FIC & ART: The Poison Tree [PG-13] - Part 2
In the corner of the library, behind the dusty Arithmancy books that no one read, sat Scorpius, his robe ironed to perfection, a snake tie pin winking against his tightly knotted green and silver tie. With his long ostrich feather quill tapping against his parchment, Scorpius waited anxiously for Albus to show for their first tutoring session.
And waited...
And waited...
Finally after an hour Scorpius began gathering his things into his bag, cursing underneath his breath. He'd have to regroup, come up with a new plan.
“You didn't tell anybody.”
Scorpius paused his packing and looked up. Seeing Albus he sighed and began packing again. “Of course I didn't. I told you I wouldn't, didn't I?”
Albus gripped his bag. “I wasn't sure I could believe you considering I don't really know you beside what you said to me first year.”
Scorpius flicked his eyes to Albus' ear. “You're wearing a hearing aid.”
Albus ran a hand through his hair, effectively hiding the aid, “I wanted to make sure I could hear you during our study session.”
“A study session you are an hour late for,” Scorpius replied, but he stopped packing his bag.
Albus sheepishly shrugged as he sat down next to Scorpius and took out his potions textbook. “Are you staying?” Albus asked, his big green eyes looking straight at Scorpius'. Scorpius swallowed back his pride, his frustration, and nodded.
Hours later, had any other student passed them by, they would have stopped and stared, not solely because it was a lion and a snake working together, but because it was this lion and this snake willingly spending time together.
Upon closer inspection, the passing student might have noticed that not all was going as peacefully as it seemed. The lion had turned his hair into a nest fit for a family of wrens after pulling on it so much, and his mouth was constantly downturned into a deep scowl. The snake, in contrast, was cool and collected, ignoring the scowling and hair pulling in favour of mad scribbling upon his parchment.
After that successful study session, Albus and Scorpius scheduled another time to meet, and then another. Soon, the pair could be found in the same corner of the library every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Monday, the topic was Transfiguration and Potions, Wednesday Astronomy and Defence Against the Dark Arts, Friday was History of Magic and Charms. On Tuesdays and Thursdays the pair would study Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures underneath a copse of trees near the Forbidden Forest, weather permitting. Albus had insisted that they spend some of their time out of doors. Scorpius hated Tuesdays and Thursdays, not because of an aversion to fresh air, but because Albus spent most of their time wistfully staring at the Quidditch pitch and sighing, loudly.
“I know you want to be back with the team, but you need to study,” Scorpius would remind him.
“My hearing really doesn't affect my ability to find the snitch,” Albus would reply, his eyes scanning the skies for the practice snitch and finding it ages before the backup Seeker, Mindy Charleston, third year, would.
“Yes, but it does hamper your ability to hear any whistles,” Scorpius would remind Albus, before turning his attention to the subject at hand.
So far, Scorpius’ plan was working perfectly. Not only had Scorpius successfully wormed himself into Albus’ life, he held very private information about his enemy that he could use at any time, if he chose to do so.
According to Albus, Scorpius was the only student to know of his hearing problem at Hogwarts beside Madame Pomfrey and the other professors. After the accident, Albus had suffered what Madame Pomfrey diagnosed as temporary hearing loss, the emphasis on temporary. For that, Madame Pomfrey had given Albus a small hearing aid that Albus hated to wear, mostly because it screeched loudly whenever anyone yelled, which happened often in the Gryffindor tower, and because Albus was afraid someone might see it.
Albus wore the aid reluctantly for class, hiding the flesh toned bean-like item underneath his shaggy hair. But it worked only some of the time as magic sometimes interfered with the reception and randomly Spanish music would ring through Albus’ ears. But, as soon as class ended, he would quickly remove it and go about his day only hearing every other word spoken to him, if he was lucky.
You are too vain, Scorpius would write. Just wear it all the time, or ask for one that works.
But Albus refused, believing that one day he would wake up and his hearing would return, so why let anyone know about his temporary setback and why ask for a better hearing aid when it was surely to be just a blip in Albus' normal life?
With Scorpius’ help, Albus had caught up with most of his classes, enough that the professors were pleased with his progress. But, amongst his friends, Albus was having a hard time following the thread of conversations. Normally reticent, most of his friends had failed to notice the change, but some had, especially Rose, and Albus was desperate to keep his secret hidden until his hearing returned.
“You have to help me,” Albus pleaded one Wednesday afternoon, interrupting Scorpius’ revision of Albus’ notes. “There has to be some way for you to tell me what’s going on.”
Scorpius raised an eyebrow and scribbled:
Put your hearing aid on and then maybe we’ll talk.
