Chapter 9: Albus

Sunday, 23 November, 2025

Albus woke up warm and comfortable in his bed. He was also very naked, and there was another body pressed against his side. He quickly assessed the situation: he had been out in the pub last night with Chase. They hadn't drunk much, which explained his nearly non-existent hangover. Chase had pulled – he had been courteous enough to inform Albus when he was leaving with a woman who had looked old enough to be his mother. Albus had soon met her – the girl who was supposedly sleeping next to him. Their meeting had led to sex – not necessarily mind-blowing, but Albus wasn't complaining. He was wondrously exhausted by the activities from last night, but as Albus thought about what he would face next, he felt resigned.

The situation wasn't frequent, but since Albus didn't really date and he was a bloke – it had happened enough times for him to be aware of how undesirable the next morning could be.

He steeled himself for what needed to happen next, and opened his eyes. She was still sleeping. Maria, he recalled. She had dark blonde hair and she had a quite nice, willowy body. Her skin was soft: her cheek rested against his upper arm, and her leg was thrown over Albus's, her thigh resting against his. The blanket covered the lower half of their bodies, but he did get a quite nice view of her long back.

A soft humming sound came from the back of her throat, and then she was blinking, and stretching her body.

"Good morning," She said with a sleepy voice. She bit her lip and gave Albus a rather sheepish look. "…Albus, right?"

Albus gave her a lazy smile. "Yeah. Maria, right?"

She smiled. Albus thought she looked quite beautiful, as the smile went up to her blue eyes.

Albus stretched a bit and then cleared his throat. "Look, I have to go to work today – one of the staff is sick and, yeah…" He said with a shrug, and he wasn't even lying to her, even if he was using it as an excuse to make her leave. His eyes flickered to the timepiece on his wall. It was ten in the morning.

Albus was one of the two sports journalists at the Prophet, and with his colleague, Mitch, they covered the sports events – Quidditch, basically, since there weren't really other sports in the wizarding world that were worthy of mention – and produced written reports on those events for the next day's paper.

The Quidditch League season 2025-2026 consisted of twenty-six game weeks, and altogether one hundred and eighty-two games were played during it. There were seven games each game week, as all the fourteen teams played twice against each of the teams.

Albus reported the matches played on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, while Mitch covered the ones played during the weekend. Monday and Tuesday matches were merely mentioned in their weekly summary, as the lowest ranked teams played their games during those days. However, Mitch had flooed in sick after the game the previous day, and their editor had asked if Albus was able to cover it. Albus had warily agreed, explaining his boss that he had a thing on Sunday evening, which he simply wasn't able to miss. Even though the Holyhead Harpies – who would face the Kenmare Kestrels – were known to be fast and brutal, both Albus and his boss knew that there was always a possibility that the match would take several hours, or in the worst case: the whole day.

The game would start at noon, so Albus knew he wasn't in a hurry, but he wanted to have breakfast in silence before he had to leave to the Denbigh Moors in Wales, where most of the Harpies' games were played.

"Oh?" Maria asked, while pulling the covers upwards to cover her body, her eyes moving searchingly over Albus's. "What do you do?" She asked kindly.

"I'm an accountant." He said, knowing that literally no one ever asked more questions after that. He had learned that little detail the hard way, after telling a muggle that he was a journalist – and proceeding to make an utter fool of himself when he had been asked questions about journalism…in the muggle world. Albus had tried to learn about his field on the muggle side afterwards, but it was all very confusing. He had quickly decided to create a cover-job for himself, and as one of his co-workers had told him that no one was interested about an accountant's work, Albus had known what his would be.

"It's, uh, a busy time for us, the end of the year…" He said with a shrug and then rolled off the bed.

Maria nodded absently. "Yeah, I know… One of my friends is an accountant as well," She said and stood up to sit on the bed, watching as Albus grabbed a pair of boxers from the floor and pulled them on.

