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brookeap3 · 6 years

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Love in a Hopeless Place

Regina and Robin can't stay away from each other, despite their best efforts. A canon happy ending for day seven of #OQHappyEndingWeek. Set in 4a.

{ ffn } { ao3 }

-:-

It happens again and again, night after night. No matter how many times they promise themselves they are going to stop, that this will be the last time, it never is. They can’t stay away. Have lost track of the number of times they’ve failed at this point.

Regina is lying naked in his arms, her ear listening to the steady beating of his heart still returning to a normal rhythm after they’d finished driving each other wild. Their bodies are still slick with sweat, her fingers swirling aimlessly around his chest as she whispers, “We can’t keep doing this.” Robin sighs deeply, his arms tightening around her as if afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go.

“We’ve said that before, many times in fact, and yet here we are,” he points out.

“That doesn’t make it right, Robin,” Regina counters, exasperation coloring her tone. She wants to push away, to draw herself out of his hold because this has to end. But she’s weak. Just as her mother had always told her. Love is weakness. And she loves him so very much. More than either of their honors, it would seem, and she can’t quite bring herself to untether that feeble connection quite yet.

Marian is lying frozen on the other side of her vault, and they are no closer to discovering a way to bring her back. Yet here they are. Lying naked and sated in each other’s arms and the guilt weighs heavily on Regina’s heart. She doesn’t know when she became this person, considering others before her own selfish desires. The Evil Queen never would have hesitated to take what she wanted from anyone, least of all the woman who had returned from the dead to rip her soulmate away from her. Not that it would appear she’s doing a bang up job of it, but that’s why this has to stop.

Robin’s nose nuzzles into her hair, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he admits, “I know.” Because she’s right. What they’re doing is wrong. It’s disrespectful to not only his wife but to Regina and himself as well. They’re in a messy, complicated situation, but he can’t deny that he’s no longer in love with Marian. He’d had years to grieve her, to allow his heart to open up to the possibility of loving another again. And then Regina had swooped into his life, the same way that wretched witches flying beasts had, and stolen his heart right out from under him. Though if he’s honest, he knows he’d given it to her willingly. He hadn’t stood a chance from that first snarky retort.

The end result remains the same, however, and Robin is incapable of turning those feelings off. After even the short amount of time apart they had managed, he knows that he would never survive cutting her out of his life, the thought too painful to even contemplate. That’s what had driven him to her arms in the first place. There’s no going back for them. “But I don’t know what to do, Regina. I will not forget you to save Marian. I just can’t do it. I want you.”

Regina’s heart squeezes painfully in her chest at his confession, torn between elation and bitter heartache. For what she would have given to hear him say those words to her under better circumstances, with both of them free to follow their heart’s desire. The universe is determined to keep every meager measure of happiness from her grasp though it seems.

Suddenly, the heat of his skin seeping into hers, the smell of pine surrounding her and the soft cadence of his voice so near to her ear is too much. She can’t take it or the pain and wonder that accompanies such closeness any longer. She pushes away from him, rolling over and sitting up in bed, the soft silk sheets falling to her waist as her knees draw up. Perhaps she should be more concerned with her nudity, but what’s the point? Robin’s reached depths inside her far deeper than that of merely her flesh.

Hesitantly, his hand reaches over to stroke down her spine, “Regina…” his voice is soft and concerned, and she has to fight the onslaught of tears that have welled up in her eyes. She refuses to let them fall, is stronger than that. She is not weak, and it seems it’s going to be up to her to fulfill the role of moral pillar this go around. And isn’t the irony in that just perfect?

Shrugging off his hand with an arch of her back, Regina shakes her head and scoots off the bed, moving to find a robe to cover herself from the closet of this hidden room in her vault. The one that’s been her escape in Storybrooke when she’s needed it over the years. Of course, that’s where they’d come for all of their intimate nights together, stored away from the outside world here. It seems they can’t hide from reality within these walls any longer though.

“Robin, don’t,” she finally tells him, voice much steadier than she feels. “I know you care for me, that perhaps we could have had something real in another life,” her voice chokes just a little at that, thinking of pixie dust and taverns and long forgotten second chances.

The mattress squeaks behind her and Regina turns back around to face the bed just in time to see him sitting up as well. The sight takes her breath away as she glances at his bare chest and the rumpled sheets covering him from the waist down. It’s the crease between his eyebrows and the utterly distraught look on his face that slices through her thin façade. “Care for you?” Robin questions, almost angrily in his offence before he drops his biggest bomb yet. “Regina, I love you. I am so incredibly in love with you I can’t breathe without you anymore.”

It steals her own breath from her lungs, makes her heart ache painfully in her chest. He’s alluded to it before, when Marian had first been frozen, but this is the first time he’s said it in so many words, so definitely. And maybe she is weak after all because Regina loses her battle with tears then, trails of them running rivers down her cheeks as she wraps her arms tightly around her waist and shakes her head in defence of this onslaught of emotions.

Robin’s standing instantly, rushing across the room to wrap her up in his arms without a care for modesty, burying her face in his chest as he cups the back of her head and whispers soothing nothings into her hair. The two of them stand there for several minutes, Regina purging herself of all the pent up emotions she’s suppressed the last few weeks. “Shhhh. It’s alright, my love. It’s going to be okay,” Robin whispers to her, rocking them a bit, just as he’d soothe Roland when he’s upset.

She scoffs at that, drawing back enough to look into those endless blue eyes that she could drown in every day for the rest of her life and be totally content. “How? How is any of this going to be alright, Robin?”

