mischiefmaker (ex_mischiefm67) wrote in albie, @ 2007-09-13 04:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | adult situations, albus/scorpius, mature content, pre-slash, slash |
Fandom: HP
Pairings: None really, yet, at least, maybe George/Draco down the line. But there will be definite undertones of Scorpius/Albus.
Characters: Albus, Scorpius, James, Rose, Victoure, Neville, maybe a couple of other Professors, some Aurors, Draco, and a couple of OC’s (yis hates them too my bad!)
Warnings: For some reason (I blame the wine) my plot bunnies have managed to take over completely and there are now subplots in here that WEREN’T THERE THE LAST TIME I WROTE IT DOWN! L Superspecial chapter warning. Near the end I get a little… how should I put this… well, lets just hope that you haven’t eaten in the last hour or so. It’s in the imagery. Really. {this is more for the next part than this part… but you can’t say I didn’t wart you!}
Summary: All is not what it seems in the Malfoy family. A father, a son, no mother, and little means with witch to live. Draco has more things to worry about then what one would expect, to many burdens at too young an age, and likewise his own son gets a lesson that he won’t soon forget. Albus Potter notices something isn’t right. Will his brother, cousins, and Head of House get to him before it’s too late?
Beta’d?: :wince: no. Well, yes. I did it myself, and I caught a lot of my own mistakes, but yeah… oy….
OMGWTFBBQ!- This chappie got away from me and I just realized that I’m not done and I’m at 21 pages lone! OY! So I am going to split it up into 2 pieces and post it that way I can compensate for not posting it last week. I’m posting 9 pages at a time, so bear with me yall!!!
****
It was a sight that Neville knew would haunt him the rest of his days.
The light from the hall cast a silhouette on the floor halfway through the room where it fell upon a pile of rust color rags.
But it wasn’t a pile of rags; because a pile of rags doesn’t have fingers or toes or white-blonde hair. Neville felt his stomach lurch as he stepped one carefully placed foot after another into the room.
He knew what he had to do. First and foremost he had to get Scorpius to the infirmary. A far distant second was rounding up those responsible for this. But that was not because he didn’t care, that was because he himself was afraid of what he might do to them when he got his hands on them.
Suddenly three figures that sat huddle against the corner looked over, saw him, and jumped to their feet with their wands at the ready. Neville cast the strongest shielding charm that he could muster; he pushed it forward until expanded like a bubble, giving him room to advance towards the broken and battered body that was bound by chains in the center of the room.
Just as suddenly more figures that had blended into the darkness emerged and started throwing curses at him.
James jumped forward and nearly threw up.
“JAMES! YOU HAVE TO GET SCORPIUS OUT OF –”
He realized two seconds too late that he should have never said the boys name out loud. For as soon as the syllables left his lips a blur of black, yellow and red darted betwixt James legs and rushed for the center of the room.
“NOOOO!” James screamed as Albus hurled himself across room and over the prone body of Scorpius Malfoy.
“S-S-Scorpius?” He whimpered, not seeing or hearing the hexes and jinx’s being thrown at him from every angle.
“YOU WILL LEAVE MY COUSIN ALONE!” Roared Victoire, as she charged forward, casting every defensive spell she could think of to protect her cousin and the small boy beneath him.
Scorpius laid motionless save for the hitched rise and fall of his chest, but the sudden light in what had been an otherwise blindingly dark room caused his one un-swollen eye to flutter open just a little. Albus gave a gasp and worked to get the gag out of the boys’ mouth.
“S-Scorpius?” He whispered tremulously.
“A-Albi-ie?” the smaller boy sobbed painfully.
“Yes?” He breathed.
“I-it h-h-hurts.” He sobbed before losing consciousness. It was as though he knew it weren’t a dream this time, someone really had come to save him.
Albus gasped again, his friend had collapsed, his Head of house was protecting him, his brother was defending him and his cousins were helping him! HOW THE HELL WAS HE SUPPOSED TO GET SCORPIUS TO MADAM POMFREY IF THESE PEOPLE WEREN’T GOING TO LET HIM LEAVE!?
Suddenly an idea struck him. It was either insane, or brilliant. Merlin help him, he hoped it was brilliant.
“KREACHER!!!!!” He screamed, his voice high pitched and quivering.
With a pop the now elderly house elf was at his side preparing to bow to his young master when he noticed the mêlée that he had appeared into the middle of. Kreacher looked around frantically, looking lost and yet ready to fight all at the same time. “What is my little Master needing, suh?”
