#and mcgonagall is just sitting there restraining every inch of her body to not fight her

[narcissa-black-supermacy]

apparently its not common knowledge that Walburga Black and Tom Riddle are the same age?

well let me blow your mind even more: Walburga Black is 10 years older than Minevra McGonagall.

[innocent-malfoy-slut]

The Aftermath

Masterlist Requests are OPEN

Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley

Word Count: 2,4k

Type: fluff

Summary: After the Battle Harry has to put together all the pieces of his life, finally free from Voldemort. His priority is Ginny.

Characters: Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Mrs. Tonks

Warning(s): no one

Harry found himself climbing what remained of the stairs and heading straight to the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady wasn’t in her portrait; actually, there wasn’t a single portrait attached at the wall anymore. He went through the hole in the wall and he entered the common room.

Fortunately, it was one of the three tallest towers of Hogwarts and, just like the other two, the damages weren’t too many. It could have been rebuilt quickly and without a big effort -unlike the lowest floors of the castle. He gave a quick look around in the circular room and took some time to impress in his mind every inch of the room.

Harry almost immediately looked over the fireplace, which his godfather used more than once to communicate with him while the Ministry of Magic was looking for him. He sat down on the floor, in front of it, and cupped his own face. How much he needed Sirius’ face showing up all of a sudden in the fire, telling him that everything was going to be okay, telling him everything had ended, and he was then free to have less troubles in life -Harry would have even kept listening to his godfather complaining about Kreacher not doing his job and insulting him, instead.

Kreacher. Where was he now? What would have happened to him?

Then he turned around and saw a scene from the last year, a fresh memory that he could have never forgot: him entering the Common Room only to discover Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, thanks to Ginny. He clearly remembered her hugging him and a moment after he was pressing his lips against hers, and, surprising for him, she returned the kiss. Harry had blurred memories of that night.

Him remembering his happiest moment in the Gryffindor Tower was brutally interrupted when he heard murmurings getting closer and closer to where he was standing. Seconds after the Common Room of the tower was full of students, exhausted, yet still excited at the ending of the Battle. Harry saw some of his friends looking around, proven at the sight of the tower almost demolished.  

“Harry!” Neville called him from the other end of the room and when he turned around he saw his friend walking towards him, “The Weasley’s were looking for you in the Great Room, I didn’t know you were her-“ he stopped talking when Harry ran away.

In the corridor of the seventh floor and all the others the characters of the portraits were finally going back to where they belonged and also the ghosts were back flying, without scaring people around. Harry was greeted by all the students -Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and even some Slytherin who had fought side by side with him earlier that morning. He noticed how the entire school was to be rebuilt, from the basement to the highest towers -probably McGonagall was already thinking of the perfect spell to use. He was confident that they would have brought the castle to its old splendor, and he would have certainly helped.

When he arrived in front of the gaping doors of the Great Hall, he immediately saw the Weasley’s still al gathered around Fred’s corpse. Next to him there were Lupin and Tonk’s corpses and kneeled next to them there was a lady with long, straight, light-brown hair. Andromeda Tonks. And he noticed she was failing with holding in her arms a pumpkin of joy. Edward Tonks, his godson.

The words he exchanged with Remus kept echoing in his head and he didn’t know way he walked up to them and kneeled in front of the woman.

“Mrs. Tonks”, Harry protracted his arms towards the baby boy and restrained smile showed up when, finally, Teddy was between her arms. He wanted to say something to cheer her up, or, at least, to state how brave they had been to fight side by side -knowing they were risking their lives.

As Mrs. Tonks raised her head, she immediately recognized the guy who was standing in front of her. “Harry”, she tried to put up a smile, but what she did seemed more like a crumple, “I-I…”

He adjusted Teddy between his arms and said: “Take your time. He’ll stay with me”. he quickly got up and approached the Weasley’s, leaving Andromeda crying her daughter and son-in-law.

Ginny saw Harry, she slipped away his brother’s hug and ran towards him, throwing her arms around his neck -always being careful not to hurt the child between their bodies. “Tell me you’re not going to leave me ever again”, she hid her face between his neck and shoulder.

“Never again.”

The process of rebuilding the castle took more time that Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick had previously estimated. Members of the Order of the Phenix stayed at Hogwarts to help too. By the end of the next day, it was like nothing had ever happened and all the students got back inside their houses’ common rooms, though most of them had to go back home.

