Albus had never seen dark circles under his eyes the way he did the next morning. They looked like dark purple bruises above his cheekbones, and for a moment, he'd actually considered going to Madam Pomfrey with some lie to avoid having Scorpius see him like this.

Still, he sat in the Great Hall the next morning, an uneaten waffle in front of him and his second cup of coffee almost empty in his hand. His hair was a mess and his cheeks were sallow with exhaustion as he hunched over the table, gripping the mug for warmth. All the fires in the castle couldn't cure the chill that had settled into his bones.

He stared at the hulking double doors that lead to the hall, waiting. Scorpius would be along any minute now, and he hoped against hope that habit would take him right to his normal place at the center of the Slytherin table next to Albus since he'd been gone before Albus woke up.

He regretted everything - starting the fight, upsetting Scorpius, and questioning his feelings. Albus knew damn well how Scorpius felt about him - it was obvious in everything they did together from the way he made sure Albus ate well before a Quidditch match right down to the way he seized every opportunity to kiss him. It came through in the way he had run to Albus' side when he was hurt and refused to leave it.

Albus was just considering going to find Scorpius when he spotted the object of his affection coming through the doors, his head down.

Albus waited with baited breath, staring with wide eyes as Scorpius walked towards the Slytherin table, but stopped short when he looked up and saw Albus sitting there, waiting, with an extra mug of coffee sitting beside him. Albus looked longingly, and his lips parted to mouth 'I'm sorry,' but Scorpius turned away before he could, and walked back to the door, scanning the hall and turning down the center aisle.

The mug in Albus' hands iced over as he watched, helpless, and when he unknowingly lifted it to drink, it stuck to his lips.


"Do you think I could sit with you?"

Ainsley looked up from her copy of the Daily Prophet, startled.

"Of course," she said, tossing her bag to the ground to make room for Scorpius. "Is something wrong?"

"Got into a row with a friend," said Scorpius, swinging his leg over the bench. She raised her eyebrows as if his explanation was insufficient. "And broke up with someone. On the same day."

"I wasn't aware you were seeing anyone," said Ainsley.

"It wasn't really something we publicized," said Scorpius. He looked around the table, desolate. He couldn't remember the last time he poured his own coffee and the simple act of grabbing the canister hurt.

"No offense, but you look pretty rough," said Ainsley. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Scorpius furrowed his brow. Trust wasn't something he was capable of at the moment.

"No, I'll be okay," he said. "But I don't think I ever thanked you for staying with me that day after the Quidditch match."

His voice faltered. There it was again, the elephant sitting on his chest, and Albus' face in the hospital wing, smiling and reassuring him came into his mind, unbidden.

"Of course," said Ainsley, passing him a bowl of scrambled eggs. Scorpius shook his head. He wasn't hungry. "I know our families aren't close. I mean, I think I've met your father twice, but you're still family."

"Really?"

Scorpius hadn't wanted to sound surprised. He took a sip of his bitter black coffee. Searching for the cream amongst the clutter seemed like too much.

"Yeah," said Ainsley. Scorpius looked at her long and hard, looking past all the similarities between her face and his mother's. It was difficult - something in the Greengrass genes made all the women look similar. He'd noticed that years ago when he saw the family portraits.

"You look a lot like my mother," Scorpius admitted.

"You look a lot like her too," said Ainsley. "Which is to say, you also look like my mother."

She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"Everyone says I look just like my dad," said Scorpius.

"Well, you do. But there's a lot of your mom in there too."

"I take it you don't get along with your mother?"

"Oh, no," said Ainsley. "Especially not after she divorced my father and made me change my name back."

"Where is your father?"

"I have no idea," Ainsley confessed. "He doesn't come 'round, and I think mother intercepts his owls."

"That's horrible."

"She's horrible," said Ainsley. "When I go home for the summer, we don't even talk. We just kind of coexist."

"Well, I think you'd always be welcome to spend some time at the Malfoy Manor," said Scorpius. "As long as you don't mind echoing hallways and empty rooms. It's just me and my dad now."

I won't even have anyone to write to at Christmas, thought Scorpius, and he felt his face fall again.

"I'd like that," said Ainsley. She reached an uncertain hand out and placed it on Scorpius' back, reassuringly.

"What ever it is, Scorpius - it's going to be okay."

Scorpius gave her a sad smile. It wasn't going to be okay, but it was good to have some company in the emptiness.


Scorpius spent more time with Ainsley in the following days than he had ever spent with any member of his family, save for his parents. They exchanged stories from their childhoods, and for the first time, Scorpius realized how hard it must have been for his parents to take such a drastically different path from their families following the war.

