Summary: Scorpius wanted. He wanted more than anything else in the world.

Unfortunately, it was too late. Not the realisation - that came years ago - but acting upon it. Why had he been so foolish as to wait?

Rating: M

Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Potter; Draco Malfoy/Albus Potter

Tags: Not CC Compliant, Pining, Anger, Frustration, Jealousy, Angst, Retrospect, Off-Screen Sexual Content


Disclaimer: Not mine. The original story, that is. Characters original story lines are all JK Rowling; I just extrapolated in an entirely amateur-ish fashion :)


Chapter 1: Calm

Albus was a calm person.

That was how Scorpius had always seen him. For the entire time he'd known him, Al was the calm one of the two of them. That wasn't to say that Scorpius was particularly short-fused, or that he was quick to jump into an argument should the opportunity arise. It was just that in comparison that Al anyone would seem to fall a step or two short of tranquillity.

Scorpius had first started to suspect such a key characteristic of Al's personality from the moment they'd met. It was a pervasive impression, one that Scorpius suspected a blind man would have been able to see. It all started on the Hogwarts Express.

Scorpius saw the Potter boy sitting alone in the train compartment, gazing out the window as he awaited the last of the passengers to board and the clock to strike eleven. Scorpius nearly walked past the door of the compartment and window that peered within. A quick glance showed a single occupant, yes, but the pair of trunks suggested he was only temporarily solitary.

Scorpius wasn't a confrontational person, or at least he hadn't been when he was eleven. The Malfoy name still held somewhat negative connotations and Scorpius had always known his place, known that there would be people who looked down their noses at him for nothing but his ancestry. It didn't really make sense to him, not at that age and not when his father had done his best to shield him from most who would expose him to such loathing, but he accepted his father's words anyway. Just as he would those he'd afforded him the day before.

"The Potters are a good people, Scorpius. Don't make the same mistake I did by not realising that. By not… acting upon it."

Simple words that had imposed nothing but confusion upon Scorpius. He knew the Potters were 'good people'. The entire world knew it. But his father's mistake… Draco Malfoy wasn't one to confess personal flaws. When Scorpius thought about it, he wasn't sure if he'd ever heard him speak of his own errors before. Ever.

It was that memory, that realisation more than anything, that paused Scorpius in step. It paused him as he caught a glimpse of a dark head with overgrown bangs half-turned away from him towards the window. He'd seen Albus Potter's profile numerous times before. Who in the Wizarding world hadn't?

Don't make the same mistake I did.

The words rung in Scorpius' ears, confusing but encouraging nonetheless. Without quite knowing why, he slid the door into the compartment open and took half a step inside.

Albus turned to look at him. Turned slowly, blinked slowly, and just as slowly tilted his head. He looked like an inquisitive puppy; Scorpius could almost see his ears pricked and tipped forwards. The smile he gave was just as incremental as every other one of his movements and for some reason it seemed to brighten the room just a little. How was he so calm, so comfortable, given their circumstances? Wasn't he nervous about going to school? About getting sorted and facing his knew housemates and starting classes and… and…

No. For some reason Albus didn't appear any of that. The impression that was afforded was almost peaceful. Accepting, as though some trigger had overridden any nervousness within it. It was thoroughly strange, yet still somehow comforting. Encouraging enough that Scorpius swallowed and took a step further into the cabin.

He stuck out a hand with all the formality his father had instilled within him. "My name's Scorpius Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you, Albus Potter. It's my hope that we can be friends."

Albus stared at his hand. He blinked. Then he raised his gaze to meet Scorpius' once more. Though his eyes had grown faintly confused, he still smiled. He sat up slightly in his seat and reached a hand form. The grasp he afforded Scorpius was warm and comfortable, not loose and tentative as his slightly vague expression might suggest but not too tight either.

That had been the beginning of their friendship. Of the friendship, for to Scorpius it was the most important one he made throughout school. More important than those he shared with any of the rest of their Slytherin housemates, because to Scorpius' and everyone else's surprise – except, apparently, Al's – they were both sorted into Slytherin. It was more important to Scorpius than that he shared with Jacinta, his first and only girlfriend of all of sixth months in fifth year, of Rose, the Head Girl and comrade to his position of Head Boy.

It didn't take Scorpius long to deduce that it would probably be the most important he would ever had.

