House: Slytherin

Year: HoH

Category: Standard

Summary: Everyone told Albus Potter he would die when he met his soulmate. This debilitating disease was wreaking havoc on his ability to breath, and every time he coughed, soft iridescent petals would shoot out from his mouth and fall brokenly around him. He could feel the roots of the flowers in his lung shift within his body. It was truly a horrific disease to cope with, but that wasn't the worst of it. For as long as Albus could remember, he'd been in love with his best friend, Scorpius Malfoy. Although he had no inkling of his true feelings, what Scorpius didn't know was that his disease was slowly killing him. Even if he didn't reciprocate his love, Albus knew he'd always be able to count on him even if it meant ultimate death.

Prompts: Meeting Soulmate [Event]

Word count: 1070 (Excluding Author's Note, but including entire Entry and Title)

Author's Note: can tell you straight up that this was the hardest fic to start. With a 2,000 word max for the entry, I had no idea how to go about it. I wanted and needed this first chapter to be powerful and informative enough while being within word limit of the competition. Naturally, I was looking to for a way to expand this in the future (which isn't the best decision sometimes, knowing how many other WIP's I have LOL), but I really wanted this to be something truly unique!

As always, enjoy

-Carolare Scarletus

There's Sunshine in Your Smile

"It's your lungs again, isn't it," Scorpius asked with a concerned look on his face. It was only twenty minutes into practice and Albus was already feeling the effects of his disease kicking in. He supposed the heat of the sun as it shined down on him and the unnatural humidity of the grounds wasn't helping his situation either. Normally, the vigorous training session wouldn't bother him. Hell, that's what made the excruciating practices worth living, but this was on whole other level. His lungs were literally burning and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. "What did Madam Pomfrey tell you the other day?"

Albus shook his head, trying to prolong the inevitable with laughter. "She told me I needed to drink more pumpkin juice, do you believe that?"

"Hardly," Scorpius replied dryly. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know," he answered his question to the best of his ability, though in the back of his mind, he knew the exact cause of his pitiful state. "Whatever it is, I've got to figure it out before it takes me out for the season."

Albus became accustomed to the sensation of the petals scratching his throat. He knew the symptoms before his body knew, and he could tell just by the foul taste in his mouth that the flower in question was that of the Acacia Blossom, whose yellow petals had been soft against the aching flesh of his throat as he threw them up in secrecy within the boy's lavatory earlier that day. Albus lifted his head and stared at his best friend. It had been the second time today he'd thrown up and the petals lay saturated in a nearby puddle where his feet once stood.

For as long as he could remember, this crippling disease has been wreaking havoc on his life. He hadn't any previous family ailments dating back to his ancestors, but there was something about this particular disease that wasn't right. Albus hadn't been able to pinpoint it exactly. E4verytime he was around Scorpius, it seemed to flare up the most. It was as if his body was yearning for something, reaching out in the most unusual of ways to tell him that whatever his body was craving was right there in front of him. He didn't know anything about the language of flowers; all he knew was it was somehow linked to Scorpius.

"Crice, Potter, "Scorpius seethed with false bravado before chuckling. "If you want to sit this one out, you're more than welcome to. I'd understand if you're scared to face my team." He grinned as he delivered his last statement.

"I'll be fine," he assured him confidently, standing tall and presenting his friend with an equally devasting smile that tramped his attempts at a friendly rivalry. "Scared, Malfoy?"

"You wish, Potter."

"I'd watch my back if I were you. Maybe you can get your uncle, Professor Longbottom, to prescribe you some kind of anti-biotic. Perhaps soil will be in your great interest?"

"Come on, mate." Albus shook his head wildly, think about his father's friend from school. They were both war heroes. Although his godfather had ended his career as an Auror, he'd taken a liking to Herbology at an early a\ge but he didn't think he'd know anything about his disease. "He's not as bad as you think once you get to know him." He said that as if Scorpius wanted to know him outside of class.

Scorpius scoffed as they made their way slowly to the middle of the field. As expected, both teams were warming up, throwing artificial quaffles to one another. Half of the pitch was up in the air, showing off their mad skills as they waited for their appropriate captains to arrive so they could start practice. Albus didn't know when he'd fallen in love with Quidditch. Perhaps it was when his father got him his first broomstick when he was just one year's old, something he'd shared with him that his late grandfather had done with Albus' father for Christmas. It was memories like these that made him wish his grandparents were alive. Maybe then, he'd understand the disease that was slowly killing him. His father and mother hadn't the slightest clue the cause of it; all they could do was watch as he grew weaker and weaker with each passing year.

"I don't know, Al." Scorpius looked up, his aristocratic face sharpening with the light of the sun as it beat down upon him. Albus looked at him, consideringly. He hadn't known it before, but he was quite handsome. Throughout their school years, they'd had a considerable amount of girlfriends and never once did he think of his best friend in any sort of romantic way. As he stared at him, his chest pinched again, this time the pain of the roots shifting painfully from one lung to another. He hissed loudly. The restriction only lasted a moment before he was able to breathe properly again, but this time, there was no proper warning.

Albus dropped to his knees and threw up, his eyes stinging from the sheer exhaustion which crippled his body with a variable vice. His body shook, and his hands clenched into fists, turning his knuckles white as he tried to ward off another volatile episode. This time, he was sure he would die. The pure magnitude of the situation was too much to bear, and as he bent his head against the lush green grass, he saw Scorpius' image emerge from the darkness that was slowly dawning on him. His grave expression brought him back from the brink of pain. For a moment, he admired him as he never admired anything before. Through thick and thin, Scorpius was always there to ensure his protection and safety. Breathing heavily, fighting the raging storm within him, he dared a look at the carnage of the unknown disease that was threatening to ruin him and end his life.

This time the flower was a daisy, a symbol of the soulmate. With its soft, white petals and simple fragrance, it didn't dawn on Albus until now what the disease was and what it could mean for his friendship with Scorpius, nor did he imagine his life rested in the hands of someone who was completely oblivious to the turmoil that lay within him.