Author's Note: This is the title chapter but no, sorry, it's not particularly pivotal. It just happens to be the chapter for the title song of the album. I hope it's still good though. :)

-SQ

Disclaimer: Nope, still not J.K Rowling, which means I still don't own Harry Potter. Tough.

Chapter Nine: Look Around

Scorpius Malfoy was packing his trunks to move out of his (ex) boyfriend's house. Again. Not that it was the same ex-boyfriend, just that over the past four and a half years Scorpius had changed apartments a total of eight times. This would be his ninth. After graduating from Hogwarts he had almost immediately found himself his own apartment, in spite of his mother's insistence that he was welcome to remain living at home. Hardly had he established himself in his new place however, when he had met Ralph, a handsome Gringotts employee a few years older than himself, and two month later Scorpius had moved in with him. They had lived together for nearly six months before things had fallen apart and Scorpius had found himself moving back into an apartment of his own. And so it went, in and out of boyfriends' apartments, flats, and houses, never really settling down on his own. So much for his grand schemes of independence. At least he had a steady job.

Scorpius pulled the last of the boxes out of the back of the closet, releasing a cloud of dust into the air which made him cough and splutter. He wondered why he even bothered to take this beat up old cardboard box with him every time he moved; it was full of old odds and ends from Scorpius's school days, and he was pretty sure that was the last time it had been opened.

As he yanked it out of the corner of the closet there was a riiiiiiiping sound and one of the weathered, faded sides fell away, followed by a cascade of junk onto the carpeted floor.

"Fuck."

Scorpius squatted down on the carpet and surveyed the cardboard ruins. He could just cast reparo on the old piece of junk, but he knew it was only a matter of time before it fell apart entirely, and now was as good a time as any to sort through the musty contents.

Settling himself into a more comfortable position on his knees, Scorpius picked up the first dust covered item; an eagle-feather quill, hopelessly bedraggled, the tip still coated in ink. Scorpius cast it aside; he had a dozen more like it, all in better repair than this one.

The next item was a leather bound notebook with the word Charms printed on the cover in Scorpius's own flowing handwriting. He flipped through it idly, smiling at his boyhood enthusiasm for the subject, one he hadn't lost when he had left school. Still, no use keeping the thing; he tossed it on top of the broken quill.

So too he discarded a stack of old Quidditch and Charms magazines, a handful of chocolate frog cards, several other school books and notebooks, and a myriad of other things Scorpius had no idea why he had seen the reason to keep. Apparently he hadn't wanted to let go of anything that had to do with his time at Hogwarts.

Scorpius brushed his long blonde hair back from his eyes and reached for the last item in the box. He immediately recognized it as his old sketchbook. As he picked it up a loose page fluttered out of the book and landed on the floor by his knees, face-down.

He picked it up, intending to tuck it back inside the sketchbook, but the drawing on the faded sheet of parchment caught his eye. He smoothed it out, staring down at the vividly drawn scene in his lap.

It was very well done, probably one of his best from his schooldays, though now he could do better, but that wasn't what had caught his attention.

The drawing was of a unicorn, pitch black and bleeding, tethered to the ground by ropes of flame. In spite of its crazed fury, a figure, features obscured by shadow, was attempting to calm and free the beast.

Scorpius had forgotten about this picture, but now that he saw it he remembered drawing it; it had been among the first things he had drawn after attempting to take his own life in his third year at Hogwarts; and he remembered well the day he had shown it to Albus Potter.

Albus Potter. There was someone he hadn't thought about in a while. His first year out of Hogwarts he had nearly driven himself crazy thinking about the former Gryffindor, but time had passed, and life had gone on, and the dark haired, green eyed boy had slipped further and further from his mind. Not that he had completely forgotten about him, how could he? The second son of the famous Harry Potter, while not quite as popular with the press as his Quidditch star older brother, still got his fair share of publicity. Scorpius didn't hold much by the Daily Prophet, the most popular wizarding newspaper, which was still rather more about selling itself then delivering real news, but he did remember reading a year or two back about Albus's engagement to some up-and-coming model, a friend of the family's or some such. The picture in the paper had featured a smiling, dashingly handsome Albus with his arm around a very pretty, long-legged, shapely brunette with a stylish bob-cut and an adorable sprinkling of freckles. Scorpius hadn't looked long, but somehow he was able to recall every detail of the photograph perfectly.

