Chapter 6: There's Nothing Wrong With It

~Albus~

"'Alchemy is the art of liberating parts of the Cosmos from temporal existence and achieving perfection which, for metals is gold, and for man, longevity, then immortality and, finally, redemption.'" Scorpius paused expectantly after his little spiel, giving his textbook a meaningful tap. "Darke Hierogliphicks is a modern classic, Al. It's basically law. You can't preach to me that Muggle science trounces such established interpretations."

I smothered a groan as half of our small class turned to glance towards Scorpius with a mixture of bemusement, curiosity and attentiveness. No matter how often I attempted to enforce upon Scorpius my desire for discretion in the classroom, he seemed adamant in conversing loud enough for the entire class to hear.

Keeping my voice low – because I knew how to speak unobtrusively – I affixed my gaze upon my parchment and tapped it with the end of my quill. "You can quote me Linden all day, Scor. I'm just acting the messenger. We're supposed to explore Muggle and Wizarding theory objectively, not explain why one is right over the other."

"But there is only one right."

Sliding further into my seat, I very pointedly ignored the half-dozen heads still turned towards us. After weeks of being openly friendly with Scorpius, I had to my surprise found myself verbalising my thoughts more, even when outside of the isolation of my little friendship group. Not intentionally, of course; it was more of a by-product of being around Scorpius. He simply had to talk, because Scorpius demanded answers with the slight tilt of his head, the pointed expression and the gradual rise of his pale, perfectly plucked eyebrow that only climber with each moment of extended silence.

I might not be particularly comfortable with it, but mumbling a reply was better than not saying anything at all. Besides, unexpected as it might be given how different we are, I really enjoyed spending time with Scorpius. Even in class when he became a studious, paranoid perfectionist.

Three weeks we'd been going through the paces of becoming 'friends'. All in all, it was quite surprising how quickly we four had fallen into companionability with one another. I think I was probably the most comfortable of all of us with Scorpius, even more than Ozzy was surprisingly, as he was largely acknowledged to be the most amiable of the three of us Original Outcasts. I don't know why that was. Maybe it was just that we shared Alchemy together just the two of us and as a result just spent that little bit more time together.

Though at the moment, I was sort of regretting that we shared the class. Scorpius was a very strong character and almost obsessively opinionated. And despite the fact that he preached that he was quite open to Muggle science and interpretations, he was insistent that in this instance, wizards were superior.

Glancing around at our half-attending peers, I lowered my voice further. Scorpius, I had come to realise, had remarkably good hearing which I made use of when attempting to maintain a semblance of the privacy I coveted. "Linden may be a classic, Scor, but Dubuis is realistically on the mark himself. 'Alchemy is the art of manipulating life, and consciousness in matter –'"

"'- to help it evolve, or to solve problems of inner disharmonies', yes I am aware of the quote," Scorpius nodded, waving a hand as though, familiar with said quote he was, my words were hardly worthy of consideration. "A happenstance that he came upon that reasoning; Dubuis probably had no idea what he was talking about."

"I don't know, Scor, he made the study of alchemy his life's work."

"Yes, but he completely overlooked the magical aspect of the study."

"That's because he's Muggle," I reminded him, because in his affront Scorpius seemed to overlook Dubuis being physically unable to engage in the magical lore of alchemy itself. "He literally can't use magic. His theories are still sound, though."

"They barely touch on half of the greater picture of alchemy," Scorpius professed with a condescending tilt of his head, widening his eyes meaningfully. "It's not all about spirituality. There's the physical side too, the transmutation, the recorded attempts at inducing immortality, and that's to say nothing of the Philosopher's Stone itself. Really, have you actually been paying attention to class these past four years?"

There wasn't really any sting to Scorpius' words, which is probably the only reason I refrained from clamping my lips shut and deliberately ignoring him for the short duration of the rest of our lesson. Scorpius hated being ignored, I'd found out quite by chance, and I felt no qualms about abusing such knowledge when he was being a prat. "Actually, I have been paying attention," sometimes, "and I'll have you know that the Philosopher's Stone is sort of close to heart; of course I know all about it." Well, mostly all about it.

Our combined classwork usually progressed in such a way. Scorpius was a very logical person, very systematic in his approach to his studies and swept like a broom through the dusty coating of knowledge that lay before him. He gathered everything, to the exclusion of nothing, and seemed to have little difficulty remembering just about all of it. My Dubuis quotation was about as far as I could stretch my memory by way of adequate retorts. Words weren't my forte, or at least not of the academic kind.