His hand slides up her spine, lifting to brush a stray lock of her mused bed hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Because we are going to find a solution. I don’t know what, but together we can figure out a way to right things. We’ll find a way to unfreeze Marian, and then I’m going to tell her my true feelings and we’ll work it out.”

He sounds so certain, so confident in his convictions that Regina nearly believes it could be so easy. Robin cups her jaw in his palm, thumb stroking gently across her skin as he repeats reverently, “I love you, Regina. Marian or no Marian that isn’t going to change, and I refuse to live my life as a lie. Not anymore. I don’t want to sneak around or hide what I feel for you. I want to love you openly and whole heartedly for everyone to see.”

It seems to good to be true, this incredible, wonderful, loving man can not possibly be choosing her. Yet here he stands, arms locked around her, looking at her as if she’s his entire world when he should be anywhere else and her heart is weak, or maybe just too resilient for her own good, because she believes him.

And who is she to deny either of them what they really want any longer?

“Okay,” she murmurs, giving up the fight against her own heart and his.

Robin’s breath whooshes out of him, his muscles relaxing instantly. Still, he can’t help but question, “Okay?”

Regina nods, swallowing another onslaught of tears that well up in her throat. “Okay,” she repeats. “I believe you. I don’t understand it, or how you could possibly love me more than her, but I’m tired of fighting this — of being the better person.” She lifts one shoulder and settles one of her palms over Robin’s heart, the organ beating steadily beneath her hand and comforting her immensely. “Turns out I’m just as selfish as everyone’s always said and I want you too much...”

He shakes his head immediately, cupping her face in both his hands as he tells her, “Not at all, milady. You are the most extraordinary, stunning woman I’ve ever met. You deserve to be happy, to get what you want. Perhaps it’s a bit presumptuous of me to assume that might include me.”

“It does,” Regina assures him instantly, interrupting him with a small smile, just the corners of her mouth tipping up.

Robin’s own grin begins to form, a slight smirk gracing his features as he tells her for a third time, “I love you. With all of my heart and soul.”

Fear and anxiety are a hard knot in her stomach as she gazes up at him. But his hands are still warm against her cheeks, his body close and his eyes reassuring in the depth of his feelings as she looks deeply into them. So Regina encircles his wrists with her fingers and takes a leap of faith, testing the fates as she whispers back, “I love you, too.”

The smile that erupts on Robin’s face makes her heart flutter, bursting inside her chest as he swoops in and covers her mouth with his. Everything about it feels right, despite the wrongness of the situation. The two of them make sense and it’s time they both stop trying to pretend otherwise.

It takes almost no effort at all for Robin to coerce her back into bed, settling back amongst the mountain of pillows and sinking into the mattress, into each other again, getting lost in the exquisite feel of their bodies and souls joining together. Languid kisses and soft skin, quiet sighs and strangled moans as they bring each other to bliss yet again.

It takes them another few weeks. Endless nights and days pouring over every single magical book and potion she possess, a few desperate conversations with The Dark One, but eventually they find a spell that works. One that melts the frigid ice from Marian’s crystalized form until she’s warm blooded and fully herself again, heart and all.

The conversation Robin must have with her then isn’t easy, and she’s confused, hurt and heartbroken that her husband isn’t the same man she remembers, the one who would have moved heaven and Earth to be with her, would have walked through fire just to have her standing at his side again. But true to the woman he’d fallen in love with in the first place, she eventually grows understanding, would never do anything to keep him from being happy, and as hard as it is to accept, that happiness lies with the queen now.

Things are a bit awkward and uncomfortable between the three of them at first, but gradually she begins to get to know Regina, discovers the qualities about her that Robin had fallen for in the first place and she and Regina fall into a bit of a tentative friendship, much to the shock of both of them.

With everything out in the open now, Regina and Robin have a chance to truly start to form a life together. There’s weeks of breakfast dates at Granny’s, afternoons spent in the park with their sons, and evenings cuddled together by the fire. Gradually, she begins to trust in their relationship, in their love for each other, and Regina begins to believe that this time might just be different. That she’s finally repented enough to deserve her happy ending.

That’s when Robin and Roland move from the Merry Men’s camp into the mansion, when the four of them finally become the family she’s always craved. Her and Henry, Robin and Roland, and the happily ever after that’s always been just beyond her grasp. Until now.

#brookeap3 writing #outlaw queen #oq ff #OQHappyEndingWeek #oq fan fiction #oq fan fics #oq fanfic #regina and robin #regina and robin hood #robin and regina #Regina Mills #robin hood #oq

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torestoreamends · 7 years

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Moramortia: Chapter 9

Albus, Scorpius, and Rose pay a visit to the headmistress’s office, and Rose makes her first mistake.

Read it on AO3 / Pick a chapter

Chapter IX Riddles and Clues

His clothes are wet, that’s the first thing he realises. Soggy and damp and heavy. And cold. He’s very cold. His fingers feel icy and… they’re trailing in water too. Why is it so wet?

It takes considerable effort but he opens his eyes, squinting against the light. Above him he can see a floating candle, bright and golden. He blinks. There were no candles in the Chamber of Secrets. Does that mean he’s somewhere else? But where? How?

Suddenly an intense pain seizes hold of his heart and he gasps and rolls onto his side, coughing and clutching at his chest. Immediately there are hands on him, holding him still.

