked quietly, lying in his bed and not facing her as she sat beside him, her soft hand against his bare side. It was two weeks after the incident, two weeks during which he had avoided the others as if his life depended on it. He couldn't shake the terrible feeling of betrayal, couldn't help from flinching away from them when they made to touch him or speak to him. He was hurt; they had made him feel powerless again, just like his father had. But they did it to help me, a voice said, in his head, and though he knew it was true he couldn't bring himself to forgive them. Draco and Scorpius had hurt him the most, they had become his substitute father and brother, but all he could think off when he looked at them was them holding him down and sealing his dark magic away. Just like Harry and James had sealed away his innocence and happiness when he had been younger.

"Because I was scared Al," she said softly, "I was scared that I was losing you." She alone had been braving the storm, whilst the rest of the family were content to give him his space after he had snapped at them all repeatedly; she alone had taken to coming to his room every night and soothing him to sleep. Her presence kept him sane and helped him cope with his withdrawal from dark magic as a whole. When he woke up yelling, when he couldn't seem to fall asleep, she was there, holding him. So finally after a fortnight of silence when he couldn't bear it any longer he asked her, and he was stung by her response.

"You were scared . . . of me?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. He couldn't scare a person; that was what Harry did. He wasn't his father . . . but he had scared Cass.

"I wasn't scared of you Albus," she said settling down beside him, "I was scared for you."

"Why?" he asked again, shivering slightly under her touch, her cool fingers trailing tongues of fire over his bare skin. He was painfully aware that he was clad in just his boxers and that she was wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt (that she had stolen from Scorpius) and a pair loose pyjama bottoms.

"Because I love you," she said honestly, "And I don't want to see you hurt."

He turned to face her, a light smile on his face, his first genuine smile in two weeks, "I love you to."

"I know," she smiled, "You let them shield you . . . for me."

He kissed her hungrily, before he could realise what he was doing, conveying all his love and lust in that one passionate kiss, his hands trailing through her hair as she scratched his back, wanton , flushed with her own desire. His hand slid up her shirt, before suddenly he pulled away, blushing furiously.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, I didn't th–"

"Shut up," she interrupted, "And take of your shorts."

(*)(*)(*)

"You ok Al?" asked Delphin worriedly, watching his friends hand's shiver as Albus tried to reach for his quill and kept missing. Albus' eyes were permanently bloodshot these days, his body was always being subjected to odd muscle spasms and unless Cass slept beside him at night he would wake screaming at least thrice a night. Their friend's addiction to darkness had been terrifying for them to watch, it made them all limit their own exposure to dark magic and although they still practiced it, they all adopted a more conservative view towards it.

"I'm fine," he said faintly, blinking his eyes to stem the dizziness, "I think I just need to get some sleep." He feigned a yawn before packing his bag and heading up to his dormitory, not noticing the suspicious look shared by Xavier and Kat.

Albus dared a glance over his shoulder as soon as he entered the dorm room, before climbing into his bed fully dressed and pulling the curtains closed behind him. His body shook violently, his voice was raspy as he cupped his palms together, nurturing a few sparks of bonefyre.

"Bella," he whispered, "Bella can you hear me."

"Yes . . . My Lord," she sounded fainter than she had ever sounded before, Albus thanked Merlin and Morgana that he had sent her after Frank Longbottom on the train so she hadn't been sealed away like the rest of his Shadows. He dared not summon anymore, the wards on his heart were too strong to bind a fourteenth Shadow to it without risking death. Bella was all he had left; she fed him what little darkness she could, and in exchange he let her wander the castle freely (Mcgonagall was of the opinion that a particularly vindictive poltergeist had taken up residence in the castle, Peeves was thrilled – even if he couldn't locate his new partner in crime – that he finally had company).

"You sound weak Bella," he murmured, suddenly freezing as his curtains were flung back and he was confronted by Delphin and Xavier, their arms crossed. The Shadow flickered and vanished, disappearing from mortal view.

"I told you he was still practising," said Xavier, speaking to the olive youth beside him who just waved his hand as if to say that this was not the time to worry about who was right. Albus shivered freely as the bonefyre flickered out, his entire body quavered when he saw his friends glare at him crossly.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "It just hurts too much to stop . . . please don't let me hurt anymore." He sounded like a young child, scared and alone, it stunned the other boys; they hadn't heard Albus speak like that since his second year after the summer that Harry had first started hitting him.

"You can't practice anymore Al," said Delphin, not unkindly, as he sat down beside his shivering friend, taking note of his downcast eyes and trembling lip. "Find Scorpius," he mouthed to Xavier, who nodded and took off quickly.