In contrast, I tended to pick out the bits that interested me and disregarded the rest. Rose frequently expressed horror at my approach; she was more similar to Scorpius in that she liked to know everything. I didn't do it on purpose, honestly. It's just that the interesting stuff sticks while the rest, especially in subjects like Transfiguration with theories that I'll never put into practice, just sort of slips away through the cracks.

I think Scorpius would have expressed equal horror to that of my cousin at my subconscious choosiness if not for the fact that he seemed to quite simply enjoy discussing to common subjects with me. We did share quite a few things in common, actually; he was a passionate potions advocate, even if only as a hobby, which naturally leant itself to segueing into Herbology. I wasn't all that bad at Potions myself, and found it sort of interesting, so I could actually contribute to those discussions.

Alchemy, however… I enjoyed it, I guess, but there was a lot of theory and speculation and not all that much transmutation, especially in later years. I don't know why I kept it up, really, except maybe the fact that Dad always said it was better to just plough on through my subjects and strive for as many N.E. as I could than to drop down to too few.

Easy for him to say. He hadn't even bloody well finished his seventh year, the tosser. Off saving the world and all that.

As such, while I might be scraping through with a passing grade for Alchemy, I could hardly stand up to the rigorous debate Scorpius threatened to launch us into. For all his intelligence and the wideness of his reading, Scorpius was prone to turning a blind eye in some cases, such as a Muggle's take on an admittedly magical subject. It was a product of his upbringing, I suspected, though would never say it aloud. Besides, it wasn't like there was anything all that wrong with such an upbringing. The Malfoys weren't that bad.

Thankfully for me, the class didn't last much longer. Even more thankfully, by the time the bell sounded all of our classmates had gone back to ignoring Scorpius and I. Easy enough, seeing as we always sat at the back of the classroom. Scorpius had objected at first when he'd initially suggested we sit together – working together came as a given with the suggestion – but it was something I firmly clung to. I didn't even want people to hear me, let alone look at me.

Packing our books away, Scorpius and I departed the classroom side by side. We'd fallen into the habit of spending more time together, usually with Ozzy and Rhali in tow, and it came almost naturally now. At first, the rest of the school seemed a little dumbfounded. It had nothing to do with our family names – or at least not everything to do with it – and was mostly due to the fact that Outstanding Prefect Scorpius Malfoy was hanging out with the wayward drifters of seventh year who, to unanimous confusion, didn't quite scrape the bottom of the class by way of grades. Rhali, Ozzy and I, we were the weirdos, the outcasts. People didn't bully us, or at least they hadn't since our fourth year, and they didn't comment on our oddity anymore. It was just accepted, like the fact that Tyril was bat-shit crazy and Killian puffed so many cigarettes that he reportedly plumed more smoke than the Hogwarts Express. People left us alone, not because we were hated – or at least I don't think so – but because our weirdness could potentially rub off upon innocent witnesses to that weirdness.

That Scorpius was publicly spending time with us, was talking to us, and that we, on increasing occasion, talked back, seemed to floor everyone for at least the first week or so. Lily had pulled me aside the first time I'd walked into the Entrance Hall between Scorpius and Ozzy, dragging me from my dinner and shunting me around the nearest corner.

"What? What the hell was that?"

"What the hell was what, Lily?"

Lily waved a hand behind her in a crazed gesture that made absolutely no meaning. And I'd know; I'm rather adept at interpreting strange hand-gestures from my early days of experimenting with Rhali. She's a bit flamboyant when she's excessively high.

"I mean that. You and Ozzy, walking with Scorpius Malfoy. What was that?"

I frowned, slightly put out by my sister's insinuation. Her wide blue eyes were even wider than usual, and she kept brushing at her tousled fringe in a way that only made it stick out worse than it usually did. "I still don't follow."

"Don't play dumb with me, Al. You and Scorpius are at about the opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to typical students. You guys actually looked friendly with one another."

"Maybe because we are."

"What, friends?" Impossibly, Lily's eyes widened further.

I scowled. "Is it so hard to believe that I might be friends with someone other than Rhali and Ozzy?"

Lily stared at me for a moment, incredulity wright across her face. Slowly she shook her head. "No, but it is unbelievable that it would be Scorpius bloody Malfoy."

"Why, because he's smart?"

"No, because he isn't a junkie!"

I cuffed my sister lightly over the head, eliciting an indignant mew. It wasn't so much her words that I objected to – yes, my sister is more than aware of my recreational activities, even if my parents still remain ignorant – but it annoyed me that she said them aloud. "Below the belt, Lil."

