nerisella's Scorbus fanfic

from the snapchat of albus severus potter

“Aight, do whatcha gotta do bruh.”

…. E x c u s e  m e ?

So… in light of that travesty, I thought I’d give us all the reaction Ron deserved… when he found out Harry was already dead… because Harry didn’t tell him he was going… because he knew Ron would do everything in his power to stop him!!! *puts down megaphone and steps off soap box* 

… Enjoy. )) 

“Any moment, the people for whom he had tried to die would see him, lying apparently dead, in Hagrid’s arms. 

 "NO!“ The scream was the more terrible because he had never expected or dreamed that Professor McGonagall could make such a sound.  

"No!" 

"No!" 

"Harry! HARRY!” Ron’s, Hermione’s, and Ginny’s voices were worse than McGonagall’s.

Harry wanted nothing more than to call back, yet he made himself lie silent.

Their cries acted like a trigger; the crowd of survivors took up the cause, screaming and yelling abuse at the Death Eathers…

“… Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!“ Harry felt himself lowered onto the grass. 

"You see?” said Voldemort, and Harry felt him striding backward and forward right beside the place where he lay. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones?” 

“… He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!" 

Albus started to zip and unzip the top of his hoodie, his fingers moving in a steady rhythm. Scorpius couldn’t help but glare at him a little bit. He moved closer and took hold of each of Albus’ hands, stopping the irritating sound and lowering them so they were held firmly between the two of them. Albus looked concerned as he watched their linked hands, then his gaze moved up when he felt Scorpius lean in.

Albus: Friends? Scorpius: Always.

As the years passed…

We started to forget.

We forgot what you looked like… 

Then we saw you…

so harry gets sorted into slytherin, resulting in a cute smol friendship between him and draco

but they still argue just as much as they do in canon

like literally every other thing that they say to each other is an insult

ron and hermione (who he’s still friends with) don’t really think it’s very healthy

and hermione makes sure harry knows it 

harry’s pretty tired of it, “come on ‘mione, it’s just friendly bickering, we don’t actually mean it”

but when they aren’t bickering and actually working together on something, man, they’re a force to be reckoned with

people literally leap out of the way when they’re walking down the hall out of fear of being transfigured into a toad

they quickly become hogwarts’ “Power Couple” despite not being an actual couple

but they are the best of friends

then 6th year comes along

harry knows something is up right away

draco has hardly spoken to anyone since they got here and insisted on sitting alone on the train as well as at dinner

he hardly speaks to anyone all year in fact

stops throwing insults to harry

and harry is worried af

constantly follows him around, tracking him with the marauders map, trying to figure what he’s up to and why he’s so distant

until he corners him in the bathroom

and draco is bawling his eyes out

harry immediately resumes his best friend duties and rushes over to comfort him

draco just collapses in a heap of tears and cries on his best friends shoulder for ages

he ends up confessing everything to him

and harry promises to help him as long as draco promises not to keep secrets like this anymore

draco looks up at him and is graced with the realization that he’s deeply in love with his best friend

merlin help me

I’ve realised tumblr is pretty dry on cursed child stuff, so I thought I’d share this (since it isn’t in youtube or anywhere on the internet as a full instrumnatal)

This is the scene. It was the length of the whole audio on stage I’m pretty sure (?? its been like a year since i saw the play tho so idk). V sad, full of beautiful moving staircases and longing xxx

11:45:

They had just enough time to make it onto the platform, get their trunks loaded, and say their goodbyes. Molly ushered them all along, wishing that she could just Apparate them all onto the train and be done with it. There was too much to do, too much to say, too m—

All at once, she screeched to a halt. Percy crashed into her, causing the twins to snicker.

A tiny boy was being crossly turned away by a security guard. A boy whose ribs poked through his baggy shirt, whose glasses were broken, whose jaw was trembling as he tried to find his way. Well, surely she could be the person to guide him there? And did he…? Yes! He had an owl! He was one of them!

The poor child; he looked so lost.

Where were his parents?

Never mind, never mind. She would see to it that he would get on the train. But she had to be careful. She couldn’t startle him. He’d run off and that would be the end of it. No, no, they had to be crafty.

11:47 AM:

“Packed with Muggles of course,” Molly said loudly, ushering her very confused children past the boy. “What’s the platform number again?”

“Nine and three quarters,” Percy said. “Mother, how could you have forg—?”

It was George who nudged him as he understood what she was doing. She had done it before, after all, and she would do it again.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

The boy didn’t seem to notice them.

11:48 AM:

“Packed with Muggles of course,” said Molly again, marching her children past once more. “What’s the platform number?”

“Nine and three quarters,” Fred and George screamed in unison.

And still the boy remained lost.

11:49 AM:

“Mum,” Ron panted, tripping over himself as he ran to keep up with her. “Slow down!”

Molly ignored him as she practically flew past the poor boy. “Packed with Muggles of course! Now, what’s the platform number?”

“Nine and three quarters,” Ron bellowed.

11:50 AM:

Molly honestly didn’t care if her entire family missed the train and she had to set off across the UK herself like a mother leading a flock of ducklings: she was going to help this boy onto the bloody train.

She marched past him with a fiery determination and said, “Packed with Muggles of course!”

The boy looked up.

Yes! Okay, this was it, this was it, this was it. Play it cool. He was following them. Listening. Pretending not to.

They stopped.

“Now,” Molly said. “What’s the platform number?”

“Nine and three quarters,” piped Ginny.

Victory!

The next nine minutes were a whirlwind of chaos but they managed to get the boy through the barrier. At Molly’s insistence, Fred and George popped up and helped him get his trunk into the compartment. She handed Ron an extra sandwich and muttered, “Tell him that everywhere else was full.”

He dutifully nodded.

As the train took off, she waved to her children, including her newest one.