McGonagall -now the Headmaster of Hogwarts- stayed all day in her office to write to the families of those who decided to take the train during the third week of June, assuring them that their children were now in a safe place.

Same thing decided Ron, Hermione and Harry. Although they had no exams to take, they remained there for the end of their seventh year at Hogwarts -at the same time the best and the worst they experienced. Hermione decided to properly end her education and so, according to the Headmaster, she would have gone back the next year; instead, Ron and Harry wanted to become Aurors and the Minister of Magic in person had interceded for them, allowing them to start the training as an Auror.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Andromeda Tonks and little Teddy, and all those who came to fight and protect the Wizarding World had now went back to their usual lives -obviously before the war burst out.

Harry, Hermione and Ron were in the rebuilt Gryffindor common room, sat in complete silence around a table next to a window. The couple was busy outlining their Granger’s-family rescue trip to Australia with maps and compasses, debating if it was more safe travelling in the muggle world as wizards.

“Harry, what do you think about it?” the red-haired guy suddenly broke the invisible ball him and Hermione had closed themselves in asking for their best friend’s option, but they hadn’t noticed the Boy-Who-Lived wasn’t paying attention to them at all; he rather preferred staring at the trees outside the window. “Mate? Is everything okay?”

Ron moved towards him, curious about the reason why he was mind absent and quickly he got his answer.

In the garden below them, a red-haired girl and a blonde one were sitting beneath a tree and, although from the Gryffindor Tower it was visible only their backs, it didn’t take much to understand who they were and why Harry wasn’t paying attention to the people in the room with him.

“Man”, Ron recalled his friend, who got out of the trace he was in before, and sat down next to him, “Have you talked to her?”

There was a moment of silence during which both Hermione and the red-haired guy stared at their best friend, waiting for an answer from him.

“What am I supposed to tell her, Ron? I…I acted like a fool trying to move her away from me, even though I should have known better than anyone else that she would have fought side by side with us during the battle”, Harry got up and started walking up and down the common room, unconcerned of the worried gazes he was drawing. His friends stayed quiet as they knew he needed to pour out the stress he had accumulated in the last days, “I-I…she could have died, and I would have never forgiven myself that”.

“Then go tell her!” this time was Hermione who spoke up, “Tell her how you feel, how you felt during our mission. Tell Ginny you thought of her every day and you checked on her with the map every night. Do you think I haven’t noticed it? Harry, go tell Ginny that you bloody love her!”

All around them there was only silence. Now everybody stopped what they’d been doing and focused their attention on the trio in front of the window. Neville, Dean and Seamus smiled as Harry slowly turned his head towards them. Everybody was silently pushing him to go find Ginny and talk to her, though nobody took the liberty to say more than Hermione had just said.

She summarized well how Gryffindors had been feeling about Harry and Ginny.

Having no other choices, Harry crossed the room and got out of the common room, quickly went down the stairs and ran out of the building. He knew Ginny and Luna were on the opposite spot of the garden, so he had to make his best effort to reach them before they could leave their place under the tree.

Ginny seemed very interested about what Luna was saying. She was talking about her father’s latest discovery about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack and that wasn’t a topic Luna could easily stop adding news. The red-haired girl was nodding at her friend’s direction, but her mind was totally in another place.

She just couldn’t stop thinking about Harry and how they still hadn’t found time to talk to each other, to tell each other how they were feeling. Ginny seemed always to show up in places he had left just instants before she’d walked in. She definitely gave up when, the day before, Neville had told her Harry was in his dorm and once she had made her way up to the Tower, she’d found Dean and Seamus sleeping and no sign of the boy she was looking for.

That’s why she hushed Luna by getting up when she saw Harry running towards them. The smile on her face was visible from miles away and, for the first time in her life maybe, she couldn’t limit herself to see him walking towards her, but she ran to him.

Harry wrapped his arms around her tiny, soft body and put his nose among her hair. The Borrow-typical scent invaded both his nostrils. He closed his eyes and tightened the grip around his girl’s body, “God, I missed you so much”.

“We’ve missed you, too, Harry”, Luna said closing her number of The Quibble, “Guess you arrived just on time to beat Voldemort”, she got up too and approached them, standing up right next to Harry and Ginny -still tight in a hug. Considering no one of them was actually pay attention to her, Luna wisely decided to leave them alone.

