Professor Potter

“Hello, Mr.Potter sir, It's a pleasure to meet you” Scorpius squeaked out, completely racked with nerves, sweating through his jumper like a sinner in church. Harry Potter was looking down upon him, staring daggers at the blonde. It wasn't any secret in the Potter household that Harry was not fond of Scorpius. Despite never actually meeting the boy before, his dislike was known, and it was made known often. It wasn't that he didn't trust his son’s judgment in those he chose to keep company with, it was that he couldn't bring himself to even tolerate the presence of a bloody Malfoy in his son’s life. He knew, just knew, despite the lack of proof that he was a bad influence on his son. He was positive he was infecting his kind-hearted boy with fascist pure-blood ideals. However, Harry knew he would either have to find any actual proof of this or get over his discomfort because if everything went well, he would be seeing a lot more of the boy soon. Still, it didn't matter how much his son ranted about how terrific Scorpius was. Or how many pages of Albus’s sketchbook were filled with sketches of his best friend. To Harry, he was just another Malfoy, and staring down at the blonde now, all he saw was just a chubby Draco.

“Are you here for something?” Harry's tone was sharper than he intended, but he didn't care.

“Oh, well Albus and I made plans to go to Diagon Alley today. But he didn't show up so I wanted to make sure he was okay.” He was flapping his hand on his left thigh, something he did when he was nervous, but he was trying to maintain eye contact with the older man. Whenever Albus talked about his dad he described the savior of the wizarding world as a kind-natured and lovable goofball. A man that would tell horrible dad jokes, make his kids smiley face pancakes the muggle way while wearing a pink “kiss the cook” apron, and would sob like a baby when dropping his children off for the Hogwarts Express every year. But looking at that same man now, Scorpius was reminded of who the father of his best friend actually was, his father's childhood rival, the man who killed Voldemort, and someone that had watched many loved ones die at the hand of his own family's allies. He was much more intimidating than Albus had ever described.

“And you were going to  Diagon Alley , not Knockturn Alley?”

“I would never go to Knockturn Alley, Mr.Potter.” Giving the blonde a look, he shifted his stance a bit, his hand went from holding the door open to stepping out of the threshold of his home and crossing his arms. Scorpius gulped.

“Whose sweatshirt is that?” Harry’s tone was accusatory as if Scorpius was borrowing his Hufflepuff jumper from death himself. 

“Uh, it's mine?” The Malfoy boy was confused by the question.

“So you're a Hufflepuff?” 

“Yes! I’m sure Albus had mentioned it at some point!”

“I don't think he has, he doesn't talk about you much.” That was a lie. Albus talked about Scorpius constantly. Harry knew that Scorpius was in Hufflepuff, he had known since Albus came home for Christmas in his first year and couldn't stop talking about him, and he still hasn't.

“Is Albus here?” 

“Yes, but he can't see you right now, he is very ill.” 

“Is he alright?” He questioned in a panicked tone. 

“He’s fine,” Harry stated in a deadpan tone, before shutting the door in the pale boy’s face.

…

Any Werewolf will tell you that Wolfsbane fever was the absolute worst. Some might even claim that it is more uncomfortable and painful than the transformations themselves. Albus thought that was debatable, but if you were to ask him at that moment he would probably agree. He was alternating between being incredibly overheated and freezing despite his high fever and the fact that it was eighty degrees outside. His bones ached, his head throbbed, and his muscles felt like they were on fire. That didn't even compare to the cramps in his stomach. Delirious and weak, he tried to sit up to sip the glass of water on his nightstand, but gave up, exhausted. He instead grabbed his strategically placed wand from beside his pillow and levitated a bit of water into his mouth. He wasn't supposed to do magic outside of school, but he was sure there wasn't a court in the land that would convict him. All in all, a great way to recover from the previous night's full moon, and an even better way to kick off the summer.

