2024

~*-A-*~

~*-A-*~

The atmosphere in the Potter household had been extremely tense for the last few days. James, when he wasn't at Quidditch practice, escaped it easily by going to Fred and Roxie's. He and Fred were both training for the Chudley Cannon reserves. Roxie was still looking for a reserve position but was working in the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes shop in Diagon Alley in the meantime. James and Fred spent most of their time flying or going over their training books - at least, that's what Albus assumed they were doing. James had recently broken up with Flora, and while Roxie had a mysterious boyfriend that no one had met yet, Fred had yet to form any kind of serious relationship.

Lily would have gone to Hugo's, but the vibe there wasn't much better. She mostly stayed in her room, reading her new NEWT-level books. She had achieved eight OWLs - less than Albus but more than James - and was still determined in her desire to be an Auror.

For Albus, there was no escape. Except for when he went to St Mungos to visit Scorpius, he was forbidden to leave the house. He didn't waste any time trying to argue that he was seventeen, and legally could do whatever he wanted. The look of disappointment on his father's face every time they saw each other was enough to silence any protest. Luckily this happened rarely, since Harry was very busy at the office. From what Al could gather, the Aurors were trying to use their new information to track down as many members of the Shadow's organisation as soon as possible, before news of the arrest spread all over the continent.

His mum was around considerably more, but he couldn't quite bring himself to have any real conversation with her. He knew she was just as angry as Harry was, by the brief way she spoke to him and the way she wouldn't quite meet his eyes. He wrote to Cleo and told her not to visit. No one had forbidden it outright, but he had no intention of subjecting her to the level of discomfort he now had to deal with.

He knew the hiatus would only last so long. The only reason he had not yet been punished was because of Scorpius and the fiasco over Uncle Ron's suspension, and his parents being busy. But he knew it was coming. His biggest fear was that they would ban him from Quidditch. He was determined that this year would be Ravenclaw's first cup win in four years, in his last year as captain. It seemed like the worst thing that could happen would be to have that dream shattered. A dark voice at the back of his mind reminded him that he deserved whatever his parents could throw at him. And if Scorpius had died, he wouldn't even have cared about Quidditch. He felt guilty now for worrying about it just because, by some miracle, his friend was still alive.

The day Scorpius was due to leave the hospital for the Leaky Cauldron, Albus woke up to find both his parents in the house for the first time in days. Instinctively he felt that the hammer was about to fall. With a sense of impending doom, he went downstairs. His father was sitting in the kitchen wearing an old T-shirt and with damp hair lying uncharacteristically flat from the shower. He looked exhausted. Ginny put a bacon sandwich in front of him and he smiled gratefully at her. "Thanks, love."

"Well, you need some proper food, for once," Ginny said sternly. "It's not like you have any extra body fat to fall back on."

"Thanks a lot," Harry muttered.

"Morning," Albus said, shuffling into the kitchen.

"Good morning," his mum said. "There's bacon left in the pan if you want some."

"Thanks." He found a plate and some bread and started putting together his own sandwich. "Where's Lily?"

"Aunt Hermione's," Ginny replied. "And your brother has practice."

"Oh." Great, he thought. That's convenient.

He sat at the table and ate his breakfast, though suddenly he had no appetite for it at all. Harry finished his off in record time and went back for more. Albus realised that since Harry was hardly at home lately, he was probably hardly eating at all. He tended to put his work before his stomach, and since he no longer had his best friend to share the workload, he was doing twice the normal amount.

When his parents had finished eating, they put the plates away and came to sit back at the table. Albus felt a sick heaviness in his stomach and pushed his own half-eaten sandwich to one side.

"So, Alby, we need to have a talk," his mum said, not unkindly.

"I kinda figured," Al mumbled.

Harry slipped his glasses off and wiped them on his T-shirt. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much during all this," he said. "I know it's been a terribly difficult week."

Albus nodded. "It's okay. I know you're busy with Auror stuff."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and put his glasses back on. "I hope you realise that what you did... walking into that building knowing full well the danger... it's not just about disobeying me. It was all I could do to convince the Wizengamot not to bring you and your cousin up on charges."