“Take us to the infirmary… please!” He sobbed, clutching his friends ruined night shirt in his fist.
“Yessuh, we is taking you now.” Kreacher watched as his young master put his arms around his friend as gently as he could; it was then he noticed the shackles that bound the boy to the floor. Kreacher unlocked the shackles with ease before putting his arms around the boys just a gentle as he had seen Mistress Ginny do when the little Masters were but tiny babies. “Kreacher is keeping his little Masters safe, he is.”
“KREACHER! GET THEM OUT OF HERE NOW!” It was James; as he dodged three stunners at once.
“Yessuh…” with a flick of his wrist they were gone.
James knew that they were on their way to safety, but that only seemed to make him angrier. Those bastards had made Albus CRY! And Merlin only KNEW what they had done to Scorpius! They would PAY for that! With a great scream James charged for the presumable leader of the pack. “I’LL GET YOU FOR THIS!” He raged.
***
They appeared with a POP inside the infirmary. Kreacher let go of them and took a step back, but Albus was still clutching the smaller boy to his chest. “K-Kreacher… y-you have t-to get us help.” He sobbed pitifully.
“What in the name of Merlin’s Mother’s Spice Rack…” A very masculine voice boomed directly behind them then gasped. Kreacher turned around, wand raised, prepared to defend his little Master when he realized that the voice was coming from a portrait. “Oh Sweet Mother of Merlin; is that… oh gods, it is!” The voice muttered, walking up as close to the edge of its frame as it could.
“My word, what’s happened… never mind…” it was still dark but they could practically hear the man in the portrait running through the other tapestries along the wall. “POPPY! WAKE UP! POPPY POMFREY! THERE IS AN EMERGENCY THAT REQUIRES YOUR IMMEDIATE ATTENTION IN THE INFIRMARY!” The voice bellowed
“I say, old friend, must you be so—” Another portrait yawned, shielding its ear from his volume
“SHUT IT, you ninny! Better yet, make yourself of some use, run to the Headmasters office and alert him that a child has been severely injured on the grounds.” The voice paused. “GO NOW!”
“Alright, alright, just gimme a –“
“NOW!” He bellowed, causing the air to vibrate with electricity.
“Yikes…” the shuffling of feet could be heard as the other person from the portrait dashed off to do its bidding.
“Severus, what’s the matter?” Came a soft and gentle female voice that yawned widely.
“Poppy, there is an emergency laying unconscious on your floor.” The man said in a tone of voice that barely concealed his rage.
“OH DEAR!” Poppy came rushing out of her room, her wand lit and gasped. “Oh, no!”
Kreacher turned to Albus anxiously as Madame Pomfrey levitated Scorpius up onto a cot and started to work on him. “Be there anything else my little Master is wanting Kreacher to do, suh?”
Albus nodded. “Yes; go help James, Rose and all of them back in that room,” he hiccupped, trying to dry his tears from his cheeks with his sleeves. “Don’t hurt the bad guys, just help James and Rosie and Victoire and P-Professor L-Longbottom get them tied up and stuff, kay?”
“Kreacher is doing exactly that.” And without further discussion Kreacher POPPED away.
Albus felt at loose ends. He didn’t want to get in Poppy’s way, but he couldn’t just stand there.
“You there, the boy with the black hair.” The deep booming voice from before was speaking once more.
Albus turned and looked at the portraits. There was a dark haired man descending through the portraits until he was standing in a portrait that was at eye level with him. “What’s your name? Dare I even ask? Raven colored hair, unkempt in style, eyes as green as grass after a long rain; you must be a Potter.”
Albus sniffled as he approached the haughty portrait. “Yes,” he sniffled, “I am.” He reached up and scrubbed the tears from his eyes.
“What—or should I say, for whom are you named after? The first boy received his father’s name. The first girl received his mother’s name. And you? Did he name you after his ill-fated were-friend, or his equally ill-fated God-Father?”
Albus crossed his arms over his chest, his tears totally forgotten. “I’m named after the two bravest men daddy ever knew!” He proclaimed proudly.
“Really? So he named you Sirius Remus? Or is it Remus Sirius?”
“Neither! My name is Albus Severus Potter.” He nodded in satisfaction more to himself than anyone or anything else. Albus could have been mistaken, perhaps it had something to do with the flickering of the fire light, but it almost seemed like the portrait paled.
“Albus Severus?” The dark haired man asked softly. “Hah, you poor child, what was he thinking?”