“Scorpius!” Albus’s voice. Breathless and panicking. “I’ve got you. Here.”

Something glass presses against his lips and liquid dribbles down his chin before he realises he’s supposed to be drinking. He starts gulping it down and immediately a sort of cold numbness floods through him. He shivers but keeps drinking, because it does feel better. He drains the bottle and lies still for a moment, head in Albus’s lap, Albus’s fingers threading gently through his damp hair, waiting for the potion to take effect.

Finally the pain fades to a dull gnawing that he can ignore, and he lifts his head and twists round. “Where- This is Myrtle’s bathroom."

"I know,” Albus says, smoothing his hands over Scorpius’s shoulders. “Just… Lie still, okay?"

"I’m fine. The potion, it works fast.” Scorpius scrambles onto his knees, arms and legs almost too weak to hold him, but far too determined to let that stop him. Albus’s hands linger anxiously, ready to support him if he falls.

“How did we get here?” Scorpius asks.

“Rose did… something,” Albus says. “I was a bit preoccupied."

Scorpius nods. "I’m sorry.” He rubs his eyes and looks around. Rose is kneeling in the doorway with the Marauder’s Map open on her lap, frowning down at it. Myrtle is currently nowhere to be seen, although there’s a gurgling and sighing sound coming from one of the cubicles.

“No, I just wanted you out of there. Didn’t want to spend any more time down there…” He looks at Scorpius, and Scorpius looks back to see concern sparkling in his eyes. “Are you okay?"

"Better,” Scorpius says, rubbing the heel of his hand against his chest. “Did you get the teeth we needed?"

Albus pats the bag on his back. "They’re safe in here.”

“Good.” Scorpius rubs his forehead and only then does he realise the Gauntlet is gone. “Where did the-”

“It sort of… Melted into the ground. After the barrier disappeared and you passed out…”

“Fine,” Scorpius says, nodding. He still feels so lost, his brain struggling to catch up with everything it’s missed. “That’s fine. I didn’t want to keep it anyway.”

He sways a bit on his knees. The room is spinning just a little bit, enough to make him feel unsteady, like he can’t get a grasp on the world. He puts both his hands flat on the floor to support him, but as he presses his right hand down he feels pain burn through it.

He hisses and hastily withdraws it from the floor. When he turns it over, he sees there’s still a long, red gash across his palm. It’s not bleeding anymore, but it doesn’t look great. He’s not sure if he’s capable of doing magic right now, but he draws his wand to have a go. He waves it over the cut, murmuring a string of words that make it seal up into a thin, pink line. Tiredness floods through him, and the world slides sideways. He doesn’t realise he’s falling until Albus’s arms wrap around him and hold him up.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be doing magic right now,” Albus says softly.

“Maybe,” Scorpius agrees. He puts his wand away and lies in Albus’s arms for a moment, just because it’s easier than sitting up for himself. “What’s the plan now?"

Albus hesitates for a moment. "I don’t know if you should be thinking about-”

Scorpiis glares at him. They don’t have time for Albus to get overprotective and cautious now. They have things to do.

Albus sighs in response. “Fine. We’re waiting until the coast is clear, and then we’re breaking into McGonagall’s office.”

“Okay…” Scorpius says slowly. He frowns, thinking hard, trying to work out if he’s missed something obvious in his exhausted state. “Why?"

"What’s one of the ingredients we still need?” Albus asks.

Scorpius shakes his head. “Most of them?"

"Phoenix tears!” Albus says triumphantly. He smiles, seeming to expect some kind of recognition from Scorpius.

Scorpius looks blankly at him, and he sighs.

“There’s only one person we know who ever had a Phoenix."

Realisation dawns on Scorpius, and he sits up, flailing in excitement, all pain and tiredness forgotten. "Dumbledore! We’re going to talk to his portrait?"

Albus grins and nods. "If anyone knows where Fawkes has gone, it’ll be him. We have to start somewhere, right? The only problem is that our parents are here.”

Scorpius’s heart stops. “My dad is in the castle?”

“Not anymore,” Rose says from where she’s sitting in the doorway. She looks up from the Map. “They’ve all just disappeared. I don’t know where they’ve gone though.” She gets to her feet and walks across to them. “I’m glad you’re awake. I was worried you might… well, anyway.” She pats him on the arm and turns to show Albus the Map. “Look, they were in McGonagall’s office, and now they’re all gone. It looks like she’s heading down to the Great Hall.” She looks between the two of them. “I’d say this is as good a time as any."

"And we’re just going to break into her office?” Scorpius asks. “Is that even possible? Do we know the password?"

Rose waves a dismissive hand. "The password is easy. I visited her last week, and it only changes about once a month. We’ll have to be quick though; I don’t know how long she’ll stay away.”

Albus looks at Scorpius. “Do you feel okay to-”

“Yes,” Scorpius says before he can even ask. “I do. Come on.” He gets to his feet, holding the edge of one of the sinks for support, but trying not to be too obvious about it. His legs still feel wobbly, but he thinks he can manage. When he pushes away from the sink, Rose takes hold of his arm.

“We’re going under the Cloak,” she says. “Since it’s the middle of the night and you’re meant to be in St Mungo’s. I’d rather not be expelled, and if we just go wandering around the school someone will see us and this whole thing will be over.”

Scorpius nods. “Agreed."

