Fic: Drawing It Out [PG-13]
Author: kimberry531
Title: Drawing It Out
Pairing(s): Al/Scorpius; Al/OFC
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: homosexuality, bisexuality, mild teenage “cheating”, a lot of Neville, and a lot of plants ;)
Word Count: 11,054
Summary: When Al and Scorpius get paired together for the Herbology term project, neither is very pleased. The Combibo Combula is known for drawing out the poison from a wizard in need, but the boys’ research finds it capable of much more. Their findings could leave them famous - but things never go smoothly when you mix a Potter and Malfoy. It’s no secret that Scorpius swings “that way”, but when he starts getting the warm fuzzies over Al Potter, something’s got to give. You see, Al’s straight. Or at least, that’s what his girlfriend says.
Prompt: #21 Submitted by hollys_tree
Notes: A few thank you’s - firstly, to my favorite Eagle, who set a timer to go off every fifteen minutes night after night to make sure I was focusing on this instead of playing on Facebook. Secondly, to my favorite Badger for being a sounding board since day one. And lastly, but SO not least-ly ;), to my favorite Lion for the beta job. <3
Drawing It Out
“-and then the wizard shouted a spell, and the dragon flew away in a rage. Knowing he had limited time before the dragon returned, the wizard hurried into the tower. He blasted away the wall, not having time to reach the door, and brandishing his wand -.”
“Dad?” Benny reached up and shut the book. “I’m tired. I don’t want to finish the story.”
Feeling himself flush, Neville put the book on the floor and nudged it under the bed with his foot. “Are you sure, Benny? We can read something else -“
“I’m just tired.” Benny rolled over, his back to Neville.
With a heavy sigh, Neville reached over and turned off the lamp - an electric one - and then rested his hand on his small son’s shoulder.
“I love you, Benny,” he said solemnly, “no matter who or what you are.”
Benny didn’t answer, instead lying as still as possible. Grimacing, Neville pushed to his feet and headed out into the dimly lit hallway, closing his son’s door behind him.
“Not the best choice of story, perhaps,” Hannah said quietly from where she’d been listening.
Neville looked on the floor. “I don’t always have the best judgment,” he admitted.
Hannah smiled and placed a cool palm on his cheek. “We’ll get through this,” she said. “All of us, even Benny. You’re doing a wonderful job, bedtime stories aside. Benny knows we love him - with or without magic.”
Neville looked at his son’s closed door and felt the guilt course through him as he imagined what the small boy had felt hearing a story about a wizard running headlong into danger, wand at the ready, when this was something he could never do. Just as grace escaped Neville, and sometimes numbers escaped his slender wife, magic escaped their son, running just far enough under his skin that it couldn’t be pulled to the surface, couldn’t be called upon. Ever.
*****
Scorpius Malfoy had been “disowned” exactly three times in his first sixteen years of life.
The first time was when he was six and announced at breakfast that he and his best friend Trevor Birch were getting married that day during Free Play at Little Wizards Primary School and that they, his parents, were cordially invited. His mother had begun sobbing over her Eggs Benedict. Scorpius didn’t remember her saying anything about disowning him, but he did remember his father picking him up and carrying him upstairs to the master bedroom and setting him down on the lush green comforter. Draco had gotten down on his knees and looked Scorpius in the eyes.
“Your mother didn’t mean what she said,” he said solemnly. “You will always be our son and we will both always love you. Do you understand?”
When Scorpius had nodded, Draco had stood again and brushed off his trousers. “Now then,” he continued, “what should I wear to the big event?”
The second time was when Scorpius was eleven years old and he got sorted into Gryffindor. He’d held it together until everyone had gone to bed and he’d Floo Called his parents and completely lost it.
“A Gryffindor?” Astoria had sneered. “No son of mine will walk around in red and gold. I suppose you’ll start breaking rules and charging off to fight dragons now.”
When Draco took his turn at the fire, he found his son to be a sobbing, hiccupping mess.
“I don’t want to be a foolish Gryffindor! I don’t want adventures and danger. I don’t like rushing into things. I’m not hot-headed. Please, Dad, tell them the hat was wrong,” Scorpius had begged through his tears.
Draco had been silent for a moment. “It would be a lie to say I hadn’t expected and hoped you’d be a Slytherin,” he admitted. “But this isn’t the end of the world. At least it wasn’t Hufflepuff, right?”
Scorpius had sobbed harder.
“Listen to me, Son,” Draco said firmly. “Being foolish and being Gryffindor are only synonymous if you’re a Potter. You may not be a fool, but you’re chivalrous. You have a strong sense of right and wrong. You’re stubborn. You’re passionate. You are unapologetic about who and what you are. Being a Gryffindor is something you can be proud of. You’re brave, Scorpius, and I do not underestimate that in you. You shouldn’t either.”
Scorpius sniffled. “But Mum is right,” he bemoaned. “I look positively horrid in red.”
“We’ll take your uniform and have the shade altered,” Draco mused, eyeing his son’s complexion. “A nice burgundy might suit you.”
The third and final (so far) time was when Scorpius was fifteen and he’d told the divorce attorney that he absolutely preferred to be in his father’s custody. After the meeting as Astoria had stalked towards the fireplace to Floo home to her new penthouse, stilettos clicking against the cold tile floor, Scorpius had reached for her.
“Mum,” he said, feeling his blood run cold.
“I am no one’s mum,” she said without looking at him. “I have no son.”
This time, Draco had no words of wisdom. He only wrapped his arms around his son and for once didn’t reprimand him for crying in public.
*****
Like his father, Al Potter preferred to be at Hogwarts over his home. At home being one of the oldest but not quite the oldest was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing in that he could more or less do as he pleased without it being noticed. It was a curse for the same reason - his achievements flew under the radar along with his vices. Plus, there was all the unpaid babysitting he had to do.
Ever since James, eighteen now, had left for Wizarding Uni in London, Al and Lily were left in charge. Lily was fourteen now, the twins Remy and Nicole were twelve, and the baby, Olivia, was nine. Al played Mum to the little ones so often that for a laugh Lily had bought him an apron for Christmas last year.
But school - school was a different world. At school we wasn’t “Mum”, he was Al Potter: Slytherin Seeker, star dueler, and boyfriend of the hottest witch Hogwarts had ever seen - Katherine Gates, Ravenclaw.
Al Potter believed a lot of things. He believed that the less you said, the better. He believed in sex on the first date, that muggle alcohol was far superior to its wizarding counterparts, that Lucy DeMayo’s tits were about as real as turtlebears, and that a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich could cure all ills. He believed that sleeping in was a waste of time, that the stars held secrets, that all girls were evil at their core, and that someday, the world over would know his name - and not in conjugation with his father’s.
*****
It all started in Herbology. Professor Longbottom lined the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins against one wall of the Greenhouse. On the work tables in the center were several large potted plants.
“Two people per plant,” he explained, his excitement almost tangible. “You’ll research the plant - its properties (both physical and magical), its uses, anything you can find. You must also keep the plant alive. At the end of the term you will present your findings. I will grade you as a team based on what you’ve discovered, the quality of your presentation, and on your plant’s health.”
“So basically,” one of the Slytherins called out, “we have to keep the plant alive and research it.”
The whole room heard what was unsaid - this was too easy.
“Sure,” Professor Longbottom shrugged. “Keeping the plant alive and giving a basic presentation of its common uses and whatnot will give you a passing grade.”
“If that’s just passing,” Scorpius found himself asking, “then how do you receive top marks?”
Professor Longbottom bounced just a little - Scorpius was sure of it. “Aha,” he said gleefully, “that’s the question, isn’t it? Here’s the catch - at the end of the term, the three most stellar, ground-breaking presentations will take a trip to Durmstang to compete against their students in the Uncommon Herbology Competition.”
