"So. I finally-finally-did it. Albus? Al?"

Reluctantly, Albus looked up from his Potions homework. Scorpius was breathless and flushed, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed, long silver strands of hair swept all over the place.

The library was almost deserted now and Albus hadn't a clue where Scorpius had been. It was unlike him to skip out on their nightly sessions; they had a deal-each would help the other with their homework with the endgoal being good enough grades to study together in Romania. But Scorpius was clearly focused on something more important right now.

Albus had a feeling he knew exactly what.

"Finally did what?" Albus queried, sounding bored. "Where have you been anyway, you look all sweaty." He didn't, but Scorpius frowned and dabbed at his forehead with his sleeve.

"What do you think? Rose!" Scorpius exclaimed. That name-and the way Scorpius said it-instantly set Albus' teeth on edge.

"Oh."

"Well don't you want to hear what happened? Because you'll never believe-"

"No," Albus supplied before Scorpius could finish. "Thanks, but I actually don't want to know. I've heard it all a thousand times before and, to be honest, it's getting kind of grating. Get your books out, you still have a scroll to write on that Potions essay. Come on, stop being so flippant. This is important." He tried to keep his tone steady here, bored-like, as if it didn't matter too much either way what Scorpius said.

Like it didn't annoy him more than his dad's unwelcome hair-ruffling whenever Scorpius talked about Rose.

Stupid Rose. She really ought to stop prancing around the school, all hoity-toity, with her impressively long hair, swaying hips and stupid boobs. Who cared about boobs? Every boy in the school apparently, apart from Albus, it seemed.

He looked up from his essay again after a lengthy silence. Scorpius hadn't reacted to any of his rude remarks, or even budged at all, and Albus avoided his eyes, unwilling to acknowledge any hurt he may have caused. He found himself wondering, all over again, how Scorpius had ever ended up in Slytherin; he was far too gentle for his own good.

It wasn't as if Albus enjoyed taking him down a peg, in any case, but it was Rose, and if he could just get Scorpius to stop obsessing about stupid, boring, stuck-up Rose, then everything would be fine and normal and perfect again.

It was all Rose's fault.

When Albus finally mustered the courage to meet his gaze again, Scorpius looked as sulky as Albus had imagined.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked casually.

"Uh, yeah," Scorpius replied with a hollow laugh. "It's you. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Stop being so dramatic and get your Potions stuff out."

"Really, Albus? That-just now-was, um, really mean." Scorpius tried for a little laugh here but only managed to sound like he was choking a bit. He was awful at confrontation and more awful still when it came to awkward moments, which only managed to endear him to Albus in ways that were at times painful.

"Since when am I not mean?" Albus countered.

"Well, you can be. Sometimes, I guess. But not to me. You always listen to me-you're my best friend! I want to tell you everything, even if it's kind of boring."

Albus groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. "Alright then, fine. You win. I'm sorry, okay? Spit it out: What happened with Rose? Tell me all about it."

Rose, Rose, Rose. Stupid Rose.

Albus balled his hands into fists, so hard his fingernails bit into his skin. He hid them beneath the table.

Scorpius beamed and visibly brightened. Albus listened intently as he launched into the whole sordid tale; how he'd cornered Rose after Quidditch practice and asked her to go for a walk. That she'd actually said yes, which he'd never, ever expected because Rose pitied him even if she didn't downright hate his guts and she'd never, ever said yes to anything he'd ever asked her. Blah, blah, blah. Moonlight, lake, Scorpius complimenting her hair and touching her hand. Blah, blah, blah. Scorpius asking her to the ball. Rose saying yes. Rose calling him "sweet" and kissing his cheek.

Albus grew more incensed with each passing second. By the end of it all he was in a full-blown rage and struggling to conceal it.

"Can you believe it?" Scorpius asked, exuberantly. "She actually wants to go with me."

Albus snapped. With a snort, he replied, "Yeah, that's great and all, Scorp, but it's not like she's some kind of prize."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Scorpius bristled.

"Seriously?" Albus laughed. "Rose is a stuck-up little brat with a god-complex. She's always looked down on you, she's always looked down on me, and let's be honest: she's probably only doing this to get back at me; to get under my skin."

