#ESPECIALLY ALBUS

[zeke-fanfucs]

Welcome home

EHEHEHEHEHEH! It’s a fanfic of my beloved family! Aka! The Bastard Family! Featured Faith, Kerano, Devlin and our favorite ALBUS! (Yes this is before the whole shitshow of Kamor’s power. I NEED THIS OKAY!)

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The air was warm, the scent of soil and fresh herbs drifting through the dry desert breeze. Faith’s garden was a rare patch of green in the otherwise sunbaked wasteland of SpringRock—a small miracle in a land where life had no right to thrive.

And right in the middle of it, giggling with uncontained joy, was Kerano. She sat cross-legged in the shade of the cabin’s porch, surrounded by a ragtag army of stuffed toys. Some were well-loved, some were missing buttons or patches of fur, but none were as battle-worn as Fluffal.

The stitched-up bunny sat proudly in her lap, his fur matted from years of cuddles and his seams reinforced more times than she could count. Fluffal had seen wars. He had survived tea parties, pillow fort sieges, and the great mud puddle incident of last week.

Kerano held him up, shaking him dramatically. “Commander Fluffal!” she announced, her voice filled with faux seriousness. “The enemy forces are approaching from the east!”

She turned to a stuffed lizard with a missing tail. “General Wiggles, prepare the troops!”

The lizard flopped over in response.

“No time for naps, General!”

She giggled, placing Fluffal down as she started rearranging her army, completely engrossed in her mission. The desert wind ruffled her dark curls, but she paid it no mind. Her world was here, in this little garden, where she could play without a care.

From the porch, a voice called out. “Kerano,” Faith’s warm tone carried through the air. “Don’t wander too far from the house, alright?”

Kerano’s head snapped up. “I won’t, Mom!” she chirped before turning back to Fluffal and whispering, “That was the Queen of the Kingdom. We must protect her at all costs.”

Fluffal, as always, remained steadfast in his duty.

——————————————

Behind the house in a small workshop, the rhythmic clanking of metal echoed through the dry air as Delvin tightened the last few screws on the weapon in front of him. It was a sleek, customized rifle—nothing too fancy, but sturdy enough to survive the harshness of SpringRock.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, exhaling as he reached for a bolt he’d set aside earlier.

His fingers met empty space.

Delvin’s eye twitched. Slowly, he looked up.

And there, leaning lazily against the workbench with a shit-eating grin, was Albus.

Delvin didn’t even hesitate—he just rolled his eyes and held out his hand.

“Give it back.”

Albus twirled the bolt between his fingers, inspecting it like it was some rare treasure. “Give what back?”

Delvin deadpanned. “I don’t have the patience for your games today, Albus.”

Albus smirked, flipping the bolt once before finally tossing it toward Delvin, who caught it effortlessly.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up,” Delvin muttered, turning his attention back to the rifle.

Albus shrugged. “Didn’t think you’d still be holed up here, playing house.”

Delvin’s hands paused for a second before continuing his work. “Not playing. Just… making sure this family stays standing.”

Albus scoffed, but there was something guarded in his expression. He rarely came around—not because he didn’t care, but because he cared too much. He wasn’t like Delvin. He wasn’t steady. He wasn’t reliable.

He was a mess. And this family? They deserved better than a mess.

Delvin glanced at him, as if reading his mind, but said nothing. Instead, he just sighed, shaking his head. “If you’re staying, make yourself useful. I’ve got another job after this one.”

Albus smirked. “You want me handling weapons? Bold choice.”

Delvin snorted. “Not handling. Lifting. You’re taller than me—useful for once.”

Albus grumbled, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he grabbed a wrench, twirling it between his fingers before setting it down next to Delvin. It wasn’t much. But it was something.

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾ ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━

In the quiet of the house, the scent of fresh herbs and simmering broth filled the air. Faith stood at the kitchen counter, carefully slicing a ripe tomato, her movements slow and methodical.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where she could see Kerano outside, completely lost in her world of stuffed animals and imaginary battles. A soft smile tugged at Faith’s lips.

It had been a few months since the incident. Since everything changed.

Since she nearly lost everything.

Her fingers absentmindedly brushed against the chain around her neck, her thumb tracing over the simple ring that hung from it.

Albus’s ring.

She let out a quiet sigh, rolling it between her fingers. She never took it off. It rested against her heart—a constant reminder of what could have been.

What she wanted but refused to reach for.

She knew how he felt. How he tried to keep his distance, convinced he was nothing but a storm that would wreck whatever peace she had built.

