For Quidditch League Round 4, where I had to write about Albus Potter
Dedicated to my darling wife, Rish, because Liza was stupid (and listened to me and Sam) and killed characters.
xox
He is glass: easily shattered, but not treated gently. He is tossed around, his emotions suffering a wild coaster of twists and turns, his heart falling apart slowly, deteriorating until it is left to nothing. He is the box that reads 'Fragile' thrown at the bottom of the pile of needs and desires of the world.
Scorpius Malfoy is one of those people that everyone is told to look out for. 'He must be up to no good, stay away from him' and 'Do you see that look in his eyes? Don't mess with people like that.'
The warnings build up and form solid walls around his abused body. He is the boy who never fit in, who was looked down upon by his own father, who had always set the highest expectations for him to live up to. He is the boy who never looks for comfort because every single person who could help him can just as easily tear him down again.
No one ever said it'd be easy, did they?
x
Scorpius is stuck admiring from afar. He's not one to stand up in the crowd just to find a way out when he needs to get away.
Watching Albus walk through the castle, red carpets practically laid out in front of his feet, Scorpius finds his way right into the comfort of the shadows. Potter is the one who is always in the papers for the simple things that everyone experiences, but of course, since he's a Potter, he's better than everyone else. He certainly acts like it, at least.
The thing no one knows about Albus is that his carefully crafted, perfection of a mask is simply that: a mask. No one has ventured into the depths that he hides.
Not until the mask is removed within the safety of the shadows.
o
Scorpius hadn't noticed the careful wit and quick humour of Albus, nor the way his teeth shine, blazing like pearls, blazing like flames. Albus is a fire that's burning his defenses, singeing your edges until he can work his way into Scorpius's burnt self.
Shirts come off and fingers light as air dance up and down his back. The old abandoned room they used is safer, more private, than anywhere else they could go. There was no one there to see them, no one to watch what they did and tell them to stop, that they shouldn't be doing this. The only ones there were him and Albus, and he certainly wasn't asking Scorpius to stop any time soon.
He smells alcohol on Albus's breath, like he'd tried to drown out the pressure of the world. Scorpius knows that doesn't work, and he knows Albus's memory will be blurred in the morning, but he doesn't care. He isn't one to stop making mistakes, especially not when he knows he's making them.
x
Scorpius,
Last night was nothing. Forget it, it was absolutely nothing. We can just pretend it never happened. I was drunk, I didn't know what I was doing.
Bye.
Albus.
He crumples the note in his fist, eyes alight with fire and the pang of tears. He throws the letter into the flames, watched as it is reduced to a pile of smoldering ash.
He watches as Albus begins to wear his crown again, to resume the throne as king of the school. Scorpius is just a peasant again. He had thought, for one night at least, that somehow Albus could bring him out of his rut, that he could help Scorpius to rise through the ranks with him. He had thought that trust wasn't as fragile as this. Scorpius is rapidly losing faith in humanity, and no amount of nostalgia (if one could even call it that) could bring him back to his brief elation.
o
Someone had tampered with the hourglass that is his life, and that someone's name was Albus Potter.
There was no way that it could be working properly. Sand was piling up far too fast in the bottom as his grief and remorse piled up in the remnants of what used to be a heart.
Scorpius knows he shouldn't have placed any trust in Albus. Trust only exists to serve one purpose: Hurt. He can't trust anyone anymore, he never could. Somehow, he knew this was coming. It was inevitable.
So why did he let himself care?
o
"Albus," he whispers into the silence. Albus stares.
"What?"
"I… I'm sorry, for before. I shouldn't have let myself get so—get in so deep. I was stupid."
"You could say that," Albus remarks, his voice acidic. "Now if you don't mind, I'm in the middle of something here."
Scorpius looks down slowly, turns on his heel and walks away without a backwards glance.
x
He was stupid. Fucking stupid. That's all there was to it.
Scorpius feels hurt and unwanted and betrayed. Albus didn't betray him, he betrayed himself and his paper-thin walls. He knows his emotional limits, and it was all on his own shoulders if he overpasses that.
