A/N: Welcome to yet another Scorbus fic! Don't worry, this isn't going to be a long one; four chapters at most. It's completely separate from Out of the Woods, but I really hope that you enjoy it just as much. Because I just love naming stuff after songs, I figure I should tell you that this fic as a whole is inspired by the song 'It's A War' by Blackbird Blackbird (seriously, check it out, it's wonderful), while this chapter is named after the song 'Careful' by Paramore. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Chapter One: Careful

"The truth never set me free, so I'll do it myself"

Albus' POV:

Albus Severus Potter was a loser; there were no two ways around it. He simply attracted the wrong sort of attention, and never failed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Things had been that way ever since he had arrived at Hogwarts, a shy and awkward eleven year old, and truth be told, that was exactly the way he preferred things to be.

In fact, in just over six years at Hogwarts, he had formed a comfortable sort of co-existence with his few friends, his flamboyant family, and the general student body. For the first year or two, they had clamoured for his attention at all hours, expecting him to be like his older brother, now a formidable Quidditch player hoping to be on the England squad one day. Once they realised his true personality, however, and his unfailing ability to make any conversation awkward beyond belief, they had all but one backed away.

Maria Lambert was, in all honesty, a godsend; she was the yin to Albus' yang, someone he knew he could trust and rely on no matter what. It helped that she was just as much of an outcast as Albus; a Ravenclaw, dizzyingly intelligent though she would never let it show, a small, slight figure you would never notice in a room until it was too late. In class or any other social situation, she would refuse to say a word, but around Albus, she became an almost unbelievable chatterbox.

Albus found himself regretting almost constantly that, during his Sorting (an arduous Hatstall that had gone on for nearly seven minutes), he had talked the Hat into letting him choose Slytherin over Ravenclaw. If it hadn't been for Scorpius bloody Malfoy, who had intrigued him from the second he had seen him on the platform, and who he had found himself thinking about throughout the train ride and the Sorting, his life would have been so much simpler.

But things were never simple when it came to Scorpius Malfoy, and they never had been.

Intrigue had given way to obsession, and at some point that he couldn't - or wouldn't - identify, this had given way to full-blown infatuation.

Despite being in the same House for over six years, Albus had barely spoken more than several words to Scorpius at a time; when in his presence, he became incapable of stringing sentences together, as if his mother tongue had simply abandoned him.

Then again, Scorpius was everything Albus could never hope to be.

From the second he had arrived at Hogwarts, he'd been well-known and well-liked. When it came to Scorpius, people seemed willing to forget about the past and his father's name in a way they simply wouldn't for Albus. The Malfoy heir had immediately befriended everyone in their year in Slytherin, leaving Albus alone, though at the time that was how he wanted things to be.

Everything about Scorpius just seemed so effortless. He was effortlessly clever, while Albus constantly struggled to keep up in lessons. He was effortlessly cool, swanning around with his posse while Albus skulked around the school with his one friend. He wasn't even on the Quidditch team, and yet girls clung to him as if he were the star player, while Albus had tried out for the team in his third year and decided he should never, ever draw that much attention to himself ever again. He was effortlessly everything, and it tore Albus apart.

He was a self-styled 'bad boy' and yet all of the teachers still fawned over him. If Albus wasn't so helplessly in love with him, it probably would have irritated him, but instead he just found it fascinating, the way Scorpius seemed to be able to get away with anything and everything without the usual repercussions. If Albus behaved like that, storming out of classrooms or smoking at the top of the Astronomy tower, he didn't doubt that he would be swiftly expelled. Then again, he tried not to draw that sort of attention to himself.

Over the past few years, Albus had learned that love was nothing but a heartbreaking, messy nuisance, and yet he still loved Scorpius. He knew nothing could ever come of it, though, so for the time being he was perfectly content to sit on the sidelines: watching him with furtive eyes in lessons, trying not to watch him when they were in the dorms getting dressed each morning and evening.

It was a constant cycle of infatuation and loathing that Albus feared would only be broken when they graduated, and he would never have to see Scorpius again; it couldn't come soon enough.

He hadn't a clue what he wanted from the future or where he thought his life would take him, only that he hoped it would take him far, far away from Hogwarts and Scorpius and all of the prying eyes and whispered voices that had never been able to simply let him be. Perhaps he would one day find his place, but he had spent so long being lost that the notion of being found simply felt ridiculous.

Sometimes he wished he could be who everybody expected him to be; the perfect example of what it meant to be a Potter. But the Potter family already had James for that, and when James wasn't enough, Lily was always there to fill in the gaps. While James was all strength and courage and a perfect encapsulation of Gryffindor House, Lily embodied the very spirit of Hufflepuff, which of course nobody saw as some kind of flaw on her part. She was so very happy and so very loved and so very, very humble about it all. She was unfailingly kind, and Albus hated her for it.