He certainly doesn’t mind slipping under the cloak. It’s warm under there, especially with Albus and Rose pressed in close beside him. Albus wraps an arm round his waist, and he leans against Albus’s side. Rose keeps hold of his arm, and he’s grateful to have the support from both sides. Even though his legs are weak and stiff from recent underuse, the two of them are giving him the strength to keep going, almost to the point where he can pretend, even to himself, that there’s nothing wrong.

"Do you think there’s a chance any of the heads’ portraits will raise the alarm?” He whispers as they leave the bathroom and set off up to McGonagall’s office, tiptoeing along the corridor.

“It’s definitely possible,” Rose murmurs. “The ones who know you and your dad seem the most likely to tell. We’ll just have to be quick. In and out. No hanging around."

Scorpius nods in silence. He feels a bit apprehensive about the idea of breaking into McGonagall’s office. The information will be useful, and it’ll be amazing to talk to Dumbledore, but at the same time it’s such a risk. He doesn’t want to get caught. If they get caught… He has a feeling it would be bad. Even through the cold numbness of the painkilling potion, he can feel an ache in his chest. His whole body feels weak and shaky, and he isn’t sure either thing is going to improve. Whatever Dumbledore tells them, it had better be really useful.

After ten long, stressful minutes spent creeping through castle, all three of them wincing every time a staircase or door creaks too loudly in the silence, they make it to McGonagall’s office. Rose glances around to check the coast is clear before she slips out from under the Cloak and walks over to the gargoyle guarding the entrance.

It’s raining outside, drumming hard on the castle windows, and wind rattles the glass, pushing through the gaps and sending chilly gusts down the corridor. Rose leans in close to the gargoyle and whispers: "Ginger Newt”. Despite all the noise, it still sounds painfully loud in the deserted darkness. Scorpius glances around, anxious and twitchy, but there’s no sign of anyone, and no approaching footsteps to be heard. There isn’t even anyone else on this side of the castle according to the Map, which Albus has open and is inspecting by the light of his wand.

Thankfully, the gargoyle unfreezes and springs aside to let them in, so they don’t have to stand exposed in the corridor any longer. The three of them rush past before it can change its mind and step onto the staircase to McGonagall’s office. It ascends far too slowly for Scorpius’s liking. He pulls the cloak off and shifts from foot to foot, staring into the air, willing them upwards. Beside him, Albus also fights his way out from under the cloak and shoves it into his backpack.

“Do you think McGonagall knows when someone uses the password to her office?” Scorpius muses as they rise.

Albus looks at Rose, who nods, somehow looking serenely calm.

“Undoubtedly."

"Merlin,” Albus mutters.

“We’ll be quick,” Rose says brightly.

It feels like an age before they reach the office door, and by the time they reach it they’re all standing on the top step, desperate to get inside. They spill through the door the second they reach it, and Albus and Rose rush straight across the room, towards the biggest painting, just to the side of McGonagall’s chair. Meanwhile, Scorpius pauses by the door to have a proper look around.

He’s only ever visited this room on a handful of occasions, most of them under less than brilliant circumstances, or on Prefect business. It’s a shame, because it’s a joy to be here. There’s so much history, so many interesting books and artefacts, not to mention the possibility of fascinating conversations courtesy of the portraits on the walls. This place has played host to some of the greatest witches and wizards to ever live. It’s full of inspiration, and if this is the last time Scorpius will ever be here then he’s going to enjoy himself.

He wanders over to one of the bookshelves and runs a finger along the spines. It isn’t quite as exciting as the shelf in Hermione’s office, nothing will ever top that, but there are some fascinating old books here. There’s one dusty, leather-bound tome about Animagi, which he’s about to pull out, but a bored, drawling voice speaks from the wall above him, drawing his attention.

“Scorpius Malfoy. If it isn’t my great great, Merlin only knows how many greats, grandson. You’re supposed to be in St Mungo’s."

Scorpius stumbles away from the bookcase and stares wildly up at the portraits on the wall. There are so many up there that it takes him a second to spot the headmaster speaking to him, but when he does he grins. "Phineas!"

Phineas Nigellus doesn’t look even a little bit pleased to see him. He folds his arms and surveys Scorpius with a haughty expression. "Your father was just here, boy. He’s very worried about you. Very keen to find you. He seems to think you’re dying.” He leans forward in his seat and peers down at Scorpius. “Are you dying?"

"I hope not,” Scorpius says, looking back at him. “Sir, please don’t tell Dad I’m here. It’s important."

Phineas ignores Scorpius’s plea. "Why are you here?” He asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice, even though he’s feigning indifference.

“We’re here to talk to Dumbledore,” Scorpius says.

Phineas sighs and sits back in his seat. “Of course. Everyone is here to speak to Dumbledore."

"It’s nice to see you too!” Scorpius says.

“No, it’s not.” Phineas nods in Dumbledore’s direction. “Go and get on with your chat, boy. You don’t have long.” There’s something in his tone that sends a shiver down Scorpius’s spine. It sounds almost like a threat, and there’s a hint of a nasty smile in it. Scorpius doesn’t waste another second as he scrambles across the room to join Albus and Rose.

Professor Dumbledore is already awake. He’s talking to Albus, twinkling down at him, while Albus looks a bit uncomfortable. He’s gone pink and is shifting his feet like he’s considering running away.

“I always found it to be an excellent name,” Dumbledore says brightly. “Not too long or too short, not overly complicated to spell. Highly convenient. And I hope my impact upon it doesn’t have adverse consequences for yourself.”

Albus mumbles something and stares down at the floor.

