Taming

It was nearing midnight. Scorpius’s legs ached, and he and Rose were seriously worried. They’d looked literally everywhere. Every dormitory, except Slytherin since they couldn’t think of a reason Albus would ever go there, the kitchens, the greenhouses, all over the grounds, the library, and they’d even tried to see if they could somehow open the Room of Requirement if it was in use, but it kept opening to an empty room, which they interpreted to mean that it wasn’t in use by anyone.

They’d agreed not to tell Lily that Albus was missing, although they’d asked if she’d seen him. Just on the off chance that there had been a family tragedy that someone had decided to spare Lily from for the moment.

They had told Hugo, though, and he was concerned as well and promised to have a look around. “Of course, I’m not likely to think of something you two haven’t thought of already,” he’d pointed out.

“Scorpius, sweetie, it’s late. Let’s go to bed. Hopefully Albus will be up there when you get there, or he’ll come in shortly. If he doesn’t turn up all night, first thing in the morning, we’ll go find Professor McGonagall or Professor Longbottom and one of them will let us floo Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny and we’ll ask them what we should do, okay?”

He shrugged. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep a wink with Albus still missing, but he didn’t know what else to try. “Okay, fine. Thanks for helping me.”

“Always.”

He trudged down to the Hufflepuff dormitory and went into the bedroom, a sick feeling in his stomach. Suddenly he cried out, “Albus!” Albus was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “What’s wrong? I’ve been looking for you all day! Is someone hurt.”

Albus didn’t raise his head. In a tone of voice that Scorpius had never heard him use before, ever, Albus said slowly and clearly, “I want you to pack your things and leave now.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Pack your shit and get the fuck out. Permanently.”

Scorpius couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Albus, what happened, Baby?”

Albus’s head snapped up, and Scorpius staggered backwards as if he’d been punched. Albus’s eyes, eyes that had conveyed so many emotions to him before, were shining with something that Scorpius had never seen there before: Hatred. Pure, unadulterated hate. And it was directed at Scorpius.

“Do not call me ‘Baby,’” Albus said low, dangerous.

Scorpius’s heart was breaking. He could feel it breaking. He felt like it was being ripped from his chest. He could hardly breathe. There was a lump in his throat so large that he was almost gagging.

“Albus, what the fuck is wrong? What did I do?” he choked out.

Albus laughed, a mirthless sound with a tinge of hysteria. “What didn’t you do? Who didn’t you do? Now, I’m deadly serious. I’m going to the common room. You have ten minutes to remove every trace of evidence that you’ve ever been here. Anything of yours that you leave behind gets thrown in the lake. Pack up and get the fuck out. Now.” He stood up and Scorpius could see that he was clutching his wand as if he were prepared to hex Scorpius.

When he tried to walk past, Scorpius grabbed his arm. Albus froze and fixed him with a stare so full of hate that Scorpius simply let go and let him walk out.

As if he were in a trance, Scorpius threw the few things that weren’t already neatly put away into his trunk. He tried to cast a levitation charm, but his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t even do the simple charm.

Grabbing his trunk, he dragged it down the stairs and into the common room. Albus came over to him, and for one shining moment, Scorpius thought that maybe Albus would hug him and tell him that it was some kind of sick joke, or a spell, but Albus just held out his hand. “You’re forgetting one thing.”

He dropped something into Scorpius’s hand, and disappeared up the stairs back to the bedroom. Scorpius looked down. In his hand was Albus’s ring. Scorpius numbly put it into his pocket and dragged his trunk to the door.

He couldn’t make his brain comprehend what had happened. Before he realized where he’d been going, he was at the door to Ravenclaw Tower. The brass raven opened its beak and squawked:
“I am the beginning of sorrow, and the end of sickness.
You cannot express happiness without me, yet I am in the midst of crosses.
I am always in risk, yet never in danger.
You’ll find me in the sun, but I am never out of darkness. What am I?”

“The letter ‘S,’” Scorpius murmured absently. The door swung open and he dragged his trunk inside.

Several Ravenclaws in the common room looked at him oddly. “Where’s Rose Weasley?” he asked no one in particular. No one answered. “Well, someone fucking find her NOW!” he bellowed. Several people jumped up, and some people disappeared through doors.
He realized for the first time that tears were streaming down his face. He wondered how long they’d been coming. Considering that the front of his shirt was damp, he suspected it had been a while.

