Monday 26th December
Rose's sleep was rough and disturbed, broken by dry retching and stumbling into the kitchen for water. The breaks were almost welcome though, reprieve from the vivid fever dreams that came in indiscernible flashes, nothing more than hands fisted in her hair, and a mouth slipping across the surface of her bare skin.
Rose woke to silence—which was unnerving for only a moment, before she remembered where she was. Usually, Tessie's snoring filled the dorm when Rose woke, as well as the coming and goings of her roommates if they ever managed to rise before her.
Her pillow was damp—from sweat or tears, she wasn't sure—but she fought her way out from her sheets, which were stuck and twisted around her like a bind.
Tessie's mattress beside her bed was unmade but empty, which explained the louder than usual silence.
Rose shifted, going to stand, but the sudden movement caused a jolt of nausea in her stomach, so she resigned herself to sitting again. She knew she ought to feel terrible—the memories of last night were coming thick and fast—but the taste of bile in her mouth and aching headache were enough to calm her anxiety into resigned guilt.
She could smell something frying—more of Ron's greasy breakfast food—but it triggered another sickly roil of Rose's stomach, so she breathed through her mouth instead.
There was a quiet click, and Rose's door slowly opened, as though someone were attempting to creep into the room,
"I'm awake." Rose called, her voice throaty, "Come in."
Tessie's blue hair peeked around the door the second before her face, "Oh, sweet. I was just coming to get some clothes." Tessie nodded at her rucksack—trying far too hard to keep her eyes down and expression neutral.
"It's fine, go ahead." Rose gestured her forward, and Tessie tiptoed as though she'd never been in the room before, not looking at Rose, as though she was acknowledging an unspoken plead for privacy.
Rose took a breath, feeling as though she had to pretend to be together now that someone was in the room. She tried to run a hand through her hair, but her fingers caught on knots she hadn't brushed out yet, so she let it drop to her lap.
She'd never felt so isolated before—even if she knew the walls between herself and Tessie were self made. But she was so fucking ashamed, of her actions, of what had happened, and how quickly she'd given in to Malfoy. Even the thought of telling Tessie made her belly twist up with embarrassment, which wasn't a good sensation when combined with the nausea from her hangover.
Tessie had paused on her walk to her rucksack, tiptoeing as though she weren't supposed to be there, "Is there, uh, anything you want to talk about?"
Rose's hands twisted in her sheets of lieu of anything else to do, and she ran her thumbs over the crinkles she'd made, the texture distracting her from the pitying look Tessie gave her,
"No, I'm fine. Thanks though."
Tessie didn't look convinced, but she grabbed her clothes and left without another word.
Saturday 31st December 2022
While Christmas at the Weasley's was a pretty exclusive family gathering, the annual New Year's Party was a free for all. Most people were expected to bring at least one guest, and Molly made enough nibbles to feed at least a thousand.
Most years Albus bought Scorpius, but even after they'd made up on the train, his friend quickly declined the invitation to this year's party—telling an obvious lie about going away with his parents. Al tried not to dwell, but the rejection stung a little.
Most New Year's Scorp would sneak the too-alcoholic eggnog, and Al would stick to pumpkin juice, as he hadn't drunk since the incident with Rose and Ron's port (his first and decidedly last experience with alcohol). Most times Rose and Tessie would join them, starting many games of Truth or Drink in the darker corners of the Burrow where the adults wouldn't spot them. Even if Al only did shots of pumpkin juice or the kid friendly eggnog, he still liked the thrill of pretending to be grown up as another year rolled around.
But Al knew he'd feel a little lost without his usual plus one, not eager to sulk around with Rose and Tessie for the night, feeling sorry for himself.
Maybe that's why he'd scrambled for a spare piece of parchment the day before the party, scribbling out words as quickly as he could, one for each thump of his heart, before his nerves caused the quill to still. He'd closed his eyes as he'd sent the family owl out the window, trying to resist the urge to snatch the invitation back, and fling it directly into the fire.
