Harry Potter 1. Prologue

**The Good Son**

**Prologue**

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp and golden as the falling leaves, littering the streets as they fell from the slowly-baring trees, tousled along the ground by the light breeze.

The family strode across the busy road purposefully towards the bustling soot stained station, rife with fumes and the breath of dozens of pedestrians. Two large cages rattled on top of the heavy trolleys which were being pushed by the two young boys, the squawking of their inhabitants, a pair of owls, attracting dozens of mystified expressions. A little red haired girl trailed tearfully behind her brothers, clutching at her mother's arm and ignoring the gently reassurances of her father.

"It won't be long till you join them snitch," Harry told her comfortingly.

"Two years," sniffed Lily Luna Potter, "I want to go now."

Ginny smiled at the image, remembering her own childhood disappointment every time her own brothers had gone to Hogwarts, leaving her alone at home. She had been the same, longing to join them in the fabled halls of the best school in the world. But Lily was still nine, she still had her little girl for a couple more years, the house would be too quiet when all three of them were students. Ginny both looked forward too and dreaded the day when Lily would get her letter. The sound of her youngest son's voice snapped her out of her reverie, she shook her head in exasperation, it would seem that they had taken up their earlier argument with renewed vigour.

"I won't! I won't be in Slytherin!"

"James, stop irritating your brother," said Harry, a tad sharply.

"I only said he might be," grinned the eldest of her children, smirking at his younger brother. "There's nothing wrong with that, he might be in Slyth-"

James caught his father's stern gaze and fell silent. Harry Potter rarely got angry or short tempered, but in the past few days he had been incredibly short with the rest of his family. Ginny suspected that it might have been something to do with Albus' upcoming Sorting, her husband had been in the same foul mood up until James had sent a letter declaring that he had made Gryffindor in his first year. With a cocky look in his eye, James broke into a run, vanishing a moment later as he passed through the barrier.

"You'll write to me, won't you?" asked Albus quietly, taking advantage of his brothers momentary absence.

"Every day, if you want us to," said Ginny reassuringly.

"Not every day," said Albus quickly, "James says that most people only get letters at least twice a month."

"We wrote to him four times a week last year," said Harry, "You shouldn't believe everything your brother says about Hogwarts, he's too much like your Uncles Fred and George for his own good."

One after another, they passed through the barrier, emerging onto platform nine and three-quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that was steadily being belched by the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures were swarming through the mist, into which James had already disappeared. They could hear his voice though, regaling his friends with his summertime adventures.

"Where are they?" asked Albus anxiously, peering at the hazy incandescent silhouettes as they made their way down the platform.

"We'll find them," said Ginny, her eyes darting around as she sought out her brother and his wife.

Albus heard the detached voice of his Uncle Percy, discussing the latest regulations governing flying carpets with his daughter Molly II and was thankful for the excuse not to stop and say hello. It was not that he didn't love his uncle and cousins, but Uncle Percy was dreadfully boring and he much preferred his Uncle's George and Bill. He liked Uncle Charlie as well, but he was rarely home due to his new job as head of a Dragon Sanctuary in Romania.

"I think that's them Al," said Ginny suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the thick vapour, standing alongside the last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when the Potters had drawn right up alongside them.

"Hi," he said, sounding hugely relieved to find his favourite cousin and aunt.

Rose, who was already dressed in her new Hogwarts robed beamed at him before pulling him in for a tight hug, she looked remarkably unlike the rest of the family. Her hair was a sandy blonde, falling in loose curls down her back, her skin was rather pale, but she had her mother's chocolate brown eyes – even though they were flecked with silver. Aunt Hermione would always look uncomfortable when anyone pointed out how unlike a Weasley her daughter looked, and would hastily point out that her own mother, Jean Granger, was blonde and pale. And that her father had grey eyes.

"Harry," declared Uncle Ron in a warm voice, clapping a hand on his best friends shoulder. Albus noted that his uncle had put on rather more weight since the last time he had seen him, his uncle had been quite athletic in his younger days but had now gone slightly to seed. He had also begun losing his hair.

Meanwhile, Lily and Hugo were having an animated discussion as to which houses they would be sorted into when they finally got to Hogwarts in two years.

"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," said Ron, "but no pressure." Harry closed his eyes, before nodding in agreement with a thin smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"_Ron!"_

"_Harry!"_

Lily and Hugo laughed, but Albus looked solemn whilst Rose managed to pull off an expression of haughty indifference.

"I'm going to be a Ravenclaw dad," she said crossly, folding her arms and giving him a look that was eerily reminiscent of her mother.

"He doesn't mean it," laughed Ginny, but both men were no longer paying attention and Hermione seemed to have paled considerably as she noticed who they were staring at. The steam had thinned considerably and three people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist.

"Look who it is," sneered Ron.

Draco Malfoy was standing with his wife and son, a dark coat buttoned up to his throat despite the stifling heat of the platform. Despite being in his mid to late thirties he barely looked a day over twenty five. The boy beside him resembled him as much as Albus resembled Harry, something which had annoyed Albus to know end. He hated when strangers would look at him and begin weighing him against his father. Harry had saved the wizarding world when he was only seventeen years old, how was Albus supposed to compete with that. He wasn't James, who revelled in the attention . . . he was Al, and he hated the fame and unwanted attention.

Draco caught sight of them staring, nodding curtly and then letting his eyes fall on Rose. His eyes seemed to widen for a moment, as his gaze flitted between Hermione and her for a fraction of a second before he once more took on his expression of haughty indifference. Albus thought he was the only one who noticed it, but Aunt Hermione seemed to have a death grip on his shoulder so obviously she had too. He wondered what it was about.

"So that's little Scorpius," said Ron under his breath, "Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank god you inherited your mother's brains. God knows what would happen if you inherited your fathers."

"Ronald," snapped Hermione sharply, "Don't turn them against each other before they've started school."

"You're right dear," Ron said soothingly, "but don't get too friendly with him Rosie dear. Granddad Weasley will never forgive you for marrying a pure-blood."

"Hey Slytherin! Rosie-Poo!"

James had reappeared; divested of his trunk and owl and evidently bursting with news.

"Teddy's back there," he said breathlessly, pointing over his shoulder towards the train, "Guess what he's doing! Snogging Victoire! _Our Victoire_!"

He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by their lack of reaction.

"Our Teddy! My godbrother! Snogging my cousin! And I asked what they were doing –"

"You interrupted them," asked Ginny quizzically, "You are so like Ron."

"Oh I would so love for them to be married," declared Lily loudly and ecstatically, "Then Teddy would really be part of the family."

"He lives with us," said Harry shortly, "He has for the fast fourteen years, he is already family."

"It's nearly eleven," said Ginny quickly, seeing how close to snapping her husband was, "Quickly onto the train loves."

Ginny kissed both her sons goodbye, and warmly hugged her niece as James disappeared into the train, scrubbing at his cheek. Albus paused for a moment before hugging his father, softly asking the question that had been bugging him for weeks.

"What if I'm in Slytherin?"

The whisper was for his father alone, and Harry tensed at the question, his eyes hardening slightly before crouching beside his son, his own grudge against the House of Green and Silver momentarily forgotten when he realised his son's fear was genuine and sincere.

Albus' face was just slightly above his own as he kneeled in front of his son. Alone out of Harry's three children, Albus had inherited the emerald green eyes of Lily Evans.

"Albus Severus Potter," said quietly, so that only Ginny could hear, and she was tactful enough to engage Hermione in loud conversation whilst waving cheerily at Rose, who had by now found a compartment, "You were named for named for two of the greatest headmasters Hogwarts has ever known. One of them was a Slytherin and he was the bravest man I will ever know."

"But what if?"

"Then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student," Harry gritted his teeth as he spoke, "It doesn't matter to us," he lied, "But if it matters so much to you, choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Hat takes your choice into consideration."

"Really?" Albus asked, wide eyed and innocent.

"It did for me," said Harry.

He had never told any of his children that before, but now he saw the dawning wonder on his son's face when he said it. But now the doors where slamming, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming in for final goodbyes until Christmas, students were hurrying onto the train as a loud whistle filled the station and would a last fleeting look at his parents, Albus ran into the train as the wheels began to turn.

"He'll be all right," murmured Ginny as the train vanished around the corner.

"I hope so," said Harry quietly, before absently touching the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

The scar had not pained him in nineteen years. All was well.

At least for now.

(*)(*)(*)

"Why do you want to be a Ravenclaw so badly?" Albus asked Rose, the two of them walking down the train looking for an empty compartment.

"My dad put's all this pressure on us to be Gryffindors," she said honestly, "But it's not his life, I'd like to think I'm brave and heroic and such but I much prefer Ravenclaw wit to Gryffindor brawn. Dad needs to realise that the Gryffindors weren't they only house that bled in the war."

"You've given a lot of thought to this," said Albus with a raised eyebrow.

"My mother is Hermione remember," she laughed, "I over think everything."

"Why do you want to be a Gryffindor?" she asked.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "I guess dad and James both want me to be there and I just want to make them proud."

"That's so sweet snake," said James with a laugh, neither of them had realised they were walking passed the third-year Gryffindors compartment, "But you're going to be a Slytherin so stop getting your knickers in a twist."

"I'll be a Gryffindor," stammered Albus, "I will."

(*)(*)(*)

"Can we sit here, everywhere else is full," said Rose as they pushed their way into the last compartment on the train. Albus was still pale from his argument with his brother.

"You sure?" asked the pale, blond haired boy, "Not afraid to catch any death eater germs are you?"

"Why would we be scared of that?" snorted Rose as she plopped herself down on the train, "Voldy's been dead for nearly twenty years."

"Funny," scoffed the blonde boy, whom Albus recognised as Scorpius Malfoy – the boy uncle Ron had pointed out at the station, "You two are the first people who haven't turned up their noses and called me a death eater in training."

"That's not fair," said Albus, surprising himself, but this boy seemed to know exactly how he himself felt whenever people compared him to his father.

"I'm Rose Weasley by the way," interrupted Rose bossily, "This is my cousin Albus Potter."

"A Potter and a Weasley talking to me of all people," the boy whistled in surprise, "I'm Scorpius Malfoy."

"Like I said the war ended decades ago," continued Rose, "Why hold grudges for something that happened before we were even born."

(*)(*)(*)

"So you want to be a Ravenclaw to?" said Rose in surprise, "I would have thought you wanted to be a Slytherin."

"No," said Scorpius, "My whole family has been in Slytherin. I don't have anything against the House, but there's nothing left to achieve in Slytherin that someone before me hasn't already. If I'm a Ravenclaw, everything I achieve will be my own."

Albus thought about that for a long time, and the longer he pondered, the more sense it made.

(*)(*)(*)

"Avery, Xavier," called Professor Longbottom and a dark haired boy with a slightly pointed face scurried nervously up to the sorting hat. The hat barely touched his head before it shouted:

"SLYTHERIN!"

The sorting continued for a while before Albus perked his head up at the sound of the first familiar name he had heard since assembling in the front of the Great Hall.

"Longbottom, Frank."

Frank Longbottom grinned apprehensively as he made his way towards his father, winking at his older sister Alison who was sitting beside James at the Gryffindor table. His brother laughed when he caught Al's eye, and pointed at the Slytherin table with a smirk. The hat seemed to deliberate for a long time before shouting:

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Frank looked relieved, whilst his father and sister both smiled at the young round-faced boy who rushed to his new house table so quickly that he forgot to take off the Sorting Hat. His face bright red in embarrassment, he scurried back to hand it to his dad amidst gales of laughter. Even stern old Headmistress Mcgonagall, an old friend of the families, managed a light smile of appreciation.

"Malfoy, Scorpius."

The hat was a few centimetres from his head but it still shouted:

"Slytherin."

Scorpius looked rather disappointed as he ran off to the cheering table, taking a seat between Xavier and Elena Flint.

A few more names were called before one in particular caused the Hall to fall silent, so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop.

"Potter, Albus."

The hat was large and leathery as it settled on his head, slipping down over his eyes and obscuring the hall.

"Another Potter-Weasley," said the hat, it's papery voice echoing through his head, "But yet different than all those who came before you."

"Not Slytherin . . . Not Slytherin . . . Not Slytherin. . ."

"Not Slytherin eh? Your father was the same you know. But I still maintain that he would have been great in Slytherin. You on the other hand, bravery . . . power . . . intelligence . . . loyalty to those who are loyal to you. You are not your father; that much is certain. In Gryffindor, you can become a fair and powerful wizard, I can see it in your head . . . but in Slytherin, hmmm, you have the potential to eclipse your father and brother, and all those who have come before you."

Eclipse his father?

Albus took in the Great Hall, the expectant faces all waiting for the hat to scream out GRYFFINDOR, his brother's cocky smirk, his cousin's expectant expressions, the lonely look on Scorpius' face. He remembered his father's gritted teeth when Albus had asked about Slytherin, the man had tried to hide it but he had seen right through the facade. Scorpius and Rose had been right, it was his life, he shouldn't live it to please the people around him.

"Put me in the House you think best for me," said Albus in a hushed voice, yet it was loud enough that Neville fixed him with a strange look, "Put me where I can shine above the rest." Albus ignored the pointed look Neville was shooting at him, this was his choice.

"SLYTHERIN," shouted the hat.

Albus smiled as the hall filled with stunned mutterings, even Mcgonagall seemed thrown for a moment. Then the clapping from his new house filled the air, and Albus strode to join them.

Catching his brothers shocked expression; he decided that it was definitely his turn to give a cocky smirk and a sly wink.

The hat had been right; he would be great in Slytherin . . . he just never realised that even Voldemort had been great . . . terrible, insane but great.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: This is just a plot bunny that refused to leave my head so I spun it off. For now, the Prologue is all that's going to be up but I shall be updating weekly once my exams are completed. Now wish me well, I'm writing Mathematics tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 1

**The Good Son**

**Chapter One**

**Forgotten**

It had been two months since his Sorting and Albus found that he quite enjoyed Hogwarts and although it had taken a while, he finally found himself feeling at home in the large castle. He enjoyed his lessons, finding them both fascinating and enjoyable; with the exception of History of Magic and Herbology – History of Magic was the most boring subject that was known to man whilst Professor Longbottom favoured Gryffindor, treating the Slytherins as inferior students in every way. In his first Herbology lesson, Scorpius had lost his house five points because he had been gotten sick at the smell of dragon dung (Neville's favourite fertilizer).

He was also surprised to find that, contrary to popular belief, his fellow Slytherin's were no different from the rest of the student body. None of them seemed inherently evil, not even Vincent Goyle, a burly seventh year who was built like a boulder and possessed the intelligence of a rock to match. There were three other boys in his year, all of whom he got on remarkably well with considering his father had warned him against their names since the day he was bone.

Xavier Avery was as skinny as a rake, with hair as black as Albus'. The difference being however that Xavier's was sleek and straight, whilst Albus always managed to achieve a hairstyle that defied gravity without putting in any effort whatsoever. Xavier was not very talkative but he had an incredibly sarcastic sense of humour and could tear people to pieces with insults alone.

Delphin Zabini was an olive skinned boy with curly brown hair, he was quite a pervert to be honest, but the other boys found him to be incredibly amusing (although he sometimes overdid it). He also lived in terror of Professor Longbottom but was favoured by Professor Slughorn.

And lastly there was Scorpius Malfoy, whom he had met on the train. The blonde boy had quickly gotten over being placed in Slytherin and seemed determined to make the most of it. He more than made up for Albus' meek, passive personality with his exuberance and generally bold nature. He was also exceptionally intelligent.

Albus found that he was fast becoming close friends with the three boys, and the quartet were usually joined by Rose (who although had managed to become a Ravenclaw, found her fellow house-mates to be dreadfully boring and spent most of her time with Al and Scorpius) and Katherine Nott, who was more of a tomboy and despised spending time with her fellow girls.

Albus only wished his family would be as accepting of him as his friends were. In the first month of school he had sent five or more letters home every week and had received two in response. One from his mother telling him that it didn't matter that he had been made a Slytherin and that she still loved him, and a second later that month from his mother explaining that she couldn't write for the past month because she had been out of the country for the Prophet. He had yet to receive a letter from his father.

At first he had put it down to his father being too busy to respond, but after waiting six weeks and not receiving a reply to any of his letters whilst Hedwig II (Named for her heroic predecessor), his father's personal owl, continuously swoop over the Gryffindor table and drop of letters to his brother he came to the realisation that Harry simply didn't want to write to him. So he started addressing his letters to his mother solely and tried to bite back the pain that accompanied the morning post every morning. He and his father had always been close but he hadn't received a single letter from his dad ever since he had become a Slytherin. It stung.

The only letters he got from home where the weekly deliveries from Aunt Hermione, the regular letters from his mother and surprisingly enough, the random letter from Scorpius' dad who wanted to thank him for being so friendly to his son despite the bad blood between himself and Harry.

And then there was James. . .

James and Albus had always fought and bickered, but there had always been a degree of affection and brotherly love behind it. Despite James' tendency to annoy Albus within an inch of his sanity, he had idolized his older brother for much of his life. Then he had become a Slytherin and James seemed content to hex him whenever they passed each other in the corridors. Sometimes, he liked to think that he saw the flicker of concern in his brother's eyes when he, Albus doubled over because of a particularly nasty stinging hex but more often than not; he was becoming convinced that his brother simply didn't care anymore. It hurt Albus more than he would ever show, not physically, but emotionally because this was James. James who had always been his protective, annoying, lovable big brother – who had become his worst tormentor ever since Albus' tie had turned green.

The Christmas Holidays were coming up, it was already mid-November and the sign-up sheets had been pasted to the house notice boards. Albus decided to stay at Hogwarts, he really didn't want to have to go home and deal with James and his father. At least if he stayed at Hogwarts, he could pretend that his dad still cared about him.

(*)(*)(*)

"Al," Rose said, rushing up to him in the corridor with a crestfallen look on her face, "Why aren't you coming home for Christmas?"

"You really have to ask that," Albus said, tugging at his green and silver tie to emphasise his point.

"I know its hard Al but they must still be in shock, come home," Rose said, not believing her own words. She knew how judgemental her father could be, and over the years her Uncle Harry had become just as bad. Most of her cousins idolised James and when he started bullying Albus, many where content to turn a blind eye. Rose and Victoire (who was in her seventh year – and was the only one except Teddy to be older than James and Fred II) were furious at their behaviour but there was only so much they could do.

"I'm staying here," said Albus stubbornly, "Xav and Scorpius are staying as well, the three of us will have the whole common room to ourselves because everyone else is going home. It's going to be a lot of fun." Nine weeks had passed by and he hadn't received a single letter from his father, three of which he had not even bothered to write back. Sometimes he regretted choosing Slytherin, when he saw his family huddled together at the Gryffindor Table, when he noticed how awkward conversations with Roxy and Molly and Lucy had become.

It didn't matter, he would tell himself, Slytherin was his family now. His father had said that his house wouldn't matter, but it did; it hurt and stung that they seemed to have abandoned him so quickly. But he took his rage, and channelled it into his studies, because he wasn't living for them anymore . . . he was living for himself.


	3. Chapter 2

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Two**

**Christmas**

James walked through the train, eagerly searching for his brother's compartment to try to get in a few minutes of good natured teasing before they arrived home. It was always good natured, James would never purposefully set out to hurt somebody; let alone his own brother but lately he had been noticing a strange emotion in his brother's eyes whenever they met in the corridors. He didn't know what it was but that didn't stop him from pestering the little guy, that's how Albus and he had always been. Friends. Brothers. Best Mates. Even though they always fought and bickered; they always had each other's backs when either was against the wall. The only reason he would sometimes hex his baby brother was because it was expected of him, it was what Gryffindor expected in their members – to hex Slytherins. But Al was his brother, so he never cast any of the high level jinxes he was capable of and he always cast a numbing charm to take away the worst effects of the spell.

Finally he found the compartment in which sat his cousin Rose and a few of her friends. She looked different, over the months her hair had become lighter and her skin had paled. The flecks of chocolate in her eyes seemed to be slowly fading in favour of bright silver. He didn't think much of it; he assumed she had merely been learning beauty charms. Her friends were two Slytherins in the compartment with her, an olive youth whom James recognized as a Zabini and another girl with a pixie cut. It still startled him to see that his Ravenclaw cousin preferred the company of Slytherins to that of her own house but he had to admit that Rose and Albus had been close for years. Odd though, his brother wasn't in the compartment – maybe he was off to the loo; James decided to wait for him and catch up with his cousin.

"Where's Al?" he asked good-naturedly, running his hand through his dishevelled dark brown hair; when he had been younger his hair had been a deep brunette but over the years it had darkened till it was nearly black.

"At Hogwarts," said Rose acidly, "Can't blame him really."

"What do you mean?" said James, ignoring the snickers from the Slytherins.

"He doesn't want to come home because of you and Uncle Harry," said Rose, her voice still dripping venom. Honestly the girl should have been as Slytherin.

"What did dad and I do?" asked James dumbfounded, but there was an eerie doubt trickling into him.

"Maybe it's something to do with the fact that the great Harry Potter hasn't written to him all term," said the Zabini boy with a scowl on his face. Delphin Zabini was fiercely protective of the younger Potter and considered him one of his best mates, it rankled on his nerves how often he had heard Albus cry himself to sleep in the first few weeks of school.

"But Hedwigs been dropping off letters at least twice a week," said James, ignoring the jibe against his father.

"Hedwig had been dropping you letters," pointed out Rose, Aunt Ginny and Mum are the only two sending letters to Albus.

"But then what did I do? It's not my fault dad hasn't written him," there was a twinge of anger directed towards his father in that sentence.

"You're joking right," said the girl with the pixie-cut, "When your own _brother_ needed you the most, you started bullying him. Now can you get the hell out of our compartment, I'm trying to enjoy my pumpkin pasties and the sight of your self-righteous Gryffindor head is making me nauseas." Katherine Nott saw three of the Slytherin boys in her year as brothers, and had a not so secret crush on Xavier which negated any brotherly feelings for him. That meant that nobody messed with them; she had never had it easy – she was a Nott in a world where her name was worth mud and she wasn't a girly pure-blood like the other girls either – so when the boys readily welcomed her into their fold she had instantly become attached to them at the hip.

James opened and closed his mouth like a fish, aghast, before turning on his heel and walking back to his own compartment to say his goodbyes, Kings Cross was visible in the distance now.

He felt sick, he finally realised what that strange emotion in Al's eyes had been: Fear.

His baby brother was scared of him.

(*)(*)(*)

"I'm starving," groaned Scorpius, flopping dramatically over the leather couch so that his boots were on Xavier's lap and his head lay on Albus' knees.

"You're always starving," laughed Albus, grinning at his friend's dramatics.

"Can you blame him," said Xavier sarcastically, "Breakfast was only three hours ago."

"Exactly!" declared Scorpius, getting to his feet and grabbing both his friends' wrists to drag them behind him, "Three hours without food is three too many. Too the kitchens!"

"Does this worry you?" asked Xavier as they found themselves being tugged behind their overzealous friend.

"I grew up with the Weasleys," said Albus with an eye roll, "I'm used to dealing with their massive appetites. Every Christmas James would –" he fell silent, his eyes taking on the usual downcast expression that they always took whenever he would speak about his brother.

"Hey," said Xavier, in an oddly gentle voice, "It's his loss, not yours."

(*)(*)(*)

"Where's Albus?" asked Ginny, scanning the crowd for her youngest son, not noticing James shifting uncomfortably beside her.

"He's at Hogwarts," said Victoire, fixing her uncle with an icy glare that did not go unmissed by the rest of the family. Oddly enough, Teddy was shooting angry looks at his godfather as well.

"Why?" asked Ginny, not understanding what reason her son would have for not coming home.

"Ask him," spat Victoire, resplendent in her Veela beauty, golden hair flashing in the afternoon sun as she pointed at Harry. The older man took a step back when faced with his nieces rage; she had inherited the Veela fire along with the Weasley temper, "I used to be proud to be Harry Potter's niece, now I'm ashamed to admit we're related." She turned on her heel and stalked off, Teddy going with her.

"What is she talking about Harry?" asked Ginny, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized her husband.

"I have no idea," said the older man sharply, meeting her gaze with as much resistance as he dared.

Rose scoffed before turning to hug her mother, who had just arrived. Aunt Ginny had lost her brother in the war, Uncle George his twin and yet neither of them held the same hostility for Slytherins as Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry.

They seemed to have forgotten that when the Dark Lord was at the height of his power, even Gryffindors had fought under the Dark Mark.

(*)(*)(*)

"She's mine isn't she," said Draco, a statement not a question, as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his chest against her bare back.

"She's yours," admitted Hermione quietly, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as his grip on her tightened. Her wedding band gleamed in the candle light, the red ruby given to her by Ron betraying the emerald that had always been bound around her heart.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he said, knowing the answer but determined to know.

"How has Scorpius' life been for him? Has he ever been treated fairly by other people?" she asked back, needing him to understand, "I didn't want that for Rose."

"I understand," he murmured, "It still doesn't make up for the fact that I've missed eleven years of my daughter's life."

"I'm sorry that I kept them from you," she said sadly, "But you have Scor and Cassie."

"I do," he said, smiling at the thought of his children, "Wait – you kept _them _from me?"

"Dammit," she cursed under her breath, before falling silent for a long time.

"Hugo is yours too," she finally whispered, "I cast a glamour on his when he was born; he looked too much like you for Ron to not suspect." He pulled away from her suddenly, anger dancing on his features.

"Why did you marry him then Hermione!" he yelled.

"You know why," she said, her eyes downcast as she pulled the sheets to cover her breasts before turning to face him. After the war, the Ministry had basically forced Hermione and Ron together – something Ron seemed very keen on despite Hermione's own misgivings. Their marriage was a loveless one, although Ron seemed blind to that fact, seemingly thinking that Hermione was erfectly happy with her lot in life as he was.

"Astoria and I are divorcing," said Draco suddenly, "It's mutual," he added when she seemed to want to interrupt. "I'm going to claim them as mine Hermione, they're Malfoys, they belong in the Manor – not with that Weasel."

"You would take my children from me," she spat harshly and bitterly.

"No, I would take our children and raise them together with you," he said quietly.

"Draco," she said, stroking his cheek as his meaning sank in.

"The war has been over for twenty years Hermione, you owe the world nothing anymore," he said, "but you owe yourself the chance to be happy."

"It's not that simple and you know it," she said softly.

"It is," he insisted, "Marry me Hermione."

She looked at the genuine look in his eyes and kissed him, feeling the passion and adoration that her kisses with Ron had always lacked. With Ron everything felt forced, with Draco she felt safe, they fit together.

"Yes," she said, "I'll marry you."

(*)(*)(*)

Christmas morning dawned dark and early for James Sirius Potter. He was up at five, hurriedly jumping out of bed before the sun dared peak over the horizon and rushing to his sibling's rooms. It was tradition, that he jumped on their beds in the early hours to wake them and then dragged them both downstairs to open their presents under the Christmas tree. Both of them hated mornings, a fact that James always gleefully took advantage off.

He barged into Albus' room with a loud crash before freezing at the sight of the empty bed before him. He stared for a few minutes at the empty bed before silently walking to Lily's room and shaking her awake.

The Potter household seemed to be walking on eggshells for the entire Christmas Holidays. Teddy had moved out during the term after a lengthy argument with Harry, the details of which were unknown but James suspected it had something to do with Albus. Since then, the metamorphmagus to visit Ginny when Harry was at work; and while he had still been the same towards Lily, he had been distancing himself from James altogether. Ginny was furious with Harry and had slept in the guest room for the first week of the holiday, she had given James a thorough tongue lashing and had then been in a surly mood ever since. Harry seemed unrepentant and had pulled James aside in the first week to speak to him; James still remembered the closing lines of their conversation.

"_**Don't you still love him?" asked James.**_

"_**Of course I love him, he's my son," said Harry, "But you can't trust him, he's a Slytherin."**_

When the two of them settled on the living room floor beside the pile of presents under the tree to dutifully wait for their mother to finish making her morning coffee and their father to brush his teeth and shave; James couldn't help but realise that it wasn't the same without Albus.

(*)(*)(*)

"Get up! Get up! Get up!" Scorpius yelled as she bounced up and down on Albus' bed.

"Mmmrgh," he groaned sleepily, "Go away Jamie."

"I am not this Jamie you speak of," said Scorpius in indignation, "I happen to be much better looking."

"Get up mate," said Xavier tiredly rubbing his eyes, "before Scorpius decides to jump on you instead of your bed."

"Ten more minutes," grumbled Albus as he felt his sheets being pulled away, exposing him to the cold air of the dormitories, "SCORPIUS!" he yelled, jumping out of bed in search of warmer clothes as he shivered in his boxers. Ordinarily he thought it was really cool that his common room was located below the lake, but now in the middle of winter the frigid temperature was dreadful.

"Success!" said Scorpius in delight.

"C'mon we have presents," Xavier imitated their blond haired friend, lifting his own pile of gifts and leaving them on Albus' bed. Scorpius did the same, and after much banter and teasing the three eleven year old boys settled down to open their presents together.

Albus got his usual Weasley Jumper from Nana Molly, emerald green with a silver "A" across the front, and a tin of home-made mince pies. Uncle George and his family sent him a hamper of the latest Weasley Wizard Wheezes merchandise. Uncle Percy and family sent him books – no surprise there. He received some clothing from Shell Cottage, a set of ornamental dragon scales from Uncle Charlie and Aunt Hermione sent him a talking homework planner and a pair of omninoculars from Rose. Xavier and Scorpius had both given him a selection of Honeydukes finest, which was ironically what he had owl-ordered for them as well. There were four presents left on his bed, and he reached for the neatly wrapped teal box on top. Teddy always wrapped his gifts in teal, ever since Baby Albus had developed a fascination with nine-year old Teddy's hair. Inside was a set of hair potions, a seemingly girly gift until he read the label discovered that these were intended for changing hair colour – the perfect prank – and a pile of chocolate frogs. The next gift, wrapped in red, was from his mother and held the latest broomstick servicing kit (she apologised in her letter that he wouldn't be able to use it in Hogwarts, but defended herself by saying she had expected him to come home for the holidays and that it wasn't her fault first years weren't allowed to bring their brooms with them.

"Scor, I think I got one of your presents by accident," he said, holding up the third gift, which was labelled as being from one Draco Malfoy.

"Nope," the blonde popped the P, "It's addressed to you." And sure enough it read, "To Albus Severus Potter."

Surprised at the thoughtfulness of his friends father he tore open the gift and grinned appreciatively, a book on hexes and jinxes that would be undeniably useful when he was next confronted by his bullies. Flicking though the book, he noticed the bat-bogey hex, the jelly legs jinx, the mucus multiplication hex and many more. Scor's dad is awesome! That happy thought was discarded when he realised that his own father hadn't sent him anything. But this was Christmas, he shoved the thought aside angrily, his father wouldn't ruin his mood today.

The last gift was a flat box and Albus felt his heart constrict when he opened it. A silver photo frame, the edges wreathed in intricately carved snakes but it was the photo that brought tears to his eyes. Three boys lay collapsed in a heap on the ground, the broomsticks lying discarded behind them, the boys laughing and grinning as they untangled themselves from each other. Teddy's blue hair was easily recognizable, as was the twin mops of dishevelled Potter hair – one brunette, one inky black. James, Teddy and Albus; before Teddy had started dating Victoire, before Al had gone to Hogwarts, before James had stopped caring, back when he had thought the bond between them was unbreakable.

Written on the back of the frame, etched into the silver read . . .

_You're still my baby brother Al._

_-J_

And Albus Potter cried.


	4. Chapter 3

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Three**

**Loyalty**

"I need time to move my assets before I file for divorce," said Hermione in a serious voice as she stirred her coffee. Her office door was locked and sealed with every magical spell she knew, which was quite a few, and her fireplace had been given the same treatment. Across from her, Draco Malfoy sipped at his own cup of tea, nodding in agreement. Whilst Hermione's wealth was nothing compared to the fabled riches of her Malfoy lover, there was no denying that she was an incredibly wealthy witch. Following the war she had been gifted with a massive sum of gold from the Ministry for her efforts in the destruction of the Horcruxes but unlike Harry and Ron she had put her money to work for her; she now owned a chain of wizarding hotels, several businesses on Diagon Alley and had recently acquired shares in Malfoy Holdings (Much to Draco's chagrin; although he had been thrilled that Pansy Parkinson no longer had an interest in the company after all her shares had been bought out by Hermione). Most importantly, every single one of her ventures was in her own name so that if there ever came a time when she and Ron separated, he could claim nothing as communal property. It was always a sore point in their marriage (one of many issues) that she made more money than him but she always maintained that they had been given the same reward for defeating Voldemort and therefore it was not her fault he had left his prize money to gather dust whilst she had invested hers in worthwhile ventures. In addition, as the Head for the Department for Magical Law Enforcement she was technically Ron and Harry's boss – another sore point that had led to countless arguments between the couple. Ron felt that being married to his boss enabled him to do less work in the Department, Hermione and Harry were both adamant that as he was the deputy head of the Aurors he qualified for no such benefits.

"How long?" Draco asked conversationally, Astoria had signed the papers this morning and he was officially divorced. They had mutually wished each other well for their respective futures and as they had both been friends prior to their marriage they were confident they could remain friendly for the sake of their children. Scorpius and Cassiopeia had been indifferent at best, they loved both their parents and both were old enough to see that neither was happy with the other. As long as they still got to see each both Astoria and Draco as often as they wished, they raised no qualms about the divorce.

"A year, maybe less," she sighed, "I need to move carefully, if word of this reaches Ron – he'll have Harry on his side for sure."

"Potter," Draco said his old school rivals name like a curse, he knew that if Harry got involved then Hermione would suffer a very lengthy and painful divorce, Potter had a reputation for getting his own way where the public was concerned. Everyone saw him as their saviour, so nobody questioned his judgement, even when it was skewed. Case in point, the current matter surrounding his son, Scorpius had written Draco often about his best friends toubles (Draco found it ironic that Albus and Scorpius were best friends when their fathers had tried to kill each other at regular intervals during the war) and Draco had never felt prouder of his son when Scorpius had written to him saying he would be spending the holidays at Hogwarts because Albus didn't want to go home. Having grown up with Lucius as a father, he knew how hard it was for a child to grow without fatherly affection and had readily sent the boy a Christmas gift when Scorpius had implied that Albus wasn't expectinf anything from his father or brother. Draco felt very sympathetic to the youngest Potter as he understood perfectly well how harsh and judgemental the senior Potter could be; despite Narcissa and Draco's actions during the war –both of whom had aided Harry on his quest by lying to Voldemort and Bellatrix respectively – both had very narrowly avoided Azkaban. That had only been thanks to Hermione testifying in their favour at both their trials, though even after they had been declared innocent Harry and Ron had proceeded to drag the Malfoy name through the mud.

"What about the children?" he asked after a while, his coffee mug now half empty.

"I'm going to let them choose," she held up her hand to silence Draco when he made to protest, "No, it's not fair to them that they just move in and live with us and forget Ron; he sees them as his own and he's been a terrific father to them even if he hasn't been the best husband to me. In the end I think we'll agree for joint custody."

"If I claim them then you don't have to give them up at all," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"But I'm not going to hurt Ron like that," said Hermione, "I may not love him but he is one of my best friends; bloodline or no bloodline he is the only father they know."

"You've always had a pure heart," Draco noted, seeing her logic. Loathe as he was to admit it, he would rather his children be happy with the Weasel than miserable with him.

"I've cheated on my husband for my entire marriage," she said with a sad look on her face, "That hardly qualifies as having a pure heart."

"Your heart is pure Hermione," said Draco honestly, speaking from his own heart, "It's one of the reasons I'm in love with you."

"Ironic isn't it," she said, smiling at him, "That a muggleborn witch would have captured the heart of the Draco Malfoy."

"You're purer than I am," he said, leaning across the table to capture her lips with his own.

(*)(*)(*)

"Albus wait!" called James urgently, running down the corridor after his brothers group of friends, glad that his own friends were in Gryffindor Tower so they wouldn't see him behaving civilly towards the Slytherins.

"What do you want James," snapped Rose as the group of first years paused and turned to face him, he noted with a pang that they immediately closed ranks around Albus, who hung his head dejectedly behind them.

"I just want to talk to my brother," pleaded James, his voice full of guilt. He hadn't meant what had happened at the beginning of the week, it wasn't his fault. But his friends had been cajoling him into action and they had that skinny Avery kid cornered on the third floor. How could he have known Albus would have come to his friends defence? _Because it's what you would have done, if it were Alison or Seth or Joshua in trouble_, a snide voice in his head chirped in.

"He doesn't want to talk to you," spat the blonde, Scorpius Malfoy. Albus had spent two days in the hospital wing after the last incident, something Scorpius would never forget. The world looked at Slytherins as a bunch of back-biting, manipulative bastards but they were wrong. True there were there usual infighting amongst them that was present in all houses but when you messed with one, you messed with all. Unlike the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs; the Slytherins stuck together, personal grudges aside – they had nobody else except each other and that made them unwaveringly loyal to their house-mates.

"Its fine," said Albus quietly, "Go on, I'll talk to him."

Scorpius and Rose looked like they would like to have argued with him but Xavier and Katherine gave them both significant looks and the group departed, leaving the brothers alone. At least it appeared that way; they were actually waiting in the next corridor, wands ready. There was no way they were leaving Albus alone after what had happened.

"Five minutes," said Albus in a dull voice, "Say what you have to and go."

"I'm sorry Al, I'm so, so sorry," began James, "I didn't mean to, I'm sorr–"

"You're sorry?" interrupted Albus incredulously, "What for? For hitting me with the knockback jinx? For sending me flying down the stairs? For breaking my arm? Or for laughing at me instead of helping me to the hospital wing?" Every question Albus asked stung James as if somebody was driving a knife into his gut and then twisting it. What hurt worse was the note of disbelief in his brother's voice that he was getting an apology.

"All of that Al," said James squirming with guilt, "I was aiming at that Avery kid, I didn't meant to hit you."

"So that makes it fine?" snapped Albus, "It's ok because you didn't mean to hurt me. It's ok because you were trying to attack my friend and I got in the way trying to save him? What happened to you James, what happened to the brother I used to be able to wake up at midnight when I was scared of the dark? What happened to the brother who thought me how to play quidditch? What happened to the brother who _cared_?"

"Albus . . ." James was at a loss for what to say, he didn't need to because Albus was still talking.

"You know when you sent me that picture on Christmas I cried," James flinched when he heard this, "I cried because I thought that even though dad doesn't give a damn about me anymore I would always have my big brother. Obviously I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong Albus," said James softly, "I . . . You're my brother and I love you Al. Please can we just put this behind us and go back to the way we were before?"

"Before huh?" said Albus in a thick voice, "And what about my friends? Are they still on the firing line? Am I supposed to suddenly start sitting with you Gryffindors and acting like the perfect little lion cub?" James remained silent, because what could he say, that was the crux of the matter – the animosity between their houses wasn't going to die down any time soon and Albus would never abandon his friends to the upper-year Gryffindors mercy just like James wouldn't stop being friends with his own circle. His silence was all Albus needed to hear.

"They say Slytherins are manipulative and inherently evil," said Albus as he turned to walk away, "Ask yourself why we're the only ones getting hexed and curse then. Ask yourself when was the last time a Slytherin attacked someone from another house."

Albus turned on his heel and left, the Sorting Hat had said that he was loyal to those who were loyal to him. It was too late for the House of Potter, who had scorned him and hurt him more than he would ever let the world know. Albus Severus Potter – named for Slytherin's most famous Head of House – belonged to the House of Green and Silver now.

They had taken him in and protected him when the people he had loved had turned against him, it was they who reached out to the shy boy who hid behind his curtains for fear of being hexed – not knowing the only hexes coming his way would be cast by his brother and his brothers friends – Albus was now a Potter only in name.

Slytherin was his family now; they had never hurt or let him down and from here on out Albus would be loyal only to them.

(*)(*)(*)

"I hate Herbology," scowled Scorpius as he worked his way through his homework, crossly sketching a diagram of an Asphodel plant before beginning his essay on its uses.

"It really isn't fair that Longbottom never gives a Slytherin anything higher than a seventy even though you and Al are the best in our year; with the exception of Rosie of course," said Delphin as he struggled with his Defense essay. Professor Creevey was fairer than Neville but he still had a small grudge against the Slytherins because he blamed them for his older brother's death. Nevertheless he at least didn't discriminate in class.

"Herbology is better than History of Magic," argued Katherine, who preferred going by the name Kat, "Honestly, you think dying with be a sign that Binns shouldn't be teaching."

"Are you joking, Longarse is the most unfair teacher in the school, he docked twenty points from me today because my homework was an inch shorter than he had requested," said Xavier with a groan. Kat and Albus had had to work extra hard in Charms to make up for those points, thankfully Flitwick didn't place much stock in what house you were in and judged you by your character and talent. He had fast become Albus' favourite teacher due to that fact alone; though all of Slytherin loved old Slughorn, who saw how poorly his house was treated and doted on his charges as befit a grandfather rather than a Head of House.

The Slytherins were clustered in their corner of the common room, a circle of leather couches that they had claimed as their own from the first day of term. It was close enough to the fire that they were warm, but it wasn't near enough for them to become uncomfortably hot.

"Life isn't fair when you have a green tie," said Albus quietly, putting an end to the discussion as they all exchanged knowing looks of agreement. They all had suffered in some way due to either their surnames or their house; Albus had lost most of his family, Scorpius and Xavier had been denied access to their Gringotts accounts more often than not because the Ministry was "inspecting" their family finances for signs of illicit activity, Delphin had had his house raided four times over the Christmas holidays and Kat had been fired from her babysitting job because she was a Slytherin.

"One day we'll make it fair," said Scorpius quietly, as he opened his textbook to find the other names for Asphodel.

"Fair for all of us outcasts," said Kat with a wry smile.

"I like the sound of that," said Delphin, "The Outcasts; it has a nice ring to it."

"Every group does need a name," said Xavier, glancing up from his parchment.

"Then its official," said Albus with a smile, "We're the Outcasts."

The five students grinned at each other, each feeling something they rarely if ever felt since coming to Hogwarts.

A sense of belonging.

(*)(*)(*)

"James sent him flying down the stairs and you're not doing anything about it," snapped Teddy angrily, confronting his godfather for the first time in months. It wasn't intentional; he had dropped by to catch up with his godmother and had been irritated to note that Harry was home. Ginny had made the appropriately "I'm sorry face" face when the turquoise haired man walked into the kitchen and noticed his godfather sitting at the table. Now Ginny looked downright livid as she heard about the incident for the first time.

"Boys will be boys," dismissed Harry with a wave of his hand, "These things happened all the time when I was in school. Seamus Finnigan set himself and his potions partner on fire on a regular basis."

"He fell down _two flights of stairs_, _broke _his arm and got a _concussion_ and that's all you have to say," asked Teddy incredulously, "If it were James on the receiving end of that curse, Albus would be swamped with howlers and you know it."

"He's right, don't deny it," scowled Ginny when Harry opened his mouth to protest, "As it is I'm going to write Minerva and inquire why she didn't inform me of this sooner."

"Victoire said that Mcgonagall did write home," said Teddy in obvious surprise, before turning to fix Harry with an icy glare.

"You knew?" barked Ginny, her face rapidly going as red as her hair as she whirled on her husband, "Teddy dear, we'll do lunch tomorrow. Do you mind leaving us now?"

"Not at all mum," said Teddy quickly grabbing his coat and heading for the floo, he knew better than to get in the way of Ginny Potter's wrath. Hopefully this would knock some sense into Harry. Teddy felt disappointed in the man, all his life he had looked up to Harry as a father. His own parents had perished in the war, Harry and Ginny had stepped up remarkably to the occasion and raised him as their own – his grandmother Andromeda being too old and grief-stricken to manage caring for a baby following the deaths of her husband, daughter and son-in-law. Now he didn't know what to think of the man, Albus was as much Teddy's brother as James was and it was a slap in his face that the youngest Potter boy was being ostracized for merely being sorted into a different house.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Ginny was trembling with rage as she turned on her husband, "I am absolutely sick of your behaviour Harry. It's tearing this family apart and you're too blinded by your own bloody prejudiced bigotry to see it. James hasn't been right since Christmas, Albus won't even come home anymore and Teddy can't stand looking at you without getting angry. Lily is nine years old and she knows something's wrong, she's terrified that she'll become a Slytherin and get kicked out the door the same as Al."

"What do you want me to do?" snapped Harry, "I told Al to insist on Gryffindor and he did choose his house. I talked with Neville, he heard him talking to the Sorting Hat! The boy chose Slytherin! He chose to turn his back on us!"

"You daft idiot!" raged Ginny, "He did not turn on us, did you not hear a word of what Victoire and Rose told us during the holidays. He's scared of coming home because he thinks his family doesn't love him anymore! He's terrified that you're going to disown him on sight because he's a Slytherin! He thinks his father, whom he loves, has abandoned him."

When Harry remained stonily silent Ginny shook her head and left the room, pausing at the doorway, "I love my children more than I love you Harry, I swear on Dumbledore's tomb that I won't hesitate to leave you if that means my children will be happy again."

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Thoughts?


	5. Chapter 4

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Four**

**Summertime Sorrows**

"You're going to behave yourself," said Ginny firmly, glaring at her husband as they waited side by side on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, the scarlet Hogwarts Express just visible in the distance. She had made good on her threat to leave Harry if he didn't change his prejudice ways, moving home to the Burrow for two weeks after their last argument. Harry had eventually begged her to return and they had compromised that even if he refused to drop his bigotry, he had to at least pretend to treat Albus as he always had. Ginny hadn't seen her son in a year thanks to her husband and she was not prepared to spend another year without seeing him, during the Easter vacation Albus had once again opted to remain at Hogwarts; with Rose and Kat for company.

"Yes," said Harry half-heartedly, loathe as was to admit it, he actually missed his sons – the Gryffindor and the Slytherin – he had always been especially close to Albus but he couldn't help himself from colouring his meek, intellectual son as he had the Slytherins of his own school days. A part of him knew that what he was doing was wrong, but it was a small part, easily silenced by the majority which ruled that all Slytherins were evil. Think of the company his son kept these days, an Avery, a Nott, a Zabini and worst of all a _Malfoy._ Death Eaters the lot of them.

"I can't wait to see them," said Lily ecstatically, she had just turned ten and was innocent to the problems her family was experiencing. Her only concern was her youngest brother, especially his house, she didn't want to be a Slytherin – she didn't really understand why that particular house was so bad but Albus was her brother, he wasn't bad. It was the same as when she was put in the same group as the naughty children at her school; just because she had to work with them didn't mean she was evil. So she couldn't comprehend why her father had warned her not to spend too much time with Albus this summer. He wasn't evil like the death eaters in her father's stories, he was just Al.

There was a loud whistle signalling the train's arrival as it pulled into the station, its many doors sliding open as soon as it stopped, allowing the dozens of eager children to push their way out into the station. James came bounding over fairly quickly, pausing only to exchange his goodbyes with his friends before joining his parents. He wasn't concerned about missing his peers; arrangements had already made them to come over to each other's homes throughout the entirety of the summer. The eldest Potter youth wiped his mother's kisses away quickly before lifting his sister into the air and spinning her around, finally turning to embrace his father warmly.

"Hey mum," a quiet voice said from the bustling crowd and Ginny turned to face her youngest son, quickly masking her shock and horror at his appearance. He had grown a few inches over the year; his hair had grown out so that it fell in soft waves around his face instead of standing on end as it usually did. But that wasn't what scared her; he was skinnier than she had ever seen him, there were dark rings beneath his eyes, those emerald orbs which usually sparkled with excitement seemed dull and lack-lustre. Worst of all was the slowly purpling bruise marring his left cheek.

"Albus," she beamed despite herself, pulling him for a tight hug and peppered his cheeks with kisses, thrilled to see him again before pulling away and fixing him with a stern look.

"Who gave you that bruise?" she said seriously, her tone nurturing and motherly.

"I'll bet it was those Slytherins, vile bullies the lot of them," said Uncle Ron as he came up beside them, his eyes hard as he took in his wayward nephew. He didn't envy Harry having to raise a snake. Rose was chattering away to her mother and brother, excitedly telling them about her exam results. No surprise, but she was top of their year in everything save for Charms – in which Albus had achieved the honour.

"It's nothing," said Albus quietly, absently noting his father hadn't yet said a word to him while his sisters arms were squeezing him around the waist. There was an awkward silence before James spoke up, surprising himself with his honesty. Albus was still his baby brother; even if the younger boy was pulling away from him . . . he hadn't spoken to him since their last conversation when he had tried apologising. He refused point blank to speak to James after that, especially after he tried to reconcile only to receive a stinging hex in the eye from Alison Longbottom.

"It was Scottie Wood," said James, "A seventh year."