“Let’s have a walk, shall we?” Harry intertwined Ginny’s fingers with his and placed a kiss on the back of her hand.

“Sure.”

Hand in hand, they walked up to the farther tree in the Hogwarts’ Castle. The same three under which they exchanged their first kiss exactly one year before. They stopped walking and sat down; Harry had his back rested against the wood and Ginny’s head was gently placed on his torso, right upon his heart.

He kept his eyes on her, trying to impress in his mind all the little details of the girl’s face, the way she moved her hands, the way she slowly breathed in and out. It was like he was living his best dream, in which he wasn’t The-Boy-Who-Lived, he was just a wizard whose life hadn’t been linked with his worst enemy’s.  And if that was only the calm before the storm? Another time?

“For Merlin’s sake, there were a lot of things I wanted to tell you…and now…now I forget them all!” he chunked and shook his head, giving a quick look down to Ginny, “Hermione gave me a couple of good prompts from where to start, but again, I forgot them. I’m so terrible with these things”.

“I’ll start, then”, Ginny sat up straight in front of Harry and spoke up: “These months here without you had been worse than hell. I-I know maybe this isn’t like you think I would act, but- okay, then, I’ll just say that: I love you, Harry”, she smiled and, as she noticed he was too shocked to say anything else, she kept going: “I love you and I realized it when we broke up last year, and…and the time we spent apart this year, it just made my sentiments grew. You know what they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder”.

She couldn’t have said that in a better way.

“I-I have done a thing…a stupid thing…while I was away”, he wasn’t good with words and he knew that, just like Ginny knew it, “I had the Marauder’s Map with me and, some nights, I just opened it and followed your dot around the school. I thought that maybe you would sense that…and maybe understand I was thinking of you”, Harry’s eyes were stuck on Ginny, following carefully each movement of hers, “I know that’s stupid, but-“

“That’s not stupid. That’s sweet, actually”, she pointed out raising her hand to lay it on his arm, “Harry, I-“, but she were cut short by Harry’s lips against hers.

It was like their first kiss; surprisingly Harry had taken the initiative and Ginny was following his lead, getting in a better position and cupping his head with both her hands, meanwhile he was holding her by her waist. The only noise around them were made by the nature, no Gryffindors cheering for them, no Ron Weasley murmuring and Hermione Granger reassuring him, no need to stop the kiss.

As they shared their special, lovely moment, the owls went back flying around the are of the castle and not only, finally the Wizarding World was free from the fear of the Dark Magic and everybody -around the world- was conscious of that. While life was changing for thousands of wizards in the U. K., Harry’s was going through a radical mutation.

He was the Boy-Who-Lived, but -hopefully- he wouldn’t have to fight another mortal battle.

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know it -> here

follow my other accounts -> Innocent Slut (where I’ll be posting my favourites) and Evans’ Innocent Slut (where I’ll be posting about Chris Evans and Characters, also my main blog).

[torestoreamends]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: Marked

4.5k words, G rated

When Scorpius arrived in that hellish other world he discovered he had the Dark Mark branded on his arm. He hoped that when he left it would go away, but here he is, back in his own world, hiding the scar from his best friend and his dad. 

Am I allowed to blame one of the actors for a fic? This is one hundred percent James Le Lacheur’s fault. I wrote this after seeing her first show as Scorpius back in October. For those who don’t know, her Scorpius rubs his left arm during the conversation about the Voldy timeline in McGonagall’s office, and I’ve now seen that happen twice, so it isn’t a coincidence. It made me wonder whether the Scorpion King is marked, and whether that would affect Scorpius. 

This is also @bounding-heart‘s fault for talking about Scorpius and Dark Marks recently. It’s time to finally drag this thing from the angsty depths of my iPad and unleash it on the world.

Thanks to @abradystrix for betaing! 

*

It's been there since he swam out of the past and into that world with Voldemort. He hadn't noticed it at first, in the shock of losing Albus and finding himself lost in that horrifying world, but when he'd finally been left alone in the dorm, shivering from the lake and the chill of the Dementors, a blanket wrapped round his shoulders, he'd begun to feel an incessant itching ache in his left forearm. 

At first he'd thought he'd injured himself somehow in the water, or when Umbridge had hauled him onto the bank. He'd thought it was just a scratch or something, and he'd tried to ignore it, tried not to touch it. But as it had slowly begun to feel less like a scratch and more like something had been burned into his skin, he couldn't help it anymore.