"And why would she do that, Al? How does Rose and I doing anything together affect you at all?" Scorpius' tone had grown cool and short. Albus sensed the emotion in it and worried-for a split-second, no more-that Scorpius was either going to hit him or cry.

He laughed again, a flimsy cover for the deadly-serious rage that had been brewing inside him for months. The rage that threatened to bubble over whenever Scorpius looked at Rose or talked about her. Or anyone, really, if it was in...that kind of way.

Albus couldn't understand why Scorpius felt the desire to entangle himself in all of that nonsense, anyway. Albus had always been perfectly content having Scorpius and Scorpius alone, all to himself. He didn't need anyone else and the idea Scorpius might want to break away to engage in some kind of fling (with Rose of all people) left him feeling something like a landed fish, desperate and pathetic and gasping for air.

"Because she knows I don't like her," Albus finally answered. "She knows I don't like her-she's always whining about it to Aunt Hermione, Scorpius, even though she's the reason we don't get along anymore in the first place-and she knows exactly where to get at me."

"I don't understand."

"She knows what you mean to me. She knows how I feel about you." Albus swallowed the lump in his throat. He regretted speaking the words as soon as they'd departed his stupid mouth.

"Yeah, and I feel the same way about you, Albus," Scorpius replied, gently. He reached across the table, brushing Albus' hand with the backs of his knuckles. Albus withdrew as if burned. He didn't want pity, or gentleness; he just needed Scorpius to heed him, and leave it alone, and everything would be alright again.

"You're my best friend," Scorpius carried on, undeterred. "But that doesn't mean Rose is trying to get at you or get in-between us. How could she? People do this kind of thing all the time-you know, balls and the like. It doesn't have to mean anything. It doesn't have to be this huge deal. We'll still be best friends, you know." He was quite pink-cheeked again. He always blushed so easily. One of James' favourite games was Make Scorpius Blush Using Ten Words Or Less.

Scorpius always ran away after the first two or three rounds.

"Best friends," Albus repeated, absently. The phrase, the idea itself, had begun to grate on him. It wasn't enough.

Obviously Scorpius just didn't get it, or didn't care. Either way, the longing emptiness in his chest quickly gave way to a hot burst of anger and Albus opened his mouth without thinking.

"I'm only thinking of you here. I just don't want her to embarrass you. You know, she doesn't even like you, Scorpius. That's not what this is."

"What do you mean?" Scorpius' voice was small now. Albus couldn't look at him.

"That's why I said what I said," Albus pushed on. "I'm trying to protect you because I know her in a way you don't. She's messing with you. You don't know what she says when you're not around."

"Like? It couldn't be worse than any of the stuff she's said to my face, let's be honest."

Albus shrugged and picked at an indent in the table. He'd been picking at the same spot for years and years now; every night the indent got bigger, and deeper. Sometimes splinters lodged themselves beneath his fingernails, and they hurt, but he could never seem to stop picking at it.

"Well...it's just that I don't think you're exactly her type, if you catch my drift." He was being actively cruel now but there seemed no way to stop the tide. That secret little wound he'd kept hidden from Scorpius for what felt like centuries had been torn open, like a ripped-off scab, and he was bleeding freely now. He had already backed himself into a corner; might as well be reckless and go all the way with it, really twist the knife in and end this for good.

"Huh? What's wrong with me?"

Albus squashed down that little voice inside his head screaming at him to say, nothing. Nothing's wrong with you. You're perfect. To me, you're perfect. Instead, he said, "Well, it's just... she won't go with anyone shorter than her, you know, she's always been like that. She calls you The Little Runt whenever you're not around. Says you're so pale you look sickly, like a ghost, and it creeps her out."

Albus continued to pick at the table. Pick, pick, pick. There were tiny shavings of wood all over his fingers now.

"Oh." Scorpius' voice was small. "Well, that certainly puts things in a new perspective, doesn't it?"

"Mm. Well I know that's definitely what she prefers." He made a gesture with his hands, indicating some large, hulking figure. "Big guys. Good-looking. Tall. Athletic. You know the type."

