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Set the World on Fire	By : jessebarbieheart Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Albus Severus/Scorpius Views: 3701 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of her delicious characters. Though I wish I could, I will never make proffit from this lovely fic. Nor do I own the rights to Fun's song "We Are Young".

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: Two days of updating in a row! I must be crazy! Actually, the previous chapter had been written for a few weeks and this was nearly finished. I managed to write the rest (though I really could have gone on and on if I hadn't found a way to cut off from the next...). Hopefully I can get the next one out quite quickly as well.

Don't ask me how or why, but this chapter is written off of "Cough Syrup" by Young the Giant. It just...seemed to fit somehow, so it's not a literal basis.

This was a tedious, yet fun, one to write. So, I hope you enjoy.

A horrified shriek escaped Albus. His hand flew to his mouth to try and contain it as his face paled. This was a name he identified straight away. There was no question as to where he had heard it. This was a name that truly instilled fear into him.

Slowly, he turned to look at Tom, understanding the connection between everything now. He knew the Riddle name from his father. He'd spoke of a Tom Riddle who had turned to dark magic and became a horror to the world. He had become Lord Voldemort.

"But you're...you're dead. My father killed you," Albus whispered and shied away from everyone. Soon he was in a corner, clinging to the wall to keep himself grounded. "He killed you twenty-six years ago!"

"And I brought him back," Scorpius said impatiently, following him to the corner. His wand was raised threateningly, showing that he wasn't going to take any nonsense from Albus. "I brought him back with your help, Albus. He drew a life-force from your virgin blood. None of this would have been possible without you. I need you to remember that. You have a part in this, so don't go placing blame."

Terror pounded in Albus' ears as he took this all in. A horrific being that Harry had worked so hard to rid the world of was back. This was something he was sure no one had expected. Once dead, a person was supposed to remain as such. One time before, he had come back to life after death. Both times, Harry Potter had defeated him.

Was it possible that he would never truly be dead for good?

"That's not possible..."

A slash of Scorpius' wand brought a gash to Albus' cheek. "Let's skip that, shall we? Obviously, this is possible as we are all seeing it with our own eyes." He raised a brow, and then stepped back towards the table. "I'm not going to stand here and try to reason with him, my Lord. We have bigger things to do tonight."

Albus reached up to wipe away the blood on his cheek, smearing it over his flushed skin. He had to suck it up and be an adult. Face the reality of the situation. This was all happening, whether he liked it or not. That didn't mean he had to take it lying down, however.

A determined look crossed his visage as he followed the blonde to the table. "Stop being such a selfish, self-centered, arrogant prat!" Albus grabbed the back of his robes, pulling him backwards. Scorpius stumbled before clawing at the other's arm to regain balance. He wouldn't keep it for long, though. Al pushed him up against the wall, landing a solid punch against his jaw. A shot of spit to Scorpius' face was Albus' last word before he walked away.

"How dare you!" Lucius raised himself up, yanking a dark-wooded wand from the serpentine head of his cane. With it pointed at Albus, he hissed at his grandson, "Scorpius, get up and stand your ground! Do not let a Potter of all people get the best of you." His lip curled in disgust, eyes narrowed at them both.

"Enough!" Breath coming in harsh, fast rasps, Albus looked over to Tom. His stern and handsome jaw was squared in a resolution. "Fighting within my ranks will not be tolerated." His eyes cut over to the elder Malfoy, danger playing within. "Sit down, Lucius."

Slowly, Lucius took his seat again and put away his wand. A nerve twitched in his temple, his ache to absolutely destroy Albus blatantly obvious. He hissed over to the corner, glaring at his grandson, "Sit."

All pride and dignity out the window, Scorpius pushed off the wall. He made for Tom's right hand seat, but halted at a dark look from his superior. "Ah, ah, ah... That is not your seat anymore, remember?" A flicker of injury crossed over Scorpius as he sat beside his grandmother, four down from his precious master. "Albus, come." Tom gave a pointed look to the coveted seat which Albus took with a superior air.

He might not have wanted to be here, necessarily, but he would make the most of it. He was his father's enemy's prized one. Until he figured out what to do with that, he would just go with it.

"We have business to deal with," Tom said quietly, but with the hush of the room he was easily heard. "It has become quite apparent that many of my Death Eaters perished at the Battle of Hogwarts. Many of the ones who survived, reside in Azkaban. Many, still, have become too old to be of any use to me." Tom raked his fingers through his hair, as if to emphasize his faux-youth. "So, it is necessary that I call my remaining ranks to me. Those no longer loyal enough to heed my call are disposable. From there, we will easily be able to search for new followers."

