Albus Severus Potter lent his head against the desk with a sigh. He was tired and he was bored and he was miserable.
Albus was tired because he had been up for most of the night, unable to sleep. Writhing around the sweat-sodden sheets of his four poster bed in the Slytherin common room, all his worries and fears had churned through his mind in the way that they tended to do in the early hours of the morning. At 3AM, surrounded by darkness, he seemed to feel most alone, most insecure, emotionally weak.
Albus was bored because the new Potions tutor Professor Constantine was in the midst of what seemed to be the most tedious, never ending monologue Albus had ever heard. For the past thirty minutes the teacher had, in a droning voice, methodically listed all four hundred and seventy eight ingredients needed for a Detoxification Potion. He had then described in soporific detail how as a seventeen year old he had left his childhood home in the Argentinean mountains, and travelled the world to track down each component needed for the concoction.
Albus was miserable because his best friend Scorpius Malfoy was not sat beside him.
"And after three months of carefully leaving the mixture to mature under the shade of a Jacaranda Tree, we were able to feed it to my father through a tube," finished Professor Constantine. "It had the pleasing effect of unclogging his arteries and bowels immediately. The damage caused by his diet of ten glasses of firewhisky and dozens of deep fried blood doughnuts a day was completely reversed – he was quite rejuvenated!"
Albus wished Scorpius was quite rejuvenated. Complaining of exhaustion and a chronic lack of energy, he had been admitted to the hospital wing almost a week ago after collapsing during Herbology.
Madame Pomfrey was of the opinion that he had the Wizarding Flu, and was in great need of direct sunshine and Vitamin D. Scorpius had spent most of the summer holidays indoors, living on a diet of chocolate frogs, locked away in the seclusion of Malfoy Manor, a large mansion filled with dark artefacts where his protective father Draco left him to roam, bored and idle. On the one weekend Scorpius had been allowed out, he had come home clearly drunk and covered from head to toe in mud. Stumbling into the hallway, he had knocked over a marble bust of Gellert Grindelwald which had to be sent to Switzerland for repairs.
-
Albus and Scorpius were a dream team in Potions – the best students in the year, if not the school. It was the only subject that Albus excelled at. Working in tandem they had mastered the curriculum up to OWL level, although their effortless ability did mean they had a tendency to disrupt the class with dangerous experiments when they found the work too easy. It had become their favorite lesson, a glorious two hours spent fooling around, finishing each others sentences, doubled over in laughter at some private joke.
Somehow it wasn't the same for Albus by himself. He was missing Scorpius' pale mischievous face, that wicked smile which meant that he had tampered with the potion in the bubbling cauldron and was waiting to see what spectacular explosion or peculiar side effect might follow. On one occasion Scorpius had casually tossed a handful of dried gecko powder into a Pompion Potion and upon inhaling the fumes both boys had instantly turned bright green. They had to spend the afternoon being reverted back to their natural colour, allowing them to gleefully miss a double lesson of History of Magic taught by the ghost Professor Binns, the dullest teacher in the school.
There had been no laughter or mischief this afternoon. Albus had spent most of the lesson brooding silently, staring at the hands on the clock which never seemed to move. He was bored by the work and resentful at being partnered with tiresome school swot Alice Fairweather now that Professor Constantine had finally finished his speech and put them into pairs.
"Careful," Alice snapped, as he chopped up birch roots maliciously and sent each clipping flying across the table. "What is up with you today?"
"He's missing his boyfriend, aren't you Potter?" came a mocking voice from the table behind. Rickon Waddle was a Hufflepuff who Albus had come to despise for his irritating face and sheer stupidity. "Can the Slytherin Squib not concoct any potions properly unless his little lover boy Scorpius is around?"
"Shut up Waddle, he's not my boyfriend," spat Albus.
"Really? Because you're always sneaking off together. What are you doing, kissing in the Herbology greenhouses? Cuddling each other in the owl shed?"
"Don't rise to it Albus," said Alice haughtily. "We've only got ten minutes to finish this project."
"You've got a sick mind Waddle, do you know that?" said Albus, ignoring her.
"Everyone knows you're queer," taunted Rickon, making a blow job action with his mouth.
"I'm queer?" retorted Albus. "How many girls have you ever kissed? Because I don't remember any. You were there at the Yule Ball last year, when I pulled Beatrix Creevey in front of the whole school. If anyone is sneaking off to suck cock it is you. You probably go to sleep fantasizing over Scorpius and me every night."
"That is quite enough," said Professor Constantine, suddenly appearing over Albus' shoulder. "Ten points from Slytherin. Turn around and get on with your Essence Of Insanity. It is a very volatile potion and requires your full attention."
"But please sir, they started it!" said Albus.
"He is telling the truth," said Alice reluctantly.
"I don't care," said Professor Constantine. "Foul language will not tolerated at this school and neither will homophobia. Now turn around and attend to your potion."
Albus returned his attention to his cauldron with gritted teeth, and began slicing up the birch roots again. He had just drifted off into a pleasant daydream about lying on a beach in the Carribean with Scorpius, when he heard a voice behind him.
"Psst. Psst!" whispered the voice. Albus spun around to find Rickon pretending to be bent over by his fellow Hufflepuff Alex Jones. "Oh Scorpius, give it to me harder" laughed Rickon. "Please sir, they started it!" mocked Alex in a high mocking voice.
Albus felt the rage build up inside him. His heart rate quickened, he felt light headed and his eyes were filled with pure hatred. Confringo, he hissed under his breath and the effect was immediate. Rickon's cauldron burst into flames, sending the liquid spurting out in all directions. Rickon and Alex both got a face full, and both rolled over screaming as burns appeared on their face.
