The Inevitable Fate

Chapter Three: The Unwanted Guest

"Don't cry, Scorpius," Rose said gently, her amber hair was pulled back to the side in one braid, knotted with an azure ribbon. Her nails were painted a captivating golden colour, clearly Gryffindor pride, which glistened noticeably in the dark shadows of the corridor just as her fingers eased into his light blonde hair for comfort. Scorpius was lying in her arms, his solemn head rested on her lap as she continued to stroke the threads of his muddled hair with evident care. His sobs came out exasperated, as if breathing was suddenly a difficult task that he knew nothing about. "It wasn't real, Scorpius. It wasn't real. Shhhh. It's okay. It's alright. I'm here. I am right here."

Albus felt himself green with envy. During moments of distress, Scorpius would turn to him for comfort—not Rose. Rose was the last person Scorpius would cry in front of. At least, that's what Albus thought. He thought Scorpius only allowed himself to be vulnerable around people he trusted, people he cared about most. But clearly, that rule has been breached. Clearly, he had been replaced. With a great sigh of defeat, Albus turned the other way and marched over to the Slytherin Dormitory, bitterly lost and hopelessly confused in his own conflicting thoughts.

*

"Say it, fool."

"I won't. I won't do it."

"You know you want to. What's the use, pretending to be good? Pretending that you don't want to crawl back into that hole, into the dark side. You know the spell. You've heard it in your worst nightmares, hinged in your cloudiest reality."

"Kill him."

No.

"KILL HIM!"

NO!

"Then I will. Avada Ked—"

NO! I will.

Albus straightened his posture, looking around the unfamiliar atmosphere carefully, refusing to make eye contact with the chilling Hooded Figure that stood in front of him.

The prison was filled with rats the size of bowling balls and reeked of filth mixed with burning betrayal. Inside the jail felt ominous for it was perilously cold, nearly enough to rip his fingers out. That could only mean that the Dementors were nearby. It was a disgusting, frayed cell that Albus and the Hooded Figure were stuck in. He watched Scorpius scuffle wildly, bounded by invisible ropes that were sharp enough to leave a devastating imprint. Scorpius squirmed away from Albus, as if he were afraid of him. Afraid of what Albus could do, afraid of what he was seemingly capable of.

Albus lowered his wand with great disbelief, feeling his heart sink at Scorpius' surprising shudder. "I'm not going to hurt you, Scorp. Come on. Look...look at me."

Albus, wake up.

But Scorpius quickly turned away from him, shutting his eyes, inaudibly crying; his lips were viciously taped shut.

Albus.

Unsettled ribbons of uncontrollable fury filled Albus' aching lungs. Suddenly, he couldn't see his best friend when he looked at Scorpius. All he could see, all he could taste in the beads of Scorpius' silent stare, was a stinging stranger. Someone who didn't matter. A spare.

He raised his wand by Scorpius' heart; there was no hesitation, no mercy, no hint of remorse.

"Avada Kedavra!"

NOOOOOOO!

Quickly, Albus awoke, jolted with indescribable terror. He blinked several times, feeling utterly feverish, his heavy head cranking up at Scorpius, who came out of nowhere, glued by his side, nearly tripping over his own feet. Albus quickly wiped away his tears and drew away from his penetrating gaze.