Albus rolled his eyes before pulling out his aid from his pocket and placing it in his ear.
“Fine, now will you help me?”
“I'm doing an awful lot of helping already,” Scorpius replied, shuffling the notes in front of him. If Albus wanted more help from him, this time it wouldn't be for free. Scorpius needed something now, more information, more blackmail material, more things he could use for Albus' ultimate public humiliation.
Albus scratched his head, “Won't be long now, I think my hearings improving.”
Scorpius raised an eyebrow. “Is it? I heard you tell Susie Dorman that you missed flying when all she asked you was if you had finished your Herbology project.”
Albus' cheeks turned red. “Did I really? See, this is what I mean. I need your help!”
Scorpius smirked.
“Let's say I already have a plan,” he started. Albus perked up and began to bounce in his seat. “But, I think this free tutoring has gone long enough, don't you think? I think it’s time for me to get something back.”
Albus turned his head. “What do you mean? You want me to buy you stuff?”
Scorpius laughed. “No, I have plenty of money. Think. What do you have that I don't?”
Albus bit his lip. “Black hair?”
Scorpius hit him in the shoulder. “No, you idiot. You are popular, I am not.”
Again, Albus looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I'm talking about being in your social circle, you twit. If you want me to help you in social situations I have to be in your social situations to help you. So, make me a member of your fan club, let me hang out with you, in public, and I will help you respond acceptably to your friends.”
“You want to hang out with me?” Albus replied, a surprised look on his face.
“If you don't want to do it,” Scorpius hastily said, “then just wear your damned hearing aid all the time.”
Albus stuck his tongue out. “It itches.”
“You complain too much. Plenty of people wear hearing aids every day. It is not a big deal. If it were me, I would want to hear.”
Albus tapped on his hearing aid. “It is fun to turn it off sometimes, tune everyone out.”
“I'd miss all the little sounds too much,” Scorpius confessed, his stomach fluttering at such an admission.
“Like what?” Albus looked genuinely curious.
Scorpius licked his lips. “Well, if you listen really closely, you can hear the tiny sound of elves popping in and out around Hogwarts. No one ever hears it because it is so soft, but sometimes I find myself in an empty hallway and I hold my breath for just a second and then pop. It sounds just like a bubble bursting.”
Albus smiled and then held his breath, his cheeks filling with air. A few seconds later he shook his head laughing. “I didn't hear the elves, but I did hear Madam Pince from a few rows over complaining about her backache.”
Scorpius leaned forward and tapped on Albus' ear. “And you wouldn't have been able to hear that if you didn't have that aid. Be grateful that you have any hearing at all. Modern medicine is a wonderful thing.”
Albus looked sheepishly down. “I am grateful, very grateful. My accident could have been a lot worse, I know. But, I'm not ready to wear the hearing aid all the time. Not yet.”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Then, you are going to need my help.”
“Right,” Albus said. “So, you want to be friends.”
Scorpius nodded. “Yes, we can start small, of course.”
“Of course,” Albus replied.
“We can begin with Quidditch. You are off the team because of your hearing problem. You aren't able to hear whistles and your team mates shouts, but you can still fly, correct?”
“Right,” Albus said slowly.
“Then teach me how to fly.”
“What?”
“Its a perfectly fine excuse for us to socialize. You can even claim my father bought your time. The Slytherin team is short handed with a large chunk of their players now banned, and I want to try out for the team. You offered to help, and I offered to tutor you. How does that sound?”
“Do you actually want me to teach you how to fly?”
Scorpius laughed at Albus' excited face. “I already know how to fly, but I'm sure you can show me a few pointers.”
“So, we are actually going to fly together, right?”
“Yes,” Scorpius laughed harder. “You are ridiculously easy to please. We will fly, and be seen together, perhaps drink pumpkin juice at The Three Broomsticks together.”
Albus smiled. “I can do that.”
“Good,” Scorpius said, and then pulled a piece of parchment out of his bag. “So now that that is settled, here is my plan.”
Albus' eyes went wide. “You knew I was going to ask about this!”
Scorpius smirked. “Of course I did. I'm in Slytherin for a reason. We're going to use a series of very small hand gestures that won't look strange if someone catches me doing them. Different gestures mean different things. Obviously I can't just sign everything to you, so you are going to have to attempt to follow along as best as you can still, but at least if someone asks you a question you have some patented answers you can give.”
Albus pointed at the parchment. “So this means yes.”
Scorpius sat up straight, looked right at Albus, and then pulled his ear quickly.
“Huzzah!” Albus cried. “And tapping your nose means no. Very creative.”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “They have to be things you remember.”