Dumbledore smiles kindly at him. “I’ve always thought one should have a chance to make one’s own name famous, but alas, as there are far more people in the world than names, that is often easier said than done."

Scorpius steps up beside Albus and gives him a gentle nudge. "Um, hi!” he squeaks, trying not to be intrusive but far too aware that Dumbledore is right there.

Dumbledore’s piercing blue eyes turn from Albus to Scorpius. “Ah. You must be Scorpius Malfoy. Now that is certainly a name you have complete control of.”

Scorpius’s heart is racing and he’s not sure he knows how to breathe anymore. He’s never had chance to speak to Dumbledore properly before. He gives him a little wave, then clasps his hands behind his back to try and keep them under control as he bounces on the tips of his toes. “It’s an honour to meet you, sir,” he says, very fast and very high-pitched, giving Dumbledore a half bow.

“Likewise,” Dumbledore says, inclining his head in return.

Not for the first time, Scorpius is thankful that Albus knows him so well, because as soon as he feels like he might collapse on the floor with excitement, a hand closes around his waist and holds him up. He pats Albus gratefully on the back, fans himself with his hand, and grins up at Dumbledore, so wide that his cheeks are starting to hurt.

“Sir,” he says breathlessly, “I always wondered… The seventh use of Dragon’s Blood. Was that an accidental discovery? Because in your book, you said-"

"Scorpius,” Albus mutters, nudging him.

Scorpius nudges Albus in return and looks up at Dumbledore.

“I suppose,” Dumbledore says, “if by accidental you mean that my elbow slipped and knocked the vial of Dragon’s Blood into the container of coagulant, thus forming the resultant elixir… then yes, I rather think it was an accident.”

“Wow!” Scorpius squeaks.

“Honestly,” Dumbledore continues. “I’m rather amazed it was never discovered before. My mistake was one anyone could have made.” His eyes sparkle as he smiles down at Scorpius. “But thankfully, I seem to have been the first person with both the skill to identify what had happened, and the brains to write it down succinctly.”

Scorpius feels like he’s about to explode. He’s never been so excited. A hundred questions pop into his mind all at once. “And when you-”

“Sir,” Albus says softly, cutting Scorpius off before he can get going on a tirade. “Um. I’m sorry, but we didn’t just come here to talk about your discoveries-"

"As amazing as they were,” Rose adds diplomatically.

“Right,” Albus agrees. “Well, we did actually have a question for you."

Dumbledore surveys the three of them over the top of his half-moon glasses. "I’ll admit, I did think it a little… over-committed to break into the headmistress’s office in the dead of night, risking quite serious trouble, just to talk to me about Dragon’s Blood.” He smiles at them. “How may I help you?"

Albus glances at Scorpius, then looks back at Dumbledore. "We’re looking for your Phoenix."

"Fawkes,” Scorpius adds.

Albus nods. “We need some Phoenix Tears, you see. We, um… there’s a potion. We’re brewing this potion, and we need Phoenix Tears for it. But Fawkes is the only one we know about, so…” he trails off, and Scorpius glances over to see him looking desperately up at the portrait.

“We were wondering if maybe you would know where we could find him,” Scorpius finishes, with a hopeful smile.

Dumbledore sighs, some of the twinkle in his eyes fading as he shakes his head. “Alas, the thing you’ve come here to ask is something I do not know the answer to."

"But you have to help!” Albus steps forward, and when he speaks his voice is tight, like he’s on the verge of tears. “Please, sir. If there’s anything you know at all… It’s for Scorpius. He’s sick. He might be dying, and this is the only thing that can help. We need this. We’re counting on you."

He’s glaring at Dumbledore, shoulders squared, determined. Like he’s going to get the answers through sheer force of will and desperation. Scorpius has seen the force of Albus’s will reduce solid objects to dust, conjure Patronuses bright enough to make the sun look dull in the sky, and create concoctions that could kill a person or restore them to full health. He’s certain Albus could move mountains and part seas if he put his mind to it. But Dumbledore is the greatest wizard to have ever lived, and if anyone can say no to Albus then it’s him.

Scorpius turns his back on the portrait, and on Albus, and digs his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t want to see his boyfriend’s terrible disappointment. His own is hard enough to deal with.

McGonagall’s desk is littered with papers and books. There’s a diagram of the school there; all sorts of letters on official-looking parchment. There’s even one letter from St Mungo’s. A letter about him. Reporting his disappearance, and expressing deep concern for his wellbeing.

He bows his head and scuffs the toe of his shoe on the floor. If this is it, if it’s all over, he doesn’t want to go back to St Mungo’s. Maybe he can come back to school for a bit before the end. Maybe he can go to his classes, eat in the Great Hall, curl up at night in Albus’s bed, everything he usually does, and just be normal for a few days. If he has to die anywhere, he’d rather it be here.

"Well,” Dumbledore says from behind him, tone still light despite the gravity of the situation. “I may not know exactly where you can find Fawkes now, but I always did enjoy visiting the Hebrides. Admittedly, they were a little cold and wet on occasion, but the island of Jura in particular had some rather excellent mountains. They offer quite a spectacular view on sunny days, as I recall."

Scorpius glances round to see Dumbledore beaming down at them now. Rose and Albus glance at each other, then they both look at Scorpius.

Rose hesitates for a second, then looks back at the portrait. "So… you think Albus and Scorpius should go to this island?"

"It’s the sort of place I think I would have liked to retire to,” Dumbledore replies, apparently ignoring the question. “Being remote enough that people would have had great difficulty contacting me, but also not being entirely inaccessible."