“The uck?” Al Potter asked, one eyebrow raised.
“No,” Professor Longbottom said sternly. “The U.H.C.”
“It sounds like uck.”
“See me after class, Mr. Potter. Now, in this hat there are many slips of parchment. They each hold a number between one and twenty. There are two of each number. These numbers will decide your plant and your partner. Please send the hat along the line. No trading numbers.”
A groan went around the class as the cap was passed along. Scorpius fished around and plucked a parchment, and passed it on.
4.
Four. With a sigh, he headed to the fourth plant and waited for his partner to be decided. While he waited, he glanced down at the name of the plant - Combibo combula.
‘Sounds fantastic,’ he thought, and didn’t notice who stalked forward to drop their books a mere centimeter from his own hand until it happened.
“Ouch,” he said, even though the books hadn’t hit him, and looked up to find Al Potter’s furious green eyes staring at him from a foot away.
“Uh,” Scorpius managed, “you for four, too?”
“I,” Al said, still furious, “hate Herbology. And now Uncle Nev is going to Floo my Mum and tell her I’ve been mouthing off again and I’m going to get a fucking Howler tomorrow. Yes, I got four. What’s your name again?”
Scorpius blinked. “Uncle Nev?” he asked, baffled.
Potter waved a hand at him dismissively. “Your name isn’t Uncle Nev, you tit. Isn’t it something to do with the zodiac? Capricornus? Hercules?”
“Hercules isn’t in the zodiac…” Scorpius said uncertainly.
“Leo!” Al snapped his fingers. “It’s Leo, isn’t it? Leo…” he snapped his fingers again, as if that would magically bring Scorpius’s surname to mind.
“Malfoy,” Scorpius said finally. “And it’s Scorpius, not Leo. I’m much less hot-headed.”
“Right, right,” Al nodded, staring blankly at the plant. “Scorpius Malfoy. I think I remember dad saying - never mind. Anyway, I’m Albus Potter, but I prefer Al.”
“I know,” Scorpius said absently, and then flushed. They both looked away awkwardly until Al cleared his throat.
“So,” he said, shuffling his feet a little. “Combibo Combula. You know anything about it?”
The plant looked similar to a small holly tree - the leaves and berries were arranged similarly. However, the stem was a deep purple, the leaves were a light pink, and the berries were a deep green.
“No,” Scorpius said, fingering one of the leaves gently. “Should we check in the text for starters?”
“Yeah,” Al said, nodding, “let’s do that.”
Scorpius flipped his textbook open to the index. “Combibo…. Combula… page… three forty-two.” He began flipping pages until he found the correct one.
“Here we go,” he said, and pointed at the words, following with his index finger as he read aloud, “’The Combibo Combula is a Brazilian mini-tree which sports green berries.’”
“Because we couldn’t have figured that out,” Al rolled his eyes.
Scorpius continued. “’The berries act the same as Bezoars, and can heal most known poisons instantly upon ingestion. The leaves can be ground and made into a tea or paste, both of which are used for healing purposes.’ Okay, so it’s a healing plant. That’s easy.”
“Cheers, we done for now then?” Al asked, glancing at his watch. Everyone was packing up as class was nearing its end.
“For now,” Scorpius said slowly, closing his text. “But we’re going to need to do a lot more research. Should we meet in the library tonight and see what we can find?”
Al rolled his eyes and Scorpius felt his blood boil. “Tomorrow, maybe?” Al suggested. “I mean, how much more do we really need to find out? We know what each part of it is!”
Scorpius scowled. “Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow.” But in his mind he was already listing the things they’d need to know - what made the plant thrive, what other uses it had, who had discovered it and how it had been used through history - and that was only the tip of the iceberg.
*****
Al flopped onto a couch in the Slytherin common room. Katherine, whom he had told the dungeon’s password despite that she was a Ravenclaw, looked up from another couch.
“Rough morning?” she asked, getting up and coming over to perch on the edge of the couch.
“Yes,” Al grumbled. “I’m in trouble with Nev, and this Herbology project is way too intense.”
“Herbology? Intense?” Katherine raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Don’t you usually just… do enough to get by with subjects like that? The ones that don’t matter?”
“Yeah, usually,” Al said darkly. “But this is a partner thing and I’ve been paired with that berk Malfoy, and he’s dead-set on winning -“
“Winning what?” Katherine asked, pushing the hair off of Al’s forehead affectionately.
Al swatted her hand away agitatedly. “Whoever has the most ground-breaking presentation presents it at the U.H.C. in Durmstrang. So he’s being all serious business about it. He even asked to meet in the library tonight to research.”
Katherine frowned. “Wow. That’s… unusual for a Gryffindor. They’re usually much more laid-back about schoolwork. Why d’you reckon he cares so much?”
Al shrugged. “Because he’s a boring bloke, I suppose. Dad and Uncle Ron have never said anything good about the Malfoys. Probably trying to bring honor back to the family or some shit like that.”
“Hmm,” Katherine mused. “Maybe you should humor him? Like, get a lot of research done early and he’ll be pleased and leave you alone after that?”
“I don’t even know how to begin researching something,” Al grumbled looking up at the ceiling.
“Well,” Katherine said, “you could ask Professor Longbottom. And apologize, while you’re at it. Maybe he won’t owl your Mum?”
*****
Scorpius closed and locked his dormitory door behind him. Making sure his roommate wasn’t there, he kneeled down and pulled a small box out from under his bed. It was a rich mahogany, and the top was lined with emeralds and jade in various shapes and sizes. He whispered the spell to open it and pulled out a stack of papers. He rifled through them until he found the one he wanted.
Rolling into his belly, he spread the newspaper clipping out on the floor.
‘The Uncommon Herbology Department Gives Bloom to New Leadership’, the article blazed, and below it was a picture of his mother, smiling tightly at the camera, her hair pulled back into a slick, professional ponytail.
He put a finger to her face and watched as she smiled and blinked again - again- again. Finally he folded the article back up and slid the box back under his bed. He stood and gathered some parchment and a few quills and headed straight down to the library.
It was almost closing time and the lights were dimming as a warning, but Scorpius didn’t care. He’d stay all night if he had to. The library was deserted, so he set his things down and began perusing the shelves for a title which might help him. As he wandered down the aisle, he became aware of a scritching noise coming from around the corner. He peered through the bookshelf and he could make out a figure hunched over an open book and a piece of parchment, but he couldn’t see any details.
He rounded the corner casually, as if he just happened to be wandering along that way and had no idea someone was sitting there, and was shocked into stillness.
“Potter?” he asked, and Al looked up sharply, almost guiltily.
“Oh,” he sighed, relaxing. “It’s you. Hullo.”
“What are you doing?” Scorpius asked, noticing that Al had several books piled around him.
“Researching our plant,” Al said. “What does it look like?”
“I thought you didn’t care?” Scorpius challenged.
Al shrugged. “The sooner we get our data, the sooner I can stop thinking about it.”
Scorpius closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Well,” he said, before sitting in the chair next to Al and opening a book, “at least you’re helping.”
*****
“As today is the first of the month,” Professor Longbottom announced on the first day of October, “I will be going around through the groups to see what you’ve done so far. Please wait quietly until it is your turn to speak with me.”
Scorpius turned and looked at that plant. It had grown a little since they had first received it, and seemed to be sprouting berries at a steady pace.
“Thank Merlin,” Albus grouched. “Now he can tell us we’ve exceeded his bloody expectations and we can stop thinking about the damn plant until December.”
Scorpius scowled. “Can you at least pretend to care about this? I’m aiming to win, and it’d be fantastic if I didn’t have to do that on my own.”
