Music for writing : Smells Like Teen Spirit by Think Up Anger ft. Malia J (Full Length)
2022 – Hogwarts (6th year of Scorpius and Albus)
Come on, James! Go for it! It was your idea, so do it! If you chicken out, I will, and I'll wreck him. What are you doing? Coward, you're a coward, Potter. I don't care, I'll take care of Malfoy on my own!
1996 – 12 Grimmauld Place
James poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the large table in the dining room. He had been up since dawn, unable to sleep except in brief, restless intervals. But these short dozes were plagued by feverish dreams, where he heard his own voice asking a thousand anxious questions. Then the nightmare would return, and he'd wake up with his heart in his throat, sweating. Each time he awoke, opening his eyes and adjusting to the darkness, he remembered where and, more importantly, when he was. And his stomach would knot into a burning ball, fueled by the sharp sense of imminent danger. Because he knew what was coming, and every fiber of his being told him to be ready, adrenaline coursing through him constantly, his muscles unable to relax.
Frustrated by his inability to find rest, he gave up on the bed.
Before leaving the room, in the dim light from the opened door, he saw his brother's face, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He wasn't sleeping either, obviously. But James didn't invite him to join and left him to his thoughts.
Sitting at the table, the fireplace behind him with its embers still emitting a soothing warmth, he thought he had found calm in the silence and the caffeine when footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Harry appeared in the doorway, followed by Ron and Hermione. From his determined look, James knew they had come to see him. He thought he had left the room discreetly, but he had obviously been wrong. Motionless, the hot cup clenched in his hands, he waited for them to speak.
Harry sat down in the chair opposite him without ceremony. He scrutinized the boy, and James felt the urge to laugh under his intense gaze but kept quiet.
"You're James, right?" he began without greeting.
"You're not sure? I don't think my name is hard for you to remember," James said sarcastically.
Harry looked surprised, then pleased that James was being direct. The silences from the day before had likely tested his patience.
"Hermione thinks…" Harry paused, glancing at the young woman who had taken a seat next to him and was giving him an angry look. He hesitated, then turned back to James.
"She thinks that guy, Albus… She thinks he looks like me."
James remained silent, his lips tightening almost imperceptibly. He sat straight in his chair, facing Harry, unblinking. The burning knot in his stomach had returned.
"You too, Ron?" Harry asked, elbowing his friend.
Weasley nodded, shifting in his chair.
"He's an idiot, but yeah, he looks like you."
"And you," Harry said, pointing a finger at James. "You look like me too. And you bear my father's name."
James remained silent, no emotion crossing his face. He wasn't searching for an escape; there was no way out. Only silence could protect them.
"We can't force you to talk," Harry said, eyes fixed on him, watching every reaction closely. "We know that any information, even the smallest, could be dangerous."
"Then why are you here if you know I can't speak?"
"Are you Harry's sons?" Ron interjected.
James had expected this question, yet he felt a surge of panic wash over him, and he looked down, throat tightening. For a moment, a cold shroud seemed to grip his throat, and he remembered the spell Dumbledore had cast on them.
"I can't answer," he said in a low voice, almost relieved.
"You won't answer," Weasley retorted, slamming the table with his hand. "But to me, it's clear: Harry won! We're going to succeed!"
"Don't be so sure," James cut in, dampening his enthusiasm. "The fact that we're here might be what makes you lose."
"As long as you exist, it means we won," Harry reasoned, shrugging.
James grimaced, uneasy. What did he really know about space-time and the impact of time travel on its dimensions?
"Maybe," he finally said without conviction. "But we don't know how our actions influence the future. What if I go home and find that some people I loved never existed? I have no desire to take that risk."
"Hugo seemed to think you could save us," Hermione whispered, likely regretting her dangerous curiosity. "Protect us from suffering…"
James shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. The temptation was real. He had considered it many times since they arrived in this era. What if Hugo was right? What if they could play with time, manipulate it at will, change the future, make it brighter, and erase the silent, sad glances exchanged during family gatherings, during celebrations? Bring back friends, bring back brothers…
"Yes, it's tempting… and terribly dangerous," James said. "Anyway, Dumbledore cast a spell so we can't reveal anything. Of course, it's not irreversible, but talking wouldn't help you."
"What a convenient excuse! Why come if you didn't want to help us?" Harry snapped, frustrated by the silence.
"Do you think we had a choice?" James exclaimed, setting his coffee cup on the table. "We didn't use a spell or a Time-Turner, you know."
"Then what brought you here?" Hermione asked, intrigued.
"A mirror," said a voice behind them.
Albus entered the dining room, eyes red from lack of sleep and hair as messy as Harry's. He wore the jeans and sweater Molly had given him the day before, picked from their wardrobes, but he was barefoot, seemingly unaffected by the cold floor.
His voice still had that icy tone, charged with an irrepressible anger.
"A mirror… and a voice that whispers."
James nodded.
"Dumbledore thinks it's a spirit."
