Taming

He opened his eyes, or more accurately one eye, since one seemed to be swollen shut, and could barely make out the image of Madam Somerset, the school nurse, waving a wand over him, muttering.

“Sally, I need another bottle of Essence of Dittany over here,” she called softly to someone outside Scorpius’s field of vision.

“Right away Madam.”

Something wet touched his face, and then he faded out again. When he came to, most of the pain was gone, although his ribs and cheek were quite sore. He tried to sit up a little and fell back with a groan.

“Don’t move, dear.” Madam Somerset was there now, hovering over him. “I’m afraid you had two cracked ribs and a shattered cheekbone. I had to give you Skele-Gro, and there will be some pain until the bones are finished mending. If you feel up to talking, the headmaster is very interested to know who caused these injuries.”

“I don’t know,” Scorpius managed to whisper.

“You don’t know?”

“He hit me in the nose first, and I went down hard. He kept punching me, but he was above me and I couldn’t see. Then I blacked out, I guess.”

“I see,” she said, though it sounded like she didn’t really believe him.

“Are you going to send an owl to my parents?” he whispered.

“Well, considering you didn’t do anything wrong, I don’t see a need. There wasn’t so much as a scratch on your hands, so I can see that you didn’t inflict any damage to anyone. Which, if as you say, you were immediately knocked down isn’t surprising.”

“My mother’s been ill, and I don’t want my parents to worry about me.”

“Tsk. Well, I won’t send anything to your home, but if something like this happens again, I’ll need to for your safety.”

“Naturally. May I go now?”

“Mr. Malfoy! You have bones re-growing. You should be back on your feet tomorrow. We can talk about it then.”

Scorpius sighed. There was nothing for it but to drink down the potion she held to his lips and let sleep claim him again. At least asleep he didn’t keep seeing Albus’s stricken face as the Slytherins laughed and pointed. However he did dream of him.

Scorpius pulled hard on the left oar, deftly steering the rowboat around the tree limb that Albus had helpfully pointed out. “It’s a simply beautiful day, isn’t it Darling?” Albus asked sweetly.

Scorpius looked around. The sky was an ominous greenish-gray and all the trees were devoid of leaves; their skeletal branches made black silhouettes against the darkening sky. Lightning flashed in a pattern that looked like a forked tongue. Albus pushed him back against the boat and leaned in to kiss him, but when he stuck his tongue into Scorpius’s mouth, it was flickering and forked as well, like a snake’s tongue.

Albus stood above him, wearing Slytherin robes, and pointed down at him. “Liar! Sssscorpiusss… What liessss you tell from your pretty lipssss,” he hissed. Scorpius could hear laughter from the distant bank. He stood up to try to explain and Albus became Hugo Weasley and knocked him into the lake. He floundered in the water, and Albus, Albus again, tossed him a rope. But the rope was a snake and it wrapped slowly around Scorpius’s arms, slowly tangling, until Scorpius could no longer tread water and he went down, down down…

Scorpius sat up with a start, breathing heavily. He was dimly aware of someone holding a cup of water to his lips, but the water tasted murky and brackish, like lake water. He gagged on it.

Scorpius sat in a throne that was gilded and covered with jewels and silken cushions. Lily Potter reclined at his feet wearing harem pants. She was topless, her nipples were rouged and her eyes were heavily outlined in kohl. Whenever he looked at her, she would feed him a peeled grape. Mirabella Zabini, dressed the same way, was fanning him with a large palm frond. Suddenly a heavily veiled figure appeared before him and began an elaborate striptease. Reedy music was playing from somewhere, and as the figure removed veils, Scorpius could see that the dancer was Albus Potter. He whirled and spun to the beat of the music, his lithe body moving sinuously.

When he flung away the last veil, Albus prostrated himself before Scorpius’s throne. Scorpius held out his hand to Albus, but in his hand was an ornamental dagger. Albus took it, and before Scorpius could stop him, Albus plunged it into his own chest.

Scorpius cried out, but the girls showed no signs of understanding what had happened. Scorpius grabbed Albus’s limp body, and as the life drained from his green eyes, Albus whispered, “Thank you.”

He was being shaken awake by a gentle hand.

“Time for more potion, dear. You’re almost mended now.” The potion burned his throat and he idly wondered if it was poison. It was no less than he deserved.

Scorpius sat, enjoying the sweet-smelling breeze. It was a lovely, sunny day, and under the large marquee, the mood was festive. Scorpius shifted on the hard, wooden chair. The girl sitting next to him, the one from his N.E.W.T. level Charms class who was always glaring at him if he dared to mutter aloud, shot him a quelling look. He faced forward, folded his hands in his lap and ceased fidgeting.

At the front of the marquee, Albus Potter stood, wearing a perfect, crisp black tuxedo. Scorpius tried to smile at him, but he was looking somewhere behind Scorpius. Scorpius didn’t dare try to turn around again, so he waited patiently. Some music began to play and everyone rose and faced the back of the marquee. Scorpius followed suit, and saw the blonde Slytherin fourth-year who had propositioned him. She was clad in a set of white robes, carrying a bunch of roses, and walking slowly toward Albus.

When she reached the front, everyone sat back down. An elderly wizard spoke to the assembled guests. “If any witch or wizard sees a reason that these two should not marry, may she or he speak now or never again.” Scorpius opened his mouth, but no sound would come out. He tried to shout, but there was still nothing. He tried to move, but the girl next to him was glaring at him again. He couldn’t budge nor make even the barest whisper. “Let us begin,” intoned the elderly wizard.

Inside Scorpius’s head, he screamed, “ALBUS!”

“Mr. Malfoy, are you awake?” Madam Somerset’s voice was soft.

“Yes.” The pain was gone from his face and chest, but he felt weary to his very soul.

“You’re all finished with the treatments. If you’d like to return to your dormitory now, it will be fine. You’ll likely want to rest a bit more before classes resume tomorrow.”

Scorpius swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly climbed out. He was still wearing the same outfit from two nights ago. Someone had performed a cleaning charm and removed the blood from his shirt. He wished they hadn’t.

When he entered the Slytherin common room, he was immediately accosted by a gang of students who were demanding to know what had happened to him. He waved them off and went to his bedroom. He removed his clothing and looked at it dispassionately. He wadded the pants and shirt in a ball and stuffed them in the farthest corner of his wardrobe. He started to put on a pair of silk pyjama bottoms, but he was suddenly reminded of the harem pants Lily Potter had been wearing in his dream. He flung the pants away and climbed into bed, naked.