Lovely (a Scorbus story)

Part 29

February 17th dawned bright and sunny, a Saturday morning with nothing to do except stress about the task.

Even though it wasn't even his task. It was Albus's task. And Max's. No, what Scorpius was more stressed about was the Augurey.

He'd found out from Max that her cover had been blown last night, and sure enough, whispers flew around the hall as copies of the Daily Prophet were passed around.

"Oh, no," Albus breathed. "Well, at least it'll be ten times more difficult for her to get you if she's an escaped convict."

"Albus—" Hysterical panic rose in Scorpius.

"Scorpius. It's okay. It's fine."

Albus looked mildly worried, but he didn't seem to be stressed. Scorpius took a breath, calming himself.

"Okay. Okay." Scorpius exhaled. "The task. Are you ready for the task?"

"Yes," Albus said unconvincingly. "Uh...I'll figure something out."

Scorpius read his face. "Look, if you're aiming to do this as well as your dad, remember he had a ridiculous amount of help because some sicko needed him to win. Nobody needs you to win, Albus, so you're going to struggle a bit, but you have a fighting chance, just like everyone else."

At that moment, Max stalked dramatically into the Great Hall and threw herself down—also dramatically—next to Scorpius.

"UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

"Good morning to you too, Max," Albus replied calmly, taking a bite of oatmeal. "Something bothering you?"

"Oh, nothing, just the second fucking task," Max snapped.

"Language," Ian sang from three seats away.

"It's not, like...that time of the..." Scorpius trailed off as Max trained a murderous look on him.

"Say that one more time and I'll make sure that you wake up in a pool of your own blood."

Albus snickered. Scorpius tried to look busy rearranging his eggs on his plate.

Emma dropped into a seat next to Albus. "Morning, Albus. Scorpius. Max. What'd I miss?"

"Boys," Max grumbled.

Emma narrowed her eyes. "What's got your shingles in a pringle?"

Scorpius allowed a grin to flicker across his face for half a second before he shut it down.

Max threw her hands up. "Can none of you read a calendar? It's this small thing called the goddamn second task. I'm stressed. STRESSED."

"We get it, Max," Polly called from four seats away.

Max rolled her eyes.

"It's okay, Max, you'll kick my butt, anyway," Albus said. Lowering his voice, he added, "Who's your person?"

"My sister, Avalyn," Max said. "I thought for sure Scorpius would be yours."

"Yeah," Albus said. "I thought so, too."

"What about Aurélie?"

Max shrugged. "She doesn't tell me stuff like that."

They were silent for a moment, until a redheaded figure strolled up to the table and plunked down next to Albus.

"Hey, Ro—"

"Did you see the Prophet?"

"Of course I saw the Prophet, everyone with eyes has seen the Prophet."

"I'm serious, Albus. This is really bad. Catastrophically bad." Rose's eyes were huge.

"I know," Albus said crossly.

"She's going to be out to get Uncle Harry!"

"Of course she is."

"Or get another—another Time-Turner!"

"Yup."

"Why aren't you upset?"

"Because losing my head doesn't help Dad."

Rose looked about to blow her top. "Albus Severus—"

"Chill," Scorpius said mildly.

Rose glared at him. "Don't you care?"

"More than you can imagine," Albus said stiffly to his plate. "Can you leave, Rose?"

Huffing, Rose stood up and stalked back to the Gryffindor table.

"You okay?"

Albus's face was blank. "Fine."

Yeah, right.

"Come on, let's head back to the common room, get you ready for the second task."

Face still oddly expressionless, Albus stood up and followed Scorpius out of the Great Hall.

They were halfway to the common room when Albus finally spoke.

"I'm not ready for this, Scorpius."

"You'll be fine," Scorpius said, unsure of how to reassure him.

"No, I won't. But that's not what I mean. I'm not ready for the Wizarding world to fall apart again. I'm not ready for the return of the Augurey. I'm not ready for it to be up to us to save the bloody world again. I thought we were done."

Scorpius laughed without humor. "We're not going to be done, are you kidding?"

Albus looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Let's think. I'm still rumored to be the son of Voldemort. You're the son of Harry Potter—"

"Thanks for the reminder," Albus muttered darkly.

"—and we will never, ever be free of this plague!"

"Do you call being my friend a plague?" Albus said forcefully.

Scorpius's eyes widened. "What? No, Merlin, no. Friends...whatever we are, I wouldn't lose you for anything."

Albus's expression calmed. "Okay. Okay. I know what you're saying, I just...I refuse to believe my life is going the same way as my father's."

"I'd trade with you in an instant," Scorpius said bitterly.

"I know, Scorp. I'm sorry, I'm complaining that my father is the savior of the—"

"I get it," Scorpius said. "Father-son issues. Throwing away the whole Voldemort/Harry Potter thing, I understand, okay?"

He felt kind of bad for yelling at Albus, especially today, when they both needed to be strong.

"Let's just forget this conversation," Albus said. "I need to focus on the task. You need to focus on...staying alive."

"Do I?"

Albus snapped his head towards Scorpius so fast, Scorpius was surprised his neck didn't crick.

"Yeah, you do, you understand?"

Despite everything, Scorpius smiled, thinking at least there was one person he could count on, no matter what. "Just focus on the task, okay?"

Albus grinned.

"I got this."