Albus opened his mouth to reply when the floo connection flared to life and at the same time an elderly wizard with a long beard and long hair stumbled his way into Severus’ portrait.
“My dear man, what is going on? One moment Headmaster Diggory and I are discussing the curriculum and the next moment Portence Pomfrey is bursting through my portrait shrieking at her top of her lungs about some emergency.”
Severus leveled his gaze at Albus and cursed under his breath as Amos hurried across the room and skid to a stop at Pomfrey’s side. “What in the—Sweet Merlin Above, what happened to him?”
“Well, if you lot wouldn’t have interrupted me, I would KNOW! I had very nearly gotten the boy calm enough that he could talk. But now you’ve gone and stirred his emotions again! Now look at him!” He threw his arms up in the air in exasperation and motioned to Little Albus; who, once again was in tears as he stared at his friend feeling hopeless and useless all at once.
“TACT, people, TACT! Is that too much to ask for? Were NONE of you taught TACT?!” He thundered.
“Oh Dear,” Dumbledore muttered, at a loss for words.
“Oh dear indeed.” Severus grumbled, folding his hands over his chest.
“Temper, temper, Severus--” Severus made a hasty cut throat motion in the vane hope that Dumbledore would realize that he hadn’t revealed his identity to the boy quite yet. “What’s wrong Severus? You can’t be choking, you’re already dead.”
Little Albus was looking at them again with wide unbelieving eyes. “Yo-you’re A-Albus Dumbledore.” He pointed to Dumbledore. “An-And, you’re S-Severus S-Snape.” He pointed to Severus looking all together like he were about to faint in shock. “I’m named after you two!” He exclaimed breathlessly.
“Quite, quite, yes, yes, that is who we are.” Severus answered with feigned disinterest.
“Wow.” But then he realized that both Headmaster Diggory and Madam Pomfrey were summoning potions and elixirs frantically. “What can I do? I feel so useless to him.” He sniffled, distracted, for now, from his most recent discovery.
“Well, my dear boy, what does your father do for a living?”
“Huh… Oh, he’s an Auror, sir.”
“Well, don’t you suppose that now would be an opportune time to call your father for help? After all, he would want to know if something happened here, wouldn’t he?” Ever the wise man, Dumbledore seemed to know exactly what to say, how to say it, and when to say it. Had it been Severus, he would have just shouted at the boy to call his father already and get it over with.
“Oh, yes, Da would want to know… but where is the floo powder… I don’t really… I’ve never used it by myself before.” He anxiously tapped his fingers together as he looked around.
“The Floo Powder is right over there on the other side of the fireplace. You only need a pinch or two. Throw it in and when it turns green stick your head in and call out the name of the place that you are calling as loudly and a clearly as you can. But do not stick your head in before the flames turn green, understand?”
Little Albus nodded his head and wiped the tears from his eyes as he rushed over to the fireplace, gave his namesakes one last look for reassurance and did as he was told.
When the flames turned green he stuck his head in and hollered as loud as he could muster. “GODRIC’S HOLLOW!”
***
He walked slowly down the darkened streets wincing with each step. People were staring at him. He didn’t know why they were staring. ‘They know. He’s told them all. They know your secret. And soon they’ll force Scorpius out of Hogwarts because of YOU!’ Sneered a little voice in the back of his head. He hated that little voice. But most of all he feared it spoke the truth. But it didn’t matter at the moment. At the moment he just wanted to curl up on their flat old musty smelling twin-sized cot and wait for Scorpius’ owl to deliver his letter.
That and that alone helped him put one foot in front of the other. For he knew as surely as he knew that his place in life was cut in unchangeable granite, that if he lost his son, that he would have no reason to live and would therefore cease to exist. It was not a matter of withering and dying, no, it was a matter of ceasing to exist. Scorpius was his tether, and without that tether he would perish. He lived for that boy, he lived for those letters, that smile, that laugh, the way his wee arms would wrap around his neck and squeeze him so tightly… his son was his life, and without him he was nothing but a bag of worthless bones.
He stumbled over a bit of rubbish in the street and fell to his knees. The jarring impact of the fall brought Draco out of his haze and brought the agonizing pain thrumming throughout his body to the forefront. ‘How did I get here? When did I leave the shop? I have to get home. I have to get home.’
But when he attempted to get up off of his knees he instead fell all the way down the ground. The fall sent a blinding shot of pain throughout his entire body. ‘Can’t die. Have to get home. Can’t die. Have to get home.’ He tried to move his arms to drag himself to his tiny apartment but his limbs didn’t even twitch.