He grew to know Al well. Al, not Albus, because apparently he hated his full name even if the slight smile that arose whenever he stated as much suggested he was more long-sufferingly in his acceptance of it. He learned that despite the supposed cunning and ambition of all Slytherin members, Al largely lacked a competitive bone in his body, that he didn't get jealous when others beat him and that when their O.W.L. results were sent out and Scorpius received higher grades than he, Al was genuinely happy for him.

Al was a nice person, and people just tended to like him.

He was a good student but not an avid studier.

He loved his family and spent a good portion of his afternoons just with his older brother or – more often – his younger sister when she arrived at school.

He never asked for anything, never demanded, and accepted what others offered him with a smile as though it was a gift. Because Al was a nice person.

But more pronouncedly than even that he was calm. Or at least he was calm until he… wasn't.


"It doesn't make sense."

"To you, maybe."

"I believe I just said that."

Al shrugged at Scorpius' words, turning back towards the television. He was half reclined on the couch, slumped over the arm so that his own arm dangled nearly to the floor over the side. Scorpius had unconsciously tugged Al's socked feet into his lap as soon as they'd sat down alongside one another. That was the way they were, the way they had always been. Scorpius liked to simple be in contact with Al, to touch him in a way that for some reason was comfortable. Comforting. He didn't know exactly why such was, knew he cared for Al though simple 'care' was a vast under-exaggeration, but he didn't quite know why such simple contact would fill him with such ease. Shouldn't having another person's feet thrown all over him supposed to be weird?

It wasn't, though. Not to Scorpius. Not if it was Al.

But Scorpius hardly considered that. He wasn't watching the television either, of which some oldies movie with shoddy CGI characters that battled against humanity. Scorpius didn't even know why they watched it – Al didn't like action movies and Scorpius wasn't all that fond of television as it was. Even so, that was only a small contributing factor to that which drew Scorpius' attention towards his best friend. His most important friend.

He shook his head slowly. "I though you liked working at the café. Didn't you say you liked working with everyone there?"

Al's face scrunched just slightly in a way that on anyone else wouldn't really have been an expression of disgruntlement at all. He blew upwards in something of a sigh that fluttered his overgrown bangs. "I did."

"Then why? Why would you switch jobs if you already liked the one you were working in?" Scorpius found himself frowning, flicking distractedly at Al's feet. "Isn't it all supposed to be saving up for your college fees?"

Al nodded, still not looking at Scorpius. It was difficult to tell if he was truly watching the movie or if he was just deliberately avoiding looking at Scorpius. It could have been either but Scorpius suspected the latter. He knew that the objections that always rose on the tip of his tongue when Al brought up his college intentions – that he should just ask for a loan from his parents, that he shouldn't put himself through the months and potential years of underpaid labour to make his own way from scratch – would be deflected. Al was like that. For all of his calmness, his tranquillity and largely unshakeable amicability, Al was stubborn. He was just like his siblings, even if it was less noticeable in him. It was another thing that Scorpius had discovered of him.

Frown deepening, Scorpius flicked pointedly at Al's toes once more. "Then why'd you quit?"

Slowly, Al drew his gaze sidelong towards him. His stare could always capture Scorpius, freeze him in place for no other reason than that it meant that the entirety of his attention was focused upon him. Scorpius would happily abandon all other attention in the world for that which Al could briefly offer him.

Dropping his chin onto his hand, Al shrugged once more. "In short? Because the job your dad's offering me pays better."

Scorpius swallowed. The job his dad was offering Al. It wouldn't have been out of courtesy that Draco had asked Al to work for him; even as nothing short of a better-paid intern, Scorpius' father wouldn't have thrown Albus Potter a bone simply because he was his son's best friend. Draco Malfoy wasn't like that. He would have seen something in Al, something in him that he thought he could use in his potion shop that was little more than a hobbyist store for a wealthy lord than a source of income, even if it did make a pretty penny. Scorpius had never had all that much time for it. His interests lay in quidditch and since leaving school he'd been scouted for numerous potential teams before settling in the Westend Wraith. He'd hardly had the time to consider his father's work.

He did now, though. Now that Al was involved, it suddenly took a front seat priority. Maybe Scorpius was thinking about it too much but… why? Al didn't have to quit his job at the café that he had professed upon numerous occasions had a 'nice atmosphere' and he'd be happy to work for until he saved enough that doing so was unnecessary any longer. The sudden change made Scorpius uneasy.

