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Honeydukes Cellar (Incomplete FF) Here is the home to those stories who didn't quite get told in full.

 
 
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Old 08-12-2018, 02:38 AM   #1 (permalink)
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Default The Connection - Sa13+

Hello all! Long time no see. This story is based off of two of my stories, called Albus Potter and the New Beginning. This is sort of like, version 3.0- there are lots of changes. This was also posted on AO3! But for now, all new chapters will be posted here. Comments and feedback are highly highly appreciated! I hope you all enjoy.

THE CONNECTION
chapter one: voices


“Potter, a word, please?”

The train had only just departed, none of the families quite yet starting to clear out, when Draco Malfoy approached the Potter-Weasley clan, an exceptionally rare occurrence. Harry could sense Ron tensing up.

Harry turned to his family, excused himself, and followed Malfoy to a more secluded corner. Far from his usual smug facial expression, Malfoy actually looked somewhat disturbed. This earned him Harry’s full attention.

“I’m going to get right to it.” Malfoy said, lifting up his sleeve.

What once had been a formless scar, had now begun to take all too familiar shape- it had turned a slightly angry red color, and Harry
could make out the shape of the snake and the skull, as if the mark was a freshly healed scar.

Harry felt as though he was about to stumble backwards; the force of the revelation hit him harder than a brick wall. It was impossible!

“H.... how?” Harry could only choke out, eyes lifting to meet Draco’s. A muscle in Draco’s jaw tensed. Suddenly, he didn’t look like a middle aged man. He looked rather like a frightened teen who Harry had watched through his invisibility cloak all those years ago on the Astronomy Tower.

“Please.” Draco said, more emotion in his voice than Harry had ever heard. “The Aurors can find answers. I can’t.... I can’t...” Draco was having trouble getting the words out; Harry understood. Draco couldn’t bear to think of what could happen to his son in a new Death Eater regime. Harry took a deep breath, steadying himself.

“I promise, Draco.” Malfoy looked up at him, the usage of his first name not lost on him. “I promise we’ll find answers and we’ll stop whoever is doing this. I’ll keep you informed, Draco.”

***


Unlike the other fifth year students piling into the scarlet steam engine known as the Hogwarts Express, Scorpius Malfoy wasn’t concerned with the oncoming threat of O.W.Ls, the examinations administered to fifth year students at Hogwarts. No, Scorpius was far more concerned with the medically recommended potion in his trunk. Every day for his yearly stay at Hogwarts, at precisely ten A.M. every morning, he was to drink from the vial. Professor Slughorn would brew him a new potion monthly. The healers at St. Mungos has thrown about a lot of words surrounding Scorpius’ condition; ‘congenital’, ‘nascent’, ‘hitherto unknown power’. The phrase that mattered most to Scorpius, however, was ‘Legilimens’.

As with anything he was curious about, he had taken to reading up on the subject. Legilimemcy was similar to the concept of “reading minds”, although a slightly irritated Draco had told Scorpius it was a little deeper than that. Certainly, reading minds had been how it had manifested for Scorpius. A sudden explosion of voices, jumbled and loud, had awoken Scorpius. The healers helpfully said congenital Legilimency was extremely rare, and congenital Legilimency to that extreme was even more rare. The potion they had prescribed was a suppressant, designed to suppress the mental centers that controlled the ability to perform Legilimency. But sometimes the potions effects would slip, and Scorpius was terrified of that happening in school.

Scorpius traveled through the train, looking into all the compartments; he saw Hugo Weasley, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander and Conor Finnigan-Thomas playing exploding snap; in another compartment he saw James Sirius Potter looking conspiratorial as he talked closely with the Quidditch Keeper, William Taylor; and finally, he found his best friend. Albus was already in his Slytherin robes, looking slightly worried as he discussed something with Rose Weasley; Albus turned his head, his green eyes meeting Scorpius’, and his face lit up with a smile.

“Scorp! Come in!” Albus said jovially. Scorpius happily entered the compartment, waving to Rose.

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” Scorpius said rather meekly. Rose rolled her eyes.

“No, you weren’t Scorpius. We were just discussing O.W.Ls.” She said as Scorpius took his seat next to Albus.

“Oh yeah.” Scorpius said rather distractedly. Albus raised his eyebrow and Rose was rather silent.

“You okay, Scorp?” Albus asked, voice laced with concern. Just as Scorpius was trying to formulate an answer, James stepped into the compartment.

“‘Ello Scorpius, Rose.” He greeted. William was peaking over his shoulder, offering a wave to the group in the compartment. “So, Albus...”

“No, James.” Albus said rather stormily, shocking Scorpius.

“You can’t stop me from convincing you now, Al...” James started, but Albus whipped out his wand in a flash of movement.

“Mum taught me the Bat Bogey over the summer.” Albus said simply. James, the seventh year older brother, actually yelped, and ran out of the compartment, stumbling comically around William. Scorpius was thankful for the distraction from his unintentional standoffishness; but the relief was short lived, as Albus was still on the subject.