“It’s a fucking Herbology competition,” Al hissed. “What does it bloody matter?”
“It matters a lot!” Scorpius replied hotly.
Al shook his head. “You take this way too seriously,” he muttered.
Scorpius exhaled furiously, but let it drop. He’d come to find during the past month that he had to pick his battles with Al, or he’d be in a constant state of agitation - heated cheeks, pulse racing… though if he were being completely honest, that happened around Al even when they weren’t bickering.
‘Stop that,’ he scolded himself mentally. ‘He’s a git, so I’m just going to halt that little thought right there and quit while I’m ahead.’
‘Also,’ a little voice in his head chimed, ‘there’s the part where he has a girlfriend.’
Scorpius scowled even more darkly as Professor Longbottom came their way.
He’d first noticed his attraction to Al one of the first nights they’d researched together in the library. In the dim lighting, surrounded by texts and no sound other than the scratches of quill on parchment, Scorpius had grown familiar and comfortable with the quiet energy of Al. There was something comforting about his presence, something that made Scorpius feel safe. Then Al would open his mouth and say something like, “Maybe we should try feeding the plant to Flobberworms and see if they explode,” and the feeling would vanish.
After one of their research sessions - a productive one, Scorpius had uncovered who had discovered the plant and when - Al had walked Scorpius back to Gryffindor territory. Instead of turning to head down to the dungeon like normal, he turned left and continued to keep in stride with Scorpius towards the tower.
Scorpius found himself fighting off a blush, and fighting off a pleased butterfly feeling even more, and said, “You don’t have to walk me back, y’know. I’m not a girl.”
“I’m heading up to Ravenclaw to stay with Katherine,” Al had said. “Gryffindor is on my way.”
“I see,” Scorpius said evenly, and clenched his jaw. Back in his room he punched his pillow, furious at himself for feeling any semblance of jealousy. His stomach churned as his mind conjured up images of what Al and Katherine were doing right then. That’s when he knew. He was done for.
The thing was, he wasn’t sure why he liked Al. Al wasn’t really all that… well, he wasn’t very nice. He was a bit of a partier, he had that hussy of a girlfriend, and he was more likely to mock you than support you. Still, Scorpius felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame. It was proving to be a dangerous game.
Al had caught Scorpius staring at him in class once. Scorpius had thought he was being stealthy as he imagined raking his hands through Al’s messy hair, waking up to those sparkling green eyes, rubbing noses before kissing those perfect lips, nuzzling his face against Al’s. But, apparently, he was not being quite as stealthy as he thought.
“Malfoy?” Al had asked, waving a hand in front of Scorpius’s face. “Where is your head right now, mate?”
“Sorry,” Scorpius said quickly, snapping out of it. “Just zoned out, y’know. Head in the clouds, that’s me!” He chuckled nervously, and coughed to cover up how awkward it had sounded.
Presently, Professor Longbottom strode towards them, looking eager.
“Hello, gentlemen,” he said amiably. “What have you got to show me?”
“The Combibo Combula,” Al said, pushing the plant towards his Professor.
“It looks very healthy,” Professor Longbottom said, turning over a few leaves. “What has your research found?”
Scorpius pulled out the parchment where they’d been recording the data about the plant. He rattled off what they’d found - its uses in tea, in a paste, raw, in foods, in potions; how it was discovered and by whom; famous witches and wizards who were alive only because of the plant; and the physical properties - such as it only bloomed under a waning quarter moon, and if the berries were red they’d been touched by a unicorn and were extra potent.
Al and Scorpius looked at their Professor hopefully. Instead of showering them with praise, he shook his head.
“It’s a solid start,” Professor Longbottom said. “But it’s hardly enough, now is it? I want ground-breaking.”
“But what about the part about Deirdre the Dominator?” Al asked incredulously. “I bet you didn’t know that!”
“It was nice research, Albus,” Professor Longbottom soothed. “But let’s see what else you can uncover. I did, in fact, know about Deirdre - I want you to teach me something about this plant that I don’t know. Okay? Keep up the good work.”
“Bugger,” Al grumbled. “Now what do we do?”
*****
“Merlin,” Katherine giggled. “That Malfoy bloke is so weird.”
“He’s not so bad,” Al said off-handedly, not looking up from the book he was reading - they had a Potions exam that morning and he was trying to cram.
“No, really,” Katherine persisted. “Look at him. He’s staring us down.”
Sighing, Al raised his eyes. Scorpius was sitting at the Gryffindor table, facing them, his breakfast untouched as he stared blankly towards the Slytherins. Upon realizing Al and Katherine were looking, he started and looked back down at his table. He began rapidly eating his eggs, a blush working up his neck and across his cheeks.
“Holy shit,” Al breathed. “He fancies you!”
“What?” Katherine gasped. “What are you on about?”
“He does,” Al said, eyes still on the blond. “He was just sitting there, eyes all burning with jealousy. I know that look. He is completely besotted with you!”
“Al, he doesn’t know me,” Katherine argued.
“But look at you,” Al said, flapping a hand at her. “Any guy with eyes would be crazy about you. I can’t believe I didn’t figure this out sooner. Watch.”
He cupped Katherin’e cheek gently with one hand and kissed her. She responded and he deepened the kiss, tipping her slightly backwards, and she grasped his arms tightly.
“Get a room,” one of the Slytherins quipped and they broke apart, both smiling.
“Look,” Al whispered, and sure enough, Scorpius was hurrying out of the Great Hall, head bowed. “See you later,” Al said to Katherine, grabbing his bag and hurrying after Scorpius.
“Malfoy!” he called as he hurried to catch up. “Oy, slow down you twat!”
Scorpius walked faster, turning a corner.
“Malfoy!” Al called again, trying his best not to break into an actual run. “For fuck’s sake, Scorpius, slow down!”
Finally, he did. “What?” he demanded, rounding on Al furiously. “What do you want?”
For a moment, Al was taken aback by how hard Scorpius seemed, how angry; he was used to Scorpius’s content, gentle nature.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“That’s why you followed me?” Scorpius sneered. “Bugger off, Potter.” He turned and started to walk away, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder.
“I know why you left,” Al taunted, and Scorpius halted, turning back around to face him.
“Oh, do you?” Scorpius asked flatly. “And why’s that?”
“You fancy Katherine,” Al declared. Scorpius laughed, the sound sharp, echoing around them like a crack of lightning.
“You’re wrong, mate,” he said, shaking his head slowly.
“I’m not, though,” Al continued confidently. “I mean, who wouldn’t fancy her, she’s fit and smart and -.”
“I don’t fancy your bloody girlfriend.”
“You keep lying to yourself, mate,” Al said solemnly. “I saw you this morning. You couldn’t stand seeing me with her. I get it. But I’m warning you - back off. I don’t share.”
Scorpius gave an elaborate roll of the eyes. “You’re mental,” he said. “Absolutely fucking mental. I don’t fancy her! I don’t even like women.”
Al looked at him blankly. “What?”
“I’m gay, Al,” Scorpius said, lowering his voice. “It’s not exactly a secret. I will never be interested in Katherine.”
“But,” Al said slowly, thinking as he spoke, “I saw you just now. You were so jealous. Why were you so upset if you’re gay?”
“Not only mental, you’re also stupid,” Scorpius scoffed, and moved to leave again.
A stillness came over Al. “Are you saying…?”
Scorpius sighed. “Relax. I’m not going to make a pass at you or anything. I get that you’re, y’know, straight. And taken. So just… let it go.”
This time when he turned to leave, Al let him.
*****
“Hey, cutie,” Al chirped, making kissy lips at Scorpius as he passed in the hallway.
“Fuck off and die,” Scorpius snapped.
“It’s just a joke, mate,” Al said. He shook his head with a laugh and continued on his way.