Albus had probably let it too late anyway. It took a fast owl about ten hours to get to Hogwarts—Taki probably wouldn't receive it in time. Taki probably had something planned. Taki probably didn't want to come. Taki had probably Portkeyed home for the festive season. Merlin.
This was all his parents' fault anyway. Since Al had fallen out of the closet, Ginny had been dropping not-so-subtle hints that he could bring 'anyone' he wanted to the party—anyone at all. 'Anyone' in this context meant a boyfriend, or other romantically inclined companion. Harry had been less subtle and far more curious—asking if Al had a boyfriend (currently or ever), or how you could tell who was gay and who wasn't (as though there were some secret hand signal or something). Albus had found his polite interest endearing, until Harry had asked him if he was dating Scorpius. The absurdity of the idea made Albus accidentally inhale his muesli, and Lily had given him a few firm wallops on the back until the bits of oats and dried fruits evacuated his windpipe.
But mostly it was James' fault, as his brother had moved onto mocking Al for the lack of girls in his life, to the lack of boys. It had ranged from 'well, you can't blame me for your lack of success, eh?' to 'now that your dating pool is even slimmer, you're royally buggered right? Whoops, no pun intended.'
Lily seemed the most nonplussed about Al's coming-out, but then, she said she'd already known. Al knew his family were doing their best, and they did love him, but his parents especially had some old-fashioned stereotypes they were still getting out of their systems. The funniest had been from his father however, when he'd muttered under his breath, 'I did wonder why Dean and Seamus kept sharing a bed.'
Al was digging a clean shirt out of his wardrobe on the eve of the party, when his mother called up the staircase, her voice a few octaves higher than usual, with an inflection that was never good,
"Albus! I think someone is here for you!"
Al nearly fell down the stairs as he ran down them, a combination of frantically buttoning his shirt and taking them two at a time. But then he realized he wouldn't be much use with a broken neck, so he forced himself to slow down and breathe deeply.
By the time Al rounded the corner to the lounge, Taki was already out of the Floo, dusted lightly with soot and looking so gorgeous and floppy haired that Al's heart did a strange little leap at the sight of him.
"Ah, Mum, Dad," Al nodded, as his parents were already in the room, too-polite smiles plastered over their surprise, "this is Taki. My, uh," Al stuttered, "my—"
Taki was shaking Ginny's hand with the confident ease he managed effortlessly, as though he hadn't just crawled out of a Floo into an unfamiliar house.
"Nice to meet you." He grinned, before moving to shake a surprised Harry's hand.
Al may have neglected to inform his parents about inviting Taki to the party, too nervous to admit it to even himself.
But as Taki introduced himself to Harry, Ginny raised her eyebrows, shooting Al an impressed look when Taki couldn't see,
"He's cute!" Ginny mouthed, and Al waved her off, but his cheeks heated.
Then Taki was stepping towards him—a little hesitation this time—and Al knew Taki was trying to judge the situation, not sure if Al was out to his parents yet.
Al wasn't how to signal everything was ok, and that he didn't want Taki faking anything for his sake.
So he tried not to overthink it as he leant up, planting a tender peck at the centre of Taki's lips.
It was clear the other boy was surprised, but he was responsive enough, ending the kiss before it became uncomfortable. But it was clear as Al pulled away, that Taki looked very relieved.
"I'm sorry I didn't send an owl back," Taki explained, "I didn't think my reply would make it back before the party, so I got your Floo address from the school and hoped you'd be here."
"Don't worry," Al nodded, his eyes flitting between Taki and the expectant way in which his parents were watching, "that was my fault for inviting you so late. I hope you didn't have any other plans."
"No, not at all," Taki reassured him, "just the Hogwarts fireworks and a big dinner."
"So, Taki, you're an exchange student? Which year are you in?" Harry pulled their attention back to the wider group, and Al could tell his Dad was playing the role of 'protective Dad'—or trying to, at least.
Taki's eyes flicked to Al, testing the waters, and Al realized it was the first time he'd seen Taki looked nervous. It looked odd on him, as though he was nothing but his unfailing unfazed self, "I'm actually out of high school. I'm doing an apprenticeship with Professor Longbottom."
