4Disclaimer: I do not
A group of three teenagers trudged through the wizard hospital of St. Mungo's. The tallest, a pale, lithe boy with warm gray eyes, and long wavy bleach blonde hair, held the two girl's beside him hands in comfort as they made their way to the mental ward. The girl on his right, who had soft, curly flaming red hair in a loose ponytail and sky blue eyes, was named Rose Lavender Weasley. She leaned against her boyfriend, the blonde boy, for warmth and for reassurance.
She, her boyfriend, and one of her second closest cousin Lucy Weasley, were visiting her best friend/ cousin for the first time since he had been admitted to the hospital three months ago. They hadn't been allowed in before that for stupid reasons that made them grit their teeth and clench their fists. On the pale boy, Scorpius Malfoy's, left was a hyperventilating Lucy. Her shoulder length spiky red hair was tucked under a muggle ski cap and her bangs curtained half her face. She was horribly pale in anxiety which cause her freckles to seem larger and more apparent. She was scared of what one of her favorite family members would be like when they saw him.
Would Albus be curled up in a fetal position in a bathtub, blabbering nonsense? Rolling on the floor and laughing maniacally, digging his fingernails into his arms till they bleed? Lucy honestly didn't want to find out what condition the middle potter child was in. All scenarios made her sick to the stomach. Nobody had told her anything except that he had went insane from a freak accident. It wasn't much to go by and that only left reason to panic for the usually collected Hufflepuff. She felt Scorpius' grasp on her hand tighten as they approached the door.
Albus was-no, is the blonde Gryffindor's best friend. He knew that he wouldn't like what was on the other side of the door. He knew that it would haunt him no matter what state the black haired Slytherin was in at the moment. The entire trip there he had remained stiff and silent, secretly paralyzed with fear. He knew he had to act calm and cool in front of his to other best friends at the moment. How would they act if he were to break into sobs?
It wasn't so much as keeping an image, but more so like staying strong for them. He knew that his girlfriend, Rose, was doing the same. Though, she had so many emotions piling up at the moment being pushed back that she felt as if someone were to poke her she'd crack. The three fifteen year olds took a breath in chorus and knocked on the door. The head healer there, a stout auburn haired woman with a long nose and kind eyes by the name of Bedelia, opened the door and smiled warmly at them.
"We're here to see Albus Potter" Scorpius' voice remained even
"Yes, nice to meet you. He's over there at the paints" she gestured to the corner of the brightly lit room to a large span of canvas that was rolled over the breadth of the space on the foot of a plush bed.
Unbelievable. Even when he was completely bonkers, he was still doing art. That was a thing with Al. He loved art. He took muggle art, wizard art, muggle music, wizard music, and all different sorts of clubs related to the subject at Hogwarts. He was even at the top of all of them. Nobody knew where he got it from, but he was excellent at it. Scorpius thought with nostalgia of how he would walk around with an enchanted bulking black camera on a lanyard around his neck, snapping pictures of everything and never running out of space. He would usually come to it where he could recreate the picture in another way, whether painting or sculpting or whatever he saw fit.
He had several trunks stuffed with shrunken artworks. They all missed the grin he would get whenever doing something creative or messy, the twinkling in his emerald eyes not unlike his namesake, Albus Dumbledore. He would fill the Slytherin common room with music and actually entertain them. They all loved Albus. Everyone. He was too lovable in that 'I need you to hug me right now before I kill you for being annoying' way.
He would sport a black velvet fedora with a strip of brightly colored ribbon, a thin scarf, or sometimes square glasses for the sake of it. He told them they helped him concentrate, even though he had his mother's vision. After years of making them laugh, cheering them up, encouraging them, and being an outright awesome friend they had felt it right to visit him when he was in need.
As they got closer to him they saw him kneeling in front of the blank surface, his fingers coated in various colors of paint, they deciphered his unusual expression. It was one of intimate fury, pent up frustration, and confusion. He was biting down on his tongue which was sticking out a little bit and they recognized the familiar display to know he was in deep thought. His vivid green irises were milky, like a blind person's, and devoid of emotion. He was fingering the air before him and above the canvas as if an image would appear corresponding with his hand's movements.
Lucy stepped forward, accidently scuffing her trainer on the ground. Albus stopped his actions and folded his hands across his lap, unmoving.
"Al?" Rose's voice was thick. No response
"Albus?"Scorpius attempted to gain his best friend's attention
Nothing
The sat cross legged beside him, just staring at the tins of goopy paints and at the canvas. This seemed to trigger something as the green eyed boy placed his palm, covered in a metallic gold paint, on the papery material and started to spread it.
For the next hour or so they talked to him, conversing casually, hoping to get a response. Any form of acknowledgement to tell them their best friend was still in there. All he did was staring ahead of him blankly and automatically dip fingers and hands in the paint tins, like a machine. Several times they tried to make out what he was trying to depict, but it was too blotchy and distorted.
Bedelia came over to them shortly after to tell them visiting hours were over. Saying a useless goodbye to the boy they had come in the first place for, they briskly excited the ward and building, secretly glad to be leaving.
Which made them feel all the more guilty.
They didn't exchange any words to anyone at either of their homes, to the concern yet understanding of their families who knew of their previous whereabouts.
It was only when Scorpius was lying haphazardly on his bed that night did warm tears fog his vision.
It was only at breakfast the next morning where Rose choked out a heart breaking sob, followed by a full-out episode to only find comfort when in her families' embrace.
It was only when Lucy was reading in the living room a week later when the realization hit her painfully and she shattered the windows with accidental magic, burrowing her face in her book and screaming into it.
Everyone loved Albus.
Albus was broken.
And so were they.