"Sorry,' Lily replied, and she actually sounded contrite. My little sister hadn't always been so forgiving; once upon a time, when she'd first discovered I was taking, she had blown a fuse. She declared she would "tell Mum and Dad everything" and then proceeded to give me the silent treatment for a month afterwards.

She hadn't told Mum and Dad – thank God – but it was left to me to patch up our relationship. I'd had to approach her, with the help of Rose who had already been informed of my habits and was particularly helpful in assisting me to drag my sister from Gryffindor Tower, and explain something that I'd kept very much to myself. Something that only Rhali, Ozzy, Rose and our sort-of-cousins Lorcan and Lysander were privy to. Though in saying that, I'm pretty sure the Scamander twins didn't hear half of what I said when I told them; the didn't engage in any form of drug use, but I wouldn't be the first and definitely not the last to suspect they maintained a state of permanent drug-induced mellowness. They were just that vague.

Lily had quietened when I told her how I'd begun using. How I had a nervous breakdown in first year, and Ozzy had approached me and offered me some of his mum's anxiety medication. How, even though I'd known it was stupid and dangerous, and that I'd barely known Ozzy at the time to trust anything that he gave me, I'd taken it. And I'd never regretted it, not once.

I told Lily of how I'd sought other methods of calming myself down with herbs, with potions, with drugs, because my first few months at Hogwarts had been a hell purely within my own mind and I was drowning in my attempt to swim through it. How Rhali, the weird Slytherin girl who seemed to have no friends either, had caught me outside one day with Ozzy having a panic attack and told me about some of the almost-illegal calming plants that Neville's kept hidden in his personal greenhouses.

And how it had simply accelerated from there in the pursuit of happiness and relief.

Lily had been quiet after I'd told her, her face blank. At first I wasn't sure if she was angrier with me than she had been before – it's sometimes hard to tell with Lily; she's got an incredible poker face when she doesn't force it – but after a few moments her brow had furrowed, she'd caught her lip between her teeth, and she'd wrapped me in a hug. She'd asked if there was anything she could do. I said no. She'd suggested I tell mum and dad, that I seek professional help. I'd definitely said no. I'd developed a good thing for handling my problems by that point and was actually happy with where I was mentally at that stage. Besides, I'd been using for three years at that point and wasn't inclined to stop any time soon.

It had taken a bit, but eventually Lily had accepted my habit. She, along with Rose, always kept an eye on me, though. I could almost feel them watching me from the Gryffindor table sometimes. I'm pretty sure they've reached some sort of agreement between the two of them, though they never approached me as a united front. The wording of their repeated cautioning in prepared speeches that I "be safe" and "don't let it get out of hand" were too similar for them not to have shared their thoughts.

It hadn't gotten out of hand. It had been my crutch. And generally it had worked splendidly to calm my nerves. Seventh year seemed like it might test the limits of how much calming magic could do – I might preach nonchalance towards my schoolwork, but I'm not that bad; I really would like to pass my units – and I was already blessing the inclination that drove me towards using my Harproot and Happy Gum for what it had afforded me so far.

So Lily knew that her jibe about Scorpius and my junkie status, however offhanded and accurate it may be, was a little cruel. I didn't make her feel ashamed on purpose, but I can't deny it wasn't helpful. At least her incredulity over the friendship seemed to extinguish after that.

I didn't want to leave it how it was, though. A nosy little snot my sister may be, but I do love her. "Is it really that unbelievable?"

Quirking her lips, Lily slowly nodded. "Everyone at the Gryffindor table was shocked. That's Scorpius."

"Is it a problem? Is it really that weird?"

I must have sounded slightly worried or something because Lily hastened to reassure me. "No, no it's not a problem. It might be a little weird, true, but not a problem. Al, you're –" She broke off, chewing on her lip in her usual gesture of thoughtfulness. "Look, don't think about what other people say about you –"

"I'm not, really."

'- because you're allowed to be friends with whoever you like –"

"Yeah, I know. It doesn't really bother me."

"- and if you and Scorpius and Rhali and Ozzy have a good thing going, then who are they to judge?"

"Again, not an issue. I don't care all that much." I waved my fingers before Lily's eyes to get her attention long enough for her to actually listen to me. "Scor and I are friends, same as with Rhali and Ozzy. It's no one else's business but ours."

Lily smiled approvingly, an expression eerily similar to that of a proud mother rather than the chiding sister she should be. A moment later, however, her expression became amused. "Scor?"

Cringing, I scratched at the back of my head awkwardly. "Shut up."

"No, seriously, Scor?"