He closed his eyes and willed himself to his apartment as he knew that his body was just too broken to move anymore. But it did not work.
Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he heard a small stampede off feet coming closer to him, he believed it to be O’Grady and some poor sod who thought they were doing him a favor. He thought he heard sharp gasp, but it did not matter, for he could not fight them off if he wanted too. He needed sleep. Even though he ached to get back to his rat hole of an apartment, his body needed sleep more.
***
Anastasia pulled George down the street. “Ana- Ana, I can’t run as-- as fast-- as you can.” He wheezed.
“I’m sorry, please George, just this once… I swear… I’ll never--“
“Hey now,” he wheezed. “I’ve… told you… what to do… with those … kinds of statements…” they stopped for George to catch his breath. George doubled over, his hands on his knees inhaling deep gulps of air. “Merlin’s beard woman, give me a second or two to process all the information you’ve just dropped into my lap.”
Anastasia winced. “I am sorry about that George, I just… It’s been almost twelve years and… and I just couldn’t take keeping it in any more… and there was something in O’Grady’s eyes last night when he made me leave, a look, a bloody dangerous look; almost like he was hungry, but not the hungry for food, kind of look, that just… I couldn’t just leave Draco there by himself any more.”
George, having finally caught his breath, straightened himself and nodded. “It’s okay. Believe me, O’Grady’s reputation precedes him.” He said with a wince. In the nearly twenty years since Voldemort’s fall George had gotten pretty good at getting other people to open up to him when the normally wouldn’t. He had heard things about people that most wouldn’t imagined happening in their wildest dreams. But O’Grady, if the half things he had heard about that bastard were true… George would not be at all opposed to bringing back Dementor’s kiss as punishment.
“I just can’t believe that Draco Malfoy has been working three blocks from my shop for the last 11 years! I mean, Anastasia, you know how much stuff I buy from that Apothecary…”
Anastasia nodded, “You aren’t the only one either. He doesn’t allow Draco out front whenever there are customers in the store. And if one comes in while he is out there, Draco has to hide because--” she looked away shamefully. “I’m such a horrible friend. I shouldn’t even be allowed to call myself his friend. The things I’ve seen him do to him… the way he’s beaten on him for the stupidest mistakes… and he has to take it. He has to accept it, or he thinks that he’ll lose his job and his son in one fail swoop.”
“Well we’re going to take care of that…” he grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before they both started walking as fast as they could without stirring anyone’s suspicions (no need for anyone to give O’Grady the jump on them).
Suddenly though Anastasia stopped dead in her tracks and gasped sharply.
“What the--” his voice trailed off as he began to recognize the man lying in the streets. “Bloody hell-” they took off at a dead run and did not stop until they dropped down to their knees at his side.
“Draco…” she breathed, her hands shook as she turned him over onto his back. She gasped when her hand come into contact with something wet on his side. She lifted her hand and mouthed the word -- blood--
“George! Don’t touch him! He’s BLEEDING!” She shouted, startling George who was just about to grab Draco to carry him.
“What?”
“Blood!” She showed him her hand. “I-- I don’t know if simply touching his blood could affect you--”
“Bu-but you’re touching it.” He breathed, pointing to her fingertips.
“It can’t hurt someone that’s already infected.” She whispered softly as she patted down his torso and tapped his cheeks. “GAH!” She exclaimed when her hand touched something that burned her.
“What is it?” He asked frantically.
“Silver… Oh Merlin… silver!” Of all the things she had seen or heard of O’Grady doing to him from Draco himself, she had never ever thought that he would use silver!
George whipped off his muggle blazer, enlarged it until it was the size of a large quilt and jumped to his feet.
“Let go of him Ana, you-- you could get-- just… let go, I’ve got him.” She looked up at him vacantly, her normally soft fathomless brown eyes flashes amber for a second. “It’s okay Ana. I’m not going to hurt him.”
“But… the…blood…” she said vacantly, shock having set it.
“See, got me blazer the size of three table clothes; it’ll be enough of a barrier to protect us both.” He realized he could have levitated him back to his shop, but George thought that he had been through enough personal humiliation for one lifetime.
“Oh… o-k.” She helped lift Draco just enough for George to put the coat underneath him before casting a weightless charm on him, lifting him into his arms, and looking over his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I know a lady that can patch up a werewolf in a jiff, no questions asked.”
Anastasia didn’t look like she heard him, but as he started to run back down the alleyway she joined him and prayed for a miracle.
They needed it.