"From what my mother said, your mum and dad took a very hard line about how you were going to be raised," said Ainsley one day as they made their way through the grand staircase. She leaned back against the railing as it moved. "And my parents just decided to go with tradition. Clearly, it didn't take, and thus I'm the black sheep."

"It goes with your black hair," said Scorpius with a short-lived smirk. Beyond her, he saw Albus on another staircase, and as they passed, their eyes met. Scorpius saw something in Albus' eyes the way he had years ago, in another reality, and when he turned away again it was like a knife in the gut.


After practice, Albus stayed in the locker room, knocking the mud from his boots and robes. He wasn't sure if practice had been rough or if he'd made it rough, because the closest he had gotten to forgetting Scorpius was when he was chasing the snitch and dodging bludgers, but his face wasn't far from Albus' mind. Every time he flew too close to the goal posts, he flinched and bit his own cheek to distract himself.

"Would have been better without the rain."

Albus looked over his shoulder as Maggie approached. She sat down on the bench beside him.

"What are you still doing out here?"

Maggie didn't answer his question.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Albus sighed. "No, not really."

"Tough. What happened?"

"We had a row," said Albus. "That's the long and short of it."

"Duncan says it's tense in the dorm with you two not speaking," said Maggie, picking the dirt from beneath her nails. "Says you don't come to bed until well after hours, and that Scorpius is always gone before the rest of you get up."

ยจDuncan should mind his own business," said Albus.

"They're just worried," said Maggie. "Nothing has ever broken up the great Malfoy/Potter team."

"I thought my name came first."

"No," said Maggie definitively. "But you're best friends. People have noticed you're not talking."

"Like I said," said Albus, "people should mind their own business."

"And so I will," said Maggie, standing. "Just let me know if you need to talk."

As she walked out, Albus placed both hands against his locker and bowed his head. He didn't know how to talk to anyone but Scorpius - he'd never had to learn how to.

"Maggie?"

She stopped at the door and turned to look at him. Albus glanced over at her, broken for the moment.

"Thanks for caring."

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "Any time."


Midterm exams began early, and Scorpius ticked off the days until he was done with his tests. By the time the last full weekend of the term came, he was more than halfway done, which was somewhat of a relief.

On Saturday morning, he stood at his desk, looking over his list of things left to do, and marked off what he no longer had to worry about. The other boys milled about behind him, and Scorpius tried his hardest to ignore them.

"Gryffindor's not as rough as Hufflepuff this year, but they're damn talented."

"My cousin's a beast on a broom," said Albus. The corner of Scorpius' mouth twitched.

"Well, at least she won't try to kill you, mate," said Pucey. "And if she does... well, I'll keep my wand out just in case."

Albus laughed, and it cut through Scorpius. He tucked the parchment back into his desk and it landed on top of the copy of Frankenstein he'd hidden from himself. He tried his hardest to ignore it, and pulled on his coat and scarf.

"You coming to the match? Pucey asked. It took Scorpius a moment to realize he was being spoken to.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm going with my cousin," he said. "We're going to Hogsmeade after."

"Sitting in the Hufflepuff stands," said Pucey, shaking his head in mockery. "Just because you and Albus are having a lover's spat doesn't mean you can't cheer for your house, you know."

Scorpius knew he didn't mean anything by it - it was a joke they'd often made over the years - but the way Albus stormed out of the room told him their Seeker didn't think it was funny.


By the time Scorpius joined Ainsley and her friends on their trek to Hogsmeade, he was exhausted. Watching Albus play had been hard enough after the incident, but watching him from the Hufflepuff stands where no one around him was too invested in the match was even worse. He was left to stare and watch and contain himself while Ainsley and her friends watched the game casually, talking about everything from the upcoming dance to what they were looking forward to in the spring.

"You need chocolate," said Ainsley as they walked up the street towards Honeydukes. She looped her arm through his and smiled at him. "And maybe a drink."

"Just some chocolate, thanks," said Scorpius. He saw the some of the Slytherin Quidditch team entering the Three Broomsticks. He didn't want to risk running into Albus. It had been stressful enough watching him play - he didn't want to let on that he'd been worried.

"Just chocolate, then," said Ainsley, opening the door. "My mother always said that sweets were the fastest way to make friends."

Scorpius had to stop for a moment inside to gather himself. The longer this day went on, the more chocolate he needed.


"You need a pick me up, my friend," said Flint, dragging him straight to the bar of the Three Broomsticks. They sidled up to the bar with Maggie, Farley, and Pucey in tow.

"Five meads," said Flint. The barmaid obliged, and before Farley could get their coats onto the nearby rack, there was a drink in Albus' hand. He didn't wait for the others to settle in, and took a deep gulp from the tankard.

