XVIII
On Saturdays, the library was usually deserted, and that day, in particular, since most students had gone to Hogsmeade. Scorpius didn't envy them too much, as there was a biting wind outside, and a drizzly rain proved that autumn had already arrived. Given the circumstances of the weather, the warm, quiet library was a very pleasant alternative. However, two annoying details weighed on him. The first was the nagging pain in his back, which Scorpius had acquired lately from shovelling coal. He hadn't shovelled that much soot in a long time, if ever, and everything still reeked of burnt matter. Filch had evidently decided to take full advantage of their punishment, as he had supervised them for nearly four hours, ensuring they didn't leave their work area. Moreover, their inability to use magic wasn't making their task any easier.
However, the physical exhaustion was nothing compared to the irritating piece of parchment in front of him that had remained blank for a long time. Holding the quill in his hand, he rocked back and forth in his chair, staring at the ceiling, searching for inspiration there. He had no idea how to meet Professor McGonagall's request. What could he possibly write to the people who had lost a child? For them, it would be of little consolation to know it was an accident, an unfortunate series of events. The result remained the same. Adding to that, it was the Slytherin's fault, even though most wizards didn't expect much better from him.
Annoyed, he forcefully set down the quill on the desk and ran his hand through his hair. Tact and sensitivity had never been his strong suits. He had always found it much easier to stir up trouble than to express sincere apologies and admissions. Of course, he knew he should apologise, but just as such words were hard to pass through his throat, they were equally difficult to inscribe on the parchment.
Suddenly, a soft creaking of the door interrupted his thoughts. He instinctively glanced at the clock; it was half past five, which explained how Albus had appeared there.
"I thought I'd find you here," the Gryffindor remarked, walking over to the bench.
"Didn't the Marauder's Map tell you?" Scorpius replied.
Albus shrugged.
"It's well hidden; I don't make a habit of tracking people."
Scorpius chuckled.
"What a waste," he commented but then smiled slightly.
Apparently, Potter took it in stride because he eventually pulled a chair closer and sat down nearby.
"How are things?" Albus inquired.
Suddenly, Scorpius remembered that he should be angry with Albus. Without Slytherin's knowledge, he had gotten himself involved in the whole affair, dragging his father into it and continuously meddling in things that didn't concern him. Nevertheless, Scorpius couldn't muster any rightful anger at the moment. Despite everything, when he looked at Gryffindor's sincere face, he felt more gratitude than anything else.
"I think things are going reasonably well," Scorpius replied. "All signs point to us being right about White. They found her wand, and it was she who cursed me. Additionally, Willick will get a good scolding because he didn't keep an eye on one of his precious little books. I'm starting to believe that I'll get through that with just a slap on the wrist. Nevertheless, the next time, warn me if you decide to fly to Daddy."
He expected Albus to be outraged, but instead, he smiled in a very un-Gryffindor-like way.
"If I had told you, I'd probably still be petrified in the broom closet."
Scorpius laughed but then grew serious.
"Thank him for me. His intervention made everything go much smoother than I expected. Of course, nothing is certain yet, but at least for now, it seems I won't end up next to Uncle Lestrange."
"Lestrange?" Albus asked, his tone changing.
"Rudolf Lestrange, one of the hardcore Death Eaters who's rotting away in Azkaban. My grandmother was his sister-in-law. Unfortunately, my family was full of such scoundrels."
These words made Albus strangely sombre. Well, he came from a family of heroes, while Scorpius could only boast of a plethora of dark wizards.
"Was?" Potter questioned.
Scorpius began to wonder when the conversation shifted to his family. He usually avoided that topic like the plague. On the other hand, he knew Albus wouldn't judge him based on what he heard.
"Most of them died during the war or later in Azkaban. The great Black family," he added with sarcasm. "A bunch of maniacs obsessed with blood purity and dark magic. From what I've read, one was as bad as the other..."
"Sirius Black was my father's godfather," Albus interjected, silencing Scorpius. "Dad never spoke of him as anything other than the bravest wizard he knew. James has him as a namesake".
