Chapter Text
Albus was happy to say that in the end, they were able to successfully make it back to their dorm unnoticed and without leaving a paint trail. They had taken off their shoes, rolled up their pants and wrapped themselves in some spare fabric used to stop paint from getting on the floor. Not that they were ever used for that.
The fabric probably hadn't left the corner for twenty plus years, and it showed. The floor was so colourful that Albus doubted anyone would even notice the new splotch of emerald green that adorned it.
There had been one near miss with Filch, but that was it. Once they reached the dorm, they were both able to shower and dispose of their paint covered clothes without a problem. For some odd reason, their neighbours never did question why they were showering in the middle of the night, despite it being a fairly frequent occurrence.
Albus would take cold showers sometimes at one am to keep himself alert for schoolwork while Scorpius would take hot showers because… Well, Albus didn't really know why exactly, he had the impression that the scorching steam helped him forget.
Due to the late nature of their night, Albus was even more tired and cranky than usual the next day. Like a cat with claws bared ready to pounce. Or at least that's how his parents used to say when he was little.
Scorpius was awake enough, but Albus was certain that was due to the extra long nap he had taken in geometry, having finished the work the day prior. So, the whole day went as follows: Albus would start to doze off and Scorpius would remind him what the class was working on. Albus lasted until gym class, where he excused himself to go lay down in the Med wing on the premise of a “stomachache”.
Once Madam Pomfrey caught on, it was already elective time, and he was released. Scorpius was nowhere to be found. Albus took a peek at his schedule left on his desk to discover that the other boy had tutoring that afternoon.
Albus was effectively alone, again. For what seemed like the hundredth time in the last week. It was disturbing to him, and, if he was honest, quite humiliating. Albus hadn’t been this codependent on anyone since he was two. Much less someone he had barely known for over a week.
He tried to write the essay due in geometry. But, he just could find anything exhilarating about the presence of mathematics in sports. Especially given the fact that they were both topics that he had zero interest in whatsoever.
To put it simply, watching paint dry would've been more stimulating.
So, he decided to watch paint dry.
Albus had been working on this piece for months. It was a baby bird stuck on the ground while others spread their wings above him. He didn't know why he had chosen that. Or rather, he didn't want to think of why it spoke to him as it did.
Still, he just couldn't. All that was left was to add the highlighting, but even that seemed a chore. Despite the fact that it was usually one of his favourite parts.
Albus sighed and tilted back his chair, perhaps a little too much, as he found himself lurching back. He hit the ground with a resolute thud. His ears were ringing from the impact.
He just lay there for several minutes, thinking. What has my life got to? Then, once the ringing had gone down to a dull ache, he maneuvered himself out the door.
Albus found himself wandering the halls, letting his feet carry him. He passed the trophy case and the bustling kitchen before he arrived at the field. It certainly wasn't where he intended to go, as he hadn't had a destination in mind, but it seemed to fit.
He sat down right on the dewy grass and just watched. Albus regretted that choice immediately. The ground was soaked
Hogwarts really needed to cut down on the sprinklers. It was getting quite excessive at this point. The field was so green that it was a surprise they hadn't attracted every grazing animal within a thousand miles. It was fine though.
It was the varsity lacrosse team. Albus could clearly make out James darting through the crowd. A red vest over their usual jersey marking him as the opposite team for the scrimmage. He whirled past the defence, and passed it toward his teammate, scoring easily.
This pattern continued for the rest of the practice. It was actually quite relaxing to watch. The way the players moved was like a dance. So maybe that was why everyone loved sports so much. Then there was a vicious crack as two of the players ran head first into each other and Albus changed his mind.
Lacrosse was most certainly not an art.
After the practice, Albus watched as the juniors varsity team began to file out. He recognized a few. Most of them were in his year.
They had just begun warm-ups, when James came up behind him. “Hiya Al. Did you like the practice?” He asked
“It was… passable.” Albus smirked
“Why you little…” James started, before taking a prolonged breath of air. Clearly trying to bite back a ‘Slythering Slytherin’, or one of the many other equally annoying nicknames.