"Oh!" Ginny's eyes lit in recognition, "Neville said in his last letter he had an apprentice, remember, honey?" she nudged Harry.
But Harry's brow was creasing, "So, how old are you?"
"I just turned nineteen."
His father's brow crease was a full blown frown now, and Al's internal sirens were going off, "You're three years older than Al?"
"More like two years," Al cut in, "I'm practically seventeen."
"Not until the end of February." Harry said, as though Al had forgotten his own birthday.
"Harry…" Ginny hissed in a warning whisper, and Al found his face flushing again.
"Would you like to see my room?" Al turned to Taki, whose face was a mask of well-mannered panic.
"Yes! Yep!" Taki agreed a little too eagerly, and Al all but dragged him away.
Harry looked after the two of them as though he wanted to make a comment about leaving the door open, but Ginny gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. Al caught the edges of their bickering as he led Taki up the stairs, cringing for Taki's sake,
"—trying to look out for him!"
"Last I checked, Harry James Potter, I'm a full year younger than you!"
"One year is quite different to three!"
"You're just panicking because your youngest son is growing up. You better get used to it—it'll be Lily next!"
"Don't be ridiculous." His father huffed.
Al made sure to close the bedroom door behind them, a little passive-aggression for his father to fret over.
But it seemed Ginny's talking to had calmed Harry a little, as he was perfectly pleasant as they all made their way to the Burrow. It was an hour in—after sixty minutes of introducing Taki to everyone, as his 'uh, friend' and many raised eyebrows in response—before he finally pulled the boy aside.
"I'm sorry about before. My Dad only has the best intentions, I swear, but he can be a little blunt sometimes—"
Taki sighed, "I thought it might come up. We should've discussed it sooner."
Albus paused, "It doesn't make any difference to me. I don't think there's any real difference between us, you've just finished school and I haven't. It's only three years—"
"It is a big difference at this age, though." Taki frowned, "I should've thought about it before—"
"If you're breaking up with me on New Year's, Taki, I will… I'll… I'll hit you!" Albus said furiously, terrified at the resignation in Taki's voice, at the way his face had scrunched up as though he was about to do something unpleasant.
"No, no!" Taki said quickly, looking panicked, "That's not what I'm getting at—I just think I should talk to your parents. I just forget that there's the gap between us because you're so mature, Al, far more than I was at your age. Don't worry," Taki assured, "I'll chat with your Dad. Smooth things out."
"I don't know—"
But confident Taki was back in place, and Al couldn't help feeling reassured when Taki insisted, "Don't worry, Al. It'll be fine. Promise."
Rose gingerly turned down a third offer for a drink as she and Tessie made their way to the snacks table. The week between Christmas and New Year's had passed at a painful pace—her whole family and Tessie watching Rose as though she was a volatile cauldron primed to blow.
She knew she owed them an explanation, but the furthest Rose had gotten was a gritted out 'I'm sorry' to her parents, who'd looked only sympathetic in return.
Usually they were such an open family, which was way Rose was (normally) incapable of keeping things to herself, and prone to oversharing. Hermione expressed herself passionately, and she and Ron had never kept their frustrations away from their children. Even Hugo poured his everything into his music, and slammed doors whenever the piano couldn't adequately communicate his anger.
Because of the Weasley-Granger's openness, Rose had always run directly to Hermione's arms with even the littlest of problems. It seemed they were surprised by her silence more than anything else, uncharacteristic as it was. Yet the thought of even beginning to talk about what had happened between her and Scorpius—telling her parents especially—made Rose feel ill. In her most objective of minds, she recognized her parents were probably physically intimate (yuck), but she preferred to pretend they had no idea about anything to do with sex, and would prefer not to hear that she'd practically had it—or some sub-genre of it—on the desk of the Potions classroom they'd also studied in at Hogwarts.
Once she and Tessie had loaded their arms with treats, Tessie nodded to the back doors of the Burrow, "Let's go outside." She suggested around a mouthful of mince pie, and Rose had no reason to disagree.
