A/N: This was written mostly because I was sick and upset, but also for the 'Pick Your Own Prompts' challenge. Hope you enjoy. Slash, so if you don't like, don't read.
Albus Severus was, for lack of a more suitable word, a rebel. He was a rebel, but not like his brother.
James Potter would hex someone six ways to Wednesday for giving him so much as a dirty look, and he wore his famous head of hair—the crown of Potters—with inflated pride. His eyes were raging and brown and empty. Whatever evil plot rampaged in his mind, it wasn't to be seen by the public eye.
Albus was different. He'd violated his hair with spells as soon as he had the chance, and he was colder. He wasn't angry. He never raised his voice. He was cold, and hateful, and perfect for the House he was sent to. Albus was born a Slytherin, and they looked up to him.
Scorpius did too.
* First Year *
Albus rocked his chair back onto its hind legs in Transfiguration, his hands behind his head, nestled in his wild, thorny black hair—which was black then—his eyes skating around the room. He was a sun of ice, glowing frostily, so close and yet so far. Too beautiful to look at.
His classmates daren't sit next to him, and so the chair next to him at the back of the room was empty, being eyed warily by the rest of the Slytherins as they walked into the classroom all together and noticed him, already there—it was hard not to notice him, to be frank. There was an equal amount of chairs in the classroom as there were Slytherins, meaning that one unfortunate Slytherin would have to face the wrath of the Sun of Frost.
There was a beat, and then the Slytherins were a blur of green, rushing into every seat except the vacant one beside Potter. Scorpius attempted to do the same, but his foot hooked under the shoe of a fellow classmate and he came crashing down to the floor beside Potter. His face flushed, and he felt all eyes digging holes into his back.
He glanced up at Potter, and was startled by how vibrant his green eyes were. They were like emeralds, embedded into the space where the irises of his eyes should be, beaming like there was some hidden light source encased inside of them. Scorpius was even more shocked when Potter snorted.
"You okay?" Potter asked, amusement laced in the line of his mouth and how his eyes twinkled.
Scorpius scrambled to his feet and brushed the dust from his robes. "Fine," he replied curtly, a blush building. Then, he glanced around for an empty space, in vain. All were taken, except the dreaded one. Scorpius turned back to Potter.
Potter raised an eyebrow. "You can sit next to me. I don't bite, in case you were wondering."
Scorpius laughed nervously and took his seat, trying his best to ignore the sympathetic looks of the rest. As to avoid a conversation, Scorpius opened his Transfiguration textbook and pretended to be engrossed in its contents. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Potter, and could swear he looked faintly hurt.
* After Class *
Scorpius was loath to admit that he had not taken in a word of the lesson, but it was true. It was his first ever Transfiguration lesson, and he couldn't remember a word of it, all because of Potter.
"Hey, it's Scorpius, right? I'm Melinda Zabini. I was just wondering whether I should start the Transfiguration essay now, or tomorrow. When are you starting it?" gushed out a brunette Slytherin classmate as she rushed to his side, struggling under the weight of her giant stack of books.
"There's an essay?!" Scorpius exclaimed.
Melinda grimaced. "I thought you looked spaced out. Oh well, I'm sure you can ask Albus Potter for help, he looked like he knew what he was doing."
Before Scorpius could protest, she was gone, wobbling around with her books.
Why would he ask him for help? It was his fault he wasn't concentrating or making notes in the first place, with his striking eyes and nibbled lips—no, what was he saying? Boys and boys can't date!
He shoved the thought to the back of his mind.
But as much as he hated it, Scorpius knew he had no other option but to ask Potter for help.
* In The Library *
He found him in the library, poring over a Quidditch book. Just like in Transfiguration, his foreboding aura pushed the other visitors of the library, leaving him to an entire table all to himself. He didn't look too bothered by this, and it was all the better for Scorpius, as less people would hear his embarrassing plea for help. After taking a shaky breath to steady himself, Scorpius hitched his stack of equipment higher onto his hip and approached the table.
"Malfoy," said Potter without looking the moment Scorpius laid his quills and parchment on the table.
"Potter," Scorpius replied. He slid into the seat opposite him. "Potter, this is going to be rather awkward, but I really need help on this Transfiguration essay. I didn't take any notes. May I copy yours?"
