Working Through the Rest

Long After The Lullaby

When Scorpius starts to play, I forget the rest of the world. The music flutters from the piano, quiet and gentle, as Scorpius begins to sing. I stand and listen, in awe of every part of it. He seems so in tune with the music, and every word that he sings dives in and out of the piano, almost like a dolphin.

The sound soars through the room, echoing off every nook and cranny it can find. It's beyond any beauty I've ever heard, and I am determined to never forget it. To never forget the sight and sound of Scorpius and a piano.

When the song finishes, the music fades and I sit beside him on the stool. He looks at me, eyes full of tears, and I place a hand on his shoulder. He leans into me, breathing shakily.
"That was beautiful," I murmur. "Thank you for showing me."
"It's fine," Scorpius mumbles. "I – I haven't played for years. Not since mum – not since she died."
"It was amazing," I try to assure him; I'm not sure what else I can say.
"Could we do something?" Scorpius asks quietly.
"Of course," I nod.

Scorpius stands up and I follow him out into the corridor. He walks down a few passages, and I go with him, not questioning. He stops outside a dark door covered in ornate carvings, and knocks. Draco's voice echoes from within to invite us inside, and Scorpius opens the door.

Where I expect to find an office, we instead walk into a large room stacked full of boxes. Draco is walking between them, writing things on some of the boxes. He stops as we enter.
"Are you okay?"
"Could we have some flowers?" Scorpius says quietly. "I wanted to take Albus down to the swing."
"Of course," Draco's eyes fill with understanding as he nods.

He waves his wand and a bouquet of dark roses appear in his hands. Scorpius takes them, mumbling a thank you, and then he goes to leave. Once we're out in the corridor, I stop him.
"Are you okay?" I ask quietly. "Scorpius, are you okay?"
"I haven't been down to the swing in nearly three years," Scorpius mumbles. "I'm – I'm just a bit nervous."

Nearly three years. Third year. His mum. Oh.

"I'm here," I say, hoping it can bring some comfort. "I'm here for you. It'll be okay."

Sometimes, I loathe myself for the sheer number of false promises I make him, make myself. But it feels like the only thing I can do. I don't know what to say that could make any of it better. And it doesn't feel like sympathy is enough, but it's all I can give.

He nods and we start to walk again, ending up in the room that I can only assume is the entrance. It is, like most things here, an unnecessarily grand left-over of the when the 'pure blood' families thought higher of themselves. I don't say anything. It isn't worth concentrating on. I'm slightly annoyed that my mind even went to it as a thought.

Scorpius opens the door and we walk out into the morning sunshine. I stop to look around but Scorpius keeps moving, almost breaking into a run as he trots down the steps. I run after him, not trying to stop him, and we run down the lawn until we're both panting loudly.

He doesn't stop moving, however, leading me towards a group of trees that could probably qualify as a small woodland. Just in view, I can see a small tree with a rope swing hanging from its branches.

Scorpius stops a few feet from it, swaying slightly on the spot. I place a hand on his arm and he looks at me, tears swimming in his eyes.
"Help me?"
"Of course," I nod.

Together, we walk the last few steps to the tree, and Scorpius kneels down to place the roses down. He doesn't move after that, simply staring at the bark. I kneel beside him, taking his hand gently.
"I should come here more often," he murmurs. "But I won't. And the flowers will be gone. And I...I don't know why that is the only thing I can concentrate on."
"It's okay," I promise. "Can I take one?"
"For what?"
"To plant it," I smile softly. "If you want to."
"Please," Scorpius nods.

I roll up my sleeves and start to make a hole in the ground. It's bigger than entirely necessary, but it needs to be reasonably deep and I'm doing it by hand. Once that is done, Scorpius passes me the rose that he's been holding, and I place it in the ground, filling in the hole again.
"Thank you," Scorpius whispers. "Thank you for this."
"It's fine," I say softly. "She'd be proud of you."
"We used to come down here for picnics," Scorpius glances around. "After mum got really ill, dad and I would bake, and then we'd all come and spend the afternoon down here – enjoying ourselves. I think – I think – I tried to pretend that everything was okay."

There is a silence as I reach for something to say, but Scorpius stands up. He leans on the swing and I stand up, going to him. He looks to me, and then down at the swing. I nod and he sits down, leaning back into me as I wrap my arms around him.

And for a few beautiful moments, everything is okay. It's quiet. The only sounds are of the world. I'm with the person I care about most in the world. The sky is blue. The world is quiet.

For a few moments, everything is okay. Vaguely okay.