Chapter Text
ALBUS
Genius has always been a close relative to madness - so how could Albus blame Ariana for the way she was? He gazed at her sleeping face; the final reward after a rather magnificent tantrum that had spanned two rooms and cost a vase and Aberforth’s old lamp.
He laid her down gently in her bed, wishing his brother was home today - he was out, a rare occurence, to hunt for some herbs at the small willowy creek north of Godric’s Hollow. According to him anyway - he was probably out fighting other delinquent wizards. Albus didn’t really care anymore.
He couldn’t care - he was above caring. He had to be. His mind would get him out of this damned house, cursed and wretched since - since, whatever happened. He wasn’t going to think about that, either. He’d discard his old life here soon, he was sure of it. He had to. He was too brilliant to stay here - he’d support his family, of course, but he knew he was destined for greatness beyond taking care of an unwell girl and tolerating his wayward brother.
But still, Kendra’s face flashed before his eyes as he gazed upon Ariana. Her hair was soft, long and golden, tinging copper from the light that seeped through the wispy, torn curtains (he’d mended them with magic so many times, but she’d singed them off all the same). He touched it, marvelling at how the light had cast its own magic on it. It looked almost auburn. Like his father’s. Like his own.
—
Not contrary to popular belief, there wasn’t much to do in Godric’s Hollow. They were bound for a boring summer, after having been ditched by Elphias for their Grand Tour. Their Grand Tour! That Albus had mostly planned - he thought, irritation bubbling within whenever he thought about it. He loved Elphie, but he envied him so deeply - he had a natural sweetness, an empty mind, and a lack of troublesome siblings.
He tried not to think about it. This morning’s effort in distraction was a quiet walk through the small woodsy area outside of the main town area, away from prying eyes of his silly, gossipy neighbours. He didn’t want their pity. Or maybe he couldn’t bear it.
Albus wore his usual old, rugged tunic, and his trousers. His hair was in a small ponytail so that his thin neck was bare to the summer sun. It was rather hot, he thought, sweat starting to film over his skin. He cast a cooling charm, but there was still a heat under his skin, an itch. Restlessness. He was so bored, for Merlin’s sake- so bored, but he only had so much time left before Ariana woke up- and what could he do? Read and daydream about escaping again? He sighed as he stared into the landscape, the sloping paths and the painted hills behind them. The world was endless before him; but he had to limit himself. He was just too good, wasn’t he? Albus was perfect. He was the responsible brother, the most intelligent student, a wonderful wizard, and he was a good man - if he did think so himself, though he couldn’t say it out loud.
He stood there, a spare breeze bristling at him, sweeping his hair to the side. The flimsy hair ribbon unleashed itself and floated into the wind, into the wilderness that Albus had so wanted to explore. And though his blue eyes were perfectly still and his posture was beautifully straight, he felt quite untamed, anyway. Like he could burst at any moment. He looked up at the blue sky, vast and now unavailable to him.
The stray hair over his eyes tinged gold - like Ariana’s. He had to go back now.
In a flash, he apparated himself back to the warm, stuffy living room of his house. His mother’s things were still scattered everywhere. He couldn’t touch them - Ari and Abe would scream and cry and curse if he did. It was like they were being embalmed alive with their mother.
Grief had seeped in through to the very walls. Kendra Dumbledore’s stern face stared at him from every angle as he walked through the living room, up the stairs, on the walls of their peeling corridors. He could hear Ari and Abe softly speaking about something or other in her room. He always loved her best, better than Albus ever could.
His hand hovered over the doorknob. He gazed at the chicken-scratch on the wooden door - and the small sign saying his sister’s name, squashed in between floral emblems. Should he enter? He heard Abe chuckle. They never laughed anymore when Albus was around.
Why was he even here? It was the holidays. There wasn’t a need for Albus while Abe was here to care for Ari, wasn’t there?
“… really? Any kind of sweet?”
“… yes, Hogsmeade’s all sorts of magic-“
Talking about the world again to her - Albus almost scoffed. There was no point. She would never know it, not as Albus would.