Albus looked up, startled. He hadn't realised.

"Far apart from getting yourself killed, you could have seriously impeded the investigation. Malfoy could have gotten away, taking Scorpius with him."

Al set his jaw. He knew his father was right. In a way, that would have been better than what had actually happened. "Scorp got hurt because of me," he said, flatly. "I was trying to distract Malfoy and it just made him angrier. I get it."

Harry's mouth twitched. A day or so after the madness, Albus had had to sit and relate the entire incident in detail. His dad hadn't said anything at the time, but he did now. "While I'm inclined to think that throwing mud at him was a stroke of pure genius," he said, earning a disapproving look from his wife, "goading Malfoy wasn't a very smart thing to do. You had a wand. You know how to use a Stunning spell, don't you?"

Albus blinked. He did know. But it hadn't even occurred to him. He realised, with a sinking in his stomach which he had thought could never sink any lower as long as he lived, that he could have stopped it all from happening. He had been invisible. Malfoy might never have seen it coming. Then he could have been the hero who brought Malfoy down, rather than the idiot who almost got his cousin and best friend killed. He stared down at the tabletop, wishing the kitchen floor would develop a black hole to swallow him up.

"Since you insist going to Oldham was your idea and not Rose's, I'm leaving her punishment up to Hermione," Harry continued. "Though frankly between all this and what happened with Ron, the poor girl's probably been through enough. I thought about banning you from Quidditch..." - Albus flinched guilty - "but I don't think that would serve to actually teach you anything. Instead, I've spoken with Professor McGonagall and arranged to get you out of school every Sunday to volunteer at St Mungo's."

Albus sat still for a moment, taking this in. At first it didn't sound so bad, until he realised the impact of a whole day each week that he couldn't practice Quidditch or study for his NEWTs was going to have. "For how long?" he asked.

"Until your exams," his mum replied. She was looking at him searchingly, as if expecting some kind of protest. "Are we agreed?"

Al nodded. There wasn't really anything he could say.

~*-S-*~

~*-S-*~

When they woke him that morning, Scorpius was grateful. The potion they gave him to drink at night made his back and chest ache uncomfortably, and it had been a rough night. When he had finally slept, he had had strange and disturbing dreams. When Knox came to nudge him into wakefulness, he had been dreaming that Rose was screaming, somewhere, and he was stuck still, unable to go to her.

"Good morning!" Knox announced, in the irritatingly optimistic way he started every morning, good or otherwise.

"Morning," Scorp mumbled hoarsely.

"Time for you to go home, then," Knox said, consulting his chart. Scorpius didn't bother to correct him. The Leaky Cauldron was probably as close to home as he was ever going to get, after all. "We'll get you into your chair before we see you off."

"Does that mean I can eat real food tonight?" Scorpius asked. Since the accident, they had been feeding him with nutritional potions, which, while no doubt effective in restoring the strength he had lost while in a Moonsilver-induced coma for four days, were not exactly five star cuisine. His mouth started to water at the mere thought of food.

"I can't see why not," Knox replied, entirely oblivious to the relief this induced in his patient. "And where's your lady friend this morning?"

"Moving out," Scorpius replied, somewhat guiltily. It was her decision, of course, and far be it from him to try and stop her, but he couldn't help feeling responsible for Rose's fall out with her parents. "My friend should be here soon, though."

Albus did come, a little later than he had said he would and looking miserable. While Knox went to fetch the dreaded chair, Al explained the conversation he had had with his parents that morning. "I know I should be grateful it's not worse," he sighed, "but how am I meant to revise for NEWTs and do this volunteer thing on top of Quidditch?" He made a face. "I think they're trying to get me to quit Quidditch on my own. That's just cruel."

"Sorry," Scorpius said, low. Now Albus' family was showing cracks. Sometimes it felt like he, Scorpius, was personally at fault for ruining everyone's family life. The Weasleys, the Potters, the Longbottoms, not to mention his own family...