Scorpius looked at him, barely containing his surprise. He hadn't expected that their families shared similar relationships, and it was even harder for him to believe that his tainted family tree occasionally produced some honourable exceptions.
Instead of dwelling on that unpleasant topic, something else caught his attention.
"I see your parents like to give meaningful names. James - after your grandfather and your father's godfather, and you after Albus Dumbledore and..." Scorpius had the feeling that only then did he fully comprehend it. Of course, he had heard Potter's middle name before, but he hadn't connected the obvious facts. "And after Severus Snape."
The Gryffindor nodded.
"I think my dad hoped I'd go far with such patrons. Unfortunately, it seems I possess neither the wisdom of one nor the courage of the other."
It was interesting that among all the qualities of the last Hogwarts Headmaster from Slytherin, Albus had chosen courage. It was typically attributed to Gryffindors. Well, it seemed that not everything was always so obvious and straightforward.
"And your names?" Potter asked, apparently not wanting to dwell on his imperfections.
Scorpius couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"In my family, there was a tradition related to constellations, maybe you've noticed: Andromeda, Sirius, Draco, and since I was born under the Scorpius sign, I'm Scorpius. There's no deeper philosophy to it. I prefer not to disclose my middle name."
"That bad?"
"Tragic."
Albus nodded, signalling that he wouldn't press the matter. Instead, he looked inquiringly at the empty parchment spread on the desk.
"Are you catching up on your work?"
That question brutally brought Scorpius back to reality and the unpleasant task assigned to him by the Headmaster. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed slightly.
"It's part of my punishment from McGonagall."
"What are you supposed to write?"
The irritation returned, so Scorpius got up from his chair and approached one of the bookshelves.
"An essay, three feet long, about the consequences of being a Slytherin scum," he muttered with anger, even though Albus had done nothing to deserve it. Unfortunately, within sight was only a Gryffindor onto whom he could vent his frustration.
"Really?"
Scorpius closed his eyes and rested his heavy head against one of the shelves.
"A letter to the White family."
That single sentence effectively silenced Albus for a while. Apparently, he also hadn't expected anything like that, and he observed Scorpius in silence with a puzzled expression.
"I've been sitting here for about two hours, hoping for inspiration, but no matter how I approach it, I just don't know what to write."
"What would you like to hear if you were in their place?"
"In their place, I'd like to see my head on a silver platter with an apple in its mouth," Scorpius growled.
"That's a starting point, too. Maybe instead of fretting about it, just assume that no matter what you write, it will be wrong."
"Thanks for the incredibly useful advice," Scorpius muttered.
A moment later, he heard the scraping of a chair, and he turned around just as Albus headed for the door. The Gryffindor stopped in front of the exit and looked at Scorpius, still wearing a gentle smile. As usual, he seemed to understand more than he showed.
"If I lost someone close, I'd just want to hear that the perpetrator is simply, humanly sorry," he stated, nodded, and then left the library.
The perpetrator... In an increasing number of incidents, Scorpius was the perpetrator. May that be the last one that ended so tragically?
It was late in the evening when Scorpius left the Astronomy Tower, having sent one of the owls to the White family's home. He felt mentally exhausted but paradoxically lighter as if he had transferred a portion of his guilt to the ink on the parchment. As the bird disappeared into the darkness of the night, Scorpius sighed and headed towards the dormitory.
Dear Mr and Mrs White,
After what has happened, I have no right to address you directly, but on the other hand, I feel obligated to convey all aspects of those events.
I was in a severe conflict with your daughter, although it usually didn't extend beyond the typical inter-house clashes that occur at Hogwarts. I'm not sure what ultimately prompted her to turn to dark magic, but it was a matter of luck that I wasn't in her place. It's probably of little comfort to you, but I still felt the effects of that curse.
You probably think now that it was just revenge on my part, and to some extent, that's true. I wanted to find out who was responsible and pay them back tenfold so they'd never try similar tricks on me or my friends.