"Isn't he a Gryffindor?" asked Ron, whilst Harry just pursed his lips. Ginny scowled at her brothers disbelieving tone.

"Yes," chirped in Rose, suddenly noticing the awkward atmosphere. They were saved from Ron's angry retort by the timely interruption of Scorpius and his father, Draco seemed extremely uncomfortable but his son was dragging him along so he had no choice but to follow.

"Albus!" he yelled jovially, his grey eyes glimmering with mischief, "I almost forgot to invite you to the Manor, the second week in July sounds good?" Ginny and Hermione were perhaps the only two who noticed how quickly Albus brightened at the invitation, grinning at his friends. Harry and Ron just scowled, the elder Potter gritting his teeth loudly.

"Now Albus," said Harry in a tone dripping with forced civility, "We wouldn't want to trouble Mr. Malfoy."

"It's not trouble at all," said Draco with a frown, "Having his best friend around will do Scorpius good, and it's his first summer home since the divorce."

"I'm going to Seth's that week anyway," shrugged James, coming to his brothers rescue when he saw the defiant look in his father's expression, "It wouldn't be fair for me to go and him not to," James caught his father out.

"I'll write you," said Ginny quickly, speaking to Draco and glaring at her husband, "Of course he can come; I understand how _hard_ a _divorce_ can be on a family, especially the children."

(*)(*)(*)

"How were your exams Albus?" said Hermione from across the table, "Rosie tells me that you did very well in charms." It was the second week of the holiday and both Ginny and Hermione had decided that a family dinner might dissolve some of the tension that was poisoning the family.

"I got one hundred and seven percent," he said proudly, "I like charms, Professor Flitwick is always fair." He fell silent quickly, sensing that he had said too much, his parents were both looking at him curiously now.

"What do you mean he's always fair?" asked Uncle Ron, scowling slightly at his plate. He was of the opinion that his nephew was merely making up lies to get attention, Ron vehemently defended Gryffindor and refused to believe that somebody from his own house would dare to stoop to such levels.

"It's nothing," said Albus nervously, looking at Rose for help. She rolled her eyes at his hesitation before speaking herself.

"A lot of the teachers aren't very pro-Slytherin," she said, glaring at her uncle and father as if daring them to argue her point, "Professor Longbottom is the worst, he treats Slytherins like scum."

"I find that very hard to believe," said Harry, meeting his nieces eyes directly, "Neville is a dear friend of the family and an impeccable person, it's the fault of the student that they misbehave and require punishment."

"He used a blood quill on Montague," said Albus quietly, causing Ginny and Hermione to gasp.

"Do not tell such lies at the table," said Harry firmly, the scars on the back of his hand whitening slightly as he clenched his fist. _I must not tell lies. . . _Neville would never do something like that, he was sure of it.

(*)(*)(*)

"Happy Birthday Albus!" came the loud cry as Ginny led him blindfolded down the stairs, he didn't believe his ears. Tugging at the black scarf, his eyes widened in amazement, somehow his friends were sprawled around the living room. But they couldn't be here; he must have been imagining it. After his one week stay at Malfoy Manor, during which he had spent the entire week playing quidditch with Scorpius and Delphin (whose own manor was very near) he had dreaded having to come home to his father. It had just been a week with the Malfoys but he had found himself quickly becoming attached to the family, Draco was very laid back and lax about rules around the house. He had even allowed them to do magic – Harry had taken Albus' wand from him at the beginning of the holiday so Al had had to borrow Scorpius' whenever he wanted to try out a new spell from the Malfoy library; somehow James had managed to keep his wand, Harry insisted that this was because he was older and more responsible but Albus had a sickening feeling that it was just another show of favouritism. Cassiopeia Malfoy was frighteningly intelligent for a girl who had just turned eleven two weeks prior to his visit, she had beaten Scorpius, Draco and Albus at wizard chess one after another and could already cast spells on her brand new wand. She was enamoured with Albus, and Scorpius jokingly warned his best friend that she was already doodling Mrs. Albus Potter in her diary since the pair had met. Albus found this quite terrifying.

But he hadn't expected his friends to come over for his birthday solely because of the conversation he had had with his parents about inviting them a week earlier.

"_**Mum. Dad. My birthday's next week and I was wondering if I could invite some of my friends over for the day," he said politely after breakfast, making sure that James and Lily had already left the kitchen. **_

"_**That sounds lovely dear," said Ginny with a smile, she had quickly noticed that her son rarely seemed happy and unburdened unless he was around his friends. It made sense in a way; they had accepted him for who he was, something that his own father and brother could not. It hurt Ginny that her son had had to find solace somewhere else but there was nothing she could do now – not now that Harry was already on his last nerve after a recent raid on the Avery Residence had yielded nothing incriminating. **_

"_**Who are these friends?" asked Harry coolly, raising an eyebrow at his son.**_

"_**Xavier, Delphin, Scorpius and Kat," said Albus nervously, Ginny hated seeing how nervous he was around his father these days; especially when previously they had been so close. **_

"_**Death Eater brats," said Harry succinctly, "I'm afraid not Albus, I won't have their kind under my roof."**_

"_**Harry!" barked Ginny.**_

"_**No Ginny. I let him go to the ferrets already, I am not conceding this."**_

"_**It's not fair," yelled Albus, surprising both his parents by standing up for himself, "James gets to have his friends over all the time and you won't let mine come over on my BIRTHDAY! What did I do that is so bad! I got high marks this year, I'm never in trouble. JUST BECAUSE I'M A SLYTHERIN DOES NOT CHANGE WHO I AM!"**_

"_**Go to your room Albus," said Harry sternly, quickly composing himself, "Before I ground you."**_

"Dad said they couldn't come," whispered Albus to his mother.

"Leave your father to me Al," said Ginny grimly, "Now go enjoy yourself."

(*)(*)(*)

"I come here expecting a pride of lions and find myself in a snake pit," laughed a red-headed man with the build of a beater as he came up behind the Outcasts.

"Careful Uncle George," laughed Albus, "We're venomous," before leaping onto his favourite uncle and hugging him tightly. George Weasley was never one for prejudice, he had taken the news that his nephew was in Slytherin in his own stride and cheerfully begun supplying him the his merchandise, jokingly stating that at least the snakes now had a fighting chance at becoming pranksters. __

"So who are these spiffing young gentleman clustered around the table," asked George pulling up a chair and then pulling his significant double take before sweeping himself into a dramatic bow, "And delightful young lady," he added, noticing Kat who grinned cheekily up at him from her own seat (practically on Xavier's lap – she had very romantic notions for a tomboy). Albus quickly introduced his friends, who all recognized the owner of their world's most famous joke shop.

"What terrible company you keep," teased George, "Now do tell me about all the pranks you've been pulling on my delightful nephew across the room," gesturing at James who was watching the group with a sullen look on his face. Lily on the other hand seemed quite taken with Scorpius, and Albus found himself able to get back at his friend for the incessant teasing he had received concerning Cassiopeia.

"We don't really pull pranks," said Kat.

"Why ever not?" cried George in mock outrage, "How very scandalous."

"It's not that we don't want to," said Xavier, shifting uncomfortably, "It's just that after what happened to Milly from fifth year we don't have much of a choice."

"Whatever happened to Milly?" asked George.

"Well she cast a tickling charm on the Gryffindor quidditch team during one of their practices," began Delphin, George laughed appreciatively, muttering something that went along the lines of , "Oldest trick in the book."

"And Professor Longbottom made sure she was expelled," finished Albus with a sad look on his face – Neville was his godfather and it stung that the man could be so cruel.

"For a tickling charm?" George's outrage wasn't feigned this time around.

"Hogwarts has changed," said Scorpius, "When Xav got hexed off his broom during our flying lessons, Cole just got lines,Your house makes all the difference these days." Kat nodded emphatically, "He broke his leg and had to spend three days in the hospital wing; the tickling charm didn't even last half an hour."

"I shall be dropping old Minnie a line," said George seriously, "Reminding her of who exactly funds Hogwarts."

(*)(*)(*)

"I thought I told you not to invite those filthy death eater spawn into my house," spat Harry as he slammed his son's door closed behind him.

"I didn't know they were coming dad," pleaded Albus, backing away from his father, "Mum invited them; I swear I didn't."

"Your mother is too soft," snarled Harry, "It's your fault for befriending such scum," Albus could smell the firewhiskey on his father's breath, sourly permeating his room.

"They're not scum!" said Albus, "They're my frien–" The slap came so fast he didn't have time to dodge or block himself, the harsh smack of flesh colliding with flesh echoing in the still air. The second attack caught him in his shoulder, sending him careening to the ground. Tears brimmed in his eyes but he blinked them away, he wouldn't give his father the satisfaction.

"Do not talk back to me," growled Harry through gritted teeth, "I have been more than obliging since you got home, I have not raised a word of protest at having to provide a fucking Slytherin with a place under my roof and yet you disobey me at every turn. Now clean yourself up, and not a word of this to your mother or the next hit you get will break bones, I promise you." Turning on his heel, he stalked from the room, angrily yanking the door open and not noticing James standing horrified in the landing.

"Al," said the older boy, rushing to his younger brother's side and helping him to his feet, eyes widening at the sight of the reddened flesh.

"Get out," spat Albus.

"Albus . . . let me help you . . . please."

"GET OUT!" screamed the younger boy, flinging out his hand, his eyes flaring as magic coursed through his veins, raw and untamed. A blast of pure energy, fed by his negative emotions, caught his older brother in the chest and sent him flying out the room, the door slamming and magically locking behind him. Albus shook himself, staring at his hand in stunned reverence at what he had just done, before dragging himself to the mirror and nearly leaping back in shock.

His emerald eyes were an inky black, swirling with raw energy that was slowly suffusing back into his body. Slowly they took on their usual colour, and Albus turned his attention to his slowly purpling cheek. Reaching into his dresser drawer, he felt around for the bruise-removal cream his Uncle George had perfected for getting rid of images. Dipping his finger into the pale yellow cream, he thought better of it.

He would wear these bruises as a badge of honour . . . as tangible evidence of his father's betrayal. His resolve was hardening, he would make them hurt just as much as they had hurt him, he would pay them back every sickle and knut; he was an Outcast and his day was coming.

"One day you will need me Harry," said Albus quietly, "And I _promise_ I won't be there for you when you do."

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: I know that Harry is very OOC in this fanfiction but that's just the storyline, people are asking why Lily isn't getting a lot of screen time at present – I assure you she has a major story arc of her own coming up, but she's ten at present so too young to become a power player. Next chapter is Dramione and revelations; featuring Ron's reaction to his wife's infidelity.

Review Please.


	6. Chapter 5

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Five**

**Infidelity**

"Scamander, Lysander," called Neville, thumbing his way through the parchment of first year names. Albus scowled lightly at the man, he was hungry having barely eaten on the train and the Sorting seemed to be going on forever. Beside him, Scorpius' stomach gave a loud growl, causing a few of the students surrounding them to chuckle in amusement.

The first-year blonde scurried up to the Sorting Hat, a dreamy look in his icy blue eyes, eerily reminiscent of his mother Luna as the hat slipped down past his nose. There were a few giggles throughout the hall at the sight before the hat screamed, "Ravenclaw," and the young blonde grinned cheerfully as he made his way to sit beside his twin brother.

"Malfoy, Cassiopeia," read Neville, not hiding the disdain in his voice as he called for the platinum blonde girl, who fixed him with a glare that could curdle milk before elegantly perching herself on the stool and letting the hat sit upon her head. Albus and Scorpius both tensed, the two twelve year olds waiting apprehensively as the hat seemed to be taking quite a while to decide. From the looks of it, the girl was arguing quite vehemently with the hat. Finally, there was a loud cry of:

"GRYF–"

"WHAT DID I JUST TELL YOU!" shrieked Cassiopeia, stunning the entire hall into silence. Scorpius and Albus just exchanged grins, Delphin chuckling beside them – they had all been on the receiving end of her temper before.

"SLYTHERIN!" declared the hat, in a somewhat squeaky voice. If Albus didn't know any better he would have sworn that it was terrified.

"Was that so hard?" asked Cassiopeia the hat, loudly enough for the entire hall to hear (it let out a whimper), before proudly making her way to the Slytherin table, her black tie already becoming striped with emerald and silver. Mcgonagall seemed on the verge of a stroke, obviously nobody had ever decided on their own house quite so drastically in the past. Neville Longbottom seemed apoplectic with rage.

"Bloody hat wanted to put me in Ravenclaw," scowled Cassiopeia, sitting down beside Albus when Scorpius refused to scoot any further up the table, "Then when I threatened to set it on fire, it decided to put me in Gryffindor."

"How did you get it to put you in Slytherin?" asked Kat in amusement, the Outcasts clustered close together around her, the Sorting forgotten.

"I reminded him that my Great-Aunt was Bellatrix Lestrange," she smirked.

(*)(*)(*)

"We need to talk," said Hermione in a serious voice, taking a seat across the kitchen island from her husband as he sipped his evening cocoa. She had just put Hugo to bed, rather earlier than he was accustomed to but she didn't want him hearing the inevitable argument. She had already had a long overdue heart to heart with Rose about the impending divorce and her daughter's true parentage. It had come as a shock to her that Rose had already guessed that Ron wasn't her biological father. This was because, during her own sorting, the Sorting Hat had alluded to her having Slytherin blood. As Hermione was a muggle-born and Ron was a Weasley – a family that hadn't produced a Slytherin since the founding of Hogwarts – Rose had quickly deduced that her mother had been having an affair. She hadn't blamed her mother, she was twelve years old, old enough to see how miserable Hermione was with Ron and to realise that her parent's marriage was a forced arrangement rather than a love match. What had truly angered Rose was the news that Draco Malfoy was her father but not due to any bad feelings towards the pure-blood, rather it was because she fancied Scorpius Malfoy (Hermione maintained it was too young for her to fancy anyone) and was incredibly thankful that seeing at they were now aware that they were half-siblings nothing would happen between them.

Draco had spoken to both his children and explained the situation to them, Cass had been angry because she felt he was trying to replace Astoria whilst Scorpius seemed chagrined that he had siblings he had never met. All three children had agreed to keep silent on the matter until the official announcement was made.

"What about?" he asked, frowning at her tone.

"Our marriage," said Hermione, "I . . . I want a divorce Ronald."

Ron's perfectly constructed world came crashing down around him at her words, he loved her. He had always loved her, she was the only witch he had ever loved and she wanted to leave him. After seventeen years of marriage she wanted to leave him. No! They could work through this, counselling, maybe some time apart from each other . . . not a divorce.

"What?" he managed weakly, "Why?"

"Because this . . . us . . . this life the two of us have," said Hermione, "It's a sham Ron, you and I were never suited. We were best friends and then after the war we got forced together by the Ministry as their Golden Couple. There were never fireworks with us, no spark, nothing."

Every word drove a steel spike through his heart.

"Seventeen years Hermione," he whispered, "We were together seventeen years and you felt this way all this time. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Because I couldn't be with the man I loved," she said softly, not wanting to hurt him but needing him to understand that his facade was an illusion that needed to end, "At least not publically." She had decided to be honest with him for once in their marriage, to finally lay every single one of her cards on the table and pray he understood.

"Tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means," he said quietly, his ears beginning to turn red, a sure sign that his temper was building.

"I've been unfaithful to you for our entire marriage Ron," she said, meeting his gaze head on, determined not to hang her head in shame for acting out of love for Draco.

"Who?" he said, the barely contained anger in his voice evident, "Is it . . .Harry?"

"Merlin no," she couldn't help but laugh at the absurd statement, quickly she sobered, the look in his eyes warning her that this was not the time for frivolity, "It's Draco Malfoy."

The name hung between them like a dagger on a pendulum, swinging between them, ready to stab whoever broke the silence first. Ron took the blade first, his anger exploding from him like a volcano, spraying the room with malice.

"YOU WHORE!" he bellowed, "SEVENTEEN YEARS YOU'VE BEEN KISSING ME WITH THE SAME LIPS YOU USED TO SUCK ON THE FERRETS DICK! YOU FUCKING BITCH! WHAT ABOUT ROSIE AND HUGO! WHAT THE FUCK WILL THIS DO TO THEM! DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT OUR CHILDREN YOU TRAITOROUS SLUT!"

"ENOUGH!" shrieked Hermione, her voice laced with power, effectively silencing her rampaging husband. She took a deep breath and turned to him, anger evident in her chocolate brown eyes.

"Do you think for a moment," she said acidly, "that I don't know about your own extra-marital activities? Do you think that I don't know what you and Lavender get up to every month when I'm away on work? Or the brief fling you had with Romilda Vane last summer? What about your _auror mission_ to France last year when you shagged Gabriella Delacour?"

"Do not make me out to be some harlot when you can't keep it in your pants to save your life," she spat, "I have only slept with two men in my entire life, one was the man who gave me my two beautiful children . . . and the other was you."

Ron recoiled as if struck, his eyes widening in horror as her meaning sank in. Rosie and Hugo . . . belonged to the ferret? No it couldn't be, Hugo was the spitting image of him – tall, lanky, red hair, freckles . . . she was lying. Hermione was lying. But Rosie? She had golden blonde hair. . . Her skin was pale . . . Her eyes were laced with silver . . . The evidence that had been staring him in the face for years slapped him hard in the face . . . He was not Rose Weasley's father.

He didn't realise what he was doing until he heard a cry of pain, snapping himself back to reality he saw his wife on the ground, clutching her left eye. Horror struck at what he had just done, he stared at his clenched fist as if it had betrayed him. But it hadn't. She had.

"Do not dare to lay a hand on me again," she scowled as she got to her feet, the beginning of a black eye evident on her face, "Just this once I will let it go because I understand that I have hurt you."

"Bitch," Ron spat straight in her face, blanching when he felt her wand pressed against his throat.

"I will be moving out tonight," she said in a barely controlled voice, "I had hoped that we could be amicable through this divorce but evidently not. I will be taking Hugo with me to give you alone time to calm down, we will arrange custody with our lawyers soon. I think joint custody is the most appropriate seeing as you are their dad even if Draco is their father. I've already had the divorce papers drawn up, they're in the top drawer of my desk. Do yourself a favour and sign them quickly."

She turned on her heel, slashing her wand through the air and yelling "Pack!" Instantly a suitcase enchanted with an undetectable expansion charm cast on it swept into the room, rapidly filling with her clothes and belongings.

"Take him with you," snarled Ron, reaching for his firewhiskey and pouring himself a painfully large amount, "But don't bring him back! I don't want Malfoy scum in my house."

(*)(*)(*)

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" yelled Albus, tearing down the corridor with Scorpius and Xavier hot on his heels; all three boys had their wands out as they approached the fourth year Gryffindors. Albus recognized them on sight; Seth Finnigan, Joshua Jordan and Fred II Weasley, the only fourth year Gryffindor boy missing was his brother James. On her knees in front of them, caught in a leg-locker curse knelt Cassiopeia, her wand lying across the passageway.

"But out Potter," scoffed Seth, training his wand on Cass and hitting her with a muttered _Levicorpus_, levitating her in the air by her ankle.

"Put her down," scowled Scorpius, aiming his wand at Seth. There was a jet of pale blue light and the fourth year boy doubled over, the stinging hex catching him in his groin. Fred and Joshua were on their guard in an instant, jets of light flashing from their wands as they let fly a storm of hexes at the three Slytherin second years. They were good, both had two years worth of magical experience on the Outcasts but Albus alone made up for his inexperience with sheer magical power. Xavier and Scorpius were not as powerful as their friend but both of them had a natural skill for duelling.

It was not enough though; a stunning curse hit Xavier in his chest and sent him flying backwards against the wall, leaving Scorpius and Albus alone to face the two Gryffindors. Then Seth was back on his feet, still wincing in pain as he joined the fray.

"Twenty points from Slytherin," barked Mcgonagall, appearing from around the corner, Professor Creevey at her side, "And thirty from Gryffindor!" she added as she took in the scene. She flicked her wand, effortlessly disarming all five boys at once as catching their wands in her free hand.

"Explain yourselves," she said, her lips going so thin they seemed like to disappear.

"They attacked us professor," said Joshua quickly, "We had no choice but to defend ourselves."

"I highly doubt that," said Mcgonagall dryly, nodding towards Cassie, who lay sobbing on the floor, "I sincerely doubt that a first year girl would attack three fourth years."

"Now the truth if you will," she demanded, "Mr. Potter?"

"We were going to the library to get some books for Potions ma'am," he said honestly, "and we heard Cassie screaming for help so we came here and then we saw her and they had their wands on her so we attacked." A strain of what could be termed pride flashed through Mcgonagall's eyes as she took in the twelve year old, he would have a hard life that much was certain. But he was brave enough to defend his friends even when the odds were against him; those were the qualities that ran deeper than any house could tell.

"As admirable as your actions may be Mr. Potter, I do not condone duelling in the corridors," she said sternly, "The three of you will receive a detention," she nodded towards the three Slytherins before turning on the Gryffindors.

"Never have I been more ashamed of my own house, a week's detentions to each of you and a further twenty five points deducted . . . each. Now go to your common rooms before I make that two weeks of detention."

The boys began to disperse, Scorpius helping Cass to her feet while Albus slung a hand under Xavier's shoulders to help support his weight. Minerva Mcgonagall called out to them just as they were about to disappear around the corner.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, Mr. Avery . . . Ten points to Slytherin each – for showing outstanding loyalty to your house mates in a time of need."

(*)(*)(*)

"What's on your mind?" asked Alison, her honey coloured hair pulled into a high ponytail as she settled down beside James. She couldn't help but notice that puberty and the summer had been good to the eldest Potter of her generation, while he had always been tall for his age; his muscles had filled out quite nicely to match. His hazel eyes swirled with a liquid gold, his cheekbones seemed slightly higher as the baby fat left his face, his brown hair nearly black.

"Nothing," he said moodily, flicking a scrap of parchment into the fireplace. He flushed slightly at having her close to him, Alison was one of his best friends and he had never felt awkward around her. That was until she got her breasts and started bleeding once a month – know he felt uncomfortable being as candid with her as he used to be.

"Obviously it's something," she said perceptibly, "You don't brood."

"I do now," he said, "So let me brood in peace."

"Not till you tell me what's wrong Jamie," said Alison stubbornly.

"It's Albus okay," he said finally, "I miss my brother." It was the truth, he missed Albus. He missed the boy who used to crawl into his bed after having a nightmare when they were kids; he missed the boy who used to follow him around all the time at home; he missed his brother. And he was worried about Al; something had changed in his brother since Harry had hit him. He wasn't sure of it at first but on more than one occasion he had walked in on Albus practicing wandless magic, an impressive feat for a twelve year old. It wasn't what scared him though, what terrified him was that Al's magic seemed so much darker these days – he tried to dismiss the idea, but he just couldn't shake the darkness he himself had been struck with after Harry's assault.

"Oh James," she said sadly, putting a comforting hand around his shoulder, "He's a Slytherin, you know what they're like."

"He's still my brother," said James petulantly, "I hate that he has to suffer through this alone."

"He isn't your brother anymore Jamie," she said softly, "He's one of them."

(*)(*)(*)

"I want daddy!" cried Hugo, sobbing freely on his new bed at Malfoy Manor. Draco had convinced Hermione to move into the Manor a week after her confrontation with Ron, when the Weasel had finally sobered up and made Hermione's infidelity public knowledge. The fallout had been catastrophic; she had been living at the penthouse of her hotel in Diagon Alley, _The Rose, _and it wasn't safe for her to be in public anymore. Not now that Ron had the majority of wizarding England baying for her blood. The wards and enchantments surrounding the Manor gave her a sense of security she needed for her ten year old son.

"I know sweetheart," said Hermione gently, not knowing how to break it to a ten-year-old that his father wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Now that Hermione had finally lifted the glamour of her son, his hair was sleek and platinum blonde, his cheekbones were higher; his eyes were a brilliant cyan blue, chased through with Malfoy silver.

"Where is he?" sobbed the young boy, his tears breaking Hermione's heart.

"He isn't coming," said Draco as he walked into the room, taking a seat beside his biological son and putting a comforting hand on the boys shoulder. Hugo had written Ron twice a day, every day, since Hermione had moved out and hadn't gotten a single reply.

"I'm not going to lie to you Hugo," said Draco in a serious voice, "Ron isn't coming, he doesn't want to come. It isn't your fault kid; that much is a fact." Hugo stopped crying and contemplated the older man's words.

"Daddy doesn't want to see me?" he asked quietly.

"No," said Draco, "But do you love your mother?"

"Of course I do, she's my mum," said Hugo.

"Your daddy hit her," he said carefully, looking at Hermione to see whether he was going too far. She just nodded at him to continue, whatever Draco was doing seemed to be working wonders for her son.

"He hit you?" Hugo directed the question at his mother, eyes widening in disbelief. Hermione nodded softly, wrapping her hand around his shoulder. She didn't want to colour her children's perception of Ron badly but they had to understand that the man wanted nothing to do with them anymore. Hermione had sent him a custody schedule and arrangement from her lawyer, which was mutually beneficial to both parties – Ron had torn it to shreds before granting her full custody. His stereotypical views had not stopped him from alienating his nephew, but Hermione had hoped that he would maintain a relationship with Rose and Hugo. She had been mistaken.

She had been sacked the day the scandal hit the papers, apparently the Ministry couldn't have any of its department heads involved in adultery. Harry, whom was supporting Ron in his public vendetta against her, had succeeded her as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. In his opinion, she had betrayed them and should be locked up in Azkaban. Ron had taken his brother in laws former position as Head Auror and within days the entire division was in shambles under his leadership, Harry having to struggle to maintain the entire department along with the Aurors. This did not surprise Hermione; her ex-husband was a follower – not a leader. Ginny had been marginally more understanding, although her loyalty lay with her brother rather than her former sister-in-law and had asked that Hermione keep her distance from the family for the time being at least. She was furious that Ron had been betrayed by his wife, but Ginny didn't see the world through rose-tinted spectacles and had long had her suspicions. Of the entire Weasley family, she had received daily Howlers from Molly Weasley – these days she just blasted them to dust with her wand before they could start screaming – and the only members of her former family who still wrote to her were her daughter and her nephew Albus, both of whom were largely sympathetic to her. Albus personally could identify would what it was like to be alienated from the family and Hermione was shocked by the things Draco told her about her nephews treatment.

"I don't want to see anyone who hurt my mummy," said Hugo firmly, wiping away his tears as he hugged his mother.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Thoughts?

This story is mainly based on the idea that prejudice and bigotry can corrupt even the greatest of heroes, the concept behind this story is that the Order could never let go of their hatred of the Slytherins and Death Eaters and it grew over the years. I find it hard to believe that the Second Wizarding War ended and everyone just became pals and there was no more house rivalry.


	7. Chapter 6

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Six**

**Bittersweet**

Lily Luna Potter eagerly shoved her way into the train, anger at her father fading as she sought out her estranged cousin Hugo. Her father had taken her aside before the train departed and warned her against both Albus and Hugo, claiming that it would be safer and better for her to join Gryffindor and be a good girl. She found his attitude intolerable and she didn't care what he said, Hugo and her were just three weeks apart and had been the best of friends since their diaper days while Albus would be her brother till the day she died. She decided to ignore her father, deciding to follow Albus' path and let the Sorting Hat make the choice for her. And then, if she somehow became a Slytherin she dared her father to treat her like he treated Albus.

Suddenly she felt someone yank on her arm and she found herself pulled into an empty compartment, faced with Rose and Albus, both of them wielding grim expressions on their thirteen year old faces.

"When the hat asks you to choose," said Albus urgently, "I want you to choose Gryffindor."

"He's right," muttered Rose beside him, "You need to join the lions; for your own safety." Sometimes it was hard to remember that Rose was a Ravenclaw, she spent so much of her time with the Slytherins. It was harder to believe that she was half-Malfoy but she had taken it in stride and had recently had her last name changed to Granger. She bore no ill will to her father (both of them) but wanted to be her own person; without the undeserved glory that she gained by being a Weasley or the stigma that was attached to the Malfoys.

"I want to let the Hat choose," Lily said stubbornly, "I don't mind being in Slytherin."

"But I do mind you becoming a snake," scowled Albus, "I don't want you in Slytherin Lily, you don't want to have to put up with dads shit for the rest of your life." He flicked his wand, obscuring the compartment windows so that nobody could look in on them before Rose hit the door with a locking charm. A second flick of his wand and his glamours dropped, showcasing the numerous bruises and scrapes across his arms and face. A black eye came into view, marring his emerald eyes with its brutality. Lily gasped in horror; she had never known that her father actually _hit_ Albus.

"You don't want to be in Slytherin Lily," said Rose quietly, averting her eyes from her male cousin, she had known, she had seen them when Albus came to visit the Manor for a week during the holiday and Hermione (a master of casting glamour charms) had noticed that he was completely shrouded in them. Hermione and Draco had been furious; Draco in particular had suffered abuse from Lucius and knew from painful experience what it was like. Draco had begun to see Albus a third son and Hermione was ready to charge into Grimmauld Place with her wand drawn and cruciate her former best friend. But after much pleading on Albus' part they had let the matter rest, they all knew how pointless it would be to go against Harry Potter; Saviour of the Wizarding World.

"Make sure the hat sorts you elsewhere," said Albus, his wand swirling as he began to reapply his charms. Lily nodded mutely, still aghast as she turned to leave the compartment.

"I'm really sorry Albus," she said meekly before walking away, "I love you."

"I know baby sister . . . I know," said Albus quietly, before setting off with Rose to find their fellow Outcasts.

(*)(*)(*)

"Potter, Lily," said Neville, the hall falling silent, dozens of eyes flitting between James and Albus, wondering whose loyalty their younger sister would choose. Albus and Scorpius straightened on their bench, both staring intently at the young girl with burning copper eyes and flaming red hair, a few shades darker than the usual Weasley red.

Despite having warned his sister about becoming a Slytherin, Albus couldn't let go of the wary hope that she would be joining him in the House of Green and Silver. The morbid desire was fuelled by the fact that he assumed Harry would stop treating him so poorly if one of his siblings was in his house as well but at the same time he didn't dare condemn his sister to his own fate. The last holiday at home had been his worst yet, he had spent a week at the Manor and had stayed with Teddy for a fortnight but when he was home his father was worse than ever. Coupled with what he deemed as Hermione's betrayal, the stress of having heading a department and his own marital problems he had taken to drinking – not excessively, just a glass of firewhiskey before bed every night – but when Uncle Ron was over the two would proceed to get thoroughly drunk and when his father was drunk . . . he would vent his frustrations on his _disappointing, shameful, useless _Slytherin son.

James wasn't any better, he didn't beat Albus or insult him . . . No, what James did was worse; he knew what was happening behind closed doors, he walked past Albus being jinxed and cursed in the hallways at school, he saw the bruises on his brothers face when the upper-year Gryffindors were done with him and yet James didn't lay a finger to help him. It hurt him, more than any slap from his father ever could, it hurt that James simply didn't care.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Albus stiffened; his last hopes for having a family member beside him fading away as his sister's black tie became striped with blue and bronze. Scorpius patted him reassuringly on the arm, Xavier gave him a sympathetic look and he felt Kat squeeze his wrist.

"At least she's not a Gryffindork," said Delphin from his seat across the table, beside Xavier.

Albus took a shaky breath and smiled weakly at his friends.

"I guess it'll be easier for her this way . . ." he concluded sadly.

(*)(*)(*)

"Trelawney is such a bloody bat," scowled Scorpius, plopping down beside his friends and glaring at his divination textbook. Nobody commented, he had been very vocal about his love for the subject last year when they were choosing their electives; obviously it was not as good as he had expected.

"If she predicts my death one more time I swear I'm going to hex her," muttered Albus as he fell in beside Scorpius, smiling at Cassiopeia from her perch across from him. Since they had rescued her the previous year she had become increasingly attached to the Outcasts, to the point where she now spent most of her free time with them rather than the students in her own year group. Albus on the other hand would have preferred she keep her distance, he had been having strange dreams lately and he didn't need to be a seer to predict that Scorpius would punch him in the face for wanting to snog his baby sister.

"At least you lot don't have Care of Magical Creatures," sighed Xavier, his robes still splattered with mud from his earlier lesson involving a skittish unicorn and a pair of fire-crabs. To make matters worse it had been pouring with rain the entire week.

"Tough mate," grinned Delphin, "Maybe you shouldn't have tried mud-wrestling with Boot." Xavier flushed a bright red at the innuendo.

"We weren't mud-wrestling," he spluttered in indignation, "She landed on top of me when that bloody unicorn kicked her!"

"You enjoyed it though," smirked Delphin, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, maybe a little," Xavier admitted, still bright red as he hid his face behind his textbook. The rest of them were laughing loudly at their friend, except for Kat who suddenly got to her feet and announced she was tired before stomping crossly up to her dorm.

"What's biting her arse?" asked Delphin, amusement evident in his voice.

"Isn't it obvious," said Cass, flinging a cushion at the older boy which caused a bottle of ink to tip over onto him, splattering his olive skin with midnight blue, "She fancies Xav!"

"She does?" asked the boy in question, seemingly perking up as his eyes peeked out warily over the top of his book (which was being help upside down). Scorpius, Albus and Delphin roared with laughter at their friend, really it was so obvious to everyone that Kat had been smitten since they were in their first year.

"Boys," muttered Cass, "They never can take a hint," she shot a pointed look at Albus which caused Scorpius to turn and glare at his best mate suspiciously.

"Why did she look at you when she said that?" he asked after his younger sister had packed her bag and gone to check to see if Kat was okay before going to bed.

"I don't know mate," said Albus quickly, he let out a shaky laugh, "Women, they're all barking mad."

(*)(*)(*)

Hugo grinned up at his half-brother, laughing lightly at the sight of Scorpius drenched in stinksap. His latest detention, completely unwarranted by the way – he had been late to class because a pair of seventh year Hufflepuffs had hit him with a tripping jinx; Professor Longbottom was not sympathetic – had involved having to clean the entirety of Greenhouse two.

"Tergeo," said Hugo, winking at Scorpius' appreciative look as the sap disappeared. Hugo had a particular penchant for cleaning and healing charms, two concepts that Scorpius had never learned. He had been attached at the hip to the Outcasts since being sorted into Slytherin, the bullying he that Albus had received in his first year paled in comparison to what Hugo was being made to go through so it was no surprise when the Outcasts closed ranks around him. Hugo was a Slytherin, like them, and more importantly he was Scorpius' brother, meaning that he was family.

"Thanks Hugh," groaned Scorpius as he sank into the couch beside him, "Longarse is a bloody prat."

"What did he do now?" asked the first year, he was no stranger to Neville's cruelty. The fact that he was a Malfoy born out of wedlock to _Hermione_ of all people had instantly meant that he was worth less than dragon dung in herbology class.

"He had Elena doing lines," snarled Scorpius angrily, referring to his fellow third year. The Outcasts were not particularly close to Elena, who was very girly and prone to giggling fits. They had her back when she needed it and they could be termed friends but they never really hung out with her or her best friend, Isabella Goyle. Nevertheless, the sense of loyalty and kinship within Slytherin House ensured that they were all fiercely protective of each other. Albus and Xavier were at this moment in detention for hexing Alison Longbottom – after she had hit Isabella Goyle with a balding charm.

"That doesn't sound so bad," said Hugo comfortingly.

"With a blood quill," added Scorpius, causing the younger boy to fall silent immediately. It was a well known fact amongst the Slytherins that Neville kept a set of blood quills specially reserved for their house. It was also well known that he never used them on the students from the other houses.

"Dad owled," said Cass, breaking the tense silence as she came to sit beside them holding a letter, "He wants to know if we're coming home this Easter."

"I went home for Christmas," said Scorpius, "I can't bail on Albus again; Delphin stayed on Christmas."

"Why doesn't he just come with us?" asked Hugo, rolling his eyes when Scorpius leapt up in delight. Really, the guy seemed to be on a permanent sugar high for most of his life. Hugo absently wondered if that was the reason Cass forbade Scorpius from having second helpings of dessert.

"That is a brilliant idea!" declared the eldest Malfoy present.

"Genius," Cass smacked her brother upside the head, causing him to look affronted, "How are we going to get him home without his parents knowing and stopping him."

"What they don't know won't hurt them," said Hugo slyly causing Scorpius to beam proudly, his little brother was really growing into his Slytherin cunning.

(*)(*)(*)

"I can't believe we managed to pull that off," laughed Albus as they arrived at the manor, Draco and Hermione both looking very tired from the apparition. It took a lot of energy to carry somebody along with you, more so when you carried multiple people. With the seven of them needing to return from the Manor, Draco and Hermione had taxed themselves greatly by apparating five children with them.

"I was sure we would get caught when James came into the compartment," giggled Rose, helping her mother over to the sofa.

"Good thing Hugo's good with glamours," praised Scorpius as he handed two glasses of water to his father and future stepmother, they accepted the drinks gratefully whilst Hugo grinned impishly in appreciation. He had inherited his mother's penchant for illusion charms and could cast them with ease.

"I seriously hate you for making me look like a girl," said Albus in a faux angry voice, glaring as the youngest Malfoy, "seriously, where the breasts really necessary?" Rose and Scorpius roared with laughter, Cass had a broad grin on her face.

"No," said Hugo, a smirk playing on his face, "But it was damn funny watching Seth Finnigan hit on you." This time they all burst out laughing, even the adults who just exchanged amused glances at their children's antics.

(*)(*)(*)

The library of Malfoy Manor was still and quiet as he walked in, that was to be expected this late at night. Hurriedly he found the book he had been looking for and walked back to the room he shared with Scorpius whenever he visited. It wasn't that there was a shortage of rooms in the Manor, Merlin alone knew how many empty bedrooms littered the upper floors but Scorpius insisted that Albus was not a guest and thus didn't need to sleep in a guest room. Besides, the blonde enjoyed having his best friend close at hand to discuss potential pranks.

He stepped onto the balcony, savouring the cool midnight air as he delved into his jacket pocket for the muggle cigarette he had taken from Draco's office. He had seen his Uncle Ron smoke them on occasion and whenever he had asked his uncle for the reason he smoked Ron would tell him the same thing, "It's very relaxing Al."

Albus needed a bit of relaxation now, especially so close to Christmas. The festive holiday was always difficult for him, especially considering how much he had once loved the holiday and spending it with his family at the Burrow. But apart from his mother, Uncle George, Teddy and his grandmother Molly, nobody in his family sent him gifts anymore. The Malfoy's always did, but it didn't really count – they were his friends not his family. It wasn't that Albus wanted the presents; he would have been content to just receive a card from his cousins and uncles; he just wanted them to accept him. Was that so hard?

_Who would accept a person like you?_

The snide voice in his head was at it again, without hesitation Albus lit the cigarette with his wand and inhaled deeply, the acrid taste of smoke filling his lungs. He coughed harshly, unable to breathe for a moment before regaining his composure. The second pull wasn't as bad; he choked slightly on the smoke but didn't cough.

Uncle Ron was right.

It was very relaxing.

(*)(*)(*)

"That was the most exhausting holiday I have ever had," sighed Draco, reclining in bed beside Hermione, who had her nose buried in a book. Despite being fired from her Ministry job she had flourished in her new profession as a private lawyer; word had quickly gotten around about how well she had handled her own divorce and managed to keep everything she owned– not having to pay Ron a single knut – and she was no incredibly famous amongst pure-blood witches seeking to divorce unfaithful or abusive husbands. There was also the fact that Hermione was licensed to practice law in both worlds; magical and muggle; and in seven countries worldwide. She also held the honour of never once losing a case in her sixteen years of practicing magical law in some capacity or another.

"Never had such a full house?" smiled Hermione. In addition to their own four children and Albus, whom Draco had come to think of as his own, the rest of their school friends had been regular visitors to the manor.

"Never," he groaned, "But it was nice having so many children around, I know how hard it was being an only child with no friends when I was young."

"The Outcasts," said Hermione, "It's a fitting name for their group."

"I'm worried about groups that have names," muttered Draco under his breath, flexing his arm that was branded with the now dormant dark mark, "They all carry a lot of hate for such young people."

"The Death Eaters will never rise again Draco," Hermione assured her fiancé, "They needed a sense of belonging and they found one; of course they're angry and resentful, ask yourself when any of them have been treated as equals outside the protection of Slytherin House or the Manor?"

"It's not that I don't support them, I'm just worried," said Draco quietly, "I never knew my son and daughter actually felt like he was an outcast from society."

"Draco," said Hermione softly, putting her book down and leaning her head against his shoulder, "We're all Outcasts, neither of us can show our face in public without getting verbally assaulted too some extent." Draco sighed, knowing it was true but not liking the fact.

"I thought things would be better after the war," said Draco, pressing his lips to her forehead, "Instead they're so much worse."

"The war solved a lot of problems," she said knowledgably, her hand tracing its way up his thigh, "It also caused plenty of new ones. I don't like it but you and I both know that there's a fight coming . . . There's only so many times you can kick a dog before it bites back . . . And if that fight comes I know which side I'm going to be on."

"Which is that?" asked Draco, his arm snaking around the small of her back and drawing her close.

"Whichever side you're on," she said and he pulled her in for a searing kiss as clothes were divested and their bodies writhed together in the ecstasy of their love-making.

(*)(*)(*)

A small whimper woke him. James woke from his dreams of Quidditch to find a slender figure at the side of his bed. The elder boy squinted in the dim light, eventually realising it was his little brother. Annoyed at being woken, he turned on his bedside light and flinched at the sight before him.

His baby brother, face bruised and puffy, eyes red and bloodshot, a light gash above his right eye, slowly trickling blood down his swelling cheek stood shivering beside his bed. James sat up and pulled his brother down beside him, absently noting the battered stuffed lion the younger boy was clutching. The lion had been Teddy's and then James' and had finally passed on to Albus, and Harry had once joked that it was waiting for Teddy to have children before it passed on again. That had been before, in that distant time when their father still laughed and joked around both of them – now his smiles and chuckles were reserved for Lily and James – and Albus always tried his best to show that it didn't affect him. _He shouldn't have to, _thought James to himself sadly, _no fourteen year old should._ Albus' birthday had just passed and it had been a quiet affair, Ginny had wanted to invite his friends over but Al had been adamant not to. Their mother had no idea as to what had motivated his son to not want his friends over but had let the matter rest after Albus had pleaded for two days straight.

"Did dad do that?" James asked a teary faced Albus, who clutched the lion tighter. He hadn't seen Al so much as take the lion down from its place on the shelf for the past eight years. He had never seen Al look so vulnerable as when he nodded, clinging onto his brother like a life-line.

"I'm sorry Al," said James quietly, rubbing his brothers back.

"He's never made me bleed before . . ." whispered Albus, the gash above his eye had begun to clot but his face was still marred with congealing blood. James got up from the bed in a hurry, walking to his bathroom and coming back five minutes later with a pain potion, a bowl of water and a white face-cloth.

"What did I do to make him hate me so much?" asked Albus in a soft, lifeless voice as his brother began to clean his face with the damp cloth, tenderly washing away the drying blood. He had no answer to give Albus, so he just handed the younger boy the pain potion and continued cleaning the gash. Drawing his wand, he quickly muttered "Episkey," the split flesh quickly knitting together.

Albus leaned against his brother's chest, feeling strangely safe as he cried into his big brothers shoulder. He wished that James could be like this every night, that when the morning came they wouldn't have to go back to what had become the perverse normalcy that was his life. A life in which his father beat him for being a Slytherin, his brother didn't care, a life in which he was slowly slipping, not wanting to pull himself back up. It was just a bit of harmless fun he would tell himself, a release from the pain he had to deal with every day, because just a little bit of dark magic every once in a while was soothing and numbed him. What could it hurt? He wasn't practising the unforgivable, just basic conjuration of _bonefyre_. It was just a bit of harmless fun, a way to soothe his frayed emotions. It had begun with the cigarettes . . . but it hadn't taken Albus long to discover that dark magic was a much better way of becoming numb to the world.

"Can I stay here tonight," he asked quietly.

"Here," said James, tossing his brother a pillow. Both boys settled down in bed, Albus was half asleep when he heard James soft snores fill the room, shifting slowly so his arm was around his younger brother, James murmured blearily in his sleep, "Still my baby brother Al." Albus fell asleep with a smile, both boys wishing in their dreams that the night would last forever.

The morning came too soon.


	8. Chapter 7

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Seven**

**The Outcasts**

"Xavier . . . oh god," a loud moan split the dormitory, waking Albus, who blearily rubbed his eyes to find Scorpius and Delphin sitting on either side of him, both looking disgusted and amused.

"Oh fuck Kat . . ." the second voice was definitely Xavier's, but none of the three boys had ever heard it sound so devoid of cynic and sarcasm and yet so . . . lustful.

"About time you woke up," smirked Scorpius, glaring reproachfully down at his friend, "We need a silencing charm cast on that bed and you're the only one who isn't complete pants at charms."

"Xav and Kat are . . . oh Merlin," Albus groaned, reaching for his wand. It was their first night back at Hogwarts for their fifth year and he was very full after the Welcoming Feast and quite exhausted. Two of his best friends finally overcoming their shyness and pent up sexual tension was not what he had in mind for the first day back. Finally, he found his wand on his bedside table and muttered, "Silencio Maxima," instantly dimming the sounds of sex.

"Fucking like bunnies," said Delphin cheerfully, patting Albus on his head, "Can't say it's not disgusting, she's like our sister and he's like our brother. Its incest is what it is."

"You're a pureblood mate," pointed out Scorpius.

"So?" asked Delphin, not quite seeing the hypocrisy of his earlier statement.

"You were born of incest," sighed Albus, now was not the time to debate such matters. Now was the time to sleep.

"I have never been so insulted in my life," declared Delphin dramatically, stalking off to his bed, before turning and coming back, "Ok you may have a point."

"Never thought it would be Xavier to get a girl in bed first," said Scorpius, Albus groaned, why did his friends hate sleep?

"Yeah, I thought it would me, then you, then Xav, then Hugo and then Albus," said Delphin in a matter of fact voice.

"Hey!" Albus thumped his friend, "Why am I last?"

"Because we're all whorish and stuff," said Scorpius as if pointing out the obvious.

"And you're all virginal and stuff," pointed out Delphin with a raised eyebrow.

"Would you three idiots shut up and go to bed! You're killing the mood!" screamed Kat from behind the closed bed-curtains. Delphin scurried off to his bed as fast as his legs could carry him; he had a healthy respect for their female friends hexing abilities. Scorpius paused for a moment before leaning over Albus and speaking in a low voice:

"You were whispering my sisters name in your sleep," Scorpius held his hand up to silence his friend when Albus made to protest, "No I'm not angry, she's old enough to know what she wants and I'm not blind, you obviously fancy her but listen up. Life isn't going to be easy for either of you but you're smart enough to know that by now, just think of what your father put you through. The Slytherin Potter and the Malfoy Heiress getting together will be scorned by everyone out there and you know it. I'm not saying that you should stay away from her, because if she likes you as much as you like her then go for it. But honestly Albus, you're my best mate and you may be more powerful than me but she's my sister and if you break her heart I will hurt you." Without another word Scorpius walked to his bed leaving Albus to think about what his best friend had just said.

(*)(*)(*)

"Today we will be practicing duelling," said Professor Lupin with his usual endearing smile, "It has come to my attention that whilst you have received significant knowledge and experience in spellwork, Professor Creevy had not had you trained in combat, which you will need for your OWL at the end of the year."

Teddy had taken the post of Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor following Dennis Creevy leaving Hogwarts in favour of a new job at the Ministry, where he now worked under Harry in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Albus had been quite pleased that Teddy was now teaching at Hogwarts, he had always been his favourite sibling because he never judged. He listened to your problems and then gave sound advice on the subject. Even though Albus had become quite distant with the metamorphmagus over the years following his Sorting he knew that he could always count on his god-brother in a way that he couldn't rely on James.

There was a hum of excitement through the room; Teddy had instantly become one of the student's favourite teachers due to his hands-on approach to the subject and his quirky personality. The fact that he was a former auror helped. He had left the Auror department after Victoire had fallen pregnant in the summer. It was another reason for Albus to hate Harry; his father had not allowed him to go to their wedding. Lily had shown him the memories later, when their father was at work, but it just wasn't the same.

"You will be practicing in pairs," Teddy added as an afterthought before motioning for his students to stand.

Before the hour was up, it couldn't be denied that the Slytherins were the most formidable fighters in the class. Scorpius had disarmed and stunned his opponent before she could so much as draw her wand; Delphin had petrified Roxanne Weasley effortlessly; Xavier had hesitantly stunned Kat – "A spout of domestic abuse," quipped Delphin before falling silent at the look on Albus' face – but there was no comparing them to the skill and power possessed by the youngest Potter. He duelled two on one (one of his opponents was Rose Granger, the best witch in their year), effortlessly blocking their jinxes and returning their assault with his own. Within five minutes he had them flat on their backs and had winked at Teddy, a friendly challenge.