He hated it because he had tried his best to emulate her, to prove to everybody that he wasn't just side-eyed glances and awkward exchanges during partnered work in class, but his tongue tripped over itself and his brain tended to fill in the gaps with sarcastic remarks like some kind of bizarre coping method for the social situations that he so loathed. From then on he had vowed only to be himself, and look where that had gotten him -

Alone on a Saturday night, wandering the corridors aimlessly while his housemates celebrated their latest Quidditch win in typical boozy, flamboyant style. Albus had been to one or two of his House's notorious parties, but the beer had tasted wrong and sour in his mouth and the music was just too loud and there had been nobody he could talk to, and so each time he had headed upstairs to bed, lingering in the stairwell for just a little while on the slim chance that someone might notice his absence and remark on it, but such a miracle never occurred. Not that he had expected anything different; he just wanted to be certain.

Wandering the labyrinth of Hogwarts' corridors and passageways was one of the few things that Albus enjoyed about school. Even without the Marauder's Map that his brother had nicked less than surreptitiously from their father's office and continued to rub in his face whenever he could, Albus knew his way around with an absolute certainty that seemed to balance out all of the other uncertainties in his life.

He knew the Prefects' rounds and duties almost off by heart; the school year was still reasonably fresh, and there had been a few close calls. He knew which teachers liked to go for an evening stroll to discuss their pupils at length, and which portraits didn't like to be disturbed. He had almost found a pattern in Peeves' behaviour, and had only fallen victim to his pranks twice in nearly seven years.

Hogwarts and its mysterious ways were as familiar to Albus as the back of his own hand, which was why it came as such a shock when he sauntered past the boy's bathroom, his mind drifting a million miles away, and heard the distinct, jarring sounds of somebody crying. It was a kind of crying Albus was familiar with, the kind he usually encountered when he was lying in bed late at night, the hideous, devastating kind where the tears flowed freely, with no thought to who might be listening, whose prying ears and eyes might be nearby.

He lingered in the doorway, his ear pressed to the wall, his mind at war with itself as to whether or not he should enter. When the sobbing increased in both insistence and volume, he realised he had no other choice. Sure, he was probably about to partake in yet another awkward conversation in a lifelong string of awkward conversations, but if someone was hurting, he couldn't simply let it happen. If he could help, in his own awkward way, then surely it would be worth it.

His hand hovered above the door handle, his mind still whirring. Should he? Shouldn't he?

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door gently forwards. He stepped forward carefully, conscious of making any slight sound. Perhaps he could assess the situation first, and only then decide if helping was the best course of action.

He had to fight back a strangled sound when he saw who it was in the bathroom.

Scorpius Malfoy.

It took Albus a few seconds to realise what he was seeing, for his brain to catch up with what was right there in front of him, but once he did realise, he stumbled backwards, into the door, fumbling at the door handle.

In all of his eighteen years of life, he didn't think he had seen somebody look as broken as Scorpius did then. He was a complete mess, his arms shaking as he gripped tightly onto the sink. In the mirror, Albus could see the tears in his eyes and the way they ran down his pallid cheeks. His hair, usually so neatly gelled back, was a mess, all tousled like he had been tearing his fingers through it in frustration. Albus wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak.

He could only watch, and try to comprehend what he saw.

But what he saw didn't make sense; it felt like his eyes were betraying him, betraying what he believed he had known for certain. All of his preconceived perceptions were shattered, yet he couldn't quite understand how.

Because instead of the usual layers of robes he wore even in the summer, he was in what Albus thought must be his underwear, but it was unlike anything he had seen before. His stomach, his waist, the curve of his hips; there was something distinctly feminine about them. Something soft and vulnerable and unreachable.

And wrapped around his torso, some slightly shiny material like a vest, but shorter; why?

Albus took another step back, ready to flee, but of course, at that moment, he tripped slightly, clutching onto the wall for support. Scorpius' eyes snapped to meet his through the reflection in the mirror.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He demanded, his eyes wide, frenzied. His voice was thick with tears and it broke Albus' heart all over again.

"I…" Albus tried to speak, but the words simply wouldn't come, "I'm sorry, I -"

"Whatever," Scorpius muttered, turning to face him. He leaned against the sink, watching him, considering, "You're here now. You've seen too much, you know too much."

"Seen what?" Albus asked, once he had somewhat regained his composure. Scorpius didn't answer; he was too busy fighting back tears again. Albus felt through his pockets, pulling out an old but unused tissue, "Here."