Potter looked up, his eyes suspicious. "Why didn't you take notes?"
"Your presence was rather off-putting." Scorpius glared and began to fiddle with the corner of his parchment.
"So, let me get this straight," Potter said in a calm voice that hid fury. "You act like I'm some sort of malicious criminal for the entire lesson, and then you ask me for help with your essay?"
Scorpius was silent.
"Didn't Mummy ever tell you that judging people was wrong?" Albus slammed his book shut and gestured to the people around him, who flinched. "All of these people are avoiding me because apparently I seem a little intimidating. They don't even know me. I'm just a skinny little kid with a dark sense of humour."
"I'm sorry," Scorpius whispered. "I'm sorry I judged you, Potter."
A corner of Potter's mouth twitched. "It's fine, and you can call me Albus, or Al. We're not our parents."
"You know," said Scorpius, "you're very clever, Al. I wonder why you weren't a Ravenclaw."
"I was born a Slytherin. I belong here," Al whispered, his eyes distant.
They were silent for a while, staring at each other, until Scorpius squeaked, "Essay?"
"Oh, right. Yeah, I'll help. I haven't written mine yet. You can copy my notes." Al dug around in his bag and pulled out several sheets of parchment, all covered in writing. Scorpius goggled at them, amazed by both the neatness and complexity of his handwriting and how many notes he had managed to take.
"Okay, so the title will be, 'The Basic Laws of Transfiguration,'" Al muttered to himself, his hand a blur over the page, leaving neat scrolls and swirls of handwriting behind.
"You have very neat handwriting," said Scorpius.
"You have very nice eyes," Albus blurted out, before blushing slightly.
Scorpius snorted. How could he, the owner of the famous emerald eyes, say that his eyes were nice? "You have—"
"I know," Albus finished.
"You don't seem too happy—"
Albus spread out his notes over the table. "Let's get started."
Scorpius frowned, but obliged.
Albus Potter was purely fascinating.
Albus Severus was, for lack of a more suitable word, an enigma.
* Third Year *
That was the year Al dyed his hair.
"I don't see how you can even be near him. I can't look at him," Melinda babbled, sitting beside Scorpius at the Slytherin table one morning. They'd left a space on Scorpius's other side for Al when he came down—he always had a lie-in on a Saturday.
Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Salazar, Mel," he said, reaching out to scoop some more scrambled egg onto his plate, "could you be any more of a girl?"
"Could you?" Melinda retorted.
Scorpius scowled. "Are you calling me a girl?" He shovelled some of his egg into his mouth angrily.
Melinda blushed, backpedalled and stammered, "I-I-I'm just saying you're… m-m-more feminine than m-most. I w-wasn't calling you a g-g-girl! I-I just—"
"You're digging yourself into a hole here, Mel. What do you mean, I'm feminine?"
"Al told me you spend at least twenty minutes in the shower, you give yourself a face mask every other night, you fuss more about your hair than you do your homework, and you constantly ask whether your robes make you look fat. Doesn't that seem a little feminine?"
Scorpius frowned. "I do look fat in my robes. I should diet."
Melinda groaned, before giving her mountain of bacon her full attention.
Scorpius would have protested, but the sudden silence of the room was quite eerie. He copied his housemates and looked over to the entrance of the Great Hall, to see Al.
His hair had crimson streaks.
When he sat down at the Slytherin table, everyone gaped.
"Potter, what have you done to your hair?" Leo Boot gasped.
"My mum sent my sister a fashion book, so I borrowed it. This is just a test. I'm planning on cosmic blue next time." Albus yawned and snatched some toast off of the rack.
Down the table, Apollo Goyle, who hadn't heard the conversation fully due to his bad hearing and his distance from the table, snorted. "That's gay. Why did you use a fashion book?"
"Oh," Albus began, irony dripping from the very fibres of his voice, and it sounded so smooth Scorpius blushed, "I was learning how to do smoky eyes."
Acantha Nott giggled shrilly from the Ravenclaw table and twirled a strand of her platinum blonde hair around her index finger, whilst fluttering her fake eyelashes at Albus. Scorpius sent her the death glare, but he wasn't the only one. Down the table, Apollo was shooting lazars at Albus, who was now discussing how he was going to spend his weekend with Melinda.