Something in his silence must have alerted Al to his concerns, for he sighed and nudged Scorpius' thigh with one of his captured feet. "Why's it worry you so much?"

Scorpius forcibly drew his gaze from Al's slight frown towards the television. He didn't see more than vague shapes flashing across the screen. "I don't know. It just feels…"

"Is it weird that I'll be working for your dad?"

Scorpius snapped his attention back to Al probably a bit to quickly for his denial to seem entirely believable. "No. No, it's not that. Seriously, it's not. I'm just – I don't know, it's just…"

As he trailed off, Al slipped his feet from Scorpius lap and slid up the couch towards him a little. He tilted his head a little, a small smile touching his lips. "You're not a very good liar, Scorpius."

"Actually, I am," Scorpius refuted, disregarding the fact that in saying as much he he was practically confessing to his falsehood. "I'm a very practiced liar indeed. All Slytherins are."

"That we are."

"With the exception of you, of course."

"Hey, I resent that."

There was absolutely no resentment in Al's tone to emphasise his words. Scorpius couldn't help but smile, even if his uneasiness persisted. "It's true. You're way too innocent to be a Slytherin. I always wondered how you even got sorted into the same house as me."

"Hm," Al hummed, shrugging a shoulder. As his gaze drifted sightlessly back towards the television, his expression became wistfully contemplative for a moment in a way that Scorpius found a little confusing. He disregarded it a moment later, however, when Al turned back to him. "If it really bothers you I don't have to do it. It just seemed interesting, and I was always sort of good at Potions at school."

That much was true, Scorpius couldn't deny. And in thinking that, he knew he couldn't ask that of Al either. He shook his head. "No, it's fine. It's just… my best friend working with my father is…" He sighed. "I'll get over it."

"Yeah, go out and fly to clear you head," Al teased, though with more than a touch of sincerity. He more than anyone knew that Scorpius sought solace in flight.

"No, seriously, I will. And you never know, having you around might actually cheer Father up a little."

Al frowned slightly in his usual vague concern. Al was always ready to express concern for other people. "Is he still upset that your mum left him?"

Scorpius nodded. He personally wasn't all that affected by it – in his opinion he was surprised that Astoria had remained married to Draco for so long. He'd long anticipated that a divorce sat upon the horizon before it had happened in his final year of school, just as he was sure his parents had known it was inevitable. And yes, Scorpius' father was still hung up on the end of his marriage, but it was the loss of marriage itself more than his wife that seemed to affect him. Draco hadn't been in love with Astoria any longer. Not for years.

"You're the kind of person that tends to cheer people up," Scorpius said, smiling at Al.

"I think you're confusing me with Lily," Al replied. "James always likens me more to Auntie Luna than anything."

"I like your Aunt Luna. She's nice."

"She's vague and kind of a little strange."

"So are you."

Al smirked, more amused than offended at Scorpius' words. He snatched a pillow from where it had been kicked off the couch to the floor and whacked Scorpius with it. Or at least whacked as much as Al was capable of, which wasn't very much. Scorpius doubted he had any more of an aggressive bone in his body than he did a competitive one. "You're an arse," he said, rising to his feet.

"You love me."

"Of course," he replied, calling over his shoulder as he made his way towards the kitchen. It was an offhanded comment, one that had been voiced more times than Scorpius could recall, but he would always, always have to tamp down on the longing that rose within him at the sound of them. Just as he struggled to avert his gaze from Al's waist as he straightened his shirt over the top of his jeans, from his casual, drifting step as he made from the room. Al didn't think like that about him, didn't feel the same way as Scorpius did. He hadn't asked Al but he knew that much.

To the sound of clattering in the kitchen from where Al was likely raiding the pantry, Scorpius turned back towards the television. Not to watch so much as to stare listlessly and think. He didn't care about Al working with Draco, not really, but it still felt strange somehow. Strange that Al would be working for his father, that Al would be with Draco when Scorpius wasn't around. He didn't quite know why it bothered him but for the first time Scorpius wished that his time wasn't so consumed by training sessions for the Wraiths. If he could just be there, even if only for the first few days Al worked with Draco, then –

"Goddammit, I'd hoped you'd be gone by now."

Turning towards the sound of James' voice, Scorpius immediately adopted a bored expression. James Potter, star Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies mixed team, stood in the door to the hallway directly across from the kitchen. He slouched against the doorframe, a scowl upon his face and arms folded. He was a big man, larger than his father and subsequently Al who resembled Harry Potter the most out of his children but the absence of glasses. Even so, Scorpius had never really found him intimidating. A rival, certainly, but never discomforting.

