guide you home
It was rainy out. The sky was dark, which made sense considering it was five in the morning, but it still felt too gloomy. Albus felt that it accurately represented his mood.
He took a breath. Fresh air was nice.
Albus stood outside the door to his childhood home. Where his mum and dad still lived.
Fuck.
He exhaled.
He hadn't spoken to his parents in… too long. He hadn't cut them off, he'd just… chosen to stray away from them for a bit. The freedom was nice. The peace was good for the short amount of time that it lasted.
His stomach ached as he raised his hand to knock on the door.
He'd thought about taking the floo, but decided against it. That would be a bit weird from their son who had only spoken to them for one holiday every two years. Knocking on the door would have the same result.
He shut his eyes tight.
He knocked on the door.
For a second, he heard nothing. For a few seconds. Maybe they weren't home. He breathed out, relaxing his shoulders. Okay. Fine. He could just leave.
Of course, the door opened a few seconds later. He saw his dad, still taller by just an inch or two, with his untidy black hair and wide green eyes.
“Albus?” Harry greeted, a smile growing on his face.
Albus smiled back, even though it pained him to do so. He didn't really know what else to do in the moment.
“Hi!” Harry laughed slightly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants. “Um, sorry about my appearance, I wasn't expecting- you know. Hi!”
Albus could tell this was almost as awkward for his father as it was for him.
“So, um, what are you doing here?” Harry asked, pushing his hair out of his face.
“I, um, I just wanted to-” Albus looked into his father’s eyes and suddenly felt the urge to start crying. He looked down, feeling like a kid again. “Scorpius is dying.”
“What..?”
Tears started to pour down Albus’ cheeks.
“He's-” His body shook as he choked out his words. “I don't know what to do, dad.”
He felt his father’s arms wrap around him. He hugged him back, crying into his shoulder. He sobbed. He cried in his dad’s arms like when he was just a small kid and his biggest problem in the world was a stubbed toe.
His father’s hands ran through his curly hair, calming him down slightly. He took a gasping breath, hesitantly pulling away from the hug and wiping his eyes.
“I'm sorry to barge in like this,” Albus laughed wetly.
“It's not barging, you're my son,” Harry frowned, his eyebrows furrowed. “Come in. I’ll make you tea.”
Stepping inside of his parents' house was always a strange feeling. He was brought back to being young and wanting to run away, brought back to every holiday they'd celebrated together, every fight he'd gotten into with his dad and his siblings, every hug he'd shared. He looked around, seeing some new framed pictures littering the walls and some new decorations. A bunch of houseplants.
He followed his father to the kitchen, glancing around. They'd painted the kitchen a different color. It looked nice. Very blue.
He sat down at the kitchen island as Harry began making him tea. They didn't speak. They didn't really need to. Albus wouldn't know what to say if they did speak.
“Milk?” Harry asked, and it took Albus a second to process.
“Please,” Albus answered quietly. He stared at the marble countertop, his eyes following each gray line until he reached the other end of the counter. His father placed the mug of tea in front of him after a minute, having made one for himself and another for Ginny.
Harry leaned on the countertop with his mug in his hand, looking across at Albus. He exhaled. Albus stared down at his mug of tea, watching the milk swirl around.
“How are you holding up?” Harry asked. Albus could tell this was just about as awkward for his father as it was for him.
“I don't know,” Albus let out a small, forced chuckle. “It's hard.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Harry nodded. He sipped his tea.
“I- I've been doing everything I can to be there for him, but- I don't know if I'm doing enough.” Albus wrapped his hands around his mug of tea, still staring into it. “I quit my job to be there for him, I- I started working from home and I've been trying my best to take care of him, but I- I don't know. He's still in pain, and I- I know he's close to- you know, and I don't know what to do.”
Albus sniffled. A tear dripped down his cheek and into the tea. He laughed slightly at it. He didn't know why.
“You're doing the best you can, Albus,” Harry spoke gently. His voice was soft. It was a nice change from how it usually was. “You just need to be there for him. That's all you can do, really.”
“Yeah,” Albus nodded, his voice broken and quiet. “I'm.. I'm just scared, I guess. I don't know what I'll do when he's gone.”
Harry exhaled. Albus could tell he didn't know what to say. Albus didn't know what to say either.
“You could move back in with us,” Harry suggested. “If you'd like. I'm sure your mum would be more than happy.”
“Maybe,” Albus let himself smile slightly. He sipped the tea, setting it down once he'd done so. He hadn't realized how long he'd been holding it for. His hands burned. It felt nice.
“I'm really sorry, Albus,” Harry said after a moment of quiet. “I… I know how it feels.”
Albus nodded. He sipped his tea again.
“Yeah,” Albus bit his lip. He didn't have anything else to say.
It was silent. Painfully silent.
“Harry?” Called a woman’s voice. Albus' head perked up immediately. “Harry, were you talking to someone?” She must have come down from upstairs. Her footsteps were light as she entered the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. Albus had forgotten how early it was. She must have still been asleep.
Ginny stopped, spotting Albus. Albus spotted her as well. He breathed in, his eyebrows slanted. He smiled.
“Albus!” Ginny beamed.
Albus stood quickly, running to wrap his mother in a hug. He'd missed her so much. She hugged back, and he breathed in deeply, tightening his grip on her.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Ginny asked with a small laugh. Albus trembled in her embrace, and her face fell slightly. “Albus?” Her voice softened. Albus pulled away, his eyes red with tears. Again. His mum cupped his face, her soft thumb wiping away his tears. He loved her so much. He couldn't look into her eyes.
He watched her gaze switch over to Harry, then back at him with a thin lipped frown on her face. “Albus, darling, what's the matter?” She asked, still cupping his face. He swallowed, looking in her eyes for a brief second before looking back down.
“Scorpius is dying,” Albus said in a quiet voice. It wasn't any easier to say the second time.
Ginny inhaled slightly, her eyes widening. “Oh, Albus,” Her voice was gentle, swarming him with warmth like a hug. He wanted to just start sobbing and have his parents care for him like when he was young. He wished he could. Instead, he stood with his eyes down as his parents spoke about something he’d mostly tuned out.
Albus cried harder. He hated crying. He felt so weak. He was supposed to be strong for Scorpius. He wasn’t the one suffering.
The rest of the day was nice. His father made breakfast, and it was as good as he remembered it to be. They talked. They caught up. Albus wished he could have enjoyed it.
He left the house with his stomach still hurting. He needed to see Scorpius.