When he heard a light rapping on his window, from where was positioned in his room he could just barely see a mop of blonde hair and a pale face peering into his room.  ‘Is that Scorpius? ’ He used his wand to jinx his window open when Scorpius on a bloody broom came tumbling in, landing on his ass and with his broom flinging to the other side of the room, crashing down behind Albus’s wardrobe. The werewolf boy was only in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, but despite not having a binder he made no effort to cover himself, deciding that he felt too warm for that and that he was wearing a decent enough outfit anyways, dysphoria be damned.

“Hi.” The sicker boy said in a sweet, dazed tone. “Why are you here?” 

“YOu didn't show up at Diagon Alley and so I came over to see if you're ok, and then your dad told me that you're sick. Are you okay? You're really not looking too good.” Albus internally cringed. He knew that Scorpius got very concerned whenever a loved one got sick. A few months after Christmas break his roommate got the sniffles and Scorpius had a panic attack. Albus didn't have time to get a word out before Scorpius was kneeling beside him putting his hand on his forehead. “You feel really warm. Do you feel weak? Do you need to get to St. Mungos? Should I go get James- or your Mom but not your Dad?” 

“I'm fine, Scorp. It's just Wolfsbane fever I've had it a million times.” Scorpius stared at him blankly, and it occurred to the werewolf that the blonde had no clue what he was talking about. “Wolf’s bane fever is something that can happen if you substitute one of the ingredients, Chizpurfle fang, for adder's fang. It doesn't affect the main function of the potion, which is to keep the drinker sane during the full moon, but it does curdle the angelic milk, which is the main ingredient in the pain-relieving effect of the potion. It usually doesn't do much except make transformations more painful than usual, but it can cause muscle weakness and high fever in some people. So whenever there is a shortage of Chizpurfle, like there is right now, then every werewolf in the affected area is gonna be downing wolfsbane made with Adder's fang.” As much as Albus loved to nerd-out about potions, Scorpius didn't seem the slightest bit relieved about his answer.

“But, will you be okay?” 

“I'll be fine, Wolfsbane fever sucks but it can kill you, or do any major damage for that matter. I'll be back to normal in a few days. I'm sorry I stood you up at Diagon Alley, I should have sent a note or something.”

“No no! You're fine, I'm sorry I barged in and disturbed you when you were feeling ill.” Albus was just about to assure him that he was fine when he heard a loud crash from downstairs. “What was that?”

“I don't know, help me up so I can see what’s going on, my muscles are weak.” the sickly boy said, motioning for his friend to help him stand up.

“Are you sure that's a good idea? What if your dad sees us?”

“Oh, who cares, he’s all bark no bite.” Scorpius was gonna say that he thinks there's a certain famously dead dark wizard that would disagree but decided that this wasn't the time to be sarcastic. He hooked his arm around Albus’s shoulders and helped him waddle to the door. Albus vaguely wondered if Scorpius had gotten any taller. ‘ No, he couldn't have grown any noticeable height, I just saw him a week and a half ago.’

Making their way to the top of the stairs, overlooking the living room and dining table, they saw Harry pick up a letter from a pile of broken glass that was sitting next to a very dazed owl. Ginny looked over at her husband intently, leaning over his shoulder and peering at the letter anxiously as he opened it. James, who was holding a bag of potato chips and shoving them into his mouth just looked at them, clearly confused. None of them noticed the two boys standing in the stairwell.

“I got the job!” Harry turned to his wife excitedly.

“Oh my god you got the job!” she yelled as she hugged him.

“What job?” James asked through a mouth full of chips. 

“Coming this September, I'll be the new DADA professor, the position isn't cursed anymore, I checked.” 

“What?” James' mouth hangs open, revealing some half-chewed potato.

“Congratulations, Dad” Albus made him and Scor[ius’s presence in the stairwell known. Harry looked over at the two boys.

“Scorpius, what are you doing in my house?”

“I let him in, Dad.”

“Congratulations, Mr.Potter.”

“...thanks”