Later that morning, Albus and Scorpius were flopping around like dead fish in the Common room. Albus was slouched over the green sofa, his gangly frame moulding into it, and Scorpius was lying beside him, his head aching with the need to rest on Albus's lap. Scorpius didn't, though, and instead propped it against an insufficient pillow. They had been planning on doing something meaningful with their weekend, but were both resigned to the fact that the most they'd be doing is reaching over to unwrap a Chocolate Frog. They were both perfectly relaxed until Scorpius spoke.
"Why did you dye your hair, Al?" he asked, glancing up as his friend, who had stiffened.
"Dunno," Albus mumbled, trying to be casual but failing.
"Well—" Scorpius wriggled into a sitting position "—I liked your hair the way it was."
Albus blushed, but attempted to hide it by cramming a Chocolate Frog into his mouth. Through it he mumbled, "Don't be a poofter, Scorpius. Don't you have a Potions essay to beg me to write for you?"
Scorpius was more hurt by Albus's first comment than he had ever been hurt for all of his life, and the reason was probably because Albus said it, not any of the nasty Gryffindor bullies that hung around with Al's brother—but he grimaced and they both headed for their dorm.
* Five months later *
"Come on, Score; just a bit of fun!" Albus encouraged as he ushered his best friend down an abandoned corridor.
Scorpius made a little squeak of protest.
"We have Binns—he won't notice."
"Albus, please, we'll get caught!" Scorpius protested.
Albus laughed. "Not with me you won't." He reached his hand into his bag and when he pulled it out it'd vanished. "My Cloak of Invisibility, baby." He whipped it around his own shoulders, and in his anxiety, Scorpius had no choice but to squeeze under as well. He wasn't even all that shocked that Albus owned an Invisibility Cloak—nothing surprised him anymore.
Scorpius sighed, and surrendered to the fact he was doing this whether he liked it or not. "So, what's today's prank?"
Albus smirked, a maniacal glint in his eyes. "Trash a broom cupboard."
Scorpius gulped, but was forced to move, or the cloak would slip completely off of him. It wasn't too bad, actually. Being pressed up so closely to Albus made Scorpius's heart race, so hard he could hear it pounding in his head. Scorpius bit his lip hard and told himself to snap out of it. Don't be a poofter, Scorpius.
They kept walking down a maze of similar looking corridors until they came across a broom cupboard Albus deemed worthy of his devious activity. He zipped out a hand and pulled open the door, before promptly closing it with a disturbed expression.
"What?" Scorpius asked.
Albus stared at him, wide-eyed. "Trust me, you don't want to know. We're both too young."
And they carried on walking.
Eventually, they found another suitable cupboard and crammed themselves inside. Luckily, they were both still small and skinny, but it was still cramped, and they silently showed their respect to their parents for being much taller, yet still enduring the constricting pressure of the cupboard. Scorpius could feel a flush creeping up to his face in the heat, but he could see Albus's bright eyes flickering in the dim candlelight of the room, skating around the room.
"We need paint," he muttered. "White paint…"
Scorpius pointed to a rickety shelf above their heads, with a white can on it. "There."
Albus stared at him, as if expecting him to do something extraordinary.
"What? Why are you looking at me?" Scorpius asked, confused.
Albus snorted. "I'm in a bit of an awkward position over here. You expect me to get the paint? I am not a pretzel."
And although Scorpius was scowling, he did question the possibility that Albus could dislocate his shoulder, grab the paint and wriggle his shoulder back into place without making any sort of noise and attracting the attention of Peeves. With another sad sigh, he attempted to grab the paint. "Move over, Al. You're in the way!"
"Oh, sorry, do you want me to sink into the wall then?"
"At least turn around. That could help."
"Like this?"
Suddenly the door opened, and Elisha Travers was gaping open-mouthed into the room. At first, Scorpius wondered why, but then he realised—with his pelvis pressed against Albus's backside, one arm on Albus's back and the other over his head—what a wrong, disturbing, awkward position they were in.
They blurted out together, "It's not what it looks like," but Travers had already slammed the door and screamed, "Sorry for disturbing you!"
