not your typical annihilatrix (furiosity) wrote,
not your typical annihilatrix

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Fic: History's Victims [Albus Severus/Scorpius; Rose/Scorpius; PG-13] (1/?)

Title: History's Victims (1/?)
Author: furiosity
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Albus Severus/Scorpius; Rose/Scorpius
Disclaimer: JKR owns. I only play. You do not sue.
Summary: History is the most reliable creature in the world. Through chance or determination, she always repeats herself.
Notes: Unbetaed, read at your own risk.
Length: 2500 words
Concrit: Always welcome and appreciated.

History's Victims

"Detention. Now."

Scorpius merely stared. His father always said that if you were stupid enough not to think of an excuse before you got into trouble, it was better to suffer the consequences in silence than to be caught lying. He cast a furtive glance around as he rose, brushing dead grass away from his robes. Al, of course, was long gone: scarpered as soon as old Filch came hobbling along the path.

Scorpius jotted a mental note as he trudged after Filch: If your friends are running, follow.

There were still four hours till curfew, and Scorpius knew Filch would make him work the entire time. He just hoped it wasn't trophy polishing. Scorpius didn't care if it said Mrs Skower's on the bottle; the vile stuff had to be concocted by Muggles in secret anti-wizard laboratories. It smelled like a goat's arse and got everywhere; Scorpius always had to wear his spare set of robes after polishing trophies.

After six years of almost weekly detentions, the caretaker's office felt rather like home. Scorpius stood leaning against a filing cabinet and watched Filch mutter and wheeze over a detention slip. The whisper of quill against parchment soothed Scorpius's nerves: it reminded him of those moments in lessons when everyone bent over their tests or notes, when Scorpius could watch Al for as long as he wanted. Despite his exuberance, Al did everything with quiet care and relentless deliberation; he was the antithesis to the quick temper and itchy wand-fingers hiding behind Scorpius's cool facade. Maybe that was why Scorpius liked him so much.

Filch's reedy voice snapped Scorpius back to reality. "Move aside, then."

Scorpius complied, and Filch tottered towards the filing cabinet. He stood still for a moment, then pointed to the bottom drawer. "That one," he said. "Detention slips. Organise them by date and by offender name. No magic. Heh." With that, Filch returned to his desk and assumed the position of ignoring Scorpius.

Shrugging, Scorpius lowered himself to the floor and pulled out the bottom drawer. He would be covered in parchment cuts, no doubt, but it was nothing a little essence of Murtlap couldn't put right. The detention slips lay in a messy heap inside the drawer; Scorpius quickly determined that he would be better off taking them out of the drawer before attempting to sort them at all.

That done, Scorpius picked up the first card he saw. In 1991, a Marcus Flint of Slytherin received detention for inappropriate advances on a classmate during Potions. The card didn't say what his punishment had been, but the authorising teacher's name caught his eye. Severus Snape. The same bloke who was Headmaster for one year, the one with Al's middle name. It was funny, really, how everything Scorpius did always came back to Al.

Shaking off the thought, Scorpius wondered why these cards did not list the type of punishment received. Wouldn't it have been more efficient to note the type of punishment, and then perhaps cross-reference types of punishment with further incidents of the same person ending up in detention?

Now you're thinking like Rosie, Scorpius told himself, and placed the card to his left. That would be his "1991" pile. He'd alphabetise later. Oh, his girlfriend would definitely find this amusing: Scorpius Malfoy, entrusted with order rather than chaos.

The next card was from 1994. Draco Malfoy of Slytherin was caught outside the common room in the company of a fellow Slytherin, one Pansy Parkinson. Scorpius felt a momentary twinge of sadness: at seventeen, he still didn't know much about his father's Hogwarts career. At least he'd got detentions, too. Scorpius didn't understand why Father always got so upset with him for his poor conduct record. Who was Pansy Parkinson? Had she been a fling, like Al's blink-and-you-missed-them girlfriends? Had she fled during the war and never returned? Perhaps Mother would know, though it would be awkward to ask.

Scorpius scanned the pile of cards, searching for his father's name. Instead, Potter shone out at him. In 1992, Harry Potter had served detention for arriving at school in a bewitched Muggle vehicle. Smiling to himself, Scorpius wondered if Al knew about that, and made a note to ask him. What was wrong with the Hogwarts Express? Still, it was impressive. Right next to this one was a detention for Ronald Weasley, for the same infraction. Rosie's father, a troublemaker? He probably hadn't met Mrs Weasley back then yet.

1991. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Draco Malfoy were in detention for being out of bed after curfew. So Al's and Scorpius's fathers had been friends, too. Scorpius wondered what had changed. On the subject of Al, his father had merely told him that his taste in friends left much to be desired. Al's report regarding his father's reaction had been similar.