“So, Scorpius, seriously. Are you ok?”

Much to Scorpius’ disappointment, no distraction from the question came.

Scorpius paused, well aware that he was making it blatantly obvious something was up. He looked from Albus’ green eyes to Roses’ brown eyes; he found himself unable to even conjure up a lie. Scorpius sighed, pulling down the shade on the compartment door; and he told them everything, to the fullest detail. The night he woke up. The two days in St. Mungos, where he lay alternately sedated and sleeping, or writhing in agony as the voices seemed to nearly split apart his skull. He reached into his trunk and showed them the vial of the viscous blue potion he was to take every morning. To their credit they listened intently, casting no apparent judgement, only showing concern for their friend. When Scorpius was finally finished with his story, there was a pregnant pause.

“Do... do they think you’ll be able to keep it under control?” Albus broke the silence, his voice tentative. Scorpius chose his words carefully.

“It’ll take training, years of it, before I can fully take myself off of the potion.” He carefully left out the fact that the Healers said that him taking control of the ability was highly unlikely, in any case.

“And they believe you were just born with it?” Rose now asked, vocalizing what Scorpius had been feeling about the whole situation. Something like this doesn’t normally just pop up, fifteen years into ones’ life. As Scorpius considered his reply, the train began to slow to a stop.

“I think something’s going on.” He said simply. “Something that the healers and my dad aren’t telling me.”

“Why would they lie to you?” Rose asked him.

“I don’t know.” Scorpius said simply, and it was true. Of course he didn’t know why; as far as he knew, his dad had never really lied to him.

At last the train came to a complete stop. The sound of compartment doors opening came in loudly, as the trio collected their trunks. Scorpius was blindsided by Albus flinging his arms around him suddenly.

“Oh, Scorpius! Here I am complaining about my summer- and you’ve had a hell of a time! I’m so sorry mate.” Albus said in one long exhale. Scorpius caught Rose’s amused eyes over Albus’ shoulder, and he rolled his eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay Albus. Really, I’m fine. As long as I’m taking the potion, I’ll have it under control.” Scorpius said, patting Albus on the back reassuringly. Albus snuffed, then pulled back, straightening out his robes.

“Right. Good. We’ll be here for you of course.” Albus said in a voice that he had purposefully deepened. Scorpius smiled, and was about to reply when there was a commotion outside. Albus clambered for the door, wand drawn; Scorpius brought his hand closer to the wand in his pocket, not drawing it, while Rose looked ready to rage.

The taller Albus blocked Scorpius’ view; he managed to slip around him to see what the cause of the commotion was. Scorpius saw the hulking form of Goyle Jr., nose bloodied, face red as he stood across from James, whose lip was split. Their wands were pointed at the other; Goyle’s lackeys nearly cowered behind their leader.

“James!” Albus yelled, approaching his brother. Scorpius kept his eye on James; Albus’ older brother was shaking with rage, a peculiar glint in his eye. “James, what the hell are you doing?”

As Scorpius further surveyed the situation, he was suddenly pushed to the side by an unprecedented force; he heard Rose yelling mightily. Scorpius gathered his balance. Before he could even consider attempting to try and placate the situation, he felt as though he was being submerged into cold water.

‘Oh no.’ He thought to himself, screwing his eyes shut; but the torrent of voices didn’t come. Instead, he could only hear whispered words.

“Silence.”

“Strike to kill.”

“The Killing Curse ought to do, Potter.”

“His father is responsible for the death of your father’s best friend, Goyle.”

As soon as it had started, Albus felt the coldness leave him, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Goyle Jr. and his cronies walking away, as James stormed out of the train with his trunk in tow, Rose looking scandalized. Albus was looking at Scorpius with a concerned look on his face.

“Scorp? Everything okay?” He asked, his voice small; Scorpius nodded, slightly distracted. Those voices....

He and Albus collected their trunks and made their way out of the train; Hagrid waved merrily at them, and Scorpius could only half-heartedly return the wave. Albus kept quiet in their walk, but Scorpius could almost feel his concern overtaking him. Maybe even he could. Scorpius could see Rose, still looking quite angry, as she climbed into a carriage with Conor Finnigan-Thomas and Louis Weasley. Albus started walking in that direction, but Scorpius saw James getting into a carriage by himself. Scorpius considered for a moment; just what had those voices been?
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Old 08-18-2018, 12:25 AM   #2 (permalink)
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CHAPTER TWO
letters to home




With a sigh, Scorpius followed Albus into the carriage. Rose smiled warmly as he took a seat next to Albus, and Conor was prodding Louis with an expertise he’d collected over his school years. Albus watched with an amused expression, while Rose was watching with squinted eyes, as if studying some odd specimen. Scorpius tried to engage, but his mind was stuck on the confrontation in the train. Scorpius had been around the Potter family since the end of his first year of Hogwarts, and he had certainly been privy to family arguments. But he had never ever seen James so angry. Goyle Jr. wasn’t exactly a model student nor human being, but he hadn’t shown much of a confrontational side in his time at Hogwarts. Then there were the voices. Scorpius has no clue why or how his ability had broken through the suppressant just for what in particular was being said. Scorpius worried it had been the result of Imperius curses; that, to him, was the scariest thought of all. The carriage came to a stop, and Louis was the first to leave, a sneer on his tomato red face. Conor followed, chuckling heartily. Rose shook her head and exited.