On their way to the garden, they passed Albus in the lounge, talking in hushed tones to a ridiculously attractive guy—it took Rose a second to realize that it must be Taki, who Rose was yet to actually meet—but Albus met her gaze and gave her a look that meant 'we'll talk later'. Rose just gave him a nod of confirmation, before slipping out the mismatched barn door that led to the generous Weasley back garden.
Like every year, a marquee had been erected, and a generous warming charm filled the whole area, the ice and snow on the grass melting away. Often, later in the night when drunkenness ensued, the lights were switched to multi-coloured, flashing and lighting up an impromptu dancefloor. But for now, it was only seven pm, and the youngest of the Weasley clan were still running around on sugar highs, enjoying the last hour or two before their parents would attempt to settle them to bed.
Rose was past this age now—but traditionally New Year's was a big sleepover at the Burrow for the kids, where Nana Molly would conjure up sleeping bags and stick all the grandkids in different rooms across the house. She never dared to separate Al and Rose, who'd usually bunked in Ron's room with Louis Weasley, James, Freddie and Molly—the 'middle ground', as they all sat roughly in the middle of the grandchildren age range.
When Hogwarts started, Scorpius and Tessie were thrown in the mix too, always welcomed as part of the rough and tumble gang the six of the Weasley/Potters formed, rampaging around the property and daring each other to perform increasingly dangerous stunts. Freddie usually lead the cluster—slightly older by a few months—and with all the mischievousness of the late Weasley son he'd been named for.
It made Rose feel sweetly nostalgic, remembering the gang they'd formed in their youth. They'd all drifted a little now—finding their own friend groups at Hogwarts, a little afraid to be associated with the loud and proud mass that was the Weasleys. They all still met up at these sorts of functions though, making small talk and 'remember whens'. Rose knew now though that their camaraderie was one that only came with childhood, and there was no point trying to rekindle something she'd always recall fondly.
She and Tessie made the rounds—'yes, study was good; no, they didn't know what they were doing after Hogwarts'—but Rose was genuinely glad when they happened upon Teddy and Victoire, the latter with her hands clamped protectively around her swollen belly.
Victoire complained about swollen ankles and water retention, but Rose told her she was glowing—just like always. Rose could only hope to look half as pretty on her best day as Victoire looked while heavily pregnant, but she gracefully complimented Victoire all the same.
"Teddy was hoping for a New Year's baby—you get in the Prophet if you have the first baby of the year." Victoire laughed, "But I don't think that's going to happen—he's quite firmly in there."
Teddy, whose hair was a kaleidoscope of firework colours for the celebration, winked, "We've still got a few hours, we'll see yet."
Rose and Tessie shuffled along when Nana Molly came to cluck around Victoire, talking about birthing techniques and 'I told you, didn't I, that I practically birthed the twins myself? Arthur was at work—see—and he was supposed to pick up Floo powder, but—" and Teddy shot Rose a long-suffering look from the corner of his eye.
Rose was in such good spirits after her chat with Victoire and Teddy, that it took a second for her heart to sink when Tessie suggested in a careful tone,
"Would you like to go for a proper walk?" she nodded out past the marquee, into the snowy darkness where they were unlikely to be seen or heard.
Credit to Tessie, she had been very patient over the last week. Not once had she bugged or pestered Rose about what was weighing her down, or why she moped about the house like a depressed dementor. It wasn't that Rose enjoyed freaking her family out—she'd just spent the week encompassed by the weight of her own thoughts, attempting to untangle what had caused them.
"Alright." Rose agreed, not enjoying the resignation in her tone. She didn't want to relive her experience again, even verbally, but she owed Tessie this.
They walked in silence past the warming charm, both curling in a little bit as the winter winds finally caught them, slicing through their coats and turning free strands of hair into whips. Rose fought to contain hers into a sticking charm as the two stopped, right at the edges of the light from the marquee.
Rose wasn't sure what to say, and Tessie wasn't filling the silence with anything, just waiting for Rose to put words to the funk she'd found herself in. The scene of oddly profound—here the stood on the edges, physically marking the frame of mind Rose had found herself in the past week.