“Wait,” Scorpius said. “My Dad’s meeting me in Hogsmeade this weekend for lunch. He told me to invite you and your parents. He wants to hear us talk about the U.H.C.”
“Oh,” Al said. “Sure. I’ll owl home and see if anyone can. I’ll let you know.”
*****
“I was rather hoping I’d get to see the Weaslette again after all these years,” Draco said dryly, pretending to eye his cuticles as he watched Potter for a reaction.
“She’s taking our youngest shopping for the day,” Harry said evenly. “But I’ll send her your regards.”
Scorpius shifted uneasily. To his right, Al was rubbing his foot up and down Scorpius’s calf.
‘I’m going to bloody kill you, you piece of shit,’ Scorpius hissed out of a corner of his mouth and Al laughed around a mouthful of Butterbeer, coughing and choking.
“Merlin, Albus,” Harry said reproachfully.
“S-sorry,” Al hacked.
Scorpius grinned down at his own mug.
“Anyway,” Draco said, eyeing his son suspiciously, “tell me about your project, Scorpius.”
“It’s not that exciting yet,” Scorpius said, struggling to keep the grin from his face as Al struggled to get air to his lungs again. “I’m not sure what it is Professor Longbottom wants us to find.”
“Longbottom,” Draco sneered. “Why they let that oaf teach in a school, I’ll never know. Seems like they haven’t raised their standards a bit since Hagrid, wouldn’t you say Potter?”
“Neville is a renowned herbologist,” Harry seethed. “He’s more than capable of teaching the class.”
“I’ve always felt that he knew the material quite well,” Scorpius offered tentatively.
Draco harrumphed.
“Anyway,” Harry continued through narrowed eyes, “he’s a load better than those Death Eaters someone let into the school. The Carrows? As if they knew their subjects. Who let them in, again? Oh, yes. That was you.”
Draco launched himself across the table.
“Wow,” Al said fifteen minutes later as they helped the barmaid wipe up the spills, the elder Potter and Malfoy having Apparated to their separate homes, “I didn’t know our dads had such a controversial history.”
“I didn’t know my dad had such a nice right hook,” Scorpius replied, and they both laughed.
“Well, now what?” Al asked awkwardly.
“I guess I’ll just go back to the castle,” Scorpius shrugged. “I smell like Butterbeer and I think I got some in my hair.”
“I have to buy Katherine a birthday present, if you’d like to come along,” Al offered. With a wink, he added, “I think you smell beautiful, precious.”
“Kiss my arse, Potter,” Scorpius snapped, but he was smiling in spite of himself.
“I’m completely hopeless at this,” Al admitted. “Girls are mysterious creatures. You’ll never have the misfortune of finding that out, you lucky sod.”
“You’ve got chocolate, you’ve ordered flowers to be delivered by Owl…” Scorpius mused. “Now you need one good thing, something really personal and special. What does she like?”
“Me,” Al said. When Scorpius only pursed his lips in annoyance, he looked up defensively. “No, really!”
“Well let’s just have you pop out of a cake then,” Scorpius said with an eyeroll. “You really can’t tell me something she likes?”
“I don’t know,” Al muttered. “She reads Witch Weekly a lot….”
“That’s all you’ve got?” Scorpius asked, one eyebrow arched. “You are hopeless. Come on, I’ll help.”
He led Al to a jewelers. “There,” he said, pointing through the glass at the many items. “What do you think she’d like?”
“That one,” Al said almost immediately and Scorpius followed his gaze to find a sapphire necklace set on a silver chain. “It’s Ravenclaw colors… and her eyes…”
“Alright, Romeo,” Scorpius said dryly. “I get the idea. You have enough for that?”
Al scoffed. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m made of money.”
By the time they headed back to Hogwarts, it was already dark.
“Winter’s coming,” Scorpius said darkly. “It’s not that late.”
“I know a shortcut back, if it makes you nervous being out in the dark,” Al offered.
Scorpius considered it for a minute. “Sure,” he said finally. “Let’s go.”
Al led him off of the normal path and off to the left. “This way,” he said, taking out his wand. ‘Lumos.’
“Through the forest?” Scorpius said, voice trembling. “Uh, maybe I’d rather -“
“I go this way all the time,” Al said. “Are you a Gryffindor or aren’t you?”
“How long is this ‘short-cut’?” Scorpius muttered. “We’d have been back by now on the normal route.”
“Get off my case,” Al grumbled. “I might have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”
“You got us lost in the Forbidden Forest?” Scorpius shrieked.
“Shut up,” Al hissed urgently, but it was too late. Growls emitted from the darkness around them.
“We’re in the fucking Forbidden Forest at night alone. Why would you make that much noise?” Al seethed, looking around frantically. “Come on, we need to move fast.” He placed his wand on his palm. “Point me,” he whispered, and the wand spun. When it slowed, he tugged on Scorpius’s sleeve. “This way,” he said. Scorpius didn’t budge. “Scorpius, come on -“
Scorpius, rooted in place, began to tremble. Al took in his wide eyes and paled face and turned around.
Crouched behind him, teeth bared, was a Drapel - a leopard which could turn into wisps of smoke and reappear in solid form, surprising its prey. Al was at chin level to the giant beast; its eyes, teeth, and claws reflected their wand light back in their faces.
“Fucking run!” Al yelled, grabbing Scorpius’s elbow and taking off into the thick of the woods. Behind them, the Drapel turned into smoke and reappeared to their right, charging right at them.
“Stupefy!” Scorpius bellowed, and the mosnter faltered, rubbing its nose with a dog-sized paw. They kept running, shooting various spells over their shoulders.
“We don’t - even - know - where - we’re going!” Scorpius managed to shout as they ducked around tree trunks and hopped over gnarled roots.
“That - won’t - matter - if we’re - dead!” Al yelled back. “Keep running!”
The drapel appeared in front of them, snarling and salivating wildly.
“Fuck,” Scorpius gasped.
With a growl, it sprang forward and swiped at Scorpius. He flew backwards through the air, hitting a tree and slumping on the ground, where he didn’t move.
“Scorpius!” Al gasped, watching the blood pool in the dirt under his friend. “Oh fuck. Stupefy!”
The creature stalked towards him, unfazed by his spells. Al rushed to Scorpius and shook his shoulders frantically.
“Come on, Scorpius, help me, stun him, we need to do it together,” Al cried. “Stupefy!”
Scorpius rolled so that his wand faced the creature. “Stupefy,” he croaked.
“It’s not enough,” Al cried, half sobbing, half panting. “Come on, stay awake! Try again!”
Slowly, strangely, the air around them began to glow slightly, shimmering dust rising up to meet them. Al looked around wildly, certain that some creature was coming to his rescue.
The drapel growled again and came a step closer, its tail switching madly. Ignoring the strange glowing, Al cried out again - “Stupefy!”
He felt something deep within him, under his skin, seem to swell. His magic rose up, so powerful that his arm shook uncontrollably in an effort to keep his aim. His stunning spell connected and shot the drapel down. The glimmering vanished, and Al collapsed on the ground next to Scorpius, feeling the magic that had moments ago pumped through his veins like blood settle back down.
“Scorp,” he whispered. There was no answer.
“Oh, shit,” he said hopelessly, and rolled Scorpius over to assess the wound. A single claw had left a gash down his left shoulder towards his chest - close to his heart.
“Fuck,” he cried. He looked around wildly. He had no idea where to go or how to get Scorpius to help in time. He pulled out his wand again. “Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I can handle this. Point me.” When it pointed a direction, he lifted Scorpius off of the ground and flung his limp body over his shoulder, noting absently that they seemed to have landed next to some of their Herbology plant - Combibo Cumbula.