“What are these?” Albus asked, pointing at the bottom row of hand gestures. Scorpius smiled.
“These are emotions. I may not be able to tell you exactly what is going on, but at least I can tell you the mood of the conversation.” Scorpius scratched his chin. “This means that someone is telling a joke.” He scratched his chin a few times. “The longer I repeat the action, the larger the emotion, or the funnier the joke.” He pulled on his hair. “This means someone is telling you a sad story.”
“So if someone is telling me their grandmother just died, does that mean you'll yank your hair out?”
“Something like that,” Scorpius replied. “Do you think this will work for you?”
Albus looked seriously at the parchment. Albus had to agree to the plan. Once Albus did, Scorpius would have complete control over what Albus said to his friends, to professors, to anyone. Scorpius crossed his toes underneath his shoes.
“I love it,” Albus crowed. “You, Scorpius, are a genius.”
“I know,” Scorpius laughed. “I know.”
~*~
They started out small. Albus told all his friends that Scorpius had practically begged Albus to teach him to fly and he accepted, out of the goodness of his heart. Most bought it, thinking Albus a kind soul, willing to overlook the horrible things Scorpius had said about his family. Others, though, didn't trust it.
The first afternoon Albus and Scorpius went flying, James came along with them, scowling at Scorpius the entire time. Scorpius didn't mind it. He put on a wonderful performance, pretending to be shaky on the broom and needing Albus' help every once in a while. They even were able to test out the hand gestures for the first time. James had asked Albus to go to the Hogwarts kitchens after the practice for some cake, but Albus had failed to hear anything beyond cake. Scorpius could see Albus mouth the word cake, so Scorpius pulled on his ear. Albus looked at Scorpius funny, so Scorpius did it again. Finally, almost as if a light bulb had gone off, Albus understood and yelled out, “Yes” back at James. A few moments later, when James was distracted by a busty sixth year passing by the pitch, Scorpius filled Albus in on what exactly he had said yes to.
Rose, finding out there were study sessions, wanted to attend. Not being able to come up with a sufficient excuse, Scorpius found his Thursday session with Albus suddenly interrupted by a nosy redhead. Scorpius distracted Rose with deep discussion of the many uses of mugswort, leaving Albus to study Scorpius' notes, his shaggy hair covering his hearing aid.
Their first trip to Hogsmeade did not go as smoothly. They had attempted to drink at The Three Broomsticks, but when Scorpius went to use the bathroom someone thought it would be funny to seal the door shut, effectively locking Scorpius in. It took a half an hour before someone noticed the banging, and by then Albus had left and Scorpius was late getting back to school. Scorpius began finding threatening notes in his bag, the tripping and the name calling got worse, and then, during one of Scorpius' flying practices with Albus, his broom suddenly went awry. It was only when Albus yelled out for the mysterious person to stop it, did the shaking stop.
But the gestures were working, despite the setbacks. Albus was able to converse more freely with his friends and Scorpius was gaining more and more of Albus' trust.
So, after a few weeks of successful hand gestures, Scorpius began to test the waters.
When Frank Bell approached Albus about a group study session for the upcoming O.W.L.s near the lake, Scorpius tapped the side of his nose three times.
Albus cheerily responded. “Nope, no can do. Not interested,” he said with a smile. Frank looked rather disappointed. “All right, mate,” he said. He then turned to Scorpius, and feeling triumphant, Scorpius sent him quite a dazzling smile. Frank frowned.
The next day a group of first years approached Albus, bright smiles on their small chubby faces. “Is your dad really Harry Potter? Is he really brave? What was it like to live with him?” One boy with big blond curls spoke up. “We want to be just like him when we get older. What do you think? Do you think we have the chops to vanquish Dark Lords?”
Scorpius pulled on his hair, hard.
“I'm so sorry,” Albus responded, his face very serious. “I do hope things turn out better for you.”
The first years looked very confused and the boy in the curls looked like he was about to cry. Scorpius grabbed Albus' arm and steered him toward the Great Hall.
As they were leaving dinner, suddenly Rachel, a curvy Ravenclaw a few inches taller than both Scorpius and Albus, stepped in front of them. Rachel was the girl at Hogwarts. The boys practically drooled when she walked by. She never dated anyone at Hogwarts, and the latest rumour was that she had found herself an older lover who would send her diamond watches and gave her the gaudy hoop earrings she wore every day.
“Hello, Albus,” she said, completely ignoring Scorpius.
“I was wondering,” the girl purred, a strand of hair curling around her finger, “if you would like to go with me to Hogsmeade.”
Albus gave Scorpius a panicked look. He didn't know what she was asking.
Scorpius tapped the side of his nose once and smiled, waiting for the reaction.