But he didn’t realize—he was part of that peace.

Faith shook her head, pushing the thoughts away as she resumed cutting the tomato.

She hummed a soft lullaby as she worked, the same one she used to sing to Kerano on restless nights. It was an old song, one from before she left the Triad. Before she became this.

A mother. A fugitive.

A woman in love with a man too stubborn to believe he deserved to be loved back.

She exhaled, placing the sliced tomatoes into a bowl.

Outside, Kerano laughed, the sound full of life. And in the distance, she swore she heard the faint echo of boots approaching.

Albus was here.

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Faith didn’t turn around, didn’t need to. She just smiled as she continued preparing lunch.

“Welcome home,” she said softly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Albus froze in the doorway.

Home.

The word settled deep in his chest, foreign and familiar all at once. He had never really had a home before—just places he crashed, places he fought, places he ran from.

Yet here… in this quiet little cabin, with the scent of fresh food in the air, Kerano’s laughter outside, and Faith standing there like she had always been waiting for him—

It felt like home. And that scared the hell out of him.

He swallowed, shifting awkwardly. “Didn’t know I was staying.”

Faith glanced over her shoulder, her expression knowing but gentle. “You never do.”

Albus exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn’t good at this—at staying, at belonging. He didn’t deserve this place. He didn’t deserve her.

And yet… he was still standing in the doorway, unable to make himself leave.

Faith didn’t say anything more, but she reached for the bottle of whiskey on the counter, pouring a generous amount into a glass before sliding it toward him.

Albus didn’t need to be asked. He picked up the glass, his fingers wrapping around the cool rim. His eyes met hers for a moment, his usual playful grin creeping onto his face. It was a facade, a shield he wore well. But something in the way his eyes softened told her more than words ever could.

He took a long sip, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. Then, with a quick, sly smile, he looked at her again.

“Thought I was the only one with bad habits,” he teased, raising the glass as if to make a toast.

Faith didn’t flinch, not this time. “Everyone needs a vice,” she replied with a wink, continuing to slice the vegetables with practiced precision.

For a brief moment, Albus felt the walls he’d built for so long start to crumble. He knew she didn’t push. She never did. But he couldn’t shake the feeling she saw through him, knew the parts of him that were broken, the parts he kept hidden.

It wasn’t just about the whiskey.

It was the way he avoided real food, the way he filled himself with Load Pills instead.

It was the way he pushed people away even as he longed for their company.

But Albus couldn’t bring himself to let her in. Not fully.

He leaned against the doorframe, a half-smirk still playing on his lips. “Maybe one day you’ll teach me how to cook like that,” he said, nodding toward the stove.

Faith smiled without looking up. “I’m sure you’d ruin it.”

He chuckled softly, but the weight of her words, the ease of the moment, lingered in the air. The truth was, he was already ruining things. Ruining himself.

But for now, he’d settle for this—this fragile, unspoken truce. Just being here.

Just being home.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The door swung open with a thud as Kerano stormed into the kitchen, her little legs stomping on the wooden floor in dramatic fashion. She was clutching Fluffal tightly in her arms, the bunny still showing signs of all the battles it had endured over the years. The plushie had seen more action than most warriors, and Kerano treated it like a true comrade.

She paused when she saw Albus standing near the door, her face going from fiery frustration to a more reserved, shy expression. Albus had always been there for her—another father figure in her chaotic little world—but she still wasn’t fully sure how to act around him. She had a little habit of calling him “Mr. Albus,” as if she were still trying to make sense of the fact that he was part of her world now.

Kerano waved her free hand excitedly, her voice high-pitched and eager. “Mr. Albus! Guess what! I finally won against the mean desert rats!”

Her eyes sparkled with pride, and she held Fluffal up as if the bunny had helped her win the fight. “They kept eating our raspberries, but I showed them! I told them, ‘No more! You’re not taking my mom’s berries!’”

She puffed out her chest, as if she had just saved the entire family from a great catastrophe.

Fluffal’s floppy ears bounced with every dramatic gesture.

Albus couldn’t help but smile, the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth despite himself. His usual playful demeanor softened as he looked down at Kerano, the shy little girl who had changed everything.

“Is that so?” Albus said, his voice light but warm. “You took down all the rats by yourself?”

Kerano nodded enthusiastically, spinning in a small circle as if reenacting her victory. “Yep! All by myself! Fluffal helped too!” She glanced at the bunny, holding him up like a trophy, as if Fluffal had somehow dealt the final blow.