Staggering under Scorpius’s dead weight, and heart staggering under the idea of losing him, he made his way through the forest.
“A concussion from hitting the tree, and the drapel’s claw wound. Both easily fixed,” the Headmaster said to Al, who sat white-faced next to Scorpius’s bed in the Hospital Wing.
“I’m sorry,” Al managed. “It was a short-cut, I take it all the time. I took a wrong turn, we ended up on the wrong side of the forest.”
“I won’t be taking disciplinary action this once,” the Headmaster said, “but if I find out that you’re continuing to use this short-cut of yours, there will be no more warnings.”
“Thank you, sir,” Al said miserably.
“Are you going to bed, Albus?” the Headmaster asked as the Nurse dimmed the lights.
“I’ll just be another minute, sir,” Al said quietly. The Headmaster took his leave; Al took Scorpius’s hand and bent his forehead to it.
“Fuck,” Al whispered hoarsely, and without warning felt his body heave with a single dry sob.
On the crisp, white sheets, Scorpius’s hand tightened against his.
Part 2
Title: Drawing It Out
Pairing(s): Al/Scorpius; Al/OFC
Rating: Pg-13
Warnings: homosexuality, bisexuality, mild teenage “cheating”, a lot of Neville, and a lot of plants ;)
Word Count: 11,054
Summary: When Al and Scorpius get paired together for the Herbology term project, neither is very pleased. The Combibo Combula is known for drawing out the poison from a wizard in need, but the boys’ research finds it capable of much more. Their findings could leave them famous - but things never go smoothly when you mix a Potter and Malfoy. It’s no secret that Scorpius swings “that way”, but when he starts getting the warm fuzzies over Al Potter, something’s got to give. You see, Al’s straight. Or at least, that’s what his girlfriend says.
Prompt: #21 Submitted by hollys_tree
Notes: A few thank you’s - firstly, to my favorite Eagle, who set a timer to go off every fifteen minutes night after night to make sure I was focusing on this instead of playing on Facebook. Secondly, to my favorite Badger for being a sounding board since day one. And lastly, but SO not least-ly ;), to my favorite Lion for the beta job. <3
Drawing It Out
“-and then the wizard shouted a spell, and the dragon flew away in a rage. Knowing he had limited time before the dragon returned, the wizard hurried into the tower. He blasted away the wall, not having time to reach the door, and brandishing his wand -.”
“Dad?” Benny reached up and shut the book. “I’m tired. I don’t want to finish the story.”
Feeling himself flush, Neville put the book on the floor and nudged it under the bed with his foot. “Are you sure, Benny? We can read something else -“
“I’m just tired.” Benny rolled over, his back to Neville.
With a heavy sigh, Neville reached over and turned off the lamp - an electric one - and then rested his hand on his small son’s shoulder.
“I love you, Benny,” he said solemnly, “no matter who or what you are.”
Benny didn’t answer, instead lying as still as possible. Grimacing, Neville pushed to his feet and headed out into the dimly lit hallway, closing his son’s door behind him.
“Not the best choice of story, perhaps,” Hannah said quietly from where she’d been listening.
Neville looked on the floor. “I don’t always have the best judgment,” he admitted.
Hannah smiled and placed a cool palm on his cheek. “We’ll get through this,” she said. “All of us, even Benny. You’re doing a wonderful job, bedtime stories aside. Benny knows we love him - with or without magic.”
Neville looked at his son’s closed door and felt the guilt course through him as he imagined what the small boy had felt hearing a story about a wizard running headlong into danger, wand at the ready, when this was something he could never do. Just as grace escaped Neville, and sometimes numbers escaped his slender wife, magic escaped their son, running just far enough under his skin that it couldn’t be pulled to the surface, couldn’t be called upon. Ever.
*****
Scorpius Malfoy had been “disowned” exactly three times in his first sixteen years of life.
The first time was when he was six and announced at breakfast that he and his best friend Trevor Birch were getting married that day during Free Play at Little Wizards Primary School and that they, his parents, were cordially invited. His mother had begun sobbing over her Eggs Benedict. Scorpius didn’t remember her saying anything about disowning him, but he did remember his father picking him up and carrying him upstairs to the master bedroom and setting him down on the lush green comforter. Draco had gotten down on his knees and looked Scorpius in the eyes.
“Your mother didn’t mean what she said,” he said solemnly. “You will always be our son and we will both always love you. Do you understand?”
When Scorpius had nodded, Draco had stood again and brushed off his trousers. “Now then,” he continued, “what should I wear to the big event?”
The second time was when Scorpius was eleven years old and he got sorted into Gryffindor. He’d held it together until everyone had gone to bed and he’d Floo Called his parents and completely lost it.
“A Gryffindor?” Astoria had sneered. “No son of mine will walk around in red and gold. I suppose you’ll start breaking rules and charging off to fight dragons now.”
When Draco took his turn at the fire, he found his son to be a sobbing, hiccupping mess.
“I don’t want to be a foolish Gryffindor! I don’t want adventures and danger. I don’t like rushing into things. I’m not hot-headed. Please, Dad, tell them the hat was wrong,” Scorpius had begged through his tears.
Draco had been silent for a moment. “It would be a lie to say I hadn’t expected and hoped you’d be a Slytherin,” he admitted. “But this isn’t the end of the world. At least it wasn’t Hufflepuff, right?”
Scorpius had sobbed harder.
“Listen to me, Son,” Draco said firmly. “Being foolish and being Gryffindor are only synonymous if you’re a Potter. You may not be a fool, but you’re chivalrous. You have a strong sense of right and wrong. You’re stubborn. You’re passionate. You are unapologetic about who and what you are. Being a Gryffindor is something you can be proud of. You’re brave, Scorpius, and I do not underestimate that in you. You shouldn’t either.”
Scorpius sniffled. “But Mum is right,” he bemoaned. “I look positively horrid in red.”
“We’ll take your uniform and have the shade altered,” Draco mused, eyeing his son’s complexion. “A nice burgundy might suit you.”
The third and final (so far) time was when Scorpius was fifteen and he’d told the divorce attorney that he absolutely preferred to be in his father’s custody. After the meeting as Astoria had stalked towards the fireplace to Floo home to her new penthouse, stilettos clicking against the cold tile floor, Scorpius had reached for her.
“Mum,” he said, feeling his blood run cold.
“I am no one’s mum,” she said without looking at him. “I have no son.”
This time, Draco had no words of wisdom. He only wrapped his arms around his son and for once didn’t reprimand him for crying in public.
*****
Like his father, Al Potter preferred to be at Hogwarts over his home. At home being one of the oldest but not quite the oldest was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing in that he could more or less do as he pleased without it being noticed. It was a curse for the same reason - his achievements flew under the radar along with his vices. Plus, there was all the unpaid babysitting he had to do.
Ever since James, eighteen now, had left for Wizarding Uni in London, Al and Lily were left in charge. Lily was fourteen now, the twins Remy and Nicole were twelve, and the baby, Olivia, was nine. Al played Mum to the little ones so often that for a laugh Lily had bought him an apron for Christmas last year.
But school - school was a different world. At school we wasn’t “Mum”, he was Al Potter: Slytherin Seeker, star dueler, and boyfriend of the hottest witch Hogwarts had ever seen - Katherine Gates, Ravenclaw.
Al Potter believed a lot of things. He believed that the less you said, the better. He believed in sex on the first date, that muggle alcohol was far superior to its wizarding counterparts, that Lucy DeMayo’s tits were about as real as turtlebears, and that a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich could cure all ills. He believed that sleeping in was a waste of time, that the stars held secrets, that all girls were evil at their core, and that someday, the world over would know his name - and not in conjugation with his father’s.
