Silence surrounded them, and neither seemed willing to break it. James hadn't moved, his feet cemented to the floor, his gaze distant. Albus sat on the bed, his head in his hands, fingers clenched in his hair. James finally sighed, numb from the silence and his own stillness, and prepared to leave the room.

"That's it..." His brother's voice stopped him.

Albus lifted his head and continued:

"I think this is the first time in my life I've seen you run away."

"I'm not running away," James replied firmly, turning toward him.

Albus nodded, a sad, weary smile on his lips. His eyes were red.

"Yeah, sure," he began, clasping his hands, nervously twisting his fingers. "Why would you run? You haven't done anything wrong, right?"

The irony in his voice was unmistakable, and James pressed his lips together, taking a deep breath.

"Is it true?" Albus asked.

"What?"

"What Finnigan said, is it true?" He wasn't looking at his brother anymore. He rubbed his hands as if the gesture would help him stay calm. "Did you tell the Gryffindors to leave Dorian and Scorpius alone?"

"Yes."

His voice didn't tremble; it was steady, emotionless, chillingly devoid of feeling.

"Why?"

James clicked his tongue, irritated, and took a breath before answering:

"You know exactly why, Albus. Stop playing dumb."

"No."

Albus stood up and faced his brother. He realized he'd grown, and now James barely towered over him. He could look him in the eye without lifting his head.

"No, I want to hear you say it. Maybe I'm an idiot... Because I'm convinced that my brother, the guy I grew up with, the one who's been my role model since birth, would never do something like this."

James let out a silent, scornful laugh:

"Maybe I'm not as perfect as you think."

"That much, we agree on." He ignored the melancholic flicker he saw when James averted his eyes. Bitter, he insisted:

"James!"

"You don't understand." His voice was harsh, his eyes blazing with a dark fire. "Malfoy knows why. I have my reasons."

A sad smirk appeared on the corner of his lips.

"It's over anyway."

"Since when?"

"Tonight."

"So, I walked in on a goodbye kiss? If I'd come earlier, what would I have seen?"

That cruel smile returned.

"Is that a rhetorical question, or do you really want me to tell you which bed we did it on?"

Albus grimaced, a shudder of disgust running through him, but a strange cold calm numbed him.

"I knew he was seeing someone," he said softly. "Even before he told me outright, I knew it. He'd say the situation was complicated, that he couldn't tell me anything. I didn't think a complicated situation meant... that you were forcing him to..." His voice broke.

"It's not as sordid as it sounds," James objected. The anger was swelling inside him as if Albus's judgment meant nothing. He had nothing to say to him.

"Oh yeah? Then explain how it happened?"

James sighed, running his hand over his eyes and through his brown hair:

"I ran into him in a corridor," he said, shrugging.

Albus raised his eyebrows, urging him to continue.

"He was looking for the Gryffindor Tower. He wanted to see Nott. He'd gotten into a fight in his dorm, and McLaggan and two other Gryffindors had roughed him up. I told him if he didn't want it to happen again, he had to give in..."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"I gave him a choice."

"Dorian... did this happen on the first day of class? Did you blackmail him?"

"He could've said no."

Albus hit him. A sudden impulse. His fist crashed against his brother's jaw, his lip splitting against his teeth. James raised his hand to his mouth, blood spilling between his fingers. Albus trembled all over, fist clenched, not caring about the pain in his knuckles from the blow. He looked at his brother, breathing heavily, his eyes filled with tears of rage.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" he said, his voice breaking. "From the start, you wanted someone to beat you up. Are you proud of yourself? Really?"

James wiped his hand, blood trickling down his chin.

"Proud? No..." he said, spitting blood onto the floor. "But I don't regret it."

Albus faltered and struck his brother again, but this time James was quicker and landed a punch in his stomach. Albus cried out, wrapping his arms around himself as his legs gave out. James caught him before his knees hit the floor and lowered him gently to the ground. He held him tightly.

"Stop hitting," he murmured, his forehead buried in Albus's dark hair. "I'm still stronger than you."

Albus finally caught his breath as the pain subsided. James's arms held him firmly. A liquid trickled down his neck, and as he straightened, he saw that James's lip was bleeding on him. He pushed his brother away, wiped his neck, and smeared the blood on his pants. He backed up and sat against a trunk at the foot of the bed. James didn't move.

Albus rubbed his stomach, casting a dark look at his brother.

"You can't get away with this. There's a name for what you did."