"First of all," Rose began, "I'm sorry for making a fuss. I know I was moping—but I couldn't help it, and I—"
"You don't need to apologise," Tessie cut in quickly, sounding surprised, "for not being okay, Rose. We—me, your parents, your family—recognise you're processing some shit right now, and you don't need to apologise for that."
Rose nodded, "Yeah, you're right. I just—" where did she start? "I don't know. I did stuff with Scorpius."
It wasn't as eloquent as she'd been hoping for—she wanted to explain how off the whole thing had been, how he'd looked at her in utter disgust, and how much she'd grown to care about him against her will. But she'd gone and blurted out the crux of the problem in the simplest terms, and made it sound so much smaller outside of her head.
Tessie sucked in a breath, "You aren't pregnant, are you?"
Rose spluttered, "No, no! Things didn't go that far. There were just some hands—'a' hand—but…"
"Oh my God," Tessie sighed, sounding weirdly relieved, "you were so anxious, I thought you had to be pregnant. Or owe money to an underground goblin mafia who were threatening to break your legs or something."
Rose laughed breathlessly, appreciating that Tessie could still bring humour into it, even when Rose's roiling stomach felt like anything but, "No, nothing like that. But, God, it feels like that."
Tessie gave Rose a quizzical look, and Rose decided she'd start from the beginning. Then, slowly, she broke everything down—the volatile detentions spent together, the blooming comfort in one another's company. Rose even confessed to the little things—how he'd drugged Selwyn in revenge, the Veritaserum, the late night not-quite Quidditch game on the pitch. She was realizing how much she'd kept to herself as she finally let it all air, and judging by the sounds Tessie made, most of it was entirely unexpected. Even as she told the story, she could see how each interaction had built, growing violently into something far beyond Rose's control. While the scene on the desk was still out of the blue, Rose could see know what had sparked it, and that it hadn't been borne from nothing.
"But, the way he looked at me afterwards—he was horrified. I keep playing it over in my head, terrified I crossed some kind of boundary with him."
"Well," Tessie mused, "did he express any verbal or physical reluctance from what you can remember?"
Rose had been over it so many times she didn't have to think, "No, he didn't, I mean, he was the one initiating and I was the one following along."
"Was he responding enthusiastically?"
"Yeah, he did. Right up until the kiss, at least. He was the driving force behind the whole thing."
Tessie shrugged, "Honestly, Rose, I think you're overthinking it. He was probably just surprised—it sounds like it was all pretty abrupt."
Rose chewed away at her lip in thought, "I know, it was abrupt. And I feel like even more of an idiot, because I gave in so quickly! Is that all it takes? Eight hours? Scorpius has always been such a twat to me, and all it takes is for him not to be as intolerable for eight hours and suddenly I cave? I didn't even try and resist!"
Tessie went to say something at that, but Rose noticed when her friend bit down on her words, brows furrowing in the centre as she swallowed whatever she'd been about to say.
"What?" Rose pressed, "What were you going to say?"
Tessie sighed, brows still furrowed, "You're not going to like it."
"That doesn't matter." Rose insisted, "we always tell each other the truth—you know that."
"I—" Tessie fiddled with her nose ring, "I don't think you actually ever hated Scorpius."
"That's—" Rose was so flummoxed she was lost for words—whatever she'd been expected Tessie to say, it wasn't that, "that's ridiculous. You've seen the issues we've had, I've always despised—"
"Maybe I should've phrased that better." Tessie sighed, now fiddling with one of the several pieces of jewellery in her left ear, flicking away the blue strands that got in her way with impatience, "I just think you and Scorpius have always had more than just hatred. You've always gravitated towards one another—seeking each other out, even under the pretence of winding one another up. I'm not trying to justify Malfoy's behaviour—" Tessie amended quickly, as Rose tried to protest, "because he has been downright awful at times. But there's always been something there, something that pulled you two together, and made your interactions so…intense. I just think that intensity has previously manifested itself as hatred, and now it has the opportunity to take a new shape."
Rose was completely dumbfounded, but judging by the anxious look of Tessie's face, she was awaiting an answer, "Are you trying to say that Scorpius and I would've been inevitable either way?"