However, if I had known the consequences of my desire for revenge, I would never have gone through with it. I know that no words will fix what happened or lessen the hatred you must feel toward me. From my side, I can only say that I am incredibly sorry, and I will carry the weight of that event for the rest of my life, regardless of the Ministry's final judgment.
I do not intend to make excuses or seek refuge in justifications. It was my stubbornness and obstinacy that led to the tragedy that I cannot repair. A talented young witch has died, someone who could have achieved great things in the future. She died because of me and my reckless actions.
I cannot in any way make up for your loss, but if the need arises, I am at your disposal.
Sincerely,
Scorpius Malfoy
With the start of the new week, Scorpius and his friends returned to their lessons. It seemed like nothing extraordinary, but there were still furtive glances cast their way. The details surrounding the accident remained a secret, but even without them, the students had their suspicions. No one had any doubt about why the trio of Slytherins were on Filch's works and had to clean the owlery. It didn't take a genius to connect the dots.
Of course, Scorpius paid little attention to these glances. He had long become accustomed to not being the most popular person in the school, and the current situation didn't differ much from his usual life. What really bothered him was the ban on using magic. He knew that, in case of an attack, he would be left with words as his only defence. Although words had always been his powerful weapon, he still felt somewhat exposed. Fortunately, the other students were unaware of that punishment, but they were aware that the last person who had crossed his way ended up in the morgue, and that was enough to keep them at a distance. He had no intention of correcting their misunderstandings, even though the reality was quite different.
He entered the dungeon where Potions class would take place and almost immediately felt the gaze of most Gryffindors upon him. Dean Westwood, in particular, looked oddly pale when Scorpius entered, and it reminded him of their last conversation in the library. At that time, Scorpius, having done his revenge, warned Dean that he had been quite lenient with him. Comparing that situation to what happened with White, those words had turned out to be prophetic. Did Dean think that he might have lost his life due to silly quarrels? If the other students suspected at least half of what had happened, Scorpius must appear to them as a vengeful psychopath.
Then he saw Albus and felt even worse. Albus didn't look in his direction like the others, but he was hunched over a textbook. Scorpius immediately noticed that his face was oddly drawn and tired. Apparently, the other students sought answers from Albus, knowing that he was friends with Scorpius. Scorpius felt irritation; Potter was the last person he wanted to involve in that situation. Albus was too soft.
He walked over to his desk, threw his textbook onto it, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked provocatively at the other students.
"What do you want to know?" he asked in a calm tone, feeling the surprised glances of Karl and Zack on him.
The rest of the Gryffindors stared at him with a mixture of curiosity and anger, but nobody rushed to ask questions.
"What happened in the owlery?" Rose eventually spoke, the first to grasp Scorpius' intentions. Apparently, even she couldn't protect her cousin from invasive questions, although it was hard to say whether she had figured out the truth. Given Albus' nature, she might have known more than the others.
"White started a fire, and then she fell out of the window, hit by a ricochet," Scorpius replied calmly, trying to keep the story as brief as possible and avoid delving into the details.
"Why would she do that?" asked another Gryffindor, a short, freckled boy named Marvin. "Did you attack her?"
"We just wanted to talk," Zack interjected from his seat. "But she saw it differently."
"Anyone in her place would've done the same," added another Gryffindor, Jane. "If three Slytherins were attacking me, I'd defend myself too."
"Exactly! You heroes, ganging up on an unarmed girl!"
"We didn't attack her!" Zack defended himself.
"You're murderers!"
"They should expel you from school!"
Accusations were being thrown more boldly and aggressively, and out of all the Gryffindor students, only three remained silent: Albus, Rose, and, strangely enough, Westwood. The latter seemed to be scrutinising Scorpius with his gaze but, unlike the others, didn't intend to make baseless accusations. Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the classroom grew tense, and Zachary got more and more involved in the argument with the Gryffindors.
"You weren't there; you don't know what happened!" he snapped, standing up from his seat.
"It's not that hard to imagine," Jane retorted. "We all heard about what happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Peggy had a sharp tongue, and we know that Malfoy doesn't like competition."