Actually seeing it for the first time was a huge shock. He'd peeled the blanket back, expecting to see a simple cut, but instead he'd found himself staring at a Dark Mark. Deep red, almost the red-brown of crusting blood, against his pale, previously unblemished skin. 

He'd sat there and stared down at it, feeling weak and sick, unable to comprehend what it meant. Unable to comprehend the fact that it was there on his arm. He – the other him – was a Death Eater. The other him, this Scorpion King, was on Voldemort's side. He'd probably tortured people, murdered people. The other him had been everything his mum had taught him to hate and fight against. A Muggle hater. Sick, and twisted, and evil. 

He'd crawled under his covers and curled up in the bed that was so familiar but at the same time so cold and wrong, the bed that stood in the same position in the same dormitory as his own, but wasn't his because it wasn't next to Albus's. Some unknown boy slept there, or maybe no one at all. He'd rather it be no one. The idea of the universe replacing Albus made his heart and stomach twist with pain and nausea. He pulled the hangings around him and curled up in a little ball and tried not to cry. 

He lay awake that night, and every night afterwards, hating himself, because apparently somewhere in him was the potential for this. 

Now he's back in his own world and the adventure is over, he still hates the Mark. He will always hate it. It's a constant, painful reminder of where he's been and who he was there. A reminder of the pure evil nestled somewhere inside him. 

The only good thing about the Mark is that it doesn't hurt anymore. Back in this world it's scarred over. It's barely visible really, just an ugly, almost indistinguishable mass of scar tissue. Chances are no one would even recognise it, but that doesn't mean he doesn't dread someone seeing it. 

He hasn't told anyone about it. Not his dad, not Albus. He's been careful to hide it from both of them. They don't need to know it exists. They don't need to know the truth of who he was; who he has the potential to be. But hiding is easier said than done, especially when you spend every waking moment with someone the way Scorpius does with Albus. 

The truth comes out on a Tuesday evening. Scorpius is too tired to think after a long and awful day. One of the Gryffindors had been muttering about his mum during Arithmancy, and it had taken all his self-restrain not to turn round and hex them. He'd spent lunchtime hiding in the library, and when Albus had joined him he'd been miserable about something too.

The highlight of the day had been Charms, which had managed to be both informative and fun, but after that they'd had to use the Cloak to get away from some third years who'd taken a dislike to Albus. It had put Albus in an even more foul mood, and with him huffing around, Scorpius had failed to get anything done all evening. Now he's frustrated, still upset from the taunts about his mum, and wants nothing more than to sleep. Tomorrow will be a new day, hopefully a better one, and in Scorpius's opinion it cannot come fast enough. 

He grabs his pyjamas and starts stripping off without thinking. He rips his tie off and throws it across the room, then unbuttons his shirt, screws it up into a little ball, and chucks that away too. It misses the laundry basket by miles but he doesn't care. He can sort it out later. He's just bent down to untie his shoes when Albus speaks behind him. 

"When did that happen?" Albus asks. He's sitting on his bed, swinging his feet. 

Scorpius frowns and turns around. "What?" 

"Your arm," Albus says, nodding. "There's a scar or... Is it another Quidditch injury?" You know I can make a potion for that sort of thing." 

Scorpius glances down at his arm and his whole body goes cold. As fast as he can he turns back around and starts hauling his top on, fingers fumbling as he tries to do it up. "It's nothing," he says. 

Albus gets to his feet. Scorpius hears the floorboards creak behind him. He stops trying to do up his buttons and presses his left arm against his side, bowing his head.

"Albus, really. There's nothing there. It must just have been a shadow." 

Albus's fingers brush against his left elbow and he flinches away. 

"If there's nothing there then you'll show me your arm, right?"

Scorpius turns to face him, holding his left arm protectively against his chest. His heart is pounding. He feels nothing but pure dread. How does he get out of this? Is there a spell? A transfiguration spell that will hide scars and marks? But if he does a spell Albus will see, unless he does it non-verbally... And wandlessly... 

"There really isn't anything to see. Maybe I bruised it or something without realising. I'm pale. Those things show up easily." 