"Don't be an ass," Al said sharply, blowing hair out of his eyes. "You didn't ask me to put us all in danger like that. Anyway I'm not going to just up and quit - Ravenclaw's counting on me for a win this year. Gryffindor needs almost a whole new team, Slytherin is predictable, and Hufflepuff..." he shrugged. "Well, we can handle Hufflepuff. I'm not going to let a few sick people get in the way."

"At least you can timetable your practices around it," Scorpius pointed out. He was doing his best to pay full attention to the conversation. It gave him an excuse not to think about what was coming.

Luckily, Neville showed up before it arrived. Triumphantly he handed Scorpius a piece of parchment, naming him as Scorpius' legal guardian until he turned eighteen. "At least I assume that's what it says," he said glibly. "I was never much good with languages."

Scorpius skimmed the parchment, translating from the French in his head. "Looks legit to me," he said, grinning. "Thanks, Neville."

"Well, no one deserves to be the ward of any Ministry, if you ask me," the man replied, looking slightly embarrassed. The uncharacteristic anger of a few days ago had since been replaced with his usual bashful optimism. "They tend to be more concerned with fending off Muggles than looking after kids. Not that you're a kid," he added quickly. "Whoever heard of coming of age at eighteen, anyway? Ridiculous." He rubbed his palms together and looked around. "Where's the madman?"

Albus snorted. "Getting the chair," he explained.

"Ah." Neville's expression turned serious as he looked over at Scorpius. "Nervous?"

Scorpius' heart did an uncomfortable little flip in his stomach. "No," he lied.

"It's only for a few weeks," Neville said encouragingly. Scorpius considered that erring on the seriously deluded side of optimism. "And it has to be better than just lying around in bed all day, right?"

Scorpius nodded emphatically. "Anything would be better than this."

"There you are then. Albus, how's your dad?"

Albus started. "Er... tired, I think."

"I'm not surprised. People need to start reminding him that he doesn't have to save the world single handed. Any more," he added. "They still haven't replaced Ron?"

Al shrugged. "I don't think Dad wants to. He trusted Uncle Ron more than anyone." He glanced at Scorpius - just for a spit second, but it was enough. Mr Weasley's suspension was yet something else Scorpius was responsible for, even if he knew he couldn't have stopped it happening. No doubt there was now a serious lack of trust between the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and his partner, and they had always been such an efficient team. If the man got fired, Scorp had no doubt he would never hear the end of it.

At this point, Knox came in, wheeling the contraption that Scorpius was going to have to live in for as long as it took for him to heal, and all other thoughts were momentarily blown out of his mind. At first glance, it was just an ordinary wheelchair, the sort he had seen occasionally in Muggle Paris and that one, glorious trip into Muggle London last summer. But as Knox drew it closer to him, Scorpius began to notice things that you probably wouldn't find on a Muggle chair. There was a wand holder, for one thing. For another, there were runes and symbols engraved into the frame around the wheels, and while the wheels themselves were metal and rubber and looked sturdy enough, the seat was made of wood. It didn't look especially comfortable.

Knox waved his wand and, without warning, removed some of the Petrification spell on Scorpius' legs. He felt them go limp and strange under the covers. That he could feel them at all was probably a good sign, he decided, but when he tried to move them, nothing happened. He sighed. With his lower back still paralysed for the healing spells, he knew his legs would never take his weight anyway. "All right then," he said, shifting himself up on his palms and pushing the sheets back. He wondered if he was going to have to walk - or rather, roll - outside in his hospital pyjamas. "Let's do this."

Knox used a very powerful levitation charm to lift him out of bed and manoeuvre him into the chair in a sitting position. Scorpius was glad of that, at least; he wasn't sure he could have stood the humiliation of anyone having to carry him. He shifted on the chair, twisting his body slightly from side to side with his hands on the wheels. The seat wasn't as uncomfortable as it had appeared - some kind of cushioning charm, he supposed.

"How does that feel?" Neville asked.

"Er... okay, I guess," Scorpius replied, not quite sure what he was expected to say in this situation. He looked down at his bare feet, sitting uselessly against the footrest. As he lowered his head, something inside him seared, and he hissed in pain. He had grown used to the constant aching from his chest, and the twinges he occasionally felt from the sealed wound were not quite so unbearable as the first few days, but sitting up like this seemed to be triggering a whole new set of nerves. Knox frowned - quizzically rather than out of any real concern, Scorpius couldn't help thinking - and flicked his wand a few times.