1995. Harry Potter. Telling filthy lies, insubordination. This was signed by an "Umbridge" -- Dolores Umbridge? The old hag whose Azkaban sentence appeal was giving his father such a headache at work? Harry Potter, telling lies?

1993. Marcus Flint, Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle. Impersonating Dementors during a Quidditch match. Scorpius tried not to snigger, lest Filch think he was enjoying himself. But, really -- impersonating Dementors? What were they trying to do, scare the Bludgers to death?

1995. Harry Potter and George Weasley.

There had been an actual detention there, for a change, written in Filch's spare hand, but it had been crossed out. In bright red ink, the card proclaimed:

Lifetime Quidditch ban, for physically assaulting Draco Malfoy two-on-one after a minor disagreement. (Umbridge)

A little below, the same red ink:

Add Fred Weasley, for failing to break up the fight despite Mr Malfoy's serious injuries. DJU

Scorpius stared at the card in his hand, feeling as though it had just bitten him. Harry Potter had assaulted his father? He must have; it was plainly there in red ink. Well, it bore Umbridge's signature. Scorpius certainly knew from his father that the bitch knew how to lie well. What the hell had she been doing at Hogwarts, handing out detentions? Maybe Scorpius would borrow Rosie's copy of Hogwarts: A History and read it, for a change.

In 1996, Draco Malfoy had served detention for failing to turn in his Transfiguration homework twice in a row. He must've cleaned up his act closer to his N.E.W.T.s. Would that Scorpius could find the self-discipline to do the same.

In 1995, Lee Jordan had been caught at acts of sedition. Sedition? At Hogwarts? Umbridge again.

1996. Harry Potter. For using a forbidden and dangerous Dark curse on Draco Malfoy in the sixth-floor boys' toilets. This card was signed by Severus Snape.

Scorpius regarded the neat by-year stacks of cards he'd been assembling. Carefully, he lay the card in his hand atop the "1996" pile and glanced at the remaining cards.

...physically assaulting Draco Malfoy two-on-one after a minor disagreement...

...using a forbidden Dark curse on Draco Malfoy in the sixth-floor boys' toilets...

Scorpius went through the rest of the cards in record speed, but he found nothing else about his father, nothing to indicate that he'd returned Harry Potter's favours. There was more about Harry Potter -- insubordination, lies, sedition, wandering the castle, using illegal jinxes on Filch and fellow students -- but nothing about Draco Malfoy.

"If I were you, I would stay away from the Potter boy." His father's eyes were a mirror of his own, but calmer.

Scorpius drew himself up, defiant. He still liked Al -- after a whole term! He rarely took to people so easily. Still, his father disapproved. Shouldn't he listen? He thought of Al, green eyes full of mischief as they were given their first detention for nicking pies from the kitchen. He couldn't just drop him. Not Al.

"Well, you're not me," Scorpius said finally, and raised his head. Behind Father, Mother nodded with approval.

Father shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just don't expect us to invite him to dinner."

Scorpius felt only relieved. Had Father commanded him to stop being friends with Al, he would've had no choice.

No wonder Father wasn't keen on Scorpius's best friend. Al was the spitting image of his father. And he had plenty of stories about killing Basilisks and battling hundreds of Dementors. But he'd never told Scorpius that Harry Potter and his Gryffindor friends had bullied Slytherins. Not just any Slytherins. Scorpius's father. Why hadn't he told Scorpius about what Al's father had done to him?

...using a forbidden Dark curse on Draco Malfoy in the sixth-floor boys' toilets...

"Not finished, are you?" Filch's voice oozed disapproval.

"They're in order by year," said Scorpius dully. He had a mad desire to ask Filch if he remembered his and Al's fathers: the man was older than the castle itself.

Filch exposed his three teeth in a savage grin. "You'll just have to come back tomorrow, won't you? Put them back in the drawer, and be here tomorrow at six-thirty."

"Yes, sir," muttered Scorpius. He stacked the cards neatly inside the drawer, knowing that Filch would probably mess them up again just to be a twat.

It was only a short walk from Filch's office to the Slytherin dungeons, but Scorpius dreaded every step that took him closer to Al, who was no doubt waiting up for him. They always waited up for each other when one of them ended up in detention. They'd always done everything together. Al was the only boy at school Scorpius had never lied to. Until today, he'd assumed that Al was the same way. But that couldn't be true, could it? Scorpius's mind wandered to an imaginary Christmas dinner at the Potter residence.

"So, Al, you're still friends with that Scorpius Malfoy, are you?" asks Harry Potter, tall and handsome like his son.

"Oh, yeah, we're best mates. Even though he's the son of that twit Draco Malfoy."

"Did I ever tell you about the time I pummelled him after a Quidditch game? He cried like a baby. Are you sure his son is not like him?"

"Maybe a little. Scorpius is always the one to shoot down a brilliant plan just because he's afraid of getting caught."