Scorpius snorted a laugh. "Yeah. I do. Someone like you."

"Gross," Albus said shortly. "She's my cousin."

"That's not what I meant. Just that you're all of those things, Al, and I'm not. I'm never going to be that and well, I guess I'm never going to be enough for anyone, am I? You were right. Who'd want me? I was stupid."

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Albus struggled to balance the feelings of shame and repulsion at what he'd done with the feelings of glee that he'd stopped Rose from getting anywhere near his best friend. That he'd stopped her from interfering in something that belonged to him; something he was compelled to protect, no matter the cost.

Eventually, Scorpius gathered up his things and stood, stalling for a while as he toed at the ground. "I'm not feeling all too well, if I'm honest. Do you mind if I go back to the dorm now and catch up extra hard with Potions tomorrow? I will, I promise. I'm sorry we didn't get it all done tonight; I know how serious you are about OWLs this year."

Albus waved him off. "It's fine," he said magnanimously. "I'll see you up there?"

Scorpius nodded and scurried away. Albus watched him go, the torchlight bathing his retreating figure in gold, and buried his head in his hands.

Albus stayed at the library until forcibly removed and ordered to go to bed. Briefly, he contemplated leaping off one of the towers so he wouldn't have to face what he'd done. Or else just jumping into the lake and letting the Merpeople eat him to death, slowly, painfully, one bite at a time. Did Merpeople even eat humans? He'd never bothered to find out.

At some point, Albus found himself dwelling outside the entrance to the dormitory, prolonging the inevitable. When his back started to ache and his legs grew tired he forced himself, finally, to ascend the staircase, one step at a timee; as if in slow motion, each leg feeling like a lead weight strapped to his torso. He inched open the door, praying Scorpius and everyone else was already asleep so that he could get into bed and be alone with his shame.

Why did he have to be so cruel? Was he really so selfish he'd intentionally set fire to his friend's big moment just so he could covet him all to himself, like a butterfly trapped in a jar? Perhaps James had been right when he'd said the Sorting Hat was never wrong; that Albus had been delegated to Slytherin the moment that Hat had touched his head because he was bad, and there was something wrong with him, and James had known it all along but their parents were blind-

"Al?"

Albus froze in the dark, mid-shuffle. "Scorpius?"

"Obviously."

Albus exhaled and switched directions, shuffling on over to Scorpius' bed now and gently parting the hangings.

"Hey."

"Hey back." Scorpius was curled into a tight little ball. His pale hair shone as it fanned out across his pillow. He faced away from Albus.

"You okay?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Fine," he mumbled. "Been better, but fine."

Albus paused, still gripping at the hangings, and screwed up his face. "I'm sorry," he blurted, letting it all tumble out; the guilt and regret. "You know, for what I said. That was bang out of order."

"Was it? It was the truth, wasn't it? You shouldn't ever be sorry for telling the truth. I like that you're honest with me, even when I don't want you to be."

"The truth..." Albus said slowly, considering the weight of the word. He sat down at the edge of the mattress and Scorpius rolled onto his back, regarding Albus now with a troubled look.

"You told me the truth, didn't you?"

"Yes and no?" Albus answered weakly.

"I'm not following."

Albus sighed and scratched at his nose. He jerked at a thumb at the empty space beside Scorpius and said, "May I?"

Scorpius nodded, shifting over a bit, and Albus lay down beside him. He stared up at the low, glittering stone ceiling and laced his fingers together over his chest. He could feel his own heart thumping furiously against his palm. "I mean, I did, yeah. But no, too."

"Did someone Confund you on the way up here?"

"I'm trying to find the words," Albus admitted. Then: "Everything I said was true. Technically, at least. I mean, she did say those things once upon a time but it's been a while. Maybe things are different now. Maybe she's changed. Maybe I'm just being a bellend about everything because I'm...I don't know. Maybe it's me."

"Why are you defending her?" Scorpius sounded genuinely curious about this change in Albus' attitude considering he and Rose had been at each other's throats all year.

"I'm not. I'm just trying to be honest. Well. More honest."

Scorpius propped himself up on an elbow and stared intently at the side of Albus' head. "Spell it out for me."

