Chapter 32
In the quiet confines of Hogwarts' hospital wing, Albus lay asleep in his bed, his father Harry seated beside him, a troubled expression etched on his face. Above them, a portrait depicted a concerned and kindly man observing the scene. Harry, feeling the weight of exhaustion, rose from his chair and began to pace the room, seeking solace in movement. As he stretched his tired muscles, his gaze met with the painting, startling the figure within, and Harry in turn, felt a jolt of surprise.
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry uttered, breaking the silence that hung in the air.
"Good evening, Harry," came the calm reply from the portrait.
"I’ve missed you," Harry confessed, his voice heavy with longing. "Your frame has been empty whenever I've visited the headmistress lately."
Dumbledore offered a cryptic smile. "Ah, well, I do enjoy exploring my other portraits from time to time." His eyes then shifted to Albus. "Will he be alright?"
Harry sighed, his worry evident. "He's been unconscious for twenty-four hours, mostly to allow Madam Pomfrey to reset his arm. She described it as the strangest thing, as if it had been broken twenty years ago and set in the most awkward position. But she assures me he'll recover."
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "It must be difficult to see your child in pain."
Harry's gaze shifted from Dumbledore to his son lying in the bed. "I've never asked you how you felt about me naming him after you, have I?"
The portrait's response was candid. "Honestly, Harry, it felt like a heavy burden to place upon the boy."
Harry's tone turned urgent. "I need your guidance. Bane believes Albus is in danger. How do I protect him, Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore's response was sobering. "You ask me, of all people, how to protect a child from grave danger? We cannot shield the young from harm. Pain is inevitable."
"So I need just stand by and watch." Harry's frustration was palpable. "He needs to learn to be brave."
Dumbledore's gaze held steady. "You are meant to teach him how to confront life."
Harry frowned, grappling with Dumbledore's words. "I agree you, but he refuses to listen."
"Perhaps he's waiting for you to truly see him," Dumbledore suggested, his voice filled with wisdom. Harry furrowed his brow, attempting to grasp the weight of Dumbledore's words. "It is a portrait’s curse and blessing to... hear things," Dumbledore continued, his tone filled with sensitivity. "At the school, at the Ministry, I hear people talking..." "And what do you think about me and my son's relationships?" Harry interjected, his voice tinged with concern. Dumbledore's reply was measured, reflecting the wisdom of ages past. "That you two are struggling. That he’s difficult. That he is angry with you. I think he has betrayed you, violated the tradition that all Potters are Gryffindor." Harry's agreement hung heavy in the air. "I won't be surprised if he starts to be interested in Dark Arts." "You see him as he is, Harry," Dumbledore acknowledged. "You look for what’s wounding him." "Yes, I have seen him as he is," Harry affirmed, his thoughts drifting to the troubled figure of his son, Albus. Suddenly, a murmur interrupted their conversation. "Dad..." Albus muttered in his sleep, his voice barely audible. Harry's attention snapped to his son, but when he turned back to Dumbledore's portrait, the wise old wizard had vanished. "No, where have you gone now?" Harry questioned the empty space, his frustration palpable. "We’re in — the hospital wing?" Albus's voice broke through the confusion, grounding Harry in the present moment. "Yes. And you’re — you will be fine," Harry reassured his son, his thoughts racing. "For recuperation, Madam Pomfrey wasn’t sure what to prescribe and said you should probably eat lots of — chocolate. Actually, do you mind if I have some — ? I’ve got something to tell you and I don’t think you’ll like it."
Albus gazed at his father, waiting for his response, but Harry remained silent. Albus sighed inwardly, choosing to let the matter rest for now.
"Okay. I think," Albus finally spoke, uncertainty lacing his words.
Harry reached for some chocolate, devouring a sizable chunk, causing Albus to furrow his brow in confusion.
"Better?" Harry asked after swallowing.
"Much," Albus replied, accepting a piece of chocolate from his father. Together, they indulged in the sweet treat, a brief moment of peace between them.
"How's your arm feeling?" Harry inquired, his tone tinged with anger.
Albus flexed his arm before answering, "It feels great."
Harry's anger flared as he confronted his son, "Where did you go, Albus? I can't describe what it did to us. Your mum was beside herself with worry..."
Albus met his father's gaze, masking his true emotions behind a facade of innocence. "We decided we didn't want to return to school. We thought we could make a fresh start in the Muggle world. It was only when you found us that we realized our mistake."
"In Durmstrang robes?" Harry pressed, suspicion evident in his voice.
"The robes were... a mistake. Scorpius and I didn't think," Albus explained, his words carefully chosen.
"And why did you run? Was it because of me? Because I said the truth?" Harry demanded.
"Yes. Hogwarts isn't exactly welcoming when you don't fit in, especially for a Slytherin," Albus confessed, his gaze steady despite the turmoil within him.
"And did Scorpius encourage you to leave?" Harry's eyes bore into Albus, searching for the truth.
"No, Dad. Scorpius had nothing to do with it," Albus replied earnestly.
Harry studied his son intently, pondering the situation before speaking again, "I need you to stay away from Scorpius Malfoy."
"What? Scorpius?" Albus's disbelief was palpable.
"I don't know how you two became friends, but now I need you to..." Harry trailed off, unable to voice his concerns.
"My best friend? My only friend?" Albus interjected, his voice tinged with hurt.
"He's dangerous," Harry insisted.
"Scorpius? Dangerous? Dad, you're just being prejudiced. Slytherins aren't as evil as you think," Albus argued, defending his friend fiercely.
In the dimly lit room, Harry's voice was laced with urgency as he pleaded with his son, Albus. "I don’t know what he is, I just know you need to stay away from him," Harry warned, his tone strained with concern.
Albus, bewildered, questioned, "Who’s Bane?"
With a furrowed brow, Harry explained, "A centaur with profound Divination skills. He said there’s a black cloud around you..."
"A black cloud?" Albus interjected, his voice tinged with skepticism.
"Yes," Harry affirmed, his words quickening, "And I have very good reason to believe that Dark Magic is in a resurgence and I need to keep you safe from it. Safe from him. Safe from Scorpius."
Albus hesitated, grappling with his emotions, before steeling his resolve. "And if I won’t? Stay away from him? Scorpius isn't a Dark wizard."
Harry's gaze bore into his son, thoughts racing. "There’s a map," he began, his voice calculated. "It used to be used for those wanting to get up to no good. Now we’re going to use it to keep a permanent eye on you. Professor McGonagall will watch your every movement. Any time you are seen together — she’ll come flying — any time you attempt to leave Hogwarts — she’ll fly. I expect you to go to your lessons — none of which you will now share with Scorpius, and between times, you will stay in the Gryffindor common room!"
Albus recoiled, his allegiance to Slytherin evident. "You can’t make me go into Gryffindor! I’m Slytherin! You are evil!"
"Don’t play games, Albus," Harry retorted sternly. "If she finds you with Scorpius, I will fix you with a spell which will allow me eyes and ears into your every movement, your every conversation. In the meantime, investigations will begin in my department as to his true heritage."
Tears welled up in Albus's eyes as he protested, "But, Dad — you can’t — that’s just not... He is my only friend..."
Harry's expression softened, remorse flickering across his features. "I thought for a long time I wasn’t a good enough dad for you because you didn’t like me. It’s only now I realize that I don’t need you to like me, I need you to obey me because I’m your dad and I do know better. I’m sorry, Albus. It has to be this way."