Tom's stern black eyes scanned everyone in the room. He cleared his throat, nodding towards Lucius and pulling a wand from his robes. Albus eyed it with a certain, unexplained interest. It emitted a sort of power that he longed for himself. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Tom whispered when he caught him staring, a wicked grin pulling at his lips. "Now, Lucius, as you are the only one in this room that has taken the Mark, you have the honors."

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius stood, crossing to Tom and kneeling before him, left arm extended towards the man.

Before the intricately carved, knotted wand could make contact with the faint, curious tattoo upon Malfoy's arm, Albus interjected. "There's a flaw with your plan, Riddle."

This time, Albus felt the wrath of Tom's icy stare. At this moment, his heart pounded with his aching nerves. He truly saw Voldemort, rather than a handsome, dark-haired man. "And what might that be, Potter?" the angry wizard seethed at him. Clearly, he didn't enjoy being told what to do. Nor preferred his given name.

Albus took a deep breath and swallowed his doubt. "One of your...Death Eaters is currently rather intimate with my father. Harry Potter. The man who destroyed you two times already. If you call all who wear that mark, you will be inviting your downfall." Albus had seen that same branding upon Draco Malfoy's arm once, though then it had appeared as more of a light scar. He now knew what it meant. He also knew that if Draco felt the call to come here by his supposedly dead former-Lord, Harry would find out.

Pointing this out to Tom wasn't to warn him or keep him from danger. Albus' hidden intentions were to protect his father. He wasn't so sure this was something Harry was prepared for anymore. Twenty-six years later, he was seeing the world with a happier, calmer outlook. No longer an Auror, his skills were rusty. If he were to come here, Al feared he would die.

Though he was unsure what he wanted to do or who he should pledge his allegiance to, he was certain he didn't want to see his father perish. He was family, after all.

"I am aware of Draco Malfoy's relationship to Harry Potter. I would not overlook such a simple detail. You insult my intelligence." Tom sat back in his seat, lazily flicking the wand between his fingers.

A second later, Albus had fallen from his chair. He was writing on the floor, experiencing the worst pain he could possibly imagine. His bones felt as if they were pulling in every direction at once. His blood was on fire. It was impossible to tell if the ear-piercing screams he heard came from his own throat or were only in his head to drive him crazy.

What seemed like hours later, it was over. A cold sweat upon his skin, Al curled into himself and pulled in desperate breaths of air. The room was devoid of the terrible shrieks. Replacing it was the sound of maniacal laughter. He dared a small look around, hands shaking as he attempted to sit up. The three men to Tom's left were creating the chuckles. But the Malfoys across from them were doing a better job of remaining composed. Though there was no mistaking the mirth in Lucius' eyes, or the motherly pity the woman wore like a cloak. Scorpius seemed to be the only one who had no emotion at all. He just sat there, staring blankly down at the table.

"Anything else to add?" Tom hissed down at him, voice layered with acidic superiority. Albus shook his head as minimally as he dared. "Excellent. Retake your seat."

It took Al a good, solid minute to find his legs again. After which he hurriedly dumped himself into the chair. The mere support of its back was not near enough to keep him stable.

Undoubtedly, he saw why Voldemort had been so passionately sought after during both of his reigns. He was heartless and relentless. A tyrant.

"Harry Potter will not survive this time. His weakness for my Death Eater as well as his cocky attitude will be his demise." Forcefully, Tom grabbed Lucius' arm again. He pressed the tip of his wand to the mark, grinning as it turned jet black, the snake winding its way through the skull's mouth.

No one dared speak. The only sound in the room was Albus' stilted breathing. They were all waiting. Everyone was eager to see who would actually show up.

A gentle knock to the door brought their answer. Snivy's small head poked in through the crack as it opened just a bit. "M-masters," the young house elf said tentatively. "There are visitors. Snivy let them in. Does masters want to see visitors?"

"Let them in." Tom was on his feet, towering over the table full of his followers. His expression was delightedly expectant as the elf stepped back and allowed the door to open further.

Two men entered, curiosity plainly written over their faces. Then shock, taking in the man who so expectantly awaited their arrival. The older man scratched at his graying beard, frowning down at the others gathered around the table. He wasn't understanding. It wasn't clicking for him.