"She said those things. She has said those things. But not for a while. Look, I think you grew on her or something and I'm just...I wasn't ready for it. And I should have told you, back there at the library, that even if she said those things once that doesn't make any of them true. They were cruel, and untrue, and I don't know why I didn't say anything. You are enough. You're... You're everything."

"Shut up," someone groaned from an adjacent bed. Albus couldn't work out exactly who it was. "Sorry!" he snapped back, waving a rude gesture around in the dark.

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to press on. "You said you wouldn't ever be enough for anyone. But that's what you don't understand. You don't see it, you just see me getting all jealous and wrong, but you are enough. You're enough to me and you always will be. Don't ever say who'd want you. I want you."

The silence stretched on, edging toward the very precipice of unbearable, before Scorpius punctured it like a balloon. "That was really sappy, Al." Albus broke into a reluctant grin at the lightness in his tone.

"I know. If you ever tell anyone, I'll-"

"Curse me for making everyone else see what I see. The real you."

Albus grimaced and said, "I should have just shut my mouth, alright? I was out of line. It won't happen again. He glanced to the side, meeting Scorpius' inquisitive grey stare, and his mouth was suddenly so dry it was difficult to swallow.

His gaze fell to Scorpius' mouth, not for the first time. Albus was sure he'd been caught staring before, eyes glazed like he was under a spell, thoughts fit to bursting of what mind happen if he just took the plunge and-

"You're making that strange face again," Scorpius pointed out.

"Right. Sorry."

"Are you feeling alright?" Scorpius reached out to press the back of his hand to Albus' forehead and, breathing hard and fast, Albus caught hold of his wrist and held it there, trapping him.

He seemed to have lost control of his own body. He felt separate from it, almost disembodied, as he yanked Scorpius towards him and pressed their lips together in a firm, desperate kiss. His heart hammered against his ribs as each second melted into the next, something unidentifiable but powerful seeming to bend the laws of time itself as one second stretched to become a thousand.

The kiss broke only when Scorpius made a little noise and jerked his head to one side. Albus froze, his breath catching, as panic and reality washed over him like sheets of ice.

"Wow." Scorpius's eyes were closed tight. Albus wondered whether he was finding it difficult to look at him after what they'd just done. "Why..." Scorpius seemed to be struggling to catch his breath, struggling even harder to find words. "What was that for?"

When Albus didn't-couldn't-respond, Scorpius whispered, "You're not really helping with that whole Confunded theory. What's gotten into you tonight?"

"I wasn't Confunded," Albus said in a strangled voice. "I'm not. I-I'm fine. I'm fine. I just...something came over me, and- I'm sorry. That was awful. I should—" Albus swung his legs over the side of the bed, stumbling as he lurched to his feet, lightheaded and unsteady in his terror.

"We'll talk in the morning?" Scorpius called after him. Albus couldn't tell if he was angry or just in shock.

"Yeah," Albus forced out, banging his shins on his bedframe as he collapsed down onto his mattress. "Morning."

He heard the bedsprings creak as Scorpius rolled away, the rustle of fabric as he drew his hangings closed, and then all was quiet.

"Albus Severus Potter, you spiteful little twerp!"

"Oi!" Albus yelped. Somehow he'd found himself being dragged down a deserted corridor by his earlobe: It was Rose, and she was furious.

"Let go of me!" Albus slapped her arm away and tried to right himself, stumbling and dropping his bag. A handful of quills clattered to the flagstones; all of his textbooks, some ink and spare parchment.

"Great, now look what you've done," he muttered darkly.

Rose shoved his shoulder, hard, so that he fell back against the wall. She folded her arms and advanced menacingly, cornering him there, glaring daggers as Albus stared indignantly right back.

"What's up your—"

"Don't you dare, Albus Potter," Rose warned, cutting him off. Her usually-perfect curls were askew, her face flushed with rage. "I know what you did."

The all-encompassing panic returned in one fell swoop, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. But how? He hadn't told a soul what had happened that night, unless Scorpius had...?

Of course. Scorpius.

