How about I punch you in the face? Albus wanted to reply. Was this really the time? He didn't care about facing his Boggart. All he cared about was Scorpius—who was paralyzed in terror, sobbing all alone in the dangerous halls of Hogwarts.
Albus turned his head to the Boggart, which hummed into a singsong voice, a chilling tune that was hauntingly familiar.
The gaunt witch standing before him had deathly spectral skin and attractively flowing silver hair spotted with blue tips at the very ends. Her long, silky hair poured over her chest, her smile as terrifying as her eagle shaped eyes and electric blue pupils. She was dressed in a pink blouse with grey lace at the front, illuminating just a hint of her bony collar. Her nails were painted a corcuscating lavender colour, matching quite well with her black dress pants.
"Albus Severus," Delphi breathed. "You don't really fear me, do you?"
Albus raised his wand at her, detecting no horror at all, for all he felt was rage. Rage at what had happened to Scorpius and his Mum, indignation that his Boggart turned into Voldemort's doleful daughter who killed without mercy, wrath that, after a year of not thinking about her, she suddenly showed up in the shape of a Boggart.
"You're not real." Albus remembered. His teeth were clenched as badly as his fists. "Are you?"
"I'm real to you." Delphi's red lips pursed into a smile as she drummed her long fingers by her abdomen, humming quietly. "And you know it."
"I'm not scared of you, Delphi," Albus said, shaking his head. "Think this Boggart is confused about me nearly just as much as I am. It just proves that some people just aren't afraid." He shrugged, raising his wand. "Riddi—"
"Scorpius!" Delphi suddenly interrupted as she rolled her head up and down, cracking a few bones as she did such an obscure pattern, "That's what your fear is. When you see me, all you can see, all you can picture, is me torturing him. That is your greatest fear...that I will torture him again. Your fear is that memory of me hurting him...that while I used Crucio on him—oh what fun was that you just stood there and watched...just as powerless and pathetic as your Father."
"At least I have a Father!" Albus shot back.
"I do, too."
"But mine wants me." Albus' mouth twitched into a manipulative smirk. "Yours...yours wants nothing to do with you. He left you in that orphanage to die—your Mum, too." He elevated his wand again, his eyebrows travelling further and further up his crinkled forehead as he watched Delphi's exasperated expression. He sneered at her triumphantly, knowing that he got to her. She looked like she was thinking of words to say, words that would somehow shatter him, but was rendered speechless. "Stay away from Scorpius," Albus warned, glaring at her with purest hatred. He was fuming, singed with so much unhappiness and resentment that he would have no problem, at this very moment, committing murder. "Riddikulus!"
Delphi melted onto the floor, changing into a wind-up toy monkey, slamming its golden cymbals together with a crashing sound. The class roared with laughter, pointing at the toy. Albus didn't. He couldn't. He couldn't laugh, for all he could think about was Delphi torturing Scorpius.
Albus gathered his belongings and stuffed Scorpius' intimidating pile of textbooks carelessly in his bag, slinging his heavy backpack on his broad shoulders, determined to find his friend after such a disastrous event.
Albus bolted out the door and made his way through the echoing hallways and hallow corridors. Then, he heard an agonizing choking sob. It was unmistakably Scorpius. Without hesitation, he stalked over to him, ready to hug him with opened arms when he heard another voice—a girl's voice.
"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.
"Stay away from me," Albus grumbled irascibly, taking his closed palms, and hurriedly rubbing his eyelashes, which were prickled with fresh tears, hoping this would go unnoticed. "Just don't, okay?"
"Albus, what is it?" Scorpius whispered, his grey eyes shrinking, the light nearly lost, replaced by unmistakable misery. He got on his tippy toes, pulling Albus into a long hug, his slinky arms wrapped passionately around his neck. He was so close that Albus could feel the rise and fall of his breath, a quiet lullaby. "Talk to me, Albus. Please."
"No!" Albus wheeled away from Scorpius, whose face looked as though he were about to cry. But he didn't understand. Albus wasn't pushing Scorpius away because he didn't like him. He needed him. But, what he wanted, more than anything, was to keep Scorpius safe, and in the nightmare, it looked like Scorpius was in severe peril. And by the looks of it, it appeared Albus was responsible. Albus wiped the sweat from his forehead. "I-I'm dangerous. And you...you're precious. You're the most important person in the world. I don't want you to get hurt. Scorp, I...I love—"
Rose stepped out from behind the Slytherin sofa. Her face was draped with concern. "Albus, what's wrong?" She searched for his eyes, but he wouldn't meet her gaze. Albus' face dimmed at the sight of her, whose hands, he realized, were awfully close to Scorpius'.
Rose ignored her cousin's animosity and carried on, panic drawn on her face. "Was it a nightmare? You know what your Dad said about having nightmares...they always hold a deeper meaning. If it was really bad, you've got to tell him!" She stomped her foot for exaggeration.
"What is she doing here?" Albus snapped, rumpling his disarrayed hair. His eyes were sharp, crossed with fuming anger. What was the point of hiding his detest towards her?
"I will not be spoken to in that tone, Albus," Rose replied, her voice as equally cold. She placed both of her hands on her hips, her chestnut eyes narrowing as she frowned at her cousin with unsaid rancour, her cheeks puffed into the same redness as her frizzled hair.