Scorpius leant forward and snatched it from his hands, blowing his nose unceremoniously. It was perhaps the ugliest he had ever been, but Albus watched him softly, with wonder. Trying to understand, trying to pretend he wasn't obviously staring.

In a few moments, Scorpius had more or less cleaned himself up, but he had made no attempts to put his robes back on. He turned back to Albus, watching him curiously. Albus flinched under his gaze, feeling warmth spread across his cheeks.

"You're a bit of an enigma, you know, Albus Potter," Scorpius mused, his usual smirk playing across his face. It unsettled Albus a little, to see him so like the Scorpius he saw in the classroom or on the corridor rather than the crying wreck he had been before. He had smoothed his hair down with water from the sink, and the shaking had become more of a light trembling.

"You're, uh… Quite a mystery yourself," Albus replied, simply because he felt he had to say something. He couldn't stop his gaze from edging slightly downwards, grazing across hips and curves that didn't quite make sense.

"Well, it's not for lack of trying, I must say," Scorpius said easily, far too easily. When his eyes followed Albus', he blushed, almost imperceptibly, "You're confused right now, aren't you?"

"Just a little…" Albus admitted stiffly. Scorpius snorted with derision. Albus froze where he stood; had he done something wrong? Had he again broken some unspoken rule of social conduct?

"I wouldn't blame you for a second if you were," Scorpius said. It was incredible, how composed he had become; back straight, chin held high, completely unafraid, "You now know more about me than perhaps anybody else in the world."

"I hardly know you at all." Albus mumbled, unable to meet his eye.

"On the contrary," Scorpius began. He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, frowning, his pale blonde eyebrows furrowed in thought, before he took a step forward, "Look at me. What do you see?"

"I don't… I don't know what you mean," Albus choked out through a series of short, shallow breaths, glancing up at the ceiling, down at the floor, at his hands, anywhere but at the person in front of him.

"Yes you do." Scorpius took another step forward. There was now only a matter of feet between them; the distance was far too much and far too not enough all at once. Suppressing a sigh, Albus forced himself to look.

"I see… You," He began, "The same face, the same smile, the same hair. But…" He paused, "The… Hips? The curves? They don't make sense. They don't match up."

"They don't match up!" Scorpius threw his hands up into the air, stalking back to the sink and staring at his own reflection for a few seconds, "That's exactly it, don't you see?"

"Not exactly, no…" Albus said, beginning to feel rather stupid. There was so much of the world he was yet to understand, but desperate to learn about, and here he was, realising for the first time just how little he truly knew.

"I've never said this out loud. Except to my parents," Scorpius spun to fix him with a look, "Do you promise not to tell anybody?"

"Who would I possibly tell?" Albus asked.

"Good point," Scorpius said, smiling briefly, if a little sadly, "Okay. So. Basically… Ugh! Why is this so hard?"

Albus had no answer for him.

"I am a boy." He began, biting his lip.

"Yes?" Albus said, unable to phrase it as anything but a question.

"But, when I was born, the doctors assigned me as female…" With a sigh, Scorpius slid down the sink until he was sitting on the floor. He pulled his legs in close around him, like a barrier, "It never felt… Right. It was never me . Does that make sense?"

Albus's mind was whirring at a million miles an hour. It explained a lot, he had to admit. Unable to speak, he simply nodded.

"Mum and Dad were always accepting…" Scorpius looked at Albus, his eyes pleading, begging him to understand. He was trying, really, he was, "When I was three they gave me this name. It was what they would've called me, had I been… Born right. No. That's not it. I was born me. The body just… Never quite fit."

"So…" Albus began, his tongue feeling its way carefully, apprehensively around the words, "You were born a girl?"

"No." Scorpius said, so softly considering how wrong Albus had been, "I was born a boy. I have always been and always will be a boy, but that's just… Not how I came out. How I was… Formed. Does that make more sense?"

"I guess." Albus said; and it did, if he truly wrapped his mind around it. He couldn't imagine how it must feel, and he felt his heart ache with the sadness of it all. He longed to reach out, to touch him, to let him know how he felt, to let him know how hard he was trying to understand but his hand stayed by his side, twitching with the effort of doing nothing at all.

They fell back into a comfortable silence. Albus tried not to watch too carefully as Scorpius got to his feet with a sigh and quickly pulled his robes back on, before settling back into his previous position.

"What about you, then?" He asked. A smile flashed across his face, so fast Albus would have missed it had he not already been staring intently at him.

"What about me?" He blinked once, twice, wondering what there was about him that warranted questions.

"Surely you have some kind of secret to share. An eye for an eye, all that." Scorpius leaned ever so slightly forward, chin perched atop his knee, his eyes alight with obvious curiosity.