I heaved a long-suffering sigh. There was no escaping an explanation. "Well I had to call him something, right? Scorpius just sounds so pretentious."

"And our Ravenclaw prefect doesn't have a problem with this?" Lily's was obviously fighting back the urge to spread an evil grin.

"Not anymore," I replied. Because he'd initially objected to what he deemed the 'childishness' of the name Scor. It was Rhali, of course, who had set him straight.

"You need a nickname anyway, Scor. We all have them." Ignoring, of course, the fact that she lacked once herself. But then, no one argued with Rhali if they wanted to come out the other side in one piece.

Scorpius had glanced towards me. "Al," he'd said, very pointedly. I wasn't entirely sure if he was requesting my intervention or simply attempting to divert the conversation.

Rhali ignored either possibility. She raised her eyebrows at Scorpius, as though questioning his potential objection. "Don't push me on this subject, Scor. I'll make your life a living hell."

Poor Scorpius had actually looked a little intimidated by Rhali's finality. The memory still made me smile, something that I had to struggle to contain in the face of Lily's amusement.

"Don't you dare say anything, Lily. I'm serious."

"Or what, are you going to tell me off? You're not a prefect?" Lily's eyebrows danced with her taunt.

"No, I'm not," I agreed. "But Scor is, and he's absolutely no-nonsense with younger students. I'm pretty sure he'd whoop your arse for calling him anything by Scorpius or Malfoy."

"He could try," Lily laughed, but for all her teasing, weeks later and she still hadn't tested the waters. Nor said anything more on the subject, for that matter. For someone who loved to gossip, I am blessed that my sister demonstrates a modicum of intelligence and knows when she really needs to keep her mouth quiet.

From Alchemy, Scorpius and I wandered in the general direction of the Great Hall. Because of the small size of our class, we have our face-to-face lessons just before dinner, outside of school hours. I don't mind all that much; at least it's not first thing in the morning.

Just before we parted at the front door – because yes, we might be friends, and the houses at Hogwarts might be fairly fluid, but even Rhali, Ozzy and I have never sat at the same table. We just don't do that sort of thing – Scorpius nudged my shoulder with his own. "Do you have plans for after dinner?"

I paused in step, glancing towards him. "What, you mean other than lying in bed and staring listlessly at the ceiling in an attempt to recover from the onorous burden of attending class?"

Scorpius attempted disapproval but the smile he obviously fought to keep off his face was a bit of a giveaway. "Yes, other than the listless staring."

I pretended to consider for a moment. "No, I think I'm all free. Why?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to head to the library to go over our Potions homework."

I pulled a face. "Homework? Urgh, no thank you."

"Have you already done it?"

I snorted. "Who are you confusing me with, exactly? Of course not. I have better things to do with my time." Like staring at the ceiling in my dorm and counting the cracks on the ceiling.

Scorpius didn't take offence at my words. In fact, he appeared to take them as an invitation more than anything else. "Better things, I'm sure. How exactly have you survived in school for as long as you have?"

"It's a closely kept secret, Scor. I can't reveal my sources."

It was Scorpius' turn to snort. "Sources. Right. But secrets or not, care to join me? I asked Rhali and she said she might if she could be bothered, but I haven't seen Oscar."

"Ozzy," I corrected absently, because Ozzy hated being called Oscar, as I considered. I could decline, but I am in seventh year and should probably at least pretend to make an effort. It would make Mum happy. "Okay, sure. I've just got to grab my books from the Basement after dinner and I'll catch you up."

"Great," Scorpius replied, satisfied. "I'll meet you there." It was worth the hours of study just to see the delighted expression on Scorpius' face before he strode into the Great Hall. He was smiling more and more often now; I don't know if it's a product of spending time with us, or my the increased exposure to him just affords me more opportunity to see him when he's in a visibly good mood, but it was good to see.

A quick, silent dinner – meatloaf and potato, which basically meant I ate a potato in a jacket by itself – and I quickly departed the Great Hall to head for the Basement. Passing into the atrium, it was almost too perfect that I ran straight into Ozzy coming through the front doors of the castle. Night was just setting in, an icy draft chasing him inside.

"Oh. Hey, Al." Ozzy offered with a smile.

Running my eyes up and down his height, and the heavily rugged up arrangement of his garb, I raised an eyebrow. "What were you doing outside so late?"

"You don't have to look so suspicious," Ozzy grumbled, though the way he shifted from foot to foot suggested he was actively trying to avoid the question. "I'm not doing anything incriminating."

I glanced pointedly over his shoulder as the doors clicked shut behind him. "It's nearly pitch black outside, Ozzy. If anything's suspicious it's you."

