Art of Magic

Hello there, my name's Arthur Davenport, but you lot can call me Art. Care of Magical Creatures professor and I'm lovin' every minute of it. I'm just as much your friend as I am your professor so if ever your young teenage selves need a place to decompress, my doors are always open.
Shoot an owl my way, I love to talk.

He’d been more than ready to storm into that hospital room and tear Scorpius apart, he really had been. Art Davenport had full fledgedly thought up of a “Scorpius Malfoy, you are dead to me” speech when he heard Scorp had pulled a stunt with Sectumsempra and almost gotten himself killed…again.

But then Lucy told him what actually happened and why Scorp did what he did. He just wanted to remove his scars…he just wanted to forget. And then instantly, for some unknow reason, all of Art’s anger had died out. Suddenly, seeing that Scorp had just been trying to fix things and start over, made Art want to help, want to support the boy and at least give him some company at St. Mungo’s.

And so there he was standing in the doorway of Scorp’s hospital room, just an hour or two before the Halloween Ball which he was to chaperon, wearing a fluffy brown bear ears, a fluffy brown sweater, skin tight brown corduroys, large fluffy brown gloves in the shape of paws, plastic claws sticking out of them and with a bag in hand that read Honeydukes across it. Art Davenport was a bear. A big, fluffy, teddy bear. And he didn’t regret a thing.

Sure, he could have visited Scorp and then gone home and changed and then gone to the ball. but this was so much more interesting(plus he didn’t really mind the looks he was getting from guys and girls alike when he walked through the street looking that cute.) And so with a deep breath and a smile on his face, Art walked into the room of a sleeping Scorp. He sat at the edge of Scorpius’s bed, placed the bag of sugary garbage in front of himself and intended to wake Scorp, but stopped. His eyes caught the sleeping form of the younger man, so peaceful and calm. He knew once Scorpius was awake, the troubles of being him would plague him once again, but for now he was at rest. And it made Art so happy to see the boy so at ease. At the ease he deserved so.

“Oh Scorp” Art sighed, placing a fluffy paw gently on Scorp’s shoulder. He stared at the teen’s pale face for another moment before using a plastic claw to poke him in the chest. “Hey, Malfoy, wake up. I’ve got a bone to pick with you, buddy.”