Albus looked at her, and panicked a bit. She didn't look like she was going to move an inch. Was she under the assumption that Albus would be okay for her to stay in his bed – and in his home – while he was at work? "Um. Do you want to – "

"I'd love to," She said with a sweet smile, settling back against the pillows.

Fuck, Albus thought. What the hell did she think he was asking?

"…Do you want breakfast?" Albus asked quickly, hoping that she would take the hint that it wasn't really okay for her to stay there.

Maria blushed and gave him a nod. "Sure. Let me…um…find my clothes first," She said, sitting up again and looking over the floor.

"Yeah, okay. It's, uh, two floors down." Albus said and then grabbed a t-shirt from the armchair close to the door. "I'll let you get dressed," he murmured and left the room in a hurry.

He trudged down the stairs, deciding that he would be a polite host and offer her breakfast and then kick her out. Politely. He was so focused on the upcoming and unpleasant conversation, that he didn't realise at first that someone was already in the kitchen, making breakfast.

"Hello, love," Emma said sweetly.

Albus blinked, stopping in the middle of the room. "You're home." He said, lifting his brows in surprise. He cleared his throat and walked to the cupboards to grab a couple of cups.

Emma leaned against the counter next to the stove, where she was in the middle of making a heap of pancakes. "Oh, yes," she said slyly, watching Albus with amusement in her eyes. "Is there someone special you're getting coffee for on this lovely Sunday morning, dear?"

Albus rolled his eyes at her. Emma hadn't obviously stayed the night, as she was already dressed for the day, wearing a flimsy top, tight jeans and a long cardigan. Albus was also certain he would've heard if she had come home during last night – or at least, she would've already commented about his not so quiet activities during the previous night. "She's a Muggle. Keep your wand away." He grunted, and poured the coffee Emma had made into two cups.

Emma snorted, right as the door to the kitchen opened.

Maria stepped inside the room, looking warily at Albus and Emma. "Um. Albus?"

Emma whirled around to meet her gaze. "Hello. I'm Emma. Albus's fiancée," She said with a wide smile. "So nice to meet you – I'm sure Albus took a good care of you last night."

Maria gaped at them both, while Albus groaned inwardly. "Emma, please," He said stiffly. He then turned to look at Maria, grimacing at the expression of confusion and hurt on her face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know she would be here," He said apologetically.

It wasn't like he had planned it, and while he had meant to send Maria on her way and never call her back, he hadn't meant to hurt her, and he definitely hadn't wanted her to meet Emma.

Maria looked positively stunned. "Your – your –" She breathed, and then tugged at her thin and very short dress down a bit.

"Pancakes?" Emma asked cheerfully, and it seemed to be too much for Maria, who shook her head, and practically ran from the kitchen.

"You had to do that?" Albus asked disdainfully from Emma.

Emma blew a raspberry at him. "As if you weren't just going to ditch her."

Albus walked to the door, gritting his teeth. "…And I haven't asked your hand yet, so I'd advise you to not hold your breath!" He said thinly, before slamming the door behind him.

"May I remind you where we're going today for dinner?!" Emma's muffled voice carried to the hallway.

Albus let out a long sigh. Of bloody course he knew. He shook his head and ran up the stairs to the first floor, where he knew Maria had exited from.

He reached the front door, wrenched it open and received a cold blow of wind against his rather underdressed frame. He slipped on his boots and stepped to the front yard.

Maria had walked through the front gate and had taken a right, but she was still close to the house.

"Maria!" Albus called, quickly making his way to the gate. Maria stopped in place, and looked at Albus.

"Where's the nearest station?" She asked bluntly, her eyes lingering on Albus's bare legs.

She was wearing a thick coat, which made Albus shiver in cold.

"Swiss Cottage. On the left," Albus said carefully. "Maria I'm sorry," Albus said as she turned towards the station. "I didn't know she'd be home."

Maria stood still. "Is she your – your fiancée?" She asked quietly, not looking at Albus.

Albus sighed. "No. She's not."

Maria nodded slowly, more to herself than to Albus. "Then what is she?" She asked harshly.