Sighing, Ozzy shrugged. He dropped his eyes to his shoes. "It's nothing huge. I'm just…"

"Just?"

Shuffling once more, Ozzy peered up at me, head still tilted downwards. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Would I laugh at you?"

"Yes."

"True. So really I can't promise anything. But tell me anyway."

Grumbling his disgruntlement, Ozzy seemed to consider my offer for a moment before sighing once more. "You remember how I said I could be an athlete? Or maybe just get into hiking or something?"

I frowned, because I couldn't recall… Oh wait, that was when we were on the Happy Gum a couple of weeks ago. "Yeah. And?"

"And I thought that maybe I'd give it a go."

"What, become an athlete."

"Yeah. Well, no. Maybe. I don't know, I'm just…" He looked terribly awkward as he shifted from foot to foot and I couldn't help but pity him. "I've just started taking up jogging."

I felt my face stiffen in surprise. "You? You're jogging?"

"Is it really so surprising?"

"I'm not surprised," I lied. "It's just unexpected."

Ozzy shifted uncomfortably once more. "Look, it's nothing serious or anything. It's not like I'm going to become a world famous athlete or anything."

"You're nowhere near competitive enough," I agreed.

"Yeah, there is that. It's just…" Ozzy seemed to be nearly writhing in his skin in discomfort, unusual in itself given that he was usually the most relaxed and laid-back of himself, Rhali and I. "I don't know, I just sort of started doing it. Ever since the thought first occurred to me I pretty much go once a day. And I mean, I'm feeling weirdly motivated, you know?"

Any scepticism on my part rapidly disappeared with Ozzy's words. He felt motivated. Well, that eradicated any further objections as to the strangeness on my part. Ozzy had a way about him, a further oddity of his character that I thought was incredibly intriguing. Easy-going though he may be, when Ozzy set his sights upon something he was dedicated. Like becoming my friend; I don't know why he wanted to be so badly in the first place – we were both loners in our first year, but really, there wasn't any other reason that I could see – but in later years he'd told me that he had just wanted to be my friend and wouldn't take no for an answer.

That was just how Ozzy was. He stuck to his resolutions. He was fiercely protective of his mum to the point that he made it his mission to deter dubious-looking boyfriends from snapping her up for the possibility that they might be assholes. When Rhali expressed a desire to undertake a Muggle arithmetic's short-course over the summer after fifth year, he'd been her most avid supporter and had helped to convinced her parents it was a good idea. I still don't know how he managed that. He'd even convinced himself that his best subject was Transfiguration – it's not; he's heaps better at Muggle Studies and Astronomy – but he'd told himself enough times and set himself upon a course for bettering his marks that he'd actually brought them all on par with his better subjects. He'd completely neglected his other subjects, of course, but in fourth year the professors for those three subjects had been really impressed with him. I often wondered how much our experimentation with Muggle drugs that year had to do with his decisiveness.

So if Ozzy told me that he felt "weirdly motivated" to exercise – why, I'll never know – or even to become an Olympic athlete, I wouldn't have put it past him be running for England in a couple of years time. He's just like that.

"Oh, cool. So you've started running now?" I didn't know the why's of his decision, but it was obviously important to him, and I could accept it easily enough because of that.

Ozzy appeared a little cautious at the readiness of my acceptance. He cocked his head and regarded me with a raised eyebrow. "What, no teasing?"

I crossed my arms across my chest. "I'm insulted that you'd think so little of me, Ozzy."

"I'm just basing my suspicions upon precedence."

"Ouch, that hurts! You know I'd support you in any decision you made."

Ozzy laughed. It was a bit of a relief, really. His wariness was starting to worry me, though upon consideration I supposed it was probably an indicator of how much his decision meant to him. Stepping up beside me, Ozzy wrapped an arm around my neck in a friendly hug. "Thanks, Al. That means a lot."

Ozzy and I have always been sort of touchy-feely. I don't know when it started, but more often than not, when we sat beside one another it would be to lean more against one another's shoulder than the seat itself. Ozzy frequently had an arm slung around my neck when we were in the privacy of our Niche. It just felt natural.

Maybe we were both just a bit starved for contact or something. Rhali doesn't like hugs. At all. The one time Ozzy – and I'm so glad it was Ozzy that tried first – had attempted an embrace, she'd decked him. He'd had a really impressive black eye that didn't fade for a week, even with excessive use of Bruise-Away Salve. And that had been only a simple embrace offered as a thank you for his Christmas present.