Unluckily, Professor Constantine had been walking nearby at that exact moment, and received a splattering in the back of the head. He too had collapsed to the ground, and was muttering gibberish as his body spasmed.
"Someone get to the hospital wing!" squealed Alice, who had miraculously managed to avoid the liquid. "We need to alaert Madame Pomfrey!"
Albus collapsed into his chair concentrating on his breathing. He smiled to himself, feeling a grim satisfaction at what he had done, the havoc he had caused. If only Scorpius had been there to see it.
"You're going to be in such trouble for this," said Alice.
"Oh shut up, you stupid know it all," spat Albus with relish. He stood up, surveyed the damage and strolled casually out of the classroom, passing a sprinting Madame Pomfrey on the corridor.
With other students in lessons, Albus had a clear walk down empty staircases to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons.
"Password?" said a voice in the grey slimy wall.
"The dark lord," said Albus lazily, and the wall parted giving him entry to a passage leading to the lounge, which was bathed in atmospheric green light.
Nobody else was around, so Albus collapsed into a comfortable Gothic style armchair. He heard a loud "Meow" and a lithe black cat jumped up, curled on his lap and began to make low whining noises.
"I miss him too, Lucius," said Albus with a sigh to the cat who was glaring at him with red eyes in an almost accusatory way, as if it was Albus who had been hiding Scorpius away for the last week or he was the one somehow responsible for the absence of his owner.
Albus soon slipped into a dull afternoon nap, waking with a jolt an after fifteen minutes to find a wand pointed at his face. His stomach lurched.
"Give me all your sickles or I'll curse your arm off!"
"Don't do that, you bloody idiot! Scared me half to death. I might have had a heart attack!" Albus said the words indignantly but he was smiling.
"You'd need a heart first for that to happen," grinned Scorpius. "And I've seen no evidence of that."
The mere presence of his best friend gave Albus a weird feeling of euphoria – a sense of warmness towards a world that only half an hour ago had seemed to cold and lonely. Albus stood up to greet him and they hovered opposite each other awkwardly for a few seconds; they both moved in different directions, ended up banging their heads together, laughed, and eventually settled for a sort of hug-handshake hybrid.
"How did you get out of the hospital wing," asked Albus. "Paris Black told me they were keeping you in until Wednesday at the earliest."
"It was rather a stroke of luck actually," replied Scorpius. "Tobias Lovegood came rushing in to say there had been some sort of accident in the potions dungeon - Madame Pomfrey had to rush off immediately. I was able to befuddle the house elf on duty and sneak out."
"You've got me to thank for that," grinned Albus. "I sort of exploded a cauldron full of Essence of Insanity over Professor Constantine. Caught that idiot Rickon Waddle square in the face as well, you should have heard him screaming on the floor."
"You're a cruel bastard," laughed Scorpius. "And an absolute legend. Wish I had been there to see it. What made you do it?"
"Just things they were saying. It doesn't matter."
"How come you are back here in the common room," said Scorpius with a frown. "Shouldn't you be in divination next? They haven't barred you from lessons as a punishment, have they? Not that that would be any sort of hardship."
"They haven't punished me at all, not yet," said Albus. "I'm on the run from the law as a matter of fact. Just walked out of the class and came straight back here, felt like a nap after all the excitement. They're probably trying to track me down right now. You want to be careful, fraternizing with a known fugitive," he added with a wink.
"I'll take my chances," laughed Scorpius. "Still, are you sure it was wise? Covering a teacher in burns...that's pretty serious. You might even get expelled. I can't imagine life here without you."
Scorpius sank into an armchair and for the first time Albus noticed the dark patches under his eyes, the hint of tired melancholy in his face as he contemplated life at Hogwarts without his closest friend. Albus liked to gaze at Scorpius – his features were beautiful by any standard. The blond, almost white hair that swept so naturally and nonchalantly to the left of his forehead. The piercing blue eyes that usually sparkled with life. The flawless, pale skin, accentuating his perfectly formed cheekbones and Greek nose. The lips, surprisingly full, a deep red colour. The recent illness had only increased his perfection, giving him a sort of exhausted, thoughtful pallor like a fatalistic, doomed figure from a tragic play.
Although he and his best friend shared everything, Albus could not confide that he liked Scorpius in...that way. Scorpius was too brash, too fond of lusting after girls and boasting about stolen, passionate kisses in the dusty corridor on the third floor. Albus was grateful enough that someone so popular and beautiful had chosen him as his best friend – he often couldn't believe his luck when they strolled through corridors together and Scorpius was greeted like a hero by everyone they met. Albus treasured more than anything their evenings alone, sneaking wine to their secret hideaway in the forest, and descending into juvenile giggling as they talked about everything and everyone. He wasn't prepared to risk the only true friendship in his life by confessing what could be just vague, fleeting feelings. Thus, Albus had resolved to put these thoughts to one side, to treat them as one of those hormonal teenage phases his father Harry was always warning him about.
"Oi! You're not listening," said Scorpius, throwing a thick volume of Hogwarts: A History at Albus who had drifted off into thought.
"Sorry, what were you saying?"
"I was saying that you could just pretend it was an accident. They can't expel you for an accident."
"Can't we indeed," said a stern, clipped voice. Headmistress Minerva McGonagoll was standing at the entrance to the common room, looking more angry than Albus had ever seen her. "Come on, Potter – my office."