Tessie shrugged, "I'd say spending so much time together probably sped it up but… yeah. It's always been Scorpius for you—you've never been so actively engaged with a boy as you are with him. There was never anyone else, really. Was there?"
Rose wanted to prove her wrong—defend her rivalry with Malfoy to the bitter end. But she scoured her mind for any other connection as intense with any other boy, flipping through six years of memories, but all she could draw up was Scorpius, Scorpius, Scorpius, and the realization made her cheeks heat, "Well, no, but—"
"I'm not saying I'm right," Tessie emphasized, "Just an observation from the outside. I just think you're lying to yourself with that whole 'only eight hours' rhetoric, that's all."
It wasn't a comfortable feeling—having a whole belief washed away like a poorly structured sandcastle, and Rose's mind was happy to provide evidence with all the bits in between the horribleness—like the thrill arguing over points in class, the way Rose always asked Albus about Scorpius and then pretended not to care, or seeing him curled up beside her in the Burrow, on New Year's parties just like these and feeling a little rewarded at the sight.
"Oh my God," Rose groaned, pressing her face into her hands, "oh my God. I'm an idiot."
"You're not an idiot. We were all just waiting."
Rose groaned again, "In my defence, I still do absolutely loathe him, and I think I always have. But, I admit," she conceded, "I don't think that was ever it."
Tessie shrugged, "You probably did—and do—hate him. But hate isn't a mutually exclusive emotion."
Rose wanted to fold in on herself, she was cringing severely, but settled for rubbing the heels of her palms into her eye sockets until she saw stars. Tessie watched on very patiently, until Rose let out a long sigh, finally straightening,
"It has always been him."
Tessie laughed with kindness, "He's your Achilles heel."
Though they could still hear the music from their position way from the marquee, the crunching of boots on snow was closer than both of them had expected, and they turned,
"What did I miss?" Al called, tugging the edges of his scarf against the cold he'd stepped into.
"Rose just realized she's been in hate love with Scorpius for six years." Tessie said, and Al barked a laugh,
"Jeez, finally?"
Rose shot him her best unimpressed look, but he only laughed again.
The cold was bracing against the warming charm, but judging by the glazed look of shock in Rose's eye, they'd needed the privacy. Al stepped closer, huddling against his cousin for warmth.
"What prompted this realization?" Albus pressed, "Give me all the details."
Rose deadpanned, "He took me on a Potions desk."
Al's face scrunched at the mental image he was assaulted with, "Too many details, thank you." But then her words caught up with him, "Wait, wait. Does this mean you're no longer part of the sad virgin club? Do you mean he took you—like actually? God, who am I going to complain to about my virginity now?"
"No, not quite," Rose blushed, "I mean, there were hands—or fingers rather, and I—"
"Alright, alright." Albus said quickly, "I get the point."
"Speaking of boys," Tessie segued, "where's your hunk gotten to?"
Albus supposed he hadn't exactly hidden Taki, but Tessie's comment was a strong reminder that two very different parts of him were mingling somewhere under the marquee, and Al had left them completely unattended. He tried not to let the panic show on his face,
"I left him to fight off the Weasleys by himself. Last I saw, Nana Molly was slow-dancing with him to Celestina Warbeck in the kitchen, ever uncomfortable as he looked. But you two were clearing out at an impressive pace—so I knew Rose was having some kind of crisis and my help was probably needed."
Rose shrugged, but she was distant with shell shock, "Just quickly dismantling everything I've ever thought for the past six years, no biggie."
Al could see she needed humour, but wouldn't be surprised if he and Tessie had to go around and collect her later, "So, what now?"
"'What now?'" Rose echoed.
"Traditionally, when you realize you're in love with someone, you endeavour to let them know."
Rose paled, "Jesus, I can't even think about that."
Al sighed. It had always been an open secret that Scorpius and Rose had some weird angry tension going on, but he'd always assumed they'd never act on it in their school years—instead having an illicit affair in their forties beyond their spouses' backs, like most normal people.
"If it makes you feel any better," Al said, "Scorpius is just a human. Well, I think he is, anyway. I have shared a dorm with him for six years, so I think I have it on good authority to say so. And also, he's in exactly the same position as you."