Faith, watching the exchange from the stove, smiled softly to herself. Her heart warmed as she glanced at the two of them, knowing how much Albus meant to Kerano—and how, despite his walls, Albus had become more than just a protector to the girl. He was family.

She turned back to her work, letting the moment play out. The kitchen, once quiet and solitary, was now filled with a hum of life.

Delvin walked in, wiping his hands on a rag as he stepped through the door. His brown hair, usually messy from long hours spent working, was now streaked with a bit of muck and dust from his latest project. His green eyes flicked over the room before landing on Faith, who was busy at the stove, and then to the little whirlwind of energy that was Kerano, proudly showing off her victory over the desert rats.

He froze for a moment, looking at the kitchen floor, which had just been cleaned not long ago. His lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced at his hands—definitely not clean.

Faith caught the look and sighed, wiping a hand over her forehead. She had just cleaned the floors, and now it looked like they were all covered in dirt, muck, and whatever else they had dragged in from the outside. The joys of living in a desert, she thought, slightly amused at the chaos.

Delvin chuckled sheepishly. “Well… I guess that’s my cue to leave my boots outside next time, huh?” He glanced down at his boots, now caked with dust from the day’s work.

Kerano, hearing him, darted over and quickly grabbed onto his leg. “Daddy!” she squeaked, her eyes wide with excitement. “I beat the rats! I’m a hero!”

Delvin looked down at her, his heart swelling with affection. He’d never get used to hearing her call him Dad—but it was a word he would protect with everything he had. He ruffled her messy black hair, a smile tugging at his lips. “A hero, huh? Well, I guess I’d better start calling you ‘Captain Kerano’ from now on.”

Kerano grinned brightly, then immediately ran to show Fluffal off to Delvin, her stuffed bunny now her proud trophy.

Faith watched the interaction quietly, a soft warmth filling her chest as she turned back to the stove. She had built this little family out of what she had left—what they had left—and every day it grew a little stronger. It wasn’t perfect, but in this place, with the dust and the heat, she had everything she needed.

Delvin, wiping his hands once more, looked at Faith with a knowing expression. “I’ll take the blame for the floor later,” he said, a bit of humor in his voice. But his eyes lingered on her, and for a brief moment, something more than just friendship flickered between them. He knew his place now, though—he wasn’t blind to the connection that Faith and Albus had, even if neither of them had the guts to admit it.

Faith caught the look and smiled faintly. “You’re a good dad, Delvin,” she said softly. “Kerano is lucky to have you.”

Delvin didn’t reply at first, his eyes softening as he watched Kerano run around, her laughter filling the room. He had accepted the fact that Faith had moved on, but he would never stop caring for her—and for Kerano, who had stolen his heart just as quickly as she had stolen Faith’s.

“Maybe. But it’s her that’s lucky to have you as her mom,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Faith didn’t respond right away. She just smiled quietly, her back turned as she chopped more vegetables for their meal. Delvin had been her closest friend for so long—he understood her, and she understood him. Even if their paths hadn’t crossed the way either of them expected, they had made something real together.

Outside, the wind howled over the desert, the heat pressing in from every angle. But inside this little home, amidst the dirt, the dust, and the mess—this was where they were meant to be. This was their family.

[houseofmarcella]

dear god Albus Potter do you utterly haunt my thoughts

Just… Albus in the cursed child, for as mixed as people seem to be on it… Albus as the certified middle child who doesn’t have the cloak, doesn’t have the map, who doesn’t even have a family name?

Can you imagine little Al (not yet Albus because that’s a name he truly goes by once he has Scorpius) tucking himself into the cracks of the door as he hears his parents talking, hears his dad say it would have been better to know they were having two boys so they could have just called him Sirius

Al, getting teased by his invisible brother, yet seeing so distinctly that his father chose James over him for their family legacy

Al, who grew up on the filtered advice of a distant, out of reach mentor who he could never live up to. Not like James with his fun, his humor, or Lily with her love and her girlhood.