Albus is looking at him with a deep frown, and genuine concern in his eyes. He hesitates for a second, then lowers his voice although they're the only people in the dorm right now. "Scorpius..." He swallows. "You haven't been... hurting yourself, have you? Because I-I know things are hard, they've always been hard, and you deal with a lot, and-" 

"No!" Scorpius says, appalled. "Merlin, no. Albus, I wouldn't. You know I hate pain. Why would I do that to myself?" 

Albus shrugs and fiddles awkwardly with his cuffs. "I just know you're hiding something. And you don't have to tell me, I don't expect you to, I just..." He sighs, deflating a little. "I-I thought you could trust me." 

"I can trust you," Scorpius says. 

Albus gives a little nod. "Sure." He turns away and walks back to his bed, sinking onto it and crossing his legs. He sits there with his shoulders hunched, staring at his feet. 

For a long moment Scorpius watches him. It would be so easy to just climb into bed and pretend everything is fine, that Albus didn't see anything, that this conversation hasn't happened, especially if Albus isn't going to press the issue... But at the same time, Albus looks utterly miserable. He's had as terrible a day as Scorpius has, and this isn't the way to end it. 

Slowly Scorpius walks over to him. "Can I sit?" He asks, gesturing to the bed. 

Albus nods hurriedly and scoots up by the pillows, putting as much distance between himself and Scorpius as he possibly can. Scorpius sinks onto the soft mattress and chews his fingernails nervously, trying to figure out what he's supposed to say now. Before he's come up with anything Albus takes a breath and glances across at him.

"Scorpius? I-I'm sorry..." He pulls one of the pillows from beneath him and hugs it against his chest. "I'm not... angry that you won't talk to me. I don't want to be angry. That's not fair. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I-I hope you know that?" He looks up at Scorpius, so uncertain, a deep, exhausted sadness in his eyes. "It's just been a difficult day. You've had a bad day too. What they were saying about your mum earlier... We don't have to talk about anything. Maybe we should just-"

"I can't keep this secret anymore." Scorpius doesn't mean to say it, he especially doesn't mean to interrupt when Albus is being so nice, but it just bursts out. He hesitates for a moment, glancing at Albus to make sure he isn't angry about being interrupted, but all he sees from Albus is concern and curiosity, so he ploughs on. 

"I-I can lie to you, and I can keep things quiet, but this-" He bows his head and rakes his fingers through his hair. "I-it's so much harder than I thought it would be. I thought that not telling would be easier but..." 

Albus inches down the bed toward him, setting the pillow aside. When he gets close enough he puts a very gentle hand on Scorpius's shoulder. It's warm. It makes Scorpius feel so much stronger. 

"Go on," Albus says softly. "Whatever it is I- I'll still-" He tightens his grip slightly. "You've seen the worst of me and you're still here. I'll do the same. I promise." 

Scorpius looks up at him, takes heart in the open, earnest shine of his expression. You can always tell when Albus is lying, and when he isn't listening. His eyes go all closed off, and his jaw gets tight. Now he's just waiting, the golden lamplight glowing the edges of his wild hair into a halo. Scorpius swallows hard and drags his eyes away. 

"It's... Okay." Scorpius turns around on the bed, crossing his legs and looking at the creased blankets between them. "I told you about the other world. The one with Voldemort. A-and I told you about the other me. The dark, dangerous one... But I never said that-that he was a..." He screws his hands up into fists, digging his fingernails into his palms as hard as he can. It hurts. But it doesn't help him say what he needs to say. 

Albus takes hold of his hands and very gently runs his thumbs over Scorpius's knuckles. Scorpius takes a breath and relaxes his grip a little. His palms ache now. 

He looks up into Albus's eyes, and remembers how much easier it had been to pull himself out of that dark world believing Albus was with him. 

Albus is with him now. 

"The Scorpion King was a Death Eater," Scorpius says. "O-or he was becoming one. He had... The Dark Mark. I-I know because... When I came out of the lake I-I had one." 

Albus looks confused. "You... Had one?" 

Scorpius nods and very carefully avoids Albus's eyes. "I had one. A-a Mark... And. It didn't go away." He shifts uncomfortably on the bed. "I thought that when I got back to this world it would just... Disappear, but." He swallows. "But it didn't." 

Albus releases his hands. He wriggles so he's kneeling on the bed, looking down at Scorpius, looking right at his left arm. "So... so that's what I saw? Your... Dark Mark?" 