“Listen, I came to talk to you because” James paused, seemingly pained by the words. “I'm sorry, I was a bit of a prick to you the other day, well more than usual. And, I just wanted to know that I care about you littl- Al. Sooooo yeah.”
James kicked at the grass nervously. Albus was dumbstruck. James apologized of his own accord. That was… impossible.
“Who put you up to it?”
James' head shot up. “What nobody! I just wanted to apologize, be mature or whatever. Arrgh! Why does this have to be so bloody difficult?!”
Albus softened. James was being sincere. He was actually apologizing, this wasn't another teasing jab like usual.
“I'll just go then.” James said, defeated.
“No!” Albus yelped, reaching his hand out to his brother. Then, softer, “It's alright, I overreacted too. I know that teasing is your love language. Just… try not to hit so close to home.”
James beamed like an excited puppy. “Really?!”
“Yeah”
“Well, break is coming up… do you want to spend some time together? We could play football.”
Albus nodded slowly, football was the sport he disliked the least. He was decent at it. Just not when his opponents were over a head taller than him. James and him used to play it all the time when they were younger. Which must've been why he was suggesting it now.
“That could be fun” he agreed, “Maybe we could also play some board games…?”
James grinned even more at Albus’s obvious redirect of the conversation. His dislike of organized sports wasn't exactly a secret. Although, he didn't mind playing with James that much, even though he always won.
“Sounds great, Al, wanna come to the mess hall with me? I like going early to finish up homework”
“Okay”
The mess hall was indeed quiet. To the point that you hear a pin drop and the individual's rustle of pages. There were other students there, mostly year sixes and sevens, but a sprinkling of younger students including…
“Roooosssseeee” Albus groaned audibly.
Of course, she was there. Why would she miss the opportunity to study more?
“I thought you two were friends.” James said, pinching his clueless eyebrows.
“Yes,” Albus replied flatly. “When we were ten.”
“Well, you best be friends now.” James hooked his elbow with Albus’s and practically hopped over to their cousin. The only thing stopping him was his younger brother’s dragging feet.
“Hello Rose!” He said jauntily, waving his arm like he was across a crowd from Rose, rather than ten centimetres from her face.
“How do you do this afternoon?”
Rose shot him a suspicious glare and huffed, holding up her book. “Studying obviously.”
“But what are you studying, my dear cousin?” James pried. Clearly getting on Rose's nerves by the way she held the book in a death grip.
“Astronomy.” She gritted.
“What about it?” Albus interjected, surprising even himself.
The redhead relaxed and looked at the ceiling. That definitely wasn't a good sign. She only looked at the ceiling when she was about to talk about something, a lot. When she got that way, she could go on for days if no one stopped her.
“Well… Stars are actually quite fascinating and more complex than many people see. There are many types of stars, such as blue supergiants and dwarf stars. The sun itself is actually a yellow dwarf star. In addition, constellations have their own complex history…”
At that point, Albus zoned out, nodding along. He watched her mouth move, but didn't really absorb any of it.
“Then there is Scorpius.” She started.
“What about him?” He asked, defences rising.
Rose rolled her eyes, like she just couldn't believe how unintelligent her family was. “Scorpius the constellation. Not Scorpius the person.”
“Oh,” Albus breathed, hot shame prickling his skin. Privately, he just thought that Scorpius had a weird name. He'd never realized that it was after a constellation.
Albus really couldn't judge or even tease his roommate for the odd name, considering the fact that his was an elderly man's name. After all, that is who he was named after, good old Albus Dumbledore.
“That's interesting” he said nonchalantly, picking a stray bit of lint shaped like Australia from his jumper.
“Well yes, from what I know most of his family is named after constellations, stars, planets or galaxies.” Rose flipped through the book rapidly.
“Like here,” she pointed to a spot and slid the heavy tome towards the brothers. “The Draco constellation, his father. You know that uncle Sirius is his cousin, right? Well, 1st cousin once removed. That's why he has a weird name. It's after Sirius, the brightest star in the dog constellation.”
It all clicked then. The conversations Albus had ignored. Sirius’s refusal to bring up his family, insisting that they were the only family he needed aside from Uncle Remus. Or Moony, as they fondly referred to him. Sirius was Padfoot, both for his love of dogs and now, apparently, his starry namesake.