(*)(*)(*)

"What is so important that I had to leave the school on a weeknight?" asked Neville brusquely as he floo'ed to his home, coming up short when he saw his good friends Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, both seated on opposite ends of the room, as far away as possible from each other. They were determinedly looking in opposite directions, with his oldest daughter Alison sitting beside their son James on the loveseat, both glancing around at the awkward room. His wife, Hannah Longbottom (nee Abbot) bustled into the room with a tray of tea.

"Now that you're all here," said James nervously, "We have something we want to discuss with you."

"Oh I'm going to be a grandmother!" cried Hannah jubilantly, rushing forward to embrace her daughter who looked quite baffled. Neville turned to glare murderously at James, who held up his hands in surrender, "I swear she's not pregnant," he said urgently.

"You're not, are you?" he added to Alison in an undertone when Hannah pulled away flushing in embarrassment. Alison smacked him upside the head, "Of course not," she hissed, alleviating her father's suspicions.

"So what is it?" asked Harry, a tad sharply, he really didn't want to sit in the same room as a snake lover like his ex-wife longer than need be.

"One would think you don't enjoy my company," said Ginny acidly before smiling encouragingly at her son, "Now why have you summoned us decent human beings here . . . oh and Harry," she added as an afterthought.

"There's no need to be nasty Ginny," said Neville hastily, he was well aware of her jinxing abilities having co-led the D.A with her when she was just a sixth year.

"Now Neville," said Ginny sweetly, "It's not like I'm going to carve anything into his flesh, Umbridge already had her go at him with a blood quill, terrible things, I'm so glad that they're illegal these days." Neville flushed and fell silent whilst Hannah just looked on in confusion; she truly was a sweet and naive woman. How she had managed to produce the likes of Alison and Frank, Merlin only knew. True, Alison was lovely to look at, but she was cold as an iceberg and as vindictive a bitch as Ginny had ever met. It was no secret that whilst Harry was thrilled by James dating Alison, Ginny heartily disapproved of the match – she would rather her daughter-in-laws have good hearts rather than good bodies. She had met Cassiopeia only briefly but from what she had seen she was sure that Cass was a worthy suitor for her baby boy.

"Well," said James, trying to dim the hostility in the room, "We're getting married."

Ginny scowled angrily, but made to politely welcome Alison to the family. How she longed for the days when she could bend that boy over her knee and knock some sense into him, yes, perhaps they were in love but you needed more to build a marriage.

Such as the ability to not piss of one's future mother-in-law and accepts your future husband's brother.

(*)(*)(*)

"DONT HIT ME DADDY!" he screamed loudly, thrashing around in his bed, his elbow catching Cass in on her shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. She was awake in an instant, glad that she had been putting a silencing charm on his bed to keep the other boys from hearing his screams. They had been getting worse now that he didn't have the darkness to draw out his frustrations and emotions – The Outcasts had begun a system in which Albus was never alone, even when he went to the bathroom one of the boys would be waiting for him – it was helping. As his body was weaned of its addiction though, the emotions he had pushed to the depths of his being were beginning to surface.

"Wake up Al," she said gently, shaking him awake, "Wake up!" she repeated in a more forceful tone when he continued to thrash in his sleep. His eyes cracked open, his expression making him so vulnerable and innocent when compared to the Leader of the Outcasts he was by day, usually maintaining a face a composed emotionless indifference.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he murmured, cringing away as she reached to put her arms around him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, sighing softly before reaching out and forcing her arms to envelop his still heaving chest. He was always like this after a nightmare, afraid of human contact because of what his father, somebody a child should trust the most, had done to him.

"No," he shook his head violently, "I just want to forget . . . Why can't I just forget," he cried, tears beginning to fill his eyes.

"Shhh Al," she said, kissing him lightly on the brow, "Just talk to me." It was the same every night, he would wake up screaming and she would soothe him back to sleep, but not after she made her nightly offer to listen to him as he talked; even though every night he would just shake his head and go back to sleep.

"The first time he hit me," said Albus, surprising her by speaking, he had never spoken about his abuse before and whilst they had all known it was happening, they hadn't known the specifics, "Was on my twelfth birthday." Her eyes widened, that was so horrible, she couldn't even imagine her father doing that to Scorpius and her.

"It was because I had friends you know, I wasn't allowed to have Slytherin friends, I wasn't allowed to be a Slytherin period. He hasn't written me a letter since my Sorting, even though I spent five weeks pleading with him, hoping he would still say he loved me. That Christmas, he didn't so much as send me a card . . ." he went on and on, spilling every detail to her. Even when he had spoken to his mother, the day she decided to file for a divorce, he hadn't gone into detail. He had given the rough summary – his still visible bruises had spoke for themselves back then. Cassiopeia found herself crying as she held him; no child should have to suffer what her boyfriend had. They cried together, staying up till the early hours before they finally fell asleep, her sitting up with her boyfriend – although physically taller and more muscular than she was – cradled in her arms.

That night, Albus Potter finally felt himself begin to heal.