Albus rubbed his neck and met her steely gaze. "She's complicated."

Maria blinked rapidly, evidently processing his words. She looked disappointed, and gave him a sad smile. And Albus couldn't stop thinking how beautiful she was, and how he suddenly didn't want her to leave.

He wondered if he had given her a different answer – if he had lied, and told her Emma was nothing but a roommate to him – would she have followed him back inside? Would she have stayed?

What then?

Maria looked away, shaking her head slightly, before glancing at him again. "Goodbye, Albus," she said softly.

Albus watched her leave, and let out a deep breath. He was relieved, but at the same time… he felt uncomfortable. He didn't have any problem receiving enraged insults, but this – the disappointment and the crushed hope was something that always left him feeling restless. And every time it happened, it made him swear not to do it again. To steer clear from girls in general.

He wasn't going to date anyone, he knew that much. He had tried a couple of times during Hogwarts and after graduation, but it always somehow dried away. Albus didn't want to commit to anyone, and he had his arrangement with Emma, which was always going to be a problem for someone, even if he tried to explain it as well as he could. He was happy with his decision not to date anyone, but at the same time, he couldn't understand why it was so hard to find someone like him – someone who didn't want to commit to him either, but wanted to occasionally spend time with him, mainly naked and tangled in his sheets?

Albus realised that he was still standing at his front gate in his boxers and t-shirt as the old lady from three houses down walked by with her dog and gave him a rather nasty look.

Albus cringed, and quickly went back inside. When he returned to the kitchen, Emma had already set the small round table they used for breakfast, including the two cups of coffee Albus had filled earlier. She was standing next to the table, looking remorseful.

"Sorry, Al. Didn't mean to be a bitch." She said quietly, a deep frown between her brows.

Albus trailed his fingers through his hair, and then sighed. "Yeah, 's okay," he muttered, and then walked into Emma's outstretched arms.

She pulled her into a warm embrace.

"You smell like hetero sex."

Albus grinned, pressing himself more firmly against her.

"If you get off on this, I swear I'll hex you," Emma said tightly, before pushing him firmly away.

Albus sniggered. "You're the one cockblocking me – the least you could do is help a bloke out," Albus said simply and took his seat at the table.

"Ugh," Emma said with a sneer. "You know I despise penises."

Albus hummed, sipping his coffee. "Did I mention I missed you?"

Emma started to wolf down her pancakes. "Did I mention my dad expects for you to ask him my hand?"

Albus pursed his lips and frowned at the table. "Emma…"

Emma sighed. "I'll figure something out."

Albus nodded slowly, his eyes moving over her features. He ate his pancakes in silence, wondering how many times they would meet Emma's parents before they didn't accept Emma's and Albus's explanations of not settling down? Her father was a pureblood, like half of Albus's family – and even if Albus's own family couldn't care less who he dated or how long it was appropriate to date before an engagement, it wasn't like that with Emma's parents. Both Albus and Emma knew that their arrangement wouldn't last forever. Her father would put a stop to it one day.

"So… who was she? Where did you meet?" Emma asked, twiddling with the handle of her cup.

Albus pushed his plate away and shrugged. "Just someone I met in a pub in Paddington."

Emma nodded, "You were with Chase?"

Albus grunted in reply.

"He texted me in the morning – ordered me to check upon you," She said with a smirk. "He was worried about you and felt bad for leaving you alone," Emma said lightly. "You didn't reply to his texts."

Albus sniffed. "As if I could get my phone to work in this place." It was true – their house was one of the few ones Albus knew – besides Burrow and Malfoy Manor – where muggle technology wasn't working properly. Even at his parents' house he managed to make phone calls, and the place was heavily warded after the incident few months back.

Emma gave him an agreeing noise. "Figured as much. So, when Amanda left for work, I came back to check on you."

"And how is she?" Albus asked, drinking the last of his coffee.

Emma smiled. "Brilliant. She's really enjoying her new position at Gringotts. We should have dinner together," She said, and Albus nodded.