The metamorphmagus raised an eyebrow but obliged, stepping forwards and drawing his wand as the class fell silent, watching in awe as Albus duelled their professor. Teddy found himself shocked by the power the younger boy possessed, in the end he had just been able to overwhelm him – and he had just begun his fifth year, whereas Teddy was a fully trained Auror – by stunning Albus in the face. For a brief second the glamour charms surrounding the younger boy shifted and Teddy could see the fading bruises, old enough that they had definitely been obtained during the summer, and then the charms snapped back into place. He wasn't sure if he had imagined it, nobody else in the class seemed to have noticed.

"Mr. Potter," said Teddy, quickly releasing Albus from the stunning spell, "A word after class if you will."

The class ended soon after that and the students bustled of, excitedly talking about their experiences and the iconic duel between Albus and Teddy. Teddy frowned in consternation as he detected the barest glimmer across Albus' face; had he not been looking he wouldn't have noticed but now he was sure of it. Albus was wearing multiple glamour charms over his face.

"Why are you wearing glamours Al?" asked Teddy once the last student had filed out of the room, he quickly silenced and locked the door to prevent them being overheard or interrupted.

"If you're asking then you certainly know how I look without them," said Albus bitterly, avoiding his god-brother's eyes.

"Who's been hurting you?" he asked, dreading the answer but needing to know. He hoped it wasn't who he thought it was.

"I can't tell you that Teddy," said Albus, and the Teddy was sure that the regret in his tone was not imagined.

"I don't want you to be in danger Albus," said Teddy gently, "Can you please tell me?"

"You asking these questions is putting me in danger!" snapped Albus, fearfully looking around the empty room to see if someone was watching them or listening in. The boy hastily turned on his heel and walked to the door, flicking his wand to remove the locking charm.

"One more thing Al," called Teddy urgently, "Where did you learn to duel like that?"

"I'm an Outcast Teddy," he said from the doorway, not turning his head but gazing resolutely at the corridor before him, "I've had to learn to protect myself."

Teddy frowned as the younger boy walked away, he was sure that he had imagined it. But during the duel with Albus he could have sworn that, had he not known any better, Albus was fighting using dark magic.

Pushing the absurd notion aside he turned and walked up to his office to floo-call his heavily pregnant wife.

(*)(*)(*)

_Dear Katherine and Xavier_

_We, The Outcasts (or the three who have to share a dorm room with lover-boy over here) have had enough of being kept awake at night because of your incessant shagging. You two both know silencing charms – USE THEM!_

_Albus would like to remind you that it is our OWL year and that he spends most of the night studying, sadly he cannot accomplish this when you two are going at it like bunnies. He also points out that unlike the rest of us rich pure-blood brats (Hey! We resent that) (Shut up Scorpius) he needs good results as his father will likely kick him out as soon as he turns seventeen. _

_Scorpius is of the opinion that Albus should just move into the Manor and be done with it but that is beside the point, he would like to remind you that whenever he brings girls over he politely asks Albus to cast a silencing charm on his bed. He does not do this to show off that he is getting laid but rather because he does not know how to cast the charm – nevertheless if he can make the effort then so can you two._

_Delphin states that he views you both as siblings and he does not, nor will he ever need to know that Kat enjoys being lic– (Delphin! You cannot write that!) (Sorry Rose). At any rate, he urges you both to take into account his delicate sensibilities and that he needs his beauty sleep. _

_Rose would merely like to point out that if she ever catches the two of you in the library doing "that" again she is going to hex you both into oblivion for befouling her beloved books. _

_Hugo would like to point out that using the common room at midnight because you think its deserted is not a good compromise. The first years who had detention with Flich last Monday and got to the dormitory late that night will never be the same again._

_Cass would like to state that she doesn't care as long as you two keep it out of her dormitory. She does however care when Xavier tries playing footsie under the breakfast table and kicks her by accident. _

_Seriously Guys, You know the damn Silencing Charm. USE IT!_

_Sincerely _

_The Outcasts_

_P.S. This letter was Scorpius' idea –Do not hex Albus and I(Delphin)_

"Uhm guys . . ." said Albus quietly, looking at a very red-faced Xavier and a murderous looking Kat.

"What Al?" asked Scorpius, not looking up from his parchment as he scribbled out the uses of dragon's blood in potion making.

"Kat is coming this way and she looks mad," he said, eyes widening as a jet of orange light sailed passed his head.

"RUN!" screamed Delphin, abandoning his books and taking off with a speed that would make a cheetah jealous.

(*)(*)(*)

"Why are you crying Cass," asked Albus, his face taking in the porcelain girl, wet tears streaming down her angelic face as she cradled her right hand. And in that moment Albus knew.

"C'mon," he whispered gently, lifting her into his arms, his arms hooked around the small of her back and the crook of her knees as she wept into his shoulder, the blood from her cut hand staining the front of his shirt. A blood quill. There was only one teacher in Hogwarts who used them. He carried her up to his dormitory and set her down on his bed before uncorking a bottle of murtlap essence and straining it into a bowl. The look in her eyes was a wordless thanks as she dipped her hand in the pale yellow liquid, the pain in her face fading as she felt the solutions soothing sensation wash over her hand. Already the essence was darkening, filling with scarlet. For a moment Albus could read the words, deeply carved into her otherwise pale skin – a red ruin across the back of her hand.

_I must remember my place._

And he saw red, not because of the blood which filled the bowl, but because it was Cass who was wounded. Cass who was crying. Cass who had been wronged and hurt and punished in one of the most vile and reprehensible manners known to man.

Cassiopeia Astoria Malfoy.

Whom he loved.

Had been forced to cut open her own flesh to appease a sick, prejudiced professor.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice fragile and broken, her tears slowly drying as he held her, her head resting on her shoulder as her hand healed in the bowl on the bedside table beside her.

"What happened Cass?" he asked, stroking her back.

"Longbottom . . . detention . . . stood up for myself in class . . ." she managed through her sobs, looking vulnerable and utterly destroyed. Cassiopeia had always been outspoken, never willing to concede a point in which she knew she was right. Draco had always warned her it would one day lead her to trouble and he had been right. Albus had no doubts that if Cass had spoken up for herself when Neville began his usual victimisation then the older man would have no qualms about causing her physical harm.

"Shhh . . ." he said, holding her close, "I'll protect you. Nobody will ever hurt you again. I promise." And then she kissed him, her soft lips dancing against his own, he could taste her tears on his tongue as she allowed him entry into her mouth, pausing only to nip at his lower lip, causing a drop of blood to smudge across their bruising lips. He felt her hand, healed yet still painful, lose itself in his dishevelled raven hair and he followed suit, fingers trailing through the silky platinum blonde that cascaded down her back.

"Thank you," she murmured against his lips when they finally broke apart for air, before he laid his lips against hers again.

(*)(*)(*)

"Draco," muttered Hermione anxiously, hefting the books she had found in Albus' room and slamming them down on her husband's desk. Their wedding ceremony had been an intimate one, privately witnessed by only their family and Draco's close friends. Scorpius had stood as best man, Rose as the maid of honour . . . they had written their own vows. Hermione remembered his vows word for word; she doubted she would ever forget them till the day she died.

_After the war I was left with nothing. My mother was lost in grief over losing most of her family; she lost the will to live soon after. My father was in Azkaban, no matter how much I hated the man he was still my father and when he died I was truly alone. But you gave me something to believe in after all that I had been through, you gave me a hope that there would be a better future for me. You gave me love, something that I have rarely known in my entire life. _

_Hermione I love you, I have loved you for nineteen years. I vow to always love and cherish you, to protect your heart even if it means stopping my own. I vow to be faithful and loving in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, from this day to my last day. You were my first true love . . . and you'll also be my last. I am yours Hermione, now and forever._

"What is it?" he grimaced at the force with which she dropped the books onto his table, nearly upsetting an ink bottle.

"These were in Albus' room," she hissed, flipping the top most book open and turning to a page that had been bookmarked. Over the Easter Holidays during their fourth year, Albus had finally convinced his friend to let him sleep in one of the guest rooms. Scorpius had readily complied this time, he was older now and understood the need for privacy – he was grateful for it this year when he had begun sneaking girls in and he didn't have a roommate to kick out. Over time the guest room had become Albus' own room and he stayed in it whenever he visited the Manor; which was most of the time as he only spent brief periods at his own home during the Summer, usually returning covered in bruises and glamour charms. Ginny was still none the wiser to her sons beatings; Albus had pleaded with his sister not to say anything, James was torn between wanting to protect his brother and be loyal to his misguided father and Albus himself was terrified of telling Ginny himself in case Harry made good of his threat to break bones.

"That's . . ." Draco trailed of in horror at what he was reading.

"These are the personal grimoires of Bellatrix Lestrange," said Hermione grimly, trying to block out the horrors that she had seen in the many ghastly illustrations.

(*)(*)(*)

"What are you doing here snake?" snapped seventh year Joshua Jordan as he spied Albus Potter sitting cross-legged beside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"I'd like a word with my brother," sneered Albus, "Now be a good pussycat and go get him."

"I don't take orders from you snake," spat the older boy, drawing his wand, a hex on the tip of his tongue. Joshua was a tall seventeen year old who was one of his brothers best friends, his parents had both been in the Order of the Phoenix and the D.A and had passed on their anti-Slytherin prejudices to him. He was intelligent, good-looking and as nasty as they came, almost as bad as Seth Finnigan and Fred II Weasley, both of whom never passed up the opportunity to "put a Slytherin in their rightful place". Albus didn't know what had happened to Fred, his parents George and Angelina were two of the most unbiased people he knew.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Albus grinned evilly at the dark-skinned boy, "Hex me and the entire school finds out whom it is you spread your legs for every other night in the Room of Requirement shirtlifter."

Joshua paled, stowing his wand away quickly as he muttered the password to the Fat Lady – softly enough so that Albus couldn't hear – and disappeared through the portrait hole. Albus rolled his eyes as he smirked; the Gryffindors were too noble and honourable for their own good. The barest hint of blackmail was enough to send them packing, their tails between their legs. He had learned that lesson in his fourth year and pretty soon the Outcasts were holding snippets of incriminating information over half the school. The teachers had been amazed at the sudden change in the schools dynamics over the past few months, whereas once the Slytherins had been victimized and bullied by the other houses it now seemed that the Slytherins were treated with a grudging respect and a hint of fear. Minerva Mcgonagall turned a blind eye; to her it simply meant that there were less fights in the hallways and for that she was grateful.

"That was a low blow and you know it Al," said James snippily as he passed out the portrait hole. Joshua had been shaking violently at the thought of his carefully guarded secret being shared around the school. The boys in his dorm were the only ones he thought had known as they weren't homophobic and didn't give their friend any grief or insult because of his sexuality.

"Low blows are all we Slytherins have to protect ourselves," said Albus evenly, "Or have you forgotten all the times you Gryffindors hit us below the belt and then kept kicking us while we were down."

"Why are you here Al?" asked James tiredly, his NEWTs were coming up and he was exhausted at having to study for them so diligently. He looked at his brother, who was still seated cross legged on the floor below him and sighed. In the past year he had seen a change come over his brother, how he had stopped Albus and had started being Al. When James passes him in the corridors these days, Albus didn't so much as flick his gaze in recognition – even when James used to bully him, Albus had always forced himself to smile at his brother when they passed each other on their way to class – Al didn't do that. Al doesn't say anything, he avoids the rest of his family like they have the plague, except for Lily, he meets her in the kitchens for tea every Saturday afternoon. The one time James tried to join them, Albus fell silent and left as soon as he saw his brother, his cheerful smile quickly disappearing behind his emotionless mask. He carries himself with the same elegance as the other pure-bloods now, the same haughty demeanour that Malfoy and Zabini possess. James doesn't understand the sneering youth that used to be his brother, some days he isn't sure he wants to. Other days he remembers that it was his father who made his brother this way and more sickeningly that it had been him as well, him the older brother whose job was to protect and care for, who had forced Albus down this path.

"I came to wish you a happy birthday," said Albus, somewhat bitterly, "Or am I not allowed to do that either?" James flinched, his younger brother had sent him and his sister a singing Christmas card during the holidays (Albus had once more stayed at Hogwarts rather than go home) and Harry had responded with a Howler – declaring he needed to stop trying to poison his _decent_ siblings minds with his Slytherin venom.

"Thanks Al," said James, forcing himself to smile when all he felt was sad; terrible biting sorrow for his brother the stranger.

James Sirius Potter sometimes wonders if this is his fault, that maybe if he hadn't been taunting his brother so much about becoming a Slytherin on that first train ride to school; then maybe, just maybe things would be different.

Albus knows differently, he made his own choice, just like his father did. If his family couldn't accept it then he would find a new one and he had, he had found a family in Slytherin house.

They were called The Outcasts.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: You will notice that fourth year was skipped in this story, which is because nothing of significant import happened in that year and I wanted to speed things along slightly. It's getting a tad redundant writing about Al as a young vulnerable boy, as you've noticed this chapter has begun showing the change in him as he becomes older.


	9. Chapter 8

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Eight**

**Revelations**

Albus hurried to the kitchen, for once not bothering if his father or brother would be present, today was the day Hogwarts sent his OWL results and he had been on edge the entire holiday waiting for them; he hoped he had earned the required grades for his chosen career. It was his ambition to work in potions, he was quite good in the subject – nowhere near as good as Cassiopeia or Rose – but he still managed to average an Exceeds Expectations for his entire fifth year and was hoping that if he received the required grades he would be able to complete his NEWTS in his subjects and work at Malfoy Holdings in their Potions Department. As a potions master, jobs would be quite hard to come by, especially as he had no intention of working in the Ministry or at St. Mungo's; and whilst he would have liked to teach Potions at Hogwarts, Mcgonagall did not accept professors who hadn't had at least four years outside experience in their fields. Draco had been incredibly supportive of his goal and had even leant him some of his own potions books; the Malfoy patriarch was a potions prodigy, often compared by Slughorn to be as talented as the fabled Half-Blood Prince.

"You're up bright and early," commented Ginny as she bustled around the kitchen making breakfast, filling the house with the delicious scent of frying sausages and scrambled eggs. She, like her mother Molly, was a gourmet chef – something Molly claimed was due to both of them being the only girls in a family that had consisted of seven men (her father and six brothers) all of whom held hearty appetites. Ginny had wondered if the talent would pass onto Lily, but after the disaster that had given the entire family food poisoning earlier in the holidays, she had realised that Lily should never touch her beloved stove again.

"The OWL results are coming," said Albus nervously, "I hope I did ok." Harry scoffed in the background but fell silent after receiving a piercing glare from Ginny. In the Potter matriarch's opinion, her husband could do with a wakeup call; their youngest son was flourishing in Slytherin and the least he could be is supportive if not loving. Needless to say, Ginny was unaware of the physical beatings that went on behind her back as she was often at work when Harry decided to exercise his frustrations on Albus and by the time she returned her youngest son had already glamoured himself to hide his wounds.

"I'm sure you did great Al," said Ginny reassuringly, her son was after all one of the best students in his year, often missing out the top spot only to Rose Granger. But what could one expect from a daughter of Hermione and Draco – who had been the top two students in her husband's year.

"Yeah Al," yawned Lily, her hair a messy tangle, "You're brilliant, I would have failed my potions exam if you hadn't helped me study. You knew things even Slughorn didn't." Albus basked in his baby sister's praise, not caring for the furious look in his father's eyes in the slightest. He had warned him to stay away from his siblings because of his _corrupting influence_ but obviously he hadn't; if Lily needed his help he would give it, no matter how many beatings he received in payment. Though Lily didn't seem so much of a baby anymore, though fourteen and still petite she was rapidly growing into a beautiful young woman – not as beautiful as Cass of course, even though Albus was biased in the matter as he saw his girlfriend as the most beautiful girl in the world – and much to both James and his own chagrin, Lily had begun dating during the end of her fourth year and if there was one thing the estranged Potter brothers could agree on was that Lily was too young to date. Roland Sparx, a muggleborn fifth year from Ravenclaw had been quite terrified when James approached him at breakfast and then took him for a long walk around the grounds whilst discussing at length what would happen to him if he hurt Lily. This was followed by Albus catching him outside the Ravenclaw common room and using a levitation charm to suspend him over the edge of the Astronomy Tower whilst calmly informing him what would occur should he hurt the aforementioned baby sister.

Just as James walked in, a large barn owl swooped into the room and dropped a set of letters onto the middle of the table. It would seem Hogwarts had sent their book lists as well but Albus really didn't care about that, instead he grabbed for the envelope labelled:

_Mr. A. S. Potter_

_OWL Results_

Nobody in the kitchen spoke as Albus slit it open carefully and unfolded the parchment inside. James was smiling in remembrance of his own OWL results, he had been considerably more nervous than his brother was. James had recently applied to join the Aurors as he had just completed his seventh year of Hogwarts with six NEWTS. Lily grinned when she saw a broad smile break across Albus' face as he read and re-read the letter.

_Ordinary Wizarding Levels_

_Pass Grades: Outstanding (O); Exceeds Expectations (E); Acceptable (A) _

_Fail Grades: Poor (P); Dreadful (D); Troll (T)_

_Albus Severus Potter has Achieved_

_Astronomy: E_

_Charms: O_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts: O_

_Divination: P_

_Herbology: A_

_History of Magic: A_

_Potions: O_

_Transfiguration: E_

_Ancient Runes: E_

_The Mind Arts: O_

_Congratulations on your achievement Mr. Potter_

_Minerva Mcgonagall_

_Headmistress_

Albus' breathing became easier with each read through, it was good. He had passed everything except for Divination (and who cared for that rubbish anyway) and he had even managed to scrape an Acceptable in Herbology – a subject in which his Professor hated his house and regularly set the Slytherins up for failure. He had passed well in Astronomy, Ancient Runes and Transfiguration but best of all he had gotten four Outstandings! And one of them was in potions.

James let out an impressed whistle as he peered over his brothers shoulders to read the results, "Nine OWLS mate!" he declared, pulling his brother into a congratulatory hug; both boys forgetting their estrangement for just a moment before Albus stiffened and pulled away with a guarded look in his eyes. Lily clapped happily as she heard her brother's achievement and Ginny pulled him into a suffocating embrace, whispering how proud she was of him. Only Harry had a sour look on his face. Albus didn't pay him any attention . . . but oh how he should have.

(*)(*)(*)

Albus stumbled, his lip splitting under the force of his father's blow, falling to the ground and cradling his broken wrist. He was not allowed to have done so well as to be better than his father and brother it would seem, Albus had done wrong by doing so well, if he was a true Potter he would be destroying Slytherin from within not helping to win the house glory. Albus instantly knew his father was referring not just to his results, but to qudditch as well, as Albus – who played seeker on his house team, Scorpius was a beater, Hugo was keeper – had won a crushing defeat over Gryffindor in the final match of the school year, winning the House of Slytherin the Quidditch Cup for the first time in a decade.

"I am done with you insolence," spat Harry, "and don't think for a moment I don't know about you cavorting about with that Malfoy Whore, you disg –" Albus' uninjured fist crashed into his stomach, followed closely by a roundhouse kick that drove Harry to his knees. Magic crackled around Albus as he glared down at his father, fury etched upon every fibre of his being, his emerald green orbs dark and filled with black fire.

"Never," Albus snarled, his voice laced with power, "Never insult Cassiopeia Malfoy again!" He brought his knee up sharply, breaking his father's nose before turning on his heel and swiping his wand through the air, his school trunk opening hurriedly as his clothes and belongings began filling it.

"I have put up with your bullshit long enough," he hissed at Harry, who just sat on the floor before him stunned, Albus had never raised a hand to defend himself before, a flicker of what could be called guilt flickered across the older man's eyes before disappearing beneath his hate for Slytherin and all that it entailed, "I have put up with everything you dealt me for five years now but no more, I'm leaving and I won't be coming back."

"Go then, you Slytherin scum," snapped Harry, "Run to your ferret whor–" This time, the force of Albus' kick knocked him unconscious.

"I told you," said Albus in a barely controlled voice, "Never insult Cass again." Smirking lightly at his father's prone form on the ground, feeling a sick sense of vengeance as he took in the pitiful sight, he grabbed his trunk and broomstick and walked out the room, heading for the fireplace to floo to Malfoy Manor.

Three hours later, James Sirius Potter got home from his girlfriend, Alison Longbottom's, house and found his father cleaning up his bloody nose in the kitchen. His first thought was a strain of pride for his brother, who he was sure, had stood up to himself. Then it hit him, what had Harry done to Albus in return? Running, he took the stairs two at a time, shoving open his brother's room door and freezing at the sight.

The room was bare; every object that had once made this room personal to Albus was gone. The wardrobe was empty, every sneaker, every pair of jeans gone; the shelves and desk were bare, the photo frames were still up – a few were empty, James knew his brothers room well enough to realise that every photo of Albus with either Harry or James in it had been left behind. Except for one, the silver frame he had sent his brother on his first Christmas at Hogwarts was gone, the photo of three young boys, tangled together on the ground after a game of Quidditch.

_You're still my baby brother Al_, thought James sadly, before noticing one thing that had been left behind, noticeable only because the rest of the room was totally devoid of signs of life.

Lying on the floor, as if taken down from the shelf to be taken with him when he left and then flung aside as if Albus had thought better of it, was a battered, patched, stuffed plush lion.

(*)(*)(*)

Albus reclined on the couch, absently noting that Scorpius was talking about his latest girlfriend, whilst playing with Cass' soft hair, playfully twirling it around his fingers as she lay back against him, her head resting on his chest. Apart from Draco, who had taken him aside and given him the standard warning against hurting his daughter, the entire family had instantly warmed to the idea of Albus and Cassie seeing each other. Draco himself was keen on the idea because he trusted that Albus would look after his daughter and as he already saw Albus as one of his own; he laughingly joked to Hermione that pretty soon Albus would legally be his son (son-in-law but Draco didn't care for specifics). Hermione had rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm, reminding him that they may not work out but Draco was adamant about them, claiming that Albus looked at Cass the same way he looked at Hermione.

They had also had a stern discussion with Albus as to his choice of reading material and had warned him against the dangers of dark magic – Albus had listened respectfully, over the years he had come to see Hermione and Draco as his surrogate parents because they had always been there for him. The matter had been laid to rest after he had admitted to delving into the lighter side of dark magic out of curiosity but had assured them he would not be slipping any deeper into the topic because he himself had been horrified at some of the things he had read in Bellatrix's grimoire. Another thing Hermione found distasteful was Albus' smoking but she had begrudgingly not given him any further complaint after realising that it was simply his way of coping with his abusive father and estranged family. Instead she provided him with a potion that would clear his lungs and keep his habit from damaging his body in the long run. Cass had agreed to brew it for him on a monthly basis.

The fireplace burst into emerald flames, causing the three people in the room with the addition of Hermione who had just walked in with a tray of pumpkin juice to turn towards it. Albus visibly stiffened as Ginny walked out of the floo, her eyes reflecting relief at seeing her son. Then she recoiled, taking in the bruises and scars over her sons face and arms – seeing as he no longer needed to hide them, Albus had permanently dropped his glamours and let Hermione treat his wounds upon moving into the Manor – and this was the first time Ginny had seen them. Apart from the bruises, Albus' hand, the one that was not absently trailing through his girlfriend's hair was bound in a muggle cast. Albus had insisted it be allowed to heal naturally, as a painful, tangible reminder of his father's cruelty.

"Albus . . ." stammered Ginny in horror, "What happened to you?" Albus remained silent, but gazed imploringly at Hermione, giving her silent permission to inform his mother as to what had been going on behind closed doors.

"You should ask your husband," said Hermione quietly, setting the tray down on the coffee table and turning to face her former best friend. Realization flitted across Ginny's face as she took in Hermione's words.

"No . . ." murmured Ginny, sinking into one of the armchairs, "It was better . . . he swore he wouldn't treat Albus badly anymore . . . he didn't . . . he couldn't."

"I've been cleaning Albus up for the past four years," said Hermione brusquely, not feeling any empathy for the other woman. True, nobody had told her but as a mother she should have known. As a fully trained witch she should have noticed the glamours her son had always been shrouded in.

"Four years?" Ginny's eyes were filling with tears, "He hit you for four years?" she addressed the question at her son, noting with a pang that Cassiopeia and Scorpius were both standing protectively on either side of him, the girls hand gripped tightly around her sons wrist. From the look on her face, she was very obviously in love with Albus; a feeling that was apparently mutual judging by the way Albus had his injured arm on her waist. _How much more don't I know about my son?_ she thought regretfully, understanding with a pang that the two Malfoys seemed intent on protecting her son from her. Did they think she would hurt him? How could she? He was her own flesh and blood.

Albus nodded at her question, meeting her eyes dead on, "I'm not going back if that's why you're here mum," he added firmly.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Ginny said, closing her eyes to stop the tears from falling.

"Harry said that if he told you, it would be much worse for him," said Hermione, finally allowing herself to feel something other than contempt for Ginny.

The rest of the afternoon passed like that, with Ginny finding out everything her son had suffered over the years at his bigoted father's hands, she also learned about the cruelty that was going on at Hogwarts – she had cried freely when Cass had removed her silky black glove and shown the older woman the scars on the back of her hand – and of how James had known everything but hadn't breathed a word, of how Lily had been sworn to secrecy . . . by the end there was a harsh look in Ginny's eyes as she looked up at Hermione.

"Hermione," said Ginny firmly, "Do you still practice marital law?" When Hermione nodded in understanding, Ginny sighed deeply, "Draw up my divorce papers . . . I want full custody of Lily and Albus too if he'll have me."

"I love you mum," said Albus gravely, "But this is my home now. I'll be staying at the Manor even if you get custody of me."

"Draw up the papers Hermione," said Ginny softly, "I'm sorry it had to come to this son, but I'll respect your choice to remain here. I cannot begin to understand what you have gone through but know that I will always love you and that if I had known I would have killed him in his sleep." Albus smiled wanly at her as she took her leave, she wanted to hug him but something told her he would not permit it.

_Damn you Harry! Damn you for making me lose my son!_

_And Damn myself for failing as a mother . . ._

(*)(*)(*)

Albus slipped under his blankets, unable to get too sleep. His mother's reaction should ease his soul, but it had brought to his mind too many things that he had buried since leaving Grimmauld Place. From James' uncaring demeanour to his father's abuse, all coupled with concern for Ginny as she went through her divorce – Albus had seen firsthand how Ron had dragged Hermione's name through the mud when they had divorced, he knew that his mother would be in for a worse time. The name Ginevra Weasley still carried weight in the wizarding world but it was nowhere near the amount of standing Hermione had once had and yet Harry and Ron had succeeded in besmirching the brunette member of the Golden Trio all the same. His mind was playing table tennis, wondering which problem to confront first whilst all the while he just wished everything could go back down where it was buried.

The past three days had been perfect for him. Draco was everything a father should be, supportive, protecting and caring. Hermione was filling the motherly role in his life quickly, she was shocked at how starved for affection he actually was. Things had been strained at Grimmauld Place for a long time and Albus had been growing very distant with Ginny because of Harry. Hugo and Scorpius were like brothers to him, effortlessly replacing the brother he thought lost. Rose was part Lily, part Ginny, the perfect older sister even though she was only senior to him by a month.

And Cass, she fought away all of his fears. Her presence, so intoxicating to his senses was enough to dull the pain he had known his entire schooling life. There was nobody to compare her against, nobody whose void she filled – yet he couldn't imagine his life without her.

Tossing back and forth he fought for sleep, the day had been eventful and by all rights he should be exhausted. Yet his body wouldn't let him succumb to sleeps sweet embrace. It was one in the morning, he only had a few hours before he had to rise and face the new day. He felt the bed dip beside him as somebody climbed in, suddenly feeling an arm snake around him and he opened his eyes in surprise to see her head resting on his chest. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, moulding to one another perfectly.

"Sleep Albus," she murmured drowsily, her platinum hair a pillow over his firm chest as she held him. He loped an arm around her waist, holding her as she fell back to sleep.

Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply. He wasn't accustomed to sleeping in such a manner, holding his girlfriend, but he found it comforting to be so close to her. Sighing, he found sleep a few minutes later, encased in Cassiopeia's loving embrace.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Thoughts?


	10. Chapter 9

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Nine**

**A Group with a Name**

The black flames flickered in his palm, dancing and crackling with a malign wrath, the tips a deep purple, pure _bonefyre_, which burned darker and more powerful than its more common counterpart _fiendfyre;_ brimmed forebodingly in his grasp.

He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, his dormitory empty as it always was at this time of the week. Xavier and Delphin both had Care of Magical Creatures whilst Scorpius was in Divination; somehow the blonde boy had scraped an Acceptable during his OWL and been allowed to continue studying the irritating subject. It was his alone time, they only time when he could study the deeper arts on his own without interruption. He had been expressly forbidden from practising Dark Magic by Hermione when she had walked in on him last, he smirked at the memory, he had been attempting a summoning. He hadn't meant to, he had been determined to give up the dark practices but then . . . when he had went to return Bella's grimoire to the library at the Manor the book had fallen open to a page on shadows.

Oh and how it tempted him . . .

Shadows, spirits of the dead who were torn from their world by violence and murder, bitter in death as they had been in life, they made the perfect servants. Hermione had been horrified at what she had seen, she had made him swear to stay away from the subject . . . he had promised her, and then two weeks later he had found that he couldn't.

The need to feel the darkness had burned through his veins, filling him with a reckless zeal to discover the secrets of the forbidden and forgotten arts. He needed them, he needed the numbing sensation that only darkness could bring . . . it was a part of him, how could he leave it behind.

He was not addicted; he could stop at any time that he wished.

But he didn't want too, not now that he had true power. Power that had always been denied him, how often had he felt powerless beneath his father's clenched fists, how often had he been too weak to defend himself against the upper year Gryffindors in his youth. The darkness strengthened him; it made him powerful enough to protect himself and the people he loved.

He could feel the shadows, those that he had summoned and paid for with his blood, bound to his heart by ancient magic. He had suppressed them, his sheer will alone binding them to his beating heart to keep them captive. They were fickle phantasms, creatures with a will of their own – he had found that out to late, but it didn't matter . . . he was stronger than them. He could host them, all of them that he had summoned in his early ignorance, he was sure of it.

He was stronger now than he had been during his sixth year when first he had begun to truly descend into the dark arts. He remembered what had sprung the need to feel powerful, the desire to be strong. It had been Rose, her eyes teary as she clutched her hand to her chest, just as Cass once had. A blood quill. She was a Ravenclaw, she should have been safe but she hadn't – not when prejudice was so strong in their world.

It was what had given him the will to become powerful, the will to be strong enough to make a change in the world. He had seen it, over and over again, the suffering and the pain that his friends and loved ones had suffered at the hands of bigoted individuals such as his father. Now he was in his seventh year, awaiting his NEWTs . . . he would pass with distinction – as he always had.

He would use the darkness to do so.

It wasn't just him who practised, he had discovered, quite by accident, that Xavier and Delphin both wove dark spells themselves. They studied deeply and both were highly skilled at casting dark curses at those they deemed foes, but neither was as advanced as Al. Neither had let the darkness in, the primordial energy that was ancestral and older than the mountains themselves.

"What are you doing?" asked Cass, walking into the dorm, a tired expression on her face, she was taking twelve subjects to NEWT level, having passed her OWLs with all Outstandings, and the strain of having to study for so much was beginning to show in her appearance. She was always tired these days but Albus found that it only heightened her beauty, when her body reflected how strong her mind was.

Cursing he clenched his fists, snuffing out the flames in an instant and feeling them kiss his skin in a soft explosion of ferocity as they were unceremoniously waned. He winced at the pain, before the soothing sensation of healing overtook his burned hands and purified them of all hurt. The darkness protected its own, just as he did.

"Nothing," he whispered as she perched on his bed beside him, forcing a smile to his face as the waves of exhaustion washed over his body; his energy levels were low, his heart beating slightly sluggishly as his magic exacted its price.

"Bonefyre huh?" she smirked, surprising him with her nonchalance.

"You know?" he asked warily, he loved her but hoped she wouldn't make him try to stop.

"That you're practising the dark arts?" she said with a raised eyebrow, "Yes."

"I'm sorry," he said, feeling oddly sorrowful that he had disappointed her.

"Don't be," she whispered, in a voice as low as his, moving so that she sat cross legged before him before moving to cup his own palms with hers. He tensed, his eyes widening as the purplish flames began to reappear, reflected in her silver gaze.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of it," she murmured reverently, "Dad and Scor practice as well . . . Mum too," she added as an afterthought, thinking of Astoria.

"They do?" he asked curiously, adding his own energy to hers as the fire hissed angrily in their hands.

"Yes," she said, "But none of us have gone as far as you have," she said sternly.

"Why not?" he answered evenly, "It feels so good, do you know how we could use this power. We could better ourselves. We wouldn't have to cower anymore."

"We could," she said, "But darkness always extols a price."

"I'll pay any price to make a change Cassie," he said, "We don't deserve being treated like scum by the rest of the world."

They paused suddenly, the dark fire shooting up in a pirouette of flame and scorching the roof of his four poster head. Within him, he felt the shadows he had bound within him respond to his words in a manner he never thought they would – in that moment he felt they were both connected to the Primordial Darkness, the ancient nameless entity that existed in the timeless void alongside the primordial light. Cassiopeia gasped, breaking the spell as she grabbed her wrist at the same moment that Albus grabbed his, biting his lip at the scorching pain which flowed across his skin.

Slowly he looked down in horror, his eyes widening as did hers, for tattooed across their wrists was a serpent coiled around a dagger, its fangs drawn and dripping venom.

The Mark of an Outcast. . .

(*)(*)(*)

"Ow!" scowled Xavier as the bowtruckle he and Delphin were working with stabbed his thumb with its twig like finger, deep enough to draw blood. He glared murderously at the tiny creature as his friend chuckled beside him, "I'm going to use you as kindling!" snapped Xavier, as the bowtruckle seemed to look at him with amusement in its beady little eyes.

Care of Magical Creatures had entailed a great many irritations for Xavier from the moment he had first started the class, the incident with the skittish unicorn and Susanne Boot had been but the first of many. Over the years he had been burned by a firecrab, kicked by a Pegasus, bitten by a particularly spiteful doxy, slashed across the chest by a rampaging Hippogriff named Witherwings, spat on by a niffler, nearly killed by a murderous centaur and most recently, attacked by a rambunctious manticore which Hagrid had somehow procured. The only reason he was taking the class was because seventh years were required a minimum of five classes and he absolutely hated taking The Mind Arts. He was about as cut out for legilimency and occlumency as he was for plaiting a unicorn's tail whilst wearing a pink sundress and singing Celestina Warbeck.

"You scared the little guy," pointed out Delphin as their bowtruckle leapt of the table and took off for the Forbidden Forest.

"I hope an acromantula eats him," said Xavier acidly, sucking on his bleeding thumb.

Delphin on the other hand had a real talent for working with magical creatures, his life's ambition was to own a pet dragon. He and Hagrid would have gotten along famously had it not been for the half-giants disdainful attitude for anything Slytherin. Needless to say, Delphin had already secured an internship with famed naturalist Luna Scamander and with be working with her as soon as he finished Hogwarts.

"You and Rose still sneaking around then?" asked Xavier, calming down a little as the bleeding stopped and realising he had nothing to do now that his subject had run off, he decided to ask his friend about the subject that had been on his mind for the last few weeks.

"Are you mental? Rose and I?" spluttered Delphin in indignation, before gulping at the sight of his friends raised eyebrow, "How did you know?" he sighed in resignation.

"Please, do you really think I'm as oblivious as the Al and Scor?" asked Xavier with a wry grin. This time it was Delphins turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Fine," said Xavier, "Kat told me."

"Kat knows?" asked Delphin worriedly; really this was getting out of hand. He and Rose had agreed to keep their relationship a secret till they graduated Hogwarts.

"Yup, she saw you two snogging under the Quidditch stands at the last game," replied Xavier.

"But I cast a disillusionment charm on the two of us," protested Delphin, "She couldn't have seen."

"Del, you have trouble casting a bloody levitation charm," smirked Xavier, it was true; his friend was the only Outcast to have gotten a Troll in his Charms OWL.

"Can you keep it quiet Xav?" asked Delphin in a pleading tone, "The sneaking around is so much kinkier." Xavier just rolled his eyes at his friend, sometimes Delphin worried him.

"Ok, just don't shag in my bed," he said with a grin, there was no denying that Kat and Xavier had taken it upon themselves to christen every surface in both their dorms.

"Why not?" cried Del in outrage, he had been hoping to get back at his friend for leaving his and Kat's underwear on his bedpost, "I'm sure Al and Cassie are . . ."

"You would think so but no," grinned Xavier, "Not that our Al isn't planning on changing that."

"How would you know?"

"He came to me for advice the other day."

"Why would he come to you?" declared Delphin pompously, "Scor and I are the experts on all things sexual."

"Yes," responded Xavier dryly, "But Scor is Cassiopeia's brother and frankly your preferences scare us."

"But chains and whips excite me . . . OW!"

He doubled over, grimacing in pain as he clutched his wrist, groaning at the burning sensation spreading across his skin. There was a muted yelp as Xavier clutched the table for support, his skin blanching white as he bit his lip to keep from crying out.

Drawing back his sleeve, Delphin's eyes widened in alarm . . . etched upon his skin was an inky serpent coiled around a blade. One look at Xavier was all it took to realise his friend had the same symbol tattooed across his flesh.

(*)(*)(*)

"Rosie," declared Scorpius in his usual exuberant manner as he left the Divination classroom, "What brings you to this part of the castle." He thoroughly enjoyed Divination, it was his easiest class. All he had to do was come up with a few imaginative stories and prophecies which ended in tragedy and he received top marks in the subject. It was a very good outlet for his overactive imagination.

"The Tower of the Damned you mean?" scoffed Rose; she had inherited her mother's scepticism for Divination and rightly believed that Trelawney was an old fraud. Scorpius secretly agreed with her but he wasn't about to admit that as she was the one teacher in the school who doted on him, other than Slughorn of course.

"Nope, Gryffindor Tower is the other way," Scorpius shrugged, causing a group of Gryffindor girls in his year to fix him with a set of angry glares. Scorpius grinned as he turned to face the lead girl, Roxanne Weasley, who had just opened her mouth, no doubt to shoot him with a spiteful comment of some sort.

"I'd be quiet if I were you Foxy Roxy," said Scorpius with an evil glint in his eyes, "I know things about you that would make your mother curl up in a foetal position for days." Roxanne flushed furiously, before stalking of with her gaggle of friends.

"What dirt do you have on her," smirked Rose, falling into step beside him.

"I know what she likes in the sack," winked Scorpius, completely unabashed at discussing his very active sex life with his half sister, who just screwed up her nose in disgust.

"Really bro," she shook her head in mock disappointment, "Couldn't you do any better than Foxy Roxy?"

"You know I make it my mission to get one over on the Gryffindorks," sneered Scorpius, "How could I resist deflowering Seth Finnigan's girlfriend?"

"You're incorrigible," laughed Rose, she had no love for the Gryffindors, Seth in particular had hit her with a particularly nasty jinx in her third year that had caused her teeth to expand passed her chin.

"You love me anyway," chuckled Scorpius, before gasping and clutching his wrist. He stumbled backwards into the wall, his face creased with pain. Beside him Rose let out a low shriek, grabbing his arm for support as she felt something burn across her wrist.

(*)(*)(*)

Kat scribbled furiously, determined to complete the Arithmetic sequence that Professor Chang had put on the board before the rest of the class. She was an ace at arithmancy and had always had a head for numbers; this coupled with her skill in Defence Against the Dark Arts had her hoping for a career at Gringotts as a curse breaker. Beside her, her dorm-mate Isabella Goyle seemed completely clueless to the complex set of numbers before her – how she had made it to NEWT level was beyond Kat. The only type of numerical equation Isabella had ever been able to work out involved the bills her daddy had to pay after she had spent the entire summer shopping with her sisters.

"You should glamour your love-bites," said Isabella in a helpful tone once Kat finally finished the sum and handed it in to Professor Chang, receiving five points for her house.

"Why is that?" asked Kat curiously, truthfully when she had been younger she hadn't been able to stand her dorm mates Isabella and Elena but now after years of living together she could safely say that, despite the fact they would never be best friends, they were somewhat close. She usually just tied a scarf around her neck if Xavier had bitten her too deeply the night before but she had overslept this morning and been late.

"We have Herbology next," said Isabella, "You know students sleeping together are against the school rules, most of the teachers ignore it because it's going to happen whether they like it or not but you know Longbottom."

Kat cursed, her friend was right, Longbottom wouldn't hesitate to give her a session with his famous blood quill for breaking such a trivial rule, despite the fact that his own son Frank rarely slept alone these days. It was a fact that the entire castle was aware off, teachers included, but as Frank wasn't a Slytherin it would seem that most of the rules didn't apply to him.

"Thanks Bella," said Kat, focusing her wand on the hickey and weaving a temporary glamour over the mark to hide it for the next few hours.

"No problem," she responded, before turning to answer an irate Professor Chang about why her parchment was still blank.

Kat winced suddenly, her free hand beginning to burn over the wrist.

(*)(*)(*)

"Where'd you get these Hugo?" asked his friend, Alex Kreiss, a Slytherin in his year, as he took a long pull of the muggle cigarette his friend had just lit.

"Albus," grinned Hugo, "He has one pack but it's enchanted to never empty."

The group of Slytherin fifth years were lounging beside the Great Oak that stood sentinel near the Black Lake, basking in the sun as they studied for their upcoming OWLs.

"Anyone fancy a swim?" asked Damon, another of his dorm-mates who was built like a rock.

"I'm game," said Alex and Claire at the same time, readily getting to their feet and beginning to yank off their shoes. Hugo just grinned as he joined them, his blonde hair flashing in the sunlight as the three boys stripped down to their boxers before taking off at a run, causing three consecutively loud splashes. Claire grinned to herself, her dirty blonde hair streaming behind her as she joined the boys, clad in only her knickers and bra. She was as wild as the three boys she regularly hung out with – her mother had begun to despair of ever making a proper young lady out of her.

Alex smacked Hugo over the head as he noticed his friend staring at her perfectly executed swan dive, "Go after her mate," he said with a grin, before disappearing under water to avoid being splashed as Hugo – red faced at being caught staring – went after him.

The fifteen year old suddenly felt a pair of hands around his slender waist from behind as Damon grabbed him and pulled him under for a few seconds, eventually letting him go with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Oh it's so on," scowled Hugo, running his hand through his wet hair to get it out of his eyes before swimming after his bulky friend. Thus ensued a very loud water fight, much to the disgust of the Ravenclaws who were studying beside the lake. When they booed disapprovingly, Claire made sure to splash them, books and all.

Laughing the four friends walked out of the lake, dripping as they flopped down on the shore to dry of in the hot sun. Hugo flushed brightly when he felt Claire take his hand in her own and squeeze, he really did like her.

Then he forced himself to stifle a whimper as he felt a searing pain across his free hand.

(*)(*)(*)

Hermione yelped, flexing her wrist in pain as she watched the inky brand appear across it, her eyes filled with horror as the snake and dagger began to take shape. Draco groaned, clutching at his bedpost as he watched his own dark mark, the symbol of a death eater, begin to morph.

The skull seemed to drip, forming a molten streak as it solidified into a knife, the snake that once curled from within its maw slithered across his skin, scorching his flesh as it coiled around the newly formed dagger.

The mark of the Outcasts glared at the couple, bold and dark.

"It's Albus," sighed Hermione, she had been afraid something like this would happen but she hadn't expected herself or Draco to be branded, shaking her head as she sank onto the bed, "I can sense his magical signature in the brand."

"I can sense Cass," whispered Draco, "But why would we be marked?" It was a valid concern, when Voldemort had marked the original death eaters he had only marked the seven who had helped him summon the darkness . . . the rest of his followers had been branded individually as time went on – none had just received a mark out of the blue, especially when the supposed master of the mark was nowhere in the general vicinity.

The memory flitted across her mind's eye, a look of dawning horror forming across her face. Oh it was so painfully obvious, she would bet her life that everyone of the children who regularly spent their time at the Manor would have been marked as well. A group with a name, hadn't Draco said that he was worried about them. She should have listened to his concerns, she should have realised the children had descended into the dark arts further than they had admitted to her.

"_Draco," said Hermione softly, putting her book down and leaning her head against his shoulder, "We're all Outcasts, neither of us can show our face in public without getting verbally assaulted too some extent." Draco sighed, knowing it was true but not liking the fact._

"We both admitted that we're Outcasts," she murmured softly.

(*)(*)(*)

"Professor Trelawney!" called Lily Luna Potter as she climbed into the Divination classroom. Professor Mcgonagall had sent her to find the divination professor as she had missed a very important staff meeting, Lily hadn't been very keen on being sent to the battiest professor in the school but she went nonetheless.

The past year had been difficult for her, her parent's divorce had been a bitter one; both of them had torn bloody chunks out of each other during the separation. Harry had been adamant that all Slytherins were evil and that he had been acting for the greater good; Ginny had been furious that he had treated their son in such an appalling and disgraceful manner. Rita Skeeter had had a field day; that not one – but two golden marriages had been sundered within five years of each other. Ginny and Lily now lived in suburban Manchester, whilst Harry and James both lived at Grimmauld Place. James was, if nothing else, blindly loyal to his father – but he had at least tried to rebuild bridges with Albus. It hadn't helped, the pair was as distant as ever, but Ginny counted her blessings that Albus still wanted her in his life and spent every other weekend at her house during the holidays. It would be a long time before the relationship between her mother and brother would be repaired, but Lily was certain that they were on their way there.

She found Sybil quickly enough; the thin woman was hunched over her crystal ball, no doubt lost in another useless prediction of some sort. Lily scoffed, this was the reason she hadn't taken the subject in the first place.

"_It has begun!"_

Lily recoiled; Professor Trelawney had gone rigid in her chair, her voice magnified so that it sounded as though there were three of her speaking in unison, her eyes were unfocused, her mouth sagging.

"Professor?" she asked cautiously.

"_And a new Dark Lord shall rise . . . shaped into his dark identity by that which he has lost . . . darker and more terrible than all those who have come before . . . dark but not evil . . . a paragon of the greater good . . . but he shall know a power that none who have reigned before him have known . . . he shall know how to love . . . and he shall rise . . . greater and more powerful . . . the entire world will quake before his name . . .the Forsaken One!"_

Lily turned on her heels and fled.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Thoughts?


	11. Chapter 10

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Ten**

**Recovery**

"Master . . . Let us punish him . . ." the Shadow whispered, flitting around the corners of his peripheral vision, her heavily lidded eyes gleaming even in death. He sat alone in the train compartment, the Scarlet Hogwarts Express bringing him home after a very exciting and stressful first term of seventh year. He had been sitting with the other Outcasts, locked in a very heated snogging session with Cassiopeia, who had now nipped off to the loo, informing them all very nonchalantly that it was _woman's week _for her. Scorpius had left very quickly after that, looking quite queasy – he had firmly averted his gaze from his best friend and sister for the entire train ride. Xavier had disappeared with Kat, who had wanted to find her younger brothers. Delphin had left the compartment fairly early in the train ride, closely followed by Rose – which he found incredibly suspicious – and Hugo was sitting with his friends from his own year; probably snogging Claire Williams. Frank Longbottom had just barged into his comment, spat out several malicious insults, before hastily retreating at the sight of Albus' wand. Albus chuckled at that, as if he needed a wand to cause him pain.

"Hush Bella," said Albus calmly, "He is not worth the energy."

"I . . . should have . . . killed his father . . . when I had the chance," said the Shadow darkly, "When I . . . tortured . . . his namesake." Bellatrix Lestrange had been the first shadow he had ever summoned and she had proved most helpful and loyal to him. The spirit of the dark witch knew what it was like to be shunned for being different, Andromeda and Narcissa had both shunned their older sister when she had begun her own descent into the dark arts. She knew the cruelty of those in power as well, her hatred of muggles stemming from a filthy vagabond who had taken advantage of her when she had been fifteen, taking advantage of the beautiful young girl who was walking home to Grimmauld Place alone. Albus had long conversations with Bellatrix, she was his favourite Shadow, often keeping him awake at night by sharing her knowledge of the dark arts.

"Go on then," Albus chuckled, "Hurt him as you will, but no permanent damage." He could have sworn he saw the Shadow pout before disappearing in an icy breath of chill air, reminiscent of the grave.

"You shouldn't listen to her so much," said a second Shadow, coming into his field of vision as Bellatrix departed, "She's too malevolent." This shadow was clearer than Bella, less dark as it were, with a stronger grip to the world of the living. Perhaps because this Shadow had been an inherently good person before he had been killed.

"Powerful though," noted Albus, "As are you Uncle Fred."