"You've got to be kidding, you imbecile!" Zack was angrier with each passing second, and it wasn't going to end well.
"Oh, shut it, Nott. Nobody asked for your opinion," Marvin chimed in.
"Everyone, just shut up!" Albus unexpectedly shouted, standing up and slamming his open palms onto the desk.
Scorpius winced inwardly. Meanwhile, Jane and Marvin looked at Gryffindor as if they saw him for the first time.
"And what's it to you?" Jane asked.
Albus trembled with barely contained fury.
"Everything! And most importantly, I know that White wasn't as saintly as she pretended to be! She nearly..."
"Potter, I don't need a lawyer," Scorpius snapped, cutting him off.
Albus looked at him, partly surprised and partly angry.
"What did she do? Why did she deserve death?" Jane asked, alternately glancing at Scorpius and Albus.
Potter appeared increasingly confused as he realised that Scorpius probably had no intention of revealing the whole story of the curse incident to outsiders. Unfortunately, the cat was already out of the bag, and everyone expected answers. Scorpius sighed, suppressing his irritation.
"White cast the Curse of Wrath on me," he stated. "She sent me to Mungo's for a week, and if it weren't for Albus, I'd probably end up in the cemetery. On that day in the owlery, we weren't sure if it was her, but apparently, White thought otherwise and panicked."
"A nice story, playing the innocent victims. Too bad White can't defend herself anymore. It's hard to do with a broken neck. Do you have any evidence? Because, sorry, I won't believe a Slytherin's word," Marvin retorted.
Scorpius felt like he was slowly losing his composure and patience. He knew what he had to do to shut them up, but it was the last thing he wanted. He should have just hit Albus over his stupid Gryffindor's head. If he had stayed quiet, the others would have yelled at each other and vented their hatred of Slytherins, and the whole affair would have died down. He couldn't care less about Gryffindors and their words; he might have cared in the past, but currently, they just rolled off him.
He felt the gaze of all the students in the classroom, and he wanted to leave. However, he couldn't allow himself to be a coward. So, he sighed heavily and then rolled up his sleeve, revealing the faded mark. It wasn't as distinct as when he left the hospital, but it was still recognisable.
"I wouldn't brand myself with the Dark Mark," he said with a hint of sarcasm, seeing that Marvin and other Gryffindors visibly shuddered at the sight of Voldemort's symbol. Brave Lions, indeed. At the same time, he saw fear on the faces of the other Slytherins. They understood very well what it meant to have something like that on the arm. Each of them, to a greater or lesser extent, had felt the consequences of having Death Eaters in their family. They were all somehow tainted by it, with the only difference being that Scorpius was even more. However, their silent fear only annoyed him further. He didn't want the sympathy of the Slytherins or the pity of the Gryffindors.
He allowed them to stare at him and then covered his arm, adding a touch of menace.
"I highly doubt that White planned to kill me. She clumsily cast a powerful dark curse, unaware of the consequences. I also didn't wish for her death, but unfortunately, she wasn't as lucky. You can think whatever you want, whisper behind my back, but if you don't stop tormenting my friends, we'll have a different kind of conversation," Scorpius said.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Albus wincing slightly. He knew that was mainly about him, and he certainly didn't feel comfortable about it.
"You can call me a murderer, a Death Eater, or whatever you like," Scorpius added to conclude the matter, "but the truth is, I nearly died because I wasn't going just to stand by. It all started when I helped Esther, and I acted more like a Gryffindor than anyone would expect from a Slytherin. And although your sense of justice may not contain people like me, I won't hesitate to do it again."
The Gryffindors remained silent for a while, looking at Scorpius in disbelief. It's hard to say what would have happened when they finally snapped out of their shock if the whole performance hadn't been interrupted by the entrance of Professor Smilthon.
"Malfoy, wait," the professor said as the students began leaving the classroom one by one.
Scorpius nodded and stopped in front of the professor's desk. After the last student had left and the doors closed behind them, the Potions teacher cleared his throat and looked at Scorpius.