"That's it," said Maggie encouragingly, taking a swig of her own.

"Hey, at least we won the game," said Farley.

"No thanks to me," said Flint.

"You were fine," said Albus. "If I'd caught the snitch the first time I saw it, we'd be back at the castle by now."

"Bah," said Maggie. "Back to the homework and revisions? No, thank you."

"Here here," said Flint, tapping her tankard in agreement.

Albus drained his and caught the barmaid's eye, tapping the bar for another.

"All right there?" Maggie asked, giving him a knowing look and letting her dirty hair down from its tangled knot atop her head. Flint cringed and started picking mud out of it. Farley rolled his eyes behind them and took a drink.

"Yup," said Albus. He'd finally gotten some sleep the night before, but found that it was easier to be exhausted and miserable than well-rested and miserable. Now he just had all this energy and awareness wrapped up in his desolation, and even when he found a few moments of distraction there was a sense that something was different and wrong hanging over him - a slowness in his chest when he breathed.

It was the emptiest kind of pain he'd ever felt, and it didn't help that he had Scorpius' voice echoing in his head -

I didn't much like my life without you in it either.

Fine.

And so he drank to dull the ache and to silence the echo. He drank until Maggie told him that maybe it was time to go back, but he insisted on just one more, and he drank until Pucey and Farley had to help him back to the castle.


Scorpius watched with raised eyebrows as Pucey, Farley, Flint, and Goyle stumbled into the common room with Albus somewhat suspended between them. He was laughing - kind of. It was a strange sound Scorpius had never heard before that fell somewhere between a chuckle and cry.

"You really can't hold your alcohol," said Farley, himself unsteady as he stumbled into one of the couches that was thankfully vacant. He reached out to one of the arms to steady himself.

Maggie laughed, her arms around Flint's waist. "Oh, cut him some slack. We wouldn't have won the -" she stopped to hiccup and laugh, "match without him today."

"Yes!" cried Pucey. Other occupants of the common room rolled their eyes. "Potter is back on his feet. Isn't it great, Malfoy?"

"Lovely," said Scorpius over the top of his book. He made the mistake of meeting Albus' eyes, and he didn't like what he saw there.

"Don't worry about him," Albus said to Flint, straightening himself, though he still swayed. "He wouldn't tell you if he was happy we won. Those Malfoys like their secrets."

Scorpius sighed and returned his attention to his book. He'd seen Albus like this once before after he'd failed a test, but Professor McGonagall had been the object of his ire then. Scorpius didn't like being on the other side of it.

Albus, clearly done with the conversation, stumbled out of the common room toward the dorms, and Scorpius resolved to wait an hour before going to bed to make sure Albus was done throwing up and was well asleep.

"He had a lot to drink," said Farley, apologetic.

"Don't make excuses for him," said Scorpius calmly, taking another piece of chocolate from the large box he'd been working on all afternoon. "You're all better than that."


Late that night, Scorpius woke up from a vague dream that left him uneasy. He stared up at the canopy above his bed for a long time, wondering how he'd been so happy just a month ago. He closed his eyes and allowed himself his one daily moment to remember one of those happy moments when he'd still been looking forward to Christmas break.

"Wait," said Albus. "After all that, Winston just gives in?" Scorpius closed the book and nodded sadly. "He and Julia go through all that, and he just gives in?" "Well, he was tortured," said Scorpius. He lay the book down and a large photo of George Orwell stared back at him. "I think it's kind of a better ending than the alternative. I think the only other logical ending would be for him to have been killed." Scorpius shivered as a bitter breeze blew in across the trees and into the Astronomy tower. Albus wrapped the blanket tighter around him. "I was good but... just so sad." "I don't think that could ever happen," confessed Scorpius. "Even in a world with no magic. The human spirit is too strong. Look what happened at the Battle of Hogwarts." "A lot of people died. A lot of good people." "And good people will always be willing to lay down their lives to stop the rise of evil," said Scorpius. "At least I hope they will be." Albus rested his head against Scorpius' shoulder. "I think you'd know," said Albus. "You're still the best person I know." Scorpius smiled and kissed the top of his head. "Should we go in? You're shivering," said Albus. "Just a few minutes more."

Scorpius shook the thought off and turned over in his bed only to be confronted with the sight of Albus curled up in his bed, his legs drawn up to his chest in the cold after he'd thrown the covers off.

Scorpius tried to ignore it, but the room was frigid, and he could see Albus shivering in his sleep. He sighed and climbed out of bed carefully. He didn't want to wake anyone up.

Cautiously, he reached over Albus and lifted the heavy comforter up, and carefully laid it over Albus' body.

"You deserved better," whispered Scorpius before turning back to his own bed, where he lay awake for a long time after.