“Scorp, you sure you’re okay?” Albus asked, staying in his seat. Scorpius sighed.

“Come on, let’s walk and talk.”

They both climbed out, joining the rest of the stragglers from the carriage. Albus waved to Hugo who offered an enthusiastic wave back, then resumed the rapid fire talk with some of his Hufflepuff friends. The Hufflepuff Head Boy, Declan Artemis, was caught between the boy’s conversation, and he seemed irritated and vaguely offended. If Scorpius wasn’t so preoccupied with the possible danger that he’d caught going on, he would’ve been amused.

“So, what’s going on?” Albus asked, as they fell to the back of the line of students.

“When James and Goyle were having it out, I think my potion slipped-“

“Oh god! Scorp, you should’ve said! Do you need to take some now? Oh, Merlin’s soggy sock I should’ve known-“ Albus started rambling. Scorpius found it rather endearing, and would’ve let him go on, had the stakes not been high.

“No, Albus, that’s not the concern. I’m fine. Really.” Albus sighed in relief, and Scorpius was rather taken aback at the volume of care his best friend was showing. “No, I heard a voice. I think it was egging them on? It tried to get one of them to use the Killing Curse.” Albus stopped dead in his tracks. He seemed at a loss for words. Scorpius grabbed his arm to get him to start walking again. “I think I should talk to McGonagall.”

“No!” Albus blurted suddenly, startling Scorpius. “Sorry.... uh, no. At least, not yet.” Scorpius raised his eyebrow, and Albus shrugged. “Just let me talk to him first. McGonagall would make a big thing out of it, Dad and the Auror Office would get included. It’d be a big mess.” Scorpius sighed heavily, fixing Albus with a significant stare.

“Shouldn’t it be a big thing, Al?” He said, as they passed through the courtyard, walking by the Memorial; an obsidian cube with a golden phoenix perched upon it. Inscribed upon the four sides of the cube were the names of those witches and wizards who were lost in the Voldemort Wars. Scorpius could tell Albus stiffened as they passed; he decided to not point it out, though he was curious about the reaction.

“Yes, of course it should be a big deal.” Albus finally answered. “But the last thing I would want for James, or for that matter, the last thing James would want for himself, is a battery of questions from McGonagall and the DMLE.” The approached the Great Hall, among the last dregs of students to enter. Scorpius smiles at Rose, who was seated at the Ravenclaw table. He and Albus took their seats at the Gryffindor table. James had returned to his regular self, though Scorpius didn’t need Legilimency to tell it was a just a mask.

As the first years shuffled in, Louis was arguing passionately with William, who had a very Percy Weasley-like smug look on his face. Conor listened with baited breath as the sniped back and forth at one another. Scorpius grinned, and met eyes with Albus, who was doing the same.


***


Dear Lily,

Sorry I didn’t write to you last week, rather dunderheaded of me. First week in and we’re being piled with homework already! Slughorn is his usual self. I had to miss the first Slug Club meeting, James forced me and Scorp to attend the Gryffindor Quidditch practice. They’ve improved quite a lot; even Louis watched in awe, particularly at some of the saves William was making. Also, we have a new Defense professor! Alixion retired last year, so apparently there was a scramble to find a new one. His name’s Rami Abayomi, he’s from Egypt, one of the youngest wizards to graduate from the Curse Breaker class! I believe he had a rather terrible run in with a swarm of firewasps, took out most of his squad. He’s a remarkable wizard though, probably one of my favorite teachers.

Scorp is doing great as well. He hasn’t had the greatest of summers, but he confided in me about it, and it just made me feel really good? Not that he had a hard summer, but that he trusts me enough to tell me stuff like that. He knows I’m always here for him.

Enough about me! How’s Ilvermorny? I wish I could see it. You’re lucky you got into that exchange program first year!

All my love,

Albus




Dear Albus,

I suppose I can forgive you for not writing, deep down.

It’s fascinating you have a Curse Breaker as your teacher; I’m not saying you should learn all you can so we can sneak past Mum’s protective charms, but I kind of am. Also, I’m glad you finally, just now realized Scorpius truly trusts you. It’s been five years, I could’ve told you that. God, you boys are frustrating!

Not much going on here. Professor Wilson apparently stayed in a beach house over the summer, so we have significantly less homework! Maci says she feels physically lighter. Also, Darren has really grown into quite the frame. I might be going to Quidditch matches as well Albus! And I suspect my reasoning is similar to Louis’, if you know what I mean.

Like I said. Boys. Frustrating.

Tell James he owes me twenty galleons,

Lily
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