Scorpius wondered where Albus was now. In the nearly five years since they had graduated from Hogwarts Scorpius hadn't run into Albus even once. Granted, Britain, even wizarding Britain, was a big place, but Scorpius had certainly come across other old schoolmates and found it slightly odd that he had yet to run into Albus.

He assumed that Albus had settled down with his new wife; a nice little house, or a big one, seeing as both of them were quite rich, family and friends visiting all the time, perhaps a baby on the way. Scorpius felt just a bit envious; he didn't see marriage or settling down or babies anywhere in his future.

That's what you get when you're gay and indecisive and hard to please, he told himself.

"Scorpius? Do you need any help?"

Scorpius started internally, though not visibly, and looked up from his kneeling position on the carpet. Aaron stood in the doorway, his untidy dark brown hair falling into his pale green eyes.

Scorpius shook his head. "No, Aaron, I'm nearly done, just have to pack these last things and throw out this box."

He stood, wincing slightly as he straightened his knees; he hadn't realized how long he'd been kneeling on the floor.

"You sure you don't need any help?"

"No, I'm fine," said Scorpius.

He felt rather guilty. He knew Aaron still liked him, a lot, and wanted him to stay, but he wasn't pressuring him, which made it even worse. At least when he had fought with his boyfriends he hadn't felt so guilty about leaving them. Scorpius had had real feelings for Aaron when they had first gotten together, he wasn't that cruel, but the truth was, Scorpius had just grown tired of the other man. He was a really sweet guy, but he held no interest for Scorpius anymore. The blonde was bored.

Scorpius latched the clasp on the last of his trunks and flicked his wand to levitate them.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then," he said, smiling at Aaron.

"Yeah," said Aaron, smiling back sadly. "Remember, if you ever need a place to stay or anything, my house is always open."

"Thanks, Aaron, I'll keep that in mind."

*****LA*****

After finding the picture (which, when he had opened the sketchbook to investigate further, had been accompanied by several more sketches of Albus Potter, age thirteen through sixteen) Scorpius found himself often thinking about the other man, even looking around to see if he was about whenever he went out, something he hadn't done since he was eighteen. The wizarding world was a pretty tight-knit community after all; they were bound to run into each other soon or later. Scorpius wondered when and where it would happen, and what is would be like when it did. Albus was bound to have changed in the past four and a half years; Scorpius knew he certainly had. Would they be enemies? Friends? Acquaintances? Strangers? Would they even have anything to say to one another at all? Scorpius wasn't even sure what kind of terms they had parted on. He caught himself yet again doing a double take to make sure that a passing man wasn't Albus Potter and shook his head. What a silly waste of time; as if he could control when and where and how he would finally meet Albus again. When had worrying about the future gotten him anywhere? All he had to worry about right now, he thought, glancing up at the street sign for sixteenth street and then checking his watch, was getting to work on time.

*****LA*****

Albus surveyed his small, cluttered flat. Okay, it wasn't really that small, he amended with a rueful smile, it only seemed that way because of all the stuff thrown helter-skelter around it. Stuff he would have to do something about before his sister and cousins arrived in the morning. Oh why did he always put everything off until the last minute?

Albus scowled at the heaps of things piled on his bedroom floor. He had been using the guest bedrooms as storage spaces—not very organized storage spaces—and now he had the task of sorting through all of the junk that he had been keeping there. How had he ended up with so much stuff anyway? He had gotten rid of nearly everything he had owned as a student when he graduated from Hogwarts, but somehow in the course of the last four and a half years he had managed to accumulate just as much stuff as he had gotten rid of.

He was tempted to dump the lot in the rubbish bin and be done with it, but he knew that there were things in there that he wouldn't want to throw away. He sighed in resignation. Well, all this crap wasn't going to sort itself.