He swallowed, his hand drawing away from the doorknob. He took a step back, and went back to his room, ignoring the laughter from Ari’s room.
—
ALBUS SEVERUS
“Fuck!”
“No swearing, James-“
“Oh come off it, Mum, I’m nineteen!”
Albus watched as James bustled around the house, searching for some knick knack or something other (he hadn’t bothered to listen to his usual whining).
“I’m late!” James yelled to himself.
“We know,” Albus replied dryly.
He was going to meet up with a couple of friends for a casual Quidditch game. Albus was not invited, though his father had tried to strongly encourage it when James had brought it up, earning sour looks from both his sons and a laugh from Lily.
“Just Accio it,” Ginny said, annoyed by her son’s useless prattling about his missing item.
“Not working- I charmed it against Accio..”
“Why would you do that? That’s stupid,” Albus replied.
“Because it’s my wallet, and I don’t want your grubby fingers all up in it.”
“Stealing what? Your three Knuts?”
“Oi! I’ve got like two Galleons in there. Probably.”
Albus rolled his eyes, then got up from the sofa. He lifted up a cushion - and there it was, James’ overpriced Muggle-style wallet that he’d begged Harry for.
“What the hell, Al?” James muttered, snatching the wallet up. “Your fat arse was on it the whole time?”
“Just go, already!”
“Fine, bye, bye-“ James went to the fireplace and in a flash of green smoke, he’d disappeared.
Albus sat back on the sofa, sighing as he sunk into it. Unlike his siblings, his holidays were friend-free. It had been that way ever since-
He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about that. It was fine - he’d just study for his N.E.W.Ts and binge watch Muggle shows. No big deal.
“Al, honey,” he could hear his mum say. “Do you want to follow me to Diagon Alley later? I’m picking up some supplies.”
Albus sighed. “You feel sorry for me.”
His mum sat next to him, watching as her son sank further into the sofa. “Well… I hate seeing you sad. That’s all. We can even pick something up from the menagerie for Artie. Or Flourish & Blotts. Or-“
“Okay, okay, you don’t have to bribe me,” the sixteen-year old gave her a small smile. “I’ll come with you.”
“Perfect!” Ginny Potter’s smile was as bright as her flaming red hair. “Be ready by 2.”
Albus felt lamer than ever as he watched his mum bustle off. He was truly pathetic - his only friend was his mum, for Merlin’s sake. And not even his dad too, since he’d been so moody towards him lately. He knew his dad was trying, but Circe, he was only ever reminded that he indirectly caused his state as a social pariah in Hogwarts.
Never mind. Albus thought as he got up, and walked up to his bedroom. There, Artie sat in his cage, looking sweetly at Albus. He stroked his feathers softly.
“Well, at least I have you,” Albus muttered.
The owl blinked back at him.
“Even if you don’t speak..”
—
Ginny ended up arguing with the shopkeeper extensively about the price increase in broom handle replacements, so much so that it had spanned past fifteen minutes. Now Albus was out of the store and ready to explore Diagon Alley on his own, unable to handle any more second-hand embarrassment from his mother.
The streets were as busy as ever. It was the holidays after all, and he could see all sorts of families walking up and down the street. He thought about visiting Uncle George at the joke shop, but then decided against it. What if he ran into Rose or Hugo? He was still on awkward terms with them, and Rose just straight up didn’t like him.
The worst thing about having an absolutely massive family was that he was pretty sure he’d run into one of them anytime he was in a local spot in the Wizarding World, and he really, really didn’t feel like seeing any cousins or uncles or aunts today. He just wanted to hide away in his room. It had been a mistake to come out, he realised as he paced through the street, his eyes flicking through the crowds in hopes he didn’t see any related redheads.
“Guys, let’s go into the Emporium!” he heard as he saw a little friend group of kids excitedly gather in front of the Owl Emporium - they rushed in together, and Albus suddenly felt a wave of loneliness. But the one person that he’d ever let in, the one person that had ever been his friend..
He blinked fast, trying not to feel whatever emotion that was trying to bubble up inside of him. How positively un-Slytherin. And he hated his crying face - James always said it was ugly.
