Losing Harry

Notes: Written 26 Oct. 2008; Edited for errors/improvement 18 July 2009. It's a future fic. Thanks to KML for beta-ing this chapter.

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"AL!"

Albus Severus heard the door to his fourth year boys' dormitory bang open across the room, an echo to the shout of his name.

"Al! Are you okay?" Scorpius asked, his voice carrying as he came straight to the side of Albus's bed. The young Potter didn't move yet, however. He remained on his side, facing the far side of the room, his back to his best friend. He had to find a way to discreetly vanish the tear tracks before Scorpius spotted them.

They were men, after all. Fourteen-year-old men weren't supposed to cry. That's what James had said when he and Albus had parted ways at McGonagall's office that afternoon. James hadn't cried and hadn't reprimanded Lily for her tears, but for some reason he had found them out of place on his brother's face.

But their dad wouldn't have minded, Albus felt sure of it. His dad would have told him to be himself and stick up for himself and even if something hurt, to keep going, keep fighting. He wouldn't have said anything about not crying.

Not Dad.

Dad...

"Al?" Scorpius asked quietly, his fingers lightly brushing against Albus's shoulder and gripping gently, as if the other boy were afraid of disrupting something.

"Why weren't you in class? What happened? Where'd you go?" Scorpius asked.

Albus turned over slowly, allowing his friend to see him, bare and unhidden. Though Albus could tell that Scorpius noted the soppy features of his own face and his distraught expression, the blond boy simply tilted his head a bit to the side, and let his grey eyes sweep over Albus's face, as if looking for the answers of which Al hadn't yet spoken.

"McGonagall wanted to speak to us...about my dad," Albus said quietly, his gaze finding and holding Scorpius's. "He disappeared...just like yours."

His voice was almost a whisper, and Scorpius's features softened a bit more in reaction.

"What did McGonagall say?" Scorpius asked in a solemn tone.

"She said the last time dad was seen was two weeks ago. They didn't want to worry us, and they thought it was some undercover mission with the Aurors at first, but it wasn't. Then Mum tried to tell us that we shouldn't worry, but...we could all tell she's worried."

Albus paused, staring at the pattern of the blanket he was laying on, unable to bring his eyes back up to meet his friend's face, unsure of how long he could keep the composure and half-sense of clarity he was holding on to.

"I don't know what to think," Al continued in a quiet voice, finally looking up into those calm grey eyes.

He was comforted by the understanding look there, but he found that it didn't take away the fear squeezing his heart in its tight grip or the pain tugging at his gut. Scorpius more than understood, Albus knew, but that only increased his own fear. There was every possibility that Harry Potter could have vanished and might never come back, like some people were saying about Scorpius's dad. Al wanted so badly for it to be untrue, but he felt guilty for the thought, as though he were betraying Scorpius just by wishing his own father back. Mr Malfoy still remained missing. And though Albus wished for both to return, he didn't think it could be helped that he felt one wish a little more urgently than the other.

He thought his confusion was probably evident on his face, in the presence of his best friend, where neither of them wore their customary, unaffected Slytherin masks; Albus looked away again, unable to bear the scrutiny.

But Scorpius started pushing at Albus's side, and the dark-haired boy budged over on the bed, until both of the fourteen-year-old wizards lay side by side on the small Hogwarts bed, each of them thinking about their own father.

"What's happening? And why?" Albus finally breathed, shifting so that he lay on his back and staring up at the emptiness above them.

"I don't know."

It was quiet for a few beats, neither boy moving nor looking at the other.

"But I know what it's like," Scorpius said. He turned his head and looked at Albus, who tried very hard not to cry again. There was something about the offer and practice of unconditional friendship that left few unmoved, especially in their most vulnerable moments. In that small place, he was free to be vulnerable, where even his own brother hadn't allowed it.

They lay on the bed, as tears silently streamed down Albus's face, and Scorpius listened to him sniffle.

"You never cried," Albus said pathetically, ashamed of himself for not being as strong as his friend.

"I did this summer," Scorpius confessed. "When we first realized Father was missing, and several days went by. And I found Mum in her bedroom one night, about a hundred tissues on the bed, sobbing. I snuck out of the house that night, and climbed onto our roof, and I cried. And I tried to imagine him coming back, maybe on a broomstick or a Hippogriff..."

It was quiet for a moment before Scorpius spoke again.

"You know, I've heard stories of Hippogriff riding," he said slowly, as though the thought had hung in his head and he wished to entertain it, perhaps without actually changing the subject. He went on. "Actually, I think it was your dad."

