Tuesday September 4th 2018:

"Well, look at that," Albus said, observing the surface of his suitcase. "Looks like they decided to creatively decorate my luggage as well."

Scorpius positioned himself towards the edge of his own bed so he was closer to Al's on his. "Ah. What "creative piece of art" did they put this time?" he asked, properly stacking his text-books on his table stand.

"Oh, the usual: SlytherPotter, Squib, but that terrible drawing of me is new," Albus responded, turning his trunk to face his friend.

"Well, they may be creative, but they clearly aren't good at actual drawing. Unless it's supposed to be unidentifiable."

Albus made an amused 'hmph', but his emerald eyes didn't leave the doodled dark-haired stick figure with uncanny proportions.

Scorpius settled himself against his pillow - ensuing his task of stacking his books - and lounging from the school day being over. His eyes did not leave his friend; he was deeply concerned about what was occuring in that gloomy mind of his.

To the young Malfoy's relief, Albus pushed aside his trunk so he would pay it no more attention.

"You know, you were right," Albus said.

"About what? I had my hand up pretty much the entire day and answered correctly every time. Hard to say what I was right ab—Oh, that's not what you meant," Scorpius said, nervous upon seeing Al's unamused face—complete with arched brow.

Albus' expression transformed into an elevated lip and very tame chuckle from Scorpius' naiveté. "I'm referring to what you said about this year being different."

"Oh, well, I'm glad you think so now," Scorpius said. "No one gets in Albus' way!"

"Exactly! Everyone here doesn't like me because I'm not what they expected me to be. So, I have no choice but to be more like my dad for them to like me, or at least leave me alone."

That entire epiphany startled the opposite boy to the point of being silent for several seconds. "Actually, you do have a choice."

"Obviously I can't be completely like him. I mean, I don't have the whole 'the boy who survived being potentially murdered by a dark lord' thing to support me, and I'm not a Gryffindor, that's a given," Albus elucidated, so tangled up in his own thinking that he was not facing the disordered Slytherin, nor listening to his output. "What I can do is pick up my broom and try to get someone's attention with my skills so I could get on the Quidditch team like he did."

"But you hate Quidditch," Scorpius protested, his concern increasing.

"I know, but it's the only way," Albus said, finally turning towards his roommate.

Scorpius had the urge to protest some more but was interrupted when Albus' blazing eyes stared at him. No matter what the situation, it was in executable to disapprove with those eyes looking back at him

"I'm tired of being me," Albus said, his appealing face then grim.

That statement made Scorpius grim as well. "Albus, you are the greatest person I know, and if I recall correctly, you are the one who told me that it doesn't matter what others say because they are "lame'', as you put it."

"And they are, but it would be nice to be more liked."

Scorpius' mouth opened, only to be shut again. Nearly two years they have been friends, which was sustained enough for him to know that if Albus Severus Potter set his mind to something, nothing is an obstacle. Another part of him believed that Albus would not fully go through with his plan anyway. Afterall, being identical to his famous father was fundamentally his worst nightmare.

This belief proved to be inaccurate the passing day. Albus' behaviour changed towards others but himself. His sarcasm remained, but he attempted to be more laid back. He put on an act by not letting insults bother him this time. Scorpius would have loved that idea if it weren't all an act.

Scorpius himself liked the idea of change, but unlike Albus' goal, it was the complete opposite; he wanted to be nicer to people than his father ever was in school. Even that simple plan backfired for him because no matter what, he couldn't change the family name which he was born with. The blond quickly accepted what the results he was met with despite his anguish. Thanks to his mother's constant advice, he established that he would look on the brighter side of things. Albus however did not come to the same conclusion.

To make things much worse than they already were, Albus performed what he promised by going outside each day and attempting both overcomplicated skills or basic ones on his broom. Each day he failed to impress anyone; in fact he made the bullying even worse for himself. It was all basic lack of balance and upside down flying until the fourth attempt.

Scorpius watched Albus' every move on that broom, fearing for what could happen if he continued at this rate. With the increased acceleration, the forceful grasp of the broom handle, and the unstableness, Scorpius knew that he would eventually plommet to the ground and injure himself. He repeatedly yelled out to Albus in the air, but he didn't listen because his balance was already lost. The broom nose-dived straight towards the soil beneath but wobbled unstabily from Al's grasp. Albus' body flipped upside down once the head of the broom touched the grass and his head knocked with a luckily light thump. The last thing Albus saw was his only friend running towards him, panicking his name.

Everything was nothing but a blur until his eyes opened to see the exact same person when his eyes were about to close.

"Al! Are you okay?" Scorpius asked, "Albus, sorry."

Albus didn't know if it was because of the thumping of his head, but he actually liked the sound of Scorpius using that nickname, but not enough for him to constantly use it.

"Where am I?" Albus groaned, firmly holding his own head.

"You're in the hospital wing," Scorpius replied.

Albus searched his surroundings with a few turns of his head—taking notice of the room he was in. There were other comfortably made beds—including the one he was in—and it was by far the brightest room in the entire castle with the excessive amount of sunlight peeking from the uncovered windows.

"I'm presuming that I didn't impress anyone with my flying," Albus said dryly.

"Not in a good way, no," Scorpius said bluntly.

Albus drew out a prolonged and heavy sigh.

"You didn't need to do all of this," Scorpius said. "I think you're great the way you are. You don't need to prove anything to anyone."

"You're right. I'll just do something else."

"How hard did you hit your head, Albus?" Scorpius said, both troubled and sincere.

"Trust me. This one will work."

As usual when it came to arguing with Albus, Scorpius could only sit there and say nothing.