"How spiffing that my nephew thinks me powerful," Fred Weasley chuckled in amusement, "I am not as strong as half of those you have summoned."

"You are the most human," said Albus, "And you are family . . . you should never have died."

"This was not the future I died for," said Fred, his amusement giving way to sadness, "I died for equality, not for a mere reverse in the balance of power."

"I wonder what Uncle George would say if he heard you using such big words," smirked Albus, causing the spirit of his uncle to laugh.

"You should stop relying so much on Dark Magic Albus," said Uncle Fred, shaking his head as his humour faded.

"There is no such thing as dark magic Uncle Fred, there is just magic – and it can be used for good or bad."

"Who are you talking too?" asked Cass as she walked back into the compartment, a strangely guarded expression on her face. Fred flickered and vanished, disappearing once more into the recesses of his heart.

"Just thinking out loud Cass," he lied convincingly, loping an arm around her as she leant into his shoulder.

(*)(*)(*)

Albus had no sooner set foot into Malfoy Manor for the Christmas holidays of his seventh year than he was hit by a stunning spell, quickly crumpling to the ground. Scorpius caught him hurriedly as he fell, nodding sadly at his father and Hermione, both of whom stood before the door holding their wands. Draco was shivering slightly; he had never thought that he would one day have to raise a wand against one of his own children, even if Albus wasn't technically his, it still struck the fatherly chord in him.

"We've prepared the Drawing Room," said Hermione anxiously, they had been forced to act, Albus was becoming too powerful in the dark arts, Cass had written home with her worries, and the Elder Malfoys had decided it was time to act. None wanted to do what they had to do, but they had no choice. For Albus' wellbeing, no matter how much it hurt them emotionally to have to do this against his will, they had to do it. Hugo and Scorpius nodded as they half-carried, half-dragged their brother in all but blood to the designated room, Cass and Rose following.

"This won't hurt him?" asked Cassiopeia quietly, as she stroked his cheek, the look of surprise had been etched across his face when the stunner had struck him. She was scared for him, their marks were one thing, accidental and easily obscured by glamours, but Albus was delving deeper. He just couldn't stop on his quest for knowledge; she didn't want to think how many Shadows he had summoned to himself in the course of the past year.

"No," said Hermione, as she fitted him with dampening bracelets of his wrists and ankles to keep him still after they woke him, if he fought back they were doomed. Draco moved quickly, using his knife to cut open the boys shirt, they needed direct contact with his heartbeat. He nodded at Hermione, and the couple placed their open palms across Albus' chest, feeling the rhythmic pulse of his heart thudding against their fingers.

"He's waking up," said Rose, hastily checking that the dampening bracelets were active.

"What's going on," Albus asked blearily, his eyes suddenly flaring as he felt the restraints on his arms and legs, "What are you doing!" he cried in alarm.

"We're erecting wards over your Shadows," said Hugo, "You're slipping mate, we're tired of seeing you like this."

"I'm fine," pleaded Albus, terrified at what they were doing, they were trying to shut him away from his power source, to take away his connection to the dark, "I'm fine."

"You are not fine," said Draco wearily, "I can feel it . . . Merlin boy, how many have you bound to yourself?" The well of dark energy that he was sensing within the recesses of the raven haired boys heart was overwhelming; he had never felt it's like before – and he had once been a death eater.

"Not many," Albus begged, "Just enough to be strong . . . don't take my power away. . . I need it, please Draco, please don't take it away."

"How many?" asked Hermione, her voice sharper now, she saw that Draco was beginning to crack under Albus' pleading, he had always had a soft spot for the boy, especially after Harry had begun beating him.

"Thirteen," he stammered, the other teenagers took a step back in horror, save for Cass who remained at his side, "Please Aunt Hermione, please . . . I need to be strong . . . I can't let anyone else hurt me." That was what broke her heart, the knowledge that Albus had had to turn to the dark arts for a sense of protection because of what his father had done to him; but thirteen Shadows? Morgana have mercy, Voldemort had only summoned and bound one – his mother; Merope Gaunt – and think of how powerful he had been!

"Nobody is going to hurt you again Albus," said Draco, beginning to pump his own magic into the boy's heart, erecting wards and shields and psychic blocks to hold the Shadows at bay. Beside him, he saw Hermione's eye become firm and unyielding as she began to do the same, both of them shocked at the amount of power Albus possessed.

"NO! NO! NO!" Albus shrieked, his chest writhing as he screamed, if his limbs were free they would be kicking and punching out, hastily he began to fight them back, his own energy slamming against the half-erected wards and buffeting them, causing slender cracks to appear in them. Hermione gasped, biting her lip as she concentrated, once they were fully formed Albus would have no chance of breaking through the blocks, but now was the stage in which he could overwhelm them. She felt Rose take her by the shoulder, Scorpius coming up beside Draco and taking his as both their children began to lend them their magical energy.

"Albus, stop fighting us dammit," winced Draco, his skin paling from the strain, a slender rivulet of blood trickling from his nose, before he seemed to relax slightly as Scorpius' magic joined with his own depleting reserves.

"NO! NO! STOP! PLEASE STOP!"

"Albus," said Cassiopeia gently, tears in her eyes as she brought her head down to his so that her hair obscured their faces from view. He froze at the tears, he was making her cry, he couldn't make her cry, not her. Then he felt the wards strengthen and he slammed against them again, causing Hermione to cry out before Hugo came up and lent her his power too.

"Albus, stop fighting them please," whispered Cass, so that only he could hear, her breath ghosting across his own lips.

"I can't Cassie," he begged, sounding like a terrified child, "Please. . . I can't."

"Albus, do you love me?"

"Of course I do Cass," he said, still struggling, Draco was staggering slightly by now, only held up by Scorpius, whose power was already waning.

"Then do it because you love me," she murmured, brushing her lips against his, he looked at her, eyes still full of terror but he nodded slowly.

"Ok," he said softly, relaxing and letting them finally erect the barriers that would keep the darkness trapped where it could do no harm.

(*)(*)(*)

"Why did you do it?" he asked quietly, lying in his bed and not facing her as she sat beside him, her soft hand against his bare side. It was two weeks after the incident, two weeks during which he had avoided the others as if his life depended on it. He couldn't shake the terrible feeling of betrayal, couldn't help from flinching away from them when they made to touch him or speak to him. He was hurt; they had made him feel powerless again, just like his father had. _But they did it to help me_, a voice said, in his head, and though he knew it was true he couldn't bring himself to forgive them. Draco and Scorpius had hurt him the most, they had become his substitute father and brother, but all he could think off when he looked at them was them holding him down and sealing his dark magic away. Just like Harry and James had sealed away his innocence and happiness when he had been younger.

"Because I was scared Al," she said softly, "I was scared that I was losing you." She alone had been braving the storm, whilst the rest of the family were content to give him his space after he had snapped at them all repeatedly; she alone had taken to coming to his room every night and soothing him to sleep. Her presence kept him sane and helped him cope with his withdrawal from dark magic as a whole. When he woke up yelling, when he couldn't seem to fall asleep, she was there, holding him. So finally after a fortnight of silence when he couldn't bear it any longer he asked her, and he was stung by her response.

"You were scared . . . of me?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. He couldn't scare a person; that was what Harry did. He wasn't his father . . . but he had scared Cass.

"I wasn't scared _of_ you Albus," she said settling down beside him, "I was scared _for_ you."

"Why?" he asked again, shivering slightly under her touch, her cool fingers trailing tongues of fire over his bare skin. He was painfully aware that he was clad in just his boxers and that she was wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt (that she had stolen from Scorpius) and a pair loose pyjama bottoms.

"Because I love you," she said honestly, "And I don't want to see you hurt."

He turned to face her, a light smile on his face, his first genuine smile in two weeks, "I love you to."

"I know," she smiled, "You let them shield you . . . for me."

He kissed her hungrily, before he could realise what he was doing, conveying all his love and lust in that one passionate kiss, his hands trailing through her hair as she scratched his back, wanton , flushed with her own desire. His hand slid up her shirt, before suddenly he pulled away, blushing furiously.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, I didn't th–"

"Shut up," she interrupted, "And take of your shorts."

(*)(*)(*)

"You ok Al?" asked Delphin worriedly, watching his friends hand's shiver as Albus tried to reach for his quill and kept missing. Albus' eyes were permanently bloodshot these days, his body was always being subjected to odd muscle spasms and unless Cass slept beside him at night he would wake screaming at least thrice a night. Their friend's addiction to darkness had been terrifying for them to watch, it made them all limit their own exposure to dark magic and although they still practiced it, they all adopted a more conservative view towards it.

"I'm fine," he said faintly, blinking his eyes to stem the dizziness, "I think I just need to get some sleep." He feigned a yawn before packing his bag and heading up to his dormitory, not noticing the suspicious look shared by Xavier and Kat.

Albus dared a glance over his shoulder as soon as he entered the dorm room, before climbing into his bed fully dressed and pulling the curtains closed behind him. His body shook violently, his voice was raspy as he cupped his palms together, nurturing a few sparks of _bonefyre._

"Bella," he whispered, "Bella can you hear me."

"Yes . . . My Lord," she sounded fainter than she had ever sounded before, Albus thanked Merlin and Morgana that he had sent her after Frank Longbottom on the train so she hadn't been sealed away like the rest of his Shadows. He dared not summon anymore, the wards on his heart were too strong to bind a fourteenth Shadow to it without risking death. Bella was all he had left; she fed him what little darkness she could, and in exchange he let her wander the castle freely (Mcgonagall was of the opinion that a particularly vindictive poltergeist had taken up residence in the castle, Peeves was thrilled – even if he couldn't locate his new partner in crime – that he finally had company).

"You sound weak Bella," he murmured, suddenly freezing as his curtains were flung back and he was confronted by Delphin and Xavier, their arms crossed. The Shadow flickered and vanished, disappearing from mortal view.

"I told you he was still practising," said Xavier, speaking to the olive youth beside him who just waved his hand as if to say that this was not the time to worry about who was right. Albus shivered freely as the _bonefyre_ flickered out, his entire body quavered when he saw his friends glare at him crossly.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "It just hurts too much to stop . . . please don't let me hurt anymore." He sounded like a young child, scared and alone, it stunned the other boys; they hadn't heard Albus speak like that since his second year after the summer that Harry had first started hitting him.

"You can't practice anymore Al," said Delphin, not unkindly, as he sat down beside his shivering friend, taking note of his downcast eyes and trembling lip. "Find Scorpius," he mouthed to Xavier, who nodded and took off quickly.

(*)(*)(*)

"What is so important that I had to leave the school on a weeknight?" asked Neville brusquely as he floo'ed to his home, coming up short when he saw his good friends Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, both seated on opposite ends of the room, as far away as possible from each other. They were determinedly looking in opposite directions, with his oldest daughter Alison sitting beside their son James on the loveseat, both glancing around at the awkward room. His wife, Hannah Longbottom (nee Abbot) bustled into the room with a tray of tea.

"Now that you're all here," said James nervously, "We have something we want to discuss with you."

"Oh I'm going to be a grandmother!" cried Hannah jubilantly, rushing forward to embrace her daughter who looked quite baffled. Neville turned to glare murderously at James, who held up his hands in surrender, "I swear she's not pregnant," he said urgently.

"You're not, are you?" he added to Alison in an undertone when Hannah pulled away flushing in embarrassment. Alison smacked him upside the head, "Of course not," she hissed, alleviating her father's suspicions.

"So what is it?" asked Harry, a tad sharply, he really didn't want to sit in the same room as a snake lover like his ex-wife longer than need be.

"One would think you don't enjoy my company," said Ginny acidly before smiling encouragingly at her son, "Now why have you summoned us decent human beings here . . . oh and Harry," she added as an afterthought.

"There's no need to be nasty Ginny," said Neville hastily, he was well aware of her jinxing abilities having co-led the D.A with her when she was just a sixth year.

"Now Neville," said Ginny sweetly, "It's not like I'm going to carve anything into his flesh, Umbridge already had her go at him with a blood quill, terrible things, I'm so glad that they're _illegal_ these days." Neville flushed and fell silent whilst Hannah just looked on in confusion; she truly was a sweet and naive woman. How she had managed to produce the likes of Alison and Frank, Merlin only knew. True, Alison was lovely to look at, but she was cold as an iceberg and as vindictive a bitch as Ginny had ever met. It was no secret that whilst Harry was thrilled by James dating Alison, Ginny heartily disapproved of the match – she would rather her daughter-in-laws have good hearts rather than good bodies. She had met Cassiopeia only briefly but from what she had seen she was sure that Cass was a worthy suitor for her baby boy.

"Well," said James, trying to dim the hostility in the room, "We're getting married."

Ginny scowled angrily, but made to politely welcome Alison to the family. How she longed for the days when she could bend that boy over her knee and knock some sense into him, yes, perhaps they were in love but you needed more to build a marriage.

Such as the ability to not piss of one's future mother-in-law and accepts your future husband's brother.

(*)(*)(*)

"DONT HIT ME DADDY!" he screamed loudly, thrashing around in his bed, his elbow catching Cass in on her shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. She was awake in an instant, glad that she had been putting a silencing charm on his bed to keep the other boys from hearing his screams. They had been getting worse now that he didn't have the darkness to draw out his frustrations and emotions – The Outcasts had begun a system in which Albus was never alone, even when he went to the bathroom one of the boys would be waiting for him – it was helping. As his body was weaned of its addiction though, the emotions he had pushed to the depths of his being were beginning to surface.

"Wake up Al," she said gently, shaking him awake, "Wake up!" she repeated in a more forceful tone when he continued to thrash in his sleep. His eyes cracked open, his expression making him so vulnerable and innocent when compared to the Leader of the Outcasts he was by day, usually maintaining a face a composed emotionless indifference.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he murmured, cringing away as she reached to put her arms around him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, sighing softly before reaching out and forcing her arms to envelop his still heaving chest. He was always like this after a nightmare, afraid of human contact because of what his father, somebody a child should trust the most, had done to him.

"No," he shook his head violently, "I just want to forget . . . Why can't I just forget," he cried, tears beginning to fill his eyes.

"Shhh Al," she said, kissing him lightly on the brow, "Just talk to me." It was the same every night, he would wake up screaming and she would soothe him back to sleep, but not after she made her nightly offer to listen to him as he talked; even though every night he would just shake his head and go back to sleep.

"The first time he hit me," said Albus, surprising her by speaking, he had never spoken about his abuse before and whilst they had all known it was happening, they hadn't known the specifics, "Was on my twelfth birthday." Her eyes widened, that was so horrible, she couldn't even imagine her father doing that to Scorpius and her.

"It was because I had friends you know, I wasn't allowed to have Slytherin friends, I wasn't allowed to be a Slytherin period. He hasn't written me a letter since my Sorting, even though I spent five weeks pleading with him, hoping he would still say he loved me. That Christmas, he didn't so much as send me a card . . ." he went on and on, spilling every detail to her. Even when he had spoken to his mother, the day she decided to file for a divorce, he hadn't gone into detail. He had given the rough summary – his still visible bruises had spoke for themselves back then. Cassiopeia found herself crying as she held him; no child should have to suffer what her boyfriend had. They cried together, staying up till the early hours before they finally fell asleep, her sitting up with her boyfriend – although physically taller and more muscular than she was – cradled in her arms.

That night, Albus Potter finally felt himself begin to heal.

(*)(*)(*)

"Have you thought about a best man son," asked Harry as he surveyed his son and future daughter-in-law, this was the second meeting of the month for the two families to discuss their respective children's upcoming nuptials. Hannah was absent from the proceedings, she had had to take a last minute shift at her pub, The Leaky Cauldron, because her usual bartender called in sick.

"Yes, my choice is rather obvious you know," said James, "Albus is my best man."

The mood in the room seemed to instantly plummet, replaced with a stony silence. Ginny beamed proudly at her son, Harry glared mutinously, Neville fixed James with a look that could kill. Alison just looked uneasily from her father to her future father-in-law, clasping her hand around James' wrist.

"Surely it would be better for one of your best friends to host the honour . . .or perhaps Teddy," said Harry, his voice cold. Ginny fixed him with a glare.

"Dad, Albus is my brother and there is nobody in the world I would rather have there as my best man," James defended his choice.

"It really is James' choice," said Alison, "If he wants his brother there then I support him." The young witch instantly went up several pegs in Ginny's book; perhaps she had misjudged this girl.

"Quiet Alison," barked Neville angrily, and Alison seemed to shrink backwards into her fiancé – _that explains her cold personality_, thought Ginny sadly, _she's scared of her father_ – "I will not give you away in marriage if there's a Slytherin at the altar."

"That really isn't your choice to make Uncle Neville," said James evenly.

"But it is mine," snapped Harry, "If you want the snake as your best man then I assure you I won't be attending."

"The _snake_ as you call him is your son!" snarled Ginny, clutching the armrest of the sofa so tightly her knuckles went white.

"I have only two sons," declared Harry coolly, "Teddy and James. Now decide."

James hung his head in defeat, and Ginny sighed in disappointment and disgust.

(*)(*)(*)

"Hey Al," said Scorpius, climbing into his bed beside him without waiting for a response and sitting against the headboard as his best friend roused himself, blearily rubbing his eyes.

"It's one in the morning Scor," groaned Albus, checking the glow-in-the-dark display on his watch, which lay discarded on his bedside table, "What is it?" It was a testimony to their friendship that Albus didn't kick his friend out and ask him to come back in the morning, Albus loved his sleep but Scorpius had always been there for him when he had woken screaming, so he owed it to his friend to listen now.

"I need to talk to you," the blonde boy said in a slightly timid voice, making Albus wonder what was on his friends mind. Scorpius was never timid or shy about anything.

"What is it?" yawned Albus tiredly, pulling himself into sitting position beside his friend.

"I love Lily," he said quickly, before he could chicken out. It had been coming on for a couple weeks now, but he had only known it last week during the Quidditch final when he had knocked the Ravenclaw Star Chaser – who happened to be Lily Potter – of her broom with a well directed bludger. The pang in his heart at seeing her fall was all it took to solidify that he more than fancied her, as had the fact that he hit her with a cushioning charm to keep her from injuring herself after she fell. Before that he had just assumed that he had fancied her, noticing the way her hair burned like ruby fire, how she walked with a feline grace that was reminiscent of a lioness, the coppery swirling fames in her eyes, her voice, which could instantly brighten his day.

"Lily. . ." Albus said the name as if he were struggling to recall who Scorpius was talking about, "As in my sister Lily?" he finally asked, eyes comically widened.

"No," Albus breathed a sigh of relief, "I mean your dead grandmother Lily, who do you think I mean?" Scorpius continued dryly, stung at the relieved tone in his best mate's tone when he thought he wasn't in love with his sister.

Seeing the hurt look on Scorpius' face, Albus sighed again before turning to explain, "Look mate, I'm not saying you're not good enough for my sister," Scorpius brightened instantly, "I'm saying you're a bit of a man-whore and that I would rather my sister not be another one of your conquests," he finished bluntly, he really was too tired to use euphemisms.

"It's not like that Al," Scorpius said in a low, sad voice, "I know I'm not good enough for her, she's amazing, and I know I've been the most promiscuous bastard in this school but I really do care about her Al. She's funny, and beautiful, and intelligent and –"

"If you want to date her," interrupted Albus, most of his doubts vanishing as Scorpius spoke because he had frankly never heard his friend talk about any girl like he had just spoken about Lily, "I can't stop you, not after you gave me your blessing to be with Cass . . . but Scorpius she's the only real family I have left, I just don't want to see her get hurt like the rest of the girls who've graced your bed."

"That's just it Albus," said Scorpius, "I don't look at her and instantly want to shag her like the others, I want to know her, to make her laugh, I want to be the one she smacks on the head, you know, like how she used to smack that toe-rag Sparx from Ravenclaw."

"I believe you Scor," he said, "But please don't hurt her, that's all I can ask."

"I'd sooner hurt myself," said Scorpius seriously, and Albus nodded, knowing his friend well enough to realise he meant every word.


	12. Chapter 11

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Graduation**

"Can you believe that we're finally done with Hogwarts?" asked Delphin as he straightened his black dress robes, staring at himself in the mirror with a strange look on his face – half joyous to be graduating, half sad to be leaving the school behind.

"Feels like only yesterday we were first years," smiled Albus, his dress robes were bottle green, a colour that Cass assured him brought out his eyes and that she swore he looked terrific in. He had allowed her to tackle his hair for once and after using a veritable cosmetic store worth of hair potion his hair fell in neat yet stylish waves down the sides of his head, instead of his usually shaggy locks. Draco often joked that he hoped his future grandchildren inherited their hair from his side of the family, Albus fervently agreed – he didn't want his children to have the curse of Potter hair.

"Well I can't say I'm not thrilled that I don't have to share a room with you people anymore," teased Scorpius, running a comb through his already sleek blonde hair, his midnight blue dress robes were of the highest quality. Albus never understood Scorpius' wardrobe, he often spent hundreds of galleons on clothes he would only wear once.

"You know you loved us," smirked Xavier as he stepped out of their bathroom, drying his hair, a towel wrapped around his waist. As usual he was running late.

"Oh Xav," declared Scorpius dramatically, flinging himself onto his towel clad friend and bursting into mock wails, "How will I live without you?"

"Easily enough," said the sarcastic boy dryly, "It's not like I'm going to be working in the same office as you." Scorpius and Xavier had both applied to Malfoy Holdings for employment, and both boys had been readily accepted to apprentice in the experimental magic division of the company, where wizards worked to perfect prototype magical devices and then sell them to the highest bidder. The department had been Hermione's idea, and she had recently left the legal profession to run it – one of her earlier inventions was a deluminator based on the original device owned by Albus Dumbledore.

Half an hour later the four boys walked down the stairs to their common room, laughing at Delphin's crude jokes as they descended to meet their ladies. Albus was first in line, the other three behind him, so he caught sight of Cassiopeia first and he froze in awe, his jaw dropping and causing Xavier to walk into him.

She was absolutely gorgeous; her sleek platinum hair had been curled so that it fell in soft ringlets around her porcelain skin, her lips a deep pink, her grey eyes gleaming like shards of quicksilver. Her emerald green dress was strapless, tapering only at the waist before flowing out in silky waves down to her ankles. Her arms were bare, save for slender bracelets of silver, adorned with tiny emeralds . . . His Slytherin Princess.

"Mate, seriously don't stop like that," Xavier scowled, pushing his way past his friend and falling silent when his gaze fell of Katherine Nott. Her pixie cut had been magically grown out so that her sable hair fell in lustrous waves down her back, her dress was black, slashed open across the waist to bare her left side and navel – on which hung a belly ring, a silver loop shaped like a snake with emerald eyes – before falling just passed her knees. The dress screamed her punkish personality, as did the stiletto boots and spiked jewellery, her eyes darkly shadowed with make-up. Albus could tell his friend was fighting the urge to jump her there and then.

"Woah," he managed to murmur, causing Kat to roll her eyes.

"Men," she laughed, nudging Cassiopeia who just giggled and gestured at Albus, who still hadn't said a word, just standing at the foot of the stairs staring at her. "At least yours managed to say something," Cass replied jokingly, snapping Albus out of his reverie.

"Why do we keep them around," sighed Kat, amusement evident in her tone.

"I don't know," shrugged Cass, "I'm only with Albus for his body," she teased, winking at her boyfriend as he pretended to look affronted.

"There's my leading lady," declared Delphin as he arrived, shoving his way past both boys and going up to Rose; who had been let into the Slytherin Dorms by her brother so that she could get dressed with her friends. Her dress was light and airy, sky blue silk falling to her ankles, the back slashed to bare her skin, the sleeves slightly flared. She rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's dramatics – they had gone public just a few weeks previously – much to the other boy's surprise (excluding Xavier) and the girls "about damn time".

Scorpius had Elena Flint on his arm, both of them were dating people from outside their house – but unlike Rose and Delphin, there with be a lot of trouble if they went with their significant others –Harry would no doubt be there, because Albus' cousin Roxanne were graduating as well. Therefore it was not conducive for Scorpius to go with Lily, or for Elena to go with Frank Longbottom; whom she claimed was quite a nice person once you got to know him, much to the others disbelief.

"Eye's back in their sockets Xav," said Kat with a wink, "You aren't getting lucky _this week_." Xavier groaned, the other girls giggled, the boys screwed up their faces in disgust. Except Rose, who suddenly paled, her eyes a dawning look of anxiety and shock as she looked at her own stomach and mentally seemed to be counting in her head. Delphin noticed and frowned, then paled as well as he caught on to what she was thinking. Nobody else, save for Cass and Al who were standing near the terrified looking couple, seemed to notice.

(*)(*)(*)

"Avery, Xavier," called Professor Mcgonagall from the podium, beginning the Slytherin section of the graduation ceremony, "NEWTs in Charms, Tranfiguration, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures." Xavier grinned as he took to the stage, picking up his diploma from his Headmistress and moving to stand to the left of the stage. Slytherin House was being called up last; the Gryffindors had already dispersed amidst their parents and well wishers, as had the Hufflepuffs. The Ravenclaws, ever dignified, had simply gone back to their seats to await the special awards.

"Flint, Elena. NEWTs in Charms, Potions, The Mind Arts, Music, Divination and History of Magic." Elena had a broad smile on her face as she waved at her parents and siblings, all of whom had turned up to support her. The other Slytherins knew how much this meant to her, her dad (Marcus Flint) was an international quidditch player and was rarely home as he was based in Chicago. They all knew that tonight was also the final match of the American Quidditch Leage, and that Marcus' team was playing in it. Nevertheless, he was here in England to be with his daughter on this very special day.

"Goye, Isabella. NEWTs in Charms, Potions, History of Magic and Arithmancy," Kat shook her head fondly at her friend, she had somehow managed to pass the final Arithmancy exam with an A. Albus noted his father giving Isabella a sour look, probably having something to do with his childhood rivalry with her father Gregory Goyle. Quite frankly, Albus liked Mr. Goyle, on the rare occasions that he had met him he had seemed like quite a pleasant, if gruff, person. His wife had died birthing Isabella and he was an exceptional father (and mother) to her and her three older brothers.

"Malfoy, Scorpius," called Professor Mcgonagall, and now there was no denying the looks of hatred on a great many of the parents in the Great Hall, Harry and Ron chief amongst them. Ron had turned bright red when he saw Hugo walk in with Claire Williams on his arm, coming to sit beside Draco and Hermione to support his older sister Rose. He had then turned even redder when he realised that Rose had changed her name from Weasley to Granger, Uncle George had had to hold him down rather than let him charge onto the stage. He had begun drinking from that point and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. Draco however, couldn't have looked prouder as he got to his feet clapping, along with the other Slytherin parents. He had done the same for Rose. Albus wondered how it felt to have such a loving and supportive father. "NEWTs in Herbology, Transfiguration, Potions, Divination, The Mind Arts, Astronomy and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Nott, Katherine. NEWTs in Transfiguration, Charms, The Mind Arts, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Astronomy." Professor Mcgonagall coughed disapprovingly as Kat leapt onto Xavier, kissing him full on the mouth on stage much to the cheers and wolf-whistles of the crowd. She turned and winked at her mum and dad, Theodore Nott and Daphne Nott (nee Greengrass), then waved at Draco and Astoria – her maternal uncle and aunt.

"Potter, Albus," Albus gulped nervously as his name was called, before taking the steps as slowly as he could; he hated the limelight and being the centre of attention. "NEWTs in Astronomy, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, The Mind Arts, History of Magic and Ancient Runes." Ginny clapped tearfully, getting to her feet, closely followed by Draco. Albus stared in surprise; Draco had only stood for his own children so far. A warm feeling spread through him, he turned and saw Harry scowling at him and it clicked. Harry Potter may be his father . . . but Draco Malfoy was his dad.

(*)(*)(*)

"May I have this dance Miss. Malfoy?" said Albus, a teasing grin on his face as he held out his arm to her. Ginny looked on proudly, Harry and Ron seeming content to shoot murderous glances at Rose and Albus whilst drowning in firewhiskey.

"Of course you may, Mr. Potter," she smiled, taking his hand and getting to her feet. Her smile never faded as she placed her hands on his shoulders, feeling his own on her waist as they began to spin gracefully (in her case) and clumsily (in his case) around the dance floor.

"I warn you," he grinned as he spun her under his arm and pulled her close, "I have two left feet."

"I dance well enough for two anyway," she smirked as they moved; her sleek platinum in contrast to his inky raven black. The skirts of her dress swirled softly, making them appear as a medieval prince with his princess at the ball. Beside them danced Rose and Delphin, artfully twirling, Albus shook his head fondly at the sight of one of his best friends laying a protective hand over Rose's probably pregnant stomach as they danced – even though she wasn't yet showing. Across the room danced Draco and Hermione, the years seeming to melt of their features as their love shone tangibly between them. Scorpius had disappeared, no doubt to find Lily somewhere away from Harry's prying eyes.

The perfect night was shattered like a crystal glass falling to the ground, when Ron Weasley staggered to his feet, his chin wet with spilled firewhiskey. There were cries of alarm as he drunkenly leapt forward, clutching a serving knife in his hand as he stalked towards the unsuspecting couple. Ginny was on her feet in an instant, reaching for her wand, Minerva pushed her way through the crowd, searching for the source of the disruption. Harry and Neville looked on in mild amusement though they pretended not to notice.

Albus cried out as he saw Ron pull back his hand, Cassiopeia let out a low shriek of shock as the iron blade stabbed through the air . . .

And buried itself in Rose Granger's pelvis, just above her navel.

"Better my daughter is dead than in the hands of a Zabini," he slurred drunkenly, stabbing a second time, and then a third before Minerva struck him down with a stunning spell and knelt beside the harshly breathing girl. Bloody flowers blossomed across the front of the sky blue dress, Rose shaking and gasping in pain, clutching at her bloody stomach as Ginny and Hermione knelt beside her, Hermione would tears falling down her cheeks, her skin ashen. Albus hurried forward to catch Delphin, who seemed to have gone into shock, catching his stunned friend before he fell to the floor.

"Bella!" said Albus sharply, under his breath. He hadn't had to call on the Shadow in months and she had been content to haunt Hogwarts, causing trouble and terrorising the students. Albus didn't really need her anymore, he had Cass for when he needed a release of his emotions – she was better than dark magic, her love always seemed to instantly numb his pain – and he was powerful. His own magical reserves were formidable, and using them he could accomplish great things. Cass turned to look at him in horror, the connection between them, which had been created when they had first invoked the Mark of the Outcasts together allowed her to see the shadowy form of Bellatrix Lestrange, manifesting beside her lover.

"No!" there was a female cry, and Albus whipped his head around to see Ron back on his feet advancing on Hermione's turned back as the brunette woman worked furiously to stem her daughters bleeding. There was a flash of dirty blonde hair and the nearest person to him, Claire Williams – Hugo's girlfriend – threw herself onto him and tried to wrest the knife from his grasp. There was a brief struggle, everybody to stunned to move forward and help, but Albus' eyes widened, realising what was going to happen before it happened. Ron slashed the knife through the air and Claire crumpled, her hands flying to her slit throat as blood poured from the cut. Hugo screamed as he caught site of what had happened, breaking into a run as he made for the scene. Ron's eyes widened, the sticky blood splashing on his face seemed to have sobered him, before anyone could overcome their shock and stop him, he turned on his heel and fled, seeming horrified at what he had just done.

"Kill him," commanded Albus softly, glaring at Ron and Bellatrix responded, flitting after him, unseen and unheard by the rest of the crowd. He could feel his heart constrict, his heightened emotional state tearing at the wards as they sought to free his darkness. Seeing the struggle on his face, Cass lay her hand on his shoulder warningly, and instantly he seemed to relax – if only slightly – and the darkness remained chained and tempered within. Hermione and Draco had set up a series of wards and psychic blocks within his heart, thus unknowingly creating two separate persona's according to Bellatrix – There was Albus as he was, strong, pure-hearted and loyal to his friends; and then there was his Dark Side, which fought to take control in times of extreme emotional instability. Bellatrix warned him that should he ever succumb to his dark side, he would lose himself to his primal instincts, becoming a being of pure power, passion and rage.

"Avada Kedavra!" cried Draco suddenly, his face twisted in anger as he took in his daughter's prone body and the sight of his son, catatonic, holding his dead girlfriend. The curse flew over Ron's head, missing by an inch before the older man reached the doors of the Great Hall. Bellatrix moved hot on Ron's heels, her spectral claws slashing across his back, drawing ribbons of blood. "Petrificus Totalus," Minerva's spell caught him in the small of his back, and Professors Flitwick and Lupin went forward to capture him. They weren't making the same mistake twice. Bellatrix cackled and swiped as the professors disarmed and bound him, tearing bloody furrows across his face much to their shock and horror.

"Stop her," hissed Cassiopeia, "If he dies your magical signature will be all over him."

Albus gritted his teeth in frustration but nodded, "Bella . . . Return." The Shadow let out a wail of anger as it returned to his side, unsated in its desire to kill but forced to comply with her master's command.

Harry finally got to his feet, disarming Draco from behind and binding him with a single spell, "Draco Malfoy, I hereby place you under arrest for the use of an Unforgivable."

There was instant uproar.


	13. Chapter 12

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Flight of the Dove**

She walked with a purpose through the halls of her previous employment, her eyes hard and unyielding as she moved with a grim demeanour her former employees had never seen before. They stared and whispered, harsh gossip and envious murmurs, pointing accusing fingers at the middle aged witch who clutched a folder of documents to her as if they were worth gold and platinum. She didn't care for those filthy glares, she fixed them with her own, her chocolate eyes crackling with an energy that made it very clear that she was a war heroine and that she was still to be feared.

His secretary tried to stop her, rising from her desk and moving to block her path. She raised an eyebrow at the little chit, eyeing the voluptuous raven haired cretin with a disdainful once over. She remembered the girl from her own days at the Ministry, Romilda Vane, shunted from department to department because quite frankly she was absolutely useless. She seemed to have risen high though, senior secretary to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The brunette glared, sending Romilda scarpering back for the relative safety of her desk and Hermione chuckled despite herself. It would seem that sleeping with the boss gained her position but not courage.

"I love what you've done with the place," said Hermione in a smug tone as she walked into _his _office, causing him to look up from his own stack of paperwork. In her days, the office had been neat and orderly. Now it seemed as if a tornado had struck, sending her once carefully stacked folders and files crashing around the room. A bottle of oak matured mead, Madam Rosmerta's finest; lay half empty on the desk, near a pair of crystal tumblers that were stained slightly by hard use.

"What are you doing here?" asked Harry venomously, taken aback by the way she sat across from him as though she owned the office, she was not somebody he wished to see . . . ever.

"Getting my husband's release forms signed," said Hermione curtly, placing her folder onto the desk and extracting a thin stack of documents, "I understand you wish to extend his stay in Azkaban for another three years."

"You understand correctly," he laughed harshly, "What makes you think I would allow a death eater his freedom?"

"He has served a year Harry," said Hermione, her tone unyielding, "I will see him freed today."

"You don't have that authority," said Harry snidely, "You threw it all away for death eater scum. What happened to you Hermione? The girl I knew would never shack up with a ferrety bastard."

"Strange you should mention that," smirked Hermione, unruffled by his insult, "The boys I knew would never abuse their children, commit murder and then bury evidence to bail each other out of a life sentence, one we both know Ron deserves."

"Ron is a war hero," stated Harry in a tone of superiority, "Certain allowances are to be made, he served time for his crime, but his services to the wizarding world are enough to forgive a few minor lapses in judgement."

"Curious then that in my absence, cold-blooded murder now warrants a fine and six months whilst invoking an unforgivable to defend one's children requires one, no, now four years in Azkaban," pointed out Hermione, she shook her head at her once best friend, "Your parents and Sirius would be ashamed of you." Harry recoiled as if struck, hurt evident in his eyes, she had hit him where it hurt the most – well he went after her family, he would soon learn that Hermione was a Malfoy in more than just name.

"Despite your ridicule and slander of me in the past few years," continued Hermione, her voice bitingly cold now, "The name Hermione Granger still carries weight in this world; you do not want me as your enemy Harry. So I suggest you sign the release."

"Are you threatening me?" he scowled, recovering from her earlier insult (a home truth), "Need I remind you that I can give you a cell right beside your dear husband for such a threat?"

"You can but you won't," said Hermione in a self-assured voice that he hated, she had always been more intelligent, more powerful – not in raw magical ability, but in magical skill – and he was not ready to fully take her on. In time yes, the day would soon come when the Malfoys paid their dues.

"Why won't I?"

"Because I have Albus' memories," Harry hissed angrily when she brought up his son, "His memories are very incriminating when it comes to you, Rose is healed enough to give full testimony against Ron, Scorpius and Cassiopeia brings the wealth and political connections of Malfoy Holdings to our side, and let us not forget Hugo; my son is a broken mess since Ron killed his girlfriend, you should never underestimate a mother's thirst for revenge when her children have been hurt."

Harry cursed under his breath, defeated, he fixed her with an icy glare but signed Draco Malfoy's release forms anyway, his pride stung by her smug smirk of victory.

"This isn't over Hermione," spat Harry as she collected the papers and rose from her seat to leave.

"Touché Harry," said Hermione with a grim look in her eyes, "This is just the beginning."

(*)(*)(*)

"Do you James Sirius Potter take Alison Hannah Longbottom to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to nurture and to cherish, to love and to protect, in sickness and in health . . ." the Minister rambled on and on, James tuning him out and waiting for his lips to stop moving so that he could day his line. In the front row sat his mother and future mother-in-law; both dabbing their eyes tearfully. Harry sat near them, a smile on his face. Lily rolled her eyes and winked, making a rude gesture with her fingers signifying what he and Alison would be doing on their honeymoon. The rest of his extended family was sprawled around the audience, their red hair standing flaming in the sunlight. He spied Albus sitting in the second row, a bright grin, eerily reminiscent of his god-brother Teddy with his hand clasped around that of Cassiopeia Malfoy. She gave him a knowing look that seemed to say, "You owe me." The mere fact that they were present was enough to make James break down in tears of happiness; Albus had all but disowned his family after the incident at his graduation.

"I do," he said when finally the minister stopped blathering, earning a brilliant smiled from his bride, who began paying rapt attention to the Minister as he began spouting the exact same lines to her. Beside him, his three groomsmen were all flirting shamelessly with their relative bridesmaids, save for Joshua Jordan who didn't play for that team. Instead, Josh kept glancing at his cousin Louis, who smirked suggestively in reply –James didn't want to think about that. Beside him, blue hair swaying slightly in the wind, his best man Teddy smiled, a smile identical to the one James was accustomed to seeing on his brother Albus.

"I do," said Alison, and he grabbed her and pulled his new wife in for a searing kiss before the Minister could begin boring them to death again. Uncle George wolf-whistled approvingly.

"Then by the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now continue what you are currently doing," the Minister shook his head in irritation as the crowd rose as one, applauding the newlyweds.

He turned to his best man as Alison turned to her maid of honour, a bright grin on his face, "Thanks bro."

"Anytime mate," said Teddy in Albus' voice, "You know how I love to pull one over on our dear father."

Really, Harry should have known. Albus was a potions master and Teddy was a metamorphmagus. It hadn't been difficult for the three brothers and Cassiopeia to find a way around Harry's ruling. The four of them were the only ones who knew that the hipflask attached to "Teddy's" belt was filled with polyjuice potion, nobody noticed that halfway through the ceremony "Albus'" hair had filled with a few streaks of turquoise before fading back to their inky black when Cass nudged him. The three were brothers, their houses would never change that no matter how estranged they became.

"You're still my baby brother Al," murmured James as his brother disappeared into the crowd to change back to himself and for Teddy to do the same. It didn't matter to him that the photos would show Teddy as his best man, that everyone thought it had been Teddy.

_He knew_ it had been Albus . . . and that was all that mattered.

(*)(*)(*)

Lily Potter settled silently in the corner booth of the Hogs Head pub, glancing over her shoulder every few minutes to ensure she had not been followed. Her school trunk, laden with all her belongings, had been magically shrunken and enchanted with a featherweight charm before being stowed away in her pocket. Her ruby hair was hidden by her dark hood, her silhouette shrouded by her flowing cloak. She had snuck of the castle tonight, for what would no doubt be the last time; she couldn't deny it any longer. She would have to leave Hogwarts . . . there was no chance in hell that she could remain, not now. She waited impatiently, her foot tapping on the dank stone floor beneath the battered table, her fingers strumming an eerie rhythm across the half rotted wood.

The door creaked open, the little bell tinkling to signify the arrival of another patron, Lily looked up and sighed in relief as she recognized him, ever beneath his own hood and cloak. She had heard rumours over the past eighteen months, dark rumours that she dared not believe, of mysterious deaths and a new movement, slowly gathering power in the outskirts of her father's perfectly ordered world. He settled across from her, a faint smile on his face as he took in the sight of her . . . they hadn't seen each other in nearly one and a half years. But he was the only one she could trust in this moment, she was only a few months into her seventh year at Hogwarts, she was still legally a minor, she didn't dare go to her mother lest word of her actions inevitable reach her father. It was no secret that Harry had his agents keeping tabs on Ginny. She couldn't contact Scorpius either, he and Hermione were very busy trying to maintain Malfoy Holdings and Harry was watching them both. Draco had served a year in Azkaban, much to the protest and anger of the Slytherin community. Especially after Ron had been made to pay a massive fine, make financial restitution to the Williams family and then been placed under six months in Azkaban – he had gotten off by pleading mental instability due to the "pain caused by Hermione's infidelity" and had also used his title as a member of the illustrious Golden Trio. She didn't doubt her own father had pulled strings, and as the name Ronald Weasley – War Hero – carried significant weight in the magical world, there were very few wizarding judges alive who would dare convict him to Azkaban for a life imprisonment as he deserved. Hermione had been furious, but when they had tried to extend his prison stay she had gone after them with fire and blood. Now she was too busy having to care for Draco, whose incarceration had broken him emotionally. She had heard from Cass that he was doing better now, his nightmares and paranoia were beginning to leave him under Hermione's loving administrations but the injustice still rankled.

"You called baby sister?" asked Albus, his green eyes filled with amusement. How she had missed him, her big brother. She had only caught glimpses of him the previous year when he had showed up to visit Cass, Albus was very busy these days; the Outcast movement was gathering a lot of support and many others had been sighted wearing the strange tattoo she had seen on her boyfriend and brothers wrist. Claire Williams was their symbol, every Slytherin family in Britain knew her name, the injustice of her murder, and how her murderer had gotten off with a slap on the wrist because he had been a war-hero whilst she was just another Slytherin. She had been seeing Scorpius since the end of her fifth year and he had made a point to visit her during Hogsmeade visits – he had always told her how Albus was doing, Albus had broken of all ties with the family after Rose's stabbing – but when she needed him he had come and that was all that mattered.

"I need help Al," she said quietly, the strain in her voice rapidly dimming his mirth and he was instantly alert, concern evident on his hooded features.

"What do you need?" he asked, his eyes darting around the room to ascertain that they were not being watched. Lily was still a student; no doubt a nosy villager would have her carted straight back to the castle if they noticed her.

"I need to leave the country," she said urgently, "I need a new identity, a new wand, but most importantly I need to get as far from Britain as I possibly can."

"What brought this on?" asked Albus, feigning calm as internally he reeled in shock, what could his baby sister have done that she needed to flee, that she was willing to take a new wand so that nobody could trace her magical signature. Lily looked at her brother, a few tears filling her eyes, wondering if she could tell him . . . her decision was made when she saw the concern and worry evident in his gaze. This wasn't James or Teddy, the brothers who would cart her to her parents to "solve it as a family should," this was Albus, he would respect her decision no matter what. He had trusted her with the knowledge that he had been abused, therefore she knew she could trust him with her condition.

"I'm pregnant," Lily whispered, "And I can't stay here anymore."

Albus visibly recoiled, his mask of indifference slipping as shock alone splayed across his face. This was not what he had envisioned in the slightest, but a part of him understood his sisters need to flee – he remembered what had happened to Rose when Ron had thought she was just dating a Zabini. Hugo had been a mess for six months after the incident, his grades had slipped, he had turned to dark magic and had become a ghost of himself.

"Why though?" he asked as he regained his composure.

"You saw what happened to Rose when Ron thought she was dating Delphin; and he doesn't even acknowledge her as his daughter anymore, what do you think dad will do to me if he finds out I'm pregnant with _Scorpius Malfoy's _son," she said fearfully, "I'm not going to let them hurt my baby Al, even if I have to spend the rest of my life on the run."

"The protection of the manor–" began Albus before she cut him off.

"I'm not going to raise my child in hiding Albus," she said fervently, "I want him to have a normal childhood, and he's not going to have that here in Britain."

"C'mon," said Albus softly, extending him arm for her to grab on to, "Let's apparate to my office, it's late, everyone is probably at home, I can get you sorted and you can be gone by dawn."

(*)(*)(*)

_He was on the shores of the Black Lake, walking aimlessly when he saw her, dirty blonde hair flowing in the wind as she dipped her legs into the chill waters. The Giant Squid flourished its tentacles lazily in the distance as he made to approach her, hesitant yet needing to see her, even if it was just an illusion._

"_You couldn't protect me Hugh," murmured Claire quietly, seeming to not notice he was behind her, tossing a few pebbles into the water. They splashed dully, gentle ripples flowing from where they had made contact and sank. Sank, just as she had sank into his arms, her throat cut, her eyes glassy and lifeless. _

"_I tried you know," he whispered, coming up beside her and taking a seat Indian-style on the shore, "I swear I tried."_

"_It wasn't enough," she said softly, not looking up at him, preferring to stare out across the dark expanse of the lake. _

"_I'm so sorry Claire. I'm so sorry," he pleaded for forgiveness, "I was too far away when he killed you." It was true, he had gone to get them drinks, two butterbeers and when he turned at the noise, it had been too late to save her. _

"_You as good as killed me yourself," she whispered hauntingly, and before his eyes bloody crease began to etch itself across her throat, her eyes filling with tears as scarlet spilled across her white blouse. _

"_No . . ." whispered Hugo, as she slipped into the waters, disappearing under the murky depths before he could save her, losing her once more. _

"NO! Come back Claire!" he cried, his flaring open as he felt somebody shaking him by the shoulders. Strawberry blonde waves filled his vision, streaked through with hot pink; he squinted sleepily to see who it was, meeting her aqua blue eyes and shaking his head. Francesca Montague, a girl in his year, one of Claire's former dorm-mates.

"You ok Hugo?" she asked in concerned, her face pale – she had heard him cry out for Claire, who had been a close friend of hers, even if she hadn't taken her death as badly as Hugo had – "You were crying out and shaking."

"'Mfine," he mumbled, realising he was curled up on one of the couches of the common room, his Potions Textbook lying abandoned on the floor, having fallen from his grasp when he fell asleep.

"You know," said Francesca comfortingly, sitting down and placing his head on her lap, he flinched away but slowly lay it back down when she started stroking his blonde hair, "I miss her too, but you can't let your grief consume you Hugo."

"She was your friend," said Hugo tiredly, "But she was my girlfriend, and I never got the chance to tell her that I loved her. I never get to fall asleep holding her again, I never get to spend half the night talking to her, curled up by the fire."

"I know," said Francesca quietly.

"No you don't know!" yelled Hugo, "You don't know what it feels to lose somebody you love and then have the bastard who murdered her get away scot free just because she was a Slytherin!" Francesca seemed unfazed by his outburst, though a single tear welled in her left eye, instantly making Hugo regret his harsh words.

"I had a sister you know," she said in a thick voice.

"You _had _a sister?" asked Hugo, realising her implication and feeling absurdly guilty for implying she didn't know the pain of losing someone.

"She died," she said, her voice still thick with unshed tears, "When I was ten, she was killed in an Auror raid. A miscast spell you know, she was eleven, due to start Hogwarts in a month. Seraphim was always a curious girl, she heard the shouts and the saw the flashes of light and she left out room to investigate. I was too scared to go with her."

"I'm sorry," said Hugo, it seemed the appropriate thing to say and he was at a loss of words on how else to respond.

"Thing was," continued Francesca as if he had not spoken, "There was no reason for them to raid our Chateau, it was just because my granddad supported Voldemort in the last war. Sera died because those in power couldn't let go of the old stereotypes. And her death got brushed under the rug, the auror responsible just got two weeks suspension."

"How did you get over losing her?" asked Hugo, looking up at her, there were tears in both their eyes now.

"You get over losing a wallet . . . or a watch. But a loved one, that pain stays with you. They never really go away, it stays with you forever, and we can never truly get over losing them. Instead you just have to learn how to move on, to live your life _for them_. Even if they're not here, you have to remember they won't want you to waste your life grieving."