Albus heard a faint smile on Scorpius's voice and felt an unidentifiable feeling tug at his own insides as he thought about stories of his dad, about him riding a Hippogriff, about all the legends that went around school about what Harry Potter had done.

"He could have come back in a flying car, like the Muggles have. Or even on a dragon. I just wanted him to come back..."

"Why didn't you write me?" Albus asked thoughtfully.

"We've never really written each other much during the summer, have we?" Scorpius asked. "I guess I just hoped Father would be back before school started again, and then it would all be behind me and I could forget about it."

"You still should have told me," Al reprimanded with stifled conviction.

"And what, we could have snuck off together to go find him, even when no one else in the Magical world has been able to do it?" Scorpius teased darkly.

"Well..." Albus shrugged one shoulder with a little effort, wishing it could be so easy, wishing someone had been able to find Mr Malfoy and that someone would be able to find his own dad.

It wasn't right. People didn't just go missing. Not since...since those Dark times that his dad and his aunt and uncle had told him about. Albus had read about You-Know-Who, and even in his year he knew students who were scared of the wizard's name, or his ghost reappearing, or someone starting up a renewed following. His dad had always told him not to fear the name, and that it was all ancient history now. But Albus had to wonder what was going on. He wasn't in Slytherin for nothing. Ravenclaw was known for its cleverness, but Slytherins were no less clever - and they had cunning to boot.

Al didn't want to think of all the possibilities for what had happened with his father, because they seemed endless, especially with a job like an Auror's. But what if more people went missing? Other students' parents, or even their professors? He wondered if there was some connection between both Scorpius's dad and his own disappearing, but he couldn't think of any reason that made sense.

'People don't just disappear!' his own voice shouted in his mind.

"Al?" Scorpius asked, interrupting the entanglement in his mind.

Albus took a deep breath and reminded himself where he was again.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"It'll be all right."

Albus frowned immediately and looked away.

"It'll be all right," Scorpius repeated, catching Al's chin in his fingers and forcing Albus to look at him.

"How can you say that?" Al immediately questioned, eyes narrowed as he turned to face Scorpius more.

"Because...it will be. I mean, think about everything your dad survived when he was a boy. Everyone knows the stories. He was younger than us the first time he faced You-Know-Who. Your dad can do anything. It'll be okay. I...I just know it."

"And your dad?" Albus asked, eyebrows knit together as he worried his lower lip between his teeth.

"I think...I think and I hope he'll be okay, too," Scorpius said with less confidence.

The room was silent in a manner that belied how a school full of young magical students should sound.

"Besides," Scorpius continued, "you've always got me, you know."

Albus smiled a little.

"You're a great friend," he said.

Then Scorpius smiled, and something flitted quickly through his gaze, but whatever it was, Albus didn't recognize it as something he could label, though it was possible he had seen it before and never figured out what it was. He couldn't think about it now.

All he could think about was his dad.

..:..

"I've got the Daily Prophet and the Wizard Times ," Scorpius said over his sausages at breakfast a few days later.

"And I've got the newest Quibbler . Dad told me once that everyone has always said it's rubbish, but sometimes it's the only news that's accurate. Sometimes. I don't think the headline about the Russian Fruzhenshanskiy infestation in southern Turkey is very accurate news, though." Albus frowned.

"What's a Fruz-whatsit?" Scorpius asked.

Albus shrugged and flipped through a few pages of the magazine, forgetting about the plate of food in front of him. Scorpius and Al had devised a plan. They had taken out subscriptions to every major, and a few minor, Wizarding newsprint publications and were going to read every bit of news they could to look for any signs of suspicious happenings.

"We may only be fourth years," Albus had said to Scorpius, "but Dad, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione were first years when they fought a Troll. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

Of course it wasn't logical that two fourth years could figure out something that even Aurors hadn't solved, but that was no different from when Al's dad had been a student and had fought dragons, Dark magic, and the Dark Lord himself. However, figuring that more numbers on their side meant more in their favor, they had enlisted the Scamander twins to help. Luckily, the two didn't seem to mind one bit sitting at the Slytherin table that morning.

"I don't think the Scottish Tribune or the Welsh Magicking News is going to tell us much," Lysander said. "I mean, they're too small and they only cover very local news."

"But you never know what might end up being important," Lorcan argued. "I don't see anything strange in the European Magical World or in Scandinavian Soiree . But I'm only half way through both of them."