"Yeah, sounds great." He didn't see Amanda as often as Emma, but whenever they got together, Albus always enjoyed her company. Amanda worked long days at Gringotts, and Albus was glad that she had finally received the promotion she deserved.

Emma's smile faded a bit as her eyes moved over Albus's face.

He knew what she was about to say.

"Em – please…"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Indulge me."

Albus sighed. "Fine, whatever."

"Why don't you try dating? It could be different? You might've not met the right person yet…" Emma said softly. "And you hate this, being casual, you know you do – you always say you'll never do it again, and then two weeks later, we're having this same conversation." Emma cringed and continued with a pained look, "And I realise I haven't really been helping – like for instance, just now…"

Albus licked his lips, and stared at the table. He did hate casual sex, but mostly the way it ended was what bothered him: the mix of disappointment and discomfort.

"I've been thinking…" Emma said, looking thoughtful. "This," she said, gesturing between them "…Is not really a fair solution for you –" And quickly continued as Albus arched an incredulous brow at her, " – I don't mean the house, but how our agreement makes it hard for you to settle down with anyone."

Albus shook his head, opening his mouth to argue.

"You know I'm right, Al," Emma said primly. "Even if you wouldn't want to date anyone, it would be difficult to even try, as long as we keep our façade up."

"I don't want it to end." Albus said simply. "I love the place – and I don't mind your parents."

Emma sighed, putting her cup down at the table. "I know. But… One day, I'll want to come out. I want my parents to know about Amanda, and even though I know they wouldn't accept me – not to even mention, her – I'm tired of lying to them."

Albus's stomach dropped. He knew the day would come eventually, but hearing that it would happen, was different than knowing it would happen sometime in the far future. "All right. When are you planning to do this?" He asked heavily.

"I'm not saying right now, but… perhaps during the next year? I'm not leaving you without a home, Al – and I definitely want to save some money of my own since I'm rather sure I'll be disinherited," She said sullenly.

Albus took her hand in his. "Hey. I'll be fine. You know I have more than enough money – so don't worry about that."

Emma smiled, squeezing Albus's fingers. "Let's not think about it now, okay?" She asked.

Albus nodded, even though he was still thinking about it, naturally. He would lose his home – which he kind of adored – but it wouldn't be the end of the world. He had some money, and his parents would always help him out. It would suck, but he would be fine.

"How's work? How did Chase do with the interview?" Emma asked with a smirk.

They both worked for the Prophet, but rarely worked with the same issues. Emma was a journalist in the Business and Economy section while Albus worked in the Sports section. Chase, who did interviews for the Entertainment section – which was under the same department as Sports – had met with a young singer the previous Friday. Albus's friend had been bouncing off the walls the whole week after their boss had asked him to do the piece. Chase was a big fan, along with half of the wizarding population: the girl – Strawberry Moon – had dominated all three wireless stations in the wizarding Britain for the last five months, and her reign wasn't coming to an end anytime soon.

Albus laughed. "Managed not to sing an aria in her honour," Albus said and shrugged. "It went fine."

They sniggered.

Later that evening they were standing in front of Emma's parents' Villa, and Albus tried to empty his mind and not think about the game or what his mother had said to him afterwards – or even what the next hours would most likely entail.

The game had been a fast one: the Harpies had won the match three hundred and thirty to zero, managing to make eighteen goals and catch the Snitch in less than an hour. Albus had barely resisted the urge to text James about the result just to mess with him. The Harpies and the Magpies had been the two most highest ranking teams for several years, but Albus wasn't sure if Magpies had ever had such a goal streak in such a short time.

Afterwards, Albus had managed to chat a bit with his mother, who had been watching the game. They had talked a bit about work – off the record, naturally – and then Albus's mother had told him that his father had decided to see a Mind Healer, which had naturally been big news. And while Albus's mind had been reeling over that bit of information, she had told him that his aunt Hermione was worried about Hugo – who apparently spent more time at the hospital than he did at home – and had asked if Albus had talked to him recently. He hadn't, even though Hugo was probably the closest relative Albus had, and they used to talk or see each other several times a week. But now, the last time they had talked, had been on Albus's birthday.