"Just as I thought. He's probably a girly boy like his father. He must count his lucky stars every day that you're his friend."

Everyone laughs, even Rosie, and the conversation topic shifts.

Scorpius was almost at the common room entrance. The sound of Al's scornful laughter stung him. Stop being so ridiculous, he told himself firmly. You only imagined it. Al didn't really say those things about you.

He could have, though. He could have. He could've easily taken the mickey out of Scorpius whilst at home -- James was his brother, after all. James and Scorpius had hated each other on sight, and Al had never once interfered in their spats. Maybe that was because he secretly agreed with James, but didn't want to rock the Slytherin boat.

Scorpius hated himself for thinking these things, but he couldn't be certain, could he? He'd never had a reason to suspect that Al wasn't honest with him, until today. Maybe Al was only Scorpius's friend to help his future Auror career. Scorpius's father was a high-ranking Ministry official; his department could even put spokes in Hermione Weasley's wheels. Of course Al's father would've told him to be on Scorpius's good side just in case.

A part of him was horrified at what he was thinking. This was Al, his best friend of six years -- he loved Al. Another, colder, part of Scorpius thought it made perfect sense that Al was only using him. And no matter what he did, that part of him would not stay quiet. Every time he tried to suppress it, ink on parchment swam into his vision.

...using a forbidden Dark curse on Draco Malfoy in the sixth-floor boys' toilets...

"Parcifal," muttered Scorpius, and the common room door slid open with an earthy rumble.

"Scorpius!" Al was off the sofa and running to the door before Scorpius took a single step.

The common room was almost deserted; two seventh-year girls near the fireplace lifted their heads from their textbooks and graced Al's back with indulgent grins. No one tried to make him behave anymore; it was futile. Al consisted entirely of energy; people either loved him for it or stayed the hell out of his way.

The door slid shut behind Scorpius, and Al stopped a foot away from him, his eyes worried. "Did Filch try to find out? Did you tell him?"

Al had got it into his head that the Giant Squid had stopped coming out of the water because it had had babies. Scorpius and Al had gone to the lake that evening to try and fish out a baby Squid, hoping to lure the Giant Squid out again. They both agreed that the lake was listless and creepy without the Squid's tentacles breaking the surface every so often.

All of it seemed like a million years ago, probably because Scorpius had spent the past three and a half hours submerged in the past.

Al looked like an over-eager puppy, and Scorpius was disgusted with himself for thinking that Al could possibly be using him. That cold, unfamiliar part of him urged him to feel resentment: Al had run away; he hadn't stayed to face the consequences of their little fishing trip. He was just worried that Scorpius might've got him in trouble; the puppy act was just that -- an act.

"Don't worry," he said, a bit stiffly. "He didn't even bother asking. Just gave me detention."

Al nodded with a look of commiseration. "Trophies?" He pretended to sniff the air.

"Detention slips," said Scorpius, and began to walk towards the dormitories.

"I'm sorry," said Al, following. "I didn't know you weren't right behind me -- I thought you'd heard him. I thought you would run, too. When I turned around to check, Filch was already-- Scorpius?"

Scorpius turned round in the dormitory doorway. "What?" The way the light from the common room hid the corridor made Al look tiny whilst his shadow loomed huge on the wall.

"You aren't angry, are you?" Al's voice was hesitant.

"No," said Scorpius. "I would've done the same thing."

"What happened to the fishing rod?" asked Al.

See? He doesn't really care about you or your detention. He just got the pleasantries out of the way so he could ask after his fishing rod."

"Filch took it," said Scorpius, wondering if the nasty, cold voice would ever leave his brain.

"Oh, well," said Al. "We can always get another one."

Scorpius went through the door and headed straight to his bed. A night's sleep would help him sort out his thoughts. As he changed into his pyjamas, Al flopped down onto his bed and began to wax rhapsodic over their Hogsmeade plans. Not listening, Scorpius jabbed his arms into his pyjama top, muttering a curse when he missed. He'd been feeling increasingly awkward about undressing in front of Al over the past year or two, because he only ever seemed to get crushes on boys. He liked girls fine, but looking at them didn't make his heart beat faster. Kissing Rosie felt nice, but... not enough.

Al was more different still. One look from him could make Scorpius's stomach twist up in knots; one casual touch could make Scorpius's arms break out in goose pimples; the sound of Al's voice could make Scorpius lose concentration for minutes.

He was in love with Al, and that made things all the more difficult.

[tbc -- not sure how many parts it'll have yet, but it won't be more than 5]
[This post on: GJ | JF | IJ]
Tags: fic:era:tng, fic:fandom:hp, fic:genre:angst, fic:genre:romance, fic:length:short, fic:pairing:albus severus/scorpius, fic:post-dh, fic:pov:scorpius, fic:type:slash
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