Scorpius turns away from him, hugging his left arm against his chest. "Please... It's not mine. I-I don't want it."

"Sorry," Albus murmurs. He shuffles forward a bit. "I-I know you wouldn't have... that you wouldn't want... Can I see it?" 

Scorpius looks up at him. "Why? It's ugly. It's evil. You don't need to see." 

"I was just curious," Albus says. He hesitates for a moment, then he unfolds his legs and sits down on the edge of the bed beside Scorpius. "I-I don't, you know, think any differently of you. If that's what's worrying you." He presses right up close to Scorpius and looks at him. "You're a good person. You're so good. Your heart is... It's so light. There isn't a bit of darkness in you. And I hope you know that."

Scorpius turns away from him. "That's not true. He was still me. I did this, Albus. In another world, this is who I am. No, there's- there's darkness in me. Plenty of it. I suppose I take after my dad..."

Albus sighs and looks down at his hands. "I think you could say that about anyone. That there's darkness. And... Well I think a lot of people were bad in that world. I think it did bad things to everyone. It wasn't just you." He glances at Scorpius. "Cedric Diggory. He was a Death Eater. And he was just as good a person as you. He freed us in the maze, and... He saved us. You saw him too, how good he was. So... So I think you're like that." He shuffles around a bit and braces his hands against the bed. "Circumstances changed things, but this you, the you I know... You could never do anything to hurt anyone. A-and that Mark says nothing about you. Okay?" 

There are tears dribbling down Scorpius's cheeks. There's something about how gentle but firm Albus is. If there's one person who could make Scorpius believe that maybe he is okay, then it's Albus. And all of a sudden Scorpius has no idea why he didn't talk to Albus before. 

He sniffs and wipes the tears from his cheeks. "You always know what to say, don't you?"

"It doesn't feel like it sometimes. Sometimes I ruin things." 

Scorpius mops his eyes on his sleeve and looks up at Albus. "Sometimes. Most of the time you're brilliant though." For a moment he sits very still, just looking at Albus, then he turns toward him and starts rolling up his left sleeve. "I should-" 

Albus puts a hand over his. "You don't have to." 

Scorpius brushes his hand away and finishes rolling his sleeve up to his elbow. "I know, but... I'm sick of having to hide it from you." He holds his arm out to Albus and tries not to look down. Instead he watches Albus's expression. He feels gentle fingers brush over his skin. Albus is looking down at the Mark with intense curiosity. 

"I've never seen one before," he murmurs. "I suppose they all scarred over when Voldemort went away..."

Scorpius nods. "In the other world it was a lot darker."

"What was it like when we were in Godric's Hollow?" Albus's eyes flicker up at him.

"I don't know. It itched a bit, but I was distracted by everything else going on. I-I haven't felt it since."

"That's good. At least we know he's definitely gone this time." A smile spreads across Albus's face and he looks back down at Scorpius's arm. "You'll have to let us know if it starts hurting or anything. Give my dad a heads up." He starts rolling Scorpius's sleeve down again. For a moment his hand lingers against Scorpius's forearm, then he looks up, and suddenly Scorpius finds himself swamped in a tight, warm hug, bowled backwards onto the bed.

For a moment he flails his hands around in sheer surprise, trying to catch himself, but as the shock wears off he manages to appreciate just how good the hug is. He wraps his arms tightly round Albus and relaxes in his best friend's arms.

"Thank you," he murmurs. 

Albus squeezes him tighter. 

---

It takes Scorpius a while to work up the courage to talk to his dad about the Mark. In principle the idea of it isn't bad, he of all people ought to understand more than anyone what it's like, but at the same time Scorpius is terrified. Sometimes the thought of revealing this to his dad makes him feel slightly sick. Because what if his dad doesn't understand? What if he thinks badly of him for it? It's taken so long for them to be able to talk, for his dad to see him as a worthy son, but will the actions of another version of himself change all that? He knows how sensitive his dad is about the subject of Death Eaters and Dark Marks...

He finally does it while he's at home for the summer, a couple of days after the end of term. It's two in the afternoon on a sweltering hot day, and Scorpius and Draco are alone at the Manor. Draco is in his office, researching a new artefact or something. Scorpius is in the garden, reading in the shade while the blue sky and sunshine blaze overhead. He's severely regretting the long sleeved t-shirt he has no choice but to wear. It's so hot. He's sweating so much that the shirt is sticking to him, and his forearm itches where the fabric constricts his overheating skin. Normally he'd stay out here for hours, enjoying the warmth and the gentle breeze, but he just can't anymore. He feels like he's about to pass out from the heat, and he wants nothing more than to claw the fabric away from his stupid scar. He can't take it anymore. 