Leaning back into the couch, Scorpius attempted to channel his inner Al in appearing as calm and comfortable as possible. "Good afternoon, James. How was training?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" James grumbled, scowl deepening with a curl of his lip. It was no secret that he disliked Scorpius. That dislike had been nothing but disregard when they'd been at school together, even with their quidditch rivalry, but it had spawned into something greater since they'd both started playing on a professional level. Scorpius didn't dislike James, exactly. He was a bit of a prat, true, but he could put up with him for Al's sake. Al thought James a prat too, but he said as much with unwarranted affection.

Shrugging, Scorpius turned his attention back towards the television. "Not particularly, actually. I was merely making polite conversation."

"Why are you always here?" James said bluntly. Scorpius could hear the snarl in his voice. "Whenever I come home you're always here."

"Believe it or not, I actually visit to see Al, not spy on you," Scorpius replied.

"I have to question that."

"What, my eight year friendship with your brother?"

"No," James spat. "The sincerity of your claim. Everyone knows the Wraiths have used underhanded tactics in the past, so I would expect you to be just the –"

"James."

Immediately, Scorpius drew his attention towards the kitchen. Al stood in the doorway, face blank and a bowl of popcorn in his hand. So that was what he'd been doing; Scorpius hardly spared the observation a thought. He couldn't, not when the entire room seemed to focus upon Al.

He crackled. He seemed to radiate energy in a way that bellied the blankness of his expression, the calmness he always wore and even now emitted in a fashion of sorts. Scorpius knew what it was, just as he knew James registered it from his uneasy shifting in place.

When Al got angry, he didn't shout. He didn't rage and accuse or demand and throw blows. It was his magic that responded, rising in a whirlwind around him that was nearly tangible for its thickness. Just like right then. Scorpius could feel Al's magic. Years of experience as Al's friend told him that he was angry even before he continued speaking in a deceptively mild tone. Very angry.

"What the fuck, James?"

James shifted again. Scorpius heard more than saw it for he couldn't look away from Al. His expression smooth, his eyes half-lidded and head tilted just slightly. He would have seemed casual, entirely calm, if not for the magic. Scorpius had always been a little enchanted by such displays. If it wasn't for what it meant, what unseen emotions it represented, he would have been almost sad to witness it so rarely.

"Al, I didn't mean –"

"James. What the actual fuck?"

Scorpius heard James audibly swallow. "It's nothing, Al. Just some… friendly banter."

"Friendly banter," Scorpius echoed. He wasn't sure if he was agreeing with James' words or mocking. them

Al's magic welled once more, even if the only change in his stance was a slight slouch into his hip. It rippled through he air, undulating like a wave of heat. "We talked about this."

"We did –"

"You said you wouldn't do it anymore."

"I know, I –"

"You promised me you wouldn't, James."

Scorpius nearly winced in sympathy for James. That tone was… it was almost painful to hear, and more because it was utterly devoid of emotion but for the magic that braided through it. James wasn't intimidating, but when Al – calm, vague, soothing Al – was angry he very, very much was. Scorpius couldn't blame James for how subdued his reply was. "Sorry, Al," He mumbled. He sounded like a thoroughly chastised child.

Al was silent for a moment. Then he walked slowly back to the couch and lowered himself to the seat at Scorpius' side. "Bugger off, James."

James left.

The magic remained crackling around Al for nearly an hour after that. Scorpius slowly eased himself back into a semblance of casualness at Al's side, while Al, for all his ensuing anger, apparent from that fizzing magic, appeared to do the same. He plucked at the popcorn, slumped back in his seat and watched the movie as though he was entirely comfortable. As if he hadn't just cowed his older and significantly larger brother into running away with his tail between his legs.

Scorpius had always been a little in awe of Al for that. Al was a calm person, but over the years Scorpius had come to realise that such tranquillity was something of a veil he'd drawn over himself, masking a hidden potential. Scorpius didn't know why, but that was what he'd learned. Beneath that veil, only rarely rising, lay any and all of the contained anger, the frustration, the disgruntlement and disgust and objection that he never spoke. That he never even seemed to feel.

When Al broke his calm, the whole world seemed to grow wary.


A/N: If you like the chapter, or have anything to say, please leave me a review to let me know your thoughts! Please!