In a flash, James was on him, grabbed him by the collar, lifted him, and slammed him against the bed, as if he weighed nothing, which almost frightened Albus:

"Oh yeah? Then speak! Go tell our parents, tell them what happened, go tell the papers too, and don't forget to inform the Malfoys on your way. I'm sure Scorpius will thank you for shouting from the rooftops that I forced him to spread his legs for two months."

Albus opened his mouth to respond, but he felt powerless. Of course, Scorpius would never forgive him if he spoke about what had happened.

"This suits you just fine..." he murmured, ashamed of being unable to do anything. "That he wants no one to know."

James averted his gaze, biting his lip. His fists clenched.

"Neither of us is proud of what happened, believe me."

Albus let out a weak, unconvincing laugh, but said nothing. It all felt unreal to him. For months, he had been living a lie. All the moments he had shared with Scorpius, all those moments now seemed like a sinister joke, a hallucination. He'd been deceived, betrayed, disgusted by his own brother.

And Scorpius...

Albus felt his throat tighten and his heart contract. A disgust for himself, for not having been able to interpret the boy's looks and refusals. There must have been moments when Malfoy had thought of James while he was with Albus. His brother, his own brother, was the one touching him, forcing him to come to him. How wrong he had been, attributing Scorpius's silences to a desire to distance himself, to escape him. He simply couldn't speak. And Albus had rejected him for that, had hated him for it.

James's voice pulled him out of his daze.

"I'm sorry."

Albus stared at James, unable to understand why he had uttered those words. He shook his head.

"It's not me you should be apologizing to," he murmured.

"Oh, yes, it is," James leaned against the wood of the canopy, hands in his pockets. "Because I knew you were already hooked. I saw the way you looked at him. And Lily had told me you were collecting the magazines with articles about him. But at no point did I think of you or what it would do to you. I thought Scorpius was just using you like anyone else, and seeing you become his lapdog, after I warned you, it really pissed me off."

He lowered his head, his voice becoming a deep breath.

"It even made me very angry."

He straightened and sat beside his brother on the mattress. Instinctively, Albus scooted back toward the head of the bed. James's presence disgusted him, and he realized it had been a long time now since his brother had made him feel this way, this intense ambiguity between the brotherly admiration that had fueled his childhood and the resentment for the man he had become.

"But it's not the same anymore," James said, his hands clasped, elbows resting on his thighs. He exhaled softly, then lowered his head and blinked several times. Albus thought he saw his eyes glisten as if he was holding back tears, but he must have been mistaken.

"I've been watching you and Scorpius degrade since last week, and it got worse since you stopped seeing each other. And when he let go of the broom to catch the Golden Snitch..."

His voice broke. He shook his head, a grimace of anger distorting his face.

"Get out. I have no explanation to give you. And no, you won't tell anyone."

"Don't be so sure," retorted Albus, lifting his chin, defiant.

"You'd risk losing him forever, just to make me pay for what I did?" James gave a sad, inconsolable laugh. "No, of course not. Don't pretend you have a courage you know nothing about."

He patted the boy's leg, as if calming a stubborn child.

"In the end, you're just like me," he said wearily, getting up slowly from the bed. "You don't care about his well-being; you just want to have him for yourself."

Albus winced as something tore in his chest. He felt anger pouring from every pore of his skin, a surge of hatred.

James had his back turned, ready to leave. Trembling, Albus grabbed the bronze candleholder on the bedside table and violently struck his brother on the nape. With the blow, James groaned. His legs gave way, and he fell to his knees. A sharp pain shot through his skull and down his spine. His breath was cut off, and he gasped as his vision blurred. His lungs filled again, but he felt himself fading. He was about to collapse when Albus grabbed him by the arm, yanking him back toward him. Their faces were so close that Albus could feel James's breath on his cheek.

When he spoke, his voice was dark, deep, and menacing. For a moment, it sounded strange and unsettling even to his own ears.

"I forbid you to approach him, I forbid you to speak to him, I forbid you to even look at him. If I ever see you lay a hand on him, James, I won't need to tell anyone, because you'll be the one calling for help!"

James's eyes flickered, and his lips parted, but no sound came out. The apprehension that clouded his gaze was the only response Albus needed.

He released him, full of contempt, and left the dormitory.

"If you need to go to the infirmary, call Finnigan," he said, slamming the door behind him.

The wind was icy, and Scorpius wondered again why they were out on the castle ramparts in the middle of the night, when the place was filled with large rooms warmed by wood fires and magic.

"I need to clear my head" was the only sentence Dorian had spoken since they left the Gryffindor dormitory. Scorpius cast the warming charm on his clothes again, as it had faded, proof that they'd been outside for nearly half an hour.