Albus nodded and then turned to the girl, giving her a shy smile and digging his hands inside his pocket. “Sorry, um, no?”
The girl stopped twirling her hair, her eyes turned glossy, but she firmed her chin, sighed, and then walked away.
“Was she doing what I think she was doing?” Albus asked, the side of his mouth upturned. He approached Scorpius and stood close by him, angling his ear so he could hear Scorpius' response.
“If you think she was asking for your notes, then you would be correct,” Scorpius said, unsure why he was lying about it. Shouldn't he gloat, crow about how he so easily was able to manipulate Albus to say what he wanted him to say?
“She was asking me out again, wasn't she?” Albus laughed. “I think she's asked me to every Hogsmeade visit this year and my answer is always the same. How did you know I would want to turn her down?”
Scorpius, flustered that his plan wasn't working exactly right, said nothing.
“You smiled when you told me to tell her no. You took pleasure in that, didn't you?” Albus chided. Scorpius squirmed inside his robe.
“You do know why I turn all the girls down, don't you?” Albus said, his eyes looking directly into Scorpius'. Scorpius' eyes went wide. What was Albus trying to say? He didn't want to go out with girls? He didn't like girls? Didn't every boy their age like girls? Most of the male species in Hogwarts could do little else but talk, and think, and fantasize about girls. The boys in his room in the Slytherin dorms would spend hours talking late into the night about different girls in the school. They had written out a list comparing breast size of all the girls in fifth to seventh year and had plastered it on their shared bathroom mirror. Scorpius just didn't participate because he didn't find any of the girls in Hogwarts particularly attractive. They were all vapid, shallow, and travelled in packs that, to Scorpius, resembled roving packs of hyenas. But he liked girls, he thought. He was pretty sure he did. He just hadn't met one he liked yet. Right?
Abruptly, Albus' face changed. It was an expression Scorpius had never seen before. It was similar to a cat discovering a helpless canary. It instantly put Scorpius on edge. He began to walk faster toward the library, his gaze firmly fixed to the stone floor beneath him. The oriental runners were quite nice. Scorpius wondered how old they were and how they stayed looking so new. Did the elves have to fix them by hand? Rugs like these couldn't be fixed by magic. Magic couldn't work with such a delicate material. With time, rugs edges tended to fray, and when that happened, the strands would need to be sewed back together, paying close attention to the colour pattern.
A hand grabbed hold of Scorpius' robe yanking him out of his reverie. “Are you all right Scorpius?” Albus said with a low voice that seemed to curl around Scorpius' stomach. “You look a bit flushed.”
“I'm perfectly fine,” Scorpius stated, brushing Albus' hand off his arm. “The girls in Hogwarts are silly twits. I get it. No need to explain things to me.”
Albus smiled. “So you're okay, with me, you know, not liking girls?”
Scorpius bit the inside of his cheek. Albus was gay? Most of the girls in the school had a crush on him. Did anyone else know? Information like that could never remain a secret for long. He must not have told anyone, or only told those closest to him. When did he know? How did he know? Scorpius could feel the palms of his hands sweat. He swallowed, but his mouth was dry.
“I...,” Scorpius started, but shut his mouth, unsure what to say next. How should he respond? He looked up and was caught be the intensity in Albus' eyes. What did Albus want him to say? He looked, desperate, actually, as if he needed to hear what Scorpius thought of him, thought of him being gay.
“I'm okay,” Scorpius said, finally. “I'm not really a fan of girls myself, actually.”
Albus advanced. “I don't think you quite understood what I'm trying to say,” Albus replied, pressing closer into Scorpius' personal space. Scorpius looked madly around; hoping no one else was seeing the two of them talking so closely. Scorpius turned his head back toward Albus and surprisingly Albus was right in front of his face.
“You don't have to stand so close,” Scorpius said, averting his eyes. “Just put your hearing aid in.”
“You know,” Albus laughed to himself. “I can't seem to understand a word any girl says, but when you talk, I hear every word.”
Scorpius felt the tips of his ears go red. “That's because I'm one of the only people in this school that bothers to enunciate.”
“I always thought you had such a pretty mouth,” Albus said, staring directly at Scorpius' lips.
“What?” Scorpius said in surprise. His heart was beating loudly in his chest. “You're not making any sense.”
“Why don't you date any girls, Scorpius?” Albus asked, his eyes still firmly planted on Scorpius' lips.
“You really think a girl would be willing to go out with a Death Eater spawn like me?” Scorpius replied, attempting to push Albus away, but Albus just pushed back against Scorpius’ hands.
“You're quite attractive. I think you could have girls eating out of the palm of your hand, if you wanted them to.”