(*)(*)(*)

"Unicorn hair, mahogany, twelve and three quarter inches," Lily noted as Albus handed her a new wand, which he had extracted from behind a portrait on his wall. She had been astounded by the things he had secreted in the hidden safe, but several floo calls later and an owl had delivered the relevant paperwork and documents for her. It was half past one in the morning, she could tell that her brother was dead on his feet as he ploughed on to finalise everything she would need for her departure.

"If Scor had kept his _wand_ in check, you wouldn't be in this mess," snapped Albus bitterly, like as not this was the last time he would see his sister in his life. Both of them knew without having to say it that she could never return without having a target painted on her unborn child's back and Lily was not the type to willingly endanger a person that she loved.

"Who told you he made the first move," she forced herself to grin, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.

"Speaking of Scorpius," said Albus, causing her to bite her lip nervously, "What are you going to tell him when he gets here in . . ." he checked his watch, "ten minutes."

"You called him?" cried Lily in alarm, "I was going to leave him a letter!"

"You don't think he deserves more than that," said Albus shrewdly, "I thought you were the Ravenclaw, use your common sense Lily, you're about to disappear of the face of the world with his child and not even tell him?"

"You're right," she muttered, somewhat petulantly, "I just don't know what to say to him. What if he tries and stops me."

"Your Portkey leaves in twenty five minutes," he said, handing her a ring, "Put it on, that way you have fifteen minutes to talk and then you'll leave before he can stop you." It left a bitter taste in his mouth that he was being an accessory to something that would no doubt hurt his best friend and future brother-in-law, but Lily was family. He had precious little when it came to family.

"My papers?" she asked softly, knowing what her brother was risking for her.

"Here," he handed her a stack of documents, "You are now Selene Rivers and I've called in a few favours, you'll be finishing your final year of school at the Salem Academy of Magic . . . here" he added as an afterthought, handing her a heavy bag – enchanted with an undetectable expansion charm – that jingled with gold, "It's all the money I have in the office, it's too late to go to Gringotts but there's twenty thousand galleons in there."

"Albus . . ." she didn't know what to say, "This is too much. . ." she managed finally.

"You are my sister," he said firmly, "and you will be raising my nephew. You need it more than I do."

(*)(*)(*)

Hermione sighed deeply as she settled down in the large double bed she shared with her husband, who was currently fast asleep beside her, a half empty vial of _dreamless sleep_ lying on his bedside table. She missed him, the man he had been before his imprisonment, before the dementors have emotionally tortured him for a year – Hermione of all people knew what dark memories her husband would have had to live through – and though he was healing slowly, she doubted he would ever be the same. She still loved him, she would die loving him, and she couldn't help but begin to hate her former friends and allies for hurting her family so badly.

Hugo hadn't responded to her letters since the incident, there had been letters coming from Hogwarts bearing his name but Hermione was no fool, she could tell that her son's best friends were the ones writing the letters; probably on her son's askance, written in an attempt not to worry her. She made it a point to be at Hogsmeade on his weekends out of school, even if not to talk to him, because really, what teenager would want to spend time would their mother on their days off from school. No, Hermione went just to catch a glimpse of him, to assure herself he was still healthy. She was at least certain he was eating; his friends Alex and Damon had assured her they were forcing him to eat regularly.

Rose carried herself with an air of sadness that no teenager should have too, the knowledge that she could never carry children had been a punch in the gut to her, the knowledge that she had lost her first child even more so. She had admitted to her mother that she hadn't been ready for a child, that at that stage of her life she didn't see one in her plan and had only suspected carrying it, so she hadn't felt the loss so keenly. Nonetheless, she had lost a child and Hermione had never been more grateful for Delphin Zabini's presence in their lives – those first few weeks, he had been the only one who could get her to eat, or sleep, or shower. Now though, Rose had thrown herself into the Outcast movement, using her position as a student of magical law to spread the group's ideology with her fellow students.

Cassiopeia and Scorpius were both floundering trying to keep their father's business aloft, both were fresh out of school and though they had sharp skills when it came to finance and management, they lacked the experience to maintain such a large conglomerate. Hermione helped as much as she could, but with her own business interests needing constant supervision – she had been working on a new venture before that faithful graduation night when it all went to hell – but the bad publicity since the incident had caused her immense difficulties and the project was taking much more time and galleons that initially expected.

Then there was Albus, her fifth cub, the one who had joined her family – who had first been nephew, then became a surrogate son and now if she was correct in her assumptions, having been cleaning his room the other day and finding a very tasteful ring secreted on his bookshelf, that he would soon be a son-in-law. Hermione spent most of her time working from home these days, so that she could be close to Draco if he needed her, and so when she got bored she usually cleaned. With the exception of Rose's room, ever since she had gone in there to collect the laundry and found a riding crop. No, she refused to think of that – Rose had Delphin did not do such things – she convinced herself. They had house elves to be sure, but Hermione had been raised a muggle-born and was therefore not completely comfortable about having them do all the work, and to alleviate her own distress over the matter, she had taken to doing housework, much to the elves protest. The House Elves of Malfoy Manor; were much to their own horror and to Hermione's delight, the only elves in Britain to be paid wages and given a proper uniform.

"'Mione," whispered Draco sleepily as she shifted beside him, trying to get comfortable. He moved, twisting until she felt an arm loop around her back and hold her comfortingly close, "I'm sorry being for being so difficult these past few months 'Mione," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and the heavy with the effects of the potion.

"It's ok Draco," Hermione whispered as she snuggled against him, "We'll be ok."

He pressed his lips to her forehead before closing his eyes, quickly falling back to sleep, but staying awake long enough to make sure Hermione was peacefully asleep first. Only then, when he was sure she was out for the night, did he allow himself to stop fighting the potion and succumb to its effects.

(*)(*)(*)

"WHAT THE BLEEDING HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE LEAVING!" screamed Scorpius, and Albus was thankful he had had the good sense to silence his office before his blonde friend had arrived.

"Hear her out Scorpius," Albus said wearily, his head resting on his hand as the other absently tapped across his desk. A potion simmered nearby, one of his latest creations that required to brew for seven days before it would be ready for the next ingredient. When it was ready it would be an extremely lethal one of a kind poison that was untraceable, which had been ordered by the Williams Family, for the price of eighteen thousand galleons. Albus often did work like this, using the earnings to help keep Malfoy Holdings afloat. Even with Hermione's keen financial skills and Scorpius' inherited business acumen, neither had Draco's formidable experience and the Malfoy patriarch was still not ready to return to work after his stay in Azkaban. Cassiopeia had Albus both led the potions department of the business, Cass managing the legal side of the business whilst Albus dealt with the illegal. He also led the Outcasts, a group which was rapidly growing in numbers.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HEAR HER OUT, SHE'S TAKING MY KID FROM ME"

"Would you rather I stay then?" asked Lily in an acid tone, "And force you to have to bury your son when my father finds out?" Scorpius recoiled, thinking of Rose and Delphin, still grieving for having lost a child – she had been in the fifth week of her pregnancy when stabbed - but the death blow was that the damage to Rose's womb had rendered her infertile and that she couldn't carry a child for the rest of her life.

"Please don't go Lily," he said in a voice that was significantly softer, "I can keep you safe."

"I can't," she whispered, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks, "You know I can't . . . Please don't make this any harder than it already is."

"I love you," he said softly, pulling her into a tight embrace, "I will bring you home one day . . . I promise I won't rest till Britain is safe for you and my child," he was serious. Even if he had to kill every single person who held a prejudice against his family, even if he had to water the fields with their blood to do so, he would ensure that they were a family one day.

"Name him Orion," said Scorpius, "After the Hunter," she nodded tearfully, unable to speak. It was a Black family tradition to name their children after the stars, and Scorpius was the last direct pureblood male descendant of that house. She would name him as he had asked, because even though she didn't believe him when he said he would make it safe for her to return, she would make sure her child knew about his father who loved him . . . and his grandfather who had torn them apart.

The ring glowed blue, and she pressed her lips to his in a final kiss before there was a distinct pull in her navel and she was gone, leaving Scorpius to clutch at empty air.


	14. Chapter 13

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Love and Vengeance**

Percy Weasley yawned loudly as he floo'ed home from work, worn out from a long day at The Department of International Magical Co-Operation, of which he was the Head. He was home late, as was usual this time of the year, and was not surprised to find the living room empty. No doubt Audrey and his daughter Molly had already gone to bed and his second daughter Lucy was at Hogwarts. It made him feel old when he thought of it, that Molly was already married and that Lucy had but two years left at school before she graduated. When had his girls grown up?

Molly was currently staying with them whilst her husband – an auror – was away on a mission in Russia.

He sighed wearily, helping himself to the cup of tea that had been left out for him on the kitchen counter, enchanted with a heating charm so that it did not cool whilst it sat waiting for him. It never failed to bring a smile to his lips, that even if Audrey had retired for the night she left out his evening tea. Dinner was less of a worry, due to his late hours he often ate at the Ministry canteen. The matron there, Martha, was a sturdy, old woman oddly reminiscent of his mother; she was forever trying to "fatten him up" because he looked "a tad peaky."

Family was the most important thing in the world to Percy these days, especially after his less than admirable actions during the war. It still haunted him at night, that his father and brothers; Bill, George and Ron had all nearly died whilst he was behaving like a prat. He hadn't been there when they needed him, so after the dust had cleared and the war had been won he had made a promise to himself that he would always be there for his family in the future. He had been sympathetic to Albus until Harry had filled the family in on his errant son's actions – despicable behaviour – and Percy had believed him because after all, Harry was Harry and he was beyond reproach on such matters.

He had never been so morally torn as when Ron had been convicted of murder. Percy knew the law, having helped write a great many of them over the past twenty years but he also knew that Ron was his brother – his family. He couldn't turn his back on him, no matter the crime, because he had turned his back once and Fred had died before he could fully make things right. So he dared not alienate Ron and had made amends for his own betrayal during the war by using his standing as a Department Head to lighten his brother's sentence.

He didn't feel better for it, instead of relief that he had helped his brother; all that filled him was bitterness for the man who had put him in such a situation.

The cup was empty, it was time for bed, Percy rose and made for the stairs. As he reached the upper storey, he could not resist the temptation to check in on his daughter. It was a fatherly habit, deeply ingrained over the years from having raising two girls; he knew his brothers did the same. He peeked in through the door and his heart dropped from his chest.

There was Molly, slumped across the floor, her chest still – she wasn't breathing – her eyes bulbous and glassy. He rushed to her side, shouting for his wife as he pumped his daughter's chest, trying to restart her lungs. Absently, he remembered he was a wizard and pointed his wand at her, yelling, "Enervate," loudly and hysterically.

She was still and unresponsive. Audrey was there, he was unaware that she had come in but he vaguely noted that she was crying, clutching at their late daughter and screaming in anguish. Her screams didn't affect him; he was staring at the chocolate frog wrapper in Molly's hand. Taking it, noticing the smudge of chocolate on his daughters blue lips, his body burned with fury and grief as he read the card.

Instead of a picture of a famous witch of wizard, Claire Williams stared blankly up at him.

Where it should have a brief biography, all it had was a single sentence written in a flowing black scrawl.

_So your family knows what it is to bury a daughter._

_-Sophia Williams_

(*)(*)(*)

"That was extremely stupid," said Xavier, glaring at the middle-aged woman who stood petulantly facing him.

"She was my daughter!" snarled Sophia, her blonde hair streaked with grey as she turned lividly on the Outcast before her.

"Albus is furious Sophia," said Xavier, not giving ground. He could understand her anger and her decision to take retribution – but signing her name – a petty act of vengeance but all the same, the Williams family were very public in their support for the Outcasts. No doubt Harry would use this to his advantage and attempt to turn people against their movement.

"Then why are you here? To _punish_ me?" she asked incredulously, her mark twitching uncomfortably against her skin.

"Of course not," scoffed Xavier, "I am here because he sent me here to warn you. You need to go into hiding Sophia; you and your entire family." The original Outcasts had since become Albus' lieutenants in maintaining their ever growing numbers, their marks now carried a silver outline to signify that they ranked higher than the average Outcast. Their movement was to be a bloodless one, Albus and Hermione had both decreed that to gain the equality they deserved they needed to be regarded as saviours and not oppressors. They were not the death eaters, who murdered and pillaged for their own satisfaction. They were the Outcasts; and although they used dark magic as a tool, their goal was to achieve a world in which there was no prejudiced bigotry rather than the genocide Voldemort had fought for.

Unfortunately, several of the older families who had suffered the most were more than willing to fight fire with fire. The Williams Family were chief amongst them.

"Why would we do that?" asked Sophia with a raised eyebrow, "If the Aurors come to arrest me they will no doubt lock me in Azkaban. I will become just another martyr for the cause."

"No you won't," laughed Xavier without humour, "We have our contacts in the Auror Office, Old Scarhead wants your heads on a plate. No doubt he will have a cover story all ready, but rest assured Sophia, if you do not run you will all be dead by dawn."

Sophia blanched at his dry tone, and the mirthless way in which he blandly described her fate.

"We'll leave immediately," she said hurriedly, "But where too?" She had other children to protect and her husband to think of, her husband who had been innocent and unknowing of her vendetta.

"Ireland . . . or France," said Xavier after a moment's thought, "Somewhere out of Potter's jurisdiction but near enough so that we can contact you if need be."

He turned on his heel, shaking his head at the woman's stupidity – going after the Weasley's of all people – before he apparated back to the apartment he shared with Kat. The couple hadn't wanted to live in either of their parents mansions and had thus purchased a spacious penthouse in muggle London. He had been asleep when Albus' patronus had reached him and sent him in to do the damage control whilst Hugo – newly graduated from Hogwarts and working at the Ministry – did what he could to corrupt the tracking spell Harry had on all notable pure-blood families in Britain, especially those he believed where in league with the Outcasts.

"Are they gone?" asked Kat from her side of the bed as he sat on the edge of his, not ready to sleep yet. As always, she had waited up for him to return.

"They're leaving immediately," he said, "But that woman very nearly destroyed our entire cause because she acted without thinking of the consequences. If Ms. Weasley hadn't floo-called Albus to let him know about his cousin's death, we'd all be rotting in Azkaban by dawn."

"You shouldn't worry so much," said Kat, rising from the bed and rubbing his shoulders.

"You don't worry enough Kat," he replied as she worked out the tension in his shoulders.

"True," she said, as she laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his chest, "Because I have you to do all the worrying for me."

"What would I do without you?" he sighed, turning slightly to kiss her on her cheek.

(*)(*)(*)

Cassiopeia smiled as she walked through the gardens of Malfoy Manor, her hand clasped around her lover's wrist. The past few weeks had been difficult for them both, what with the William's family scandal among other things but at the same time a lot of good had been accomplished. Her father had finally taken back the reins of the family business, and though he had been appalled at the state of affairs, he had agreed that she had done the best she could. It had been her alone holding up Malfoy Holdings for the past two months, ever since Lily had left the country Scorpius had been a volatile wreck. Hermione had been too busy caring for Draco and managing her own business interests to be able to offer significant assistance, other than managing her personal department that is. Rose and Hugo didn't work for the business, they both had jobs at Gringotts and The Ministry respectively and Albus was too busy managing the potions department and the Outcasts to be much help either. Nevertheless she had prevailed, thanking her lucky stars that she if the stress turned her hair grey, it wouldn't be noticeable because of her natural hair colour.

It was days like this that she enjoyed the most though, when it was just her and Albus, free from all the cares and worries of the world. The two of them, like it had been back in the days when they first began dating, in secluded corridors or by the shores of the Black Lake, in that hidden cove that only they knew.

"I love you," she said, out of the blue and breaking the companionable silence. He grinned nervously at her, "I love you too Cassie," he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek before leading her on, stopping only when they reached her favourite part of the grounds, her grandmother Narcissa's rose garden. Narcissa had planted them during her husband's time in Azkaban, nurturing them as she herself slowly lost the will to live. They bloomed around her, perfectly trimmed bushes of pure white and jet black; the black roses had always been Cass' favourite though. It had taken Narcissa years to achieve that particular shade, slowly cultivating and enchanting till the petals were sable and the leaves were silver, creating an ethereal wonderland, just out of sight of the Manor itself. The delicate scents of the flowers filled her nostrils; she closed her eyes as she savoured them . . . only then noticing how jittery her boyfriend seemed.

"Are you ok?" she asked, chuckling as he started, not stung in the slightest that he seemed to have forgotten she was there. He did that sometimes, whenever he was really nervous or thoughtful. She wondered what had him on edge today though.

"Just nervous," he answered, smiling at her as his hand delved into his pocket. She raised an eyebrow, not knowing why he didn't been able to meet her eyes. Then he dropped to one knee and everything made sense, the nervousness, the long walk to her favourite part of the grounds, the shyness, the over-protectiveness he had had towards his hidey-holes in his bedroom – their bedroom, seeing as she rarely slept in her own anymore. Butterflies erupted inside her, to hell with that, Cassiopeia felt as if she had the entire zoo was rampaging through her.

"Cassiopeia Astoria Malfoy, you once told me that you were named after a constellation. So last night I looked into the sky, and while I was looking for your stars, I matched each other star with a reason for why I loved you. I was actually doing really good until I ran out of stars. Which isn't the stars fault, it's just that I love you so much that it hurts and that there are too many reasons to name. Because you're strong and beautiful and intelligent and caring and I can go on and on until I run out of positive adjectives because you're every single one of them, you're my best friend Cass, my shoulder to cry on, the one person I can always count on, you're the love of my life. My everything; and as long as you're holding my hand, I could conquer the entire world with the other. So Cass, will you marry me?"

Cassiopeia smiled down at him, clasping her hands onto his shoulders and drawing him to his feet, tears in her eyes.

"Yes," she managed, before kissing him as passionately as she could.

(*)(*)(*)

"We have a new son-in-law," smirked Draco as he settled back down on the recliner, grinning as he straightened the telescope they had mounted to the banisters of their bedroom balcony specifically for looking at the stars. Since recovering from his incarceration, he had begun channelling his rage and anger into something productive – helping Albus build his forces and use his business connections to grease palms and influence other major power players to change sides or take a stance of neutrality at the very least. He also had begun training in duelling again, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to go head to head with the Weasel. Ordinarily, Hermione would have been less than impressed with her husband's thirst for vengeance, but seeing as Ron had stabbed her daughter and put her son in a state of depression for a year she was preparing for the very same duel. Albus, Scorpius and Hugo had a bet going as to who would get to Ron first when the fighting inevitably broke out. Albus would prefer a peaceful takeover but knowing Ron and Harry, they would no doubt put up a fight.

"Have you been spying on them again?" asked Hermione amused, looking up from her novel and raising her eyebrow at her husband.

"I was merely inspecting our telescope and they happened to catch my eye," he protested, finally raising his hands in surrender when she didn't drop her amused expression. "Fine, I was wondering why he's been so on edge these past few days and then I saw him slip the ring box in his pocket when I passed their room," he admitted.

"So you decided to spy on him proposing?" asked Hermione, barely managing to suppress her laughter.

"I was bored," he said, looking distinctly ruffled now that she stopped trying to reign in her laughter and was nearly in hysterics. Shaking his head at her, muttering, "women!" under his breath, he reached out to look back at the telescope.

"Don't!" gasped Hermione, choking slightly as she tried to talk while laughing.

"Why not!" he said indignantly, "I want to see what happens next."

"Draco," she said in as serious a voice as she could muster, "Do you remember what we did after you proposed?" Draco flushed red and relinquished his grasp on the telescope in horror, suddenly not very interested in seeing what his daughter and future son-in-law were doing. Contrary to all evidence, he sternly maintained that Cassiopeia and Rose were still virgins.

"Mothers rose bushes," he suddenly gasped, causing Hermione to erupt into a fresh fit of laughter, "Oh she must be rolling in her grave."

"It's your father you should be worried about," giggled Hermione, before proceeding to take on an incredibly aristocratic and haughty tone:

"Draco Malfoy, married to a mudblood," Draco frowned when she called herself that, but she just shrugged it off, "Four children, two of whom are half-bloods that were born out of wedlock and raised as Weasley's for half their lives. His pureblood granddaughter now engaged to a Potter, who lives in the Manor as well. His pureblood grandson fathering a child out of wedlock by the sister of the aforementioned Potter . . . oh the scandal, a travesty I tell you."

Draco laughed in agreement, shaking his head fondly as he contemplated his wife.

He had made many mistakes in his life, but perhaps his greatest one to date was not marrying her in the first place. Instead, they had let pure-blood tradition and The Ministry dictate their lives, and while he had come to love and respect Astoria for giving him his two children; he often wondered how things would have turned out if Hermione and he had got together sooner, and she had mothered all four of his children.

It didn't matter now though, what mattered is that they were together now.

(*)(*)(*)

"Hard day?" asked Francesca sympathetically as Hugo arrived at the muggle cafeteria they both met at every Thursday afternoon. Her hours as a trainee healer were long and gruelling, Thursdays were her only day off so it was the only time she could see Hugo, who she had become quite close to as she helped him through his grief for Claire.

"Yup," Hugo popped the P, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a hoody, a far cry from the usual formal suit he wore to work. He was following his mother's footsteps into magical law, but found the robes stifling and uncomfortable so opted for using muggle three piece suits, something she thought he looked quite fetching in.

"What happened?" she asked, as a waitress deposited their usual order on the table. They had been coming here so long the woman no longer needed to ask their orders, she knew it by heart: One black coffee, no sugar no foam for Francesca; one large cream-soda for Hugo; a serving of three-cheese lasagne for both.

"Harry has me working the archives again," he sighed, the one thing he hated about his career was that, though he worked as a legal representative for the Department of Magical Sports and Games, Harry had full control over all ministry employees working in law.

"Victoire had me on call for three days straight," sighed Francesca, "I swear, we thought that when she became head of the hospital we would have it easier."

"At least Vic is fair," pointed out Hugo, "She doesn't care that you're a Slytherin." The previous head of the hospital was a very bigoted individual who thought the Slytherin healers more likely to poison the patients than heal them and had treated them very poorly.

"Still," she groaned, "I'm running on less than four hours sleep here."

"Then why'd you come?" he asked her curiously, "It's your one day off, you should have spent it catching up on sleep."

"We always meet on Thursdays," she reminded him pointedly, "How could I break tradition?"

"Easily," added Hugo wryly, wondering why her cheeks were tinged pink, "You need to rest Fran, I don't see why you go out of your way just to see me."

"Oh Merlin," Francesca rolled her eyes. Really, could you get anymore oblivious than that. She plucked up her non-existent Slytherin courage and took a deep breath before leaning across the table and pressing her lips softly against his. "That's why you moron!" she said, pulling away after a few seconds.

"Oh," he said, his own pale cheeks flushed pink as well now, before grinning and leaning in for another.

(*)(*)(*)

James groaned as his partner, Olivia Weasley (his cousin-in-law through her marriage to Fred), dropped another load of paperwork on his desk. He had been buried in administration for the past week and it was beginning to get on his nerves – this was the Head Aurors job – not his. He was a fully qualified field auror, he was not supposed to be dealing with their budgets and memorandums. Then again, the Head Auror was a convicted murderer whom he had long since lost all respect for; he tried to avoid his Uncle Ron as much as possible. But this was ridiculous! Just because he was related to the man did not mean he could push his duties on him.

"Trust me, I know the feeling," grumbled Olivia, "He had me overseeing the dealings with the German Aurors last week despite it being his bloody job!" She scowled as she went back to her own desk and began leafing through her own stack of paperwork.

"Does he seriously expect me to review the entire Azkaban budget?" asked James incredulously as he skimmed through the topmost folder Olivia had left on his desk.

"It appears so," said Joshua, James' former dorm-mate and long time friend as he pushed open the door. Josh had completed his healer training at St. Mungo's before applying to the Auror department as a field-healer. He also stood to become another member of James' extended family due to his relationship with Louis Weasley – they had been dating on and off since Josh's fifth year. He made up the third member of their team of four, the fourth being a reclusive curse breaker who went by the name of Griff.

"He has me working the budgets for our ward at St. Mungo's," added Josh as he settled down at his desk and pulled on his glasses, rolling his eyes at their boss's ineptitude. James was appalled, the funding for their ward was already woefully short and any further decrease would probably cause the hospital to tear up their contract with the Auror office. What was his uncle thinking?

"This is ridiculous, I'm going to have a word with him," declared James as he got to his feet angrily, stomping his way out of the office.

He noticed that his squad wasn't the only one being buried alive in paperwork; every office he passed had the aurors scribbling away rather than on active duty. It had been that way for nearly six months now, the younger aurors were benched and the older ones, whom his uncle favoured because they had fought in the war with him but who like him had gone to seed, got all the credit for the youngsters grunt work. He had honestly had enough.

He didn't bother knocking as he barged into Ron's office, squaring his shoulders and marching towards the older man, before forcefully slamming the pile of paperwork down on his desk. He noted with disgust that his uncle reeked of alcohol.

"This is your responsibility," he barked, "I am not an intern, nor am I the boss!"

"I delegated these assignments to you," said Ron as he attempted at a haughty sneer, which gave him the look of a constipated dragon, "I am much too busy."

"Doing what?" scowled James, "You haven't done anything except sign the papers the rest of us have been sorting out for the past six months!"

"James, you may be my nephew but this borders on insubordination," Ron said in a superior tone, "I am the Head Auror and I decide who does what around here!"

"Get your act together then! I am bloody sick of you running this division into the ground, at least when my father was in charge things actually got done!" yelled James, "And do your own paperwork because I sure as hell am not going to be doing it anymore!" He turned on his heel and left, not bothering to wait for his uncle's response when suddenly, just as reached the first set of doors in the corridor. . .

"THEN YOU'RE FIRED!" bellowed Ron, lurching out of his office. James noticed his fellow aurors leave their offices at the noise at stare at the scene.

"No problem!" called back James brazenly, even though it stung that he had just lost his job. It didn't matter in the long run though, he was a fully trained auror, he had relatively good results in his NEWTs and his surname was Potter. There were dozens of jobs open to him and frankly under his uncles leadership being an auror wasn't all it had cracked up to be.

"Wait . . . you're firing him?" asked Olivia incredulously, "For reminding you to do your job?" Her face hardened, "I'd like to hand in my resignation sir." James turned to look at her through widened eyes, "Don't be a hero Liv," he muttered under his breath.

"Don't worry about it," she grinned, "Fred and his dad have been pestering me to take a job at Weasley Wizard Wheezes since I married him."

"Head Healer Lupin did say that anytime I wanted to get my old job at St. Mungo's back, all I had to do was ask," chimed in Joshua suddenly, "I'll be resigning as well Ronnie." He winked at the portly man who spluttered in rage as one by one, at least fifty of the other auror's came to stand beside James, offering over their resignations. Those that remained, mainly the senior aurors and a few of the less courageous ones stepped back – though a few looked willing to join them in protest as well. James was overwhelmed by this show of solidarity.

"Too my uncle ladies and gentlemen," smirked James, an expression eerie reminiscent of his younger brother playing on his face, "The man who single-handedly crippled the auror department!" before turning on his heel and stalking away, closely followed by those who had chosen to leave.

Auror Griff smirked as he stood beside the few who had opted to remain with the department, his mark tingling slightly beneath its concealing charm, smugly wondering how best to break the news to Albus that the ministry had just lost its main fighting core.

(*)(*)(*)

"I'm in Egypt next month," called Rose from the bathroom, kneading her strawberry shampoo through her blonde hair. As a curse breaker for Gringotts she usually found herself being offered jobs internationally for the bank, often to exotic locales to break ancient wards and curses to recover long lost treasure. Even though she didn't take all of them because she preferred staying close to home, some jobs came with such a high reward that she couldn't bring herself to turn them down. The current assignment, involving a centuries old tomb in the Valley of the Kings, promised her one tenth of the value of whatever she recovered, to be paid directly into her account. Such payment often came fraught with risk because if she didn't succeed she would end up coming home with nothing.

Rose was however very good at her job and accumulated a sizable fortune at Gringotts, nowhere near her mother or father's fortunes but it was still quite a formidable sum. As such she found herself abroad at least once every two to three months.

"Mexico," called Delphin from their room, like Xavier and Kat they had recently purchased an apartment for themselves. It wasn't as large as their friends, but this was due to both of them being out of the country on a regular basis. "Luna's convinced that she may finally find a Thunderbird," he rolled his eyes. He found himself on foreign soil on a more frequent basis than his girlfriend, especially with his boss's fixation on creatures he quite frankly didn't believe existed. However, after Luna had scientifically proved the existence of treants – sentient trees – he always gave her theories a certain level of credence. Even if the hunt for the Loch Ness Monster last year had been a complete waste of their time, involving a lot of mucking about the Scottish lochs and living in tents – Luna had eventually called of the expedition when her husband demanded she return home.

Rose sighed as she stepped into the room, clad in just her silky bathrobe, her hair still wet, "We hardly ever have time for just the two of us these days."

"I know love," he said, sitting on the bed, "But my apprenticeship ends in six months and then I'll probably be basing myself here permanently. I love my job but Merlin, I can do without the travelling." It was true; he was considering working at the local magical creature sanctuary once his apprenticeship with Luna ended. As much as enjoyed working with magical creatures, there was only so much he could stomach when it came to living in the wilderness.

"I just have a year at Gringotts till my contract expires," she said with a wry smile, goblin-made contracts were binding and it was worth your life to try and break one. "I don't think I want to renew it though, I'm thinking of joining the Guild." The guild was a division of her father's company that was devoted to investigating and unlocking the ancient magical sites of Wizarding Britain, composed mainly of Curse-Breakers. The timing of her expiring contract with the bank coincided nicely with the beginning of their new project, a full blown attempt into breaking the wards surrounding Stonehenge so that they could gain entry to the fabled catacombs below.

"And it's not like we're going to get married or anything," she continued slightly bitterly, "I have no illusions that you're going to settle for a barren witch."

His jaw dropped in shock as he rose from the bed and came up beside her and enveloped her in a tight hug, "I'm not _settling_ for you Rose," he said honestly, "I'm with you because I love you."

"I can't give you children or a family Delphin," she said, the bitterness now thick in her voice, "Why would you want a damaged witch like me."

"Never call yourself that again," he said sternly, though his voice was heavy with emotion as he held her, "I love you Rose, it doesn't matter to me if we can't have children. We have each other, that's all that matters."

He slid his hand into her robe and caressed her scars, where the knife had buried itself into her womb three times over. "These scars just show you're brave, they show that you've overcome something no one should have to. I love you Rose, imperfections, flaws and all."

"I love you too Del," she said softly, clinging on to him for dear life and sobbing softly into his shoulder. She had needed to hear those words from his lips, she just hadn't realised how much till now.


	15. Chapter 14

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Wish Upon A Star**

"You brewed the poison that killed Molly Weasley?" asked Hermione incredulously as she contemplated her future son-in-law. The Manor was for the most part empty save for herself, Albus and Delphin – who had come to visit seeing as Rose was spending the day dress shopping with Cassiopeia and Katherine. The boys had screwed up their noses at the notion of accompanying them and furthermore, Hermione had been adamant about not breaking the tradition of the groom not laying eyes on the wedding dress till his bride walked down the aisle. Draco, sensing that the Manor was soon to become a hub of frenzied wedding planning – neither Albus nor Cass cared for a long engagement – had scheduled a business trip to Italy. Now though, Hermione was fixing the two adolescent males with a disapproving glare.

"Yes," admitted Albus, taking a seat on the dark leather armchair and raising an eyebrow at the brunette. Delphin seemed uncertain of what course of action to take and after a moment's hesitation, perched himself on the armrest of his friend's seat.

"What happened to wanting a bloodless victory?" she asked, shaken by the matter-of-fact tone of voice he was using.

"The incident had nothing to do with the Outcast movement," explained Albus with a shrug, "I brewed the poison at the Sophia William's request in exchange for eighteen thousand galleons. The business was barely staying afloat so I engaged in several such endeavours to keep the creditors at bay. I didn't know she was going to go after Molly, I assumed she would do the world a favour and get rid of Ron."

"The only reason we're not all in Azkaban right now is because of Albus' quick thinking," added Delphin, "Sophia was an idiot, the poison may have been untraceable but her connection to the Outcasts was not." Hermione's eyes were wide; she had had no idea that such things were what had been funding Malfoy Holdings whilst they waited for Draco to get back on his feet. Furthermore, she couldn't believe that Albus appeared so nonchalant about being the cause of the death of his cousin, however estranged they may have been.

"Do you really hate the Weasleys that much?" she asked as she sank into the plush loveseat that she usually occupied with Draco at her side.

"No," said Albus, "I don't hate them all. I hate my Uncle Ron and I loathe my father. I love my mother and sister, and even though James hurt me more than the rest of them put together I love him because he'll always be my big brother. I love Teddy, Victoire and Remy; even if I haven't seen them since James' wedding because they never turned on me. I am fond of my grandparents and Uncle George. The rest of them . . . I feel absolutely nothing for, I don't hate them nor do I love them, they abandoned me when I needed them the most. I know what you're thinking Aunt Hermione and you're right, I feel indifferent at best about Molly, I regard her as a casualty for the greater good."

Hermione blinked at his response, so methodical and well said, as if rehearsed. Then again, he must have contemplated such a question himself in the past. She had as well and had come to pretty much the same conclusion, the Weasleys were a part of a different chapter of her life but the only one she could truly bring herself to hate was Ron – and that was solely because he had hurt her children – and to a lesser extent Harry. It was a strange thought. Once upon a time it had been the three of them standing against Draco Malfoy and his Slytherins; now it was Draco and herself against them. The difference was striking, she had grown up and seen the world as it was; they remained teenagers, stubborn and frozen forever in their childish personality's schoolboy grudges.

"Albus," she said warningly, "If the Weasley's rally against the Outcast cause then we will all be in grave danger, there is no family alive that holds as much standing with the Ministry as they do." She frowned as Delphin and Albus exchanged an amused look.

"The Ministry is a lion without claws," chuckled Delphin, "They have less than forty aurors left."

"What?" gaped Hermione, just the month before Rose had left for Egypt the Aurors had numbered near a hundred.

"Harry and Ron are keeping it quiet to try and restore their numbers before Kingsley finds out," smirked Albus, "Our contact at the Auror office tells us that there was a mass resignation in protest against Ron. Our people are already infiltrating the other departments and spreading our ideology, by the time I return from my honeymoon the Ministry will be in our pockets."

(*)(*)(*)

"They're not here Aunt Tori," said Kat politely from the doorway as she conversed with an irate Astoria Greengrass, "They're probably at Del's or Hugo's." Hugo had recently purchased a studio apartment claiming he needed independence and that he could not achieve that if he lived with his parents. Draco and Hermione bought the lie and quite graciously offered to pay for his new accommodation, an offer that Hugo was pleased to accept. Albus and Scorpius however knew that he just wanted to have a place of his own where he could shag Francesca Montague without having to bring her home to the Manor and risk an awkward introduction with his mother.

"Those two," sighed Astoria, "One would think they don't want to get married the way they avoid our planning sessions. Honestly, is it so much for them to just let us help plan their special day. Well I should be going then, hopefully I'll find them at one of the boy's apartments."

"Would you like to stay for tea Aunt Toria?" asked Kat with a wicked grin on her face.

"I'd love to dearie but I'm meeting the other ladies for lunch at the Manor," she smiled at her niece, not seeming to notice the evil look on the girls face as she took her leave. As soon as Kat shut the door however, she was confronted by both Cass and Albus, both looking extremely irked.

"What are you playing at," hissed Cass, "Inviting her for tea."

"I'm only being polite," smirked Kat, a sweet look in her eyes, "Aunt Tori and I are very close."

"Kat," scowled Albus, "Did the concept that we are hiding from our mothers not cross your mind."

"It did," she grinned before walking to the living room and plopping down on the couch. The pair followed her, settling down on the loveseat with Cass basically on Albus' lap. The tomboyish girl rolled her eyes at them, since Al had proposed the couple had been sickeningly in love. The tabloids were in love with them though, much to their own chagrin. When they had been dress shopping, going to a bridal store with a Malfoy was a very entertaining experience as the boutique owners were prone to fawning over Cass in their need to please her . . . and by extension, her father's prodigious bank balance.

"You two know that you can't hide from them forever," she pointed out when they remained silent, seemingly content to glare at her. When Albus and Cassiopeia had formally announced their engagement to their families (In Al's case he just told his mother) they had created an unholy alliance –as they called it – between Ginny Weasley, Astoria Greengrass and Hermione Malfoy, all three of whom had flung themselves into the wedding planning. The couple had taken to hiding from the mothers in an attempt to retain their own sanity; Albus claimed that if he was asked one more question regarding the colour of their table napkins he would jump of the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower and Cass was absolutely sick of being questioned about _her choices_ with regards to _her wedding_.

"The wedding is in a month," said Albus, "I think we can manage living on the run till then." Kat laughed before noticing that Cassiopeia had a very serious look on her face.

"Wait you aren't serious?" asked Kat incredulously.

"We are," said Cass, "We've already given the list of everything we want; it's all the minor details that they're harping on."

The floo burst into emerald flames as Xavier arrived, looking tired yet maintaining a wry smile as he walked into the room and dusted the soot of his robes.

"Ms. Weasleys been calling your office for you all afternoon Albus," he said with a cheery grin as he pecked Kat on the cheek and took a seat on the arm of her chair, "She sounds pissed. Something about the catering menu for the wedding."

"See," groaned Albus, "This is what we're talking about!"

(*)(*)(*)

"We need to gather the Order," said Harry as he sat across the desk from his former head of house, Minerva Mcgonagall. The years had been kind to the elderly woman and although her hair was now completely grey and wrinkles covered her face, she still maintained the elegance and sternness that she had held herself with during his own schooling days.

"Why?" asked Minerva, not deigning to look up from her papers, the new school year was fast approaching she often found it necessary to familiarize herself with the new students before they began school. She was bitterly disappointed in her former students who she maintained had behaved in a despicable manner over the years and it was with a heavy heart that she recalled the cheery smiles from their youth. The war had hardened them and few of them seemed to have adapted to the new world, most content to let the stereotypes and prejudice of the past rule their lives.

"The Outcasts are gaining power," said Harry as if it were the simplest thing in the world and as though she should know that by now, "How long before we have another war on our hands?"

"They so far seem to bear our world no ill," pointed out Minerva, "I quite agree with a number of their goals myself. And there is no evidence that they have been causing trouble as you and Mr. Weasley have been." Her voice had become sharper as she spoke, like many members of the wizarding community she had been appalled by Ron's actions and heartily believed he should be in Azkaban.

"Causing trouble?" spluttered Harry in indignation, "We have been protecting our world."

"No," she said firmly, "You have been poisoning it with hate. I know all my students Mr. Potter, including yours sons. Do not think me blind that I have not noticed the way you alienated him from the moment he set foot into this school."

"He is a Slytherin Minerva," said Harry, stung by her remarks, "You know what they're like."

"They are all outstanding citizens if that is what you are implying," she brooked no arguments in that case, "True, there have been cases of violence from a few of their members but the same can be said of any house."

"Albus is leading a group of neo-death eaters and you think they are upstanding members of society?" asked Harry, aghast.

"I know that boy since he was born Mr. Potter," said Minerva in a clipped voice, "I held him when he was no more than a day old. I watched him grow up and he has never displayed the slightest hint of malice or hate until his family turned on him. Like all tyrants, you create your own worst enemies; be thankful that your son wants to achieve change peacefully."

"I am not a tyrant," yelled Harry, finally causing her to look up from her papers, "Voldemort was a tyrant and I killed him."

"You are fast becoming as bad as he was," said the portrait of Severus Snape and both individuals turned to face the greasy haired man. He sneered at Harry, distaste evident on his face.

"Your father was an arrogant bastard and your godfather was his right-hand, I loathe you for being as insipid as they were," continued Snape in a drawling tone that dripped disgust, "But never have I thought I would see the day when Lily Evans would be ashamed to call you her son."

Harry rose; his face dark with rage as he stormed from the office, slamming the door behind him. Snape's comment had cut him to the bone.

"That was cruel Severus," chided Minerva reproachfully.

"It was a truth he needed to hear," said Albus Dumbledore, who at up till that point remained silent in his own portrait.

(*)(*)(*)

Cassiopeia forced a smile to her lips as she walked into the Drawing Room of Malfoy Manor, fighting the urge to cringe at the exuberant round of applause that greeted her. Several women were scattered about the large room, which had been elegantly decorated for the event – one she had begged Rose to do away with. But her pleas had fallen on deaf ears and now she was made to face the horror of her bridal shower, she was very nervous, knowing full well what horrors Kat and Rose could come up with when they put their minds to the task.

It didn't help her in the slightest that she had been feeling ill for the past few days, something she put down to pre-wedding jitters considering her special day was less than two weeks away. It startled her, she had never expected to feel nauseas during the prelude to her wedding but she knew that it was probably just her nerves; there was no way that marrying Albus would ever be a mistake.

Still, she could do without heaving the contents of her stomach into the toilet every morning.

Her maid-of-honour and half-sister Rose Granger grinned at her beside a pile of presents, most of which were wrapped in gaudy shades of pink, a colour choice that made her cringe. True, she wasn't as much of a punk as Kat was but that didn't mean she was as girly as Elena Flint either. Truth be told, she had a very practical person as Albus could testify to, having seen her in ball gowns as often as he had seen her wearing a pair of jeans and one of his t-shirts. Kat sat by her side, an evil grin on her face that sent shivers down the blonde girl's spine. She knew that look; it was the expression Kat wore whenever she had thought up something especially wicked.

Surveying the room quickly as she made her way to the dainty throne like chair that seemed to have been prepared for her –_oh the horror – _she took in the faces of those attending. She exchanged a quick smile with Francesca, who although hadn't been the best of friends with her during school, she was fond of solely because the girl had broken Hugo out of his depression concerning Claire. Elena and Isabella were present and helping themselves to the wine, which she thanked her mother for providing, she had a feeling she would need it to get through the rest of the day. Her mother was present as was Hermione; whilst her future mother and sister-in-law had both politely declined their invitations. Ginny was abroad conducting interviews with the French National Team for the Daily Prophet concerning her job as the winner of the World Cup. Alison had been hesitant to attend because of the estrangement between the brothers and though she and Cass would soon be family, she didn't want to face her because of the way she had tormented the younger girl in school. Nevertheless she had mellowed slightly after marrying James and was less antagonistic towards Slytherin House so had sent a present. Then of course there were a few of her friends from work, her cousins – all of whom were rather young, the eldest still in her fourth year at Hogwarts – and a few of her aunts. _Charming . . ._ she thought to herself.

A few hours of mind-numbingly embarrassing bridal games and boring conversations later lunch was served. No sooner had Cassiopeia taken a whiff of the garlic crusted hake fillets that their house-elves had prepared was she running for the nearest bathroom to puke. Coughing roughly as she finished making her offerings to the porcelain gods, she felt somebody pull her thankfully still-clean hair out of her face. Turning slightly, she realised that her mother had followed her.

"Are you ok?" asked Astoria, concern evident in her voice.

"I'm fine," said Cass, grabbing a bottle of mouthwash from the medicine cabinet to freshen her breath. Her stomach heaved slightly but she had nothing left to throw up.

"I'm just nervous about the wedding," she admitted when her mother continued staring at her, midnight blue eyes rife with that calculating curiosity that made Astoria such a gifted member of the Wizengamot. She was the only Slytherin to sit upon the panel, an achievement in itself. Thankfully, Astoria didn't press the matter, soon escorting her daughter back to the party.

After dealing with numerous concerned guests Rose seemed to realise her discomfort and came to her aid announcing it was present time. The first box pressed into her hand was from Rose herself and judging by the smirk on her half-sisters face it wasn't a new outfit. Nervously undoing the wrapping she blushed furiously, it was a new outfit after all.

Just not one she would be comfortable wearing in public. _Is that a whip_? Cass blanched in horror.

"Rose," she spluttered, thrown by the candidness of the gift, "This . . . this is . . . lovely." She thought it a nice choice of wording, hoping she didn't give any offence. Whilst she and Albus had a very active sex life, such _toys _and _outfits_ weren't really their style.

"I thought so," said the blonde girl with a smirk as Kat sniggered appreciatively in the background. Cass hurriedly closed the box and pushed it under her chair before any of the older women could get a chance to see what it was.

"This ones from me," grinned Kat as she handed over another box, this one wrapped in jet black paper covered in silver stars, "You and Al can thank me tonight."

Staring at the small mountain of presents still waiting to be opened, Cass only had one thought . . .

_Where is that wine?_

(*)(*)(*)

"A bachelor party?" repeated Albus incredulously as he took in his extremely excited group of friends who had been sitting in the living room, waiting for him to finish shower.

"As your best friends we are duty bound to throw you one," pointed out Scorpius dramatically, he had been a wreck in the months following Lily's departure till a random day six months later when he had received an owl. He had disappeared into his room with the letter and hadn't left it for three days. Finally, when Draco had threatened to blast his door down Scorpius had returned, the old vibrant boy who used to drag his friends to the school kitchens at least once a week. Nobody but Scor knew what was in that letter but Albus sometimes walked in on his friend staring down at a well-worn photograph – something the blonde stowed away whenever people came in. Albus had let it go, it didn't take a genius to know that the strange picture was probably a photograph of his nephew; the son of Lily and Scorpius.

"I was actually planning on staying in tonight," he shifted awkwardly.

"Doing what?" demanded Delphin, "What could be more fun than spending quality bachelor time with your best mates before you get tied down?"

"Uhm well you see Cass wanted to try on some of the outfits she got for her bridal shower," he ran a hand through his hair nervously, well aware that two of the young men sitting in front of him where his bride's brothers.

"No objections," said Hugo firmly, "Go and get dressed."

Defeated, Albus turned and walked back upstairs to his room, cursing his friends under his breath as he pushed open the door to find Cassiopeia in all her lacy finery. He growled, half in lust and half in disappointment.

"Put some clothes on," he snapped, his irritation at his best friends getting the better of him – really they were making him miss _this_; he was nearly in tears, "Your brothers are downstairs."

(*)(*)(*)

Twilight fell, colouring the sky is opalescent hues of indigo and rose, the sun a burning halo on the horizon, slowly sinking as the first stars made their appearance in the sky. The air was cool and tranquil, the rose garden lit with soft silvery lights that kept the growing darkness at bay, carrying the soft murmurs of wedding guests as they awaited the arrival of the bride.

Ginny dabbed at her eyes as she watched the scene, her youngest son standing nervously at the altar. Scorpius Malfoy stood at his side, his best man had a bright smile on his face and she couldn't help but think of how her grandchild may look. Thoughts of Lily were never far from her mind, but she reasoned that if the child is anything like the man standing before her, who had supported her son through everything, then he would grow into a fine young gentleman. On the same note, Lily was his mother and Potter/Weasley women did not tolerate nonsense of any sort from their children.

Yes, her grandchild would grow into a fine young man. She only wished that he and his mother could still be here. She had entertained hopes that Lily would return for her brother's wedding, hopes that were it seemed in futile.

Three groomsmen stood beside her son and Scorpius; Delphin Zabini, Xavier Avery and Hugo Malfoy. The years may have passed since the glamours had been lifted off of him but Ginny could never accustom herself to seeing him blonde and pale rather than red-haired and freckly as he had been for the first ten or so years of his life. Nevertheless, seeing what her brother and husband had turned into she couldn't fault Hermione for having found love elsewhere – it was something she was again considering. She was in her forties, still young by wizard standards and she was growing lonely now that she was all alone. True, Albus still visited her for tea once a week whilst James and Alison (she had since warmed to the younger witch) came to call on her regularly but it wasn't the same, especially since she had no idea as to Lily's whereabouts and had no significant other in her life.

Her sole companionship these days was Hermione, whom although she would never be able to be quite as close with as she had been prior to their divorces, was becoming a good friend. She had been surprised that her former best friend supported the Outcast movement and stunned speechless when she had caught a glimpse of the older woman's mark. Then again though, she herself agreed with a great many of the groups views and even if she refused to fully support the cause that did not mean she did not think her son had raised valid arguments as to the way the Ministry currently operated.

She also had struck up an unlikely friendship with Astoria Greengrass, who encouraged her to return to the dating scene and was actually quite pleasant company. Rita Skeeter had gone quite mad with excitement when she photographed the two of them together at the Leaky Cauldron after having met for lunch.

Finding out that Albus led the Outcast's had been an eye-opener, she had always assumed it to be Scorpius Malfoy with her son as a high-ranking member. She herself had been flabbergasted when Albus had given his first press statement concerning the group – other than identifying himself as their leader (To Harry's fury) he had also disavowed any knowledge of the Williams scandal (Which had let Ginny release the breath she hadn't been aware she had been holding) and outlined the goals of their movement. To the anger of the more bigoted members of society, her ex-husband and brother chief amongst them, a great many people had been swayed by Al's message and Outcast support was higher than it had ever been.