Stupid Scorpius and his inability to keep his trap shut. Especially when it was Rose doing the asking.

"Look, I don't know what he told you but he's lying. We were arguing; he's telling tall stories and that's all there is to it. Are we done here?"

"Albus, how could you say those things to him?" Rose exploded.

"What?" Albus stared at her.

Rose lowered her voice to a whisper. "That I..." She cleared her throat, and looked around, obviously checking they weren't being overheard. "That I don't like boys like him. That I don't think he's handsome. That I think he's too short-sickly!"

"But you did say that," Albus reminded her with a shrug.

Rose lunged for him again, hand outstretched to deliver another violent shove but Albus dodged her this time, neatly sidestepping her arm. "I was only telling the truth," he protested, hands up. "You said it, not me. I thought he deserved to know before he went and did something stupid, like date you. Ugh." He affected a shudder and Rose's eyes flashed with rage.

"Oh, you little... Don't you dare pretend to be all noble now. Not with me, mister. I know you, you little toerag. You're jealous, and you're not above using your own best friend to get what you want. You really hurt him; I hope you know that. Proud of yourself, are you?"

Albus wanted to tell her no, because of course he wasn't, but he did his level best to remain indifferent. He couldn't let Rose get one over on him, not now.

"Nothing to say?" Rose baited. "You're a coward, Albus Potter, but you know what's worse? You're mean. Mean."

"Ha!" Albus laughed coldly. "I'm mean? Me? You're the one who said all that stuff about him, not me! You're the one who's spent the past five years not even giving him-not giving us-the time of day because you think you're too good for everybody, and now what? Now you want to play nice, go on sweet little moonlit strolls with him, hold his hand, get all kissy-kissy-"

"Oh, but that's the problem, isn't it, Albus?" Rose interrupted, sneering. She smiled, coldly, and added, "Because you're the one who wants to be doing those things. I'm just the poor sod getting in the way, am I right?"

"I want to-with you? Please. Don't make me ill." Albus feigned disgust but couldn't look her in the eye. Like a cornered animal he was subtly looking for a way out, an escape route, an easy way to flee before she confronted him with even more uncomfortable truths. Everything sounded so much worse coming from Rose anyway.

"Don't play dumb with me, Albus," Rose growled. "With him. It's as clear as day that you have feelings for him, and not just the friendly kind. You're a jealous mess."

"Shut up, Rose," Albus warned. "You don't know anything. You don't know what you're talking about; it's pure fiction and I'm not listening to this."

"Oh, Albus. Darling. I think the midnight snog kind of gave you away. The way Scorpius described it, it was anything but friendly."

Albus felt as if she'd dumped a bucket of ice water over his head and then slapped him to boot. He tried to speak, choked on his words and had to cough, clear his throat before he got anything out. "That's private," he said in a strangled voice. "It's none of your business."

"It is now," Rose said with a careless shrug, a triumphant sort of tone to her voice. Albus wondered, not for the first time, how she hadn't ended up in Slytherin with him. She'd probably bribed the Sorting Hat, promised her first-born child or something mad like that.

"Like I said: I'm done talking about this. Leave me alone. Leave us alone." Albus dropped to his knees and scrambled to gather his books, the spilled quills and parchment. His hands shook violently. Rose grabbed his elbow before he could stalk away; Albus hissed at her and yanked it away.

"Do you want some free advice?"

"Nope."

"Tell the truth. Just tell him how you feel about him, you idiot, and stop using me as your villain. I'm not your enemy, Albus. Besides, I have a feeling you're more his type than I am, at any rate. He just doesn't know it yet. And stop ignoring him, will you? That's really low, just in case you didn't know that already."

"Keep your beak out of it if you know what's good for you, Rose." Albus tossed his bag over one shoulder, shot his cousin one final glower and stormed off down the corridor, blood pounding angrily in his ears.

The first thing Albus saw upon entering the library was a flash of white-blond hair. His heart skipped a beat as he strode purposefully past his and Scorpius' usual study desk to one at the far corner of the library, where he couldn't see him; wouldn't have to look at the bewildered, angry look upon his face.

It was better this way. It had to be.