"Professor McGonagall informed me about the recent events," he began in a gentle tone. "As the head of Slytherin House, I want you to remember that if you ever need help, you can always count on me."
Scorpius restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He never held a special respect for Smilthon. Even then, he felt that the professor said that out of obligation rather than genuine interest. He was not someone who inspired trust in Scorpius. However, he had promised McGonagall that he would behave properly. So he nodded and thanked him briefly.
"Now, off you go to your next class," Smilthon said with a jovial smile.
It had been a long day, but apart from the tension before Potions, nothing extraordinary had happened. After all the recent events, it was a relief to simply return to studying, where the biggest problem was trying to avoid getting a Troll on an exam. Suddenly, all the issues with the curse, the owlery, London, and the Ministry's investigation seemed so distant and almost unreal that, for the first time in a while, Scorpius could stop thinking about them. He stopped analysing all the events endlessly, not contemplating every possible scenario. He focused on his classes, not allowing his thoughts to wander among events he no longer had control over.
Only when he stood in front of the Headmaster's office door in the afternoon did the realisation of his situation painfully hit him. He wished that everything could go back to the way it was before that disaster, but subconsciously, he felt that it was no longer possible. Too much harm had been done.
He let out a slight sigh and knocked on the door. A brief invitation allowed him inside, and to his surprise, he noticed a textbook on the desk. It was a book of spells he had taken from home last year, the one he had tried to learn Proteus Charm.
He sat down at the desk and looked at the Headmaster questioningly.
"There are still a few charms here that I deliberately skipped," McGonagall began, understanding his consternation. "Mainly due to their deep connection to runic magic. Currently, I consider it a priority for you to make up for your shortcomings in that field."
Scorpius cringed internally. He had almost forgotten about those wretched runes McGonagall kept pressing him about. Unfortunately, McGonagall had an annoyingly good memory when it came to these matters. At the same time, he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid the subject, although the thought of learning runes from scratch made him distinctly queasy. He had a feeling that it would be a road to misery and that he probably wouldn't develop an affinity for runic writing.
His doubts must have shown on his face as McGonagall regarded him disapprovingly.
"If you wish to excel in practical magic, a knowledge of runes is essential. Not every charm can be cast with a mere wave of the wand. By ignoring runes, you will cut yourself off from a powerful branch of magical knowledge."
Scorpius held back an eye roll and nodded.
"I will do what needs to be done," he grumbled reluctantly. Arguing with the Headmaster, in that case, seemed utterly pointless. Accepting the situation, he smiled with a bit of defiance. "I'll learn these miserable runes, even if I have to pound them into my head with a hammer."
"I hope it won't come to such drastic measures," she replied. "In the meantime, make use of it."
After those words, McGonagall slid a small leather-bound book in his direction. Scorpius picked it up and read the embossed title on the cover: "Ancient Runes in Practical Application." As he flipped through its contents, he noticed a piece of parchment inside, presumably placed there as a reminder. There were only two words written on it, in the Headmaster's handwriting: "for Scorpius."
"Take it," McGonagall added. "It contains well-laid-out basics of runic magic and several valuable examples of its application. Once you have mastered that, you should be able to join that year's group easily. At the same time, you have my permission to practice that outside of lessons, but only for educational purposes."
"With my current lack of skills in that area, it would be difficult for me to use it otherwise," Scorpius replied.
A shadow of a smile appeared on McGonagall's face. "I'd rather be safe than sorry."
Scorpius wasn't sure whether to take that as a sign that McGonagall had such confidence in his abilities or that she was greatly concerned about what might cross Scorpius's mind. Considering the recent trouble, he was more inclined to bet on the latter.
Scorpius, irritated, crumpled up the parchment and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. He knew he wouldn't particularly like working with runes, but he hadn't anticipated that the feeling would be mutual. He had some introduction to the subject from his last meeting with McGonagall, but currently, trying to reproduce basic runic symbols from memory on a piece of paper, he realised that they more closely resembled the scribbles of a drunk house elf than anything that could serve as a foundation for a spell. He wondered whether his memory had such gaps or if he was just truly clumsy with runic inscriptions. For sure, Zack's clumsy, scratchy notes would probably be safer to use.