The flow of soft conversation seemed to dim as people turned their heads to the entrance of the rose gardens, Ginny pausing only to take in the soppy, awe-struck look of her son's face as he stared at his bride. She felt a pang go through her heart; Harry had looked at her the exact same way on their wedding day – where did they go wrong?

If Ginny had been awed upon catching sight of the venue, the elegant grove of silver and emerald leaves, tinged through with roses of black velvet and white silk, all glowing with an ethereal glow in the soft magical lighting and glimmering starlight, then she was positively breathless when her eyes fell on the bride.

She could only imagine how her son must be feeling . . . for Cassiopeia Malfoy was so beautiful it hurt to look upon her.

Her platinum hair cascaded in soft waves down to the small of her black, adorned with only a single tiara, white gold and set with emeralds – the Malfoy bridal jewels, worn by every Malfoy bride since the Renaissance Era in France, from which they had originated. A delicate necklace hung upon her throat, the chain shaped like a twisting string of tiny roses, each petal hand wrought, each emerald individually set by goblin hands. Her earrings and bracelet completed the set, each piece more expensive than the cost of the entire wedding.

The stars themselves seemed to have fallen and their light woven into her pure white dress, luxurious and flowing, tight at the bodice, tapered at the waist and falling in crescendos of silk at the skirts. It was sleeveless, bold in its simplicity yet so exquisite and regal a piece that it tore away every bride's illusion that they had had worn the perfect wedding dress.

Draco walked beside her, looking every bit the proud father he was meant to be and Ginny was sure that his eyes seemed to gleam wetly. Once again she looked at the injustice of it all, that Lily would never have her own father willingly walk her down the aisle to marry the man that she loved. To nobody's surprise, Harry had shunned the wedding. To everybody's shock, so had James.

Things were worse than ever between the brothers these days, James seemed unconvinced that Albus hadn't had a hand (or at the very least a finger) in Molly's murder – Ginny blamed Harry's very public insistence that the Outcasts were to blame to poison the boys already worn relationship. He also bought in wholesale to the propaganda that had been circling against the Outcasts and firmly believed that Al had become mixed up in the wrong crowd. Ginny herself had heard the propaganda and didn't place much stock in them, Albus may have changed but she highly doubted her son would engage in illegal muggle hunting. When Albus had stepped forward and announced himself as the Outcast Leader, Ginny knew it had broken James' heart even if he didn't believe that Al engaged in the deplorable activities he had been accused of, he still thought that Albus was leading people who did. Albus for his part had long ago deemed that he didn't need his family, so he hadn't let it show that it hurt that his brother thought so little of him. But Ginny would like to think that she knew her sons and she could see it in the depths of Albus' eyes that it hurt him more badly than anything that James had shunned his wedding.

Her full attention was diverted back to the altar as they couple began to exchange their vows.

"Cassiopeia, you are the only woman I have ever loved and will ever love. You've been my shoulder to lean on, my rock in a storm, the one person who was always there for me to keep the darkness at bay. I remember one time, back when I used to still wake up screaming from a nightmare because my family had abandoned me how you used to be there, not judging or complaining but just being there for me and soothing me back to sleep." Ginny felt tears come to her eyes, she had never known that. She noticed that George and Angelina, the only other Weasleys save for Victoire (who was now a Lupin) that had shown for the wedding, were looking ashamed of themselves – even though they had been the most accepting of their nephew. Her eyes fell on her grandson Remy, looking quite sharp in a muggle suit as he sat beside his parents Teddy and Victoire, his neon green hair attracting a lot of curious looks. He was only nine and didn't yet have much control over his metamorphmagus abilities because of his diluted bloodline.

"I remember when I first met you, I remember the first night I kissed you, the first night we had together, the day I proposed and you said yes. I remember all of these things so clearly because they're my brightest memories. I vow to love you till the end of time, to be your support in times of need, to cherish and protect you every day of my life. I vow that you Cassiopeia will be my last love . . . just as you were my first."

"Albus, you were my first everything and I can promise that you will also be my last of all those things. I love you for your heart, for your strength and determination. I love you for you, now and forever, because you have my heart and you've kept it safe all these years. I vow to cherish and be faithful, to nurture and protect, to care for from this day to my last day. But Albus, I will love another man as much as I love you," there was a shocked outcry from the crowd, Albus looked as if he had been clubbed over the head but she spoke on, taking his hand and laying it across her stomach.

"And that man will call you daddy."

(*)(*)(*)

Ginny helped herself to one of the champagne glasses as she milled about the reception, exchanging polite words with many of the guests, the fire of her joy never leaving her as she watched her son and his new wife, both sporting such brilliant smiles that their happiness seemed to tangibly fill the air around them.

She had never seen Albus look so happy, not since he had been eleven.

She frowned slightly as she watched him start as happiness filled the depths of his green eyes, the eyes of his father whom she had once fallen in love with, of his maternal grandmother who had died to protect her son. Turning to look at what he was staring at, her own smile widened into a Cheshire grin of pure bliss.

Near a tall apple tree, in the distance but still close enough to have witnessed the ceremony and to be easily distinguishable – even in the darkness of the night – stood James, a smile on his face. Seeing his brother catch his eye, he winked and raised two fingers to his brow, an obvious salute. Albus exchanged a quick word with Cassiopeia before breaking away from her and silently apparated to his side.

Ginny watched as her sons embraced, for the moment the barriers between them forgotten.

Harry would like to pretend that James' first words about having a brother had been something along the lines of, "I don't want a brother," or "Will you still have time for me?"

That was never the case, it had been Ginny who broke the news to James when she had been six months pregnant with Albus and James in his two-year-old innocence had told her she was getting fat.

His first words after coming to understand he was getting a baby brother had been:

"Will he be my friend?"


	16. Chapter 15

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**The Darkness Within**

"A baby huh?" smiled Albus as he lay beside Cassiopeia, one arm loped around her body to hold her close. It was the last day of their honeymoon, the last day before they had to return to Britain and their lives, away from the peaceful serenity of Capri. They had spent three weeks on the Italian Island, blissfully lost in each other and forgetting the world around them, spending their days lazing around the beautiful beaches, the _Faraglioni_ – those ethereal limestone crags which rose from the cresting sea, swimming in the Blue Grotto and exploring the ancient ruins of Roman Villa's. Albus had succeeded in achieving a light tan, Cass on the other hand had not been able to without burning her pale skin so had been forced to douse herself in magical sunscreen for their entire vacation. Still it did nothing to quell their enjoyment of the scenic paradise.

Their favorite place on the entire island was The Blue Grotto, the beautiful sea cave on the coast in which sunlight shone into the underwater cavity and through the seawater to create a brilliant blue reflection to illuminate the entire cavern. They spent days travelling there, simply basking in the unearthly realm, making love in the softly flowing waters.

At their last visit Albus had used his magic to ensure they would always have a piece of Capri to cherish other than their memories and the tourist memorabilia they had purchased. He had enchanted a single droplet of the water to settle within the emerald of Cassiopeia's wedding ring, so that the ring would always shine with that same oceanic light they had come to love.

"A baby," she agreed, smiling as she nestled against him in the silky sheets of their bed. She was three months pregnant now; too early to tell that the gender but she had a feeling it would be a boy. Apart from what she called mothers intuition, she knew that both Potter and Malfoy firstborns were always boys. She also profoundly hoped it would be a boy after her rather public pronouncement during their wedding vows. She giggled at the memory; Al had looked so stunned.

"You really scared me at the wedding when you said you loved another man," he said, as if guessing her thoughts, "But I agree now, is it wrong to say I may already love our kid as much as I love you?"

"It's not wrong," she replied, "It just tells me you're going to be a great dad."

"I hope so," he said seriously, his eyes slightly downcast as he turned away from her.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly, lifting her head of the pillows so that it rested on the side of his own, her chest flush against his bare back.

"What if I'm like my dad," he said quietly, "What if I end up like him . . . I don't want that Cassie, I don't want to be like him but what if it's in my blood?"

"Hey," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek, "You're a better man than your father ever could be. You're going to be the best dad in the world because your blood doesn't define you. Your heart does . . . and Albus your heart is pure," she left the part about his bound Shadows unsaid.

"Thanks Cass," he murmured, shifting around again so that they were face to face, "So what are we going to call him? I quite like Albus Junior."

"You would, wouldn't you," she snorted, a highly unladylike sound, "No we are certainly not calling my son Albus junior."

"Your son?" asked Albus with raised eyebrows, "He's mine as well."

"When his father wants to name him Albus junior then he becomes my son," said Cassiopeia in a firm voice, the effect slightly diminished by the flush colouring her cheeks as his fingers twirled across her skin beneath the sheets.

"Then what do you propose?"

"I'd like to name him for a star," she admitted, "It's a family tradition but I need to check the books when I get home to refresh my memory about the constellations, I never was any good at astronomy." She quirked an eyebrow when she saw a thoughtful look appear in her husband's eyes.

"How about Leo?" asked Albus a few minutes of silence.

"Do you want our son to be a Gryffindork?" she asked playfully, "I like it though. Leo Albus Potter."

"I thought you didn't want to name him after me?" he teased, "I like it," he added after a while, laying a protective hand on her stomach which no showed of the tiniest of bulges.

"How about," she kissed him on the cheek, "We practice giving him," she kissed him on the nose, "A sibling," she finished with a third kiss on his lips.

(*)(*)(*)

_James_

_Leave the country for a few weeks. I don't want you caught in the middle._

_-Al_

James stared blankly at the carefully folded parchment in his hands, his jaw quivering slightly as he read and reread the short statement. He closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Whatever his brother was planning it was big, perhaps some sort of grand coup-de-tat.

He wondered if he should warn his father.

Then he remembered a night long ago, when he had been fourteen years old and going to his room, only to see his father stumble drunkenly into his brother's room and bar the door. He remembered hearing the sharp crack of flesh slapping against flesh, remembered his father's raised voice as if it were only yesterday. He remembered the tears in his brother's eyes, the bruise that was slowly forming on his cheek.

He remembered a scared boy climbing into his big brothers bed after their father had made him bleed for the first time.

Sighing, he tossed the parchment into the fireplace, calling for his wife and announcing that they would be leaving the country immediately on business. As he had taken to the Quidditch field following being sacked from the Auror department, sudden travel plans when having to play abroad where often. Alison was lucky in that she worked from home and could often take extended periods of leave with no repercussions.

Whatever his brother had planned, James had no doubt his father – and the world – deserved it.

He just couldn't stop feeling the ache in his chest that screamed, "I deserve it too!"

(*)(*)(*)

Kat sighed as she got out of bed that morning, the room still dark in the early hours of the morning. She was nervous, terrified of what she had found in Xavier's drawer the previous day. She couldn't help it, that fluttery feeling that clung to her heart and filled her with a lingering sense of dread. She loved him, truly she did, more than she loved anyone. But she was scared.

The ring was simple but beautiful, silver set with a black diamond, dark as night and tempting as the shadows that existed in the absence of light. But she had seen her older brother's marriage implode and she was scared of the same thing happening to her and Xav. What they had was good – it was safe – and Kat, for all her daring and punkish, rebelling nature was terrified of the unknown.

Because that was what marriage entailed, the unknown, and it terrified her that she may end up losing him. Her brother had been truly in love with his girlfriend until they had been married and it all went to hell.

Xavier as he were represented safety, security and comfort. As a husband, she didn't know what would come. True they had been dating since their fifth year, when they both had finally succumbed to the carnal desires that had been festering between them and they had since built an extremely strong relationship. She trusted him with everything, her deepest fears and her most hidden secrets, she trusted him with her heart.

She gazed at the still sleeping man who shared her bed, he looked so innocent and childlike when he slept, his eyes closed, his dark hair falling across the pale grey of their pillows. He shifted in his sleep, his arm reaching for the empty side of the bed, already cold in her absence as he murmured her name, fumbling slightly when he couldn't feel her there.

So she asked herself the question, why had be bought the ring? That little silver band in its red velvet box, hidden away amidst his socks and boxers. She remembered posing the question to Albus after he proposed to Cass, why he had decided to marry her. He had simply shrugged and said, "I can't imagine my life without her, so I want her to be mine in every sense of the word just as I want to be hers."

She had rarely heard her friend speak so frankly from his heart.

Was that how Xav felt about her? She knew it was how she felt about him – but the fear of taking such a risk was there as well, especially after seeing how miserable her big brother, who had always been the strongest man she knew, had become after his divorce. Her eyes fluttered across the starry sky, the pale rays of dawn just beginning to peak across the horizon. The stars brought back memories of Al and Cassie's wedding – how Xavier had defended her at the reception.

"_Hey handsome," said the slag, a blonde witch whom Kat did not know by name, but recognized as a fellow pureblood whose villa lay along the coast. Xavier had raised his eyebrows at her, Kat had clenched her fist and stood possessively close to her boyfriends side, glaring daggers at the witch._

"_He's taken," snapped Kat, not at all liking the witch's flirty manner. The bitc– witch in question seemed to give her a quick once-over, her lip curling into a sneer at the sight of her pixie-cut and thrice pierced ears. _

"_I'm sure he can do much better than you though," she said with a simpering lilt that made Kat want to punch her in the face. She took a step forward, when suddenly she felt his restraining arm on her shoulder as he walked forward towards the witch. She seemed to smile in victory, Kat gave an involuntary twinge of jealousy. _

"_Honey," he said in that dark, cynical voice Kat recognised so well, the tone he used whenever he dealt out a particularly nasty insult, "There's nobody better than my girl, so I suggest you pull up your knickers and go back to your villa. We all know you only live near the sea so that your crabs can feel at home." The witch snarled and turned, her blonde her flipping like a whip as she stormed off and Xavier turned to place an arm around his girlfriend._

"_Nobody messes with my girl," he simply said, before pulling her off to dance._

The memory brought a smile to her lips; he had called her the best girl in the world – he had called her _his girl_ – even though she knew there were so many women out there who were more beautiful, less high maintenance than she was.

"Hey," his voice was heavy with sleep, "What are you doing up so early?"

"Just thinking," she replied, smiling softly as she turned back to him and climbed into bed. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder as he drifted back to dreamland, leaving Kat in his comforting arms. She sighed again, another set of memories drifting to the forefront of her mind.

"_I love you," she said, feeling so very vulnerable as she spoke, their bodies still tangled in the aftermath of their lovemaking. She had been on her own for most of her life, always misunderstood because of her personality. She wasn't a girly girl like her sisters and cousins; but she was still a girl so her brothers didn't play with her either. Her parents had always loved her but they had always been slightly distant, unsure of how to act towards their rebellious daughter. She hadn't had many friends; she had so little in common with the people around her. There had always been that emptiness in her because of it, that need to have affection and friendship – which she had found in the Outcasts, which she had found in Xavier._

_He was quiet for a long while and every second of silence made her regret saying her words a little more. It was true what they said, opening yourself to love also opens you to a world of hurt. Then he spoke, a voice so different from his usual cynic, so warm, a voice he reserved for her alone and the quiet moments they spent together. _

"_I love you too Kat," he had said, and then he held her for the rest of the night whilst she cried – half in relief, half in happiness, but mostly because she had never believed that she could be loved for who she was._

Yes, thought Kat as she snuggled closer to her boyfriend, her eyes drifting closed in the faint light of the oncoming dawn, Change was scary and marriage was a risk.

But Xavier was worth it.

(*)(*)(*)

Harry cursed loudly under his breath as he ran a comb through his hair that morning, his ire quickly returning as he recalled the events of the previous day. It was enough to make him see red and he had hoped that a night with Romilda would have diminished his rage. Unfortunately, whilst Romilda was beautiful and seductive as they came, there was one thing about her that always struck Harry.

She was not Ginny.

He would never forgive his son for causing his wife to divorce him, for in his mind it was Albus' fault that Ginny had left him. His fault for being a Slytherin and needing to be disciplined on a regular basis, his fault for being everything he had once fought against. At first he had thought that he had just lost a son to Slytherin, but overtime Albus had become a cancer to his family. The boy had rotted the relationship between Ginny and himself, had made his relationship with James and Teddy strained at best and had driven Lily to leave the country. How he cursed the day Ginny had labored to bring him into the world.

"You're up early," said Romilda in a sultry voice from the tangled sheets of his bed, the bed he had once shared with Ginny.

"I need to get into the office," he said roughly, unable to keep the anger out of his voice, "We need to get out numbers up, especially now that most of the bleeding Order refuses to take up arms against these fucking Outcasts."

Because that was the source of his bitter rage, that the people he had died for in the past refused to see the terrible danger their world was in. They refused to follow him, save for a few. Of course, they had made their excuses but what good did that do? They were cowards or snake-lovers, the lot of them.

Of the Weasleys his only support came from Ron and Percy. George had said that he would not be fighting against changes that should have happened years ago. Bill had claimed neutrality and Arthur had asked Harry if he truly expected that Molly and himself take up arms against their own grandson. It hadn't helped in the slightest that a vast majority had echoed George's sentiment and that he only could count on perhaps twenty people in all if it came to a fight.

Teddy had slammed the door on his face when he went to his godson's apartment to ask for his support. Ginny, no surprises there, the woman had truly been driven mad by Albus' Slytherin cunning had hit him with a bat-bogey hex.

"Come back to bed Harry," she murmured, "The Aurors will still be waiting for you in an hour." Her arms were covered in deep bruises, left there when he had gripped her too tightly. Her lips were swollen, her neck slightly bloody from where he had bitten too deeply. He was a harsh lover, her boss, but Romilda enjoyed the roughness. She was truly a masochist.

An hour later, maybe three, Harry cursed again because this time he was late for work. Showering quickly he made his way to the kitchen, downing a cup of coffee, so black it was bitter and so hot that it scalded his throat raw before turning to the door to put up the usual security charms. He could dimly hear Romilda in the shower upstairs, the silence save for the rushing water sounded strangely off; Ginny had always hummed in the shower. He cursed himself; he needed to stop fixating on the snake-loving bitch that was his ex-wife. She had chosen her side as he had chosen his.

Just then a patronus darted into the kitchen, a terrier leaping through the open window and fixing him with a playful look. Ron's voice on the other hand was anything but playful, it sounded tense and, dare he say it, scared.

"Harry! The Outcasts are taking the Ministry! And the witch leading them . . . It's Hermione!"

(*)(*)(*)

Kingsley Shacklebolt stared blankly at the pounding on his office door, his wand aimed at the dark wood as he trembled slightly, his nerves on because he knew who was blasting at the protective charms surrounding his office.

He had visited the boy's mother in hospital two days after he had been born, had held him just as he had held his brother before him, the same smile on his face as when he cradle his sister two years later. He had watched him grow, watched him toddle and then run, seen him turn from a bright, energetic, somewhat shy boy into a stranger, sunk so deep into the dark arts that it hurt to look upon him, especially for those who remembered the days when those emerald eyes had sparkled with curiosity rather than fear and hate.

He had known, how could he not, from the moment Albus had been in his third year that the boy had been practising dark magic. He had seen it in his eyes, he who had survived two wars and had led the aurors for years before eventually becoming Minister. He had let it go, seeing the glamour shrouded youth and knowing something was amiss because dammit he couldn't condemn a boy he had known he had still been a squalling infant.

He had seen the darkness die, pushed away by what wards he could scarce imagine but he knew that Albus had grown cold. How could he not, when his father scorned him at every turn, when his family neglected him more often than not.

He knew every child born to the Weasley family, that family of war heroes and close friends; and Albus had been the brightest of them all before becoming the first to fall.

But what was worse was that he agreed with the boy, he agreed with his ideology and his sue for the greater good. He himself had thought about it for years, seeing the oppression of the Slytherins but not daring do anything for fear of the public's outcry. It had been his greatest failing he now realised, that he had failed in his duty to keep his world safe from harm . . . by allowing them to shape their own worst enemies. Sooner or later all sins seem to catch up to the sinner, and his greatest sin had been turning a blind eye when he should have intervened.

Karma was a bitch, and now the wizarding world would reap was it had sowed for so very long.

He took in the image of himself, standing with his wand raised at the door like some scared housewife, afraid of what he himself had helped create. Shaking himself, he moved to sit behind his desk, wand placed on the calendar before him, grimly awaiting his fate with a solemn dignity.

The door crashed open, a smouldering wreck of tortured oak as three individuals stepped forward. He forced a smile to his face, now was not the time to be brazen, he must emulate Dumbledore, calm and nonchalant.

"By the amount of protection on your doorway, one would think you did not want to see me Minister," said Albus as he took a seat across from him. Draco and Scorpius Malfoy leaned against the opposite sides of the doorframe, a casual elegance playing about the purebloods that seemed out of place in the current circumstances.

"I prefer my guests make an appointment," said Kingsley, acknowledging his broken door with a tip of his head.

Albus chuckled dryly, "We're not here to kill you, if that's what you're worried about," he smirked and Kingsley barely repressed a shudder. Yes, he was afraid but not of Albus. Albus may have become many things but evil was not one of them. Kingsley knew what evil looked like; he had once looked into blood-red eyes and seen it, flickering in those hollowed sockets between bone-white skin and a serpentine skin. When he looked into Albus' eyes, all he saw was a boy who had been made to grow up too quickly and had suffered too much at the hands of those he had once loved. But beneath all that he saw love . . . and so Albus was not evil, he concluded, because that which is evil does not possess the ability to love.

"We are here to accept your resignation," continued Albus, "I have another position in mind for one such as you."

"And that is?" asked Kingsley, curious at the turn of events. He had not expected the Outcasts to be so civil – if one did not count the way they had broken into his office.

"The Auror Office will need a man of integrity and morality to lead them," said Albus, "You once flourished as Head Auror, perhaps it is time you returned to your former position."

"You would just let me walk into a position from which I can steadily oppose you?" he asked incredulously, his eyes wide.

"I am not a fool Kingsley," and the Minister noted the use of his first name, "You will make me the Unbreakable Vow to never take up arms or oppose my movement and I believe you to be a man of character. You may have been too blind to see the decay of society but I hope that we can put it behind us as we work for a better future."

Kingsley had truly not expected this; he nodded once before seeing the flaw in Albus' plan.

"There is already a Head Auror," he pointed out, though he was quite disgusted by that fact. The pure fact of the matter was that Harry had much more standing than he did, so when Harry had made Ron the Head Auror and had him acquitted of all charges there was nought that he could do.

"I believe my Aunt Hermione is dealing with him," said Albus with a lethal smirk, "She is quite vengeful when it comes to people who have hurt her children."

Kingsley gulped because there truly were very few things on earth that were more terrifying than an enraged Hermione Malfoy. _Karma truly is a bitch, _he thought as he raised his arm to make the Unbreakable Vow.

(*)(*)(*)

Ron dashed into his office, blood trickling down his face from the deep gash Hermione had inflicted upon him, barring the door with every defensive enchantment he knew. For good measure he swept his wand across the room to send his desk and bookshelf against the door, absurdly hoping it would be enough to keep his ex-wife out. She was coming after him; he could see it in her eyes the moment he had let fly the first curse, his jet of green light missing Hugo by an inch. He wondered absently at the back of his head why their enemy only stunned the Ministry's defenders – the Aurors had been fighting back with everything they had, killing curses and all.

"Hello Ron," a calm voice spoke from behind him and he whirled, he had no idea that there was already somebody in his office. His eyes widened at the sight before him, blond hair and silver flecked eyes of chocolate glaring at him menacingly. With a flick of her wand he was disarmed, his wand snapped in her grasp as she smirked – a decidedly Malfoyish look – and approached him.

"Aren't you going to apologise?" asked Rose, her eyes flickering with hate towards the man who had killed her child and prevented her from having more. The man she had spent over a decade calling _daddy._

"For what?" snarled Ron, backing away, well aware that he was unarmed and that Rose was as skilled with a wand as her mother was.

Rose raised her eyebrows at him, "Have it your own way then," and a silver knife appeared in her free hand, drawn from its sheathe within her sleeve. A second flick of her wand immobilised him before he could react and he swore loudly, he was defenceless.

"This is for killing my child," she said softly, her voice dripping with malice as she sank the blade into his abdomen. He gasped at the pain, blood blossoming across his robes as the immobilising charm kept him from instinctively clamping a hand over the bloody wound.

"This is for making me barren," she said, drawing out the knife and stabbing it forward a second time, causing him to cry out in pain as he felt the tip of the blade puncture a kidney.

"This is for killing my brother's girlfriend," she said, stabbing again, this time driving the knife into his right lung. Her smirk never died as she saw him begin to gasp for breath, his stabbed lung collapsing in upon itself.

"This is because I hate you," she said one final time, bringing the knife up into his stomach, slicing it open and then stepping back as his blood flowed freely, pooling upon the ground. She shook her head in disgust as he fell, released from her spell as she turned to walk away, a wave of her hand all it taking to blast open the door. Rose thought that taking vengeance would have lightened her, instead it only made her feel more empty as she lost what once had been her driving force in life. The need to avenge herself was now gone making her feel strangely lost and alone.

When she had asked her mother to allow her to take her own revenge Hermione had nodded and given her assent, for although Hermione had been hurt, Rose had been the one to suffer.

And Hermione Malfoy had never denied her children that which they desired.

She never saw Ron claw his way towards the fireplace, coughing blood and staining the carpet red as he reached for the floo-powder.

(*)(*)(*)

"What the hell," she said, taking a step back, her eyes betraying her fear as he advanced on her. She didn't have her wand on her; it lay on her bedside table because she had trusted the wards on her property to keep her safe.

They hadn't, Harry Potter now approached her with a grim look in his eye, his wand held threateningly in front of him.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he said coldly, "We need a bargaining chip to keep that filth from seizing the Ministry." She fumbled behind her for a weapon, anything that she could use to defend herself, her fingers finding the stem of a crystalline vase and gripping it tightly to swing. Harry stepped forward, seeming to take her silence as her surrender but then she struck, the vase shattering against his temple with as much force as she could muster.

He staggered backwards, blood soaking into his hair from a shallow cut as she turned to use his shock to her advantage. She hoped she could run, grab her broomstick from the kitchen and flee. Her back was turned, she was at the kitchen door when she felt the spell strike her in her back. She cried out before falling to the ground, bound by a dozen tight ropes.

"I don't like this Harry," muttered Deniss Creevy as he levitated her into the air, "Do we really need a hostage."

"We do," said Harry firmly, though his voice shook ever so slightly, "He will come for her . . . we can use her to draw my son out into the open."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Dennis, warily eyeing the twitching witch who floated before him.

"He loves her," responded Harry coolly, "And love is the death of any Potter, even ones as evil as my son."

(*)(*)(*)

Rita Skeeter bustled excitedly through the heaving crowd as she made her way towards the podium, her quick-notes quill scribbling with a speed she had never before seen, her journalistic senses tingling with anticipation. To her surprise the Minister stood before them, looking extremely solemn even for him as he stood to address the growing crowd. She had expected Shackebolt to be dead by now, a shame that he had survived the attack; it would have made a good front-page story. It didn't surprise her however that the Malfoy family stood flanking him, the very epitome of grace and poise as the stood surrounding the Minister. Mr. And Mrs Malfoy stood with a callous indifference, both their eyes reflecting pride as they watched their children. Their daughter Rose Granger, a curse breaker of formidable repute stood with her blouse splashed with blood, she hastily signalled for her cameraman to snap a photo. There was no doubt a story in there somewhere.

The sons, Hugo and Scorpius Malfoy both had their family's trademark smirk across their faces, the lawyer and the businessman both seeming content to let the Minister have the stage for the nonce. Rita did not however miss the fact that they both had their hands on their wands, their posture telling her that they were ready for the slightest hint of trouble. The son-in-law; Albus Potter stood at Draco's side, his lips moving as he spoke to the older man in a hushed voice. Cassiopeia Potter, his lady wife, was noticeable only by her absence. No doubt Albus would have kept his pregnant bride home in the safety of the manor than bring her to the forefront of a coup.

"Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen," began the Minister in his deep, reassuring voice, causing Rita to divert her full attention to him. Her quick notes quill hummed hurriedly as it jotted down his words.

"I have gathered you here today to let it be known that in lieu of recent event I, Kingsley Shacklebolt, am hereby resigning as Minister of Magic. This is not a forced resignation; I firmly follow the principles and the ideologies of the Outcasts and have since come to terms with Albus Potter, the leader of their movement. I have held the position of Minister for nigh on two decades and I have watched our society begin to decay from within which is why I agree with Albus when I say that it is time for change. Therefore, please allow me to introduce you to my successor . . . Draco Malfoy."

The room filled with jeers of disapproval, however these emanated from a single circle of individuals, quickly dimming when they noted that the majority of the crowd seemed either approving or at the very least, reserving judgement for the present. Rita made certain to take down the names of those who had been attempting to cause trouble. Then a thought struck her.

"Mr. Shacklebolt!" she called loudly as he turned away to give Draco the stage, "What does this mean for you?"

"I will be returning to the Auror Office, where I hope I can repair the damage that has been done to it." he said cordially with a nod of his head, his proclamation seemed to have impressed the crowd. The failure of Ron Weasley had been highly publicised by none other than Rita, who had received a tip off from an unlikely source – Rose Granger (On Albus' orders) – and the entire room know knew about the mass resignation. She quickly shook her head as Draco began to speak, strangely enough though she found herself agreeing with a great number of things that he said. She found this shocking, as a journalist she did not usually take sides but she could not deny that he raised a valid point.

It also helped that the Outcasts, while having taken numerous prisoners during the assault on the Ministry, had not killed a single member of their opposition. The same could not be said for the Ministry, who had claimed the lives of eight Outcasts by the time the fighting was over.

Just then her eyes flared as she saw a patronus, a mighty luminescent stag gallop into the room and leap onto the stage, seeming to glare reproachfully at Albus.

"Surrender the Ministry and yourself," said the voice of Harry Potter, cold and unyielding, "Or we kill the woman that you love most." There was a fleck of remorse and hesitation in his voice, Rita was sure she had imagined it. Her quill nearly burst with excitement as she contemplated this new twist, wondering what headlines she could use that would prove most apt. Perhaps, _The Boy Who Blackmailed? _

Rita noticed the distraught look on Draco's face as the Stag kept speaking, the furious glares shared by Cassiopeia's three siblings . . . and the look of utter hatred etched on Albus Potter's face as he listened to his father's demands.

Just then the Patronus screamed in a woman's voice, high-pitched, fearful, yet grimly determined – obviously their prisoner had broken free and interrupted the patronus to send a message of her own."

"Don't listen to them Albus! They'll kill you the second you–!" screamed Ginny Weasley, before the sound of a harsh slap and the whisper of a crumpling body echoed through the room. The patronus cursed and vanished, leaving Albus Potter trembling with barely concealed rage. Rose stepped forward, knowing what happened when Albus became overtly emotional. The journalist watched as his jaw was set, roughly mouthing the words to himself:

"He has my mother."

Rita watched in stunned silence as the boy began to exude waves of feral darkness, so forebodingly powerful that she took a step back, her quill freezing, for once unsure of what to do. She watched, still shocked at the power he seemed to hold as Hermione and Draco exchanged fervent looks and tried to approach, both being shoved back by the force of his magic.

"Scorpius! Stun him dammit!" yelled Draco, holding an arm to shield his eyes as the darkness flowed out harsh and unyielding. Scorpius nodded; his hesitation evident in his eyes. "Stupefy," he said finally at the same time as Hugo, the twin jets of red light flying at their brother-in-law and fizzling out into a shower of sparks before they could get anywhere near. Albus cocked his head towards them, his green eyes burned black, the whites bloodshot. Then he apparated with a harsh crack, leaving the atrium flooded in dark energy.

(*)(*)(*)

Albus stalked up the pathway to Grimmauld Place, the protective wards his father had set against him breaking like glass as he moved forward, the Shadow of Bellatrix prowling at his side. She had felt his darkness erupt and she had come, her spectral eyes gleaming with malice. A bolt of lightning flashed from the roiling sky, the dark clouds spreading like a blight from directly over where he stood.

Albus felt himself tremble, his heart pounded out of rhythm, the straining shadows fighting to break through the wards and blocks. He grimaced, clutching at his chest to steady himself before glaring at the doorway of his childhood home, sending the wooden structure blasting off its hinges. There was a roar of thunder as a crashing arc of lightning tore through the sky, striking the ground and blasting a small crater into the slate-stone pathway.

"Stupefy!" he heard the yells, four jets of red light came shrieking through the air and for a moment his magic flared, causing the stunners to rebound away from him with hisses and an explosion of sparks. He reached out his hand and flicked his wrist, instantly rewarded by the pain filled yells of his foes as they were forcefully flung aside. His father reared up, wand clutched tightly, aiming at his heart. His mother screamed as the tip of Harry's wand glowed harsh and green.

"Bellatrix," he commanded, "Kill!"

And Bella let out a joyful cry of ecstasy as she tore through the air, her shadowy claws weaving bloody furrows through the three men who had stood with his father. The Shadow moved with a feline grace, slashing the air and laughing manically, a fell voice upon the air as Albus moved to unbind his mother from the chair she was tied too. To the Order members who could not see her, insubstantial as a Shadow was, it seemed as though Albus had loosed death itself upon them.

Harry stared in dumbstruck horror, his wand slipping from his grip as Bella shredded the skin of his arm. Cursing in pain he stumbled backwards, before pouring his own energy into the air – to make their attacker visible.

He blanched, bleeding arms shivering in terror as he saw her in all her dark glory, the darkest witch to ever live. Bellatrix smirked as she felt the flows of magic envelop her before flying forward to finish the job.

"Stop!" came a cry from the doorway and Bella froze despite herself, for that was her mistress's voice, whose blood and magic was bound to her master. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as Bella flitted back to Albus' side in disappointment, scowling when he saw an unconscious Ginny in his son's arms. He had obviously rescued her whilst his minion had been keeping them busy. He scowled at his rescuer, his youngest daughter-in-law standing resplendent in her righteous anger, when had she gotten here?

"Albus," her voice was cool and clear, her platinum hair dispelling the darkness which clouded his eyes as she grabbed his wrist in an iron grip. He let out a groan as he felt the darkness settle, roiling painfully where it had been bound and feeling the magic he had loosed sink back into his heart. Above the house the sky began to clear as he was overcome with dizziness. Stumbling, he slumped, nearly dropping Ginny as he clung almost-limply against his wife's side. Harry had to give the girl credit, she was stronger than she looked for though she seemed a little unsteady on her feet, she still supported her husband and mother-in-law's weight with her own body.

"You owe me a life debt," snarled Cassiopeia Potter as she glared at the father-in-law. The prone man watched in disbelief as she dispelled her husband's darkness, her soothing voice drawing him back to the world of light and life. Harry watched his son's jet black eyes clear, fading to their usual green.

"I spared your life," continued his daughter-in-law, "Only because I don't want my husband to have to live with blood on his hands. In payment I ask that you to stay away from my family."

Then with a graceful twirl, she apparated Ginny, Albus and herself back to the Manor.

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Thoughts?


	17. Chapter 16

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Heartbeat and Heartbreak**

Cassiopeia sighed loudly as she renewed the wards surrounding her husband's heart, ignoring the grim knowledge that his last attack had nearly destroyed them. She herself couldn't bind them to be as powerful as they once were, but she could heal a few of the cracks and broken glyphs so as to increase their durability. Albus whimpered beneath her touch, the terrible feeling of weakness that always came over him after periods during which his dark energy had surfaced was hurting his body badly this time. She could feel how raw his heart felt, his veins scraped like bloodied sandpaper by the warring darkness and light within himself. If she hadn't arrived when she had . . . no, she didn't want to think about what may have happened.

She didn't want to think about how close she had come to losing him.

Her father had managed to convince the general public that Albus was not a danger to society; he was merely a very powerful wizard who in his anger had lost control and begun performing accidental magic. Due to his new power as Minister of Magic, he had been able to back this statement up with credible – forged, not that the public needed to know that – evidence about how extreme emotions could cause a wizard to lose control.

The fact that Harry Potter had kidnapped his ex-wife and tried to use her to murder his own son had not gone over well with the majority of the wizarding world, especially as the crowd who witnessed his patronus had been laced through with highly influential individuals and journalists. Both groups had spread the tale near and far causing Harry and his remaining loyalists to have to go into hiding. Draco and Hermione were both adamant that they were going to continue causing trouble but now that The Outcasts had the power of the Ministry backing them they didn't see what possible damage the Boy-Who-Lived could possibly do. Cassiopeia had also bound the senior Potter with a life debt and she was confident he would be leaving her family alone.

One did not mess with a life debt; just ask Peter Pettigrew and his silver hand.

Her main concern now was Albus and how to protect him from the darkness within. Her husband was a good man, she hated that his traumatic childhood had led them to making several mistakes that may haunt him for the rest of his life. She was scared that one day she may lose him to the shadows, which was something she couldn't contemplate right now.

"Done," she breathed, smiling wanly as Albus rose from the bed and shrugged his shirt back on, a glimmer of hesitation in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm sorry," were the first words he spoke to her since the incident, she didn't know how to respond. He had nothing to be sorry for, he was the victim of his father's malignity. So she hugged him, pulling him in for a deep embrace and kissing him on his forehead. He shivered slightly, still suffering from the aftermath of his trials.

"It isn't your fault," she said softly, "She's your mother." Albus nodded slowly, leaning his head against her shoulder, his free hand laid across her stomach; now four months pregnant. He hadn't understood what had come over him, when Harry had insinuated that he had the woman he loved most in the world captive he had gone ballistic, completely forgetting that Cassiopeia was safely ensconced in Malfoy Manor and that his father had no way on getting through the wards without invitation. But then he had heard his mother's scream and he had completely lost control.

She was recovering from her ordeal now, asleep in one of the guest rooms of the Manor. According to James, she would be moving in with him and Alison until their father was brought to justice. Things were still difficult between the two boys but they had since regained a semblance of their former bond. While they weren't as close as they had been in the past, they were talking again – James showing up to his baby brothers wedding had a step in the right direction for the brothers and for that alone, Albus was willing to try and make things work with James because he would always be his big brother . . . and he had missed him.

If there was one thing both boys could agree on though, it was that Harry was bad news. Albus had known for years but when their father kidnapped Ginny it had pulled from James the last hopes that his father was just misguided.

It still scared him how close he had come to losing himself in the darkness though and he knew that he owed everything to Cass because once again she had saved him from himself.

"Thank you for bringing me back," he whispered into her ear, his breath ghosting over her lobe as she rubbed his back.

"I will _always_ be there to bring you back," she replied, inhaling his scent as he held onto to her as if his life depended on it, "Always."

(*)(*)(*)

"Xav," said Kat nervously as she sat across from him on the window seat, her body tense as she extended her legs so that they lay draped over his own, "I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" he looked at her in concern, a light smile on his face as his eyes fell over the engagement ring worn on her finger. He had never been happier in his life as when she agreed to marry him – although they both had agreed that a long engagement would be in order until things settled down. Like as not they were now very high profile individuals because the Outcasts were in power. The pair found that they were often stalked by journalists and the paparazzi because they were both lieutenants in the Outcast hierarchy. It didn't help in the slightest that the world was changing for the better and a great many of the old pureblood families viewed them as revolutionary heroes whilst Harry's loyalists viewed them as neo-death eaters.

So what if they used dark magic, they used it for the greater good.

Already new legislature was being put in place, teaching standards had been revamped to prevent the abuse of power by the Hogwarts Professors – Neville Longbottom was currently serving two years in Azkaban for crimes against Wizardkind; it was surprising how many were willing to speak up once the justice system was no longer rigged to solely support the other houses – and there was already greater tolerance between the students of Hogwarts.

But of course there were those who preferred looking at the negatives, Harry for one still had his agents and propaganda against them was regularly surfacing. The latest had attempted to gain sympathy for playing on the fact that Neville – a war hero – was rotting in Azkaban because of the Outcasts. They had readily bit back by Cassiopeia, Rose and Elena Flint all dropping their gloves and exposing the scars along the back on their hands to the general public. After that stunt, Harry and his Loyalists didn't try using Neville as a symbol again.

But that was beside the point because from what he could tell right now, Kat's eyes were darkly ringed, her face pale and her voice bespoke a degree of nervousness. He looked at her worriedly when she didn't answer, "You ok Kat?"

"I'm . . ." she struggled to get the words out, "I'm pregnant Xavier." Then she closed her eyes, not wanting to see his expression for fear of what it may entail. What if he didn't want kids? What if he didn't want to marry her anymore? What if he didn't want _her_ anymore? Xavier and her had never discussed the future much, neither had discussed children, they had even both mutually agreed to put of their wedding and enjoy engaged life for a while. What if he wasn't ready?

"I'm going to be a dad?" she cracked open her eyes and stared; the stunned glee in his voice was definitely not feigned. When she nodded he let out a delighted cry before scooping her up and spinning her around the room, "I'm gonna be a dad," he kept repeating, a broad, wondrous smile across his face.

She felt a weight lift of her shoulders, she needed to stop doubting their relationship, needed to stop fearing the unknown.

Because it was and it always with be Xavier and her against the world.

(*)(*)(*)

"Tough day?" asked Hermione as she soaked in the steaming, jasmine scented waters of her bath, feeling the knots in her tense shoulders and back unwind.

"Very much so," sighed Draco from beside the sink, his words slightly garbled by the toothbrush in his mouth. It was late and as usual he had been forced to grab dinner at the Ministry canteen whilst Hermione dined with her step-daughter. Cassiopeia was the only one who made it home for dinner most days, solely because Albus insisted she only work half-days at the Potions department due to her pregnancy. She was the head of that particular department, although Albus ran the actual laboratories.

"Any news of Ron and Harry?" she asked, knowing the answer but hoping that she could lift her husband's tensions by getting him to talk about it.

"No, both seem to have gone to ground," muttered Draco, "Though Kingsley is searching for them."

"The three of us spent an entire year hiding from Voldemort and his death eaters," pointed out Hermione, "If they don't want to be found then Kingsley won't find them."

"They only managed to elude capture back then because you where with them," said Draco, "And I'd rather not discuss Pothead and the Weasel right now."

They continued like that in silence for a while, Hermione bathing while he prepared for bed. After a while though, Hermione spoke again, her eyes somewhat dark with lust as she surveyed her husband, now clad only in his boxers.

"Care to join me?" she asked, it had been too long since they had made love, they had both been so caught up in the recent events.

"'Mione," whimpered Draco, "I'm so tired."

"I just need you to wash my back," she said with a shrug, knowing he wanted her as much as she wanted him. He was after all a man . . . and if she thought it had been too long Merlin only knew what he thought.

"Fine," he grumbled, slipping of his shorts and slipping into the water behind her, stifling a yawn which rapidly transformed into a low moan as she lay against him, her back flush against his chest. She turned her head slightly to trail a line of kisses along his jaw.

"Still not in the mood," she murmured teasingly.

"Oh shut up 'Mione," he said huskily, tilting his head to press his lips to hers.

(*)(*)(*)

"Rose?" asked Delphin cautiously as he stepped out of their fireplace, troubled at the sounds of sobbing which flowed from their bedroom. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the tiredness from his eyes, dropping his bag onto the couch as he went looking for her. He didn't know why she was upset to the point of tears because Rose never cried – he had seen her cry only twice in her life and he had known her for near a decade.

She was lying on their bed, hugging her pillow as tightly as she could and soaking it through with her tears. When she saw him enter she looked away, shivering lightly in the cold. He noticed that the thermostat was as usual turned down low, an obvious sign that she was moody. He knew that Rose always preferred the cold when she was emotional.

"Rosie," he said her name again as he lay down beside her still in his work clothes, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, not deigning to turn to face him, her body wracked with those heaving sobs that broke his heart. He hated seeing her upset; he hated it when he couldn't heal her hurts. Because when Rose hurt . . . Delphin hurt, it had been what drove him to consider her as a steady girlfriend, the fact that he genuinely cared for her unlike all the other girls he had been with before her.

"Talk to me love," he said, shifting to lay on his side so that he had an arm placed over her. She tried to shake him off but he held firm and after a bit she stopped fighting and seemed to shrink into him.

"I'm a horrible person," she said finally, her voice tiny and weak as he ran his free hand through her hair. He remained silent as he threaded his fingers though her waves of golden silk, waiting for her to continue.

"Kat came by today and told me she was pregnant," said Rose in that same sad voice, the one that Delphin was coming to loathe because it made his Rosie sound so weak and vulnerable when she was the strongest woman he knew, "And instead of feeling happy for her all I felt was jealousy." The news that Kat was pregnant flitted by him, stored away for future reference, she was not his immediate concern. Rose was. And in that moment he hated Ron more than he had ever hated him or any other, he hated him for stabbing her, he hated him for killing their child and he bitterly hoped that he had painfully bled to death after Rose was done with him.

They hadn't found a body though.

"I'm sorry," said Delphin quietly, not really knowing what to say because of course it must hurt Rose now more than ever, what with her sister and best friend both being pregnant. "You're not a bad person Rose," he continued, "It's natural to feel that way. I feel like a terrible person every time I look at Albus and feel envious that he's so happy about starting a family because I can't have that." As soon as the words left his mouth and he felt her stiffen, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"I didn't mean it like that Rose," he said quickly, "There are so many other ways to be parents, I've been thinking we could look at adoption agencies," he babbled, not really knowing what he was saying but trying to soothe her, because he hadn't meant it. He loved her like the stars loved the moon in that he could shine alongside no other but her. He loved her drive and her passion, he loved her and even if they could not start their own family there were other ways – surrogacy and adoption, both of which he had asked Hugo to look into legally for them. It didn't matter if their children may not be his blood.

Rose would always be worth it to him.

"It's ok," she mumbled and he knew dammit he knew that she was lying but like a fool he believed her, "Let's just get some sleep." Delphin nodded mutely, stung by her pained voice but deciding he would let her sleep and they would talk in the morning. He sighed and closed his eyes, not intending to actually sleep.

A few hours later he woke and in the white light of the moon he threw out his arm and her side of the bed was cold, empty save for a single scrap of parchment.

_You can have all of that, just not with me . . ._

_I love you Del, that's why I need to let you go._

_-R_

(*)(*)(*)

Albus groaned audibly as the sky-blue paint dripped of the brush and splattered across his hair, he was painting the nursery and both he and Cass had decided to go against the traditional house colours approach and to paint the room a neutral blue – especially seeing as their healer at St. Mungo's told them that they were indeed expecting a boy.

Albus just hoped he didn't inherit his messy hair.

Glaring crossly at his two companions to ward off his brother-in-laws' sniggers he turned back to the plain white walls to continue painting. Both Hugo and Scorpius had been recruited to help by Hermione and she had locked the three into the former guestroom without their wands insisting she would not let them out till the room was painted. The three had scowled at that, especially since they could expect no help from Xavier – who was painting the nursery which had once been the guest bedroom at his apartment – or Delphin, who had been an emotional wreck since Rose had left a month ago. From what the three of them could piece together, mainly Hugo who had used his legal connections and expertise to find out what he could, she had handed in her resignation to The Guild by buying her way out of the contract and had left the country on an assignment for Gringotts. Delphin on the other hand was putting all of his efforts into tracking her down and nothing his friends said could dissuade him –He wanted his Rose back.

"Why did mum take our wands," complained Hugo and he painted white fluffy clouds onto the one wall on which the blue paint had already dried, "We could be done by now."

"I blame Albus for knocking up our sister," grumbled Scorpius, his shirt splattered with yellow from when he had attempted to paint a sun; thankfully Hugo knew enough wandless magic to clean up the floors.

"I could blame you for the same," pointed out Albus crossly as he wiping his brow hurriedly to keep the paint from leaking into his eye, instantly regretting his jibe when he saw the dark look in his best friend's face. Scowling, Scorpius turned his back on them and began to violently assault the last remaining wall with his paintbrush. Hugo and Albus just exchanged looks, neither of them knew what Scor was going through – neither knew what it was like to never know your own child.

(*)(*)(*)

"Where are the boys?" asked Draco curiously as he helped himself to lunch, a muggle delicacy that Hermione called "Pizza" which was apparently very tasty. He reserved the right to pass judgement, sniffing suspiciously at the triangular piece of bread and squinting at the melted cheese with an expression of utmost mistrust.

Not that he thought Hermione would poison him but one never knew when it came to muggle foods. He still remembered the time she had tried introducing him to "sushi" which he had thought quite tasty until realising it was basically raw fish. He had spent the week on the couch in protest.

"Painting the nursery," said Cass with a smug smirk on her face, exchanging a wink with Hermione as she walked in with a bowl of spaghetti bolognaise Hermione had cooked specially for her – the slightest mention of cravings often had Lady Malfoy scurrying about to make her step-daughter comfortable. Hermione was for her part putting on a brave face and trying to stay strong for her son – who was taking Rose's absence very badly – whilst inside she was crumbling because she had no idea where Rose was or if she was ok. Draco was faring better, although he was also worried about his daughter.