Draco Malfoy, however, understood completely.

"You have aged well, my Lord." He grinned softly, scanning the shocked faces of his family. It seemed as though he wasn't shocked in the least by this meeting. He did, though, completely avoid looking at Albus.

"That is not the Dark Lord," the elder man muttered, squinting at the young Tom Riddle.

Tom stepped away from the table, taking measured steps towards the men. "Out of anyone, I never expected you to be the doubter, Rodolphus," he tsked. "I am surprised you showed, however. Most thought you dead, like your wife."

"I went into hiding," Rodolphus Lestrange said, the timbre of his voice a little stronger. Apparently, upon hearing his fallen Lord's voice, all doubts were erased. He even made an awkward bowing motion.

With a nod, Tom stepped in front of them. For a long moment, he simply stared them down. Eventually, Rodolphus broke eye-contact, but Draco refused. "There is something different about you, Draco. You are no longer a sniveling coward, like your father."

"I grew up. I gained...some dignity." Draco sneered down at Lucius for a moment, and then snapped his eyes back onto Tom's. "I know it may not exactly be the Malfoy way, but..." He shrugged in the silence that followed his words, looking past Tom at his son. Scorpius hitched his chin into the air, unnerved and defiant at his father's words.

Tom gave a soft sigh, twirling the wand between his fingers. He seemed to be considering the blonde's sturdy words, turning them over and over in his mind. "Are you still loyal to me, Draco?" he said when the silence began to make everyone else itch.

The corner of Draco's lips turned up in a quirky smile. "I showed, didn't I?"

"That proves nothing!" The front of the patient, merciful Lord was gone. Tom's eyes flashed red as he glared down at Malfoy. He breathed in slowly, closing his eyes as if to calm himself. Then said in a dangerous whisper, "You're going to have to prove yourself to me, Draco. I need to know for certain where your loyalties lie."

Draco bowed slightly, peering up at Tom through his long lashes. "Name your price, my Lord."

"Harry Potter. Dead. By your hand..." The smile that spread over Tom's visage, consuming his being, was one of absolute deviation. It brought a kind of alarming silence to the room, like the calm before the storm.

Shock registered in the blonde's eyes for just a moment. But, keeping up an act, he quickly blinked it away. The dark grey orbs shifted for the first time over to Albus. Something within them suggested pity or an apology. Maybe a bit of blame. Not taking his eyes from his lover's son, he muttered, "Is that not a pleasure you would like to reserve for yourself?"

"I want you to do it."

Albus stared on, panic rising in his throat. He wasn't sure if what was going on could be trusted as real. It seemed too horrifying. He swallowed, frowning up at Draco, pleading for him to say no. If he truly loved Harry, he would say no! He would defy this evil man and save his father.

That was too much to ask.

"Yes, my Lord."

"You slippery, grimy, loathsome git!" In a rush of insults, Albus was on his feet. His lungs pulled in air so quickly he feared he'd faint, and his fists curled into angry balls. "My father loves you! And this is what you do to him? You're heartless and spineless! I don't see what he ever saw in you... What happened to your dignity?"

Now he knew. He knew that he could no longer remain on this side. It was another way he was like his father. Deep down, he knew that good needed to prevail. Voldemort could not win. Could never win.

But he couldn't get away that easily.

"I thought you would have learned your place from the last time," Tom hissed. He didn't even bother to turn. He flicked his wand and was met again with Albus' screams. The snickering restarted, and this time Lucius didn't even hold back. He laughed low and deep as he caught his son's eye.

Draco's hands were twitching at his sides, like he ached to do something. To help? But he didn't dare. That would surely be the death of him. His own life was too previous to waste like that. Even if Albus was Harry's son.

It took a little more strength for Albus to recover this time. He ached and hurt in places he never even knew existed. Real tears trekked down his cheeks. At the risk of being tormented, he let his true agony show. Maybe it would stir one of the younger Malfoys into action.

No such help came. No one even bothered to pick him up off the floor. Tom had gone right along with business as if nothing had happened. He was addressing all of his Death Eaters now, speaking of branding them all with Marks. Urging them to find acceptable additions to their ranks. The only one who was even acknowledging his presence was Draco. His eyes remained glued to Al's face, his own contorted in a mild version of confusion.