*****
It all started in Herbology. Professor Longbottom lined the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins against one wall of the Greenhouse. On the work tables in the center were several large potted plants.
“Two people per plant,” he explained, his excitement almost tangible. “You’ll research the plant - its properties (both physical and magical), its uses, anything you can find. You must also keep the plant alive. At the end of the term you will present your findings. I will grade you as a team based on what you’ve discovered, the quality of your presentation, and on your plant’s health.”
“So basically,” one of the Slytherins called out, “we have to keep the plant alive and research it.”
The whole room heard what was unsaid - this was too easy.
“Sure,” Professor Longbottom shrugged. “Keeping the plant alive and giving a basic presentation of its common uses and whatnot will give you a passing grade.”
“If that’s just passing,” Scorpius found himself asking, “then how do you receive top marks?”
Professor Longbottom bounced just a little - Scorpius was sure of it. “Aha,” he said gleefully, “that’s the question, isn’t it? Here’s the catch - at the end of the term, the three most stellar, ground-breaking presentations will take a trip to Durmstang to compete against their students in the Uncommon Herbology Competition.”
“The uck?” Al Potter asked, one eyebrow raised.
“No,” Professor Longbottom said sternly. “The U.H.C.”
“It sounds like uck.”
“See me after class, Mr. Potter. Now, in this hat there are many slips of parchment. They each hold a number between one and twenty. There are two of each number. These numbers will decide your plant and your partner. Please send the hat along the line. No trading numbers.”
A groan went around the class as the cap was passed along. Scorpius fished around and plucked a parchment, and passed it on.
4.
Four. With a sigh, he headed to the fourth plant and waited for his partner to be decided. While he waited, he glanced down at the name of the plant - Combibo combula.
‘Sounds fantastic,’ he thought, and didn’t notice who stalked forward to drop their books a mere centimeter from his own hand until it happened.
“Ouch,” he said, even though the books hadn’t hit him, and looked up to find Al Potter’s furious green eyes staring at him from a foot away.
“Uh,” Scorpius managed, “you for four, too?”
“I,” Al said, still furious, “hate Herbology. And now Uncle Nev is going to Floo my Mum and tell her I’ve been mouthing off again and I’m going to get a fucking Howler tomorrow. Yes, I got four. What’s your name again?”
Scorpius blinked. “Uncle Nev?” he asked, baffled.
Potter waved a hand at him dismissively. “Your name isn’t Uncle Nev, you tit. Isn’t it something to do with the zodiac? Capricornus? Hercules?”
“Hercules isn’t in the zodiac…” Scorpius said uncertainly.
“Leo!” Al snapped his fingers. “It’s Leo, isn’t it? Leo…” he snapped his fingers again, as if that would magically bring Scorpius’s surname to mind.
“Malfoy,” Scorpius said finally. “And it’s Scorpius, not Leo. I’m much less hot-headed.”
“Right, right,” Al nodded, staring blankly at the plant. “Scorpius Malfoy. I think I remember dad saying - never mind. Anyway, I’m Albus Potter, but I prefer Al.”
“I know,” Scorpius said absently, and then flushed. They both looked away awkwardly until Al cleared his throat.
“So,” he said, shuffling his feet a little. “Combibo Combula. You know anything about it?”
The plant looked similar to a small holly tree - the leaves and berries were arranged similarly. However, the stem was a deep purple, the leaves were a light pink, and the berries were a deep green.
“No,” Scorpius said, fingering one of the leaves gently. “Should we check in the text for starters?”
“Yeah,” Al said, nodding, “let’s do that.”
Scorpius flipped his textbook open to the index. “Combibo…. Combula… page… three forty-two.” He began flipping pages until he found the correct one.
“Here we go,” he said, and pointed at the words, following with his index finger as he read aloud, “’The Combibo Combula is a Brazilian mini-tree which sports green berries.’”
“Because we couldn’t have figured that out,” Al rolled his eyes.
Scorpius continued. “’The berries act the same as Bezoars, and can heal most known poisons instantly upon ingestion. The leaves can be ground and made into a tea or paste, both of which are used for healing purposes.’ Okay, so it’s a healing plant. That’s easy.”
“Cheers, we done for now then?” Al asked, glancing at his watch. Everyone was packing up as class was nearing its end.
“For now,” Scorpius said slowly, closing his text. “But we’re going to need to do a lot more research. Should we meet in the library tonight and see what we can find?”
Al rolled his eyes and Scorpius felt his blood boil. “Tomorrow, maybe?” Al suggested. “I mean, how much more do we really need to find out? We know what each part of it is!”
Scorpius scowled. “Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow.” But in his mind he was already listing the things they’d need to know - what made the plant thrive, what other uses it had, who had discovered it and how it had been used through history - and that was only the tip of the iceberg.
*****
Al flopped onto a couch in the Slytherin common room. Katherine, whom he had told the dungeon’s password despite that she was a Ravenclaw, looked up from another couch.
“Rough morning?” she asked, getting up and coming over to perch on the edge of the couch.
“Yes,” Al grumbled. “I’m in trouble with Nev, and this Herbology project is way too intense.”
“Herbology? Intense?” Katherine raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Don’t you usually just… do enough to get by with subjects like that? The ones that don’t matter?”
“Yeah, usually,” Al said darkly. “But this is a partner thing and I’ve been paired with that berk Malfoy, and he’s dead-set on winning -“
“Winning what?” Katherine asked, pushing the hair off of Al’s forehead affectionately.
Al swatted her hand away agitatedly. “Whoever has the most ground-breaking presentation presents it at the U.H.C. in Durmstrang. So he’s being all serious business about it. He even asked to meet in the library tonight to research.”
Katherine frowned. “Wow. That’s… unusual for a Gryffindor. They’re usually much more laid-back about schoolwork. Why d’you reckon he cares so much?”
Al shrugged. “Because he’s a boring bloke, I suppose. Dad and Uncle Ron have never said anything good about the Malfoys. Probably trying to bring honor back to the family or some shit like that.”
“Hmm,” Katherine mused. “Maybe you should humor him? Like, get a lot of research done early and he’ll be pleased and leave you alone after that?”
“I don’t even know how to begin researching something,” Al grumbled looking up at the ceiling.
“Well,” Katherine said, “you could ask Professor Longbottom. And apologize, while you’re at it. Maybe he won’t owl your Mum?”
*****
Scorpius closed and locked his dormitory door behind him. Making sure his roommate wasn’t there, he kneeled down and pulled a small box out from under his bed. It was a rich mahogany, and the top was lined with emeralds and jade in various shapes and sizes. He whispered the spell to open it and pulled out a stack of papers. He rifled through them until he found the one he wanted.
Rolling into his belly, he spread the newspaper clipping out on the floor.
‘The Uncommon Herbology Department Gives Bloom to New Leadership’, the article blazed, and below it was a picture of his mother, smiling tightly at the camera, her hair pulled back into a slick, professional ponytail.
He put a finger to her face and watched as she smiled and blinked again - again- again. Finally he folded the article back up and slid the box back under his bed. He stood and gathered some parchment and a few quills and headed straight down to the library.
It was almost closing time and the lights were dimming as a warning, but Scorpius didn’t care. He’d stay all night if he had to. The library was deserted, so he set his things down and began perusing the shelves for a title which might help him. As he wandered down the aisle, he became aware of a scritching noise coming from around the corner. He peered through the bookshelf and he could make out a figure hunched over an open book and a piece of parchment, but he couldn’t see any details.
He rounded the corner casually, as if he just happened to be wandering along that way and had no idea someone was sitting there, and was shocked into stillness.
“Potter?” he asked, and Al looked up sharply, almost guiltily.
“Oh,” he sighed, relaxing. “It’s you. Hullo.”
“What are you doing?” Scorpius asked, noticing that Al had several books piled around him.
