Chapter 24

"You saw your mother's face?!" Albus's incredulous voice rang out much too loudly in the library. His own brother turned to glare at him. Albus blushed, lowering his voice. "Are you sure" he asked keenly, meeting Elle's intense hazel eyes. She nodded her sharp chin once, her mouth a set line. She was always a rather serious person, but this took the cake. Albus honestly didn't think it was possible for her to make a joke at this moment in time.

"Did you go back?" Elle's eyes flashed "of course I went back! But by the time I did, she was gone… she saw Sam drag me away. I think she thought I was in trouble" Elle ended sadly. Albus tried to look sympathetic, but he was finding it hard to keep a composed face. They had been working to find her mother for almost two years, and this was the first real proof it hadn't all been in vain. Scorpius kicked him under the table to stop the grin from turning up the corners of his mouth.

"So, what next?" Albus asked, drumming his fingers on the table. He was raring to go. If Elle had said 'grab your wand, we're going to duel death eaters and giants and harpies in the dining hall right now' he probably would have already been half-way out the door. Instead, Elle just shook her head and bit her lip (which already had a nasty scab on it, she really needed to get out of that habit). "I don't know, really. I guess I need to wait for another letter."

For a second Elle's fierce exterior crumbled, and Albus had a horrifying moment where he thought she might cry. Scorpius was already there, patting her shoulder. Elle closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then blinked them open as if nothing had happened.

Before Albus could decide how best to respond to this (he really had no idea where to even begin), Rose was tapping him on the shoulder and ordering him to move his chair over. "Nice to see you too" he grumbled as Rose set her book bag down with a thud. Rose rolled her eyes. "I am glad to see you, as you very well know. I'm just three hours behind on my studying schedule and I would very much like to catch up."

Albus shrugged, secretly thankful for the interruption, since Elle seemed totally composed now. He leant back in her chair, meaning to stretch, and instead jumping in fright, hitting his knee hard against the underside of the table. "Ow! Blimey Ruth, I didn't hear you come in." Scorpius supressed a snort and Albus shot him a glare. "Where did you two come from anyway?" Albus asked, trying to surreptitiously rub his aching knee. A faint pink tinge rose to Ruth's cheeks. Rose cleared her throat once and muttered "detention."

"That really was rotten luck" Sam said. "Who would have guessed there would be profs on both sides of the corridor? Still don't understand how you got away Isidre." The small boy shrugged, looking uncomfortable to be put on the spot. "How did you get up to Elle's dorm?" he asked back, "only girls are supposed to be able to walk up those stairs."

"What I want to know is how your suspensions went" Rose cut in, looking pointedly at Albus. This time it was Albus's turn to evade questions. "Fine" he grunted. "What did you dad say to you?" Rose pressed, clearly curious. Albus shrugged her off again. "I thought you were three hours behind on studying?" Just then, the clocks chimed four. Rose squeaked. "Four" she corrected, hurriedly digging through her bag to find a quill.

The next few hours were spent with the sounds of the scratch of quill on parchment and the turning of pages in books. He could tell Elle was distracted, because she actually asked Rose a question about charms, which she never did. Other than that, however, it felt like just an ordinary afternoon. Sam got bored after an hour, as usual, and started trying to transfigure his ink pot into something called a 'rubix cube', which wasn't working very well (Albus did not think that 'rubix-o cube-o change-o' was a real spell). Isidre somehow managed to smear ink all across his forehead while plotting a difficult planet path on his star chart, and Ruth tried to wipe it off with her flowery kerchief, much to his dismay and Albus's amusement. Scorpius was more engrossed in his muggle studies textbook than any sane person should be.

All of it was so normal. It felt wrong and dirty, to have such a lazy afternoon in the library when somewhere out there, Elle's mum was… was doing God knows what. If Albus could barely stand it, he wondered how Elle felt about it all.

When Albus reiterated this thought to Scorpius later that night, while they sat across from each other on Scorpius's bed, his curtains shut tight to hide from Tobias and Esmond, the blonde boy grimaced. "I think it's really hard. Did you see her face when she saw us come back? And when Rose mentioned the detention? She blames herself I think." Albus hadn't really noticed either face, but he nodded along like he had. Scorpius was usually right about these sorts of things.

"How does she stand it. How is she not like, trying to run out there and find her all the time?" This had been a thought on Albus's mind for a long while, but he had been too shy to ask it. He knew it was a bit of a rude question. Scorpius laughed. "What" Albus asked defensively. Scorpius's shook his head, his shoulders still moving up and down in silent giggles. Albus hit him with a pillow. "I'm sorry" Scorpius said, holding his arms up to block the next blow. "It's just that sometimes you can be such a Gryffindor."

Albus held the pillow above his head unsurely, trying to decide if that had been a compliment or an insult. Scorpius composed himself enough to scramble to the other side of the bed before he could make up his mind. "She would have nowhere to start" Scorpius answered more seriously, eyeing the pillow wearily. Albus sat back down on his heels. He supposed Scorpius was right.

Albus flopped back on the pillow. It was getting late, but just as he was getting ready to get up, Scorpius asked a question. "What did your Dad say to, when you got suspended?" Albus frowned. "You don't have to tell me" Scorpius rushed "forget I asked." "No, it's okay" Albus said quietly.