"A demon," Albus clarified. He sat at the end of the table, pulling the chair next to him to prop up his legs. "A demon that's probably enjoying watching us."
"A mirror," Hermione echoed, lost in thought. Her eyes suddenly lit up. "Dumbledore thinks it's a spirit summoned for Enoptomancy?"
"What's that?" Ron groaned, his head spinning.
"Mirror divination," Hermione explained, "an occult practice that allows seeing the past and future and crossing dimensions with the help of entities—more or less malevolent ones. A spirit hidden in the mirror must have made you cross through time?"
James nodded.
"The mirror was at Hogwarts, but we know it came from Durmstrang, a gift from a former headmaster…"
"Of course," Hermione sighed. "Durmstrang has never shied away from teachings that Hogwarts' leadership deemed dark magic. The mirror was likely an Enoptomancy tool, and they didn't purge it of its spirits before giving it to Hogwarts."
"A poisoned gift," Ron said with a grimace.
"It's very possible," James replied. "But that doesn't tell us how to get back home. We're counting on Dumbledore to find out more."
Albus let out a sarcastic laugh, but James ignored him.
Harry was staring at him intently.
"So that's your plan?" he asked, stunned. "You're just hiding until Dumbledore finds a solution?"
"That's the idea," James said, holding his gaze without flinching. "The Easter holidays are almost over. We'll stay hidden here while you go back to Hogwarts."
"You're right," Albus said sarcastically, disillusioned. "Let's stay cooped up here and deprive ourselves of the chance to look for a solution among the thousands of books in the Hogwarts library."
"I'm trying to be reasonable," James said with a hint of irritation in his voice.
"Reasonable?" Albus repeated in a dramatic tone. He leaned toward the boy, placing a hand on his heart in mock affectation. "Reasonable, you? I would have thought you'd charge headfirst into the fray at the sight of the first Death Eater you came across. Isn't that your Gryffindor motto? Rush in first, think later."
James accepted the insult calmly, his hands resting on the table, his voice flat.
"Maybe I don't see things that way anymore."
Albus leaned forward, scrutinizing the boy from head to toe, lips pressed together and eyes narrowed.
"That's what I see. And I wonder why?"
Suddenly, James averted his eyes, and his cheeks flushed. Shame washed over him, and he couldn't hide it. Albus's hands clenched into fists.
"Apparently, you're not exactly best friends," Ron noted, watching the two brothers.
"Living together is a bit difficult," James said simply, looking at his brother, who flipped him off in response. "We've been in your time for almost two weeks now, and we haven't spent this much time together in the last six years."
"Two weeks?" Hermione asked.
"Dumbledore found us wandering the corridors of Hogwarts," James explained, wondering if the wizard's spell would allow him to speak before his throat froze. "And he placed us under the protection of the Aurors. We were housed in an isolated house, not far from Hogsmeade, surrounded by forest. Four Aurors were assigned to protect us day and night, rotating every twelve hours. A week of deep boredom and anxiety before one of the Aurors outright betrayed us to Voldemort."
"What?" Harry exclaimed, a cold sweat running down his spine. "Voldemort knows you exist?"
"He must be furious!" Hermione said, her hand over her heart. "Your presence means Harry won!"
At the end of the table, Albus had closed his eyes, his fingers gripping the edge of the table.
"We don't know for sure," James said, pushing aside the fear twisting his gut. "Under the Imperius Curse, the Auror could have revealed everything, but in the end, he didn't know much. Dumbledore gave them very little information about us. Obviously, seeing Albus, it's easy to guess... but even then, he had no certainty. Voldemort's information is incomplete. At least, we hope so."
"What happened next?" Harry pressed, worried that Voldemort was on their trail and could gain an advantage.
"Snatchers arrived. The Auror who was guarding us held them off so we could escape. They killed him and pursued us."
"Wow," Ron muttered, his face tense. "How did you manage to shake them off?"
James thought for a moment, pursed his lips, then shrugged.
"We got lucky."
Suddenly, Albus jumped up, sending the chair where his feet had been resting, along with all the other chairs in his path, flying towards the door with an icy magical blast. He left the kitchen in a whirlwind of fury that knocked dishes and papers off the table, leaving the four teenagers frozen.
"Merlin," Hermione said, trembling. "He scared me!"
"That guy's not well!" Ron exclaimed, getting up to pick up the fallen chairs. "Look at that, he broke one. What's his problem?"
"He's scared," James said softly, helping to pick up the papers and unbroken silverware.
"The Order of the Phoenix can protect you," Hermione said confidently, helping tidy up the mess.
James dusted off his hands and stared at his fingers, pensive.
"He's not afraid for himself."
He excused himself and climbed the stairs two at a time. He didn't find Albus in the bedroom and saw Hugo half-asleep on his bed. He went up to the top floor, passed an ajar door, and glanced inside.
