Scorpius hadn't spoken to Al in three days. He avoided him at mealtimes, showing up late and sitting at the opposite end of the table, placing himself at a desk on the other side of the room during class, and refusing to talk to Albus in the Common Room – even when addressed directly. It was infuriating, immature, and stupid… and Albus felt awful. The lack of Scorpius' voice seemed to weigh on Al's shoulders like a thousand tonnes. He realised it was probably his fault for not having followed Scorpius the night it had started – he knew he should have, but he could think of nothing to say at the time. Instead, he'd raced up to Gryffindor Towers and banged angrily on the portrait of the Fat Lady until someone had come out to see what all the noise was about.
Joanna had been some comfort and, after several long hours of talking things through, she had told him he needed to find Scorpius and apologise for what he'd done. Unfortunately, Scorpius had decided not to listen.
Albus dug lazily at his pot of earth, sighing unconsciously and staring wistfully down at his trowel. He'd not been listening to a word Professor Longbottom had said for the past forty five minutes and thus was not really sure what he was meant to be doing. Joanna gave him a sharp dig in the ribs and Albus looked up, turning in her direction. "What? I'm doing it," he said, sounding completely unconvincing.
Joanna looked at him for a moment, then gave him a sympathetic look. "What's wrong?" she asked, then sighed at his vague shrug. "You're thinking about Scorp, aren't you?" she asked, putting her trowel down and turning to face him.
Al frowned, but nodded. It was true, he was, and he knew he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it. He'd thought of hardly anything else since Scorpius had shouted at him and the past three days had been miserable for him. He'd even gone on his first Hogsmeade trip with Joanna the previous day to try and take his mind off it, but it hadn't helped much. Scorpius not talking to him felt like he was missing a limb and he'd noticed his school work suffering for it.
"Have you apologised to him, yet?" Joanna continued. Al nodded.
"Yes. Several times. He doesn't reply; just pretends he hasn't heard me." Albus shoved his trowel deep into his pot of dirt in a sudden bout of frustration and sighed again. "This is so stupid!"
"Maybe you should write him a letter?" Joanna suggested. "Perhaps put it on his pillow before he goes to bed? You might be able to say more in a letter, and you don't need to worry about being ignored, then."
"Yeah, maybe…" Albus wasn't convinced this would do any good at all, but he was feeling too down to point this out. There was no use, really. He continued to glare miserably down at his pot, aware of Joanna's eyes on him for several long moments before she turned back to her own work. Today was going to be as long and tedious as the previous two, he could just tell.
Several more minutes passed, then Professor Longbottom's voice broke the silence. "Okay, class," he said, moving to the front of the room an addressing everyone loudly. "By now you should have planted and fed your podlings. We're almost out of time here, so if you'd like to form a line and place your pots along the back window, they should be well on the way to maturity by next month. Providing this nice weather keeps up," he added, gazing out at the almost cloudless autumn sky.
Al looked down at his pot and the two small, green pods by the side of it which he hadn't touched. He couldn't be bothered to do it. He looked up at Joanna, who gave him a gently disapproving look. "This isn't a very good way to start the year," she said, trying to sound stern – she wasn't, though; Albus could always tell. He simply shrugged, picked up the two pods, and pushed them forcefully into the dirt with two fingers.
"That'll do," he said, shortly, picking up his pot and joining the already lengthy queue, Joanna following along closely behind.
"You know, if Scorpius knew how you were letting your concentration levels drop like this he'd be really upset with you."
"He's already upset with me, Jo," Al hissed, then instantly regretted his harsh tone. He took a breath and calmed himself down. "I just… I don't know what to do, you know? He's my best friend." Al caught the way his voice seemed to waver as he finished speaking and he frowned. Why was this such a big deal for him? Friends had arguments all the time, didn't they? And made up. Scorpius didn't seem this affected by it – but then, Albus thought, Scorpius wasn't the one in the dog-house, here. He felt completely lost without his friend to talk to, and even Joanna, whom he loved dearly, couldn't fully rouse him from his pit of self-pitying misery and loneliness.
After five minutes Al and Joanna reached the table and placed their pots in the sunlight along with the others. Professor Longbottom gave Albus a small questioning smile when he saw the state of Al's pot, but Al didn't stick around to hear what – if anything – he had to say about it. He gave the Professor a quick, forced smile in response and hurried from the greenhouse, once again pursued closely by Joanna.
"Well, maybe you could ask someone to talk to him for you, then?" she said, catching up and falling into stride behind him as they made their way across the lawn.
Albus snorted. "Yeah, like who?"
"Well…" Jo said, shrugging. "I could do it."
Al stopped dead in his tracks and Joanna stopped a split second after.
"What?!" Al asked, caught totally off guard. "Why?" That had been the last thing he'd expected, and it probably wouldn't do any good, given Scorpius' dislike of Joanna. The last thing Al wanted to do was give Scorpius more reason to dislike him.
"I just thought… since I know you, and I know how upset you are, I could talk to him and let him know how you're feeling. I'm sure he won't ignore me."
No, thought Al, but he might turn you into a possum.
He looked at her for a while, saw the earnest expression in her eyes and sighed. He couldn't tell her the truth. "I don't think that would be a good idea," he said, giving her a small smile. "But thanks. I just think it would be better coming from me. Maybe he just needs to hear it a load of times before he forgives me? He wants to watch me squirm for a bit."
Joanna frowned. "That's not very nice…"
Albus grinned and shrugged. "Slytherin. It's what I would do."
Joanna raised an eyebrow, then continued walking, Albus at her side. "Well, if you ever do that to me there'll be trouble."
Albus grinned and chuckled at her stern look and they walked the rest of the way in relative silence until it came time for them to part ways for their next class. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and made his way down to the dungeons. His slightly heightened mood suddenly plummeted again, though, as he remembered that he shared this class with Scorpius. He growled at this realisation as he pushed open the door and had to keep himself from scowling at the pale, red-headed Hufflepuff boy Scorpius had chosen to sit next to.
Scorpius didn't look up from his desk as Albus entered, nor did he turn in Al's direction for the entirety of the lesson. When the class ended, Scorpius was the first out, and Albus watched him walk past with a deep, burrowing sense of loss growing in the pit of his stomach. He shoved his books hastily back into his bag and chased after him down the corridor, pushing several other students aside until he caught up with him. Scorpius quickened his pace, but Albus simply followed suit, refusing to let him get away so easily.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked, his tone imploring; almost desperate. "I've apologised about six times, now. I'm sorry. There, see? Seven, now. Scorpius…"
But Scorpius didn't reply. Albus could see the furrowing of the brow and the tightening of the lips that meant Scorpius was holding something back, but no response came. Albus followed him to the end of the corridor, but stopped at the foot of the stairs and let him go. He gave a cry of frustration and kicked the bottom step hard, only to yowl in pain as his toe connected with solid stone. He hopped around a bit, clutching his foot, then glared up the stairs into the empty space Scorpius had previously filled. He glared for a good three minutes, then sighed, slumping glumly down to sit on the same step he'd just kicked.
He wanted his friend back.