Quickly, he started to walk faster ahead, through the crowd, barely short of sprinting as he tried to make his way out of here, anywhere but here. He didn’t want to be anywhere, anymore. He could feel this strange panic incoming as he stayed within the crowd, and he just wanted to leave.
I only want to be alone - Albus thought as he leaned against a wall, finally stopping when he was too tired to move anymore. His eyes darted for a moment as he slumped down, on the dirty cobblestone. There was no one.
And now I’m really alone.
—
GELLERT
“That’s the last of it?”
Gellert turned to look at his Papa - a balding, stone-faced man. He had lost his looks to time years ago, unlike his mother, who was addicted to dark cosmetic remedies and whose face was no longer able to make anything beyond two expressions.
“Yes, Papa,” he said, closing his trunk with his wand. “That’s the last of it. You're looking happy to be rid of me.”
“Gell-“
“Shut up. I don’t want to hear it,” Gellert muttered.
“We tried- we tried to get the governors and the headmaster to reconsider your expulsion. But you didn’t make it easy either,” Lord Grindewald growled. “Trying to hex Herr Aelfric with-“
“He insulted me,” Gellert said.
“You need to get your temper under control,” Lord Grindelwald replied. “How will you manage our estate, our magic, with this sort of impulsivity? A summer with your great-aunt will do you good. She’s a wise lady. Powerful, but disciplined.. which we have clearly failed to do to you.”
Gellert didn’t say anything. Aunt Bathilda was just a hag - he’d run circles around her and he could relegate his life back to searching for the Deathly Hallows and developing his skills in the Dark Arts. And if he had any bigger plans.. well none of these idiots had to know.
“Fine,” Gellert said curtly. “Goodbye. Say bye to Mama for me, if she ever wakes up from her Sleeping Draught.”
“Don’t speak about your mother that way,” his father hissed. “Gellert!"
And with that, Gellert grabbed his trunk and then snatched up the portkey on his bed - a old hairbrush - and in a whirl, the Grindewald manor disappeared.
—
Aunt Bathilda was surprisingly pleasant and intelligent, but Gellert could already tell Godric’s Hollow was going to drive him insane. And he was already a little insane - even he could admit that.
“What do wizards my age do for fun around here?” Gellert asked his aunt.
“Oh,” Aunt Bathilda sighed. “Nothing much. Duelling, fishing, gardening. There’s a Gobstones club in town.”
“No thanks,” he muttered, fingers running along his tussled, blond hair. “I’m more of a Wizards’ Chess kind of man.”
“Hm,” his aunt looked thoughtful. “Well- there are some pretty witches here if you’re-“
“Aunt Bathilda!” Gellert laughed. “I’m to be betrothed in a few years. I thought you knew that.”
“To be,” she pointed out. “You aren’t, not yet.” She smiled. “Well, Pattison’s Pastries are looking for a new kitchen hand, if you’d like a job.”
“I’m afraid my culinary magic is limited,” the blond lied. “But I’ll think about all the options you’ve mentioned. I might just invade your library for the summer, really.”
Bathilda chuckled. “Now I know you’re definitely my great-nephew.”
She left him to his own devices after a few hours and he walked around the village, exploring on his own. It really was a sleepy, nowhere town - much to his horror. Even Muggle Munich was more exciting than this place.
As he wandered to the edges of the forest, he could slowly see the rolling hills - the Cotswolds, were they? - and then in sight, like the sun, appeared a beauty so bright that Gellert had to blink once or twice.
There, at the edge of the woods, near him but not quite so, was another boy. His hair was auburn, he was shorter than Gellert, and his eyes were almost cerulean in the light. Gellert could see the almost-golden tint of his feathery lashes, the curve of his small nose. What great luck, Gellert had, to even bear witness to such a face! He himself was considered a handsome man, but he’d never thought anyone else one as well- not till today.
But before he could approach him, or do anything else - the man disapparated with a soft crack, leaving nothing behind but the wind in Gellert’s ears.
Gellert blinked. Then slowly, he began to smile. Joy of joys. The beauty was a wizard!