Albus placed his belongings carefully upon the desk, taking his time as he rearranged his books, quills and parchment. Straightening then re-straightening his quills. Smoothing and re-smoothing his sheets of parchment. Refilling his ink-pot one drop at a time.

"Albus?"

Albus glanced up in shock; he had been so absorbed in his committment to ignoring everyone and everything that he hadn't noticed Scorpius approach. Glowering, he sniffed and wiped at his eyes with the sleeves of his robes.

"What do you want?" he said thickly.

"Can I sit?"

Albus shrugged and indicated an empty chair with a nod of his head. "Go ahead. Rest. You're probably tired from running your big mouth all day."

"Don't," Scorpius warned. "Don't you speak to me like that. It isn't you." It was said without anger but still, Albus was ashamed of himself.

"'M'Sorry," he mumbled.

"I'm your friend, you know. I'm not your enemy," Scorpius said gently.

"Right. You know, you're not the first person to say that to me today. Certainly doesn't feel that way."

"Oh, Albus, come on. You know I love you." Albus' breath hitched in his throat. "We're like brothers."

And there it was. Like the swell of a bubble pricked by the tip of a blade. Albus imagined his own pitiful heart laying on the floor at Scorpius' feet, all shrivelled up like a wilting flower, Scorpius cackling madly as he impaled it with a silver dagger, blood spurting out all over the place, spraying the walls, all the books.

"You mean so much to me. Please don't shut me out, I couldn't bear it."

"I'm not. I-I won't," Albus choked out. He trained his eyes on the table, started picking a new indent on this new, unfamiliar wood. "Look, just... Let me get over this- whatever this is-and everything will be alright again. Please. We can go back to normal, I promise."

"What if I don't want to?" Scorpius reached across the table and laid his hand over Albus', who stopped picking at once. His skin was soft and wonderfully warm, a soothing balm to Albus' bruised heart.

"You didn't kiss me back," he felt compelled to point out, in a very small voice. "I thought you didn't like it."

"But I never said that," Scorpius reminded him, his thumb brushing gently across Albus' knuckles. He was always so unfailingly gentle. Albus wanted to melt against him, let that softness brush away every sore spot inside him.

"You surprised me. And I never got a chance to say another word because you've been avoiding me."

"I know," Albus admitted, again ashamed of his behavior. "I was afraid I'd spoiled something. Like things could never be the same between us again, all because I-"

"You haven't spoiled anything," Scorpius said fiercely.

A tiny, new bubble of hope had begun to form inside him. Aware what he was about to say may burst it yet again, he asked, "And Rose?"

"We're friends. You know I've always wanted her to like me. I think we might actually be getting there, finally." He laughed and Albus tried his best to return a small smile.

"So you'll be—"

"Look, just shut up about that for a minute. I want to try something." Albus blinked, taken aback. Scorpius cast a furtive look at their surroundings and then rose, palm pressed to the table, sweeping Albus' new parchments aside as he closed the gap between them and planted a firm, confident kiss to Albus' mouth.

Albus let out a muffled noise of surprise. His heart swelling, he launched into action, shoving the rest of his things aside, and took Scorpius' face between his hands. He pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss, so unwilling to part it was as if he was depending on Scorpius for air itself.

When they finally broke apart, Scorpius was as pink as Albus had ever seen him, eyes bright and sparkling, his fingers still twisted in Albus' tie. Albus was certain he had never seen anything so desirable in all his life.

"That was-"

"Amazing," Scorpius finished, and Albus immediately thought of their upcoming Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, where they had been promised to commence learning on how to cast a Patronus.

This is it, Albus thought. This is the only happy memory I'll ever need.

When they had taken their seats again, each avoiding the other's gaze-not out of harsh feelings; more pure chagrin for being so careless in the library-but wearing matching grins, Scorpius said, "I missed you when you were gone."

"Me too," Albus said, unrolling a scroll of parchment and dipping his quill in his ink, writing a fresh heading across the very top.

"Will we be alright, then, Al?" Scorpius asked. There was a note of uncertainty in his tone Albus had scarcely heard before.

He reached across the table and took Scorpius' hand, threading their fingers together.

"We will. I promise."