Albus wasn't going to classes anymore. He wasn't really even sure why he was still at Hogwarts. Probably to stay close to Scorpius. Even if Scorpius didn't want him. Even if Scorpius was avoiding him…. Well…the Scorpius form of avoidance. He still sat with Albus at meals, just like everything was normal. But that was mostly the extent of it. Their conversations were forced, they walked too far away from one another in the hall, they didn't hold hands or share common room armchairs.
Between them, there were too many compacted emotions. With them there, they didn't know how to act like normal. It was like they were walking on eggshells around each other. Which was why, most days, Albus was out on the Quidditch pitch, avoiding the one person he loved most.
Since the anniversary memorial bullshit, Albus' fear of the pitch had almost dissipated. He almost found the serene quiet of the empty field comfortable. Or comforting. Something about the frozen, dead grass beneath his palms felt real and grounding. Like a nagging reminder that he was still alive.
Somehow, it reminded him of his childhood. Sweet early morning dreams interrupted by sharp pokes or ice water on his face. Stupid, silly pranks pulled by Lily-the-early-riser, spurred on by James-the-previous-victim giggling in the doorway. It was stupid, but sitting out there all alone in the cold made Albus feel the closest to his sister that he had ever been.
Once he coupled that feeling with drunken abandon, it was almost like she was still there. Like she was lying next to him under the clouded sun. For just a fleeting few minutes a day, when he was so inebriated the world felt like it was spinning, it almost felt like she was still alive. Like he could talk to her and she could listen. Like he could still hear her giggle in the far distance. Like he could blow her a kiss on the chilling wind and, per her usual style, she would pretend to be disgusted even as she held her cheek and savored the phantom feeling. All before he finally closed his eyes to the fatigue of sleepless nights, dreaming of a tearful yet joyous reunion.
A dream that was always too short and heartbreaking to wake up from. The bells in the clock tower would chime for dinner before he could really process the movement of time, and he would rise from the grass with tears drying on his cheeks. And, just like nothing was wrong, he would march back up to the castle and join Scorpius for another tense dinner.
They wouldn't speak about where Albus was all day. That's how he really knew Scorpius no longer cared. That's how he knew about the anger his friend must have been harboring somewhere deep inside. They had dreams to lead lives together after school. These were dreams from long before things became intimate. But day by day, Albus was ruining those dreams. He was shattering his chance at ever being on Scorpius' level, career-wise. Not that he might have had the chance, anyway. He was never as smart or as studious as him. Albus couldn't care less about his rank. All he'd ever cared about was Scorpius and being with Scorpius.
Now…he didn't know what to care about. It was pathetic, but he was lost without Scorpius. All this time, he'd been too preoccupied with having lost someone he had never taken the time to grow too close to. And, in the process, he'd actually probably lost the one person who meant the most to him.