Sitting on the stone wall, Dorian gazed into the distance like a warrior waiting for enemy troops to lay siege to his domain, his expression dark, a crease between his brows and his jaw clenched.

Scorpius could no longer bear the silence.

"If you have something to say, Dorian, say it, so we can finally go back inside where it's warm!"

Nott turned to him. He didn't seem to feel the cold. Dressed in a light sweater, the wind hit his face and neck, lifting his hair to reveal the scar that crossed his eye. Scorpius realized it was rare to see both of his eyes uncovered like that. And those two fiery pupils were staring at him, dark and furious.

"Was there ever a moment when you intended to tell me?" he finally asked Scorpius.

"No."

Malfoy hadn't hesitated before answering, and Dorian looked away just as a growl of anger rumbled in his throat. He bit his tongue between his teeth, as if holding back from shouting words at the moon that Scorpius wouldn't have the strength to hear.

He wanted to run, to dash down the stairs that had led them to the ramparts. He had feared this confrontation, the moment when he'd have to explain and confess. He had silently prayed that this moment would never come.

"When did it start?"

Hearing Dorian's voice, he thought he didn't have to answer. He could still leave. He could still keep silent about what had happened. But his friend wouldn't let that happen. He knew too much. It was better to comply.

"The first day of class."

"Why?"

Scorpius winced. He wrapped his arms around himself, but it wasn't the wind making him shiver.

"You don't want to know, Dorian."

"Oh, but you're wrong!"

Dorian suddenly approached him, his eyes blazing, towering over him.

"I do want to know. I want you to tell me everything. Better yet, I wish you'd told me the day it happened. That you hadn't waited two months for me to catch you in a dormitory with James Potter! You could've told me, and we could've faced it together."

"No, Dorian, we were drowning," Scorpius pleaded. "On the first day, you got beaten up, and I know you — you wouldn't have stayed quiet, and neither would I. We were alone!"

"So that was your solution?" Dorian said, gesturing in disgust from head to toe at Scorpius's body.

He turned away, opening and closing his fists, trembling with fury.

"I can't even bring myself to say what you were doing with that bastard! Just thinking about it makes me want to vomit. But I know you did it for me, and that disgusts me even more! How do you think I feel, knowing what you did? Damn it, I should tell your father everything…"

Scorpius felt the blood drain from his face, and a shiver ran through his body.

"What?" he asked weakly.

"Yeah, I should tell him everything!" Dorian repeated. "About Goyle, about James, even about that… that scumbag who dared touch you. I should tell him everything!"

Scorpius stepped toward him, pointing a trembling finger at him, his whole body shaking.

"I forbid you from doing that! And if you care about me, if you care about our friendship, you'll drop that idea right now!"

"Our friendship?" Nott spat the word as if it were venom, his voice sharp with disillusionment. "Are you kidding me? You call this a friendship? You've been screwing around behind my back for two months to protect me, and you expect me to stay quiet?"

"If you tell him, Dorian," Scorpius said softly, his voice slow, as his eyes filled with tears. "I swear you'll never see me again."

Dorian didn't respond; he looked at his friend, his face filled with sadness.

"You're good at blackmail too…" he finally said, defeated, as he sat down on the rampart.

They remained silent, listening to the wind howl through the cracks in the stone. Then Dorian let out a disdainful laugh as he raised his eyes to the stars.

"What?" Scorpius asked apprehensively.

Nott bit his lip as he looked at him before answering:

"Why did I make it onto the Gryffindor team?"

For a moment, Scorpius didn't understand the question and shrugged.

"Because you passed the tryouts, because you're the best."

"Is that really why?" Nott interrupted. "Or did you ask him to let me in?"

Irritated, Scorpius was about to retort with the same sharp tone, but he hesitated. He wasn't sure of his answer because he remembered a conversation they'd had in the Room of Requirement, when the walls were red and the heat stifling, with James beside him under crimson sheets.

"I… asked him to be fair," he said softly.

Dorian blinked and looked away.

"When was that?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the stone.

"The day of the tryouts."

"Before or after?"

"What?" Scorpius hesitated, his voice trembling now.

"Did you ask him to be fair before or after he fucked you?" Dorian pressed, without sparing him.

Scorpius winced and swallowed hard, tears filling his eyes, though he didn't know if it was shame or anger that made him tremble like that.

"Before," he murmured.

"And when did you get his answer?"

"After."

"Damn it, Scorpius..."

"You didn't make the team because I slept with James!" Scorpius exclaimed, indignant.

"Oh yeah? Because it sure looks like that!"

"If you don't believe me, you can always ask him," Scorpius said, pointing to the Gryffindor tower visible from the rampart.