He shuts his book with a snap and gets to his feet. 

Thankfully it's cooler inside the house. As he walks to his dad's office he rubs at the scar under his t-shirt. He doesn't want to do this, but he has to or he'll never survive the summer. His feet get slower the closer he gets to this office, and his heart pounds hard in his chest, but he forces himself onward, step by step, until he's right outside his dad's room. 

For a moment he hesitates at the door, taking deep breaths to steel himself. The door is already ajar so he probably could just walk in, but it feels like a good idea to advertise his presence. If he doesn't he might run away before Draco even has time to notice him

Heart in his mouth, he knocks and steps inside. "Dad?"

Draco glances up from the document he's reading. "Scorpius. I thought you'd be in the garden for hours yet. Are you okay?" 

Scorpius doesn't nod. He steps into the room. There have been only a couple of times in his life when he's wished he could stop his hands from their incessant fiddling. In the other world his inability to be still had been a constant source of pain and anxiety; the Scorpion King wouldn't have messed with his clothes. And he wishes again now that he could just take control of his fingers and stop. He must look as nervous as he feels, undoing and redoing his top couple of shirt buttons over and over. 

"I-I wanted to talk to you," he says, fighting to keep his voice cheerful and light. "But if you're busy, I can-"

Draco pushes back from the desk and gestures for Scorpius to pull up a chair. "I'm not doing anything that can't wait, and you're already here." He watches as Scorpius drags an armchair across to him. "You're nervous. What's bothering you?"

Scorpius sinks into the chair and scuffs his toes against the floor. "There's something... Something I need to show you." He can feel his dad's close scrutiny burning into him, but he tries to ignore it. His fingers shake as he unbuttons his left cuff and slowly rolls his shirt sleeve to his elbow. He lays his arm across the table, exposing the inside of his forearm, and looks up at his dad. 

For a moment his dad's eyes linger on his face, then he glances down. The only signs that he's seen are a blink, and the slightest tightening of his lips. Otherwise he remains utterly unreadable. 

Scorpius watches him. His pulse is throbbing far too fast, he can feel it through his whole body. The longer the silence stretches (it feels like it's been hours since there was any noise in this room) the more his mind races, searching for something to say. He doesn't know what, though. What is he supposed to say about something like this? 

Finally Draco shatters the silence. 

"What is this?" Tight. Strained. A hint of barely suppressed anger. 

Scorpius withdraws his arm and shrinks back in his seat. "It's a D-"

"I know what it is." Draco's voice rises dangerously. "What is it doing on your arm?" His eyes flicker up to meet Scorpius's. Dark and threatening like thunder clouds. 

"The other me!" Scorpius squeaks. "The other me was-" He swallows. "When I switched with him it appeared and... I-it never went away." He bows his head and hugs his arm against his chest. He doesn't want to see the expression on his dad's face. "I'm sorry..." 

"In the other world, you were- I let you become-" Draco draws in a shuddering breath. "Scorpius..." He breathes the word so gently that Scorpius can't help but look up. His dad's eyes are shining now, the soft silver lining of clouds when the sun is breaking through. 

"I don't want it," Scorpius says quietly. "If I could get rid of it, i-if I could never have gone to that world..."

"I know." Draco reaches out a hand to him. "May I...?" 

Scorpius hesitates before stretching out his arm again. His dad's fingers brush gently over the Mark. It feels soothing rather than uncomfortable, and he doesn't flinch. There's a coolness to his dad's touch that's pleasant on this boiling hot day. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Scorpius. Nothing to regret." Draco doesn't look up at him, just studies the Mark and the path his fingers are tracing out across it. "You deserve better than this." 

"But I-" 

Draco sits back, releasing Scorpius's arm, and begins rolling up the sleeve of his robe. "I'm not sure I've ever shown you mine." He holds his arm out for Scorpius to see, brisk and matter-of-fact in his movements, like it's something he's come to terms with over the years. Scorpius can't imagine ever coming to terms with this. 

