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Chapter Seventeen

When Scorpius got the the dungeons, Albus was, thankfully, asleep. He really didn't feel like having another fallout with the boy. Under no circumstances would he be able to see Potter and not want to kill him. It was just what came with being with Rose; a strong loathing of Albus. He may or may not come around, Scorpius didn't really give a shit.

Albus's snoring drowned out the rest of his thoughts. More than once he'd hopped out of bed with a pillow, seriously considering suffocating him. It took him a while before he talked himself out of it, and he got back into bed. Over and over he tried to think of what to say at the party. Good evening! Just wanted to say that me and Rose are dating. That is all, good night. Or maybe, She's my woman and if you don't like it... well you can go fuck off. YES, I'm talking to YOU dad and Mr. Weasley! He wasn't so sure those would go over too well.

He'd be happy when him and Rose could go on without worrying what other people thought, and without being nervous about their announcement. It shouldn't even be that big of a deal! It's not like they were announcing Rose's pregnancy or something. No, that was far off. Like, five years. If they even stayed together that long.

...

He shouldn't think shit like that, of course they'd be together that long! He was sure that he'd never want to be without her, but he might mess something up. He was good at that. Or she might get sick of his shit, which wasn't too far-fetched. Look at him, needing reassurance like some five-year-old. Pft.

And then there was how he felt about her. Loathing turned to acceptance, acceptance turned to like, like turned to adoration and now his adoration had become... love? It felt like it was never going to end. He used to never feel anything but lust towards girls. He'd never adored anyone, let alone love them. Love was stupid, love was... not real. Couldn't be proven save for the clammy hands and fast beating heart... the ignoring of flaws, the exaggeration of all things good about them. Thinking that noone could ever make you happy like they could. Worrying about her, all the time, wondering if she felt the same. Taking much longer to do damn near everything in an attempt to seem perfect to them... being hurt so easliy by things that you used to laugh at.

He was like a little girl. In all honesty, he could probably use a little beating from Albus at the moment. Might do him some good.

When would he tell her, if ever? He wasn't even sure if he really loved her. If only there was a book, that explained it; all the symptoms of beig in love. Was thinking about them all the time another symptom? Most likely. Love is like a disease. One that he felt like he'd never recover from.

Eventually it occured to him that he wasn't going to be getting any sleep anytime soon. What with Albus's steady snoring session and his raging thoughts. Scorpius let his owl out of its cage, scribbled a quick letter to Rose, and sent it off. Hopefully she was up.

Has your cousin always made so much noise when he sleeps?

It wasn't long before she wrote back. He felt his stomach flutter in anticipation, like it always did when he got a letter from her... or when she was around. He felt funny whenever she was involved. In the good way, of course

Yeah, I believe he has. It comes with him being a natural nerdy little pest. Even when he's unconsious he has to be getting on someone's very last nerve... you aren't asleep yet, love?

He could just see her when she wrote him back, biting her lip in that adorable way of hers, smiling when she wrote something clever...

Ah, well that explains it. I thought he must have some defective genes. And no, I'm not. I was just thinking. And you're up, too.

Once he'd sent it, Albus made an exceptionally loud and annoying sound, and Scorpius pitched his pillow straight at the boy's bed.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, waking with a start. Then there was THUD, and Scorpius barely supressed his laughter. It took a minute, but by the time the letter came Albus was back to snoring again.

Yeah, he got all the bad genes from his parents. Where as I got all the good genes from my parents... can't you tell? I'm doing the same thing... thinking about what?

Scorpius was terribly uncomfortable without his pillow. As soon as he wrote Rose back he'd try and get it back.

I can most definitely tell. I could go on and on, sounding much like my father in the process, and say how all Potter genes are bad genes. But I won't. About you. What else is there to think about?

Scorpius grabbed his wand off the side table and whispered, "Accio pillow."

The pillow lifter slightly but Albus's arms were wrapped tightly around it. "Bloody Potter." he murmered, saying the spell again, to no avail. He gave up for a moment to read Rose's reply.

Actually, that's a fight I'd like to witness between you and Albus. Which one of your families have the best genes. From what I hear, your dad was quite the looker, and mum says Uncle Harry wasn't too shabby either. And you might be thinking about... school things. Or about your undying love for Albus. I don't know.

'Undying love'?! Ha! Rose could be funny when she felt like it. "Accio pillow! Accio pillow! Accio, accio, acci- OH"

Random objects around the room, came flying towards Scorpius. Including several books and his jar of ink. "Bugger." he said, and after performing a simple cleaning spell wrote her back.

Oh I'm sure we'll have the fight sooner rather than later. I say my family is better looking just because... well, just because. Who doesn't like stunning pale features? Ew, my dad a looker? Well, I guess if he looked like I do now... it makes sense. I pray i never look like him. Please, dear buddah have mercy on my face. Rosie, excuse me while I retrieve my valuable possesions from my secret lover. I'll see you tomorrow, darling. Good night. At least try to sleep.

Scorpius sent off his letter, and climbed out of bed. He walked quietly over to Albus's bed, and rubed his hands together before getting a grip on the pillow. He pulled hard, and smacked him on the face a couple times, but he wouldn't let go. "Bloody hell Potter, I just want my pillow!"

He put one foot up on the bed and tugged on the down filled bag. That's all it is, really. A down filled bag. "No!" Albus yelled, and he turned over in him bed, pulling Scorpius in the bed with him.

"Son of a bitch give me back my pillow you loon!"

"NO!" Albus yelled, louder than before. He started swinging the pillow around, smacking Scorpius several times in the head.

"That's it, Potter." he said, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel. "You're going down."