*****LA*****

It was surprising, really, how fast work went when you really bucked down on it. Albus had found this when he was at school too; he had always been the kind who did his best work under pressure. It was several hours later and nearly everything in the many piles had found a home, most of it not in the rubbish bin. Albus picked up a few old books that were still strew about the carpet and went over to stick them on the bookshelf. As he did so a sheet of parchment slid out of one of them and fluttered to the floor.

Curious, Albus bend down and picked it up, wondering what it could be. It seemed to be a drawing. The only person Albus knew who could draw this was well his cousin Dominique, but this wasn't her style at all; the lines were too bold, the shading too intense, the technique more earthy than Domi's rather ethereal artwork.

Albus settled his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and peered at the picture. The subject matter wasn't anything like Domi's either. She tended to draw nature scenes and wildlife and animals, sometimes houses or cityscapes, but rarely people, and this drawing was most definitely of people. An intertwined couple, the dark of the man's hair complementing the light of the woman's in a very striking manner.

Or was it a woman? Albus looked closer. No, the second figure, despite the long pale hair, was distinctly male. But he would hardly call it a man, more like boys, both of them, hardly more than children really. Albus felt a slight stirring somewhere inside of him. The drawing was very well done, the passion between the two teens obvious even in parchment and ink. And it had been a very long time since Albus had indulged his taste for men as well as women. But why in the world did he have a drawing of two boys kissing in the first place?

And then he knew, and he felt like the world's biggest idiot for not realizing it sooner. He had the picture because it had been given to him, given to him by the person who had drawn it. The dark haired boy in the picture was himself, the taller, light haired one the artist, Scorpius Malfoy.

The only question was why he still had it, when he had gotten rid of everything relating to his school days as soon as he had graduated from Hogwarts. A hasty decision he now rather regretted, but the fact remained this picture had somehow escaped the purge.

Albus studied the artwork. Scorpius really had been an amazing artist. He wondered if Scorpius was still drawing, he hoped so; it would be a pity to waste such talent. The other boy had had many talents actually; schoolwork, especially Charms; Quidditch; hiding his emotions, though whether that was a good thing or not was open for debate.

It was funny; when Scorpius had left through the barrier into King's Cross Station before Albus had a chance to talk to him one last time he was sure that thoughts of the blonde would haunt him for the rest of his life. But they really hadn't. Not that he had forgotten about the former Slytherin, that would have been impossible, but life really had kept moving right along, and there simply hadn't been time to dwell on ex-boyfriends, even ones who had been as important as Scorpius.

But now Albus was curious. Where was Scorpius now? And what was he doing there? Did he have a job, or was he living off of the Malfoy family fortune? Did he have his own place, or was he still living at home. Albus was fairly sure that he hadn't gotten married, or whatever the gay equivalent to that was (Being bisexual and related to people active in politics I really should know that, he thought); Scorpius had done a surprisingly good job of staying out of the papers, but Albus doubted that the Malfoy heir would be able to settle down with anyone, especially someone of the same gender, without the Prophet snapping it up.

So Scorpius hadn't gotten married—or whatever—Was he seeing someone? Was it a long term relationship or a short term? And why did Albus care? He hadn't even seen the other man for nearly five years, didn't even know if they'd recognize each other if they did see each other.

After Albus had left Hogwarts his biggest fear was that he would run into Scorpius Malfoy again, and all of their unresolved past would sit between them like a great, fire-breathing dragon. After all, they hadn't exactly parted on excellent terms. The last time they had really talked had resulted in a big argument which culminated in the end of a two-and-a-half year relationship. A three year relationship if you included the time before they had started dating. It was a situation Albus could have handled much better than he had, he thought, cringing. He had said some things that day that he wasn't exactly proud of, and that he wasn't likely to forget any time soon. Not that Scorpius hadn't been in the wrong as well, but Albus certainly hadn't been as blameless as he had made himself out to be at the time. Painted himself as a bloody martyr almost. So it made sense that Albus hadn't wanted to face those demons again, and that Scorpius wouldn't have wanted to see him either no doubt.