“Researching our plant,” Al said. “What does it look like?”
“I thought you didn’t care?” Scorpius challenged.
Al shrugged. “The sooner we get our data, the sooner I can stop thinking about it.”
Scorpius closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Well,” he said, before sitting in the chair next to Al and opening a book, “at least you’re helping.”
*****
“As today is the first of the month,” Professor Longbottom announced on the first day of October, “I will be going around through the groups to see what you’ve done so far. Please wait quietly until it is your turn to speak with me.”
Scorpius turned and looked at that plant. It had grown a little since they had first received it, and seemed to be sprouting berries at a steady pace.
“Thank Merlin,” Albus grouched. “Now he can tell us we’ve exceeded his bloody expectations and we can stop thinking about the damn plant until December.”
Scorpius scowled. “Can you at least pretend to care about this? I’m aiming to win, and it’d be fantastic if I didn’t have to do that on my own.”
“It’s a fucking Herbology competition,” Al hissed. “What does it bloody matter?”
“It matters a lot!” Scorpius replied hotly.
Al shook his head. “You take this way too seriously,” he muttered.
Scorpius exhaled furiously, but let it drop. He’d come to find during the past month that he had to pick his battles with Al, or he’d be in a constant state of agitation - heated cheeks, pulse racing… though if he were being completely honest, that happened around Al even when they weren’t bickering.
‘Stop that,’ he scolded himself mentally. ‘He’s a git, so I’m just going to halt that little thought right there and quit while I’m ahead.’
‘Also,’ a little voice in his head chimed, ‘there’s the part where he has a girlfriend.’
Scorpius scowled even more darkly as Professor Longbottom came their way.
He’d first noticed his attraction to Al one of the first nights they’d researched together in the library. In the dim lighting, surrounded by texts and no sound other than the scratches of quill on parchment, Scorpius had grown familiar and comfortable with the quiet energy of Al. There was something comforting about his presence, something that made Scorpius feel safe. Then Al would open his mouth and say something like, “Maybe we should try feeding the plant to Flobberworms and see if they explode,” and the feeling would vanish.
After one of their research sessions - a productive one, Scorpius had uncovered who had discovered the plant and when - Al had walked Scorpius back to Gryffindor territory. Instead of turning to head down to the dungeon like normal, he turned left and continued to keep in stride with Scorpius towards the tower.
Scorpius found himself fighting off a blush, and fighting off a pleased butterfly feeling even more, and said, “You don’t have to walk me back, y’know. I’m not a girl.”
“I’m heading up to Ravenclaw to stay with Katherine,” Al had said. “Gryffindor is on my way.”
“I see,” Scorpius said evenly, and clenched his jaw. Back in his room he punched his pillow, furious at himself for feeling any semblance of jealousy. His stomach churned as his mind conjured up images of what Al and Katherine were doing right then. That’s when he knew. He was done for.
The thing was, he wasn’t sure why he liked Al. Al wasn’t really all that… well, he wasn’t very nice. He was a bit of a partier, he had that hussy of a girlfriend, and he was more likely to mock you than support you. Still, Scorpius felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame. It was proving to be a dangerous game.
Al had caught Scorpius staring at him in class once. Scorpius had thought he was being stealthy as he imagined raking his hands through Al’s messy hair, waking up to those sparkling green eyes, rubbing noses before kissing those perfect lips, nuzzling his face against Al’s. But, apparently, he was not being quite as stealthy as he thought.
“Malfoy?” Al had asked, waving a hand in front of Scorpius’s face. “Where is your head right now, mate?”
“Sorry,” Scorpius said quickly, snapping out of it. “Just zoned out, y’know. Head in the clouds, that’s me!” He chuckled nervously, and coughed to cover up how awkward it had sounded.
Presently, Professor Longbottom strode towards them, looking eager.
“Hello, gentlemen,” he said amiably. “What have you got to show me?”
“The Combibo Combula,” Al said, pushing the plant towards his Professor.
“It looks very healthy,” Professor Longbottom said, turning over a few leaves. “What has your research found?”
Scorpius pulled out the parchment where they’d been recording the data about the plant. He rattled off what they’d found - its uses in tea, in a paste, raw, in foods, in potions; how it was discovered and by whom; famous witches and wizards who were alive only because of the plant; and the physical properties - such as it only bloomed under a waning quarter moon, and if the berries were red they’d been touched by a unicorn and were extra potent.
Al and Scorpius looked at their Professor hopefully. Instead of showering them with praise, he shook his head.
“It’s a solid start,” Professor Longbottom said. “But it’s hardly enough, now is it? I want ground-breaking.”
“But what about the part about Deirdre the Dominator?” Al asked incredulously. “I bet you didn’t know that!”
“It was nice research, Albus,” Professor Longbottom soothed. “But let’s see what else you can uncover. I did, in fact, know about Deirdre - I want you to teach me something about this plant that I don’t know. Okay? Keep up the good work.”
“Bugger,” Al grumbled. “Now what do we do?”
*****
“Merlin,” Katherine giggled. “That Malfoy bloke is so weird.”
“He’s not so bad,” Al said off-handedly, not looking up from the book he was reading - they had a Potions exam that morning and he was trying to cram.
“No, really,” Katherine persisted. “Look at him. He’s staring us down.”
Sighing, Al raised his eyes. Scorpius was sitting at the Gryffindor table, facing them, his breakfast untouched as he stared blankly towards the Slytherins. Upon realizing Al and Katherine were looking, he started and looked back down at his table. He began rapidly eating his eggs, a blush working up his neck and across his cheeks.
“Holy shit,” Al breathed. “He fancies you!”
“What?” Katherine gasped. “What are you on about?”
“He does,” Al said, eyes still on the blond. “He was just sitting there, eyes all burning with jealousy. I know that look. He is completely besotted with you!”
“Al, he doesn’t know me,” Katherine argued.
“But look at you,” Al said, flapping a hand at her. “Any guy with eyes would be crazy about you. I can’t believe I didn’t figure this out sooner. Watch.”
He cupped Katherin’e cheek gently with one hand and kissed her. She responded and he deepened the kiss, tipping her slightly backwards, and she grasped his arms tightly.
“Get a room,” one of the Slytherins quipped and they broke apart, both smiling.
“Look,” Al whispered, and sure enough, Scorpius was hurrying out of the Great Hall, head bowed. “See you later,” Al said to Katherine, grabbing his bag and hurrying after Scorpius.
“Malfoy!” he called as he hurried to catch up. “Oy, slow down you twat!”
Scorpius walked faster, turning a corner.
“Malfoy!” Al called again, trying his best not to break into an actual run. “For fuck’s sake, Scorpius, slow down!”
Finally, he did. “What?” he demanded, rounding on Al furiously. “What do you want?”
For a moment, Al was taken aback by how hard Scorpius seemed, how angry; he was used to Scorpius’s content, gentle nature.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
“That’s why you followed me?” Scorpius sneered. “Bugger off, Potter.” He turned and started to walk away, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder.
“I know why you left,” Al taunted, and Scorpius halted, turning back around to face him.
“Oh, do you?” Scorpius asked flatly. “And why’s that?”
“You fancy Katherine,” Al declared. Scorpius laughed, the sound sharp, echoing around them like a crack of lightning.
“You’re wrong, mate,” he said, shaking his head slowly.
“I’m not, though,” Al continued confidently. “I mean, who wouldn’t fancy her, she’s fit and smart and -.”
“I don’t fancy your bloody girlfriend.”
“You keep lying to yourself, mate,” Al said solemnly. “I saw you this morning. You couldn’t stand seeing me with her. I get it. But I’m warning you - back off. I don’t share.”