Suddenly, Rose’s arms were around him. “Scorpius, god, what’s wrong?”

Everyone was still staring, so she took his hand and led him up to the seventh-year girl’s dormitory, which was thankfully empty. She gently propelled him to the bed and sat next to him. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“He hates me. I have no idea why. But he hates me. He hates me, Rosie.” His voice broke on the last word and he suddenly began to sob. He bent down and put his head in her lap and sobbed like a child into the folds of her skirt. She stroked his hair and his back, gently, like a mother.

He didn’t think he’d cried like this since he was about four years old, but he couldn’t stop. He clutched Rose’s skirt in both fists and cried like his life was over. Which it was.

He clung to Rose and sobbed for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he didn’t seem to have any tears left, but he didn’t let go of her. The front of her skirt was soaking wet and stuck to his face, but he didn’t care.

She continued to pet him gently. Once he’d finally settled down, she asked, “Sweetie, can you explain what happened? I’m sure Albus doesn’t hate you.”

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, which were puffy and sore. “You didn’t see him. You didn’t see how he looked at me. He definitely hates me. And he wouldn’t even say what happened.” She took his hand and rubbed her thumb across his knuckles. He continued in a dull, flat tone, “I went upstairs and he was on the bed. He told me to ‘pack my shit and get the fuck out.’ In those exact words. When I tried to talk to him, he just looked at me and it was like he punched me in the face. Worse than that, though. I literally almost fell just from the look in his eyes.

When I got down to the common room, he was waiting and I thought he might… I don’t know… Change his mind? But he gave me the ring back, Rosie. He broke up with me. He broke off our engagement, and I don’t even know why. I swear I didn’t do anything wrong. In fact he was fine this morning. He left me that note that I told you about. That said he l-loved me. Something happened in only a few hours that made him leave me. Oh, god, Rosie, he left me! What am I going to do?” He could hear the hysteria building in his own voice and it scared him.

“Shhh, love,” she crooned, wrapping her arms around him. “There has to be an explanation. Something that he didn’t understand. I know you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re an angel and you love him so much. We’ll figure it out. It has to be a misunderstanding.”

“But he l-left me. I just want to die. I think I’m dying. Rosie, you’re going to be a healer. I can die from this, can’t I? Because I think I’m dying.”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” she said sadly, and he could hear that she was crying now, too. “I know it feels like that, but we’ll make him understand, love,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears. Whatever’s gone wrong, we’ll figure out how to fix it. We’re the brainy ones, remember? Top of our class. We’ll figure out what to do.”

“We have to. God, what if we can’t?”

“We can and we will. We don’t have a choice. You’re meant to be together. Something has gone horribly wrong, but it can be put right. You trust me, right?”

“With my life.”

“Then believe what I’m saying to you. We’ll fix this.”

“Okay. I believe you,” he lied.

He let her help him take his clothes off, and when he was in his shorts, he slid under the covers. He watched her get undressed, politely averting his gaze when she took her bra off, and a moment later, she climbed into the bed next to him, wearing an oversized t-shirt.

He laid next to her, stiff and scared. He felt completely out of control. He hated the feeling of not knowing what to do. “Rosie,” he whispered.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Will you tell me what to do? I’m scared,” he pleaded, hating his weakness.

“Oh, love,” she whispered. She snuggled up next to him, wrapping her arms around him. “Just let me take care of you until you fall asleep.” She began stroking his hair again. It felt nice, but it didn’t help.

Her presence was comforting, though. He felt less afraid with her arms around him. “He always kisses me goodnight. How can I go to sleep without him? Will you kiss me goodnight, Rose?” he asked childishly.

She pressed her lips to his, briefly but gently. It wasn’t anything like Albus’s goodnight kisses, but it reminded him of his mother. He felt like he was regressing. Like he wanted Rose to be his mother, so that she would make everything better.

He wondered if he was losing his mind, but he’d read somewhere that crazy people don’t wonder if they’re crazy. They think they’re perfectly sane. So he reasoned that he must be clinging to his fragile sanity. For now at least.

She continued to pet him, and he could feel his bone-weariness catching up with him. “Will you tell me you love me? I need to know that someone still loves me.”

“Of course I love you. I won’t stop, I promise. Not ever.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. And that was the last thing he remembered before he slipped into sleep.