(*)(*)(*)

"Have you thought about a best man son," asked Harry as he surveyed his son and future daughter-in-law, this was the second meeting of the month for the two families to discuss their respective children's upcoming nuptials. Hannah was absent from the proceedings, she had had to take a last minute shift at her pub, The Leaky Cauldron, because her usual bartender called in sick.

"Yes, my choice is rather obvious you know," said James, "Albus is my best man."

The mood in the room seemed to instantly plummet, replaced with a stony silence. Ginny beamed proudly at her son, Harry glared mutinously, Neville fixed James with a look that could kill. Alison just looked uneasily from her father to her future father-in-law, clasping her hand around James' wrist.

"Surely it would be better for one of your best friends to host the honour . . .or perhaps Teddy," said Harry, his voice cold. Ginny fixed him with a glare.

"Dad, Albus is my brother and there is nobody in the world I would rather have there as my best man," James defended his choice.

"It really is James' choice," said Alison, "If he wants his brother there then I support him." The young witch instantly went up several pegs in Ginny's book; perhaps she had misjudged this girl.

"Quiet Alison," barked Neville angrily, and Alison seemed to shrink backwards into her fiancé – that explains her cold personality, thought Ginny sadly, she's scared of her father – "I will not give you away in marriage if there's a Slytherin at the altar."

"That really isn't your choice to make Uncle Neville," said James evenly.

"But it is mine," snapped Harry, "If you want the snake as your best man then I assure you I won't be attending."

"The snake as you call him is your son!" snarled Ginny, clutching the armrest of the sofa so tightly her knuckles went white.

"I have only two sons," declared Harry coolly, "Teddy and James. Now decide."

James hung his head in defeat, and Ginny sighed in disappointment and disgust.

(*)(*)(*)

"Hey Al," said Scorpius, climbing into his bed beside him without waiting for a response and sitting against the headboard as his best friend roused himself, blearily rubbing his eyes.

"It's one in the morning Scor," groaned Albus, checking the glow-in-the-dark display on his watch, which lay discarded on his bedside table, "What is it?" It was a testimony to their friendship that Albus didn't kick his friend out and ask him to come back in the morning, Albus loved his sleep but Scorpius had always been there for him when he had woken screaming, so he owed it to his friend to listen now.

"I need to talk to you," the blonde boy said in a slightly timid voice, making Albus wonder what was on his friends mind. Scorpius was never timid or shy about anything.

"What is it?" yawned Albus tiredly, pulling himself into sitting position beside his friend.

"I love Lily," he said quickly, before he could chicken out. It had been coming on for a couple weeks now, but he had only known it last week during the Quidditch final when he had knocked the Ravenclaw Star Chaser – who happened to be Lily Potter – of her broom with a well directed bludger. The pang in his heart at seeing her fall was all it took to solidify that he more than fancied her, as had the fact that he hit her with a cushioning charm to keep her from injuring herself after she fell. Before that he had just assumed that he had fancied her, noticing the way her hair burned like ruby fire, how she walked with a feline grace that was reminiscent of a lioness, the coppery swirling fames in her eyes, her voice, which could instantly brighten his day.

"Lily. . ." Albus said the name as if he were struggling to recall who Scorpius was talking about, "As in my sister Lily?" he finally asked, eyes comically widened.

"No," Albus breathed a sigh of relief, "I mean your dead grandmother Lily, who do you think I mean?" Scorpius continued dryly, stung at the relieved tone in his best mate's tone when he thought he wasn't in love with his sister.

Seeing the hurt look on Scorpius' face, Albus sighed again before turning to explain, "Look mate, I'm not saying you're not good enough for my sister," Scorpius brightened instantly, "I'm saying you're a bit of a man-whore and that I would rather my sister not be another one of your conquests," he finished bluntly, he really was too tired to use euphemisms.

"It's not like that Al," Scorpius said in a low, sad voice, "I know I'm not good enough for her, she's amazing, and I know I've been the most promiscuous bastard in this school but I really do care about her Al. She's funny, and beautiful, and intelligent and –"

"If you want to date her," interrupted Albus, most of his doubts vanishing as Scorpius spoke because he had frankly never heard his friend talk about any girl like he had just spoken about Lily, "I can't stop you, not after you gave me your blessing to be with Cass . . . but Scorpius she's the only real family I have left, I just don't want to see her get hurt like the rest of the girls who've graced your bed."

"That's just it Albus," said Scorpius, "I don't look at her and instantly want to shag her like the others, I want to know her, to make her laugh, I want to be the one she smacks on the head, you know, like how she used to smack that toe-rag Sparx from Ravenclaw."

"I believe you Scor," he said, "But please don't hurt her, that's all I can ask."

"I'd sooner hurt myself," said Scorpius seriously, and Albus nodded, knowing his friend well enough to realise he meant every word.