harry potter scenarios

scorbus: hanahaki disease (pt5, finale)

week 5: 手紙 - letters
(large trigger warning: mentions of blood and death)
Throughout the christmas break, Scorpius and Albus sent many owls to each other as a form of company; in order to keep them both sane in sometimes suffocating households. Albus noticed that Scorpius didn't bring up the disease at all, which bothered him, but he let the matter slide. Maybe confronting him at school was a better option.
On Christmas Eve, Albus decided to sneak into the Malfoy house and surprise Scorpius with his present, an event that happened often.
Heart buzzing excitedly and a grin tugging at his mouth, he climbed through Scorpius' open window. He was then about to scream and hopefully give Scorpius a good scare, until the scene in front of him made him lurch; smile dropping from his face in surprise.
It seemed he was the one who had been tricked.

His heart lodged itself inside his throat. Head starting to spin in anxiety and tears threatening to fall, he forced himself to clamber into the cold room.

Dry blood and stained red roses covered the carpet that belonged to his dear soulmate. His beloved friend lay by Albus' feet, motionless and pale. Albus didn't register what he was seeing for a few seconds, standing and staring as the cold wind flowed the curtains behind him. Realisation kicked in and he stumbled away in shock, propping himself against the window frame, a choked sob finding its way into the open.

His throat closed up and he clawed at it for air; is this how Scorpius has felt in his final moments? A panicked desperation for oxygen as the wicked flowers had climbed their way up into his mouth?

Albus' ears rung as he cried and lurched forward again, falling to his knees and beating the ground in some frantic and dazed attempt to punish the carpet for soaking up Scorpius' blood, his own tears falling to darken the crimson even more.

What a wonderful  Christmas Eve. Here he was, kneeling by the side of his friend, holding the Christmas present that could never be delivered.

He climbed into Scorpius' unmade bed and sobbed quietly, clutching his heart and bringing his knees up close. Why did Scorpius never tell him about his condition? Why did he leave without saying anything?Why did he even leave?

I can't do this on my own, Scor.

Albus curled up into the duvet, trying to inhale more as his best friend's scent filled his lungs, but was stopped by his own crying. Moving his hand to cradle the pillow, he stopped as he felt paper. Quickly lifting the pillow, he gasped and hung his head in troubled relief.

It was a letter; addressed to him.

自由 - freedom
"I knew you'd find this, you nosy boy. Only you would have the guts to lay in a dead person's bed. Well, I'm presumably dead, if you're reading this. Sorry.

There's a lot I want to say to you, but I never ended up getting the chance to open up much so I'm leaving this here. I think if you opened this, you probably have a million thoughts running through your head that you don't know how to filter through. It's okay, you're okay. One day you will be ready to start saying goodbye, even if it sounds like a long time away right now.

You never asked me why I love the snow so much. I might as well tell you now. I like it because the cold makes me numb. Numb on the outside, but also on the inside. It provides an escape, I guess. From the horrors of the world. I also think it looks cool but that wouldn't be as meaningful now would it?

Anyway. On a real note (no pun intended) don't blame yourself for what's happened. It's easy to put the brunt of the pain onto yourself; that's the easy way out. I know you're already starting to do that, you're too selfless for your own good; I think that was one of the reasons I started falling for you. I wish I could hear you play the guitar in our dorm and fall in love with you all over again.
Accept that this was my doing. My choice. I didn't get the surgery, I didn't want to forget you. Selfish, I know.

What I've learned is that love is cruel. The world is cruel. Life is cruel. But love is also wonderful, a bliss, a delightful thing. Those few weeks that I got to experience it were some of the best. Yes, they were also the most painful, but they were the happiest of my life. I want to thank you for that.

Live the rest of your life for the both of us, Al.

I love you."

Albus closed his eyes and tried to embrace the empty hole carved into his heart. Grief was not as poetic as fiction made it out to be.