Neither of us ever tried it again. She was a toothpick, Rhali, but there was a disconcerting force behind her right hook that left us both a little in awe. Rhali had announced, upon discussion, that we should be intimidated; hugs made her feel claustrophobic, apparently, and she wasn't above scratching the eyeballs out of anyone who attempted to trap her in one. She hadn't done so as of yet, but I firmly believed her capable when she declared herself capable of as much.

"So you were running just now?" I asked again, letting Ozzy lean on me. He certainly smelt like he'd been running. How did someone even run in such a heavy jacket? Even in the near winter.

"Yeah, for about an hour or so."

"And you've been doing this for weeks?"

"Yep."

"Huh." I tilted my head thoughtfully. "Well, whatever floats your boat."

Ozzy gave me another grin. "Are you heading into dinner?"

"Just leaving, actually. I'm going to go to the library to study after I grab my books."

"You? Studying?" Ozzy sounded like I'd just declared I was going to take up a broom and try out for the quidditch team; completely irrational and slightly dangerous.

I sighed in exaggerated sorrow. "Scor's having a bad influence on me."

"You're studying with Scor?"

"Yeah, he wanted to get his Potions homework done and asked if I'd join him."

"Just the two of you?"

I shook my head. "Rhali's coming too. Scor said he was going to ask you but didn't know where you were. Want to join?"

Ozzy sucked a tooth thoughtfully. He looked almost pained at the prospect of homework. "Ah…"

"You don't have to, you know. Don't strain yourself or anything."

"No, I probably should." He sounded regretful despite his concession.

"I still don't know why you kept up Potions for your N.E. ."

"For the same reason Rhali did," Ozzy replied absently.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

Ozzy shrugged. "'Cause you do." At my obvious confusion, he clarified. "We were worried you'd fall into a cauldron and drown yourself. When you decided to keep the subject, we could hardly abandon you."

I frowned indignantly up at the fond grin he turned upon me. "Hey, I'm not that bad at potions. Yeong sometimes even says I have potential."

Ozzy smirked, jiggling me slightly with his hugging arm in a gesture of comforting commiseration. "You keep telling yourself that, Al. We made the decision right after we brewed that Draught of Volatility. You nearly gave me a heart attack when you exploded your cauldron, you realise, don't you?"

I cringed guiltily. Fifth year Draught of Volatility; not one of my finest moments. "I hardly did it on purpose."

"Doesn't matter. It still scared the shit out of me." The sound of approaching voices from the Great Hall silenced Ozzy, causing him to abruptly drop his arm from my shoulders and turn to glance warily towards the half-opened doors. When the two third year girls filed through and proceeded to depart from earshot, he continued. "I'm gonna to go and grab something for dinner. I'll meet you in the library?"

"Yeah, sure. See you." I offered him a wave as I turned towards the Basement.

Gathering my books from my dorm, I paused only to consider my parrot throwing cusses at my back before scooping him from his cage and departing once more. He'd been a bit neglected over the past few weeks; I might pretend to be a slacker with my schoolwork and it might not be entirely irrational to consider as much, but I actually do try to learn. Most of the time, anyway.

To the music of Caesar's "hello, lovely" and "so gorgeous, cretin, you're so gorgeous," I made my way through hallways and into the library. It's a dodging act to weave between towering shelves and animated books as the sought their proper placement, but after six years I think I'm rather practiced at it. I kept an eye out as I wove; it was always a bit of a game of hide and seek, the search for where Scorpius' had secreted himself, but I figured if I couldn't find him then my entrance would be indicated by Caesar's chattering. Madame Knuckleston had initially frowned upon the attendance of my little broken record into her library, but upon being introduced to his tendency to offer kisses to the fingers of anyone who chanced to present him their hand she had become enamoured.

Rhali and Scorpius were already spread across two tables in the far corner of the library, books propped open and quills in hand. Although, I noted, Scorpius was scribbling at a decidedly faster pace than Rhali. For her part, Rhali appeared more interested in picking gunk out of the nib of her quill.

"Hello, little cretin, watcha lookin' at?" Caesar greeted them both, punctuating his query with a wolf whistle. It served to attract both Scorpius and Rhali's attention, he staring blankly while she grinned widely.

"Hello, gorgeous, how are you? Has Ally been keeping you all to himself, locked in his room?" Rising to her feet and holding out a hand, Caesar hesitated only a moment before sidling onto Rhali's finger. He glanced at me almost questioningly as though unsure of whether he should be leaving my shoulder, but I just nudged him towards her. Rhali cradled him against her chest before offering him her own shoulder. For someone who hates physical contact, she's really quite affectionate and snuggly with the bird.