And as for the evening at Emma's parents' – well, Albus knew exactly what to expect of it.

"Relax," Emma whispered, and Albus thought it was easy for her to say, when she wouldn't be the one spending hours after dinner locked up in her father's study, under the third degree.

The door opened, and Emma's family house elf stood in front of them.

"Missy Emma!" Nilly squealed in joy.

Emma laughed, and bent down to hug the elf.

"Mister Albus!" Nilly said with a displeased voice, its eyes narrowing slightly. "Still stringing Miss along, I see."

Albus lifted his brows and shook his head. "Anything to wind you up, Nilly," he said lightly.

The elf didn't seem happy by Albus's statement, and only held the door for Emma, letting it bang against Albus's ankles as he walked inside. Albus huffed, and Emma glanced back to give him a reprimanding look, that told him he ought to stop pissing off her elf.

"Darling!" Emma's mother, Mrs Macmillan said with a delighted voice as she descended the stairs to the grand hallway.

Emma walked up to her and after letting her mother to kiss her on both of her cheeks, she pulled her mother into a tight embrace.

"It feels like months have gone since I've last seen you," Mrs Macmillan said to her, and then looked at Albus. "You are as handsome as ever, Albus. Lovely to see you."

Albus smiled. "Thank you, Mrs Macmillan. And likewise."

"Where's my little girl?" Emma's father's voice carried from the drawing room next to the hall. He walked through the open doors and smiled widely at his daughter.

He hugged Emma and then shook hands with Albus, as pompously as usual – and Albus immediately saw the glint in Emma's father's eyes, which meant that he was about to have a serious discussion with Albus later that night.

Albus pressed his teeth together and smiled politely as he followed the group to the formal dining room. Nilly had put up its best effort again, both with the setting and the meal. They sat down: Emma's parents at both ends of the table, while he and Emma sat next to each other on one side.

"So – Albus," Mr Macmillan started after taking his first sip of wine. "How is the paper doing?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Dad… we both work there…"

Mr Macmillan huffed. "I'm aware, darling, and I have understood that you work for different departments?"

"Indeed," Albus said. "I'm at Sports while Emma is at Business and Economy." He didn't miss the smug look on Emma's father's face when he mentioned Emma's department.

It had never been said aloud, at least not to Albus's face, but he was fairly certain Mr Macmillan thought Albus's job – and especially his department – was beneath Emma's. It was somewhat amusing to Albus, since it was widely known that the sports section in the Prophet was what brought most of the money in, and it was both sports and entertainment that most of their subscribers were after, according to their surveys from the past five years.

"We're kept busy by the league, as well as the Quidditch World Cup – like many others. I will be travelling to France next summer to report the games onsite." Albus said.

Mr Macmillan nodded slowly, while watching Albus closely. "And what about Emma?"

"Dad…" Emma said with a warning in her tone.

Mrs Macmillan cleared her throat. "Shall we have dinner?" She asked, but didn't wait for an answer before she nodded at Nilly.

The elf snapped its long fingers and delicious whiffs of garlic filled the room. Four small bowls of garlic soup had appeared on the table in front of them. Albus followed Emma's parents' example and started to eat. While he wasn't exactly beside himself with joy whenever Emma asked him to accompany her to meet her parents, he didn't have anything against the enjoyable meal Nilly prepared every time.

"When will you travel to France, Albus?" Mr Macmillan asked after he had finished his soup and emptied his glass of wine.

Albus swallowed and cleared his throat. "The first round starts in the beginning of June, so… probably a couple of days before that."

"And how long will you be there?" Mr Macmillan asked, pouring himself another drink, while his eyes moved over Albus's features.

Albus tried not to twitch under his stare. "The tournament final is at the end of July. I'll be staying until that."

Mr Macmillan's eyes narrowed slightly as he contemplated Albus's words.