But now he found that he wouldn't mind it so very much if he met the other man again. The past was the past, right? Obviously they couldn't pretend it had never happened, but that didn't mean it had to govern their entire lives. Albus spared a moment to imagine different scenarios in which they might finally see each other again: In some official meeting, visiting the park at night (well, at least Albus liked to do this, he didn't know if it would be Scorpius's cup of tea, he didn't know anything about the blonde anymore, for all Albus knew he could have dyed his hair brunette, though somehow he doubted it), on a summer weekend trip to Diagon Alley; many wizards took those, though more often the ones with children, at least in the late summer... Albus didn't know where Scorpius hung out these days, but Albus thought that maybe he'd start keeping an eye out for him, just in case. Whenever they did happen to meet again, Albus hoped that it would be as old friends, or at least not as old enemies.

Albus glanced at the clock and was surprised to find that it was nearly two in the morning. And Lily, Rose, and Hugo were coming at ten. He looked around the room. Good enough, he decided, kicking an empty box under the bed. It's not like they would expect him to keep a spotless house; he was a bachelor for Merlin's sake, not a bloody housewife.

Albus quickly showered and climbed into bed with his hair still wet. He knew this would cause his hair to stick up in the back even more than usual, but he had stopped fighting that battle a long time ago.

*****LA*****

Albus's alarm clock went off and he groaned, groping around for the snooze button before he remembered that he had disabled it over a year ago so that he would actually get up for work on time.

He sat up, shoved his glasses onto his nose, and checked the time: 9:45. He had fifteen minutes before Lily, Rose, and Hugo would be arriving. Plenty of time.

*****LA*****

Albus had just thrown his breakfast dishes in the sink and set them to washing themselves when the buzzer rang. Perfect timing. He buzzed them up and then hurried to open the flat's door.

"Hi!"

"Al!" said his sister, grinning and giving him a big hug. "How are you?"

The estrangement that had been between the two siblings during Albus's last year and a half at Hogwarts had vanished and they were now as close as ever. Albus grinned back at her; it had been far too long since he had seen his world-traveling little sister.

"I'm good," he replied, stepping aside to allow her and his cousins to enter. "How was Africa?"

"Amazing," said Lily, beaming. "It was so rewarding to help people in need. You should have seen the way some of those Muggles live, it was awful. But we helped them build some homes and schools and other things they really needed. Wizards have so many resources we can share with Muggles without revealing ourselves to them, but we so rarely do! I met some really interesting people too. I'm sorry I didn't write to you more often, but I was just so busy. I'll have to show you the pictures."

"Better set aside an entire day," said Hugo, earning himself a glare from Lily.

Albus smiled at his sister's enthusiasm. Though he missed her while she was away, he was glad that she had found something she was truly passionate about.

Rose looked around at the flat. "I see you've let the place go again."

"I cleaned it up for you!" protested Albus, scanning the room for signs of clutter he'd missed.

"Oh, we know you tried," said Lily indulgently. "But don't worry, we'll help you."

Albus and Hugo shared a look and a groan. They could already tell what was first on this afternoon's agenda: spring cleaning.

*****Song Lyrics*****

Will it be on Sixteenth Street or in the park?

Will it be in summertime or after dark?

Where do you hang out these days? I look around.

Sometimes I think I see your face, I look around.

Look around.

When will we meet again? It's been such a long time.

When will I see you my friend?

And will I still know you? Will you still know me?

Last time you saw me there was an argument.

I said some things on that day I can't forget.

Are you seeing someone new? I look around.

So often I think of you, I look around.

Look around.

When will we meet again? It's been such a long time.

When will I see you my friend?

And will I still know you? Will you still know me?

When will I see you again?

AN: Yes, there was indeed a 4 ½ year time skip there. You might not have been expecting that, but I was, hehe ;)

And the pictures make a reappearance!

And hopefully any important questions that came up in this chapter about the characters' lives will be addressed in the next one.

-SQ