Scorpius scoffed. “Even if I did, the girls here are...”
His words were interrupted by soft lips touching his. Considering how forcefully Albus had been speaking for the last few moments, the lips were surprisingly timid. Scorpius wasn't sure what he was supposed to do at that moment. His palms were sweating, his breath was laboured. There was no sound in the hallway, and all Scorpius could see was Albus' closed eyelids, making Scorpius a bit cross-eyed.
Tentatively, Scorpius puckered out his lips just enough to feel what Albus' lips really tasted like. This was his first kiss, after all, and even if it wasn't with anyone he thought he would share his first kiss with, Scorpius thought he should at least participate enough to know what was going on.
There was a sensation from the bottom of Scorpius' toes that gradually increased, stretching out to his fingertips. The hands he had used to push Albus away now itched to pull him in closer. He curled in him fingers and caught a bit of Albus' robe. He could feel Albus underneath the black wool, could feel the energy coming off his chest.
Their lips did not move, just skin on skin. Scorpius wanted to change that, suddenly felt the need to feel more, taste more. He moved his bottom lip and pressed it around Albus'.
That action seemed to surprise Albus and he jumped back, ending the kiss. He lifted his hand to his lips as his eyes grew wide. Scorpius' lips felt suddenly alone and his hands had nowhere to go.
“I'm sorry, Scorpius,” Albus whispered underneath his hands. “I didn't mean to kiss you.” He started to back away from Scorpius, walking backward down the hall. “I just got so wrapped up in everything.”
And then he fled, leaving Scorpius angry and confused, his face flush, leaning against the cold stone wall. A painting across from Scorpius winked at him. Scorpius sent a Stinging Hex, but it didn't make him feel any better.
~*~
The next day, Scorpius reluctantly went to the library to their spot, unsure if Albus would show or not. Surprisingly, the shaggy-haired boy was already there, idly thumbing through the pages of one of his textbooks and chewing on the end of his quill.
Scorpius dumped his bag onto the table, causing a loud banging sound.
Albus looked up, his eyes wide. “You came.”
Scorpius swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat. He didn't think he would be this angry, or hurt. “We have ten feet of parchment due in Herbology. I knew you would need my help.
Albus rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I'm really sorry, about yesterday. I sort of freaked out. You'll forget about it, right?”
Scorpius closed his eyes and willed his mind to forget everything about that incident. Albus didn't mean it. Didn't mean to take away Scorpius' first kiss. Didn't mean to use and abuse Scorpius at every turn. It probably wasn't Albus' first kiss at all. He probably did it to tease Scorpius, make him think he wanted to be with him in more than a tutor/student type way.
“Let's just study,” Scorpius eked out.
Albus' face instantly cleared and his smile returned. “Yeah, thank goodness. I'm glad you understand.”
Scorpius couldn't look at him.
For the next few days, Scorpius continued to tutor Albus per usual and Albus acted as he always did as if nothing had ever happened. That burned Scorpius even more. When Scorpius wrote a bit too hard on the parchment or threw his bag over his shoulder with too much force, Albus never noticed. Scorpius knew exactly which fingernail Albus always bit and which leg he favoured, but Albus couldn't be arsed to notice that Scorpius was angry.
Scorpius needed to take his revenge soon. Deep inside him was something that yearned to lash out. Their mock friendship had gone on long enough.
~*~
As always, food at Hogwarts was not up to snuff. Scorpius had already begun to count the days until summer when the Manor and his father would be waiting for him with fresh scones and clotted cream. His fellow classmates did not share Scorpius' disdain for the Hogwarts cuisine, filling their mouths until they burst, Albus included. Glancing over at the Gryffindor table, Scorpius saw that Albus was using his hands to shovel a large treacle tart down his throat, crumbs falling all over his robes. Scorpius' mind instantly returned to the kissing incident. He clenched his fists underneath the table.
Interrupting the din of the Great Hall, Headmistress Brown, her scarred face half hidden underneath the hood of her robe, rapped loudly against her podium and cleared her throat. Her face was grave and her hands shook just slightly. Intrigued, Scorpius turned to listen.
“Tonight, I regret whole heartedly the news I am about to share. Sometime last night, quietly in her cottage, Professor McGonagall passed away. For many of you, Professor McGonagall is just a name in the history books, a former professor, a war hero, but to me, and for many of your parents, she was a mentor and a friend. Former Head of House for Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall was a fierce warrior with a kind heart and a sharp eye. She kept a watchful eye out for her lion cubs, and all other students, in times of great peril, including the great Harry Potter.”