Scorpius grimaced at the thought, for who knew what would happen if he attempted any charm using his current runes.
Dismayed, he packed his books into his bag and left the library. Maybe a good meal could work wonders on his runic skills because, so far, he felt no closer to becoming a master of Ancient Runes than he did the day before.
Upon entering the Great Hall, he immediately spotted Karl and Zack settling into their seats. The latter seemed unusually excited, which didn't bode well for their detention with Filch.
"What happened?" Scorpius asked as he sat down beside them.
"Do you know who will teach us the Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Zack asked rhetorically. "Professor Scamander. I'd never have guessed that she knew anything about Dark Magic."
Scorpius shrugged. He'd had little interaction with their Care of Magical Creatures teacher and knew next to nothing about her. He wasn't particularly upset about missing her class, but he understood Zachary's fascination with the enigmatic professor.
"Would you like to swap? I'll return to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and you can handle Runes for me," Scorpius proposed with a sarcastic smile.
"Runes? Since when are you studying Runes?" Zack asked, surprised.
"The issue is, I'm not studying them yet, but I will be soon," Scorpius replied.
Zack visibly shuddered.
"How do you stand it?"
Scorpius also shrugged. He had no intention of revealing to Zack that the sessions with Professor McGonagall were some of the better things he'd encountered at Hogwarts.
"It seems I have thick skin," Scorpius replied vaguely.
Zack shook his head, and then Karl tapped Scorpius on the shoulder.
"I think I've figured out what we'll be doing after classes today," Karl said, nodding toward Professor Longbottom, who used magic to levitate large wooden crates filled with pumpkins into the hall.
That sight reminded Scorpius that it was Halloween, a time when the school always held a festive dinner and various performances by the school's ghosts. Such an event required proper preparation, and Filch would never miss an opportunity like that.
"Do you remember what was done in the past with those who brought bad news?" he quipped sarcastically to Karl, who simply threw up his hands in a helpless gesture.
Karl was right. When they arrived at Filch's office, he didn't lead them to the detention room but instead directed them to the Great Hall. They had three hours to prepare the room under the caretaker's watchful eye, which involved setting up tables, arranging the pumpkins, securing a multitude of magical candles that transformed into increasingly eerie shapes the longer they burned, cleaning up the ensuing mess, and creating a stage for the performance. They worked, relying solely on their own, as Filch remained seated in his chair and showed no inclination to participate. They received only minimal support from Professor Longbottom, who carved really funny faces into the pumpkins.
Scorpius and Karl were in the midst of moving one of the long tables, which was quite challenging even for two people when the doors to the Great Hall creaked open. Scorpius straightened up, wiping his sweaty face. He was surprised to see a few Slytherins from their year entering the room.
"Do you need help?" one of the girls asked.
"Do you really doubt our decorating skills that much?" Zack replied with a sly smile. Their trio had already guessed why the others had come there, or more precisely, what words had prompted them to do so.
So far, Scorpius had felt quite lonely even among his own, so this loyalty seemed at least strange to him. Nevertheless, he understood their motivation. In the end, he bore the punishment because he was the only one brave enough to resist those who tried to oppress them. Esther was not the only one, after all. Everyone sooner or later faced it, both at the hands of the arrogant Ravenclaws and the noble Gryffindors. No one knew better than Scorpius what it felt like to stand alone against a whole group that considered you worthless. And even though they didn't support him then, even though he always resisted alone, it seemed that Slytherins finally realised that his courage also came with a great cost, and his defiance often brought unpleasant consequences. How many times had he been beaten, robbed, or simply insulted in the worst possible ways over the past three years? He had long stopped counting, long since become accustomed to it. And yet, despite it all, against everyone's expectations, he persisted, ready to challenge anyone, even those stronger than him.