"Everything okay?" Al asked nervously.

"Oh yes, fine," Knox said eventually, nodding. "There are bound to be a few niggles during the healing process."

Scorpius wondered what Knox would consider real pain, if this was what he described as a 'niggle'. He rubbed at his torso through the pyjamas, grimacing. It didn't help, of course.

"All right, lad?" Neville asked. His face, in comparison with Knox's, was all concern.

"Yeah," Scorp breathed, fighting back the urge to cough. The pain made him hold his breath, which made him want to cough, which he knew would hurt a lot more. "Fine."

"Mm." Neville made a noise that suggested his understanding that 'fine' was stoic code for 'really not fine at all'. He turned to Knox. "Can't you give him anything for the pain?"

Knox raised an eyebrow, as if surprised that anyone might make so much fuss over a little 'niggle'. "I could, but it would made him drowsy -"

"No," Scorpius said quickly. "I'm fine, really - it was just for a second." The pain was fading, a little. "I want to be awake for this."

Neville still looked reluctant, and Albus looked like he might start arguing as well, but they exchanged glances and seemed to come to some silent agreement. "Well, if you're sure," Neville said.

"I will give you a potion that you must take twice a day, once at midday and again before bed, to help with the regrowth," Knox explained. "In addition to various numbing potions, to be taken every other day. And you must come back here, weekly, for me to examine you and to have the paralytic charm weakened."

"So noted," Neville said, before Scorpius could reply. "Do you think we could get him home now, Healer Knox?"

Knox seemed unfazed by this. "I'll fetch the paperwork," he said, nodding, and left again.

"I brought you some clothes," Albus said suddenly, reaching for the bag he had brought with him. "We already moved all your other stuff into Tony's room yesterday. Um, your Hogwarts stuff and the things that were at your house are still in evidence at the Ministry, but Dad said he should be able to get them released by later today."

"Thanks." Scorpius watched as Al emptied the bag to reveal his Muggle jeans and his favourite T-shirt, the black one with the slogan I listen to bands that don't even exist yet. There was also fresh underwear and a pair of loose, elastic trousers.

"These are mine," Al explained, looking slightly awkward as he held them up. "I thought you might like something easier to put on... um, but it's up to you... I mean, they're yours if you want them."

"Thanks," Scorpius said again, with a combination of relief and regret. "I might take you up on that." His desire to wear his own clothes again was only just overshadowed by the thought of having to physically struggle into the jeans. The very idea made him feel ill.

"Do you need help...?" Neville asked. The question mark was only just audible, as though he already knew the answer. Scorpius looked at the clothes with a growing sense of dread. The T-shirt he could manage, perhaps, but the rest, even with the elastic, suddenly seemed exhausting to him if not downright painful. But somehow the thought of Neville dressing him made his stomach turn over.

"I'll help him," Albus offered brightly. "You go sign the paperwork Knox was on about."

Scorpius nodded with relief, and Neville left the small room as well. "Thanks," he said to Albus when they were alone. He could stand to let Albus help him with his trousers. He wasn't sure why he felt differently; because they were best friends, or because they had shared a dormitory for six years and were a lot more even in terms of equality of nakedness.

"No problem," Al said, coming round to help remove the pyjama top. "You'll have to figure something out for later though, unless you want Rose or Hannah dressing you."

"No fear," Scorp muttered, slightly muffled as the top was pulled over his head. His back and chest burned with the effort.

"Well, maybe we could look up some spells. This can't be the first time this has ever happened to a wizard. Someone had to invent the chair, right?"

That made Scorpius feel slightly better. He dropped his arms as Al got the last of the shirt, and looked down. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting to see - a giant hole, perhaps, through which you could see right to the other side - or a horrible, seeping wound. Instead, between his navel and the bottom of his ribcage, there was a red scar. It was almost oval, but slightly jagged around the edges, as if someone had run him through with some sort of spiked javelin. In a way, he supposed that was more or