"Phoenixes live in mountainous terrain, don’t they?” Albus asks quietly, glancing at Scorpius. Both he and Rose nod together, and Dumbledore smiles.

“Of course,” he says, eyes twinkling, “this is pure speculation. I don’t know exactly where Fawkes is. He could be in Egypt, or Tibet, or really anywhere. A visit to Jura may be a waste of time that you don’t seem to have. However, it may also be rather fruitful."

"Go,” Rose murmurs, turning to the other two. “It’s the best we’ve got, isn’t it? And an island can’t be too big. It won’t take as long to search as if you were wandering randomly through the Highlands."

"We’ll Floo to your house,” Albus says to Scorpius. “It’s big enough that even if your dad is there we’ll be able to sneak through without him seeing. And then once we get out, we can Apparate to this island.”

Scorpiis looks dubious. “It’s a bit of a long way from Wiltshire to the Hebrides. Have you ever Apparated that far before? I don’t think I have…"

"I can do it,” Albus says, full of confidence. “I’ve been up there before so I know where I’m going. Once we’re there, we’ll find Fawkes and everything will be fine. Like you said, Rose, the island can’t be too big. We can do this.” He looks directly at Scorpius, and his eyes glitter with life and determination. “We can do this."

It’s impossible not to believe him. "Alright,” Scorpius says.

“Is there anything else I can help you three with before you set off on this daring adventure?” Dumbledore asks.

Scorpius shakes his head. “No. Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure to talk to you."

"The pleasure was all mine,” Dumbledore says, inclining his head politely to each of them in turn. “Now, I don’t wish to alarm you, but I think I can hear the stairs moving again. The Headmistress seems to be returning, and I think it’s time to take your leave. I wish you the best of luck."

The next few seconds are pure chaos. Albus summons a pouch of Floo Powder from the depths of his backpack. Rose hugs him, and then Scorpius. She squeezes Scorpius tightly, and murmurs: "I’m going to see you again. I know I am.” Scorpius can’t find the words to reply, so he just squeezes her in return and closes his eyes against the sting of tears.

A few seconds later, she releases him and starts shoving him towards the fire. He goes, because she’s impossible to argue with, but before he steps inside he catches hold of her hand.

“Rose-”

“Go on,” she says, pushing him away.

“Goodbye,” he says, one foot in the emerald flames, the other planted firmly on the hearth rug.

She shakes her head. “See you later. Have fun.” She kisses him on the cheek, then she gives him one final push, and he steps into the fire.

His last glimpse of Hogwarts shows him Professor McGonagall bursting through the door into the office, and Rose turning resignedly to face her.

—

“Miss Granger-Weasley,” Professor McGonagall thunders. Her tartan dressing gown swirls around her, and her hair is escaping from its severe bun. Somehow she looks even more intimidating this way, and Rose shuffles her feet and pushes an innocent smile onto her face as she blocks the fireplace from view.

“Hi, Professor,” she says.

McGonagall strides across the room. “It is the middle of the night and you are up here without permission. I hope you have an excellent explanation for this."

Rose glances over her shoulder at the fire. The flames are now crackling their usual red and yellow again, no more emerald. The boys should be safe now. She shuffles a step to the side, trying to come up with a plausible lie.

"I was told,” McGonagall continues, “that there were three people up here.” She stops beside her desk and rests a hand on it. Somehow it lends her even more authority, and Rose struggles to hold the piercing gaze she’s now being fixed with. “I don’t suppose you would happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Th-three people?” Rose asks, trying to arrange her face into a surprised expression. “No, I don’t think so… Who were the other two people meant to be?"

McGonagall removes her glasses and sets them down on the table, then she gestures at one of the seats opposite. "Sit down, Rose."

Rose twists her hands together and drags her feet as she crosses to the chair. She perches on the edge of the seat, certain that absolutely nothing good can come from this conversation. Around the walls, every single one of the portraits is awake and watching them. Rose can feel the weight of their gaze on her. She straightens herself up and tries to look confident, like she belongs here. She tries to sit the way her mum does in meetings, tall and authoritative. When she glances up she meets Dumbledore’s eyes, and he gives her the briefest flash of a smile before fixing his gaze on McGonagall’s back. Somehow that smile gives Rose heart, and she lifts her chin and fixes her eyes on the headmistress.

"I received this,” McGonagall says, picking a letter up from the desk. “From St Mungo’s.” She eyes Rose. “Do you know what it says?"

Rose hesitates, then shakes her head, doing her best to look curious and a little apprehensive. "No. No, I don’t.”

“It says that Scorpius Malfoy has gone missing from his room."

"Missing?” Rose gasps, letting her eyes go wide. “But how- But he might- Where has he gone?"

"We don’t know,” McGonagall says, putting the letter back down. “All we know is that Scorpius and Albus were together this evening, in Scorpius’s room at the hospital, and about half an hour after they were last seen, they were discovered missing.”

“But that’s-” Rose shakes her head, and prays that she’s doing a good enough job here. “He was safe in St Mungo’s. He was getting better… Why would he run away? Why would Albus let him? I don’t understand…”

McGonagall folds her arms on the desk, leaning forward a little in her seat. “I was hoping that that might be something you could tell me.” She takes a breath and lowers her voice. Rose gets the impression that she’s trying her best not to sound suspicious. “I know that you are friends with Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about their plans? Where they might be going? What they’re up to? I don’t suppose you would have met them in the school tonight to help them with anything?"