Hearing Harry Potter's name, Scorpius couldn't help but turn to Albus to see his reaction to the news. Scorpius should have realized sooner that Albus would not have been able to hear what was going on, but he did expect the boy to be at least paying attention. Instead, Albus was still elbow deep into his treacle tart, even smiling at Scorpius with food still in his mouth.
Scorpius smiled back, without thought, when suddenly, his stomach jumped.
This, this was the moment that Scorpius had been waiting for since first year.
“Most of your parents were once students of Professor McGonagall and for many of you, your parents felt her direct protection. The Lovegoods, the Patils, the Weasleys and the Potters, all of you, I know, feel this loss very deeply.”
Silently, with just a slight scratch of Scorpius chin, the plan began.
Seeing the gesture, Albus perked up and began to laugh, as if someone had just told a good joke.
“Per her wishes, Professor McGonagall will be laid to rest here, on the school grounds, near the students she loved deeply. Friends and relatives will begin to arrive tonight and tomorrow. There will be no classes tomorrow and I encourage all of you to attend the service.”
Scorpius scratched his chin again, this time for a longer duration. Albus laughed harder.
“I owe my life to Professor McGonagall. As many of you know, I was a student here during the Great War, and as a Gryffindor, I was targeted by the Death Eaters while they ran the school. Many of you have heard of Dumbledore's Army and know that I was a member. Under the noses of our occupiers, we hid several students within the walls of Hogwarts, but we could not have been successful as we were without the help of Professor McGonagall secretly sending us tips on who was next in line to receive the Carrows' wrath.”
Scorpius scratched, Albus laughed.
“For those that knew her well, and for those that only knew her as their Professor, all walked away with fond memories and a strong grasp of Transfiguration. Please, let us pause for a moment of silence in remembrance.”
As if covered with ice, Scorpius raised his arm slowly from the table and gently with the tip of his finger scratched a deep thick line down his right chin.
While the Great Hall paused, more silent than a mouse, Albus Potter's laugh rang out, bouncing against the wooden walls.
Everyone's head turned, their mouths open, aghast at Albus' behaviour. His eyes never leaving Scorpius', Albus continued to laugh, completely unaware of the other’s stares.
Scorpius revelled.
His body zinged with a fantastic sensation that began at his toes and lifted all the way to the top of his head.
Albus Potter had just humiliated himself in front of the entire school at the hands of Scorpius Malfoy.
Suddenly cottoning on to what was going on around him, Albus' laughter died down. With a confused look, Albus began to look about the room, finally noticing the stares from his fellow classmates. He looked at Rose who had her hand over her mouth in shock. He looked at James, whose hands were forming tight fists. Finally, Albus looked back at Scorpius. With full realization, Albus' confused face turned to devastation. He rose from the table, his eyes never leaving Scorpius', and then fled.
It was glorious, it was marvellous, it was better than chocolate and scones and Scorpius' first kiss. It was a moment Scorpius would remember for the rest of his life.
And it only lasted ten seconds.
Rose, a smart girl, turned violently around in her seat and pointed at Scorpius, yelling, “It's his fault! It has to be. It's a spell, a curse. Scorpius cursed him to laugh!”
A frenzy shot through the Great Hall. The students were all pointing and shouting, throwing out accusations, jeers, slurs, some rising from their seats in excitement and anger.
Professor Slughorn had risen from the teachers table in the front and was making his way toward Scorpius, a very stern look on his face.
Scorpius rose quickly.
“I did nothing,” he shouted. “My wand was never used.”
“So you are admitting to using a Potion,” replied Professor Slughorn.
“Of course not,” Scorpius insisted, backing up for each step Professor Slughorn took toward him.
“Everyone settle down!” Headmistress Brown shouted from her podium in a very loud voice. The room quieted. Professor Slughorn stopped his advance.
“Professor Slughorn, return to your seat. Students, sit down and continue with your dinner.”
All did as they were told. Professor Slughorn reluctantly turned around, although not before sneering at Scorpius. The students all sat down, but they did not eat, they just remained staring at Scorpius, silently accusing him.
“And as for you, Scorpius Malfoy.”
Scorpius swallowed.
“Tomorrow, we will discuss exactly what happened. Until then, you will remain in your room, alone, to reflect on your actions.”
Headmistress Brown snapped her fingers and suddenly a rather large house-elf was standing beside Scorpius.
“Wonky will escort you to your room to make sure you do as you are told.”
Scorpius tightened his jaw and narrowed his eyes. He was old enough to walk to his rooms by himself. There was no need for such theatrics.
“And one more thing, Mister Malfoy. I must add that I hoped that you would not live to follow in your father's footsteps, but it seems I was mistaken. You are just like your father, Scorpius Malfoy. Nothing better than a bully.”