Albus was standing in front of a wall, staring at a tapestry James had never seen in the house. An emerald-green paper, embroidered in silver. Faces were connected by branches and floral ornaments. It was the genealogical tree of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The most degenerate elements of the Pure-Blood families were represented on all four walls of the room. No wonder he had never seen it; he felt like tearing it down himself.
Albus stood facing one wall, oblivious.
"I know you won't like hearing this," James began cautiously, "but you need to calm down."
"We got lucky?"Albus repeated scornfully. His head was down, black hair covering his eyes, and his shoulders were trembling slightly.
James leaned against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans.
"What did you want me to say? That Scorpius Malfoy turned back, created a protection field to make us invisible, and led them on a false trail? And that he and Sila got captured so we could escape?"
"What bothers me is that you call that luck."
"Yes, we were lucky," James said, anger rising in him as he grabbed his brother's shoulder to make him look at him. "Especially you! You were lucky Scorpius was there. You were lucky he made that choice, or you'd already be dead!"
The boy looked at him, eyes darkened.
"Scorpius… Since when do you call him Scorpius?" he asked, scrutinizing him, locking eyes. "No moreMiss Malfoy? Or Death Eater's Son, Voldemort's Whore, and the other names you and your friends hurled at him for years?"
James let go of him and stepped back, his cheeks reddening, eyes turning glassy.
Albus shook his head, looking at him with disgust. When he spoke, his voice was tight.
"What happened when I was suspended from Hogwarts, James? Answer! What did you do to him when I wasn't there?"
The boy couldn't meet his brother's eyes. He ran a hand over his face, pressing his fingers to his eyelids.
"I messed up," he said, his voice hoarse, muffled.
Albus's whole body tensed, and he dug his nails into his palms.
"How badly did you mess up?" he asked slowly.
"Listen," James interrupted, placing a hand in front of him. He swallowed. "We'll talk about this later. I… I can't. Not right now."
Albus watched him for a moment, his jaw clenched, then slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His gaze fell again on the green tapestry and the floral silver-threaded patterns.
"Your anger worries me, Albus."
"Oh, spare me," he sighed wearily.
"It worries all of us," James insisted, stepping towards him. "I'm afraid you'll snap and do something reckless."
"Of course, you're all worried," Albus said, a sad smile playing on his lips. "I'm a future Dark Wizard, you know that!"
James grimaced and shook his head, burdened.
"Stop saying that. It's not true."
"I'm not the one saying it…" Albus whispered. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Whatever happens, I won't put you in danger if that's what worries you."
"I'm not afraid for us," James burst out. "I'm afraid for you!"
Albus let out a humorless laugh and looked at his brother with bitterness.
"Afraid for me? You've never cared!"
James clicked his tongue, annoyed.
"I've been clumsy, but I've always tried to protect you."
"So those six years at Hogwarts, what I endured was your brotherly love? Funny, I took it for pure cruelty against the little Slytherin in the family."
James wetted his lips, struggling to keep his composure.
"Let's call it clumsy brotherly love and stupidity," he conceded.
"You don't say, James," Albus growled, bitter. "A lot of stupidity!"
He looked away, his shoulders slumping. He seemed overtaken by fatigue and a deep sadness that softened his features and darkened the green of his eyes. He wrapped his arms around himself.
"I didn't need your protection," he said softly, without anger, as a confession. "I needed him. We just needed each other. We were enough. We just wanted you to leave us alone!" He wiped his eyes, which were becoming too wet, with his sleeve. His voice cracked. "It wasn't complicated, damn it."
James nodded slowly, feeling exhausted himself. He looked at his brother, seeing his bright eyes where tears shimmered but didn't fall. He seemed small, too frail, and James wanted to hold him. He lifted his hands but stopped, unsure how to do that with his brother anymore.
"Promise me you won't rush to Malfoy Manor," he said finally.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Albus sniffled.
"Promise me, Albus."
The boy looked at his older brother, his eyes searching his face as if lost in thought.
"I can't," he finally whispered.
James rolled his eyes, exasperated. He held back the urge to punch a wall; that wasn't the image he wanted to show his brother.
"Alright, fine," he said at last. "I won't stop you. But you have to give me a chance to help you." Albus made a gesture of protest, but his brother insisted, "I'm not your enemy, Albus. I can be useful. We need to stick together, right?"
Albus looked at him, thoughtful, then nodded slowly. James wanted to laugh at his brother's caution and realized sadly that it might be justified.
A sound of footsteps drew their attention, and Rose appeared in the doorway. She looked surprised to see them together, their eyes red.
"Hey Rose," James said, moving away from his brother.
"You're rays of sunshine, even in the morning," she said. "Have you been crying?"
"Don't talk nonsense!" Albus snapped, wiping his nose with his sweater sleeve.
Rose ignored him:
"Aurors are expected for breakfast, it will be served in half an hour."
"And?" James insisted, shrugging.
"Grandma said Snape will be there," she said, heading back into the hallway. "I thought you might be interested."
End of Chapter 4
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
In the next chapter, a meeting between Scorpius and Voldemort...