"Met them here?” Rose asks, trying to sound surprised. “I don’t know- They were in the school? Tonight? I didn’t know! I would have-” She takes a deep breath and thinks about the sight of Scorpius spinning away in the emerald flames. It could be the last time she ever sees him alive. She already misses him.

“I-I would have liked to see them,” she says, letting the emotion filter into her voice. She can’t really help it right now, and even if she could she wouldn’t because it’ll be more convincing this way. “I haven’t seen Scorpius properly in weeks.” There are tears stinging her eyes; she doesn’t blink them away as she looks up at Professor McGonagall, and she knows her eyes are sparkling with sadness in the candlelight. “I’ve missed not having him around.” A couple of tears spill down her cheeks, and she brushes them away hurriedly, making a show of sniffing and trying to hide how upset she is.

Unfortunately, McGonagall doesn’t seem convinced. She gives a quiet sigh and sits back in her chair. “Rose, I understand you wanting to protect your friends. Your mother and father would have done the same. But this is a matter of life and death. Scorpius is in a very serious condition. He may well die if we don’t find him soon. So I will ask you again, whether you-"

She breaks off as a whoosh of rushing wind starts up in the fireplace across the room. Emerald light flashes as the flames roar, and Draco Malfoy steps out, fists clenched, set with determination.

"Where are they?” He asks, marching across the room.

McGonagall stares at him, and Rose’s heart sinks. He knows they were here. One of the portraits must have told him.

“Did you stop them?” He demands, walking right up to the desk. “Where are Albus and Scorpius?"

McGonagall gets to her feet. "Draco, I thought you were at home.”

Draco points across the room at one of the portraits. “Phineas told me they were here, all three of them. That Scorpius was here. Are you telling me they’ve gone again?"

McGonagall blinks at him, then turns her gaze on Rose. Piercing, and just a little bit terrifying. "Explain yourself."

Rose looks between the two of them and know she’s trapped. "Okay,” she says, holding her hands up. “Okay. So maybe I heard they were in the castle. Someone spotted them outside the Great Hall, and this is the only fireplace you can get out of when everything’s locked down, so this is where I came.” She gives a little flourish of her hands, indicating the room around her. “I wanted to stop them. I thought I could- But they seemed so set on… I don’t know what they’re doing, but when they said they needed to get out of the castle… I had to help them! They’re my friends. And they told me that whatever it is they’re up to, that it might make Scorpius better.” She lets tears well up in her eyes again and sniffs. “I want him to be well. I want him to get better. I want my friend back."

"You’re lying,” Draco snaps, drawing his wand. “You do know where they are. You’ve been working with them this whole time. If you helped them to escape-"

"Draco!” McGonagall says indignantly. “Put that away. I won’t let you threaten my students.” She glares at Draco until he slips the wand back into his pocket, then she turns to Rose. “Miss Granger-Weasley. You are my Head Girl, and I know you understand the consequences of breaking the rules. You have already lied to me this evening, and if you do so again now you will be in very serious trouble. Do you understand that?"

Rose swallows and meets McGonagall’s eyes, brushing a couple of tears from her cheeks. "Yes, Professor."

"Good. In light of that, is there anything you wish to tell us about where we can find Scorpius and Albus?"

Rose thinks very hard, then she shakes her head. She wipes her eyes on her sleeve and looks down at her hands, and she doesn’t have to fake the way they’re trembling. "N-no, Professor. I don’t know where they’ve gone.” It’s not a total lie. She doesn’t know exactly where they are now. They’re planning to go to Jura but if something goes wrong with the Apparition, or if they can’t make it the whole way in one go… they could be anywhere.

McGonagall scrutinises her for a moment longer before straightening up and looking at Draco. “I saw no sign of them when I got here. If they came this way then they left before I returned."

Draco turns his back on both her and Rose, shaking his head in disbelief. "What is the point of having the school on lockdown if they can still escape?"

"My office was locked,” McGonagall says softly. “The only people trusted with the password are my fellow teachers and the Head Boy and Girl. Any other student wouldn’t have been able to get in."

Draco turns to shoot Rose a venomous look. "Then perhaps you should rethink who you trust in positions of authority."

Professor McGonagall’s eyes blaze with intense rage and her nostrils flare. "I understand, Mr Malfoy, that you are very upset, but that does not give you the right to question my judgement around matters to do with this school. I trust both Miss Granger-Weasley and your son to maintain the security of Hogwarts. We are dealing with exceptional circumstances here, and you should understand that Rose will be punished for this.”

“As she should be,” Draco mutters.

McGonagall looks at Rose. “You will receive detention for this, and I will be writing to your parents.”

Rose nods and shuffles her feet. “Okay."

"Do you understand the gravity of your actions?"

Rose nods again. "Yes, Professor."

"Good. Then you are dismissed for tonight. I will be in touch tomorrow to arrange your detention. Now get out of here, and go straight to bed. If I find that you’ve wandered any further tonight you will be in much deeper trouble."

Rose nods for a third time and sprints for the door.

As she hurries past Draco, something flutters out of one of her pockets and falls to the ground. She turns to pick it up, and realises, to her horror, that her grimy, tattered copy of the Moramortia recipe is lying face up on the ground. She reaches down to snatch it up, but Draco gets there first.

He picks it up and is about to hold it out to her when he stops, eyes scanning the parchment.

"What’s this?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” she lies, and she can feel her cheeks burning. “I found it on the floor by the door when I was coming to find Albus and Scorpius, and I just… picked it up. I didn’t look at it."