Scorpius pushed forward, ready to defend himself and his father, but the house-elf grabbed hold of his arm and suddenly he was in his room, alone.
Scorpius turned toward the house-elf just in time to see him leave the room, slamming the door behind him.
~*~
After tearing the room apart, breaking picture frames and tearing through sheets, Scorpius was now resting on his bed, exhausted, his brain itching with thoughts and plans that all were fruitless and inept.
Tossing in his bed, Scorpius turned his face into his pillow. He screamed until his throat grew hoarse.
This was not how things were supposed to happen!
Feeling desperate and unsure, Scorpius suddenly jumped out of his bed and went digging through his trunk. He pulled out a black moleskin journal and jumped back into his bed, shutting the curtains firmly around him.
Scorpius ran his fingers along the soft moleskin cover. He flipped through the pages, passing a few pictures of his peacocks, the Manor gardens, his bedroom, and then the detail picture of the train compartment, the one he was drawing when he first met Albus.
After that were blank pages, the yellow parchment empty, waiting to be filled.
And then, after five or so, the sketches continued, the lines more sure, the technique more mature.
Without real thought as to why, Scorpius had picked up sketching again, usually when he was bored, waiting for Albus to finish studying in the library. Since there was little else to look at, the subject matter was always the same, except with a different concentration for each sketch.
First were Albus' hands, wide and sure. Albus had a lined scar on the back of his left hand that could only be seen underneath the right lighting. His knuckles were large and stuck out. There were small black hairs that stuck out of the tops of each finger. He held his quill in a fist and tended to bend his wrist when he wrote in an awkward angle.
The next sketch was of the nape of Albus' neck. He had a set of three dark freckles in the shape of a triangle, the right one the darkest of the three. Albus liked to leave his hair shaggy, so the ends tended to cover at least one of the freckles up, but the day Scorpius decided to sketch Albus, they were all miraculously uncovered. His neck was long, bent over his books. The lines were clean and easy to draw.
The last sketch was of Albus' lips. They were thick, with a slight crack on the top right side. They had the most perfect shape, almost symmetrical except for a slight downturn on the left side.
It was right after they had shared their kiss. Scorpius couldn't help but be aware of Albus' lips.
Scorpius frantically flipped to a blank page, pulling out the pencil that was attached. Rather than sketch, Scorpius began to write, furiously.
After filling several pages in his journal, Scorpius ripped out the pages and folded them neatly, closing them shut with a wax.
Pulling his robe shut he stormed out of his room, the house-elf hot on his tail.
“It's a letter of apology,” Scorpius cried out to the house elf. “Tell the Headmistress I've reflected on my actions and that I will politely wait for my father to come pick me up after I send out this letter.”
The house-elf disappeared, leaving Scorpius alone as he headed toward the Owlery.
The halls were thankfully empty and dark, perfect for Scorpius mood. He was on a mission he knew would not succeed, but he had to try, he had to make once last stupid attempt.
In his letter, Scorpius confessed everything, how he felt on the train, how he felt about his family and the weight left on his shoulders. He admitted to watching Albus, since first year, always plotting some way of revenge. He talked of the day Albus fell, how it made him feel. And how, at that moment, something had sparked inside him that even now Scorpius didn't understand. He then began to apologize, grovel, in written form, for Albus' forgiveness. But he didn't expect it. In fact, he wasn't sure if he deserved it. But Albus deserved to know the truth, know that Scorpius felt deep shame for what he had done. And that Scorpius was willing to take full responsibility, knowing that it would be the end of any hope of Scorpius and the Malfoys regaining their reputation and for Scorpius and Albus to ever be friends again.
Scorpius couldn't get to the Owlery fast enough. Once outside, he began to run, the evening cooling his hot skin. Once he reached the steps, he took them two at a time, his hands holding firm to the stone sides.
About half way up the twisting stone steps, something hit the back of Scorpius' legs. It was such a shock that Scorpius cried out, and then, his legs gave way. He attempted to reach out, to grab hold of the sides, but he was struck again, and soon he was falling, back first, down the stairs.
His back hit first, hard. He heard a crunch and his body seized. And then it went black.
~*~
Scorpius stared at the ceiling. It was mostly dark except for a small candle that filled the ceiling with pockets of light that flickered in and out. A tiny moth flapped around, following the changing light, constantly caught in the dark and moving just in time for the light to move again.
He felt affinity for that moth, he did, but all he wanted to do was reach out and smash the insect, taking it out of its misery.
He closed his eyes. The lights continued to flicker behind his eyelids. He squished his lids shut tight until the light was completely snuffed out.