"You brought your parrot?" Scorpius asked dubiously, as though the question needed clarification.

I settled into the chair beside him and begun pulling my books from my bag. "He was cursing at me when I was leaving the dorm. How could I leave him?"

"And his name's 'Caesar', not 'parrot'," Rhali added pointedly. She'd gotten over her initial aversive wariness around Scorpius that had, so I had interpreted from Scorpius, appeared more than a little threatening and bordering on hatred. But in saying that, Rhali would always be Caesar's knight in shining armour; she'd jump to his defence in a heartbeat.

Scorpius, for his part, always seemed uneasy around the parrot. I suspected it had more to do with his complete lack of understanding about how to respond to his presence than any particular dislike or anything. "Regardless, I fail to see how he could assist our homework."

I shrugged, falling into a spare seat beside Scorpius and turning my bag upside down to shake out an ink bottle. I received three, two of which tumbled to the floor with little glass clinks. Please don't be broken. "He's our moral support. Our mascot," I replied as I ducked under the table to retrieve the little phials.

"I would have thought you'd be kindred spirits you two, Scorpius, what with him sharing the name of a blabbermouth similar to yourself." Even without seeing her face, I knew Rhali was smirking.

Surfacing and reseating myself, I saw that Rhali appeared to have abandoned her homework and nib-cleaning in favour of raining attention onto Caesar and jabbing Scorpius with barbed remarks. Caesar looked like he was quite enjoying himself, though always kept an eye on me. I'm not being cocky when I say that I'm his favourite person. He's a parrot, of course he has a favourite. He just likes me most because I happen to spend the most time with him. And feed him sunflower seeds when I'm not supposed to.

Scorpius didn't even respond to the teasing insult. "I thought you said he wasn't named for the Roman orator."

"He's not," I confirmed. "He's named after the salad."

"He liked the chicken bits the most*," Rhali added. "Obviously he was a predator in a past life."

Scorpius' forehead crinkled in a slightly uneasy frown. "Right," he said slowly, and made a deliberate turn back towards his homework to began scribbling once more. Though scribbling is hardly the word I'd use to describe Scorpius' handwriting. It looked almost calligraphic. I've never had a problem with my own writing but next to his mine looks like a spider fell into my inkwell and dragged its half-drowned body across the parchment in an attempt to compose its dying words.

I briefly glanced over at Scorpius' work as I dipped my quill into ink and frowned. He was annotating a potion's recipe. "That's not our homework due Friday."

"No," Scorpius replied distractedly. "I'm finished."

"Do we have something else I'm forgetting about?"

"No," Scorpius repeated. "I'm just taking notes on some additional readings I'm doing."

I peered at him sidelong for a moment before nodding acceptance and turning towards my own work. Rhali snorted and muttered a very audible "nerd" beneath her breath before once more turning her full attention to scratching Caesar's neck. I tend to agree, though apparently idn't hold quite the same negative connotations to the term that Rhali did.

Scorpius loved potions. It was as simple and as complex as that. He loved it with a passion, loved mixing ingredients to produce an end product, loved the finesse of accurate weighing and measuring, the therapeutic motions of crushing and grinding. I know this because he'd told me. At length and several times, too. He would live and breathe potions if he could, I'd wager.

Which is why it was similarly complicated. I hadn't grasped the full meaning of the discussion with Yeong when I'd overheard in the dungeons all those weeks ago. Scorpius loved potions, but he wasn't pursuing a career in Potioneering, nor anything even remotely related to the art. Instead, he had set himself on a course headed into the ministry, into politics and business, into oration and presentation and building advantageous connections for his Dad's company. And he did this because he was supposed to.

It left me with a slightly painful twinge in my chest at the thought, and, as I scribbled down answers to the questions pertaining to the wide and varied distribution and properties of magical minerals in south-east Asia, I couldn't help casting a sympathetic glance towards the newest of my friends. Empathetic, really, because I saw a little of my own situation in that which he'd evidently fallen into. Because yes, while the modern Wizarding world promoted autonomy and 'pursing the life that truly suits you', the Malfoy's were as much confined to societal expectations as my own family was. However, while I had once felt obliged to follow in Dad's footsteps and become an Auror, protector of Wizarding society, or an idol on the quidditch pitch like Mum, Scorpius was pushed towards the life of an upstanding wizard of old blood, to pursue the respectable and noteworthy position of a business master.