"Do you think we need to try news specific to Russia, Asia, or the Americas?" Albus asked doubtfully, suddenly thinking that maybe the world was just a bit too big for him to have any chance of finding his father.

"No," Scorpius answered immediately. "It's best to limit a search to a logical radius and not waste time. The UK is our best bet, but we're keeping tabs on the EU and Scandinavian countries, just in case. Besides, the Daily Prophet would tip us off to anything important happening in other parts of the world, if it was big enough to catch our attention. Otherwise, we would probably miss it anyway."

Albus was grateful that Scorpius could always think clearly when his own reasoning threatened to fail him. He thought they made a pretty good team.

"Hey, did you know wands cost twenty-four Galleons in Sweden?" Lysander asked.

"That's not really relevant, is it?" Scorpius asked, eyeing the twin.

"Er, no." Lysander frowned.

"What about a missing parakeet in Holland?" Lorcan suggested, not bothering to look up from his paper.

"How on earth did that get into the magical news?" Scorpius asked scathingly, as if it were an insult to his very wizarding blood.

"Apparently the bird is reported to be magical, though confirmation of such is unavailable at this time," Lorcan replied, reading directly from the news article.

The four boys spent their breakfast time reading newspapers, and three of the four even managed to eat between articles. The fourth had had a stomachache for the past four days and could hardly think of food anyway. The search through the newspapers had done nothing to soothe his worries, and a long day of classes, including a particularly dreadful Transfiguration class, had left Albus in a wearied mood.

He sat in the Quidditch stands later that afternoon, tugging his jacket around his collar and watching two sixth years playing Seeker's Game with the Snitch. Even a game of Quidditch didn't feel as distracting as it would have normally. Instead, just the thought of Quidditch made Albus think of his dad and wonder if they'd ever play together again.

Al wasn't sure how long he'd been watching the two Seekers, but it was long enough that he had ceased really watching and started merely sitting and staring as the sun went down unnoticed. A hand closed on his shoulder, and then two feet dropped down besides his as a warm presence settled on the bench beside him.

"It's too bad there's no Quidditch game this weekend, huh?" Scorpius said. "I bet you could use the distraction."

Albus shrugged.

The two boys sat in quietness. Albus didn't know what to say, but he didn't feel uncomfortable sitting by his friend with neither of them speaking. The Seekers finished their game and headed towards the locker rooms to change and put their things away.

"Mum's a witch," Al said suddenly.

Scorpius blinked at him, but Albus barely noticed it, continuing as his thoughts wove together and jumped out of his mouth without hesitation.

"So's Aunt Hermione, and Uncle Ron's a wizard. Shouldn't they be able to find our dads? Shouldn't the bloody Aurors ?" His voice had risen in volume without his notice. It made the silence in the stands sound louder.

Scorpius patted his shoulder awkwardly, and when Al looked over at him, Scorpius apparently changed his mind and hugged him quickly, as if doing so would prevent any more awkwardness.

They pulled apart a few minutes later and Al sniffled, pushing back the emotions warring inside of him.

"Potty and Scorpy sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Scorpius and Albus both whipped around instantly, their eyes latching onto the student on the field below. It was Thomas, one of James' friends. And it wasn't the first time he had shouted such a thing.

Albus felt a burning urge to pummel the boy and whip out his wand for a spell that would turn his kneecaps to earthworms.

Thomas laughed, and then the laughter doubled when another figure came bounding up beside him. It was James, and he didn't appear to notice Albus and Scorpius, but when Thomas and James exchanged words, Al's brother looked up. He grabbed Thomas and shoved him toward the path back up to the school, the laughter having died with James' scowl.

"What?" Thomas asked defensively, loud enough so that his voice carried up to where Al and Scorpius sat.

Al didn't hear any conversation after that, and he tried not to think about it. It was strange going to a school with his brother, sister, cousins, and other family and family friends, and yet being their rival, too. He rarely spoke to any of them at school. But he was grateful that he was in Slytherin. The Slytherins accepted him and they had helped him become the person he was meant to be.

"Come on, let's go," Albus suggested, standing up.

"You want to sneak into the Gryffindor locker room and put itching curses on all of their flying robes first?" Scorpius asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Albus rolled his eyes. Scorpius was never malicious, but he often offered to do very malicious things to get back at the Gryffindors, usually as a way to make Albus feel better, to soothe the twinge of betrayal that sometimes underlined the anger.

"Lorcan nicked some treacle fudge from dinner. Let's get some before it's all gone." Scorpius changed his suggestion.

The two boys made their way back to Hogwarts, each trying to forget the heavy absence in their hearts.