As soon as he had finished detailing his orders, Tom left with the flip of his robes his only goodbye. The men and woman gathered in the room remained motionless for a good moment. Once it seemed he was not returning, they stood one-by-one. The three men who had been on the left side of the table strode out silently. They didn't seem to be much for talking. Though on the way out, they did all glare at Draco. He seemed slightly shameful under their looks but didn't speak a word.

Not until his family stood. Rodolphus had retreated from the room by then so it was now only the four Malfoys and the injured Potter. Slowly, Draco turned his gaze up to his father first, then down at his son. Their resemblance – the long, blonde hair, steely grey eyes, and harsh demeanor - made his stomach turn. "I was right to worry about you," he said quietly, powerful words ringing like a shout. He momentarily looked at the woman, shaking his head. But he had to avert his eyes in disgust. "How could you let him do this? After everything..." A far off look crossed his face as he mentally relived the last war.

"If you're so stunned and upset, why the hell did you show up here? To spy? The Dark Lord will be so thrilled to hear of this," Scorpius scoffed, stepping forward with his arms defiantly crossed.

"It is no business of yours why I answered the call." Draco closed the gap between them. The sharp sound of a slap rang through the tense air. He grabbed his son's chin, glaring him deep in the eye as his cheek grew red. "You have no idea what sort of chaos you have brought on this world. On this family. I was happy, Scorpius. Now I'm just pissed off." He pushed the younger man away from him and crossed over to where Albus still lay injured on the floor. "Get up, you're going home."

Scorpius didn't even hesitate a moment in sending a curse at his father. A small cut appeared on his left forearm, marring his Dark Mark. "You cannot take him. He belongs here."

Albus pulled himself up off the floor, eyes pleading with the other. Begging to let him go. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be a part of this. He didn't want his father to die. "I want to go home," he said weakly.

"You are home."

Draco gripped onto Al's shoulder, the force of it clearly showing the anger he was attempting to contain. With one simple push, he guided him forward, towards the door. "You're sick, Scorpius. I am ashamed to have had any part in bringing you to life. And your mother? Were she alive..." He stopped for a moment, sighing and shaking his head back and forth. "You would have broken her heart."

"I think you're doing a fine job of that yourself." Another, slightly deeper, cut appeared just below Draco's eye. Though he didn't flinch, the color drained from his face. The subtle sign of the terror he felt deep inside. "Albus Potter stays here. If you go any further, I will be forced to try and stop you."

"Don't make this mistake again, Draco." Lucius' words were like ice, the way they visibly cut through his son. "Don't fail your Lord again."

Albus felt the familiar sensation of being squished through the channels of travel, accompanied by an unbearable pain in his left arm. When his feet landed on a hard surface, his knees buckled and he felt to knees with a sharp intake of breath. Tears stung his eyes again, but he didn't have the willpower to hold back. They flowed free while he cradled his forearm. Something hot and sticky that he assumed to be blood coated the fingers of his right hand. But he didn't dare look down at the injury he'd sustained. He knew he'd pass out if he even tried, his head swimming already as it was.

"Sorry...think that was aimed for me," Draco said gently, kneeling down beside him and taking a hold on his arm. Al began to pull away, but the soothing reassurance of the elder man's touch to his skin drained away his fears. "It's quite deep..." A tearing sound came before Albus felt a soft cloth covering the blood. "This will have to do for the moment. Can you walk?"

Through the salty shield covering his eyes, he was able to look up and see that they were definitely somewhere different. To both sides were brick walls, reaching up towards the darkening sky. It had a familiar, safe feel to it. With help from the other, he raised up to his feet. Though he was a bit wobbly and light-headed from blood-loss, the good energy surrounding him made him feel like he could walk. But not very far.

Draco's arm came around his waist to steady him as he took shaky steps forward. When they reached the mouth of the alley, Al was able to better look around. A blissful smile crept up onto his face when they turned to the right and entered his father's apartment building. Steps he took out of mere memory took them up to the correct door. The moment Draco unlocked the door, he burst inside and fell onto the comfort of the couch. Just the scent of it could make him forget what he had just been through.

"Merlin! What happened to him?"

"Harry, calm down. He's hurt. I need you to get me a bowl of warm water, a towel, and a washcloth. Now."

The voices echoed in his head, flickering on and off as he began to fade into unconsciousness. A cold hand slapped him, causing a jolt of his body back to awake. "Don't fall asleep," Draco hissed, wiping something warm and wet down his injured arm. He only groaned and nodded weakly.