"Oh – isn't your brother playing for the English team?" Mrs Macmillan asked kindly, lifting her brows at Albus.

Albus wasn't looking at Emma's father's direction, but he didn't miss the scoff-like sound.

"Yes." Albus said simply. "He's one of the Chasers."

Mrs Macmillan smiled. "How exciting."

Mr Macmillan let out a grunt of disapproval. "Your brother was awfully lot in the papers during the summer. And again, two weeks ago…"

Albus wanted to roll his eyes at the man. It wasn't like James had been the only Quidditch player to make the headlines last summer. The wizarding world had only a few celebrities, who were mostly Quidditch players. Sometimes, their every move was followed. Luckily, Albus and Chase were both able to filter out the most obnoxious and the most questionable stories. The problem was, however, that the Prophet wasn't the only media outlet in the wizarding world – they had wireless stations that broadcasted news, as well as other papers and magazines.

"I'd say he ought to straighten himself up a bit and focus on his game and not chase after skirts…"

Albus pressed his lips together and stared at his glass.

"Leave it, dad – you know that sometimes the papers don't have the whole story and simply make up half of it! I mean, didn't it happen when you and Al's father were at Hogwarts?"

Emma's father pursed his lips at his daughter. "You're saying don't trust the paper you're working for?"

Emma sighed. "Dad," she said pointedly. "Let's just enjoy our time together, okay?"

Mr Macmillan gave her a tight smile and nodded. Albus's brother wasn't mentioned again, and they continued to the main course.

"How was it?" Emma asked as soon as they had apparated into the shadows in the narrow pathway between their house and their neighbours'.

Albus shook his head and walked towards their backyard. "As one would expect – your old man wanted to know why we're not engaged yet, and when I am planning to ask for your hand."

Emma groaned exhaustedly. They stepped inside the house, and Emma went towards the kitchen counter, flicking her wand at the teapot.

"Tea?"

Albus was tired, both physically and emotionally. But they always talked after coming back from Emma's parents, and formed a plan for the future if they saw it necessary. And Albus thought it was necessary now, after what Emma's father had said to him.

"Yeah, sure." He said and slumped down on the chair at the small round table. He put his elbows against the table and rubbed his face with his hands.

"He's getting impatient," Albus muttered, lowering his hands.

Emma frowned at him, but said nothing as she brought two cups of tea to the table. "Mum said he'd been talking about – about making a contract with your father…"

Albus snorted. First of all, Albus's father knew nothing about his life and 'relationship' with Emma, and second, Albus was rather certain his father thought Mr Macmillan was a pompous prat. And third, even if Albus's father was trying to get better, it was going to be a slow process – and Albus was certain he didn't have the strength to deal with anything else than that.

"Good luck with that," Albus grunted, sipping his tea.

Emma gave him a searching look. "How is your father doing?"

Albus shook his head. "I don't have the energy to talk about my father, Em. No offence."

Emma let out a noncommittal sound. "So – my father then?" She asked with a grimace.

Albus smiled wearily. "He mentioned the contract. I didn't really say much. He went on and on about how it was proper to ask for your hand already, so that it wouldn't look that I was stringing you along – especially, since I am a somewhat of a celebrity myself, apparently." Albus said and lifted his brows and gave her a mock shocked look.

Emma laughed. "You? Your brother perhaps, but if I was you, I wouldn't think too much of myself," she said sardonically.

Albus smirked. "Yes – he did mention James as well."

The amusement vanished from her face. "He didn't. I told him not to!"

Albus shrugged, and briefly wondered if Emma had had a conversation with her parents before the dinner, and told them which topics were off the table. Evidently, her father hadn't taken her request to heart.

"What did he say?"

Albus sighed. What had Mr Macmillan said, exactly? Oh, yes. That however talented Albus's brother was, he had a bad reputation, and it was already reflecting to James's entire family. That after James's rather unfortunate and public dalliances, people were thinking his brother was no different – and the fact that Albus didn't have the bollocks to ask Emma to marry him, only made it worse. Mr Macmillan said it gave her too much space to explore her options, even if they all knew there was no need – and that if Albus just pulled his head out of his arse and made the commitment, they could all settle down into a peaceful life.