(Albus, who will hear Cedric called the spare and understand far too well what it’s like to be of secondary importance)

Al, who out of all his siblings looks the most like his father, a reflection to every family friend of what harry went through and an eternal reminder to himself and the world that he will always be his father’s legacy (he will look in the mirror for most of his adult life and see his father before he sees himself)

Al, age 11, seeking comfort on the train platform as everything changes around him and getting another lecture about bravery that he doesn’t feel he has

Al becoming Albus on that train, when the boy who would become the most important person in his life actually asks him, asks him what he wants to be called

Albus, under the sorting hat, struggling but thinking about who he wants to be outside of his family’s legacy and getting put in Slytherin for it

Albus, who grew up on war stories and hogwarts hyjinks staying up half his first night because he’s afraid of his peers, but doesn’t want them to know that because he so desperately and conflictingly wants to both fit in and stand out

Albus, who is bad at flying, humiliating himself in front of his peers, because he isn’t harry but isn’t Quidditch player Ginny either… Albus, who all the adults see as Harry’s extension; Albus, who struggles with charms like Lily never will, who can barely make his matchstick silver under the blue eyed portrait in the room, who struggles to parse through the moving and unequal words of wizarding textbooks, who attracts bullies like flies and doesn’t yet have his mother’s hexes to fight back

Albus, struggling to write that first letter home, to tell his parents and little sister that he’s different from them; Albus who doesn’t even get to tell them because James tells them first

Albus, who doesn’t get a green scarf and hat until after the first snow, unable to parse if it’s the color, the fact that he’s the second born, or maybe just that it’s him that made it come later than James’ had

Albus, who goes back home for Christmas and faces his father’s disapproval for befriending a Malfoy, his father’s distrust and attempts to assure his morality for befriending someone harry assumes cruel and antagonistic

Albus, having to hold awkward conversation with Rose and Ron and Hermione, because neither of the kids want their parents to know they’re not talking (they find out eventually, and though they’re nice about it, Albus knows they’ll always put Rose’s feelings first)

Albus, who is suddenly assumed more malicious and problem causing than he ever was before, who suddenly is seen as a prime person to scot the blame off to when things go wrong

Albus, who gets chosen after his sister (“just like her mother!”) during the family quidditch match; who gets meaningful looks from his Uncle Percy; whose Christmas sweaters are no longer red but never green; who suddenly cant seem to talk to his uncle ron anymore, someone who used to understand what it was like to be James’ brother

Albus potter who stradles the line of too Potter for Slytherin and too Slytherin for his family.

Albus Potter, who’s ambition has been squashed out by bullies and disregard and distrust, struggling to find his identity in a house and world that is still in the midst of undoing decades as an indoctrination machine…

[danadiadea]

Severus Snape didn't owe James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin (and Peter Pettigrew, but thank god I've never heard this one) shit.

He didn't owe them forgiveness.

He didn't owe them respect.

He didn't owe them understanding.

He didn't owe them trust.

He didn't owe them help.

He didn't owe them care for their health and lives and safety.

He didn't owe them one single thing.

Even if they apologised (they didn't tho).

Even if they changed (they still didn't tho).

Even if they made amends (guess what, they didn't).

Victims are allowed to hate their abusers. It doesn't make them petty. It doesn't make them pathetic. It doesn't make them unreasonable.

It doesn't justify abusers' hate towards their victim or their continuing mistreatment of them.

[rewritingcanon]

hc that minerva mcgonagall’s biggest nightmare in hogwarts is not any of the potter kids, but harry potter himself. harry would make any excuse and pull any card in the book to go to hogwarts during the school year to check up on his babies because that man has a separation anxiety that rivals no other (except maybe ron’s, but he’s not head auror is he?). he will lodge fake complaints to visit that school for a ‘check in.’ he will write up fake reports of a extremely dangerous creature being spotted near the grounds to ‘investigate.’ he will say theres been talk of [insert dangerous object] stashed somewhere in the room of requirement. and all of these concerns are resolved within a day, and get more and more creative as the years go on. eventually minerva stops questioning how playing an hour long chess match with his daughter is investigating and lets that man run wild.

[blue--ingenue]

astoria gave scorpius dino nuggets for lunch and nobody can tell me otherwise

[soraya-snape]

People hating on Dumbledore because he chose to take the hard way and step in and lead the fight against Voldemort. And now they blame him for all the people who have died (not just order members but also death eaters like Regulus?!) but if he hadn't done anything they would still have died. The difference is that a lot of other people who survived would have died too.

Yes, I agree that Dumbledore sometimes had a bit of an ego, and he should have maybe trusted more people/told more people (especially Harry and Snape) about his plans. But on the other hand, I totally understand why he didn't or maybe even couldn't trust anyone. There are literally a couple of reasons. Like the last time he trusted (not only trusted but loved) someone, his sister died, and he never forgave himself for that. Or the time the Potters trusted someone and they died. And simply the fact they were fighting a war, and it's common knowledge that you don't know who to trust in times like these, especially when you know the enemy uses spies.

