A Match Made In Hell

Disclaimer: All but the original characters and scenarios are JK. Rowling's but I do dearly wish Malfoy was mine..

...

I wish you'd stop ignoring me,

Cause you're sending me to despair.

Without a sound yeah you're calling me,

And I don't think it's very fair.

'I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor'- Arctic Monkeys

...

Chapter Three - Ignorance is not bliss

"Scorpius." Albus acknowledged curtly, and in a split second he'd drawn his wand and pointed it at the man's throat.

Scorpius quickly drew his own wand from his robe, but twirled it between his slender, pale fingers.

"I suggest you get your Gryffindor arse off Slytherin territory before I curse it, Potter." he spat. "Speaking of which, what are you doing here? Meeting someone?" His sharp eyes roved the empty corridor.

"Perhaps not," he sneered "Even 'teenage heartthrob Albus Potter' is unwelcome in Slytherin."

"It's none of your business where I go, Malfoy." growled Albus with cold fury, taking a step closer.

Scorpius advanced as well. Albus felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, as he knew a fight was brewing. He noticed Scorpius' ivory hand had also tightened around his wand.

"Oh, but as Slytherin prefect, it's my duty to see there are no potentially dangerous intruders, which includes you." Scorpius purred dangerously, inching closer. They were now almost nose to nose, and Albus bitterly realized Scorpius had grown a good few inches taller than him in the summer.

"And as Gryffindor prefect," Albus countered, smirking in the pale boy's angular face "I have the right to walk wherever I want, even if that is near your greasy little hind."

A short second later, and Albus saw stars as Scorpius drove a fist up into his chin. He pushed him to the floor, and swung back his leg as far as he could-

Scorpius' groan of pure pain echoed through the surrounding corridors, and Albus quickly began to retreat. He took one last look at his rival on the floor, and was shocked to see the grey eyes were blank, devoid of any emotion. Albus had never seen them without the hate and fury, and he almost fell over.

The eyes locked briefly on his own, and Albus heard Scorpius murmur "That was too far, Potter." The tall boy got up, unusually ungracefully, and stalked off down the corridor without another glance back.

Albus stood frozen for a whole minute. What had just happened? Since when did Malfoy willingly leave a fight after a few punches? He hadn't even left with his usual parting insult.

Perhaps he had gone too far - Albus couldn't begin to imagine how painful his kick must have been. He'd crossed the unspoken line that enemies had - he recalled his father had done the same with the 'Sectumsempra' curse, which ironically had been delivered to Malfoy's own father.

Then, with shock, Albus spotted the drops of blood on the floor which followed the path Scorpius had just taken.

For the first time in his life, he felt regret for hurting Malfoy. He shakily headed to the Great Hall, meaning to find the boy and apologise in person. His pride would take a big hit, and he would surely be laughed at by the Slytherins, but he felt it was the decent thing to do.

.-.

Albus sat with his friends for an hour, ignoring the conversation and instead nervously scanning the sea of dark heads for the blonde one. It never showed up.

Just as he was about to leave, the Great Hall's doors swung open, and the pale boy finally sauntered in. Albus found he primarily felt relief, instead of the usual hate and contempt, and was a little surprised at himself.

"It'll pass." He reminded himself, as he continued to watch Malfoy, who did not look his usual self-absorbed self. He tried desperately to make eye contact all lunch, and at every meal for the following week, but he had a sneaking suspicion the boy was looking anywhere but at him.

For the first time in six years, he was pointedly ignored by Scorpius Malfoy, and he was as sure as hell going to change that fact.

.-.

A month later, on the morning of October 10th, Albus woke up in a state of excitement and nerves. What if, and it was a big if, but what if he was picked as a Triwizard Champion?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he failed to notice when he put his jumper on backwards. It was only once he was at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall that a sniggering Fred Weasley alerted him. Embarrassed, Albus wrenched the jumper off over his head, to many catcalls and whoops.

Since his third year, he had been the school 'heartthrob' and he knew it. His unruly black hair, emerald green eyes, and toned, tanned body (thanks to hours of Quidditch practice) was enough to make girls and boys alike drool.

"You've got an audience." warned Louis somewhat unnecessarily.

"Even Malfoy's getting a good eyeful."

Albus looked up, shocked. He had long since given up trying to apologise to the boy, and his pointed ignorance had Albus finding his gaze automatically sliding to the arrogant boy regularly, as if his name was being called.

They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the first morning, but his presence still inexplicably captivated Albus' attention, much to his irritation.

He saw that his cousin was correct, as he saw Malfoy's pale eyes rake his body, before finally meeting his own, with raised eyebrows and a look of cool indifference. Albus sent him death glares back, his heart thudding for some reason. Malfoy relaxed into a scornful smirk, and a curt nod.

Normal service had resumed, Albus concluded.

It was with a broad grin that he offered round the bacon to his friends, who were unable to fathom his sudden change of temperament.

But Scorpius knew, and he watched the Gryffindor with wry amusement. This year was going to be interesting.

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Thanks for reading, please review! Reviews encourage my writing, so yeah, and the Triwizard Champions will be announced in the next chapter very shortly :)