Albus was leaning over his desk, adding the last few touches to a humerus cartoon he had sketched where Hagrid had accidentally let loose a dozen pixies into the library. He was trying to get the face of Madam Pince when one of them stole her glasses just right before he sent it off to Scorpius when his father knocked on the door.

This had been the moment of his suspension that he had been dreading. He had heard the muffled voices of his parents fighting a few days ago, and ever since he had been waiting for his father to confront him. He didn't really think he could stomach his father telling him that he was disappointed in him. Not when he already felt like such a disappointment to the family. Harry had invited him on a walk. They'd gone to the cemetery.

For a long while, they'd just walked around the gravestones. Albus had been half expecting them to stop at his grandparent's grave. He thought his father might have composed a speech about how his grandparents sacrificed everything for their family, and how he was tarnishing their reputation. About how Potters were supposed to orchestrate pranks, not harass the kids of death eaters who were just trying to get by.

To Albus's surprise, his father didn't stop at any particular stone. Instead, he settled on one of the benches along the walking path. Albus had perched uncertainly beside him. It took his father so long to speak that Albus had started to convince himself that his punishment was that his father would never speak to him again. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Why did you do it?" Albus's hear sank. The only thing he wanted less than his father chastising him right now was to have to explain himself. "Er…" His father waited. "It made sense at the time. All the clues pointed to him." Albus had then proceeded to explain to his father about the train incident, how they had seen the boys talk to Goyle at the feast, how oddly Goyle had acted leaving McGonagall's office, and about how they knew he was the one who was in charge of the luggage.

"I didn't ask you how you got to your conclusion. I'm asking you why you did it" had been his father's response. That had stumped Albus for a moment, because he had thought he had just explained 'why'. The silence seemed to be the answer Harry had been looking for however, because he just nodded as if Albus had made an astute observation instead of gaping at him silently like a fish.

"And why did you lie about the Polyjuice potion?" His father asked. "I didn't want Scorpius to get into more trouble with his Dad. He helped me make it, and the book we used we stole from the Malfoy library." Albus blushed slightly with that confession. Harry seemed to accept that answer.

"And… why did you think that I would back you up in the lie?" Harry asked. This had been a harder question for his father to ask. Harry's voice had been strained. Albus was feeling bold – this conversation was going better than he'd thought it would. He hadn't even been told off once yet. "I thought you might be, secretly, a little… proud of me. I was fightin- I was trying at least, to fight for what's right." Harry winced. Albus thought he had said the wrong thing, but he didn't know how to backtrack, so he stayed silent.

His father sighed tiredly. He did that a lot these days. "Your heart was in the right place. I can't punish you for that, though your mother disagrees." Albus felt his heart soar, but his rising joy was soon brought back down to earth. "Do you know why I took you here?" Harry asked, waving his arm at the general area in front of them. Albus shook his head.

"I've spent a lot of time in graveyards." Albus was unsure how to react to that. His father's green eyes had a faraway, misty look to them. "A lot of the people I visit are there for the 'right' reasons. They were fighting for what's right, or at least trying to, based on the information they had. But they still ended up in a graveyard" Albus suddenly felt a little sick.

"I'm not trying to scare you Albus." "I'm not scared" Albus replied, though he felt like that might be untrue. Harry ran his fingers through his messy hair. "There are few things I wouldn't do to change how most of the people I visit got to where they rest now." Harry turned now to fix his gaze on his son. Their eyes were perfect reflections of each other.

"I need you to understand, son. I am fighting this fight. I know your heart is in the right place, and you want to help your friend, but I need you to trust me. I've got this handled." They stared at each other. His father had been the first to blink. He'd sighed, turning back to face the horizon. "You aren't going to give up, are you?" Harry had asked. Albus had sat back as well, staring at his own hands, balled into fists in his lap. "Would you?" he asked.

His father never answered his question. The only other thing he said to Albus before they headed back to the house was this: "you got it wrong, you know." "huh?' "the combination to my briefcase. It's your birthday, not James'." Albus had not replied, but he had taken his father's hand on the walk back. It was something he hadn't done since he was a little kid.

Albus laid back on the bed, the pillow he'd been using as a weapon now tucked under his head. Scorpius was beside him. He didn't say anything about his story, but he didn't have to. Albus knew he understood.

"Al?" Scorpius asked tentatively after a time had passed

"Hmm?"

"Do you think that Tobias and Esmond are going to try and murder us in our sleep?"

Albus mumbled something into the pillow

"What?" Scorpius asked

"I said I better sleep here just in case. Strength in numbers."

"You just don't want to get out from under the blanket"

"Sue me. It's March in Scotland and we're in a dungeon."

"At least move over, you're right in the middle."

Albus did not reply because he was already asleep. Scorpius tried to push Albus over to the side of the bed to no avail. Sighing, the blonde boy laid himself uncomfortably on the very edge of the mattress, being careful not to touch the sleeping boy. It was quite a while before he could fall asleep himself, partly due to the awkward way his legs were folded, and partly because his heart was beating unusually fast.