Albus and Scorpius hastily untangled themselves from each other and froze for a moment in shocked silence. Without warning, they burst into laughter.
"Oh, Merlin!" Scorpius gasped, tears streaming down his face, clutching his stomach as it shook.
"Did you see her face?" Albus trembled with the effort of his laughter.
But Scorpius had quickly stopped laughing, and was gazing dreamily into Albus's eyes.
Don't be a poofter, Scorpius. Don't be a poofter, Scorpius. Don't be a—
But it was too late. It was then, in just one heartbeat, that he realised he was in love with his best friend.
* Fifth Year *
Today was the day. Scorpius was going to tell them.
Albus flicked his forest green hair out of his eyes as he attempted to comfort Melinda over his cornflakes, who was lamenting over her latest heartbreak. The Slytherin table wasn't the best place to howl your heart out, but of course, that didn't stop her.
"I don't even get it!" she sobbed. "Why would he cheat on me? Am I not good enough?"
"Of course you are!" Albus wrapped her in a reassuring hug. "Ask anyone. Any decent guy would be blessed to have you. Unfortunately, some guys are just plain gits."
Melinda wept into his shoulder, and Albus patted her awkwardly on the back. It seems he inherited from his father the lack of knowledge in comforting crying girls.
"Al," Melinda gasped between sobs, "Do you think I'm good enough? Would you date me, hypothetically?"
"Well, yes and no," Scorpius mumbled.
Melinda accepted that answer well and scooted back into her seat, sniffling as she went.
"Hey, Al?" Scorpius gazed into Albus's emerald orbs. "I'm gay. May you pass the toast rack?" Scorpius babbled.
Albus's eyes widened. "Really?"
Scorpius nodded, as red as a ripe tomato.
"Well, we both fully accept you as you are, and to be honest, we've been guessing on it for a long time," Albus admitted as he passed the toast rack down the table to Scorpius. He smiled at Al, something he rarely did, so that his new emerald eyebrow stud glimmered in the light of the Great Hall. "I'm happy for you."
Scorpius nodded and blushed. It meant a lot. Plus, Scorpius didn't fully know that Albus was straight. He'd never dated anyone. Scorpius might have a shot.
Just as Scorpius's hopes began to rise, they plummeted. The reason?
Acantha Nott.
She'd got up from the Ravenclaw table, walked with her hips swinging over to the Slytherin table and stopped beside Albus and tapped him on the shoulder, looking as perfect and curvy and blonde and busty and makeup-coated and purely tempting to any heterosexual or bisexual male. The table was filled with muttering—lustful from the males, and hateful from the females. When Albus turned around, she started combing her fingers through her hair and spoke.
"Hey, Nott," Albus said, grinning. "How did the Arithmancy exam go?"
Acantha laughed. Albus must have told her that he'd stolen the Arithmancy answers. Scorpius couldn't help feeling a little upset about that. He'd thought he was the only other person who knew.
"I reckon I've scraped a pass," she teased, playing along. She rested a hand on his arm and he chuckled with her. When the laughing died down, she continued, "Hey, Potter, I've wanted to ask you something for a while now."
"Go ahead," Albus encouraged. Scorpius's stomach churned in warning.
She froze for a moment, before blurting out, "Albus, would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me?" she whispered, knees trembling.
"Like, on a date?" Albus asked. Scorpius couldn't ignore how his eyes flickered to look at her breasts every now and then.
She nodded.
"Sure, I'd love to," said Al.
She beamed, quickly hugged him and ran back to the refuge of her table, blushing even more than Scorpius. And for a different reason.
Scorpius's heart cracked in two.
* Six Months Later *
And Acantha wasn't the only one. Albus dated her for about a month before they split, because they were becoming more like friends than a real couple. Acantha then started dating Apollo, which the entire Slytherin house had been betting on happening, and Albus moved on to other girls, such as:
Lucy Travers, Fifth Year Hufflepuff;
Lydia Robin, Fifth Year Hufflepuff;
Japonica Peaceful, Fourth Year Ravenclaw;
Silvia Turnstead, Fifth Year Slytherin.
None of them lasted more than a couple of weeks.