Yet, despite that, he wouldn't blame the other Slytherins. No one had the right to demand that they stick their necks out. Sometimes, it was just easier to pretend not to hear the mocking voices or ignore the accusations that burned like hot metal. That was much simpler. However, Scorpius was incapable of doing so. He couldn't help himself. Even though he knew how great the cost of his courage was, he couldn't change who he was.
And then he saw more people in the door, and it occurred to him that life would be far less interesting if he had chosen a different path. Albus, with Lily and Rose, along with several other Gryffindors, walked in. What was even more surprising was that among the group were Jane and Marvin, who had recently accused him the most.
"You're doing a terrible job," Rose commented, her arms crossed over her chest. "Slytherins seem truly incapable of anything, even arranging a few chairs."
"Well, as a snake, I have trouble with that; in the end, I didn't have hands," Zack retorted, biting back his annoyance and eliciting a chuckle from Lily.
Albus shook his head slightly before making his way into the Great Hall. As he passed Scorpius, he patted him on the shoulder and joined Karl, who wrestled with a heavy table. Scorpius remembered how many months ago he had visited the greenhouse to help Potter work off an unjustified punishment. The tables had turned.
A few minutes after seven o'clock, the tables began to fill with the delicious dishes brought by the house elves. The air was filled with hundreds of candles, and cheerful pumpkins adorned every corner, creating a festive atmosphere. The doors to the Great Hall were opened, and gradually, students started to enter, taking their seats at their respective tables. The small group of Gryffindors and Slytherins who had prepared the hall earlier were seated on the steps in front of the stage, where a ready platform awaited the ghosts. They didn't speak to each other much, not forgetting who sat on the other side.
However, they all had a strange sense that something extraordinary had happened that day. They had crossed some unspoken boundary that no one had dared to cross before. No one but Albus and Scorpius. They had crossed that boundary a long time ago and knew very well that beyond it, they didn't find an enemy but another person, perhaps different but still valuable.
Sitting shoulder to shoulder on the steps and looking at their small achievement, they felt that it was only the beginning and that it was the only way to prevent further tragedies.
"Thank you," Scorpius said after a while. "For everything."
Albus seemed genuinely embarrassed.
"I think you're giving me too much credit. I didn't do anything special."
"You saved my skin. At least twice. That's more than enough for me."
Potter gazed at the candlelit hall for a while and then looked around at the students who had gathered.
"They didn't come here because of me."
Scorpius shrugged.
"If that is the result of my foolish actions, then I guess it's not so bad, is it?"
Albus smiled faintly and seemed like he wanted to say something more, but Lily, who sat right next to Scorpius, leaned in and whispered in his ear:
"I'm glad you stayed."
She didn't have to explain any further; Scorpius understood perfectly. She must have known what had happened, what had nearly happened. He felt a lump forming in his throat but managed to speak calmly.
"I'm glad too."
Their relationship with Albus was well known, but his attachment for Lily… well, it still was a secret.
"Congratulations," Professor Longbottom said, interrupting their conversation as he approached the seated students.
"You can be proud of your work. Gryffindor and Slytherin will each receive thirty points."
The students erupted in cheers, and Professor Longbottom smiled indulgently.
"Now, sit down at the tables; it would be a shame for everything to go cold."
The other students began to leave the steps, and Scorpius glanced at Karl and Zack, who only gave a slight nod.
"Enjoy your meal and have fun," Zack called out, and together, they made their way toward the exit. Scorpius couldn't help but notice the surprised expressions on the Gryffindors, especially Lily, who looked saddened by their departure. Albus placed a restraining hand on her shoulder to prevent any ill-considered action. It could only lead to more trouble.
"Wait," Professor Longbottom suddenly spoke up. "It wouldn't be fair for you to miss out on the reward after all that work."
"But Professor McGonagall…" Karl began.
"If Professor McGonagall will have any objections, you could direct her to me. Now, let's finally sit down to eat because Sir Nicholas is getting impatient."
Scorpius gazed at the professor for a moment and then looked at his friends, smiling. A moment later, the three of them joined the rest of the Slytherins at the table.