It wasn't much different to what Mr Macmillan usually sprouted. However, something he had said about Emma exploring her options, and the expression on his face when he had said it, made Albus think that perhaps Emma's father knew exactly what the arrangement was between them.

"Same old rubbish," Albus muttered and shrugged. "He's afraid people will think I'm not serious about our relationship," he said with a smirk. "That my brother's behaviour is rubbing off on me."

Emma closed her eyes. "Merlin… And I'm sure that wasn't even half of it," She said wearily, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. "He's getting a bit too oppressive, isn't he?"

Albus hummed and drank his tea. "I suppose."

"I'll talk to him," Emma said after a short silence, but there wasn't an inch of confidence in her expression.

They continued talking a bit about work and what they would be doing the next week. Later, Emma went back to Amanda's place where she stayed most of the nights – Albus didn't even remember the last time Emma had stayed a night in her room in her own house – and Albus was alone once more.

Albus cleaned the kitchen before he went upstairs to the sitting room, where he tried to read the muggle novel Rose had given him on his birthday, but after fifteen minutes of blankly staring at the same page, he tossed the book on the coffee table and let out a frustrated groan.

Somehow, the calmness he usually felt when he was alone in the house, had vanished and had been replaced by tension and uneasiness. Albus eventually summoned a piece of parchment and a quill, before scribbling out a letter to his best mate.

It wasn't long before Scorpius's voice echoed from the kitchen.

"Upstairs!" Albus hollered, and frowned as his friend appeared into the doorway of the staircase. "Didn't know you'd come," Albus said as Scorpius walked to the couch Albus had been lounging in.

Scorpius shrugged and sat down next to Albus. "Seemed like you had a crisis."

Albus let out a dry laugh. "I might've been a bit overdramatic…"

Scorpius lifted his brows but said nothing.

Albus sighed and rubbed his face, before looking at his friend. "It's Emma. Our arrangement. Her father… Everything, I suppose."

Scorpius watched him silently for a moment. "You want to end your little…façade?"

Albus stared at the coffee table, and the book Rose had given him. "And you?" He asked instead, thinking about his cousin. "How long will you keep your façade up to punish Rose?" He knew Scorpius hadn't been dating anyone after Catherine – and that she had left him after Scorpius had stared at his ex for the better part of the night.

He could feel Scorpius's eyes narrowed at the side of his face. "Don't change the subject, knobhead."

Albus stared forward, his elbows against his knees, his hands hanging between his legs. "I suppose I do."

"But you'll lose the house?"

Albus glanced at his friend. "It is a lovely house."

Scorpius nodded slowly, appearing to be thoughtful. "It is. Perfectly reasonable to marry a lesbian girl over it, I'd say."

Albus kicked him, laughing dryly. "Wanker."

"I can buy you a house like this, you know that right?" Scorpius said pointedly.

Albus sighed. He knew, of course. He also knew that his parents could buy a similar house rather easily and let Albus live in it. But he didn't want something similar to it – he wanted this house. It had been in this house, where Albus had really grown independent, and it had been the only place he had called home after his childhood home, and he knew it would be lost the moment he and Emma ceased their agreement.

"Do you want me to buy you a house, Al?" Scorpius asked, his face expressionless.

Albus knew his friend was mocking him and sniggering on the inside. He shook his head. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" Albus asked, smirking at him. "You'd be able to tell everyone that you finally made me your bitch."

Scorpius snorted, and grinned at him. "And what's wrong with that?"

"You're fucking twisted."

Scorpius shrugged. "I blame my father."

They chatted a bit more, before Scorpius left back to his home – to Malfoy Manor – and Albus went upstairs to his bedroom. They had agreed to meet next Saturday in Diagon and get shitfaced above anything else.