—
SCORPIUS
“Oh bloody hell- forgot I had this,” Scorpius watched as his father fished out a rather disfigured looking hand from one of the boxes.
They were currently going through the attic of their French summer home, while Astoria read outside with some tea. Draco, on the other hand, decided that he desperately wanted to clean out his attic so that he could convert it into a “cleaner” place. Or at least a room that wasn’t filled with memories and secret documents related to a dead Dark Lord.
“What’s that?” Scorpius asked.
“A Hand of Glory,” Draco sniffed. “Your grandfather bought this for me. And it was used for .. unsavoury deeds.”
“Ooh,” Scorpius shook his head. “Transfigure it and throw it away.”
Draco grimaced. “Can’t with this one. I’m setting it aside. But for all these stupid papers…” he disappeared the rest of the trash into the nether world. “I can destroy them.”
Scorpius whistled, looking around the now almost-clean attic. There was only his grandparents’ old pairs of armchairs and the Hand left.
“Let’s go and join your mother for tea,” Draco said decisively. “She’ll be happy to hear about this.”
Scorpius nodded and followed his father. The light turned off by itself as they left the attic.
—
Scorpius always loved the south of France - and this year, he was surely loving it more. He’d gotten a growth spurt and his body training from recent extracurricular Hippogriff taming activities (much to his grandfather’s amusement and his father’s horror) had all amounted to his newfound popularity amongst French witches, who ooh-la-la’d over him and cycled him around the local vineyards. They’d cast disillusionment charms and have sex in the grass, dirt in between their toes, feeding each other stolen grapes and berries. It was all very exciting.
His mother’s health had also improved this summer compared to the last, and they could do so much more together. They’d taken an enchanted boat out to the French Riveria, and attended a few balls. Astoria had even brought him to the Muggle parts of Marseilles, and they’d taken a Muggle photo booth picture of the two of them. Draco became slightly distressed that it wasn’t moving, but Scorpius assured him that it was normal. This did not stop Draco from enchanting the picture to move - and then Astoria had framed it above the fireplace.
Still, Scorpius found himself restless at times. He didn’t know why. Maybe he needed to use more magic, or do a duel, or something - he looked out of his bedroom window, watching the unchanging scenery. Maybe he should go talk to Lila Dubois or the Bernards witch from next door. A bit of fooling around would cheer him up, wouldn’t it?
But.. he didn’t feel like it. Scorpius turned to his desk and Accio’d his textbook towards him, before tossing it aside. Then he looked at the ceiling. He didn’t want to do any N.E.W.Ts revision, not today.
Scorpius treaded downstairs, hoping to invade the wine cellar if his parents weren’t present, and the kitchens if they were - and to his surprise, his father was getting into the Floo.
“Dad?” he said. “Where are you off to?”
“Knockturn Alley,” his father grimaced. “Need to sell this disgusting thing back to Borgin and Burke’s.”
“Can I come?” Scorpius did miss London. “I’m bored.”
“You want to follow your old father on an errand? Why not,” Draco smiled, before shouting. “Tori! Bringing Scorp for my errand!”
“Okay!” there was a mild shout from upstairs, where Astoria was doing some goblin research or other academic thing that Scorpius couldn’t understand.
“Alright, Scorp,” Draco said. “Here we go. Knockturn Alley!”
He disappeared as he released the Floo powder. Scorpius mimicked him, albeit more ungracefully. He coughed and sputtered as he landed in a random fireplace, blinking to see that he was in a rather spooky-looking shop.
“Grimy place. Don’t touch anything,” Draco said.
Everything looked.. eerie. There were jars with strange creatures preserved in them, and weird awful artefacts that Astoria would absolutely destroy if they came anywhere near the manor. Scorpius couldn’t understand how his granddad brought his dad here. The most “dangerous” place Lucius ever brought Scorpius to was Fortescue’s during their Tallest-Ice-Cream Challenge, which had Scorpius puking for an hour afterwards.
“Actually, just wait outside,” Draco said, watching his son’s tepid expression.
“Yeah,” Scorpius murmured, walking by a cursed Sneakoscope. “I think I will.”