Something deep within Albus longed to tell his deepest, darkest secret; that he was hopelessly in love with the very person sitting in front of him. Some part of him longed with the utmost desperation just to blurt out what he truly felt; which hadn't changed at all in the past ten minutes. If anything that love had only deepened, intensified, at being privy to such a huge and secret part of Scorpius' life.

"No." He replied instead, "Nothing."

"Oh, come on, you're kidding, right?" Scorpius snorted and leaned back against the sink, his stormy grey eyes still piercing Albus' gaze. "A guy like you doesn't have any secrets?"

"What do you mean, a guy like me?" Albus asked, completely taken back.

"Well..." Scorpius trailed off, his expression pensive. Albus still felt extremely weird, sitting in a bathroom talking to Scorpius Malfoy. It was more or less the longest conversation he had had with somebody other than Maria in his entire time at Hogwarts, "You're… Different. I didn't think I'd ever heard you talk until tonight. You're the son of Harry Potter, but no one knows anything about you. You're hardly mentioned in the Daily Prophet, compared to James and Lily. I guess I just want to know why. It sounds like it could be a secret."

"It's not," Albus shrugged, cringing at the very mention of his siblings; a reminder of just how inadequate and imperfect he was, "I'm just… quiet. There's no secret."

"Yeah, but… There's quiet, and then there's you ." Scorpius leaned forwards again, "I don't think I would have noticed you at all if if weren't for the family name - and believe me, I know how much of a burden it can be. Why do you think my parents won't let me tell anybody? They're scared people will judge us, that they'll be shunned all over again after trying so hard to build themselves back up. So, I ask again. Do you have any secrets?"

"You're nosy," Albus replied, rolling his eyes. Scorpius glared, but the bubble of laughter that escaped his lips betrayed how he truly felt about Albus' statement, "Yes. Of course I have secrets. I am still human."

"That's reassuring," Scorpius interjected. This time it was Albus' turn to fix him with a glare. "Well, you never know…"

"Whatever. I do have secrets but… I can't tell you."

Scorpius pursed his lips as he rose to his feet, "Well that's just not fair."

"Life's not fair," Albus said with a self-deprecating smile in Scorpius' direction as the other boy headed towards the door, where he would have to somehow step over or around Albus.

"Hilarious," He responded dryly, "Well. This was fun, but I'd better be off."

"Stay away from the left wing of the third floor corridor," Albus said in as nonchalant a tone as possible.

"Uh, why?" Scorpius asked.

"Peeves'll be there. He always is this time on a Tuesday night. He's a pretty predictable poltergeist."

"You really are full of surprises, aren't you?" Scorpius mused. Inexplicably, he bent back down, facing Albus once again. Albus had to fight to keep the blush from rising on his cheeks, to keep his gaze steady against those grey eyes, like a twilight sky on a stormy summer day, "Why did I never realise?"

"No one ever bothered to find out." Albus said simply.

"I think I'm going to have to make more of an effort in future," Scorpius said with a smirk, his gaze still fixed intently on Albus, "You're an enigma, Albus Potter, but I think I can figure you out. Goodnight."

With that, he was gone, pushing past Albus and into the dark, empty corridor. Albus felt the door come to a stop against his back and sighed, wondering how the hell all of this had happened. His one goal for the year had been the same as every other year; to keep quiet and stay out of trouble, to be careful above all, but this year, it appeared that trouble had come looking for him in the form of Scorpius Malfoy. That he intrigued the other boy was incomprehensible, unbelievable. Scorpius was so many things, whilst Albus was just… Albus. What was there about him to cause intrigue?

Realising his mind would simply be going around in circles for the rest of the night, he pushed himself to his feet, heading towards the mirror, where he watched his reflection for a few seconds, wondering what there could possibly be about him that could have interested the other boy. Then again, Albus had never laid his soul bare to anybody before, and he reasoned that something as huge and as meaningful as that would probably have quite an impact.

Frowning at the deep shadows under his eyes and his scruffy black hair, he turned and headed back to his dorm, wondering all the while what the future could possibly have in store for him concerning Scorpius Malfoy.

It was strange, how he could learn a secret so earth-shatteringly big about him, something that should probably have altered his entire perception and opinion of him, yet all he did was love him more. He hadn't thought it even remotely possible, that he could open his heart up any more; perhaps it just went to show what a hopeless case he truly was.

In a way, he didn't really mind at all.

A/N: Please let me know what you thought, either by following, favouriting, or leaving a review! I hope you guys like trans!Scorpius, I've wanted to write about him for a while, and I sincerely hope you enjoy the rest of this fic as well. I don't know when the next update will be, as I don't really have a regular schedule for this... But hopefully it won't be too long a wait. Thank you for reading!