The Mark on his dad's arm is identical to the one on his own. An indistinct scar, just about recognisable as the shape of a skull and snake. Pale pinky-silver scar tissue marred by the dark red of the design. 

"This is a decision I made," Draco says, looking across at Scorpius. "A stupid decision. I was a child, I wanted glory and power. I didn't know any better, but that's not an excuse. I regret many things about it. Everything it stands for, the darkness I embraced, the things I did, the things I was asked to do, the people I hurt... You shouldn't feel any of that weight. I don't want you to feel any of it. The other you was not you. I hope you don't feel responsibility for his decisions."

"I do, though," Scorpius murmurs. "There were things they made me do... If it hadn't... People were already suspicious of me. They knew I wasn't him, so I had to- had to convince them..." 

Draco pulls his chair forward and takes hold of both Scorpius's hands, shaking them gently. "You did what you had to do to survive. I'm not asking you to be proud of the things you did there, but those things were necessary. In the past I've done things that were necessary. When you're in a bad situation and people have expectations of you... Sometimes that's all you can do."

"Do you think?" Scorpius asks, voice very small, unable to look away from his dad.

"I do." Draco sighs and gently releases Scorpius's hands. "It sounds as though in that world we were all trying to survive..."

"You were one of them."

"And I hope I was trying to protect you," Draco says, leaning back in his seat and folds his arms. "Although it seems as though I did an incredibly poor job of it. I'm sorry for how badly I failed you."

"The other you," Scorpius points out. "Not you. If it's anyone's fault it's his. And maybe Harry's. If it wasn't for him we wouldn't have had the Time-Turner in the first place." 

Draco gives a very small smile. "Does that make me a better parent than Potter?" 

"You're my dad," Scorpius says with a little shrug. He hesitates for a moment. "I thought you might be angry with me. For the Mark. I know it's a bad thing... I didn't know how you would react." 

Draco's expression tightens. "Is that what you thought? Scorpius, I assure you I couldn't be angry with you for this. It would be a little hypocritical of me, don't you think? Especially as this isn't something you chose for yourself. No, if I'm angry with anyone it's myself, the other me, but not with you. Never with you."

Scorpius nods. "Okay..." There's a beat of silence in which Scorpius waits for his dad to say something more, but nothing comes. Finally Scorpius rises awkwardly to his feet, unrolling his sleeves and tugging them over his hands. "I'm sure you have lots to do, so... Thank you. I feel better knowing you know." He starts backing toward the door, but Draco gets to his feet. 

"Wait a moment. There's something else I'd like to say." 

Scorpius hesitates in the doorway, watching as his dad walks toward him and settles a hand on his shoulder. 

"This Mark we both have," he says softly. "It's evil. It's a terrible thing to be associated with. But that doesn't mean good can't still come of it."

Scorpius stares at him, not understanding even a little. 

"Without the war I would never have met your mother. I'd never have had you." He meets Scorpius's eyes, gaze intense. "And that other world... I always knew you were brave and resilient, but I think it brought something out of you. You seem stronger now, more confident." He gives Scorpius's shoulder a squeeze. "Your mother taught me to see the goodness in bad situations, and I hope in time you'll find the good things in this one."

"The light in the darkness," Scorpius murmurs. 

His dad nods. "Precisely." For a moment he stands quite still, then he pats Scorpius once on the shoulder before releasing him. "Now. Would you like some lemonade? Or ice cream. We could Apparate somewhere for ice cream..." 

Scorpius blinks at him. "I thought you were busy." 

"Oh," Draco says, glancing back at the desk. "It can wait. And it's rather too hot in this office. Besides, I think you deserve a treat."

"Do I?" Scorpius asks in amazement. 

"Of course," his dad smiles. "Exams are over, you're home for the holidays, we've survived another year... This is as good a moment as any to celebrate."

"Okay..." Scorpius says slowly. "Can I invite Albus?" 

Draco considers for a moment. "I don't see why not. Call me when you're ready to leave." 

Scorpius nods hurriedly and races for the door. He's halfway into the corridor when his dad calls after him again.

"Scorpius!" 

He rushes back and peers round the doorframe. "Yes?" 

Draco adjusts his cuffs and looks across at Scorpius. "I know it's hot outside. If you'd rather wear a t-shirt... There are spells. For hiding things. I could show you if you like." 

Scorpius flies into the room and hugs his dad as hard as he can.