Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or anything else you recognise. I only own the plot and my OCs.
Author's Note: How does everybody like the story so far? I know it's a little different to the original one. I needed to fix some errors and fix things I'd written that didn't line with other things I'd written. I felt I owed that to you guys. This story had a lot of plot holes and I hope I can fix them all eventually before I can start updating this story. Thank you all for staying with this story for so long! It honestly means the world to me! – El x
Letters to My Brown Eyed Beauty
Chapter Seven
A few more weeks have passed and Albus and Scorpius have grown distant. Secrets threaten to tear their friendship apart. They can't keep avoiding the elephant in the room. For weeks now, the boys have barely spoken about anything important. They'll occasionally share notes for classes but whenever they stumble upon a topic too hard to talk about, they close-up and change the subject. Albus refuses to talk about the letters he's been getting daily and just shrugs them off as his mum being 'overbearing again'. Scorpius refuses to talk about the howler he got for breakfast from his mother a week ago. Anything that remotely hurts the boys, they shrug as if it means nothing at all.
Tap, tap, and tap.
The light shines in from the window, casting a glow on each of the boy's beds, through their curtains. Albus pulls the covers over him some more, attempting to gain some more shut-eye and hope he can continue dreaming about a familiar pair of brown eyes.
Tap, tap, and tap.
Albus groans, putting a pillow over his head. He knows it's for him, but he refuses to get up. Nobody else gets mail as often as he does. He also knows that if he doesn't get up to get it, someone else will and they'll see. He's still not ready to let anybody in about her. She's his little secret. The only friend he doesn't have to share with anybody else.
He gets up and pulls the curtains open. He walks groggily over to the window, scratching his head. He promptly falls face onto the carpet as soon as he trips over a trunk. He growls and looks back over at it. There is three letters engraved in cursive writing; SMH. Albus growls again, 'I swear to god I will kill Scorpius for leaving his stuff in the middle of the floor.'
"Albus," Scorpius groans as if he knew his best friend was thinking about him.
"Ya?"
Albus' voice was hoarse and a little grumpy as he sat up.
"Keep it down," Scorpius mumbles, sounding muffled. His head was probably under his pillow, as usual.
"Well if someone didn't leave their blasted trunk in the middle of the floor, these things wouldn't happen," Albus hissed as he began to stand up.
"I'll remember to tell Mycale."
Albus rolled his eyes, 'Completely missed the point.' He shook his head and closed the gap between him and the window before gingerly opening it. The owl continues tapping as if no idea that he was standing there. Albus looked over at his Muggle alarm clock – curtesy of his Aunt Hermione – and noticed the time read: 5:52. He sighs realising he wouldn't get the last of his sleep. The owl then decides to fly over to Albus' nightstand. Albus rolls his eyes, "Blood bird," he mutters. He walks over to the bird and takes the letter off him and then the bird flies away. Albus grabs his wand and closes his curtains. He whispers, "Lumos,"to see the letter a bit better. He unrolls the parchment, smiling fondly at the messy scribble of words. He can barely make out 'Green Eyed Boy'.
'Dear Green Eyed Boy,
How is my favourite Wizard going? I know I give you vague answers all the time to my whereabouts and I avoid the question about my name all the time. I also don't mean for my answers to seem half-hearted. What are you implying, Green, when you say such things? If you want to know more about me, stop pounding me with questions every day! All in good time, Green. I promise you.
The relative is nobody special, so don't stress about them. I mean they're fun and I do enjoy spending time with them and he can make me laugh. In a cold place like this, laughing is the best medicine. I enjoy living here more now than I did at first because it's easier to avoid people I dislike and even easier to let the ones I do consume all of my time.
My mother still hates it here and wants to move somewhere else extravagant. She's still the same, hasn't changed a bit. This place may be her home town, but she can't help but remind me every day that it hasn't felt like home in fifteen years. That's what upsets me. She tells me she doesn't miss this place and I believe her but when she says she doesn't mean our relative, I know she's lying. She's missed him every day that she's been apart from him. I think it's almost sweet.
I hope your mother isn't as stubborn as mine, Green. Pretending not to feel the things she does. I can see in her eyes that if things were different, she'd of never moved away in the first place.
Onto better and brighter things, though!
What's your favourite subject?
Until next time, my sweet friend,
Brown Eyed Girl.
PS. I could get used to Wizard candy again.'
Albus chuckled, noticing that as time went on, her letters grew in length and that astounded him. 'She sounds like she's having such a wonderful time,' Albus thinks to himself with a smile. He's happy for her but he always wishes that maybe she'd have more fun with him down here in England. He desperately wished for this new home to be closer to him, like she vaguely said it was. He had futile hope and he knew it.
"Al? Why are your curtains bright? Are you using your wand?"
Albus rolled his eyes and then dimmed his wand, ignoring the fact his best friend was annoyed. "No," he lied.
"You're a terrible liar, you know that, right? Especially when you're trying to lie to me. I'm your best mate."
The words rang in both of their ears and then silence fell.
'Were we still best friends if we are both clearly keeping secrets from one another?'
The boys keep secrets and hide things from the other because they feel its necessary to. They go to great lengths to hide it for a reason because it's so close to their hearts.
They're terrified of how the other will react to them.