The tantalising aroma from Cass' food filled the room as she pushed her fork in, breaking the keep-fresh charm. Draco stared ruefully at the delicious home cooked meal and then back at the pizza, wondering if he could perhaps vanish the lunch without his wife noticing and then floo to the Leaky Cauldron for a quick bite.

"Draco," said Hermione, "You haven't touched your food." The brunette was struggling to contain her mirth as she watched her husband scrutinize his meal as if it was about to leap up and attack him.

"You know I'm unsure about these muggle dishes 'Mione," he said, taking a timid bite of the tip, his eyes suddenly widening in delight. Much to the two ladies amusement, he proceeded to then scarf down four entire slices before settling back in his chair with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Anything else dear?" chuckled Hermione whilst winking at her stepdaughter as Cass stifled a laugh at her father's antics; her brothers and husband where exactly the same as her father. She was beginning to see where Scorpius got his table manners from.

"These muggles are quite genius," he proclaimed, oblivious to their teasing, "I do believe we should try muggle beer next, it can't be that different from butterbeer."

Cassiopeia couldn't help it, she burst out laughing.

(*)(*)(*)

"I miss this," said James in a wistful tone, nudging his brother as he sipped at his beer. The brothers weren't bosom friends yet, they wouldn't be in a long time after all the hurt they had inflicted out on each other but at the very least them both making the effort to meet was a start in mending their relationship.

"Miss what?" asked Albus, leaning back against the windscreen of his brother's car; the other boy beside him. Why James needed a car he would never know and he would rather not ask. He reached into his pocket for his worn box of cigarettes, the same box he had had since his schooldays and pulled out a fag.

"I miss us," said James honestly, "I miss being able to spend time with my baby brother."

"You think I wanted to lose my brother?" asked Albus, a tad defensively, his voice slightly thick but there was a biting edge to it. James could tell he was repressing something because after all, he knew his brother . . . time, pain, estrangement, none of those things could dim either boys knowledge of the other.

"No," James replied quietly, the usual well of guilt flooding him when he realised that he had nobody but himself to blame for breaking the bonds of their brotherhood. Sure their father and society had played a hand but he had done nothing to publically salvage their bond.

Sometimes doing nothing was a worse crime than doing everything.

"I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I–" he began, feeling he should say something, anything; because he owed it to his brother.

"Damn right you can never do that," interrupted Albus with a snort, "I needed you back then James, you were the person who was supposed to always have my back, not the bastard who would stab me in it. But honestly that's in the past so let's just leave it there James; I don't know if I can forgive you. I'll try but I can't promise that I will. But lets' just start fresh, we both did horrible things to each other – even though to be honest I only ever acted in self defence. So let's just wipe the slate clean and move on . . . as brothers."

James nodded, glad that he was being given the chance to do right by the brother he had failed. Albus offered him a strange look, his lips trembling ever so slightly as hazel met emerald, their eyes both filled with remorse and things better left unsaid. James shook his head when Al held out the box of cigarettes.

"You still haven't lost that habit," said James, his tone lighter, an edge of teasing slipping back into his voice. He hadn't spoken to Al like this in a long time.

"You knew?" Albus raised an eyebrow. It wasn't as if he smoked often whilst he lived at Grimmauld Place, he only lit one if his door was heavily warded and he had been to beat up to use dark magic to numb himself. And he had only begun smoking on the Hogwarts grounds after James had left Hogwarts.

"Just because we weren't speaking and I was out of school, doesn't mean I didn't check up on you from time to time," said James, suddenly realising how much like a stalker he sounded like. He wasn't though, he had just been there in the background all those times. When Al had locked himself in his room after their father had been particularly violent, James had often climbed in through the window once Al was asleep – he had smelt the acrid nicotine many a times whilst he magically filtered the air and cast numbing charms on his brother's bruises. Or that some days he would slip dreamless sleep into his brother's dinner just to make sure the younger boy didn't have nightmares – he had never heard Albus scream, but he knew a silencing ward when he sensed it. These were things that Albus would never know because James would never –could never – tell him. He would never confess that he had been there by his side, hiding in the shadows the entire time because that would mean admitting he had been too ashamed to help his brother face-to-face.

He felt himself relax when Albus slung an arm across his shoulders, apprehensively at first but still the attempt had been made.

"You know something Jay-Jay," said Albus with a weak smile and James felt ready to do a happy dance because only two people called him that and he had never thought to hear it again . . . not with Lily having dropped off the face of the world and his brother having become so estranged, "I think we'll be alright."

(*)(*)(*)

"Al," called Cassandra, somewhat imperiously, from the couch she was reclining on. The living room was quite full; her mother, step-mother and mother-in-law where all present, as was Kat and her future sister-in-law Francesca (Hugo hadn't proposed but Cass had overheard him asking Albus for advice on the matter). Her actual sister-in-law Victoire was here as well, looking distinctly awkward but remaining polite to everyone – apart from Ginny and Hermione, the rest of the women were all pretty much strangers to her. The men had been playing a game of Quidditch in the yard and from the looks of it Teddy and her father seemed to have hit it off rather well; then again they were cousins. Delphin was not present; he had left the previous night saying he wouldn't be coming home till he had found Rose. Albus walked over tiredly, looking slightly worn out from the game but smiling at her nonetheless.

"My leg itches and I just got comfortable," she said sweetly, winking as he groaned but nevertheless kneeled at the foot of the couch to scratch her calf.

"Mate, I can see her thumbprint on the top of your head," laughed Teddy, earning chuckles from the other men. "Whipped," muttered Xavier with a teasing grin.

"Teddy dear," said Victoire, a soft smirk playing on her lips as she spoke, "I remember you shaving my legs for me when I was pregnant with Andy." The metamorphmagus flushed, his hair bright red, hanging his head slightly as the men chuckled and several of the women giggled. Andrea was their daughter; there was a six year age gap between Remy and her but the pregnancy had been very difficult on Victoire. He had had to do things.

"I recall that you painted my toe-nails just last week Xav," teased Kat and her fiancé turned bright red, Draco opened his mouth to comment.

"Don't even start Draco," said Astoria with a wink, and the Minister of Magic fell silent, remembering that he had served two pregnancies with the woman. He shuddered; she really did have dirt on him. He didn't like the looks that were being exchanged by Hermione and Astoria either; it would be just like his ex-wife to spill his dirty details to his current wife.

"You guys were saying?" smirked Albus as he settled onto the couch with his wife's legs on his lap, "Whose the whipped one's now?"

"Albus!" chirped up Cassiopeia suddenly, "I want triple chocolate mint ice-cream."

"Yes dear," he said rolling his eyes at her sudden craving, ignoring the knowing looks from the people around him. Pregnancy had driven her quite crazy but it was his job to indulge her. She was after all, carrying his perfect baby boy.

(*)(*)(*)

"You alright, Scorp?" asked Albus as he studied his best friend, who had seemed oddly contemplative these past few days. Scorpius had been avoiding the family for the most part so Albus had floo'ed in straight to the Headquarters of Malfoy Holdings where his brother-in-law worked. Now that he had several years of experience and tutelage from Draco under his belt he was doing remarkably well at managing the family business, which was important considering that Draco was now Minister and could no run the Ministry and the business at the same time.

Malfoy Holdings was now the leading name in all fields, especially after Hermione had placed her own assets under their control – to be sure she still owned them as an individual but it was too taxing to manage her own business affairs, her department at Malfoy Holdings, be a Matriarch to her family and assist her husband with his own high-ranking job.

Scorpius' secretary had been instructed to not allow anyone into the boss' office as he hadn't wanted to see anyone. On the other hand, considering Albus was a Malfoy in all but name and blood and had married the boss' sister . . . the poor lady hadn't dared try and block his way.

"Not really, mate," responded the blonde boy, gesturing to the decanter of gin and motioning for Albus to pour them drinks. Albus frowned at this, it was barely midday, but he poured the drinks nonetheless.

"What's on your mind then?" asked Albus, sitting across from him, his frown deepening when he saw Scorpius gulp the generous serving of gin in a single fluid motion.

"It's his birthday today," said Scorpius quietly and Albus didn't need to hear anymore because he now knew exactly what was troubling his friend. It was his son's birthday, the son he had never seen save for a single newborn picture.

"I'm sorry Scor," said Al comfortingly, reaching across the table to pat his friend on the arm and pour another round. Alcohol seemed the appropriate solution in the situation.

"My son is two years old today and he has never had the chance to meet his father," sighed Scorpius as once again he downed the drink in one. Albus remained companionably silent – what exactly could he say?

"He has her eyes you know," said Scorpius after a while, "But my hair." He laughed humourlessly, "Merlin, How can I miss someone I have never met so fucking badly?"

(*)(*)(*)

"Harry," snapped Ron angrily, diverting his best friend's attention from the map he had been studying, "We need a plan!" He had barely survived Roses' assault, he had only lived thanks to Percy's showing up at Grimmauld Place to find Harry and stumbling across them all lying about the house soaked in blood. Ron had floo'ed there but fallen into unconsciousness from blood loss in the upstairs fireplace. When he had come too later he had dragged himself down the stairs to find Harry and a few members of the Order torn to shreds. Harry had barely survived the attack.

Both men were disgusted by the fact that the Outcasts were now in power and so they had rallied a small number of individuals to their cause. Thus were born the Loyalists, all of whom would be damned before they saw the snakes in power. It rankled on Ron and Harry's minds that The Ferret was now Minister whilst his spawn was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and that Minerva and Kingsley both seemed to support the new government. Indeed, Minerva had been highly responsive to making several changes to Hogwarts now that Albus and Draco had dealt with the bigots who comprised the school's Board of Governors. The only governors to retain their positions had been George Weasley and Blaise Zabini; both of whom agreed with the new concepts. Already the Loyalists had been repulsed to learn that there was a new compulsory class for all students of Hogwarts called _Unity Studies_ along with several new inter-house programmes and team-building exercises. All these endeavours where proving hugely successful in Minerva's eyes as kinship between the four houses had never been stronger. Harry was appalled, the youth were now being encouraged to befriend and trust the serpents.

In Ron's eyes it was worse that Minerva had not raised a finger to defend "poor" Neville when he had been arrested and thrown in Azkaban. In actual fact, Minerva had been prepared to cruciate Neville when she discovered what exactly he had been doing to her students. Teddy Lupin now stood as Head of Gryffindor and from what Harry had heard, whilst he was much loved and respected by his own house he brooked no favourites and had been one of the first professors to support the new "Unity Programme."

Harry had never been so disappointed by his godson in his entire life; he could only imagine how Remus and Tonks must be rolling in their graves because their son was supporting the very house that had killed them.

As it stood though, the Loyalists could expect no assistance from Hogwarts.

Neither could they gain any aid from the Ministry, especially since Kingsley and Draco had had them both excommunicated from the Aurors and named them wanted men. Kingsley had been shaken to his core after viewing Albus' and Ginny's memories and had been forced to agree that Harry needed to be brought to justice for his actions. More so after Albus had shared several memories from his schooldays.

Once again the Loyalists were angry at his reaction . . . in their mind Kingsley had decided to betray them as well.

Both men were now convinced that the Outcasts were affiliated with the Dark and were planning to take control of their world; it started with this unity nonsense, soon enough there would be muggle hunting taking place in the streets if the Outcasts had their way (or so Ron claimed). Harry seemed to have gone into kamikaze mode; he was determined to commit the ultimate sin.

_Save their world by killing his son._

The thought made Ron queasy, he was sure there was a special place in hell for those who spilled the blood of their family. He stabbing Rose was another matter entirely, she was not his daughter. She had betrayed him her entire life, no doubt poisoning his ex-wife against him from the moment the ferret spawn had injected her into his ex-wife's womb. He paused suddenly, seeing Harry grimace in pain and press a hand over his failing heart, pumping the organ full of magical energy to keep it beating.

By going against the lift debt he owed Cassiopeia Potter and continuing to plot against the Outcast movement, Harry was dying . . . every one of the Loyalists knew it. But he was an exceptionally powerful wizard and he was prolonging the inevitable for as long as possible. He had to save their world once again. Only then would he accept death.

"When playing a game of chess what is the most powerful piece on the board?" asked Harry contemplatively, causing Percy to look up his seat to pay attention to their conversation.

"The queen," responded Ron instantly, not seeing what his friend was implying.

"So to win the war, we must kill the queen," he said softly, and Percy's eyes widened in comprehension.

"She's the most powerful witch alive Harry," the bespectacled Weasley pointed out, he had only joined his brother and Harry in their vendetta because he wanted to avenge his daughter. Audrey had pleaded for him to come home but he could not, not whilst Molly's killers remained at large. Had his daughter not been a victim of this war, for that was what it was, he would actually find himself in agreement with a great number of the Outcast's ideologies. He had seen the significant restructuring of the Ministry and could not deny that Albus was achieving a lot of good in their world.

"She must fall so that we can rise," he said darkly, "She's my son's greatest lieutenant."

"Hermione," said Ron, "You're talking about killing Hermione."

(*)(*)(*)

A/N: Thoughts?


	18. Chapter 17

**The Good Son**

**Chapter 17**

**Requiem**

Alison glanced around the room uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with her sister-in-law. She had accompanied her husband to visit his brother at Malfoy Manor and she felt distinctly unwelcome. Of course, she couldn't expect much else considering her shameful behaviour in the past, she had allowed herself to be manipulated by her father's prejudice but now that she was older and more mature she truly felt ashamed of her schoolgirl self.

Across the room from her, Cassiopeia looked equally ill at ease. She had no love for the older woman and the fact that they were now related by marriage meant nothing to her. Alison had been a thorn in her side and in the sides of her friends since their first days in Hogwarts and whilst Cass could forgive people who hurt her . . . she found it much more difficult to forgive people who had hurt her husband.

The only reason she had extended the hand of peace to James had been because the one thing Albus had truly regretted about choosing Slytherin House had been that it had cost him his brother. So she was content to be civil to him because it was important to Albus. She knew how spoilt she had been behaving these past few months but she was in her last trimester so her cravings and needs were extremely heightened . . . not to mention her mood swings. Nevertheless, Albus had never complained once, not even when she had woken him at three in the morning to go out and buy her chunky peanut butter and celery sticks.

Alison felt much the same way, she knew that James truly regretting sundering the relationship with his brother so if helping him rebuild that relationship meant she had to stomach an infestation of Malfoys then so be it. The brothers were chatting amicably in the drawing room, discussing the Quidditch League. Albus' team, The Appleby Arrows, were currently coming third in the league whilst James' team, Puddlemere United, on which he played seeker was coming second.

Cassiopeia smiled at them, she knew that for the most part they were making small talk but all the same it was a far cry from the relationship they had had two months ago, when both with just pass another in the street without so much as a civil nod of recognition – though both wives could remember often seeing the spasm of regret and pain etched on their partner's face during such encounters.

"Lovely weather we've been having recently," Alison took a brave stab at conversation, she was after all a Gryffindor.

"Charming," Cassiopeia shrugged, thanking her mother mentally for the year of etiquette lessons she had been given in her youth, they were so important at times like this, "Albus does enjoy the sun."

"James too, He loves to sunbathe," replied Alison, "I try to join him but who has the time to put on sunscreen every hour." Cass looked at her sister-in-law quite sharply, who would have thought they actually had something in common other than being married to Potters.

"Try being as pale as I am," she said after a contemplative pause, "I practically had to bathe in sun block on my honeymoon to keep from burning." Alison laughed politely, unsure of why there appeared to be a strain of genuine amusement in her tone as she replied, speaking of how her freckles made sunbathing impossible. After a while the conversation became easier and both women were soon relatively at less tense with the other's presence.

Which was why Albus and James exchanged bewildered looks when they returned to the living room to see their wives laughing, heads thrown back in mirth, it really was no secret that their wives detested each other and both brothers had been expecting to find them either sitting in either stony silence or trying to murder each other.

Later that day when they had returned to their own home, James turned to his wife and said, "Thank you for trying."

"He's important to you," she shrugged, "Which makes him important to me."

(*)(*)(*)

He led her into the nursery, his hands wrapped across her eyes to maintain the surprise, a smile on his face because he hoped that she would like it. It had taken him a few months longer than he had expected, even with the help of his brother-in-laws, because he had wanted it to be perfect.

"You can look now," he said, dropping his hands to her waist so she could take in the room, her jaw dropping in reverence.

The walls were a pale sky blue, painted with the mural of a bright summer's day, snowy white clouds and a beaming sun –Scorpius had insisted they paint a smiley face on it – a few birds, doves, seemed to fly as they moved along the wall, the paint was magical and allowed the animals to move. A pair of horses trotted across a grassy green hillock, prancing gaudily when they saw that they had guests. Across the ceiling flew a gentle dragon, not moving like the other animals, but vivid and realistic all the same.

The family crib stood to the left of the room, the enchanted wood that had cradled every child in the Black family for near seven generations. A silver lion was traced into the foot of the crib, in her day it had been a maiden, her father often said that it had been a dragon when he was a baby.

Such was the magic of the crib; it changed to reflect its current owner.

There was a rocking chair beside the window, a changing table and a chest of drawers; she could tell how much time and effort her husband had put into this room. There was plenty of other general furniture but it was the time and devotion shown in the walls and the toys that captivated her.

"You did all of this?" asked Cassiopeia in an awestruck voice.

"Well, Scor and Hugo helped," he pointed out, "But I did most of it." He suddenly chuckled, feeling his little man kick out against his mother's stomach, the force being felt in his palm.

"He likes it," murmured Cass, as her husband knelt before her and lifted up her t-shirt so that her belly was bare. He pressed his lips against her stomach, right there above the belly-button, before grinning up at her.

"He knows how much work his daddy put into it," he said, "Don't you?" and she smiled as she felt Leo kick again – perhaps in response to his father's voice – because wasn't that just a memory she would always cherish, her husband grinning with his head bowed, forehead leaning lightly on her stomach as he whispered to their unborn son.

(*)(*)(*)

Delphin knocked softly on the door before stuffing his hands into his pockets, absently aware of the harsh Brazilian sun filling the hallway and the sweltering humidity caused by the nearby rainforests. He looked gaunter than he ever had before, his eyes slightly sunken in their sockets, dull and lacking their usual sparkling lustre. That changed when the door creaked open, an instant smile breaking across his drawn features.

"How did you find me?" asked Rose tiredly, looking as worn as he felt. Her first question to him in months sent a stab through his heart, it was not what he wanted to hear. He had envisioned her throwing herself into his arms and begging him to take her back after leaving him. He had not pictured that she would look so dismayed to see him however.

"I looked," he shrugged, before asking the question that had been burning in his blood since the morning he had woken to find her note.

"Why?"

Rose seemed to struggle for the right words before simply stepping aside and gesturing for him to come in, her face a mask of anguish. He entered, taking her unvoiced invitation and taking a seat in the small living room of the open plan flat. She settled across from him, not looking him in the eyes as she spoke, her voice low and sad.

"It was for the best," she said, "You deserve so much Del and I can't give you any of it. I . . . I hoped you would be sad for a time and then move on and be happy. I wanted you to be happy and not have to give anything up just to make me happy too."

"You're an idiot," was all he had to say. When she finally met his eyes there were tears in her own.

"Because I can't be happy without you," he continued, "I can't function without you, I told you before and I'll tell you again . . . you're the only one for me Rose and I'll never be complete without you."

"Del . . ."

"We each have to write our own stories Rose," he said with a wan smile, "Now come home and let's write ours together."

(*)(*)(*)

Draco and Hermione smiled at each other as they watched Albus hold a tiny emerald green t-shirt, emblazoned with the words '_I Get My Good Looks From My Daddy'_ in silver letters up for Cassiopeia's approval. She grinned at him and nodded as she looked through the selection of baby blankets, the look of pure joy and happiness never leaving her face. Today was the first trip during which the young couple were shopping for their baby's clothing – Cass was currently eight months and two weeks pregnant and whilst they had the necessities already purchased, Hermione had urged them to make their preparation now before they got swamped with childcare.

Two hours later they were exiting Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour; Cass had gotten a sudden craving for double chocolate ice cream and hot fudge which Albus in his zeal had ordered four helpings of. Draco was originally impressed with his apparent devotion, before averting his eyes in amusement when he realised that Cass fed Albus half of whatever she was craving. He didn't begrudge the boy, after having to spend eight months feasting on carrot sticks dipped in peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches with tofu, ice cream and fudge was one of his daughters more appetizing cravings.

It made him realise how deeply devoted the boy was to his daughter and son, because Draco most certainly wouldn't have eaten tofu and marshmallow fluff sandwiches for Astoria or Hermione.

Diagon Alley was almost deserted, it was quite late now and many of the shops were closing. Cass couldn't apparate safely now that she was in her last trimester so the family headed towards the Leaky Cauldron to floo back to the Manor, Albus and Draco both stumbling under the amount of shopping bags they were carrying.

Hermione froze suddenly, reaching for her wand as three men appeared in front of them, a glance over her shoulder showed that another three men were blocking the street behind her. The bags of shopping fell as Albus and Draco drew their wands, holding them out before them, tense and ready for a fight. There was a crack of apparition as a seventh man arrived, dishevelled black hair and emerald green eyes glaring venomously at the family.

"Potter," snapped Draco, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Give us Hermione and we will let you go in peace," said Harry in what appeared to be a benevolent tone, raising his eyebrow as he contemplated them, really he couldn't have chose a better time to go for them. The Minister and the Outcast Leader were there, both of them would spread the tale far and wide that the Loyalists still had power sufficient to take out Hermione Malfoy. He grimaced slightly as his heard stuttered, the pesky bitches life debt taking a toll as he raised his wand against them. Hermione bit her lip, she had been obscure receiving threats for weeks because of the Outcast movement of which she was currently acting as the figurehead – purely to give Albus and Cass their relative anonymity until her pregnancy was over. She had dismissed them, relying on the safety of the manor and the aurors . . . but they weren't in the Manor now.

"You're barking if you think we'll agree to that," snapped Albus stepping protectively in front of Cassiopeia, Hermione moved to the pregnant girls side, Draco standing behind her, forming a triangle of protection around Cass – Hermione may be the target but she was a formidable duellist; Cass on the other hand was vulnerable.

"Then you leave us no choice," muttered Harry, "Take them!"

Jets of red light flashed towards them from all directions, quickly being diverted by shield charms. Albus moved fluidly, wand flashing as he side-stepped curses and hexes, letting fly a dozen in response in the same time it took his opponents to cast three. One, a burly man, fell with a crash, stunned. He hit the second with a _petrificus totalus_ before turning to the third and blinking; Ronald Weasley advanced on him, murder in his eyes. Albus cursed under his breath and he moved to face him, Ron had been Head Auror and whilst he may not be a leader there was no denying he made up for it in pure brutal skill. He had proved that when he had stabbed Rose, nearly to her death, a girl he had raised as his own daughter for nigh on twelve years. The man had not survived the second war for nothing. He was ruthless.

Hermione duelled three on one, effortlessly keeping her three attackers off Cass as she whirled and spun, her curses striking down her opponent's hexes in mid-air. Her brunette curls whipped around her as she stunned two and turned to face the last, Seth Finnigan, more than half her age and yet as vicious as they came.

Draco was duelling Harry, his grey eyes filled with loathing as he spat curses at the black haired man. He was losing ground though, he had a lot of skill but he lacked the raw power that was possessed by Harry – or any of the Potter/Evans bloodline for that matter.

"Expulso," screamed Harry, teeth grinding in fury.

"Protego," snapped Draco quickly, erecting a shield spell in record time.

The jet of orange light ricocheted of the shield, twisting through the air, sailing over Albus' shoulder . . .

and striking Cassiopeia Potter in her swollen belly.

Albus let out a roar of rage, a shockwave of pure energy lashing out from his body, shattering every window in the street and sending their attackers flying through the air, writhing in pain. His eyes began to darken but he shook himself to not lose control, he couldn't lose himself to the darkness now. Through sheer force of will his eyes returned to their usual green though his inner conflict became so much more difficult when he turned to face his wife. The curse that had hit Cass should have sent her crashing backwards, instead she just stood there clutching her stomach, her face the epitaph of horror as her pale blue skirt darkened with the blood pouring from between her legs.

Albus grabbed her as she slumped forward, turning only for a moment to glare at Harry, an expression of pure malice on his face, seemingly darker and more terrifying than Voldemort had ever been. Harry recoiled, a sliver of guilt etched across his hate-filled features as he realised what had happened.

"If anything happens to my wife and son," snarled Albus, his voice deadlier than the most lethal curse, "There will be hell to pay." He apparated them both with a crack to St. Mungo's, he needed to get Cass to the hospital fast . . . there was no time to find a floo.

(*)(*)(*)

"Hugo," sneered Ron as his once supposed son walked into the interrogation room, flanked by two aurors, his blue eyes hard and unyielding as he stood against the stone table.

"Hold him down," said Hugo, not beating around the bush in the slightest. Ron blanched as the two aurors grabbed him and forced him into his chair before one of them slammed his head onto the table, holding him in place as Hugo came up beside them, a tiny vial of colourless liquid in his hands.

"That's against the law," stammered Ron, feeling slightly afraid as he caught sight of the malice in Hugo's eyes, "You can't treat me like this."

"Au Contraire," said Hugo, "That was my pregnant sister you cursed and I am the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. My father is the Minister and my mother was your intended target," he lazily slapped Ron, hard enough to leave a handprint on his cheek – the other was still pressed against the table – "That means I can do whatever the hell I want to you."

He reached out and forced Ron's mouth open before allowing a few drops of Veritaserum down his throat, "Now shut the fuck up and speak when spoken too."

Hugo gestured and the two aurors released Ron, who was still spluttering that he was a war hero and that this was auror brutality, before perching himself on the chair across from Ron.

"The war ended over twenty years ago," pointed out Hugo, "Your status may have gotten you out of your last criminal charge but I assure you it won't happen here . . .Let me point out that my father is just outside this room and I just dropped him some paperwork which if signed allows me to use the cruciatus on you. So I suggest you co-operate before my patience runs out."

Ron bit back the insult that was on the tip of his tongue, the look on his interrogators face made it very clear that he was deathly serious about torturing him.

"Where is Harry Potter?" asked Hugo. Ron bit his lip, not wanting to divulge the information but he felt the truth-serum working on his body and his gritted teeth parted:

"At the Loyalist safe-house in Manchester."

"What is the address?" Hugo said, frustrated that Ron seemed to be being as vague as possible.

"I don't know," snarled Ron.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" frowned Hugo; one couldn't lie under the influence of Veritaserum. Therefore Ron must be telling the truth but then how could he not know?"

"There's a fidelius charm on the property, Harry is the secret keeper."

Hugo closed his eyes in an attempt to control his anger. He flicked his wrist to get one of the auror's, "Go to Kingsley and tell him to send auror teams to Manchester, any Loyalists found are to be killed on sight." Ron stared aghast, as the auror nodded respectfully and took his leave.

The interrogation went on for several hours before Hugo had gleaned every bit of useful information from Ronald Weasley. When he was done he stood and walked to the door.

"What about me?" bellowed Ron, "I co-operated now release me!"

Hugo chuckled dryly, "You are going to Azkaban," and Ron paled till his skin was white as bone, "To one of the Black Cells." Ron's eyes widened in horror, the Black Cells hadn't been used in over a hundred years, not even convicted death eaters had been thrown into them – they were subterranean, rough caverns hewn beneath the actual prison and they held creatures of darkness and fell enchantments that were worse than the dementors could ever be. And what was worse was that the dementors used those caverns for their breeding.

"I hope you enjoy your trip to the prison Mr. Weasley," said Hugo in a cold voice, "Because I assure you that once you're in your cell you're never going to see the sun again."

(*)(*)(*)

Her hair is wild and so is his, for neither of them have slept in days, his eyes shot with veins of red, her eyes stained with tears not yet shed. Her hands shiver in the night, reaching for her tea, long since turned icy cold in the light uncast by the dark of the moon.

She feels him reach out and clasp her shaking wrists, pulling them to her sides as he kisses her on her cheek and tells her it will all be ok, even if he doesn't believe it.

But she shivers and she cries, not caring for her husband's words in the slightest as Draco holds her; his grief hers and her sorrow his – because the light had been devoured in the stillness of that harsh night.

So Hermione trembled as she whispered, staring at the stars, whose names were now her family; the dragon, the scorpion, the queen and now the lion cub; and her voice flittered through the deserted corridor of the hospital like the breath of a broken angel.

"Is this the price of our sins?"

(*)(*)(*)

Reading that final message across the ethereal marble slab made his heart bleed, shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces, each broken, mutilated shard too tiny for him to pick up and put back together. He was broken, destroyed more than he had ever been in his life. His knelt reverently beside the tiny grave, his arm wrapped comforting around his wife's waist. Cassiopeia hadn't stopped crying since that night in the hospital, a week ago, she had been discharged two days previously and Al had been forced to slip potions of _dreamless sleep_ into her tea just so that she would be able to get a few of hours of escape from the anguish. He had no such escape.

"_We tried our hardest Albus, but Cass suffered great stress to her womb. The curse caused her uterine lining to implode, her amniotic membrane broke prematurely and she suffered great duress to her spine. I'm sorry to say that your son didn't make it. I am very sorry for your loss." He wasn't paying attention to what Victoire, no, to what Healer Lupin was saying to him, he wasn't paying attention to Hermione breaking down in Draco's arms. He didn't even comprehend his own mother, Ginny, who had arrived as soon as word had reached her, sink into a chair and emit a bloodcurdling cry of grief._

_All he could focus on were the words . . ._

"_Your son didn't make it."_

Not many people came to the funeral. Not many people had been invited.

_His son, his baby._

_His stillborn son. That was the word they used for it, stillborn . . . born without a heartbeat . . . born dead. _

_Leo Potter . . . Leo Albus Potter . . . His stillborn son._

Cass hadn't wanted anyone to be here, aside from Albus, her parents and herself but Draco had convinced her to allow her family and friends to attend and offer their support . . . "What good will their support do,_"_ she had responded bitterly, but she had allowed it nonetheless. Truth be told, Albus felt she just didn't have it in her to argue the point.

"_Didn't make it . . ."_

_Gone . . . _

_Gone . . . For Good._

_Dead._

They knelt with their backs to their family, grieving on their own . . . both weeping, Cass into Albus' shoulders; Albus into the silky black veil she had worn over her hair. Scorpius stood just behind Albus, a comforting hand on his shoulder, his own tears falling like rain upon the freshly dug earth. Hermione cried into Draco's embrace, the Malfoy patriarch seeming to have aged thirty years in the span of a single week. Behind them stood the rest of the family; Ginny sobbing into a lacy white handkerchief. Rose and Delphin were there, her face stained with her grief as she held her boyfriend, him just shaking his head as if he would wake up and realise it was all a nightmare.

"_How come he can see her and I can't?" asked Scorpius angrily as he paced the waiting room, "She's my sister!"_

"_I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy," said Healer Lupin, "But he's her husband and he is the . . ." the tears were falling down her cheeks as she fell silent. As Teddy, who had received his wife's patronus and hastily dropped of little Remy with Bill and Fleur before apparating to the hospital, took Victoire into his lap and stroked her hair, his hair an ashen grey Albus understood what she had been trying to say. _

"_Father . . ." he choked on his grief, brokenly swallowing his tears, "I'm the father." _

Xavier was grim faced, a protective arm wrapped around Kat's pregnant stomach, she was crying as well – it was what truly conveyed the sorrow they all felt, that the tough as nails Katherine Nott would weep. Hugo wasn't there; he was at the Ministry organizing a full scale search for Harry and campaigning for him to be given the Dementor's Kiss. Somehow, Albus found this more comforting and gratifying than all the rest of their efforts put together. Hugo was actually trying to accomplish something for him, the rest where just wallowing in the misery that was rightfully only his and his wife's. They were intruding on his grief, his grief for the son he would never know.

_Before he knew it, before his mind could process what he was doing, he had flung the chair across the room, feeling a little satisfaction when the wall cracked and the chair broke. The little amount of satisfaction wasn't enough, it had too little effect on his mind, he needed more. He curled his hands into fists and pummelled the wall, not stopping even when his knuckles begged and flecks of his blood began to dot the pristine white wall. _

"_FUCK IT!" he screamed, frustration, anger, sorrow, grief, all echoing through his tone. _

"_Albus," he heard Hermione gasp as she came into the otherwise deserted waiting room, closely followed by Draco, Teddy and Ginny. He didn't stop, he just kept slamming his fists into the wall, tears falling down his cheeks as he yelled and swore and broke his fists against the stone walls. Until he felt somebody grab his wrists and pull them aside. He turned, determined to sock the person who had tried to stop him, freezing in mid-swing as he saw who it was. _

_James. . ._

_He couldn't punch James . . . No matter how much he wanted too. . ._

_He couldn't hurt James_

_He let the anguished cry escape his lips, not caring who was watching as he sank forwards, grateful for his big brother holding him as they sank to the floor together. James didn't move his arms once as Albus screamed and cried and begged, his brother just held him close . . ._

"_IT HURTS! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP JAMIE! KILL ME, LET ME DIE AND LET LEO LIVE! PLEASE JAMIE! I DON'T WANT TO LIVE IF HE'S DEAD! PLEASE KILL ME AND BRING HIM BACK! PLEASE LET ME TRADE PLACES WITH HIM! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!"_

The gravestone was white as the clouds, pure marble, simple and elegant, etched with the final quote.

Leo Albus Potter

Born Amongst the Angels

His perfect baby boy. . .

"_Please take me instead . . ."_


	19. Chapter 18

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Beauty and the Beast**

Cassiopeia had lived in the Manor her entire life and it had never been as silent as it was today; perhaps she was just imagining the unnatural stillness, the tense quiet that enveloped the property. It wasn't as if she knew what was actually happening in the Manor as she had been here since before the dawn, kneeling amidst Narcissa's roses. Even their sweet scent seemed tinted with sorrow.

They say Narcissa Malfoy had grown these gardens in her grief for the husband she had lost . . . perhaps it would be fitting that her granddaughter waters the roses with her tears.

Cass couldn't even breathe without feeling numb to the world. It was so absurd, she had never even known her son and yet she loved him so completely, so truly. How could she hurt so badly because of someone she had never known?

Because she had carried him for near nine months, she had felt him kick and shift and swim within her womb. She hurt because she had been his mother. She stared listlessly at the white roses, so pure and innocent to the world.

She should lay them on his grave.

"I brought you lunch," came a soft voice from behind her. Cass barely acknowledged Rose's presence, let alone the plate of sandwiches her sister was holding. She didn't want to eat, everything she did turned to ash in her mouth, the same way her happiness had turned to dust. Rose sighed and sat beside her sister, wrapping an arm around her as she broke into a fresh wave of sobs. Tears ran down her face, dripping onto her blouse and all Cass could think about was how soon would it be before her tears ran out.

"Did it get better Rose," she asked hoarsely, her throat raw from crying for so very long. Rose knew what she meant in an instant, she too had lost a child – even if the circumstances weren't the same. Honestly Rose had been more pained that she could never have children in the future than she had been to lose the foetus. She attributed it to still being seventeen and not ready for children but Cassiopeia had been, she had fallen in love with Leo from the day she had found out she was pregnant.

"No," admitted Rose quietly, "It gets easier with time but it never goes away. You'll learn to move past it but the pain will always be there. Cass sighed shakily, her tears finally seeming to ebb.

"You need to go to Albus," said Rose quietly when Cass seemed to have calmed down completely.

"I have no idea what to say to him Rose," she said, her eyes red and bloodshot, "I have no idea how to apologise for killing our son."

"Don't you ever say that," snapped Rose, her face softening as the younger girl flinched, "It is not your fault and it is not his fault. If you two start blaming yourselves or each other it will tear you both apart."

"And if that's what you're thinking then the chances are he's thinking the exact same thing. He's the only one who feels the same things you are feeling now. Cass you need each other now more than ever."

Cassiopeia sighed again, her tone tired and drawn but she stood nonetheless and in a crack of apparition she was gone, using the connection that existed between their marks to go to his side.

(*)(*)(*)

Hermione closed her eyes to blink away her tears as she came up to stand behind her husband, who had held himself in stony silence since the funeral. She placed a hand on his shoulder, flinching when he roughly shook it off and growled angrily at her.

"Draco," she said his name like a prayer, hoping she would get through his emotional shields, the walls he seemed to have erected around himself since the attack.

"What," he snapped at her in a biting tone, "Let me be, woman!" His cheeks and chin were covered in thick stubble, he hadn't been shaving. There was a lilt of alcohol permeating the air, seeming to float from his clothing.

"Draco please," she wrapped her arms around him from behind, holding on tightly as he tried to pry her off, "Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say Hermione?" he yelled, "Do you want me to admit that I killed my grandchild?" There was silence; Hermione recoiled as his words sank in, his voice heavy with self-loathing. For his part, Draco had a haunted look in his eyes; he seemed to have aged twenty years in a single week.

Yes he had cast the shield charm, causing the curse to ricochet and strike his daughter. But it had been Harry who cast the curse.

"Why would you even think that?" she asked, even though she had blamed herself as well. Harry had come for her and the boys had raised their wands rather than surrender her to the Loyalists. If she had just gone with them then maybe Leo would still be alive in his mother's womb. If she hadn't insisted they go to Diagon Alley that day to do their last minute baby shopping then they wouldn't have been attacked at all.

But she had never thought that Draco blamed himself too.

But it wasn't either of their faults. It was the fault of the madman who had once been their saviour.

(*)(*)(*)

Hugo paced his study, clenching his fists as he cursed the day Rita Skeeter had ever been born. That miserable journalist had recently written a scathing article about the authorisation of the use of the unforgivable curses against the Loyalists. The public outcry had been massive, even though the Boy-Who-Lived was now one of the most hated men in Britain; many felt that he should merely be taken to Azkaban, after all how could they kill a man who had saved them from Voldemort.

When would they realise that Voldemort had been dead for over twenty years and in that time Harry had caused more pain than he had ever healed? Obviously they never would, it had however helped their case once word of Leo's fate had been spread – it had previously been kept under wraps by only those who needed to know – the public had once again changed their mind.

They were like sheep, mused Hugo, fickle and senseless.

Then again, there was nothing like the death of an innocent child that could give the people a symbol behind which they could rally. Harry's name was now worth less than dragonshit, most of the Loyalists were either dead or being thrown into the Black Cells beside Ron but what was eating at Hugo's mind was that Harry was still out there.

And Hugo knew now that no life debt would keep him away, he had somehow survived attacking the Malfoy family – Hugo assumed that Harry was using the old trick of using magic to keep his heart beating – he knew that the only way that this would end was in blood.

And Hugo was tired of seeing his siblings lose their children because of that man. Like as not; Rose, Scorpius and now Cassiopeia had all lost their children in some way or another thanks to Harry or Ron. There was also a burning need in his soul to throw Harry into Azkaban where he could do no harm, or better yet kill him and be done with it. This was based on the fear that when the time came for him and Francesca to have children he too would lose his firstborn.

He refused to let that happen.

He would not give Harry the joy of a clean death. He wanted the man to have to suffer and the only way to make sure would be the Black Cells of Azkaban; Ron Weasley had only been there for a week and already the prison guards had informed him that he was half-insane, spending his days lost in the torment of his worst memories.

If Hugo recalled correctly, the man often spent his days pleading for forgiveness to his late brother Fred Weasley and his niece Molly; what a shame.

Because Ron Weasley did not deserve forgiveness and Hugo would make sure that he was not granted mercy.

(*)(*)(*)

His trainers thudded rhythmically against the forest floor, sweat beading on his brow, his muscles screaming for rest as he ran, ploughing on through this deserted wilderness he had, in his need to escape, apparated to.

He didn't know how long he had been running, how long he had been pushing himself to breaking point, all he knew was that he couldn't stop. If he did, the physical exertion would cease and then he would feel the pain all over again. The pain of losing Leo.

The sun was setting, twilight tinting the sky in rosy hues of lavender and gold. Odd that, when he had first taken of the sky had been the same colour, flavoured with the dawn. The low howl of an animal, maybe a dog, maybe a wolf, low and mournful filled the air. His heart beat painfully fast, not so from the running, but from the straining darkness within. The darkness which fought against the psychic walls first put in place by Hermione and Draco, his uncontrollable emotions of grief and anger and hate welling within him and lending the Darkness power. The sane part of his mind fought against it, knowing from Bella's warning that should he succumb he would not be able to control himself. But the rest of him screamed to let the darkness out, to let it take control and avenge his suffering, to revenge itself against Harry and the Order.

He tensed, needing a release. Then he slammed his fist against the rough hewn bark of the tall oak beside his path, fuelling his physical strength with his magic and a trace of darkness, drawing on the vestiges that had so far escaped the bonds entrapping the entirety of his shadows. The wards were stretched taut; he was consciously pulling on them now, attempting to draw on his dark energy to fuel his power.

The bark splintered, a large chunk of the tree smashed to smithereens by the force of his blow, he didn't even feel the pain in his scraped knuckles, the rawness as he struck the tree again and again till his hands were bloody and the tree lay in ruins. Turning, his emerald eyes beginning to darken with black magic, he launched himself onto another, tearing down branches and pummelling the trunk.

A stag bounded away in fear, startled and afraid by the noise. Albus' eyes widened in a sick glee as he saw the animal and sprinted towards it, grabbing it by its antlers and pulling. In a gout of blood and brain fluid, he tore them from the creature, causing it to slump dead to the ground. His eyes jet black, the whites no longer visible, he clawed at the carcass, shredding the flesh with his bare hands.

He had become the darkness within, though the wards still held waveringly strong, he was the beast, mindless and feral and he destroyed all around him.

Life, he sensed it and turned to face it, his eyes gleaming hungrily, his lips twisted into a bloody sneer. She was standing there, sleek platinum hair falling to her back, shrouded by a silky black veil – the one she had been wearing since the funeral – her eyes shining wetly, wide orbs of mercurial silver. Something told him she was not to be harmed; the darkness overruled that small flicker of consciousness as he tore forward, his torn and bloodied clothing whipping around him like the ragged edges of his soul.

"Albus," she said it softly, her voice stating that she was not afraid of him, she should be. She should be very afraid. He was the beast and she was prey. But her voice sounded a chord in him, and suddenly, instantly, he felt her music reverberate through him, forcing the darkness back to the very bottom of his heart. It lay there trembling, desperate to be free once more but her presence kept it down.

She was after all, his humanity.

Cassiopeia.

He dropped to his knees before her, staring at her through eyes of emerald, filled with horror and anguish, not caring to look upon his own mangled hands.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, a broken boy upon the forest floor, the forest that for an acre around them was now a barren wasteland. The moon shone tenderly over the two of them, lighting her hair and making her seem a goddess amongst mortals.

"Please Albus," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she knelt beside him and took him in her arms, he wrapped his own around her, not caring that the fabric of her clothing was pure torture against the shredded skin on his hands, "I can't lose you too Al."

"I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry," he cried softly into her ears, and she was crying things too, whispering things he didn't hear because he was too lost in his own exodus.

He saw his blood staining her shirt and hair, blurred beneath his tears. He felt the wetness on his cheek and shoulder that proved how tangible her anguish was, that there was another who shared his pain and that he was not alone.

They stayed like that the rest of the night, holding onto each other in the midst of the desecration.

Grieving for their child.

(*)(*)(*)

_A/N: Thoughts?_

_This story is wrapping up for a close soon dear readers, but I would like to announce that there will be a sequel (actually book 2 of a planned 4 part series set in this AU) titled "Call Me Home." It's the story that I'm sure you've been waiting for – The Scorpius/Lily story of The Good Son Series._

_Please note that each book will not be a stand-alone but rather they will carry on the story line, which will only really end at the end of Book 4 (which I only have the skeleton draft of done so far)._

_This is the biggest project in terms of writing that I have ever undertaken and I hope I keep counting on you my dear readers for support._


	20. Chapter 19

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Sins of the Father**

Cassiopeia walked into her father's study with a weary expression on her face, clearing her throat to subtly catch his attention as she took a seat. He looked up, noting the drawn look on her face and sighed, was it truly too much for a father to ask that his daughter would smile again.

"What's wrong?" he asked and it was that alone that reminded Cass why she loved her father so dearly. Why she had always depended on him, the man who had raised her, who had always been there, sometimes irascible and slightly inflexible but always present. It reminded her that he would not always be there for her but that was a thought for another day. She couldn't afford any more stress right now.

She just needed her daddy.

Because he never beat around the bush when he saw something wrong with his children, he always got right to the point and once he discovered their problem he always had an answer to allay their fears.

"It's Albus," she sighed, "The wards have become too weak. He lost control so badly the other day. I can't reinforce them any more without killing him . . . I'm scared dad, I can't lose him too."

Draco gave off a low moan of despair, he was well aware that after single every one of Albus' _incidents_ the wards were worn down but he had never expected them to have faded so deeply, not during his son-in-law's lifespan at any rate. Cass trembled at her father's dismay, he was supposed to have the answer not diminish her already fleeting hope.

"How bad was it?" he asked through pursed lips.

"He destroyed an entire acre of forestland with his bare hands," she whispered, as if speaking some dark secret that should never see the light of day. Draco gave a low whistle and for the first time in his life he actually looked his age – a man in his early fifties.

_When did the platinum start fading to grey?_

"I don't know Cassie," he said in a strained voice when he took in her questioning look, "He's so powerful, I don't know what to do." Her heart sank, breaking ever so slightly at his words.

"Is there nothing we can do?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"Hermione and I will do everything in our power to find a way to strengthen the seals without hurting him. I love him like a son, Cass. I promise I'll find a way to help him, you just need to make sure he doesn't lose control again till we have a solution."

"I can do that," she said, a spark of hope taking root in her.

_I lost Leo, Albus . . . I am not losing you as well._

(*)(*)(*)

Kat let out a low scream of pain, followed by a quick gasping breath as she dug her nails into Xavier's arm. It killed him, that she was in so much pain and he could do nothing to alleviate her hurt – then again, he reasoned, it had been her decision not to use an epidural.

It had been in the early hours of the morning that her water had broken and he had quite embarrassingly lost his head and panicked. It had taken a sharp slap from his fiancé to calm him down sufficiently so he could floo them both to St. Mungo's. It wasn't his fault though, when the woman you love calmly wakes you up and announces that she is about to pop out a baby then one is entitled to succumb to panic.

It would seem that one is not entitled to running around in one's boxers whilst trying to shrink a baby's crib to take with them to the hospital.

Still he was excited, if slightly apprehensive, about his child's welfare especially considering that he had watched his close friends lose two children already.

Another scream pulsed through the ammonia and antiseptic which flavoured the air drawing him away from his musings as she painfully dug her talons into his wrist hard enough to draw blood. Outside he could hear his future in-laws (whom he "lovingly" referred to as Adolf and Eva because for some reason they didn't like him) pacing the corridor whilst his own mother seemed to be gently tapping her foot upon the ground. His father as usual wasn't present – not that that surprised him; he had long since realised that his dad wasn't much of the fatherly type – although he had hoped that his dad would show up for the birth of his first grandchild. At least his father supported him, however distantly, and wasn't like Albus' father.

"We're almost there Kat," he said soothingly as her black-varnished nails ran red with his blood. Merlin she had a grip. This was said to be the greatest physical pain known to man and though he highly doubted this fact he made sure never to mention it when there were any women present.

"WE?" she shrieked, "I DO NOT SEE YOU PUSHING OUT YOUR SPAWN!" The midwife chuckled, balking slightly at his glare before reassuring the couple that their boy was almost there.

"Our boy is almost here Kat," he murmured reassuringly, knowing she was slightly irrational at present and not letting it faze him.

"Well hurry up and GET HIM OUT," she screamed, stifling a second shriek as she gave one last push and the sound of an infant crying filled the room. She slumped back into her pillows, sweat beading her brow as exhaustion replaced the pain that had creased her face.

Xavier could only beam as his newborn son was placed in his arms for the very first time.

"Matthew," he murmured softly, "Our boy." Kat managed a light smile as she clasped his arm, her eyes tearing at the sight.

"Matthew Xavier Avery," she agreed, her heart welling with love as she noticed that he had his father's eyes.

(*)(*)(*)

"As one life ends, another begins," said James to himself as he stared out the window, taking in the pouring rain. It had been exactly a year since his brother had lost his son and though he wanted to be there for Albus more than anything; he knew that today was a day that Al would rather spend with just his wife.

It was ironic that today was also the day he found out that Alison was pregnant with their first child. The first anniversary of his nephews death would forever mark the day he had been told he was to be a father. He should be thrilled that his wife was expecting a child but on this day all he could think of was the one his brother had lost.

It hadn't been Alison's fault that she told him today, she had forgotten the significance of the date in her own glee at having seen the tiny pink plus sign on the little white stick. Her smile had faded the second she saw the hollowness in his hazel eyes, when she saw the toy in his hand and realised what she had done.

She had marred the news of her pregnancy with James' hate for his father, the father who he would dearly love to Avada. Because his father had broken Albus, meaning that he had hurt James by extension.

