Scorpius had always known he would be looked down upon by society. He always knew he would be bullied, called names, targeted, etc. He always knew that most people would believe the rumors about him being the son of Voldemort, or if they didn’t, they would refer to him as a “Death-Eater Spawn.”
But the one thing he didn’t know was that his best friend, and only friend, Albus Potter, son of Harry Potter, wouldn’t always be by his side.
Albus had been the first person to give Scorpius a chance, when no one else would. Yes, this may have resulted in Albus being bullied as well, but he didn’t care. He had Scorpius, and that was all he needed, right? Well, apparently not.
The words Albus said to Scorpius, “We’ll be better off without each other,” had pierced through his heart just like a dagger.
It was about 15 minutes ago that line had been said and Scorpius ran back to his dorm room, not letting any tears escape his eyes until he was alone and in his own room. Once he made it into the room, he shut the door and immediately choked on his sob, letting out a loud, painful noise. He covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stop himself from being so loud, as tears started to flow down his cheeks, making his entire face feel warm.
‘It’s all my fault,’ he thought to himself. ‘I ruined everything. What the fuck is wrong with me?!’ and before Scorpius knew it, he found himself ditching his bag, discarding his Slytherin robes onto the floor, and heading to the bathroom with his wand in hand. He knew exactly what he was going to do.
Punish himself. Just like he did after his mum died. He always blamed himself for her death, and he always would. He blamed himself being born for the tragic death of his mother, so he found himself punishing himself for it. But at least when that happened, he had Albus to console him, and he eventually stopped harming himself. But now he didn’t have Albus.
The blonde boy’s hands were shaking like crazy, as he pulled opened one of the cabinets in the bathroom, rummaging through it, until he finally found the box of razors. He opened the box, and shakily took one out, staring at it in the palm of his hand as his tears started forming even faster. He sat down on the hard, cold bathroom floor, and rested his head against the wall, sighing heavily, his breath coming out in ragged puffs.
After a few moments, he gathered up his breathing ever so slightly and pulled up his left sleeve and looked at the pale skin that lay under his shirt. Scorpius was so pale that any sort of cut, scrape, bruise, or blemish would be visible on his practically white skin, but that didn’t matter. The only people who ever paid him enough attention to notice something so minor were his parents and Albus. And now he was at Hogwarts, his dad wasn’t here, and his mum was dead, and Albus was in Gryffindor now, and would undoubtedly stay away from Scorpius at all costs.
Scorpius slowly opened his palm again, revealing the small, sharp, silver blade. He took another shaky breath, and then placed the blade against his skin. ‘3… 2… 1…’ he counted under his breath, before digging the blade into his skin, welcoming the familiar stinging feeling back like an old friend. He winced, but continued to dig the blade deeper, before taking it out, and moving it to a new spot on his forearm, repeating the same process. ‘3… 2… 1…’ stinging feeling, cut deeper, move on to a new spot. The boy continued repeating this for around 5 minutes, a few fresh tears rolling down his face, before finally stopping. He looked down at his forearm to see around a dozen deep slashes throughout it and drops of blood rolling down it. Scorpius breathed in and out shakily, sitting in silence for the next few minutes. He then put his right hand into his pocket and pulled out his wand. He watched in awe as one-by-one, tally marks were magically engraved onto his wand, noticeable on light color of the willow wood, marking each time he had harmed himself. At this point, there were too many to count. 12 or so new tallies joined the ones that had been there since his mum died. When he first got his wand, there were 11 tallies; from the 11 years he had longed to go to Hogwarts, and since then, the tallies have represented the times he had punished himself. His wand was truly the extension to his soul.