As if Rose could see the gears turning in Albus’s head, she shut the book with a finality. “Get it now?” She asked, even though she clearly knew the answer.
“Yes” Albus huffed, remembering why humans Rose didn't spend time together any more.
“That's very interesting,” James supplied, easing the mounting tension in the room. “I didn't know that either. Maybe I should try astronomy next year for my second elective.”
“Also,” he continued, revealing a deck of cards from his hoodie pocket. “I don't have much homework, so how about a game of UNO for old times sake?” He wiggled the deck exaggeratedly. “ It'd be ffffuuuuunnnn. ”
“Okay,” Albus relented.
Rose nodded her head in agreement. “But only one game.” She countered, eyeing James warily.
“Sure thing, Lil cousin.” He winked.
Rose scoffed and prickled up like a porcupine, but deflated as she begrudgingly picked up the cards to her favourite childhood game. Albus did the same and it was game on.
It was an intense match. Rose was ruthless, throwing down plus fours and twos at every opportunity. But Albus prevailed, halfway through the game he was able to reverse the direction so that all of Rose's onslaught were directed at James. He stayed under the radar, putting down every turn until his time came.
“UNO!” He called, slapping his second to last card down with a forceful smack.
“What!” Rose shrieked, standing up and slamming her fists onto the oak surface, and drew a card. “You cheater, James, do something.”
James shuffled through his mountain of cards. He placed a blue seven on top of the yellow and eyed his brother nervously.
“Checkmate.” Albus smirked, revealing his wild card.
Rose glared and James laughed jovially. “Nice one Al.”
“Yeah,” Rose echoed, “Nice.”
“Another?” James inquired, collecting the cards back up into a stack.
“Sure” Albus agreed.
Rose was more hesitant. She bit her lip, eyes drifting towards her schoolwork. James began to deal. She gingerly swept the papers into her bag and gave a small smile.
“I'm coming for you Albus” she taunted, picking up her hand.
“Game on” He challenged.
***
Scorpius was having an absolutely horrendous time in ‘tutoring’. Dr. Abbott, (or Hannah as she had introduced herself in their first meeting) was amiable enough. She often smiled, asked about Scorpius’s interests, and laughed at her own jokes. But, some days it was just too much.
That included this particular afternoon. Scorpius was away in some abandoned, dingy classroom with a laptop for their meeting. Dr. Abbott let out another bubbly laugh as she told some funny story from her week. The therapist liked to do that. Scorpius figured that it was meant to make her seem more approachable, which, to be fair, it really did.
“Now, how about you Scorpius?” she asked
Scorpius flinched, he really hadn’t been paying much attention at all, and it clearly showed. “What?” He asked dumbly.
The woman just smiled. “Your week, I asked how your week was, Scorpius. ”
“It was good,” He nodded his head in affirmation. “ Yes, it was very good ”
“I’m really glad to hear that, Scorpius.” she smiled warmly. Her voice was smooth and comforting, like milk and honey. If that made any sense. “How is your roommate? I recall that being a new thing for you.”
Scorpius felt himself beam at the thought. Albus really was great, a bit sarcastic and grumpy sometimes, but also funny and always willing to lend a hand or a listening ear.
“He is fine.” He replied.
The blonde didn't want to start talking in fear that he would never stop. Also, in a weird way, Albus was his roommate, not Dr. Abbott’s and telling her about their little paint escapade would make it feel too common. Not like the incredible night that it was.
Dr. Abbott seemed to sense his reluctance and didn't press it any further. Instead, she did what therapists do best, redirect the conversation.
“That's fantastic, I'm glad that aspect of Hogwarts has been going well for you. Has there been any more problems as of late? I know that last time we met you were really struggling with panic attacks and self worth in general. Have the breathing exercises I taught you helped at all?”
Scorpius knew the answer. No, he thought to himself. The panic attacks have not stopped and yes the exercises worked somewhat, when he remembered to use them.
Still, it had been worse over the past week or so. Why couldn't he just be better? He had the medication, he had the therapist, he even had friends now. Why should he still be struggling?
Shame and inadequacy poured over him, freezing him to the spot. His brain was sufficiently unable to process anything but the feeling.