“I know you're awake.”
Scorpius attempted to turn his head to see who had spoken, but a searing pain ran through his side. A hand grabbed hold of his and squeezed.
“Don't try to move. You broke a vertebra in your spine. It's growing back now, but it takes some time.”
The voice was muffled, as if Scorpius was hearing the voice through a tube, and some of the words were garbled. He tried to respond, but his lips just wouldn't move.
“Along with your spine, you broke your right arm and your hip. You're going to be stuck in bed for a while until everything grows back, and then there might be a limp.”
Was it his father? It didn't sound like his father, but who else would be at his bedside? And the hand holding his so tightly was much larger.
He knew that hand.
“I was so angry, Scorpius, about what you did to me, how you betrayed me. I just,” there was a pause, “reacted.”
Scorpius' eyes went wide. If he could move or scream he would have, but he was stuck on a hospital bed, vulnerable.
But Albus did nothing but squeeze Scorpius' hand.
“I'm in love with you,” Albus stated calmly. “And I know you love me too.” Scorpius choked. “Your letter said as much, although you are ridiculously confused about it. But don't worry, so was I, at first.”
Scorpius closed his eyes. His heart was racing and suddenly the room became uncomfortably hot.
“I never explained to you why I refused your hand on the train. I was so angry at the things you said that I just let you believe that I didn't want to be your friend because you were a Malfoy. But in truth, I just was surprised. Surprised that you didn't know my name.”
Albus continued. “Everyone on that train knew my name, knew my family. Everyone, from pure-bloods to Muggle-borns wanted to befriend me, not because of who I was, but because who my father was. You, Scorpius, were the only person to be nice to me because of me. And then you had to screw it all up with the things you said.”
Scorpius' stomach turned.
“But I forgive you. And you will forgive me. That is how this will go.”
Suddenly there was a screeching of metal against tile then the side of the hospital bed was pressed down. Albus was climbing up onto the bed!
“Hush, I'm not coming to hurt you,” Albus commanded. “It's late and I'm exhausted. We're sleeping now.”
Albus pulled up the blanket and pushed himself beside Scorpius, carefully minding Scorpius' body. He laid himself flush against him, gently throwing an arm over Scorpius' chest and laying his head on Scorpius shoulder.
“Don't worry, this isn't the arm that's broken.”
Albus then lifted himself up slightly over Scorpius, their faces a mere breath away. Scorpius stared straight into Albus' green eyes that glowed in the candlelight.
Albus bent down and met Scorpius lips softly, his eyes still open.
They remained like that for a few seconds, Albus warm breath upon Scorpius lips, until Scorpius, using all the strength he could muster, opened his mouth just slightly, allowing Albus to kiss him properly.
After a few seconds, Albus withdrew his lips and went back to his position on Scorpius' shoulder.
“Your father is asleep in one of the other beds. My father insisted he sleep, even demanded he take a sedative. In the morning, they will ask you who did this to you. If anything I said was untrue, feel free to tell them who did this to you. I wouldn't blame you for wanting revenge.”
There was a slight pause and then, “I'm wearing the hearing aid all the time now. I told my brother, and Rose, about it. Rose told me she already knew but was waiting for me to tell her, but James had been clueless about it. I should have listened to you when you said to wear it. You know, had I actually followed your advice you wouldn't have been able to do what you did. Isn't that just a strange thought?”
At that Albus stopped speaking. Scorpius listened to his breathing, at first heavy and fast, and then, as time progressed, the time between the breaths grew longer and longer.
Scorpius stared up at the ceiling again, watching the moth dance across it.
His father would insist that Scorpius recover back at the Manor. Scorpius could take his O.W.L.s. at home with a Ministry appointed representative. It would be spring. The cherry trees would be blossoming, the house-elves would begin opening the windows, allowing the spring breeze the run through the hallways, and the peacocks would all be out, enjoying the warmer weather. The new generation would be there as well, following their mothers and hiding underneath her feathers.
Scorpius licked his dry lips. On his tongue sat the faint taste of treacle tart.
Perhaps Albus would enjoy meeting the peacocks. He had seemed interested before.
He would invite Albus to stay, for the summer. It was decided.
His relationship with Albus had started as a tiny tree seedling buried deep in the ground, but the misunderstandings and mistrust had made it twist and turn as it grew. It had grown into a tall poisonous tree and the apple that Scorpius had carefully groomed for Albus to eat had been offered back to Scorpius, like Eve offering the fruit of knowledge to Adam.
Scorpius watched the moth make its way toward the source of the light and closed his eyes right before the moth's wings were sure to be burned.
~The End~