***
Harry heard the floo activate and heard his son’s voice call out to him. He jumped to his feet, slammed his glasses on and rushed over. “Albus? Are you okay?”
His fathers concern was what broke the dam of emotions building up inside of him. “No…” his practically whimpered.
“What happened? You can tell me.” He encouraged softly; but what he really wanted to do was drag him through the floo connection, comfort his youngest, and protect him from whatever had so upset him.
Albus let out a great sob and started sputtering incoherent details which Harry was only able to catch snatches of: Scorpius… missing… gone… James… Rosie… Victoire… Professor Longbottom… a room that appeared out of thin air… Scorpius found…
And then he uttered the words that would haunt Harry till the day he died, words that Harry had hoped to never hear any of his children utter. “Blood…so much…blood…” he sobbed hopelessly and stared vacantly at his hands that were covered in a suspiciously dark substance.
“GINNY!” He bellowed over his shoulder, his heart sinking to the depths of his shoes, his body had gone completely cold.
Ginny was up at his side seconds later, sleepily scrubbing her eyes. “Hmmm…” she mumbled as she knotted the belt of her dress robe.
“Take Lily to your mother and fathers; have your dad put up the protective wards just in case. Then go and get Hermione; he said something about Rosie, but I-- just make sure you get her. Help her get Hugo to your parents as well, and tell her you don’t know anymore than what I do-- which is true, because he’s too upset to make a lick of sense. Then you should both use the emergency portkey to the Infirmary at Hogwarts; Poppy could probably use a few extra hands.”
Ginny blinked at him, the feeling of sleepiness having evaporated like dew in the noon day sun. “What hap-- Albus?”
“There’s no time to explain-- Please, Gin!” He begged desperately.
“Okay, okay, just remember that Ron is at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, and I think he should know if something has happened to Rosie. Bill and Fleur will need to know as well. Oh, and Teddy; he and Fawkes might be helpful as well.”
Harry cursed under his breath, having, in his own panic, forgotten all about Ron being at George’s shop and completely forgetting about Bill, Fleur, Teddy and Fawkes all together. “Thanks Gin, keep safe, okay?” Ginny chuckled as she gave him a peck on the cheek, but she gave his side a squeeze to assure him that she would be doing just that.
“Love you Harry and you too Albus, mummy will be there in a second, don’t you fret.” Ginny and Harry made eye contact when Albus didn’t respond to his mothers reassuring words.
“Hurry Gin,” he mouthed urgently.
“Perhaps you should send Krea--“
“He’s already here, mum.” Albus answered meekly.
“Wha--“
“I-I summoned him to help me and Scorpius get to the infirmary. I- I just-- I couldn’t just grab him and run, there were too many people. I needed help and I--”
“It’s okay Albie, we’re just glad that it worked and that he was there to help.” Harry interrupted him as he could see that Albus was not in the state of mind to explain any further.
“You’re not mad at me or Kreacher then?” He sniffled.
“Of course not, dear.” Ginny whispered soothingly. “Don’t worry; you both did the proper thing.” Ginny gave Harry’s side one last squeeze before rushing out to get Lily.
Harry watched her leave then turned back to Albus and leaned in. “I have to go now son. But I want you to stay where you are and do NOT leave for anything or anyone until your mother and I are there, okay?”
“Yes daddy,” Albus looked over his shoulder and then back again. “Please hurry daddy.” He whispered anxiously, the pitch of his voice rising considerably. “I need you.” He squeakily pleaded.
“I’m coming son. I’ll be but a second, stay safe.”
“You too, bye Da.” Albus reluctantly pulled his head out of the fire and again Harry had to restrain the impulse the yank him through the floo network, but he restrained it he did before rising to his feet, summoning his Aurors Cloak, a jumper, a pair of jeans, and a pair of trainers. After he was dressed he summoned his broom, cast a Patronus to find Ron and give him the heads up, another for Bill and Fleur, and another for Teddy and Fawkes.
With a heavy sigh he grabbed his firebolt and took off out of the window. He knew that he could have floo-ed in or even Portkeyed into the infirmary directly, but they lived on the outskirts of Hogsmeade (which had over went a dramatic population explosion directly following the Last Battle For Hogwarts as it was now referred too as.) and he knew that it would only take a minute or two at top speed to get him to the Entrance of Hogwarts.
He also knew to give himself a few minutes to cool down and to think things through before he got to the scene; otherwise he might just start hexing and arresting people and that was never a good idea.
TBC in chapter 2.2
Please feel free to point out any
really bad errors on my part.
Constructive criticism is love.