"C-can't you guys just get along?" Scorpius whispered uncomfortably, looking from Albus, to Rose, trying desperately to make eye contact with Albus. "Please?"
But Albus, who had no intention of looking at Scorpius, merely stared ahead at his cousin, trying to come up with something hurtful to say. All he could picture was Scorpius lying in her lap and what's worse is he let her. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It wasn't the way it was supposed to be.
"Gryffindors aren't allowed here," he said hotly, folding his arms across his rising chest. "Get out, Rose. Leave me alone."
Rose sighed loudly, craning her head towards Scorpius apologetically before walking towards her cousin until they were nose to nose. She stared at Albus as if she were trying to read his eyes, to study what secrets his irises were concealing from her and the rest of the world.
"Albus," Rose took a slow, vigilant breath, hoping there was some way to word what she was about to say with such delicacy that wouldn't set him off. His temper, she found, was stemmed no doubt, from his Father. Both were irrational and hot-heated, unbelievably so. Her voice dripped out with caution and apprehension. "Can't we give it a rest already? Can't we start over? I'd like us to be friends again. Like before."
"Before," Albus scoffed, her words tasted like blood. He ran his long fingers through his hirsute, midnight black hair. "Why? Just because you're dating my friend—my best friend—you want to suddenly patch things up? Pretend you weren't a complete arse? What did you think would happen? We would hug? Be a trio like our parents were?" He began pacing back and forth, clearly, unable to contain his bottled-up bile. "It'd be great fun too, watching you snog Scorpius—my Scorpius, all day! This wasn't the way it was supposed to be! I'm with Scorpius! I am his and he is mine! We don't need some girl coming in and ruining what we have!"
Rose turned around to face Scorpius, who turned bright pink at Albus' words, quickly plucking open his copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk, to bury his embarrassment. He pretended to be so fascinated by the contents of the page, when really, he could not bear to look at Rose, and he certainly could not meet Albus' eyes.
"Oh wow..." Scorpius gasped, keeping his finger on the page, eyebrows raised. "Look at this spell: Levicorpus! It says here: 'The spell, which was intended to be cast nonverbally but which can be spoken aloud, causes the victim to be hoisted into the air by their ankle; the counter-jinx for this spell is Liberacorpus.' Hmm I do think I have heard of this jinx, yes, I do." Scorpius continued, his eyes running through the pages, his face flustering pathetically. "Y-yes...S-Severus Snape invented this during his schooldays at Hogwarts." He looked up from the book for a moment, his face hot, smeared with discomfiture, "You were named after him, weren't you, Albus? And what a great man Snape was."
"Slick," Rose hissed beneath her breath, rolling her eyes, still facing her cousin, who stood in silence, fists scrunched.
Albus observed Rose's icy expression soften to his dislike and quickly carried on, spraying her with startling words, wondering why she has not exploded yet. "How amusing would it be having a crummy friend like you around, always poking her nose in our business—our lives! Always tagging along even though she isn't wanted. Well guess what, Rose? I'm not interested! You're too late! Years late!"
Rose touched his shoulder gently with a small nod, a silent understanding. She had tuned out everything her cousin was saying and focused on the meaning behind his fuming speech. She thought she knew what was going on, why he was so upset at her.
"Albus..." She said quietly, her auburn eyes glowing with empathy. "Listen to me..."
Albus glared at her with all the hate he could foster and pushed past her, ignoring Scorpius' desperate pleas as he darted out the door, full of determination and misery all at once.
He jogged up the moving staircases running faster and faster each passing second. This feeling...this feeling was unexplainable, it was torture, it brought rage and sorrow within his soul. The pain unbearable, so unbearable, Albus was sure, it would be enough to kill him, and for a minute, he hoped it would. What floor was he on now? The sixth? Seventh? He had absolutely no idea where he was going—he just knew he had to go anywhere where Rose was not. He needed to be alone. He hated being alone, yet he desired it.
It was moments like these when he truly questioned life. What purpose did life hold for him? Was he destined for something great like his Father? Was he supposed to have an ultimate showdown between a dark sorcerer, blurring the lines between good and evil? Or, when it came down to it, was he destined for nothing nearly as exciting, as adventurous as his Father? Perhaps Polly was right about him. He was worthless, disposable and a waste of space.
I need to get out of here. Albus thought to himself. I need to get out of here. Somewhere safe. Some place good. A safe place. A good place. Please. Please. Please.
The grey tiles that were webbed across the antique walls quavered at once, roaring stridently across the deserted hallway. Albus looked up at the historic thatches, which miraculously transformed into a black metal door.
He shook his head incredulously, his mouth half-open. It couldn't be what he thought it was...could it? He took a chivalrous step forward and entered the dusky room, and for the first time, in a long time, he felt safe.
The cavity was bursting with advantageous artifacts. Albus rubbed his tired eyes and examined the extensive chamber with bewilderment. Lying across one of the many hammocks that were bounded all over the room like vines was an invisibility cloak. Perfect! There were enchanting tables of food—scrumptiously prepared—and a loo at the corner of the room, just in case. It was as if the chamber had read his mind, which only meant one thing: Albus discovered the Room of Requirement.