Self-control was never your specialty, was it Scorpius?
o
Angry thoughts plague his mind: angry at the world, angry at Albus, but mostly, angry at himself. Maybe he's simply selfish, or maybe just foolish enough to believe that Albus Potter would ever love him.
Scorpius seems to decide that even his familiar shadows weren't enough of a safe haven. He slinks back to the dank, lonely darkness, where Albus's face won't be filling his thoughts. He didn't want to dwell on Albus any longer than necessary. Scorpius begins to sit only in the back corner of lessons, keeping his head down and on his work.
He was tired of the hopeless longing. He was tired of letting Albus Potter worm his way into Scorpius's mind and take control. He was sick and tired of everything.
o
"Hey, Al? Have you heard from Scorpius lately?"
"No," he says, too quickly to be entirely honest. "Why?"
Albus received a strange look at that. "It's just that he's been really quiet lately. I mean, you're a bit closer with him than I am, I just thought maybe you'd know something…"
"Well I guess you thought wrong." Albus's tone is clipped.
"Look, Al." Lily takes both of his hands in her own, squeezing them lightly until he met her eyes. "You weren't very inconspicuous the other night, I saw the two of you walking off alone. What happened, Al?"
"Lily, I—it's not my fault if he's being quiet. It's not my fault if he's—"
"I'm not saying it is your fault, Al, I just thought maybe you could talk to him. Just… to find out what's up." There's a faint glow of desperation in Lily's brown eyes.
"Fine. Fine, I'll—I'll see what I can do. But I can't just… ask him what's wrong, Lils."
"Well you have to find out somehow, Albus. Write him a letter, I don't know. Just do something. He's been very… off lately." Lily gives Albus a slightly curious look before stalking back off to sit with her friends.
x
Albus sits on his bed, curtains drawn and wand tip light. A blank piece of parchment sits on his lap, quill hovering over a pot of ink. All around him, his dorm mates were snoring, but the right wording had worked its way to the forefront of Albus's mind, and he began writing, quill moving feverishly.
He works on the letter for long enough that the sun is threatening to poke out by the time he's happy with it and puts away his quill. Sealing the envelope, intending for it never to be opened, Albus stows it in his trunk before falling asleep.
o
"I wrote it, Lily. The letter."
"Oh, really! Great, what'd he say when he read it?" Lily inquires.
Albus flushes. Wasn't it enough that he wrote the letter in the first place?
"Where is it," asks Lily knowingly.
"Lily, I can't. I can't have him read it, I don't want him to—"
"Fine, Albus. Don't worry. I'll see you later."
x
"Hey, Albus. I… I um, just wanted to say that I'm sorry, okay? Don't feel bad, it's not your fault, I—"
Albus stops dead in his tracks and stares at Scorpius, asking quickly, "What are you talking about?"
"Your—your letter," Scorpius replies slowly. "Lily gave it to me, said you planned to but didn't get the chance—"
"She what?!"
"Yeah, she said you were writing a letter and that I should read it, that you would've given it to me yourself but…"
Albus sighs, hands balled up into fists. "I—I didn't really write that for it to be written," he murmurs.
"I kinda figured. I didn't think you would've said those things to me directly, but either way, I'm glad you did."
"Scorpius, I—" Albus starts, tears now welling up in his eyes. Scorpius put a finger to Albus's lips softly, before sliding it out of the way and replacing it with his lips.
"I love you."
Scorpius moves back, wiping a lone tear off Albus's cheek with a steady thumb.
o
He isn't alone any more. He is the one who now has a support system named Albus Potter. He is the one who has somewhere to turn, and a shoulder for Albus to cry on when he needs it.
He has walls that have extended to fit around another who had stolen his heart.
He is no longer Scorpius, the lonely, damaged boy. He is Scorpius, the happy, confident boy.
Who ever said easier was better?
xox
Enormous thank you to Liza who helped me with the plotline of this story!
Please leave a review! Thanks for reading.