He walked outside as Draco began to barter with the grouchy shopkeeper. Knockturn Alley. Everyone here looked.. seedy. He shuddered as his gaze flickered around - until it landed on a strange lump on the floor, near a pillar.
Except that it wasn’t a lump. It was his ex-best friend, slowly getting up from the floor.
“Albus?” he said.
Albus turned. And Scorpius wasn’t the only one blessed by Glinda this summer, for Albus Severus was no longer as awkward and gangly as he had been for the past six years at Hogwarts. Rather, he’d grown into his looks - and now here he was, in Muggle clothes, with jet-ink lashes and cheekbones and those bloody green eyes and his slim arms and legs- why in Merlin’s name was he ogling his ex-best friend? Whom he ditched because he was- well, just not.. the best person to be around at school.
But now, he looked-
“Scorpius..” Albus swallowed, and Scorpius tried not to watch how his Adam’s apple moved. “What are you- you doing here?”
“Errands, with my dad,” Scorpius replied softly. “How are you?”
Albus’s mouth twitched. It was pink and perfect. “Good. But why do you care?”
“I don’t,” Scorpius hesitated. “I do. I still- you know..”
“Forget it, Scorp. I know you’re a popular kid like Rosie now,” Albus laughed. “It’s fine. Please continue ignoring me.”
Yeah, but I don’t really want to. Scorpius sighed, his grey eyes looking into Albus’ emerald ones. “I- I’m sorry for how our friendship ended. I told you- in that letter-“
“I burnt it,” Albus lied.
“Wh-“ Scorpius huffed. “Okay, no. I get it- I’ve been an arsehole to you, but..”
Albus crossed his arms.
“But- I’m really..”
The door from behind was suddenly pushed open, earning a jangling noise from the wind chimes at the entrance. Draco Malfoy stepped out, muttering under his breath about stupid old men, before he spotted the pair.
“Scorp? Oh, hello, Albus,” Draco waved politely. “Long time no see.”
“Hi Mr Malfoy,” Albus mumbled, blushing slightly in embarassment.
Draco made a face as he looked between the two of them - then he turned to Albus again. “You should come by sometime and spend the holiday with us, at our summer villa. Scorp will send you the address.”
“What?!” Scorpius half-yelled.
“Er,” Albus looked nervous, to the point of near-collapse. “Sure?”
“Perfect,” Draco smiled. “Now, Scorpius - we’re off to the Madam Maulkin’s. I want to pick up something for your mother.”
“Dad- wait-“ Scorpius sounded panicked. “Bye Albus. Dad- wait!”
They both walked into the streets, with Draco looking as haughty and proud as he usually did, strutting into Diagon Alley at his turbo-pace, while Scorpius tried to keep up and explainn to his father about what he had just done.
“Dad,” Scorpius groaned. “Why’d you invite my ex-best friend to spend the summer with us?”
“I never understood why you two even fell out. You said it wasn’t because of my bad relationship with his father, and I hope it wasn’t because Potter and I are on decent terms, Scorp-“
“No, Dad,” Scorpius huffed. “We- fell- it was for - a stupid reason! Just why would you even invite him?!”
“I thought I was doing you a favour,” Draco sniffed.
“How on earth is that a favour?!”
“The boy was blushing and you looked like you just saw a Veela, so I just assumed.. you two...”
A flash of Albus’ slim legs ran through Scorpius’ mind and he immediately started shaking his head vehemently. “No! Dad- I’m.. not.. with him..”
“Oh,” Draco frowned. “Apologies, son. I.. shouldn’t have assumed.”
Scorpius’ ears were red. “And- and I can’t believe you would be okay with that. It’s still Harry Potter’s son, you know?”
Draco smirked. “That’s why I’m okay with it. It’s a win for me. And maybe he could help you with your Potions, Merlin knows you need it.”
“Dad!”
“Sorry! But yes, feel free to rescind the invite..”
Scorpius fell silent as his father babbled on. Rescind the invite? But.. he didn’t really want to either. He played with his wand in his pocket as his mind trailed back to Albus. When had he gotten so pretty? It really was a mystery.
And maybe- maybe a few days together in the summertime couldn’t hurt.