Albus
Abus woke up with a start, he had to look around for a while to realize that he was back in the dormitory, his potions laying on the side table, disregarded. 'Dammit'he thought to himself, leave it to Malfoy to screw up his work without even realizing. All things considered, the sight he had seen last night was ghastly. The way the scars had cut into Scorpius's pale skin was horrifying. He couldn't help but think they were caused from magic, they were too clean not be be. But at the same time, what spell could possibly do that.
For the rest of the day, Al couldn't stop thinking about Scorpius. He was now attempting to do his divination homework up in the common room but Scorpius's monstrous cuts kept creeping their way back into his mind. Having enough, he put his quill down and stood, deciding to go to the library and research about the scars. He was halfway out the door before he remembered to take his map. The Marauders Map was given to him by his father back when he was a third year, James had chosen the cloak of course, leave it to James to choose the flashy things. He tucked the map within the pages of one of his textbooks and made his way to the library.
Once he entered the musty library, he made his way all the way to the back shelves, a spell like that wouldn't be anywhere in the textbooks, hell it was most probably in the restricted section. Taking a deep breath, he began his search.
It had now been 3 hours and no ball. Al had been searching and searching but the closest thing he found to the spell was an old essay on the discovery of the 'Oppugno' spell, which Al was sure to swipe as he recalled Professor Binns saying something about the history of spells during the last lesson. He was now frustrated and impatient and he decided this was the best opportunity to sneak out to the pitch and practice some dives.
Albus held his Firebolt in one hand and the keys to the Gryffindor locker rooms in another. He raced down the marble steps, out to the pitch, embracing the cool air as it swept through his hair. It had snowed recently, Christmas was this week, so naturally he was very excited. He would be going home for the holidays soon and he was thrilled to finally have a break from his course load. As he entered the pitch, he was greeted by the familiar smell of wet soil. Smiling to himself, he mounted his broom and took off, cutting through the air like a blade. Albus had been flying for as long as he could remember with his mom being in the Hollyhead Harpies and his father's worrying obsession with Quidditch. The firebolt had been a present from Aunt Hermione in his second year; he had received it in the mail only a few days before tryouts. He was now grinning, thinking of how happy he'd been that day. He was lost in thought when he heard his name being called, making him lose balance and nearly slide off his broom. Looking down, he noticed a familiar blond standing with the Slytherin team, clad in green robes, each carrying a broom.
"Oi Potter! Wanna come down so we can practice." Scorpius seemed to be back to his normal, asshole self.
Albus responded by diving downward and planting his feet in the soil. He dismounted his broom and looked over in Malfoy's direction. Apparently Malfoy was looking at him too as the pair caught each other's eyes. Al took the opportunity to shoot a pleading look which, judging by the fact that Malfoy broke eye contact, was received. Clearly he didn't want to talk about it, but to hell if Al was going to leave it alone. Deciding this was not the time to confront Scorpius, Al walked off the pitch without as much as a nod in the other man's direction.
Scorpius
Scorpius glanced back at the departing brunette, relieved that Albus hadn't made an attempt at speaking to him, especially in front of his teammates. Giving the signal, he watched as his team rose into the air, each taking their position on the field. As Scorpius went to bend over and open the ball chest, an angry pain spread over his torso. He quailed, biting his lip and trying not to cry out. He waited for the pain to subside before opening the engraved chest and throwing the red quaffle into the air. Scorpius then released the bludgers, the pitch black spheres rose off into the clear sky, spinning every which way. The weather had finally cleared up and he couldn't have been happier, perhaps the match with Ravenclaw would go smoothly after all. He stood up and mounted his own broom but not without effort. He too rose up, higher than the rest of his team. As he was seeker, he usually practiced on his own, team practices were so he could observe everyone's progress. As he floated through the air, his thoughts drifted to the night before. He remembered Albus's tight grip on his waist and how soft his hair felt on his face. Most of all, he appreciated how Albus didn't ask. He didn't expect Scorpius to say a word, although he wasn't sure if that would last. Scorpius knew Albus wouldn't let any of this go and that was exactly why he hated him.