Before Hogwarts
The summer starts off alright, with Aero and Brian carrying messages almost daily. But something's shifted, Albus doesn't know what, and he's on edge. Maybe it's because Lily will start school in the fall, or because James has OWLs this year, but he feels more invisible than ever. When he does speak, sometimes the words come out as ridiculous squeaks or boom out deep, and he hates the laughter this brings and hates even more when Harry smothers it down and tries to look all sympathetic and like a good father would.
When they have gatherings with the Weasley clan, there are more questions about any pretty girls his age or whether he looks forward to asking a special girl to Hogsmeade. Even Albus' Grandpa Arthur puts in an affable comment or two about how nice it is to meet the love of your life while you're young. Albus tries to invent a crush for himself but when he pictures any of the girls in his year, then the year above and even the year below, none of them feel right. He has a few very confusing, very embarrassing dreams featuring a certain slim blond with large, laughing gray eyes but surely that's just friendship and he brushes the thoughts away.
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For Scorpius, the summer begins a lot like the last. He and his mother sit in the orangery to read and if he does more of the reading aloud and she needs heavier robes on her lap, he refuses to notice. When she gathers him close for their regular chats about the future, if she doesn't include herself in the picture he pretends not to hear what's missing. "It's a bad time, but then there'll be better times," he tells himself. Except there aren't and the bottom falls out of his world a few days before he's to return to Hogwarts. He can't find the words to write to Albus, can't find the words for anything, sometimes can't find the air to breathe.
When Draco suggests he should follow the school schedule and go back, Scorpius agrees dully. He accepts the bag of sweets Draco pushes into his hand without recognition and sinks down beside his trunk until Albus arrives.
"It's got the worst it can possibly get." Scorpius hears his own words echoing hollowly as though the station isn't full of hundreds of students and parents rushing to the train.
"I thought you’d send an owl…”
“I couldn’t work out what to say."
“And now I don’t know what to say."
“Say nothing!" Scorpius doesn't want empty words, he wants his MOTHER, with her open heart and open arms and laughter.
"Is there anything…” Albus begins, and before he knows what he's saying it's out of Scorpius' mouth: “Come to the funeral."
“Of course.”
“And be my good friend."
Later they'll eat sweets and if there's a catch in Scorpius' voice when he asks Albus to stay for his sweets, Albus pretends not to hear it. If Albus' voice cracks on the "Always" Scorpius only hears the reassurance. And if there's fresh graffiti on their trunks when they arrive in their dorm, neither of them notices, lost in their own thoughts.