"Sure," Dorian sneered, a malicious smile on his lips. "Next time I see him, I'll smash his face in."

"No, you won't! I'm done with James, I don't want you to get involved."

"Are you telling me it's none of my business?"

"Exactly!"

"Damn it, can you hear yourself? You're not going to defend him!"

"I'm not defending him!"

"Then let me give him what he deserves!" His voice was pleading now, breaking into a whisper. "He had no right to do that to you…"

"If you beat him up, Dorian, it'll be to ease your own conscience, not for me! I don't need you to intervene; it was over before you walked into that dorm! If you hadn't come through that door, the matter would've been settled, and we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

"To ease my conscience? To ease my conscience?!" Dorian yelled, standing up, furious. "Yeah, damn it, I need to ease my conscience! I need it! You're driving me crazy! What's next time going to be?"

Scorpius let out a joyless, scornful laugh.

"What next time? What are you talking about? Nothing like this is ever going to happen again."

"What won't happen again? You staying silent instead of asking for help? You falling to rock bottom and then telling me to shut up and do nothing?"

He mimicked Scorpius's voice, imitating his gestures:

"Oh no, it's nothing, Dorian, a student beat me up and left me in a hallway, bleeding. But don't say anything. That? It's nothing, Dorian, your team captain's been screwing me for two months to keep you from getting beaten up. But don't say anything. That? It's nothing, Dorian, the Transfiguration professor wanted to give me a private lesson! But don't say anything!"

Dorian had shouted the last phrases, and now he was panting, desperate at the sight of Scorpius. The boy had both hands over his mouth, stifling his sobs. His shoulders shook as he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was hiccuping, pressing his fingers tighter to keep the cries from escaping his lips.

Dorian ran to him and took him in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling the boy's hands away from his mouth. Scorpius cried freely now, his face buried in Dorian's chest, his body shaking with sobs, letting out heart-wrenching moans.

Nott held him tightly, one arm around his waist, the other hand running across his back. He hated himself for bringing Scorpius to this state, but he also knew this was what the boy needed. They stayed like that for a long time, until Scorpius's sobs stopped and his breathing calmed. Dorian waited until the heartbeat he felt in Scorpius's chest aligned with his own, now soothed.

But it was Malfoy who broke the embrace. He didn't push away the arms around him, but he lifted his tear-streaked face to his friend.

"You're being unfair, Dorian."

"Of course, I'm being unfair, I'm angry!" he said, stroking the boy's hair. He kissed his forehead.

Malfoy rested his head against him again, and Dorian continued:

"How am I supposed to trust you after this? I can't be scared for you all the time, Scorpius. You don't know how to protect yourself, and you don't let me protect you. I could throw you off this rampart, and it'd be less dangerous than leaving you alone with yourself!"

"But now I'll talk to you," Scorpius murmured, his voice muffled. He sniffled and continued, "Next time, I'll tell you everything."

"Next time…" Dorian hesitated and tightened his arms around Malfoy. "Why don't you tell me what's already happened?"

"You already know what happened," came the muffled reply.

"… I'm not talking about James Potter."

He felt Scorpius tense in his arms, stiffening, losing all softness. He had stopped crying, and his breathing was silent, almost extinguished.

He lifted his head, and the look he gave Dorian was dark.

"You already know what happened," he said in a monotone, his face expressionless.

"No. I had to piece it together. I want… I need you to tell me."

Scorpius pushed him away, both hands pressed against his chest. He wiped his tears, his wet eyes and cheeks, with the sleeves of his sweater, sniffing. He turned toward the void, climbing onto the crenellations, his gaze fixed on the black horizon.

His throat tightened. He felt even colder now that he'd cried.

Dorian stood beside him, leaning against the stone. He looked at Scorpius. His eyes were red from tears, but the rest of his face was now austere, and a cruel crease formed at the corner of his mouth. The anger gave his eyes a soft glow. Nott watched his chest rise and fall with a bit more force, and he knew Scorpius was gathering the memories of that day, fighting an inner battle as he forced himself to remember and confront his own repulsion and fear of the memory.

This night was so calm, so different from the torment that animated his body, spreading like poison through his veins. Dorian turned his eyes away from him, gazing beyond the ramparts. He could make out the Forbidden Forest and strained to hear the sounds of nocturnal creatures hiding there, legendary monsters, terrifying, just steps from Hogwarts's doors. And how many other monsters with human faces were hiding within these very walls?

It was Scorpius's voice that pulled him from his thoughts.

"I can't tell you," he said as a single tear slid down his pale cheek. He turned toward him.

"But I can show you."

End of Chapter 23

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