Dumbledore also didn't raise Harry to die. I mean, as far as I remember, he only figured out that Harry was a horcroux when he already went to Hogwarts. Before that, he probably knew something was up, but I don't think he believed that this something would mean that Harry would die (or at least he chose not to believe it because it was too terrible to think about). And even when he knew Harry was a horcroux I think he still hoped that there would be a way for Harry to survive this because he did care about Harry (and I mean as a person not as some kind of weapon). But even if he raised Harry to die, what else was he supposed to do? Nothing? That would mean that thousands of other people would die. If you have the choice for either one or thousands of people to die, what would you do? It's obviously a horrible situation and I hope no one ever has to see that happen, but sometimes the only choices we have are bad ones, but we still have to choose.

In the end, Dumbledore was a morally grey character who made a lot of mistakes and also some character flaws but he had a good heart and most of his mistakes were made with the best intentions but under horrible conditions.

[dearestdo3]

based on this amazing fic

[ceruleanblueshells]

Scorpius Malfoy who never really got over the trauma of the time travel, who's brain uses so much power to cope with being alive that it becomes harder and harder to excel in academics. Who used to have an eidetic memory but now all his memory is spent remembering the smile of his mother. Who used to understand assignments like the back of his hand but now he can't even recognise his own hands. Scorpius Malfoy who went through something, and has to live with it,and has changed because of it, ridden with academic guilt and the rot of his apparent golden mind.

[yannfredericks]

go when you're ready

“I think you lead people on.” Albus says. “People? Plural? This is quite the accusation, Albus.” Scorpius drawls, an amused smile toying with the curve of his lips. There it is. Albus watches it and remembers what it feels like against his own. “Who do you think I’m leading on?” Albus blinks up to meet Scorpius’ gaze. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

Or: Albus and his ill-advised, alcohol-induced, intensely-yearning situationship with his best friend would be a lot more successful if they spent their time talking instead of kissing.

chapter one

chapter two

read on ao3 here!

[bawbawbridgie]

following on from my last post, i loved getting everyone’s opinions so why not create a poll about it?? this is based off the issues i see most online.

i love talking about this stuff… if you can’t already tell <3

[hexcurors]

Albus being nicknamed "Jinx" by the muggle-born students of Hogwarts but accepting it because, deep down, that's how he feels anyway.

[fanfictionroxs]

I love grindledore, but Dumbledore siblings, however broken, were Always the true love.

Aberforth being his brother's keeper and the voice of reason that brings Albus back to reality, who sticks by his older brother in war after war (after all they do have the same morals.. almost). Ariana's ghost haunting them forever because their trio is forever incomplete without her. Albus finding his true desire to ultimately be them, his family.. remembering them, never forgetting or forgiving himself for the horrific things that happened almost a century ago because his siblings' pain is his own.. Gellert is his love, but what is 2 months of understanding to a lifetime of hateful begrudging love, love that never lets go come heaven or hell, love that is so understandably angry yet absolute, unwavering.. what is 2 months of Gellert's conditional love in front of a 100 years of unconditional love that his little brother gives him? And Albus doesnt know who really teaches him the true meaning of love or makes him fall in love with the idea of love, is it Gellert or Abe.. maybe it's both.. or perhaps it is simply in a dumbledore's nature to be enamoured with love and give it as much as possible like Abe does to Albus and Ariana. And it's almost a hundred years without Ariana yet Aberforth and Albus never forget to love her with every breath they take and she doesn't. And the three Dumbledores are doomed tragic siblings, but they are each other's true love until the end.

[sarascamander]

Albus Severus: Can you recommend a book that'll make me cry?

Rose: General Mathematics 8th Grade Edition.

[shrimpalbuspotter]

Albus getting ready to dress up in the colours of whichever house is going against Gryffindor in whatever Quidditch game Scorpius has dragged him to (this was during the phase where Scorpius insisted Albus had to spend more time with his relatives and what's better than going to watch them play?) (This is purely to be petty) (he is currently glaring at James Sirius and Rose from atop the Slytherin benches, wearing more yellow than he has in his whole life) (He is going to get hexed so bad by his housemates after this) (it's totally worth it)

[maryfromwork]

Ginny: I know what it’s like to feel.. different

Albus: I’m not different. Am I?

Ginny: We all are, him especially. But there’s something kind of fantastic about that isn’t there?

[confused-cakepop]

Is this a safe space to say I don't like scorpius?