Henrietta Potter And The Slytherin Child - (A 'Henrietta Potter' sequel) || D.M

17 - The School Run

Kings Cross was utterly manic.

I grunted crossly as an oblivious commuter nearly sent Albus's luggage flying; too busy looking at their phone to bother watching where they were going.

"Prick," I muttered under my breath as Albus and I got in position to make a run for the barrier.

Platform nine and three quarters was no better, except that we also had to contend with the billowing steam making it difficult to see fucking anything.

I squinted around, looking for a sign of Ron or Hermione.

"Look - there's Scorp!" Albus said, sounding happier than I had heard him in a long while. It had been a month since Scorpius's summer visit had come to an end, and Albus had barely said a word to me since, seeming to hate me for simply existing.

And now, standing at the station, I watched as my son went running off to greet his friend, leaving me to deal with all his luggage.

Sighing, I staggered towards the impressive scarlet train, dragging Albus's heavy trunk in one hand and carrying his owl cage awkwardly in the other.

"You know, you should really get your son to help you with that," a drawling voice spoke from behind me, the trunk suddenly felt lighter as a hand reached out and lifted it up at the other end.

I looked over my shoulder meeting a pair of silver grey eyes.

"Well he would, but he's off putting the world to rights with your son instead."

Draco chuckled softly as, together, we hauled Albus's heavy trunk onto the train.

"How is he these days?" Draco asked, and I knew what he meant. Is he still a moody little shit?

I shrugged, sighing as I stepped back down onto the platform. "No change. Still thinks I'm the enemy."

"Perhaps this year'll be different?" He suggested unhelpfully, running a hand thoughtfully along the line of stubble against his chin.

That was strange, Draco was usually so immaculately turned out and clean cut. I took in his features carefully and noticed how sunken his eyes were and tired his skin looked. The last time I saw him like this was during the war.

"How is she?" I asked gently. I could only guess that Astoria's illness had something to do with his fatigued appearance.

His eyes met mine and he shook his head ever so slightly. He looked absolutely pained and I found I had to look away so he would not see the pity on my face.

"I was in two minds whether to send him back this year," he said quietly. "I'm worried she won't be there when he returns home."

"Oh, Draco," I breathed. Poor Scorpius. Poor, poor Scorp. My heart bled for him.

Draco's throat gave a prominent bob as he swallowed. "And there's the rumours."

Oh, not the sodding rumours again.

"Draco," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I thought carefully as to how to word this, "you've got to let it go. People will gossip about it only until the next rumour comes along. And he has Albus, remember?"

We both looked over to where our sons were standing, talking animatedly to one another, no doubt filling in how the rest of their summer went.

"Don't torture yourself, Draco," I added as we started to amble slowly side by side towards the boys.

"He had a great time at yours over the summer," Draco said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "He thinks the sun shines out of your backside, you know."