He fingered the battered lion in his hands and sighed again, the toy that had been owned by each of the three brothers and had been left on the floor of Albus' old bedroom when he left their childhood home, the stuffed toy that Remy had played with before it had once more been given to James – this time so that he could present it to Leo on the day he was born.

The day that had never came.

If he had a son then the toy would go to him . . . but James just wanted to fling it away. It had once been a symbol of brotherhood and love.

Now it was an icon of loss, the loss of first his brother and now his nephew.

(*)(*)(*)

A year had gone by since her son had passed and whilst her relationship with Albus had weathered the storm the physical aspect of their marriage had waned considerably. It wasn't her fault, nor was it his, it was because they both were afraid of what followed their lovemaking. Their wounds had both been too raw for them to consider it; it felt too much like they were trying to make a replace Leo with another child. Even if she was on her contraceptive potion it still felt as though they were betraying his memory.

She remembered the day she had visited Kat in the hospital and had felt like bursting into tears as she watched her friend breastfeed her newborn. It had hurt so much but she had been strong, and if her lip had trembled slightly or her hands had shaken as she brushed her fingers over Matthew's tiny fist then Kat didn't acknowledge it. She was grateful for it, she didn't want to be pitied – she just wanted her child back.

Before that day she had never truly known envy but seeing the mother and son had enlightened her as to what jealousy felt like.

She was still very unsure about this latest enterprise, having been coaxed into pulling this stunt by Rose, Francesca and Kat. All three girls had been scandalised to learn that although Cass and Albus had finished each other off sexually in other ways the couple hadn't actually made love since her miscarriage. So Rose had come up with the brilliant (Cass had several other choice words for it) plan to "kick-start" their love life again. The only reason she had even been swayed was that Francesca had pointed out that it wasn't disrespectful to Leo for his parents to sleep together. What was disrespectful was for them to deny him the opportunity to watch out for any potential siblings he may one day have. It was moments like that when she was thankful for Hugo being engaged to a Healer who specialised in psychotherapy.

Her husband's secretary was absent from her desk, which wasn't at all surprising considering it was lunchtime. Walking past the organized desk and filing cabinet she reached out to open the door to Albus' office. She stepped back warily as the door opened first bringing her face to face with Delphin Zabini.

"Hey Cass," he said, before his eyes widened at the long coat she was wearing, "Isn't it a bit hot out for a coat?"

"I'm feeling a chill," she said, though in truth the coat was quite stifling in the heat. Though she couldn't really take it off considering the clothing, or lack thereof, that she had on underneath. Then she froze, noticing that he was still staring at her and she flushed as she remembered that he probably recognized her attire. She had after all, borrowed this coat from Rose.

Delphin waggled his eyebrows suggestively, "Why Mrs. Potter," he said with a smirk, "I didn't know you had it in you."

"Shut up Delphin," she replied, forcing herself to smile so as to hide her blush as he took his leave. No doubt he and Rose would be having a good laugh tonight when he got home. Despite Rose having given up curse-breaking since returning home and was now teaching at Hogwarts, she did not live at the castle. Instead she floo'ed there every morning and returned to her and Delphin's apartment every night.

Cassiopeia entered the office, breathing a sigh of relief when she noted that her husband had no other visitors. Using her wand she magically locked and barred his door and sealed his personal floo before turning to face him, a light grin on her face as she took in his raised eyebrow. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could do so, she let the coat fall to the ground and stepped forward. Her grin changed to a smirk when his eyes widened and darkened, not with his Shadows but with lust.

She had after all had her outfit chosen with particular care.

The skimpy green and silver lingerie set would never have been her first choice but Rose had assured her that all men had a fetish for their house colours. She hadn't believed it until Kat, Francesca and Hermione had all agreed. The latter's admission had caused her to shudder, there were some things a daughter did not need to know.

"Hey," she whispered in what she hoped was a sultry voice; the art of seduction had always eluded her because it had always just seemed natural with Albus in the past.

"Hey," he managed to respond, his mouth dry as she straddled his hips.

It wasn't until later, when the two of them were putting his desk to good use that she realised how much she had missed losing herself under her husband's loving, slightly rough – just how they both liked it - touch.

(*)(*)(*)

"Harry that is sick," said Percy in revulsion. His stomach roiled at the idea his former brother-in-law had just put forward, it was despicable, even to him. He glanced nervously at the clock, it was a quarter to ten . . . fifteen minutes now.

"We need a way to get close enough to end his reign of tyranny," pointed out Harry in that same grimly determined voice. A spasm of pain crossed his face, his heart was pumping on nought but magic now – without a steady stream of energy to keep it beating he would be dead in minutes. Cassiopeia's life debt had exacted its full toll on him when he had accidently caused her to miscarry.

"But this is not the answer," said Dennis Creevy, Seth Finnigan nodded in agreement. "If we do this then we become worse than the enemy Mr. Potter," pointed out the Irish youth, worrying his lip with his teeth in anxiety.

"It is the only answer," snapped Harry. Their world was in ruins already, it needed to be saved . . . by any means necessary.

"Harry, this is madness," said Percy, trying to calm his friend, "its pure evil." Twelve minutes left. Tick Tock Tick Tock, the hands of the clock seemed to be moving slower and slower and a soft sheen of sweat broke across Percy's shoulder.

He missed Audrey and Lucy, he hadn't seen either of them in months and he just wanted the nightmare to be over. He had signed up to the Loyalist movement to gain revenge for the death of his daughter but when revenge had come it had left nothing but bitterness to his wounds. Albus and Cassiopeia had not been the cause of his daughter's death; that crime lay at the feet of Sophia Williams – who had not been seen since the day his daughter had been poisoned.

No parent should have to lose a child and it sickened him that the Loyalists seemed to revel in the grief they had caused to the Outcast leaders, the Slytherin Potter and his Malfoy Princess. Harry had seemed repentant the day of the attack to be sure but then Percy had caught the man staring at his scars –the scars he claimed had been caused by Bellatrix Lestrange, not that Percy believed him – and after that he seemed remorseless.

_For the Greater Good,_ he had said, but this didn't feel good. It felt like cold blooded murder. Which was why Percy had now done what he had in the hopes of atoning for his mistakes, he needed to seek redemption now that he saw beneath the propaganda of the Loyalists.

Ten minutes till the stroke of eleven.

"Surely there are other ways," said Seth Finnigan, his expressionless voice masking his own personal conflict. He was all for the downfall of the Outcasts but he was to this day haunted by the sight of the blood staining Cassiopeia Potter's skirts as her child died within her.

No matter his vendettas and prejudice, Seth still had a heart and it bled for the sake of the child his prejudice had slain. But he was in too deep now, he already would be condemned to the Black Cells of Azkaban if caught or worse, killed on sight for fighting behind Harry's banners. This was the only course of action left to him.

Harry gnashed his teeth at their naivety, how else with they save their world? Malfoy Holdings now controlled half of the commercial ventures in the country; they were the controlling force of almost every industry. Under Draco and Hugo, legislature had been changed giving the Slytherins more power than ever. Rose, who now thought _Ancient Runes_ at Hogwarts was now the deputy-headmistress; once Minerva eventually retired The Outcasts would have full control over the youth.

Why did nobody but him understand that the time for fighting nobly, the time of using hostages and giving ultimatums was long since gone? They needed to remove the head of the snake and his plan was the only way they would get near enough to Albus to take him out. The boy was too powerful to be killed in a head on fight. The fact that the Outcast government had branded him and his Loyalists as fugitives did not make their mission any easier either.

"You won't be able to pull it off anyway," said Seth as he tried to dissuade their leader, "You need the hair of the person you want to change into."

"I have the hair," shrugged Harry, reaching into his coat pocket and extracting a small pouch. Reaching in he pulled out a few strands of platinum blonde hair, brittle and aged.

"You didn't," Percy was in disbelief, his eyes wide, "Tell me you didn't, Harry."

Now Percy knew he had made the right choice. Five minutes left.

"I did," said Harry in a voice laced with power. If he closed his eyes he could still remember breaching the wards in the dead of night and shovelling the soil aside to recover his perverse bounty. Some would call it sickening and deplorable . . . he called it their last resort. He grunted suddenly as his heart gave another tremulous contraction as it failed for a second before being re-started by his magic. Gasping, he glared at his followers.

"It must be done . . . for the greater good."

The clock struck eleven and suddenly Harry tensed, feeling the wards around his home come crashing down, the fidelius charm sundered from within. He snarled, glancing around the room as he sensed the aurors charging towards the cottage from all sides. Seth seemed unknowing; Dennis was glancing from side to side as if catching on that something was not right.

A blasting curse struck the front door, it held barely under Harry's magical reinforcements as he sought out the betrayer. Chancing a look out the window his heart plummeted. It would appear that every auror in the department was besieging his headquarters.

"Harry Potter," the deep booming voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt echoed through the suburb, "We have the place surrounded, come out with your hands in the air!"

Now there was fear in the room as the Loyalists tried to apparate and failed, the aurors having already placed anti-apparition wards on the home. Cursing under his breath, he yanked the invisibility cloak over himself and vanished. Taking the stairs two at a time as he made for his room upstairs where he had his broomstick kept, he pointed his wand at Seth and hit the boy with an _Obliviate_. It wouldn't do for the aurors to learn of his plans and from what he could see Dennis had already been taken down by a killing curse. He tried seeking out Percy as he ran and failed; cursing vehemently he dashed into his bedroom and grabbed his broom, planning to make an invisible escape. Yes, his followers would be caught and prosecuted; no doubt some would be killed.

But the only way to win a game of chess was to sacrifice a few pawns. It still left Harry feeling uneasy, he was but one piece left on his side of the board. Albus had a veritable army against him.

"Going somewhere Harry?" asked Percy Weasley as the eldest Potter threw open the window, his hands sticking out from beneath the cloak. Harry glared menacingly at the Weasley who held his wand aloft, pointed at the spot where he knew Harry stood.

"You called the aurors," stated Harry coldly, "I should have known. You betrayed us in the last war as well."

"I did," replied Percy, ignoring the job against his actions during the second war, "But this is not a war Harry. This is a misguided vendetta that needs to be ended." A spark of red hissed on the tip of his wand, ready to stun.

"Oh it will end alright," said Harry and before Percy could act Harry slashed his wand through the air.

The jet of green light struck the bespectacled Weasley in the chest, draining the life from his body the moment it made contact. As he fell all he could think of was how he would never see his girls again.

(*)(*)(*)

"We've rounded up the Loyalists," said Kingsley with a weary sigh, a weight of his chest now that the trouble-making organisation had finally been quelled, "But unfortunately our informant was killed."

Hugo gnashed his teeth, Percy Weasley may have been his least favourite uncle at one point in his life but he did have fond memories of the man. The fact that he had joined Harry Potter's cause had been understandable considering the fate of his daughter. The way Kingsley seemed to speak about his fate however seemed to imply that he hadn't been killed by their side.

"Who killed him?" asked Hugo pointedly.

"Harry," responded Kingsley with a strain of sadness in his voice. Harry Potter had once been a trusted friend of the former Minister and it still hurt that the man had fallen so far.

"Why am I not surprised?" asked Hugo humourlessly, "I assume he is on his way to the Black Cells as we speak?"

"No," answered Kingsley, "He escaped. Interrogations have yielded that he was in a meeting with Percy, Dennis Creevey and Seth Finnigan at the time. Unfortunately Creevey was killed when we took their headquarters and Potter seemed to have cast a memory charm on the boy."

Hugo spoke through gritted teeth, the anger in his voice barely contained, "See what you can do to break the charm, I want Potter found and arrested before he can cause any more trouble."

The rest of the meeting passed smoothly, though Hugo noted with grim satisfaction that all was drawing to a close.

(*)(*)(*)

Albus laughed lightly at his brother-in-laws joke, his arm around his wife as the small party sat around the soft blue cotton of their picnic blanket. Hermione and Draco had left to take a short walk around the scenic countryside, today was Cassiopeia's birthday and the entire family had decided to have a day out to celebrate rather than a stuffy indoor party. They had just enjoyed lunch, Rose and Delphin had disappeared to the nearby lake to go for a swim whilst Hugo had been unable to attend; he was currently on his honeymoon, having finally married Francesca. The wedding had been small, nobody was in much of a mood to celebrate – the Manor still swam with the sorrow of losing Leo Potter, Albus had felt guilty that his brother-in-law hadn't been able to throw a huge wedding because of the family's sadness. But Hugo and his bride had both assured him that neither wanted a big event in any case and that they would have preferred to elope but Hermione and Mrs. Montague had forbidden it. It had been eighteen months since his son had died and whilst the pain was fading, if only slightly, it was still an ever present part of his life.

There was a rustling in the nearby rose bushes and Albus was on his feet in an instant, his wand drawn and pointed at the noise. Cass and Scorpius were close behind him, their wands held warily as they surveyed the area for the source of the disturbance. One could never be too careful these days; especially since Harry was still out there. Even without the Loyalists at his back the oldest Potter still posed a significant threat to the family. Cass had been especially wary of coming out without protection today since she had just discovered that she was finally pregnant a second time. She was planning on telling Albus tonight when they _celebrated_ her birthday beneath the sheets of their bed. Yes perhaps they still grieved, they would always grieve, but her friends had all reminded her that she and Al couldn't just stop living their lives.

The bush rustled again as a tiny hand appeared from behind it, closely followed by the body of a child, toddling towards them, not more than one-and-a-half years old. Albus' eyes widened, he was dimly aware of Cass letting out a strangled sob before dropping to her knees beside him and of Scorpius grabbing him as he too fell in shock.

The boy had platinum blonde hair, the exact same shade as his mother, yet it was as dishevelled as his fathers. Almond shaped eyes glimmered emerald green in the sunlight, flecked with Malfoy silver, his pale skin a shade darker than his maternal family. He smiled, a sad smile that had Cassiopeia clawing at her own face, anguished screams escaping her lips as she tugged at her hair. Because those eyes were all it had taken for them both to know whose child that was.

"Daddy . . . It's me," said the little boy, looking at Albus, "It's me, Leo."

Something told him that such a young child should not be able to speak so clearly but he couldn't comprehend something like that right now. Albus was on his knees now, just as his wife was, tears streaming down his face as his own screams of pain echoed across the meadow. His boy, his sweet boy, stood alive before him. The sight brought back all the pain he had felt on the day Leo had died – all the pain he had forced into the bottommost recesses of his heart so that he could survive and go on with his life.

The pain . . . it came back, harder and stronger than it had ever been.

"Why didn't you save me, daddy," Leo asked tearfully, "Didn't you love me?"

"I tried to save you," Albus pleaded, wishing in that moment that he was dead and his son was still alive, wishing that they could have traded places. It hurt, it hurt so badly. Scorpius was shivering, not knowing what to do as he held onto his brother-in-law and sister; it was all he could do to keep them both from running for the child. There was only one thought was resounding through Cassiopeia's mind, the same thought that was echoing through her husband's. . .

_He would have been so beautiful . . ._

"You let me die, daddy," cried the boy accusingly, "You don't love me." Nobody noticed the toddler draw a wand from his back pocket; nobody saw the flash of victory in the emerald eyes. . . But they all saw the streak of green light and the whispered _Avada Kedavra_ . . .

"Protego," cried Hermione, coming up just in time to block the killing curse before it hit Albus, still cradling his wife as the pair huddled broken upon the blanket. "Expelliarmus," she added, sending the toddlers wand spinning through the air; she caught it and froze, she knew who this holly and phoenix feather wand belonged to . . .

Draco acted with a savagery that the family had only seen once before, when his face had been lit by anger after Harry's _Expulso_ curse hit Cassiopeia in the stomach and he punched the illusion of his grandson in the face, splitting the toddlers lip. A second punch slammed into the toddler's stomach and Hermione followed it up by hitting the boy with a revealing charm. Cassiopeia was still screaming, fighting her brother and husband to try and reach what Albus now knew was an illusion of his child. He could feel the darkness trembling against their bonds.

The toddlers skin bubbled as Hermione's charm took effect and the boy seemed to grow drastically, the polyjuice potion wearing off, replaced the Boy-Who-Died with the Boy-Who-Lived.

"You monster," spat Hermione, she had known he had slipped, that he hated anything associated with Slytherin but this . . . this was something so despicable that not even Voldemort would have tried it. Imitating a miscarried child just so that he could kill Albus and try to end the Outcasts . . . Merlin help her, she was disgusted to have once counted him as one of her best friends.

Harry Potter glared at them furiously, rubbing his bruised face, his wand far from his reach in Hermione's grasp.

"You . . ." Albus said, drawing himself to his feet, his eyes full of hate, the emerald green burning an inky black, the Darkness shrouding his entire body with sinful energy. He could feel the wards snapping under the growing pressure; for once not even Cass' presence was enough to dim his rage and grief.

_Let us in . . . _

Albus closed his darkening eyes to try and control the powerful evil energy surging within him, shaking violently as his emotions swirled, lending furious power to the Darkness and breaking the binding runes that held the shadows at bay. A dark Shadow flitted across the green grass from the meadow before tearing herself from the ground and coming to float beside Albus.

Bellatrix cackled in exaltation as her masters own sunlit shadow shuddered and a dozen other Shadows burst free, flitting around him and whispering in his ears.

_So much pain . . . The world is suffering . . . End it all . . ._

Cassie, a broken shell of herself, reached out to help her husband, to try and bring him back to himself. She needed to fight back his darkness, to do what she always had and save him from the Shadows. "Albus," she whimpered his name, a soft plead as she clasped her hand onto his arm.

He roughly pushed her aside, Scorpius catching her before she could fall as he watched his best friend lose control.

"Don't get too close Cass," choked out Albus, "I can't . . . too strong."

_End the suffering that is the mockery of life_. . .

And the truth was made so clear to Albus in that one sentence, life was suffering and to live was pain. The Shadows swarmed from the earth around him like a black cloud, dozens of them rising at his behest and lending him their power. In that moment the Doors of Death seemed to be cast open as he drew them fought from their rest, summoning them to his growing madness. And his consciousness expanded as they merged with his tattered soul so that he could feel the entire world beneath his fingertips. He had always been powerful but now . . . even Merlin and Morgana would quake before him, falling like leaves in a gale.

Everybody suffered. . . He could feel it, he could feel the pain of every parent who had lost a child, every child who had buried a parent, every girl who had been raped, every boy who had been beat up and abused . . . he could feel the pain of every living creature on the planet. He was so magnificently powerful that he was keyed into every spark of energy the world over; every atom was at his fingertips. The darkness called to him, asking him to end the pain, to end his own pain, to end it all.

And Albus Severus Potter listened . . . he let the darkness in. He heard his family scream his name like forgotten whispers on the wind, inconsequential fragments easily forgotten to his feral mind as he turned to face the man who had impersonated his late son.

He extended his arm and clenched his fist; smirking as every bone in his father's body shattered. Leaving the man still alive but in excruciating pain he apparated to the outskirts of where it all began. To where he would stand as he ended it all.

He stood in the deserted street of Hogsmeade, his dark energy pulsing around him, his eyes so black that the whites had vanished as he began the fateful walk to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Above him the sky was darkening as a great storm brewed, beneath his feet the earth seemed to tremble and quake.

A Shadow appeared beside him, so dark and malign that it made Bellatrix seem like a kitten by comparison. But standing alongside the Being that once was Albus, the Shadow seemed weak and docile, a mere imprint of Darkness instead of the sheer depth of the damnation and desecration that welled within the young Potter's tormented core.

"Tom Riddle," acknowledged the Lord of Shadows, he who had once been a man but was now perhaps a deity, "Let us finish this." And Voldemort bowed with grudging respect, for even in his own arrogance and power he recognized a strength that was older and more powerful than he could have ever hoped to be in life.

The Shadow that was once The Dark Lord merged with the Man who had become a God and that day love lost.

And the Darkness won.

(*)(*)(*)

_A/N: Thoughts?_

_Please do remember to leave a review; I am hoping to get to 200 before this story is done._


	21. Chapter 20

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Twenty**

**Cataclysm**

Albus walked with a predatory grace, the grass shrivelling and blackening beneath his feet. Hogwarts loomed before him, magnificent and ancient. It was here that Merlin had stood during his last confrontation with Morgana. It was here that the four founders had raised a school that had stood for a thousand years. And it was here where his pain had begun.

But it was not the history of the school that had led him here; it was the convergence point of magical ley lines upon which it had been built. For magic flowed beneath the bones of the world, hot and untapped, converging only in a few isolated places throughout the globe. This was the source of Europe's magic and to The Lord of Shadows it seemed poetic that it all end where it had once begun.

In the distance he could see tiny silhouettes fleeing before his gathering darkness –Minerva seems to have sounded a full evacuation of the school. He found it amusing that they would run, thinking that distance would save them from his wrath. It was not so, for once he began there would be no safe place left upon this world.

But why did they flee? He was a saviour, sent to end the illusion that was life and the myth that was happiness. They should welcome him with open arms, for he would help them find the bliss of death.

A whisper from another life called out to him as he caught a glimpse of turquoise blue hair, one of Hogwarts professors, in the distance escorting the students to safety and trying to stave off the rampant lightning that struck the ground in a dozen places with his wand. He struggled, fighting to put a name to the wolfish, blue-haired man.

_Terdey Looopeen_. No that wasn't right. Or was it? He couldn't remember anymore, it sounded right and so therefore it was. There was something different about the man though, he was not like the other paltry humans which fled before him. His scent was not quite . . . human, more wolf, more beast than man. He would make fine prey.

But something a faint glimmer in the most forgotten part of his mind whispered:

"_No, not prey . . . brother."_

The Lord of Shadows dismissed the petty voice but continued on towards the castle nonetheless. There would be time to hunt after he had purged the world of suffering, if any of the humans survived that was. So he humoured the voice of the scared little boy within his mind, trapped within the Darkness that he himself had woven and extended his consciousness to the heavens. By his will alone the lightning seemed to ebb away from the turquoise wolf-man, instead striking the earth around him.

Besides, he had only one brother and that brother had dark brown hair and hazel eyes.

The earth trembled as he cast open the doors of the castle, a powerful quake causing stone chips and dust to fall from the high ceiling. There was a yell behind him, a small group or students and aurors standing on the entrance stairs with their wands pointed at him.

_Fools_.

He held his arm out towards them, his fist clenched and he watched them grow taut as his magic washed over them. A wicked grin lit his maniacal face as he smelled the fear, thick and cloying in the Ozone charged air, and then he opened his fist in a single, quick motion. Those who had stood to oppose him burst like flesh-filled balloons of blood and bone that had been pricked by a pin. Blood and gore splashed wetly across the stone steps, the first drops of rain making them run like a river of chunky red. A few drops landed on his lips and he reached out his tongue to lick them, savouring the coppery taste of death as he made his way through the deserted castle.

He reached his destination, the Astronomy Tower, and his Darkness flared. Like a whip it tensed before cracking, pouring from every fibre of his being as it poisoned the ley-lines of the world. The world trembled, harsh fissures opening across the globe as it was tortured. She, the Earth, bled molten fire from her cuts as her blue skies darkened beneath the ever growing storm clouds, the land reeling under constant strikes of lightning. The oceans roiled and rose like in waves of pure destruction, swirling winds descended from the heavens to cut through civilisation like hot knives through butter.

For he was a monster, a beast, a God.

But deep inside, beneath it all, he was just a scared, little boy who had suffered too much.

(*)(*)(*)

"Hermione?" called Ginny as she apparated directly into the Manor, James and Alison following close after; baby Trystane in her daughter-in-law's hands. He was just a month old, having been born a month premature and had inherited his father's dark near-black hair and his mother's pale green eyes. The family of four had been eating dinner at their home when Hermione's patronus had appeared at their table and commanded that they turn up at the Manor. She blanched suddenly at the sight of her criminal ex-husband lying whimpering on the floor, his body twisted at odd angles, every breath seeming torture to him. She felt sick at the sight, but managed to collect herself when she saw the livid expression on Draco's face as he paced the room; Hermione seemed furious and devastated in equal measure.

"What the hell is going on?" barked James, his eyes widening when a second set of apparitions echoed through the room, turning he saw Victoire appear with her two children in hand, her eyes grim and worried.

"Teddy just sent a patronus, they're evacuating Hogwarts," she said in a shaky voice as she sank into one of the couches, not seeming to notice the presence of the Potters. But she noticed Harry, and Ginny was stunned when the gentlest woman in their entire family reached out and slapped him hard, causing his jaw to shift and him to howl in guttural agony.

"Evacuating Hogwarts?" Alison looked ill, "Can somebody explain what's happening?"

"Ask him!" spat Hermione, gesturing to Harry with a disgusted look on her face.

"Albus . . ." murmured Cassiopeia, who Ginny just noticed was there. The young blonde woman was being held by her brothers Scorpius and Hugo, both of whom were glaring furiously at Harry. Ginny's heart sank as she saw the girl's tears, _no no no, he can't be dead . . . I'm his mother, I would feel it._

"He isn't dead," said Teddy grimly, walking in through the fireplace with Rose in tow, "It's worse than that." Both of them were still wearing their work robes and were soaked through with rain and mud.

"What could be worse than being dead?" asked Alison as she rocked her son. Ginny noticed that James was stonily silent; he had angry tears in his eyes. Then he walked forward and slammed his fist into his father's stomach, growling as Harry spewed blood in response. Andrea Lupin shrieked and buried her head in her mother's skirts. There was a tense silence before two of Albus' friends, Ginny recognized them as Francesca – her son's new sister-in-law through her marriage to Hugo – and Katherine who was holding a baby of her own, hurried forward and declared that the children should be taken upstairs. Hermione nodded as Victoire and Alison followed the two girls up, herding the kids with them. Francesca looked especially ticked off, she had been on her honeymoon when Draco's patronus had shown up and called them both back to the Manor.

"What did you do?" snarled James as soon as the children were gone. He pulled back his fist to slam it into his father's gut again but was thrown back when the entire house seemed to quake. A few minutes later the shaking stopped and everyone stared at each other, wondering what was happening. Hermione and Draco just exchanged significant looks.

"He exhumed Leo, stole his hair and then used polyjuice to try and get close enough to Albus to kill him," said Scorpius in a harsh voice, stroking his sister's back as she broke into fresh tears.

"Albus lost control didn't he?" Ginny phrased it as a statement rather than a question, backing away from Harry as bile welled up in her stomach – too think she had shared a bed with such a monster – she remembered Albus storming into Grimmauld Place to rescue her all that time ago, remembered his power and how he uncontrollable he had been. She gave off a low moan f despair when Hermione nodded.

The earth shook again violently, this time there were loud crashes as several vases and other antique pieces of decor crashed to the ground.

"Ginny, I suggest you send patronus' out to the rest of your family; the Manor is the only safe place right now." Ginny nodded, her lower lip trembling as she got to her feet and walked a slight distance away from the others to send out the messages to her brothers and parents.

(*)(*)(*)

The earth shook again, a powerful tremor that they only managed to remain standing through thanks to the powerful magical spells and wards that were cast over the Manor. Teddy had informed them that Albus was at Hogwarts, which was also the origin of the magical storm that was enveloping the entire globe. From what they could gather, he was pouring huge amounts of dark magic into the earth and sky, thus creating what the muggles would call Judgement Day. Right now those members of the family with foreign contacts were trying to establish what the damage was so far. Harry had been thrown into the Malfoy dungeons but not before James, Draco and Scorpius had all taken turns to hit him with the cruciatus curses.

Cassiopeia had revoked her life debt to him when it became clear he was on the verge of death, when several had protested her apparent mercy she had responded in an icy tone.

"If he dies then he gets the peace of death . . . if he lives then he can spend the rest of his miserable life being tortured for what he's done. He's going to the Black Cells, and he is going to suffer there for as long he lives."

Nobody had raised a voice to contradict her or to defend him after her proclamation.

(*)(*)(*)

"A tsunami just hit the entire eastern seaboard of America," said Hermione, her face distraught as she stepped away from the floo, "Millions are dead."

Scorpius suddenly blanched bone white, grabbing hold of the wall to steady himself before he fell backwards into the sofa. "Lily and Orion are in America . . ." he whispered faintly. Ginny gave a small scream when she heard this before sinking to the ground with her head buried in her hands. Behind her Trystane began crying in his mother's arms – too young to understand yet somehow knowing that something was very wrong. Alison had left Kat and Victoire to look after the other children and had come back down with Francesca too see what they could do to help. James paced the room, his eyes closed, only one thought echoing through his mind.

_He had failed Albus again._

"The Ring of Fire is active," said Draco as he walked in from the next room, his face ashen, "Volcanoes all around the world are erupting."

"I've just received word from Egypt," added Bill grimly as the patronus he had been conversing with flickered and vanished, "The Mediterranean Sea just flooded into the Sahara."

"Perhaps instead of checking the damage, we should be thinking of a way out of this mess," pointed out Molly Weasley, her voice remarkably calm as she settled on the plush arm-chair that Narcissa Malfoy had favoured in life.

"We just need to restore the wards around Al's heart," said Cassiopeia quietly.

"I've seen you do that before," said Ginny hoarsely, "Why aren't you there right now doing just that."

"Because I can't dammit," cried Cassiopeia in a tone that was so rife with despair that it cut everyone who heard her to the bone, "I love him more than life itself but I can't go that close to so much dark magic without hurting my baby . . . And I can't bring myself to risk losing another child." She was crying again, causing Scorpius and Rose to shoot Ginny with dirty looks.

"I can," said James suddenly, "I can cast the wards." Alison opened her mouth to protest but James held up a hand to silence her.

"Nobody can get close enough to him," pointed out Teddy Lupin grimly, he had been at Hogwarts when Minerva had begun evacuating the school. He had seen what Albus had done to those who had tried to stand in his way, "Anyone who gets within two dozen feet of him gets ripped to bloody shreds."

"He won't hurt me," insisted James, "I can get close enough to talk him back; I can recast the wards that hold back his darkness."

"James," said Alison gently yet fearfully, "What if he . . . you have a son, you can't put yourself in danger like that."

"He won't hurt me," said James, ignoring his wife, "He's my baby brother . . . he would never hurt me. I can save him." Draco and Scorpius both looked at him with pity in their eyes, Rose shook her head morosely before her eyes brightened, "And we can shield you," said Rose.

"Shield me?" asked James quizzically, nearly falling to the ground as the entire Manor shook violently. The wards could only do so much to negate the cataclysm affecting the world outside.

"Yes," said Hermione, catching on to her daughter's train of thought, "We can use our magic to shield you, it will buy you time to get close enough. But Albus is so powerful . . . I can feel his power from here and it eclipses Voldemort, a barrier won't last long against him."

"Not if we work together," said Rose, her years as a curse-breaker had thought her many tricks of the trade. Bill looked up with interest, effortlessly catching onto what his fellow curse breaker was saying when everyone else seemed lost to the meaning of her words.

"It's an old curse-breaker trick," explained Bill, "Usually in dangerous tombs, a team of us cast a barrier around one specific individual, who will then enter the tomb and break the curses from within. The barrier is maintained by the magical energy of his teammates and protects him from being hurt by the curses placed on the tomb."

"Exactly," said Rose, "We can shield James and then he can get close enough to seal Albus."

"I'll help," said Molly Weasley, "Show me how to cast a barrier." Arthur nodded in agreement beside her, stating that he would lend his magic as well.

"He's my son," muttered Ginny, "I'm helping too."

"And my husband," said Cass. Alison nodded, "You're not going without my protection James." The two witches shared a look of grim understanding.

All around the room people were nodding and lending their support as Rose and Bill showed them how to weave the magical barriers that would shield James from Albus' darkness. James didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he took in the room . . . Slytherins, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws all were working together for the greater good . . . Weasleys and Malfoys working as a single cohesive unit to save the world.

_You brought them together Albus . . . Now let me bring you home . . ._

(*)(*)(*)

_A/N: Just one more chapter and the Epilogue to go._

_Review Please, If I get 10 reviews for this chapter and the next two each I reach my goal of 200. If I reach 200, then I will release the Prologue for the Sequel on Saturday._


	22. Chapter 21

**The Good Son**

**Chapter Twenty One**

**Brotherhood**

James Sirius Potter walked towards the great doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the waves of darkness washing over his barriers like the roaring waters of the ocean. The shields were powerful, held in place by some of the most powerful witches and wizards alive but even so, it did little to mask the raging inferno of dark energy that crashed around him, laced through with the magical signature of his brother. He took the steps slowly, not seeming to notice the stains of blood and gore that stained them where those bigoted few who had thought to stop his brother had perished, torn apart by the Shadows that now darkened the sky.

The sky was dark and stormy, the torrential rain and crashing fury of thunder seeming to tear apart both worlds, sky and earth both being sundered beneath the rampaging power that had been loosed upon the planet. James shuddered as he pushed open the doors, he could see the spiralling beam of black energy rising from the Astronomy Tower, the tower upon which he was sure he would find his brother.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Jamie. . . too strong," he heard a voice upon the air and felt a barrier break around him, his brother's powerful dark aura having drained its caster of their magic, forcing them to relinquish their connection to him. Remy Lupin, eleven years old and still a first year had leant his magic to the barriers. It was surprising his barrier had lasted this long – then again the boy was strong for his age.

_Two boys sat side by side on a bed, one six and one four, playing a game of exploding snap. One, the youngest, jumped backwards as the stack exploded and singed their eyebrows. The older reached forward instinctively to comfort him, his brother had always been scared of thunder – something that the booming deck must no doubt sound like. _

"_It's just a pack of cards Al," said James with a smile on his face, wanting to tease his baby brother but caring too much to make fun of his fears._

"_I know Jamie," replied Albus, "It just made me jump is all."_

James shook himself, where had that memory come from? He had almost forgotten it, it had been so very long ago and they had been so young and naive to the sins of the world. Of the two of them it had always been Albus who had hidden behind James; it had always been James who was the protector.

Till James had chosen what was easy instead of what was right, and had stabbed his baby brother in the back.

His feet were leaden as he climbed the stairs of the abandoned castle. Around him the portraits screamed in fear, a dull harmony to his ears. He tuned out their shrieks, concentrating solely on forcing his way through the Darkness which fought to drive him back. He couldn't let Albus down again; he needed to renew the wards.

"It's up to you now," said Delphin Zabini, his voice a ghostly whisper on the wind, his power breaking at the same time as Xavier Avery's did. There was a cry of frustration which echoed through him and he knew that his grandparents had relinquished their barriers as well.

"_I don't want to!" pleaded Albus, looking up tearfully at his older brother, "I'm scared."_

"_C'mon Al," said James with a grin as he held two broomsticks in his hand, "Flying is fun."_

"_But what if I fall?" he asked, lip trembling as he took the broom his brother handed to him. It had been specially crafted for an eight year old to use, a perfect first broom for a child. _

"_Then I'll catch you," shrugged James._

"_Promise you won't let me fall?"_

"_Promise," agreed James._

He walked past the entrance of Gryffindor Tower, closing his eyes to numb the childhood memories that kept surfacing. Suddenly he felt something hit him in the face, something brown and leathery. The Sorting Hat. How much trouble had it caused through the years, James sincerely doubted his brother had been the first who had been made to suffer because it had placed him in a different house than the rest of his family. He thought of flinging it away but that seemed oddly disrespectful to the school, especially seeing as the Hat was a part of Hogwarts. So he picked it up in his free hand and kept walking, his wand shuddering in the other.

He gasped, wincing as he felt the icy tendrils of darkness brush against his skin, his barriers buckling ever so slightly as with a series of yells and grunts several dissipated under the onslaught. His cousins and god-brother, his mother and uncles all speaking broken phrases as they left him to walk into the abyss with just four barriers remaining.

"Bring him home James."

That was his mother, her voice thick with tears that she could not bring herself to shed.

"He's our brother," groaned Teddy, "But he's so strong."

"We can't" muttered Rose, "Too weak to hold it up."

"I love you," whispered Alison, "Please be safe. Please come home safely, Jamie."

"_I don't want to be a Slytherin!" cried Albus, stamping his feet as his brother goaded him._

"_Well too bad, little snake," grinned James mischievously, "You are so going to be a Slytherin!"_

"_I won't! I'll be a Gryffindor just like you and dad!"_

"_You need to be brave to be a lion kid," pointed out James._

"_I am brave," said Albus quietly, stung by his brothers insinuation. _

"_Yeah right."_

James had never regretted a conversation more than the one he had had on the eve of his brother's first train ride to Hogwarts. Because Albus was the bravest man he knew, he had suffered so much and still managed to achieve so much. He had found love in a world that hated him, found a family when his own had turned on him, found happiness when his own father wished him nothing but sorrow. It took a subtle type of bravery to rise above so much pain, not the brash kind that every Gryffindor possessed, the kind of courage that existed within your own heart.

The type of courage that had led Lily Evans Potter to giving her own life for her son, the type that had led Dobby to die rescuing the Golden Trio, the selfless bravery of somebody who wanted to help others more than himself.

And how had his brother been rewarded for it? He had had his son taken from him.

"Ward his heart," said Draco quietly; "Help him," added Scorpius as the two purebloods had their barriers break like waves on a cliff. James was now at the foot of the tower, without looking back he began to climb. He felt his wand tremble and then shatter, a tortured screaming of splintering wood filling the air. He could feel the darkness more tangibly than ever now, buffeting his twin barriers with more power than he could contemplate.

"I can't do anymore," murmured Hermione as she left him and James reached the top of the tower with only a single guardian, his sister-in-law: Cassiopeia. He could feel her straining, her barrier already thinner than paper and being shredded to dust but she clung on, endangering her own life in the process.

"Release me, for the sake of your child," said James quietly and her voice replied tearfully, sorrow and pain so strong in her voice that for a moment in reminded him of a phoenix song.

"I love him," she said, anguished that she could do no more, "Please save him."

As his barrier broke the darkness struck him head on, forcing him to take a step back. His skin burned with the intensity of the cold but he persevered onwards, finally coming face to face with Albus just as he felt flecks of his skin begin to tear away. His blood began to spot the ground around him, a perverse imitation of the pictures that Albus and he had finger painted when they were just but four and two.

"Albus! Stop!" he yelled even as the cloying power filled his mouth and scraped his throat raw and bloody. He bit back a shriek as the raging magic ripped out two of his fingernails in a streak of scarlet.

The Lord of Shadows contemplated him with an amused look on his face. His eyes were black, the whites invisible as he let out a mirthless laugh and flicked his wrist. James couldn't bite back the scream as he felt three ribs snap, the pointed tips stabbing out through his skin. His shirt had long since been ripped away, leaving him standing bare-chested and bloodied before the creature that was once his brother.

"Please Albus. Think of Cassiopeia! Do you know what this is doing to her," he needed to reach his brothers humanity; he knew Albus was still inside somewhere. A patch of skin across his shoulder was suddenly torn off, baring the muscle and tissue to the world.

"Mum is scared Albus! You're hurting her so badly right now. Lily could be dead. Lily, our sister. You remember her–" he was cut off when his brother cocked his head slightly, as if his interest had waned before slamming out his hand and grabbing his throat in a death grip.

"Cass . . . she's . . . she's pregnant, Albus," James choked out, his hands flying up to try and pull his brother's hands away from his neck. Albus fixed him with an icy glare, James' words not seeming to affect him in the slightest.

Albus' touch scorched his throat as if it was doused in acid, he tightened his grip and James coughed bloodily as he fought for air. Black spots began to fill his vision; his body wasn't struggling as much anymore. He looked at his killer, the beast that was once Albus and he whispered; his voice ragged like broken glass.

"Please, Albus . . . You're still . . . my baby brother, Al."

He fell to the ground, clutching at his throat and staring up in disbelief as pain seemed to spasm across Albus' face. The darkness in his eyes seemed to recede, still coating the edges but his gaze of emerald had returned. He met James' eyes, a look of horror and pain filling his gaze as he gasped, taking the short heaving breaths of a man fighting to stay in control. Something hard poked against James knee, his eyes widened as he saw the rubies sticking out of the hat.

"Let me . . . renew the wards," gasped James, kneeling because it was too much to stand. He winced when Albus shook his head. A second spasm of pain crossed Albus' face as for a moment the eyes glazed over with inky black before the Darkness was being forced away once more.

A jet of purple lightning struck the tower with enough force to send a chunk of the building crashing to the ground. James forced himself to stand up in the ruined tower, shaking unsteadily from blood loss and broken bones but strengthened by his determination to not fail Albus again.

"It's too strong James," he said in a thick voice, "I can barely hold it back, I only have a few moments before the Shadows take hold again." His eyes were broken and haunted, James' words being the only thing that strengthened him enough to fight the Shadows that threatened to engulf him and then engulf the world. James looked on in defeat, blood dripping from where his skin had been ripped off.

"Save me," said Albus softly, his face trembling under the strain of fighting to stay in control.

"How?" asked James, hope sparking in his eyes because his brother had always been the most intelligent one between them. Where James had been brawn and blindly courageous, Albus had always been cunning and methodical.

He was sure that Al had a plan. He would do anything to save his baby brother; his magic began to flood his fingertips as he prepared to recast whatever wards his brother desired.

His heart dropped when Albus gestured at the Sword of Gryffindor sticking out of the Sorting Hat, waiting to be drawn.

"No . . ." pleaded James, "You can't ask that of me."

"Please Jamie," said Albus, "Please. I don't want to hurt anyone else . . . Please."

James drew the sword and prepared to fling it away, tears filling his eyes as he clenched them shut. The world seemed to stand still as he fingered the hilt, the rubies shining like blood in the growing darkness. He couldn't kill his brother, there had to be another way.

The earth shuddered, a large chasm opening across the grounds and began to bleed molten red.

_I don't want to hurt anyone else . . . Please_.

"I love you," he said, his voice breaking as he stabbed his brother through the heart.

Albus cried out, his back arching as he threw back his head in pain before sinking forward. James caught him as they both fell to the ground, the sky already beginning to clear, a single beam of sunlight piercing the storm as the sleet abated. The earth beneath them stopped rumbling. The wind began dulling to a gentle breeze as dozens of Shadows screamed and clawed at the walls of the tower in vain as they were dragged back to from whence they came.

"I . . . love . . . you too, Jay-Jay," Albus managed, his eyes a bright emerald green, a faint smile on his face.

Then his eyes stared without seeing, his face growing wet with tears as James howled in agony, crying as he cradled the body of his brother, shrieking as for a moment his heart ceased to beat. So great was his anguish that he did not see the dark Shadow pull away from Albus' body or its familiar silhouette as it was called to the side of it's summoner.

"I'm so sorry, Al," he cried, his blood still dripping and mingling with Albus' upon the cold stone floor.

The blood of two brothers . . .

Who tore gaping holes out of each other's hearts but never stopped loving each other, no matter what.

_You're still my baby brother, Al . . ._

(*)(*)(*)

_A/N: Thoughts _

_Just the Epilogue left . . . wow I felt like crying writing this. Did you cry reading it? _


	23. Epilogue

**The Good Son**

**Epilogue**

James Sirius Potter walked slowly as he made his way to the private graveyard on the grounds of Malfoy Manor, a wreathe of white roses in his hand as the wind tousled his hair, still a deep brunette despite all the grief he had lived through had threatened to grey it. He could see the grave in the distance, white marble. It was as simple as his brother's miscarried son's which gleamed brightly in the sunlight. Albus had been laid to rest on the Malfoy grounds in their private burial plot, though Ginny had asked that he lie in Godric's Hollow beside the other Potters and Weasleys who had fallen and Cassiopeia had been acquiescent in her mother-in-law's demands James had been adamant. His brother would lie in the place his heart truly laid, beside Leo and the people who accepted him without hesitation.

He sighed, there was already a visitor at the grave, he didn't need to go closer to see who it was though. The flash of platinum hair was enough.

Cassiopeia Potter knelt beside her late husband's grave, lovingly running the back of her hand along the cool marble, a few tears falling freely from her eyes. Beside her, sitting cross-legged on the soft green grass was his six year old niece Aurora Cassiopeia Potter, his goddaughter. He hadn't wanted to be named such, he was honoured but how could he be godfather to a girl whose father he had killed? Cassiopeia had insisted, telling him that it had been Albus' wish to name his godfather to their second child – they had decided on that when choosing Leo's godparents; Scorpius and Rose – and she would respect his choice. In the end he had accepted the honour, though looking at his niece often made himself want to blind himself to take away some of the pain.

They rarely saw each other though. Not that he blamed Cassiopeia for keeping her distance from her late husband's family, what widow would wish to willingly spend time with the man who had killed her husband and left her daughter fatherless. There was always a lingering sadness about the platinum haired woman, James often thought the only reason she lived was for Aurora. He felt sorry for her; she had buried her firstborn and her husband before she had turned twenty five. He was right on one count; Aurora was her only reason for living. The girl had her mother's beauty, porcelain skin and sleek hair but she possessed her father's colouring. That silky hair was sable, those eyes were emerald green.

It hurt James to look into her eyes . . . because to him it was Albus who stared back.

He felt himself tearing up at the sight, the girl beside his sister-in-law not knowing why her mother was so sad, yet still old enough to understand the concept and finality of death. Never had he seen a child so sombre – on the brief instances he had seen Aurora before; she had always been laughing and smiling – as when she sat beside the graves of her father and stillborn brother. The family she had never known.

"You don't have to keep your distance," said Cassiopeia without looking up from the marble, "He was your brother before he was my husband." The years had been good to her and despite the grief she had lived through she still held onto vestiges of her youthful liveliness. The only way of realising how incredibly anguished her life had been was to note the faint crinkles around her eyes, etched there from years of tears, and the haunted look buried in her silver-grey eyes.

"You loved him more than I did," said James quietly, coming up beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. To his relief she did not shake him off, it was more for his comfort than her own. He felt guilty for feeling that way but Cassiopeia was the only person alive who felt the pain of Albus' death as keenly as he did. Lily, he hadn't seen his sister in years. His mother was a broken shell of herself, the only reason Ginny still rose from her bed in the mornings were her grandchildren. He didn't fault her, Albus and Lily were both gone – though differently so – and though Ginny hated herself for it, she could never look James in the eye since that faithful day he had left to stop his brother. There were days James could only look into the mirror and think _murderer._

"There isn't a day I don't miss him," said Cass, not rebutting his statement even though she had often wondered if anyone had ever loved her husband as much as his brother had. The brothers had torn bloody holes out of each other's hearts through the years but she knew that deep down they had always been there for each other, mostly in the background, but always there at important intervals in the others life. James loved Albus, he loved him enough to let him go – Cassiopeia knew she never would have been able to do that.

"Me too," whispered James, gazing at the writing on the grave.

_Albus Severus Potter_

"_You could have lived to be a God but chose to die a Man"_

(*)(*)(*)

Cassiopeia stared into the mirror as she ran her comb through her hair, working out the knots and tangles, the moonlight shining through the window and painting the room with its silvery light. Aurora was asleep, dreaming sweet dreams that she herself with never know again.

She sighed softly, a tear welling in her eye as the moonlight caught the emerald of her wedding band. Six years she had been a widow and yet she had not once taken it off once despite people telling her that maybe it was time for her to move on. She was still young and beautiful, they all had told her. Why should she content herself to live in grief?

Because they didn't understand that she had given her heart away once and that even though he had died, Albus had never returned it. They didn't understand that he was her last love . . . just as he had been her first.

"Come to me," she whispered delicately, feeling the slight tug in her heart as the Shadow was summoned from where it had been bound. In the moonlight it coalesced, and even though it was night and he held no colour safe for inky shadow, she could still see his emerald eyes.

"You need to let me go Cass," he said softly, "You need to be happy again, you need to let me rest," running the back of his hand across her cheek in a lovers caress. She hissed slightly at the icy cold of his touch, biting her lip to keep from crying out. Her eyes gleamed wetly as she reached out her own hand and cupped his spectral cheek, her fingers slipping through him because of course he had no physical form.

"I can't," she said, tears running down her cheeks, "I can't let you go Albus."

(*)(*)(*)

**-End of Book One: The Good Son**

**-The Sequel, titled "Call Me Home" has been published and can be found on my profile now. **

(*)(*)(*)

_A/N: _So basically I would like to thank all my loyal readers, reviewers, followers and all those who have added this fic to their favourites. A special thanks goes out to the following individuals who have been reviewing this fic since the beginning and have stuck by me all the way – even through some of my more difficult story choices.

Dutch Potterfan

Aeireis

Arwengeld

Sirensings090

Surugasasa

Leilanecris

ReginaSlytherin

RedButterfly33

And so many more of you awesome people. I do hope you continue to read this series, "Call Me Home," takes up six years after the events of the last chapter and runs along the same time frame as this epilogue.

The main pairings are: James/Alison ; Rose/Delphin ; Scorpius/Lily ; Kat/Xavier; Draco/Hermione ; Hugo/Francesca and Cassiopeia/Shadow!Albus


End file.
