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

26 - The Widow

"So, it was a success, then?"

I carefully placed down my fork, nodding. I had just finished telling Ron and Hermione about my impromptu trip to Hogwarts over a cup of tea and a slice of cake in the coffee shop opposite the Ministry.

"The Marauders Map and the Invisibility Cloak helped though," I grinned, winking wickedly at Ron, the memory of Albus's impressed reaction to my gifts resurfacing memories of our own crazy adventures.

"Well I'm sure it did," Hermione said, bristling haughtily, "seeing as you have now given him aids to help him cause more trouble."

"Yeah, but at least he won't get caught now," Ron shrugged, shovelling a forkful of carrot cake in his gob.

Hermione rolled her eyes derisively, tutting loudly.

"I just want him to be happy," I implored, looking meaningfully at Hermione, "like we were."

Hermione looked momentarily taken aback, and then, slowly lowering down her tea, she placed her hand on the back of mine. Smiling at this unexpected intimate gesture, I turned my hand over, clasping our fingers around one another.

"We were, weren't we," she smiled, her eyes twinkling as Ron, too placed a hand in each of ours, squeezing them both.

"We really were."

Multiple murders and mass killings aside, we couldn't deny; our time at Hogwarts was a hoot.

*****

The owls from Albus improved. I was getting them more frequently since his return to Slytherin with regular updates about his and Scorpius's adventures, and I was so happy that he felt he could share them with me.

I finally felt I was doing something right.

I had heard nothing from Draco since our impromptu office 'meeting'. True to his word, he'd stayed away from me, evidently concentrating on his dying wife instead.

And then, a week before Albus's second school year was about to end, I received an owl from him letting me know that Scorpius had been ordered home immediately.

"What do you think it means?" I asked Ron and Hermione, as we waited on the platform a week later, waiting for the Hogwarts Express to return our children home for the summer.

But even as Hermione exhaled a heavy meaningful sigh, deep down I knew. I just didn't know how I felt about it.

"Well," Ron said pragmatically. "I think it means it's not looking good for Astoria, is it?"

*****

"What's wrong, Al?" I asked as my son walked into the kitchen looking ashen faced and holding a piece of parchment in his hand.

It was the night before he was to return for his third year at Hogwarts - we had had a wonderful summer. It had just been the two of us, just like the old days. I had taken time off work to concentrate on my son fully, to spend time reconnecting with him. I even dusted off my old Firebolt and took it up the paddock to show Albus a few of my awesome flying skills. Although I know he would never have admitted it out loud, I could see he was seriously impressed.

And we had talked a lot; Albus even shared with me the fact that Scorpius was displaying a crush on Rose. That made me laugh - picturing Ron's face upon learning that his little girl was getting Malfoy'd. He'd be horrified.

I could tell Albus missed his friend though, but I was relieved when he had not pushed to see him. It was as though he understood that Scorpius needed to spend every last minute that his mother had left.

Which was just as well, I concluded, as Albus stood before me in the kitchen on the eve of Hogwarts day.

"Al?" I prompted, when he hadn't immediately answered me, but instead just looked at me with his mouth opening and closing, the parchment in his hand trembling as he lifted it up for me to see.

"She's dead." Albus whispered shakily, "Scorpius's mum is dead."

*****

The steam engulfed us as we stepped onto platform nine and three quarters, ready for Albus's third year at Hogwarts.

"There he is, Mum," Albus whispered, beckoning towards a small lonely figure sat forlornly on his trunk further up the platform.

My heart clenched, and I had to stop myself from going to him myself and offering the poor boy a much needed hug. But it would not have been right, or remotely appropriate. Not after what I'd done with his father.

"Go to him," I breathed, gently squeezing my son's shoulder, "be the friend he needs right now."

"But I don't know what to say to him, Mum," Albus replied, a touch of desperation making his voice quiver as he looked to me for guidance. "What if I end up upsetting him further? What if he cries?"

"Sadly, Al, I don't think it is possible that he could feel any worse right now," I said honestly, recalling how it was for me after I'd lost Sirius. "Just be there for him. And if he cries, then let him. Hug him, even."

Albus nodded, kissing my cheek before departing. I watched as he approached his best friend and enveloped him in a hug. I was so proud of my boy, my boy who had such a beautiful heart and was by no means 'damaged'.

I hoped Draco was witnessing this.

And, just as this thought entered my head, the white-blond haired former Slytherin stepped into view, grey eyes finding mine almost immediately.

A small gasp escaped my lips. Draco looked, well - broken. His whole body appeared to sag defeatedly. Black shadows occupied the space beneath his eyes, face pale and gaunt, and his expression looked worn, as though he hadn't smiled in a long time.

I was shocked to find that my anger towards him had completely evaporated, replaced instead by a great wave of pity. I wanted to go to him, to go to him like my son had gone to Scorpius; to offer unconditional comfort and support.

But as I went to take a tentative step towards him, a hand caught my elbow, halting me.

"Etta, don't," Hermione said firmly. "He's just lost his wife."

I looked back at her, shame making my face crumple. "I just want to help him." I whispered.

But the look in her eye told me she knew that I knew why that wasn't a good idea. The damn woman knew too much, I thought bitterly, glancing back regretfully towards Draco.

His eyes were still fixed upon me, staring through the droves of people and billowing smoke separating us, his expression unreadable.

Hermione was right, I thought sadly. Now was definitely not the time.

Not for us.

*****