The biggest difference between us was that while I'd diverged from the path set before me and already largely broken astray from the speculations and underhanded suggestions that I 'get back on track' by the media, Scorpius was still held in the grips of them. It saddened me, really, to see my friend feeling like he was being forced into a career he neither loved nor wanted to love.

Not to mention the fact that he'd apparently completely turned aside from his love of potions, even as a hobby. Besides the wistful references to how he 'used to' love potions, descriptions of exactly what he 'had loved' about Potioneering, and the silent yet studious 'extra readings' he undertook, he'd divided himself from his passion.

Maybe it was just easier that way, to make a clean break than to have the painful reminder hanging over him the whole time.

"What's wrong? Do you need help with something?"

I glanced towards Scorpius once more, blinking at the suggestion. It was only then that I'd realised I hadn't written a word in about five minutes. "Oh, um… no, I'm fine."

Scorpius stared at me for a moment, then nodded. "Well, if you need it, just let me know, alright?"

I offered him a smile, which he absently returned, and nodded. That was another thing I'd found about my newfound friendship with Scorpius. Initially, he had been almost obsessive about encouraging Rhali, Ozzy and I into further studiousness. I could see it almost pained him to watch us whinge and bemoan our way through half-heartedly completing the homework that held little interest to us. He'd tried – really tried – for about a week until Rhali had snapped.

"Listen here, Malfoy. If you have a problem with my work ethic, or with any of our work ethics, you can bugger off. In case you haven't noticed, we've all done just fine with our grades up until now. If you want to be our friend, that's great, but don't try and force your own priorities upon us, alright?"

Scorpius had looked suitably cowed by her rant. I couldn't blame him; I almost felt in the wrong as I sat beside Scorpius merely because the general direction of her tirade washed over me before it crashed atop him. And that was with the fact that she'd actually been defending me.

It worked, though, and Scorpius appeared to have dropped any attempt at forcing his 'help' and 'perfectionist tendencies' upon us, as Rhali called them. At least at first he'd seemed to physically struggle with the effort to restrain his objections when myself, or Rhali, or Ozzy had openly resisted working and claiming we would do it later. He'd gotten better, though, less concerned or at least more adept at hiding that concern. I only occasionally caught him glancing at me a little despairingly now.

Yet even with that, he still offered help when we needed it, and other than Rhali – stubborn as she was – we accepted it. There was no denying that Scorpius was a better student than the other three of us put together – I honestly don't know how he put up with 'studying' with us; we were just as likely to doodle over the pages or fall asleep over our books as finish any work – and even Rhali had shown her own recognition by copying off mine and Ozzy's work that which we'd essentially copied off Scorpius. A backhanded compliment, to be true, but I think Scorpius recognised it anyway.

Ozzy joined us soon after, wedging himself into the seat beside Rhali and me and pulling out his own books. There wasn't a huge amount of conversation – I think the silent inclination of Scorpius rubbed off on the rest of us – but it was still companionable. We actually got all of the work we'd intended to do completed for a change, a change that was becoming more and more frequent of late.

Scorpius spent most of the evening with his 'extra readings' and I couldn't help but watch him a little out of the corner of my eye, even when Ozzy elbowed me to urge me from my sidelong staring. Was I really that obvious? But even if I was, I couldn't help myself. He didn't smile while reading or anything, but there was something about Scorpius' expression when he studied potions that made me feel warm and oddly happy. It was a gorgeous expression, one that only accentuated the fine lines of his face, the straightness of his nose, the hard set of his jaw and the curve of his lips. He sort of reminded me a bit of Mitch, my first boyfriend of sorts. Maybe that was what I found so attractive about him.

But admittedly a bit smitten as I was, watching him also saddened me just a little. I truly wished he would revise his commitment for abandoning his passion for potions. If I could have determined a way to redirect him, to assure him that no matter what anyone said he was allowed to do what he loved as well as work for his career then I would have.

But it didn't feel like my place. Friends though I now thought we were, I just wasn't sure I could take than step. Maybe in future, but for now… It was satisfying just to watch him so happy, even if it was only an accidental happiness.

Because just to see him smile, even if just a little smile, was enough. I found that I really, really liked it when Scorpius smiled.

A/N: A bit of a slow chapter, I'm sorry. But it will certainly pick up pace in the next chapter, I swear. I've written the draft for the chapter and all, so it shouldn't be far off.

And also, just if anyone's interested, my reference to chicken-eating parrots is actually based on first adopted my own parrot when we found him in the middle of a very public leisure centre digging into a discarded piece of chicken. The cannibal! But yes, it does happen.

If you have any comments, questions, suggestions or criticisms, please let me know. I'd love to hear what you think of it :)