Then there was Lucus Gravehill, who was a very attractive, blonde, Fifth Year Gryffindor boy, but that was a secret, and Scorpius wasn't even meant to know about it. He'd walked in on them having sex in the greenhouse one day, and he'd fled with tears streaming down his face before they'd even seen him.
So, Albus was bisexual, and he still didn't want Scorpius. Oh, that worked wonders for Scorpius's low self-esteem.
* In The Dormitory *
Albus and Scorpius sat together on Albus's four-poster bed, with the curtains drawn, sealed with a Temporary Sticking Charm, and Silencing Spells all around. Albus had his lit wand held under his chin so that it cast his face into relief, like he was about to tell a haunting horror story to a group of frightened children. His new lip stud, which was another emerald, really set of the whole terrifying look. His lips glistened in the light of the wand, and Scorpius wanted nothing more than to kiss them. But he didn't. Because he didn't dare.
That'd always been Scorpius's problem.
"I was thinking of asking out Zoey Hardwick," said Al.
Scorpius wrinkled up his nose. "Zoey Hardwick?"
Albus nodded.
"Well, I don't think it's a good idea. She suffers from extreme acne and she doesn't look like she's seen salad in her life."
Albus looked aghast. "Score! She's nice. She's funny."
Scorpius sneered, folded his arms over his chest and looked away.
Albus sighed. "The reason you don't understand is because you've never been in a relationship. If you don't like girls, why not get a boyfriend?"
"I don't want one," Scorpius snapped back.
"Okay, sorry," said Albus, holding his hands up in surrender. "What crawled up your arse and died?"
Scorpius glared.
"I'm sorry if you're looking for help, but I can't exactly empathize, can I?"
"You can empathize plenty well," mumbled Scorpius darkly, his mind on Lucus.
"What?"
"You know exactly what I'm going through!" Scorpius yelled.
Albus laughed nervously. "I'm not gay, Score."
Scorpius raised an eyebrow.
"Where did you get that idea?" Albus chuckled.
And Scorpius was just… done. He couldn't take it anymore. Without even thinking beforehand, he blurted out, "Lucus Gravehill."
Albus froze like a statue. "What about him?" he asked, trying too hard to sound casual.
"Greenhouse Three," Scorpius added.
Scorpius had never seen someone look so terrified in his life. "Oh," Albus whispered.
"And you were at least bisexual and you didn't think to tell me?" Scorpius shouted. "And all you say is 'oh'?" The Silencing Spells around the bed strained to keep the sound in.
Albus gazed at him, his startling eyes wide and glistening with tears Scorpius was unfamiliar with. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry isn't even good enough. Do you know how upset I was?" Scorpius hissed.
Albus blinked, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
Scorpius sighed. "I can't believe this," he said under his breath.
He was about to shuffle over and get off of the bed when Albus leaned forward.
And kissed him.
Scorpius was shocked into stillness for a moment, his eyes wide and looking straight at Al's eyelashes, which teardrops clung to, like a black, dew-wet spider web. Albus's lips were like velvet, lovingly caressing Scorpius's, and in that moment Scorpius felt so much love and adoration in that tight space that he thought it may choke him. He wrapped his arms around Albus's neck and pulled him closer, his leg moving to tangle in Al's. Albus whimpered, slipping his tongue into Scorpius's parted lips.
As Albus struggled to get closer to Scorpius, the curtains opened. Albus was never too good with his minor spells. They both pulled back to see Melinda smirking down on them. They weren't even surprised that she was in the boys' dorm.
"Hey, Mel," Albus said, as if she'd simply caught them playing Gobstones instead of making out.
"Hey, Al," Melinda replied. "I'll let you two resume." She winked, closed the curtains and cast another Temporary Sticking Charm before leaving.
Scorpius sighed happily. "I love her."
"I love you," said Albus.
Scorpius's eyes widened, but then his face softened and his eyes filled with tears of joy. "I love you too."
Their arms tightened around each other like they were teddy bears and eventually they dozed off. When the rest of the Slytherin boys came in, the Sticking Charm had worn off, but they didn't ask, because they'd seen it coming for a while. Albus subconsciously wondered what his brother, who he love-hated, and his sister, who he adored, would say about his relationship, but that could wait until the next day.
-Fin.
This is a one-shot, which means there will be no sequel. Ever.