After a bandage had been securely placed around his arm, he was helped up into a better sitting position rather than the crumpled mess he had laid in before. Down his throat slipped a potion that warmed him instantly, his arm beginning to tingle and color returning to his face. Albus' eyes fluttered open, giving him a full view of his father's living room. To his side sat that very man and he couldn't stop himself from curling up against him in a type of half hug, half desperate cling.

"Draco, what happened?" Harry asked gently, protectively draping his arm over his son.

"We can't stay here," was all the Malfoy man answered with, wiping blood from his hands with his jaw squared. "He knows where you live. He knows where I live. We need a place that's...hidden. Somewhere safe." His silver eyes held determination, but behind that was still a flicker of anxiety hiding behind it.

Picking up on this, Harry stood and helped his son up. Al clung close to his chest, afraid if he were to leave the company of this safe haven of a man, they would get him back. He would be forced back to the Riddle house. Back to Scorpius. Back to Voldemort and his sickeningly beautiful smile.

"We'll stay with Teddy." Harry looked down at Al, swallowing hard. Then back to his partner with a worried half-smile. "It's safe there." He didn't question any further for now as they packed bags. Albus sat on the couch, eyes hollow and haunted as they stared down at the floor. Any courage he'd displayed back at the manor had drained. He was now just a shell, having to relive the things he'd witnessed and helped to bring on the world.

He was ashamed of it all. Especially of the thoughts ringing through his mind of Scorpius. Of how he wanted him; wanted to be beside him; loved him.

There was a perfect calmness to Harry's actions. He gathered everything they'd need and led them out the door without a backwards glance. This wasn't the first time he'd have to leave a home behind for the safety of others.

They were standing on the quiet street of Grimmauld Place in what seemed like no time. Harry stepped up onto the sidewalk, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he took both Draco and Albus' hands and walked closer to the crack between numbers eleven and thirteen. Before their eyes, a house began to appear directly in front of them. Though he raised a brow, Draco said nothing and Albus looked on it like he would a home.

"Only a select few know of this place. All allies. Most family. We will be safe here." Harry stepped up onto the stoop, turning the door handle and taking a step inside with a bright smile lighting up his face.

A terrible wailing sound met their ears as Draco shut the door behind them a little harder than he should have. Albus rolled his eyes, placing his hands over his ears and walking past the curtains that had flown open. An insane woman glared down at them from her paiting as she ended her screaming. The noise was replaced by her shrill shouts of blood traitors and dishonor.

"Shut up, woman," sighed a tall man with dark turquoise hair as he rounded the corner into the front hall. "Harry, Albus. What a lovely surprise." He smiled, tilting to the side a little and waving at Draco. "You two still together, huh?"

Harry stepped forward, face serious and he whispered to his godson. Teddy's expression also failed him with every passing word. He swallowed hard, stepping back and giving Al a second survey. "Victoire's just started dinner. Why don't you three go find rooms and... I'll let her know. You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like." This time his smile was filled with pity and slight panic before he departed downstairs.

"We'll stay on the fourth floor." Harry regripped his suitcase and resolutely walked towards the stairs, Albus shadowing him.

Draco, however, stayed where he was. He stared at the woman yelling insults straight at his face. She knew who he was. She kept telling him what a betrayal he was. What a slimy weasel he was. He said softly, looking only slightly over at his partner. "This is a Black house..."

"Yes, it was my godfather's childhood home. He left it to the Order during the second war. After it ended...I had no use for its memories. So I let Teddy move in. He is a Black down the line afterall..." Harry shrugged, ascending the stairs with soft steps. "Ignore Walburga. What she says... It's not true."

"Right..." Draco shook his head slowly and began to follow after him. But he knew deep down that the insults were anything but lies. With just a look, the painting was able to tell exactly what he was doing here. He was betraying everything he'd ever known.

This war was going to be different for him. He was betraying his family. His Lord. Everything he'd ever grown up knowing.

This time, he was going to truly lose everything if his side won. A chill ran down his back as the weight of that settled into him. It seemed to ebb away, however, with one look from those jade eyes as they looked back at him. Harry smiled gently at him, somehow able to convey one important thought –

He wouldn't lose everything.

A/N: Tell me what you think? Good or bad, I like to just see reviews!

I am also offering email updates for this fic. If you are interested, leave your email address in your review and I will email you when I get another chapter up.
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Set the World on Fire