Scorpius let his head fall into his hands and focused his gaze from the screen onto the plush carpet beneath his feet. It was undeniably quite old. The fibers had started to fray and the once vibrant color had begun to dull. It was still a breathtaking pattern of red and gold. In the center lay an imposing lion with twirling starbursts of gold radiating off of it. The border rested directly at Scorpius’s feet. It was composed of the same red and gold in a swirling rope like design with tassels completely bordering the carpet.
“Scorpius?” Dr Abbott’s voice rang out in her typical friendly demeanor, with a barely perceivable hint of annoyance and possibly, frustration.
“I'm sorry.” He choked out. “I just remembered and it happened. I-I tried but I couldn't stop it and- and” he was crying now. The tears spilled involuntarily down his cheeks. “I failed…” he whispered.
After everything they'd done for him he had failed. Nothing, not even a new environment could hold back the flood of memories that drowned him. His father had worked so hard to get him a spot at this school. They didn't normally accept students in the middle of the year, or even past the initial enrollment in year 7.
“No!” Dr. Abbott asserted. “That is the most untrue thing that I've heard. Don't listen to that voice in your head Scorpius. It is lying to you. Your feelings are valid. It is perfectly understandable for you to be struggling. You went through a traumatic experience and no one expects you to be perfectly fine. Panic attacks and flashbacks are expected. In fact,it would be concerning if you didn't have them. What's important is that you use your skills and not close yourself off. That's what I meant when I said that I thought we were done with this. I know, and I think you know that therapy will be completely ineffective if you close yourself off like that.” She finished, a slight pant in her breathing from how fast she'd talked.
“Oh,” he replied dumbly.
“Yes, now let's try that again. Scorpius, how are you doing with your panic attacks and coping skills this past week?”
The blonde took a deep breath, grounding himself with the feeling of polished wood beneath him before starting again. “The past week has been okay. I've had a couple panic attacks. The coping skills have worked okay… when I remember to use them.”
“I see.” His therapist nodded, thoughtful. “Perhaps a more… physical grounding skill could be more effective. I have several other clients that find an ice pack to be particularly effective.”
“I don't…” Scorpius started. Doubt creeping into his mind. Where would he even get an ice pack? More importantly, how would he use an ice pack as a coping skill without humiliating himself and alerting the whole school to his pathetic mental issues and tragic past. He'd really prefer internal coping skills. At least then he could pretend to contain a semblance of normalcy.
“Want people to see you using grounding techniques?” She finished for him, stating it as a question. Although she clearly already knew the answer. It was awfully creepy how she could get into his head like that.
Scorpius paused, then nodded his head reluctantly in affirmation.
“Well, there really is nothing to be ashamed of. I'm sure plenty of your classmates utilize grounding techniques, whether consciously or not. Music, deep breathing, ice packs, they all work. It's just based on the person. I am suggesting the ice pack because I've seen that it is particularly effective for grounding when it comes to flashbacks and panic attacks.”
“Okay.”
Dr.Abbott sighed, changing the topic. “How about break? Are you excited to have some time at home with your father?”
Scorpius tightened his lips, wincing internally. What was everyone's fixation with break? He really didn't want to go home. The house was far too quiet, even for him. The empty halls seemed to swallow him. There wasn't even the bustle of the housekeepers anymore. His father had sent them away, to “avoid rumors and gossip”.
Privately he suspected that they reminded his father of his mother. Specifically Cassandra. She had the same long dark hair sprinkled with strands of silver.
“What are you thinking about Scorpius?” His therapist asks, ripping him from his thoughts.
“My dad.” He replied, surprising both himself and his therapist as she fumbled, taking a moment to respond, rather than her usual silky voice and even smoother subject changes.
“I see, what has been going on with your father?”
“I… he just seems… off” Scorpius said, “ I… I don't know… just… just forget it.”
Dr Abbott hummed in understanding, not pushing the subject. A faint timer began to ring on her side of the screen.
“Unfortunately we are out of time,” she said “ We'll check in next week. Please try those grounding techniques we discussed.”
And with a smile and wave she was gone, leaving scorpius alone with nothing but a black screen and his thoughts.