"He is?"
Al shrugged, "I don't think he's been forced to realize it yet—but it I assume both of you participated in the desk incident?"
"Well, yeah—but he seemed so ashamed afterwards and—" Rose launched into a description of the aftermath, and how Scorpius had looked utterly horrified at their actions. The detail in which she described it, Albus knew she'd been terrorizing herself with it, probably running it over and over in her mind in the tortuous way they were both so good at.
Al felt a pang of guilt—he should've kept up with her, not getting caught up in his issues with Taki and travelling. But the holiday season was always so hectic, and Al's mind had been in a thousand different places. Ginny had mentioned that Rose had left the Christmas dinner with her family looking a bit ill, but Al hadn't had a moment to think on it.
"I don't think his horror would've been directed at you, Rose. Thing is, Slytherins are reserved and uptight, and Malfoy is both those things times ten. Such a passionate and vulnerable moment probably surprised him as much as it did you—he's probably ashamed for showing you his soft side."
"You think so?" The hope in Rose's voice was so puppy-doggish Al's heart melted a little.
"I'm absolutely certain. Just talk to him, straighten it out. I know he's been an asshole to you, but he's actually a pretty reasonable guy."
Tessie—the only one facing the marquee—suddenly looked over Al's shoulder, focussing in on something in the distance, "Looks like your hunk escaped Nana Molly's grasp." She noted with some amusement, and Al whipped around.
Taki was by the nibbles table, talking with Ginny and Harry. His face was so open and earnest, gesturing madly as he talked. Al felt a pang of fondness—did these things ever fade?—until he caught his father's expression, which was scrunched up as though he was tasting something unpleasant. The previous pang dropped into something low and fearful, and he knew something was going down.
"Ah, shit!" he muttered to himself, "I'll be right back." He said to Tessie and Rose, barely looking back, before taking over at breakneck speed to where Taki and his parents stood under the marquee.
He caught the tail end of Taki's sentence, just as he joined the group, "—and the trip will be professional, before all else. That's where my priorities lie, and where Al's lie too."
"Ah! Hello!" Al cut in quickly, a manic smile an attempt to smother his panic, but Taki must've seen something in his eyes, as the boy's face fell.
"Trip?" Harry had turned to Albus now, "Something you've neglected to mention, Al?"
"Oh, shit." Taki muttered beside him, "Albus, I'm so sorry, I didn't—"
Al's whole body was sweating profusely, a trickle ran down his neck under his scarf, "Ah, Taki's asked me to join him on an expedition. He's writing a book, and he needs an assistant for a year—it's a, uh, study in equatorial ecology. It's, uh, a gr-great opportunity, you see and—"
"Ecology! That's right up your street, Al!" Ginny was trying to do damage control too, her manic panic-covering smile identical to Al's.
"A year? You'll leave after you've finished school?" His father was a dog with a bone when he wanted to be, and Al could see the determined glint in his eye.
"Not quite, see, Taki's leaving in June—"
"June! June this year?!"
"It's not twelve yet, so it's still actually June next year—"
Harry cleared his throat, "Albus, I don't suppose we could talk outside the marquee for a moment?"
But his father wasn't waiting for an answer, he all but frog-marched Al from the gazebo, Ginny and Taki watching on as though they wanted to step in, but knew better of it.
The gust of cold on Al's face stung a little more this time, but maybe because he was being escorted forcefully from the warmth, his quietly fuming father at his back.
"Al!" Harry started, pushing his glasses up his sweaty nose with his index finger, "What on earth is going on?!"
"Well, as I said in the tent," he could feel his temper beginning to prickle, as panic faded, "I've been offered a fantastic professional opportunity—"
"Eloping with a boy isn't a professional opportunity!" Harry cut in, something flashing in his eyes, "Especially when it's cutting your education short!"
Al didn't enjoy the feeling of being condescended—his father's exasperation making him feel like he was an idiotic five-year-old, "I'm not eloping—we're writing a book! And it's going to advance me far more in life than my bl—bloody education is! I hate it! I hate my school work, I'm absolutely terrible at it! Every minute I spend writing an essay, or sitting in a bloody classroom, I want to throw myself off the Gryffindor tower! It's awful!"