Draco looks at her, and Rose doesn’t understand how eyes the colour of ice can seem so much like they’re on fire. "You just picked it up?"

She nods. "I thought it was rubbish, or… I don’t know.” She shrugs and twists her hands together. “Is it important?” She tries to keep her voice light and curious, and she hopes McGonagall and Draco can’t hear that it’s shaking.

Draco looks at her for a long moment, then he glances down at it. Rose watches his eyes as they flicker across the paper. It’s like seeing two brooms collide in slow motion. The impending doom of it, knowing exactly how this is going to end, in pain and disaster, is awful. Draco is already pale, but by the time he looks up again he’s gone sheet white, and his hands are shaking as they grip the parchment.

“Moramortia,” he says very quietly. “This was theirs. Albus and Scorpius’s. This is what-” He breaks off, holding the parchment out to McGonagall as he buries his face in one hand.

McGonagall takes it from him, and as she reads her eyes go wide with horror.

“This was on the floor?” She looks at Rose. “You picked this up?"

Rose swallows and nods. "Yes, Professor."

"This is what they think is wrong with him,” Draco says in a strangled voice. “With Scorpius. Not Astoria’s disease, but this- This awful thing.” He looks at McGonagall. “It says- it says it’s fatal."

"Basilisk Fangs,” McGonagall murmurs, still reading. “That’s why they were here. They were in the Chamber, and now they’re… Where are they now?"

"None of this means anything,” Draco spits in pure frustration. He pulls the parchment back to him, screwing it up as his fingers clench on it. “A sacrifice, a memory of love. These aren’t potions ingredients, they’re riddles. How is this supposed to help us find them?"

McGonagall puts a hand on Draco’s arm but he pulls it away. He thrusts the parchment at her and starts pacing through the office, black robes swirling in a whirlwind of anger and misery.

"Did you ever hear them talking about this?” McGonagall asks, gently smoothing the parchment out and looking at Rose. “Any plans? Anything at all?"

"I don’t know,” she lies, digging her hands into her pockets. “I mean… Albus was working on Healing Potions a lot, but we were doing them in class, and he always has projects. I didn’t hear them talking about anything to do with running away, or…” she trails off, trying to sound helpless. “Why didn’t they tell me?” She asks forlornly. “I’m supposed to be their friend.” She sniffs and shakes her head, burying her face in her hands once more.

“Rose,” McGonagall says kindly. “It’s been a long day. I think you should go to bed.”

Rose nods and draws in a gulping breath that she hopes sounds tearful. “Okay. Will you tell me if you find them? Please?"

"Of course,” McGonagall says. “Goodnight, Rose."

"Night Professor.” She looks at Draco, who has his back to her at the moment as he strides around the edge of the room. “Goodnight, Draco."

She makes a show of wiping her nose on her sleeve as she walks to the door, but as soon as she gets through it she flees. Down the stairs, out past the gargoyle, and when she hits the corridor she starts running flat out, heart pounding in her chest.

Draco knows everything, or, almost everything. He knows about the illness, about the potion. He knows that Albus and Scorpius have been in the Chamber. But he doesn’t know about Jura. He doesn’t know where they are now. He doesn’t even know which ingredient they’re looking for. They still have an advantage, and now they need to keep it.

One floor up from McGonagall’s office she slips into a bathroom and draws her wand. It’s dark and silent, apart from the constant dripping of a tap. The scudding grey clouds outside keep the moon at bay, so once the door has swung shut behind her, there’s no light for Rose to see by. But that doesn’t matter. She won’t be in the dark for long.

She raises her wand in front of her, thinks of her mum and Hugo laughing at her dad’s jokes, and murmurs: "Expecto Patronum”.

Immediately the bathroom is filled with blinding silver light, and she has to squint to see the pine marten standing on the edge of the sink, looking at her.

“Hi,” she whispers, not daring to be any louder. It may be the middle of the night but this place is full of ghosts and teachers who could hear her. “I need you to take a message to Albus and Scorpius. They’ll be somewhere in Scotland. You’ll find them.” She takes a breath. “I need you to tell them… Tell them this: ‘Draco knows about the potion, but not where you are. Don’t do anything stupid, and be careful when you come back from Jura. Good luck!’” She pauses for a second, considering the message, then she nods. “That’s it."

For a moment the pine marten looks at her, then it seems to understand that she’s done, because it springs lightly from the edge of the sink onto her shoulder. It brushes past her ear, like a breath of warm summer wind. She reaches up to touch it.

"Thank you,” she tells it, and its tail curls briefly round her neck before it leaps from her shoulder and vanishes into thin air. She turns to follow it, but the bathroom is plunged back into darkness again and she can’t see anything at all, except the pattern of the tiles directly beneath her feet, and the faint grey glow of the moon through the clouds beyond the window.

With a sigh she turns to the door, fumbles for the handle, and lets herself out. There’s nothing she can do now, except watch and wait, and hope that this doesn’t all go terribly wrong.

Next chapter >

#Harry Potter and the Cursed Child #Cursed Child #Cursed Child fic #Scorbus fic #Scorbus #Scorpius Malfoy #Albus Severus Potter #Rose Granger-Weasley #Albus Dumbledore #Draco Malfoy #Professor McGonagall #Keep The Secrets #Malfoy family feels #My writing #Moramortia #a normal length chapter hooray!#with some Draco feels #and some solo Rose

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