He was red faced now, whether it was embarrassment or anger he wasn't sure.
"If you're struggling in school, we'll get you a tutor—you don't need to go galivanting off with a—" Harry gestured with frustration at Taki, who stood in the tent with Ginny, squinting out at them, "with some—hunky foreign boy!" He finally spluttered.
If Al wasn't so angry he might've laughed at his Dad's word choice, but rage was too loud, "It's not about the grades, I just hate it! Some people aren't made for school, and I'm one of those people!"
Harry pushed his glasses up again, clearly trying to contain his own frustration, and Al had never felt so little, "That's irrelevant! Even if you hate it—you need the qualification! You have to finish your NEWTs, it sets you up for life—"
Al snorted, "Well, that's bloody hypocritical, isn't it?"
Harry's face darkened, "Don't even try to bring my experiences into this—you know my situation was completely different."
"So what, I'm supposed to find some racist despot to bring down, and then I can leave school early?"
"I had a viable career lined up! I had options! What—you go travel with this boy, write a book? What then? You think royalties from a bloody book will pay rent? What then? Then you're a half-educated kid who ran off his—boyfriend, and your name probably won't make it onto the front cover!"
"It's not about him, it's an opportunity—"
They'd graduated to shouting at some point, but Albus couldn't remember when. His heart was pounding in his chest, his face was flaming against the cold, and he was so furious he wanted to burst into tears. He fought not to let it show in his voice.
"Yeah right, 'it's not about him.'" Harry scoffed, "You've let this older boy talk you into following him out of school—you're just a child! You don't know what you're doing!"
Al let his voice drop, embarrassed at the idea of being heard by Taki, but the low tones let the bitterness and hurt in, "Well I'm sorry for being an underachiever. I'm sorry I'm not an effortlessly brilliant boy wizard with the fate of the world on his shoulders. But I'm not going to stand in your shadow forever, doing what you think is right. I'm leaving on this trip. If you won't give me the money, I'll fund it myself. And even if I leave, and we're on terrible terms, and I don't hear a single word from you the whole trip, I'm not going to regret my decision. Because I made it."
Albus was brimming to the rim with anger and disappointment, all twisting into an odd sadness. He could tell his father still had a thousand things to say, but it was as though Al's words had put a pin in him, his whole body deflating as the anger rushed out.
"If you don't mind," Al continued, "I'm going to have one of Nana Molly's leftover Christmas pies. I imagine they're pretty hard to find in Equator."
It was a petty thing to say, but he didn't want for a response, storming back to the marquee. It seemed the party was going on without them. Though his father's fury had been Al's whole world for the last few minutes, but their voices hadn't even reached the marquee. Ginny rushed towards him as he stepped back into the warming charm,
"I'll talk to him." Ginny promised, "He loves you."
Al was trying really hard not to cry now, he spotted Taki standing by the snacks table, looking like a kicked puppy, "I know. We'll talk back at the house."
Ginny let him go, seeing where Al wanted to be.
Taki's apologies started before Al had even reached him, "God, I am so sorry. I just assumed you'd told them about the trip—they seemed so chill about you coming out, I thought they knew everything and I—"
"It's fine." Al smiled, giving Taki as reassuring squeeze on the arm, "I think Dad and I have been needing to have that conversation for a while now."
Taki didn't look convinced, "Really? It looked like a lot of shouting."
"I have complete faith it'll be fine." Al was on the comedown, he'd never felt so assured before, "But I've finally got an answer for you."
"You do?"
"Yes. That's the answer, by the way. I'm coming on the trip."
Taki's creased brow lifted, but Al didn't see it for long, before Taki pulled him into a tight hug.
A/N: Ah, sorry for the long delay between chapters! Life keeps taking away my writing time. Also, I've done that thing again where I write until 4am, and am then too drained to do a spelling/grammar check so I'm sorry for any glaring errors. Thanks again for the lovely reviews, you're all wonderful!