Scorpius gave an elaborate roll of the eyes. “You’re mental,” he said. “Absolutely fucking mental. I don’t fancy her! I don’t even like women.”
Al looked at him blankly. “What?”
“I’m gay, Al,” Scorpius said, lowering his voice. “It’s not exactly a secret. I will never be interested in Katherine.”
“But,” Al said slowly, thinking as he spoke, “I saw you just now. You were so jealous. Why were you so upset if you’re gay?”
“Not only mental, you’re also stupid,” Scorpius scoffed, and moved to leave again.
A stillness came over Al. “Are you saying…?”
Scorpius sighed. “Relax. I’m not going to make a pass at you or anything. I get that you’re, y’know, straight. And taken. So just… let it go.”
This time when he turned to leave, Al let him.
*****
“Hey, cutie,” Al chirped, making kissy lips at Scorpius as he passed in the hallway.
“Fuck off and die,” Scorpius snapped.
“It’s just a joke, mate,” Al said. He shook his head with a laugh and continued on his way.
“Wait,” Scorpius said. “My Dad’s meeting me in Hogsmeade this weekend for lunch. He told me to invite you and your parents. He wants to hear us talk about the U.H.C.”
“Oh,” Al said. “Sure. I’ll owl home and see if anyone can. I’ll let you know.”
*****
“I was rather hoping I’d get to see the Weaslette again after all these years,” Draco said dryly, pretending to eye his cuticles as he watched Potter for a reaction.
“She’s taking our youngest shopping for the day,” Harry said evenly. “But I’ll send her your regards.”
Scorpius shifted uneasily. To his right, Al was rubbing his foot up and down Scorpius’s calf.
‘I’m going to bloody kill you, you piece of shit,’ Scorpius hissed out of a corner of his mouth and Al laughed around a mouthful of Butterbeer, coughing and choking.
“Merlin, Albus,” Harry said reproachfully.
“S-sorry,” Al hacked.
Scorpius grinned down at his own mug.
“Anyway,” Draco said, eyeing his son suspiciously, “tell me about your project, Scorpius.”
“It’s not that exciting yet,” Scorpius said, struggling to keep the grin from his face as Al struggled to get air to his lungs again. “I’m not sure what it is Professor Longbottom wants us to find.”
“Longbottom,” Draco sneered. “Why they let that oaf teach in a school, I’ll never know. Seems like they haven’t raised their standards a bit since Hagrid, wouldn’t you say Potter?”
“Neville is a renowned herbologist,” Harry seethed. “He’s more than capable of teaching the class.”
“I’ve always felt that he knew the material quite well,” Scorpius offered tentatively.
Draco harrumphed.
“Anyway,” Harry continued through narrowed eyes, “he’s a load better than those Death Eaters someone let into the school. The Carrows? As if they knew their subjects. Who let them in, again? Oh, yes. That was you.”
Draco launched himself across the table.
“Wow,” Al said fifteen minutes later as they helped the barmaid wipe up the spills, the elder Potter and Malfoy having Apparated to their separate homes, “I didn’t know our dads had such a controversial history.”
“I didn’t know my dad had such a nice right hook,” Scorpius replied, and they both laughed.
“Well, now what?” Al asked awkwardly.
“I guess I’ll just go back to the castle,” Scorpius shrugged. “I smell like Butterbeer and I think I got some in my hair.”
“I have to buy Katherine a birthday present, if you’d like to come along,” Al offered. With a wink, he added, “I think you smell beautiful, precious.”
“Kiss my arse, Potter,” Scorpius snapped, but he was smiling in spite of himself.
“I’m completely hopeless at this,” Al admitted. “Girls are mysterious creatures. You’ll never have the misfortune of finding that out, you lucky sod.”
“You’ve got chocolate, you’ve ordered flowers to be delivered by Owl…” Scorpius mused. “Now you need one good thing, something really personal and special. What does she like?”
“Me,” Al said. When Scorpius only pursed his lips in annoyance, he looked up defensively. “No, really!”
“Well let’s just have you pop out of a cake then,” Scorpius said with an eyeroll. “You really can’t tell me something she likes?”
“I don’t know,” Al muttered. “She reads Witch Weekly a lot….”
“That’s all you’ve got?” Scorpius asked, one eyebrow arched. “You are hopeless. Come on, I’ll help.”
He led Al to a jewelers. “There,” he said, pointing through the glass at the many items. “What do you think she’d like?”
“That one,” Al said almost immediately and Scorpius followed his gaze to find a sapphire necklace set on a silver chain. “It’s Ravenclaw colors… and her eyes…”
“Alright, Romeo,” Scorpius said dryly. “I get the idea. You have enough for that?”
Al scoffed. “Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m made of money.”
By the time they headed back to Hogwarts, it was already dark.
“Winter’s coming,” Scorpius said darkly. “It’s not that late.”
“I know a shortcut back, if it makes you nervous being out in the dark,” Al offered.
Scorpius considered it for a minute. “Sure,” he said finally. “Let’s go.”
Al led him off of the normal path and off to the left. “This way,” he said, taking out his wand. ‘Lumos.’
“Through the forest?” Scorpius said, voice trembling. “Uh, maybe I’d rather -“
“I go this way all the time,” Al said. “Are you a Gryffindor or aren’t you?”
“How long is this ‘short-cut’?” Scorpius muttered. “We’d have been back by now on the normal route.”
“Get off my case,” Al grumbled. “I might have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”
“You got us lost in the Forbidden Forest?” Scorpius shrieked.
“Shut up,” Al hissed urgently, but it was too late. Growls emitted from the darkness around them.
“We’re in the fucking Forbidden Forest at night alone. Why would you make that much noise?” Al seethed, looking around frantically. “Come on, we need to move fast.” He placed his wand on his palm. “Point me,” he whispered, and the wand spun. When it slowed, he tugged on Scorpius’s sleeve. “This way,” he said. Scorpius didn’t budge. “Scorpius, come on -“
Scorpius, rooted in place, began to tremble. Al took in his wide eyes and paled face and turned around.
Crouched behind him, teeth bared, was a Drapel - a leopard which could turn into wisps of smoke and reappear in solid form, surprising its prey. Al was at chin level to the giant beast; its eyes, teeth, and claws reflected their wand light back in their faces.
“Fucking run!” Al yelled, grabbing Scorpius’s elbow and taking off into the thick of the woods. Behind them, the Drapel turned into smoke and reappeared to their right, charging right at them.
“Stupefy!” Scorpius bellowed, and the mosnter faltered, rubbing its nose with a dog-sized paw. They kept running, shooting various spells over their shoulders.
“We don’t - even - know - where - we’re going!” Scorpius managed to shout as they ducked around tree trunks and hopped over gnarled roots.
“That - won’t - matter - if we’re - dead!” Al yelled back. “Keep running!”
The drapel appeared in front of them, snarling and salivating wildly.
“Fuck,” Scorpius gasped.
With a growl, it sprang forward and swiped at Scorpius. He flew backwards through the air, hitting a tree and slumping on the ground, where he didn’t move.
“Scorpius!” Al gasped, watching the blood pool in the dirt under his friend. “Oh fuck. Stupefy!”
The creature stalked towards him, unfazed by his spells. Al rushed to Scorpius and shook his shoulders frantically.
“Come on, Scorpius, help me, stun him, we need to do it together,” Al cried. “Stupefy!”
Scorpius rolled so that his wand faced the creature. “Stupefy,” he croaked.
“It’s not enough,” Al cried, half sobbing, half panting. “Come on, stay awake! Try again!”
Slowly, strangely, the air around them began to glow slightly, shimmering dust rising up to meet them. Al looked around wildly, certain that some creature was coming to his rescue.
The drapel growled again and came a step closer, its tail switching madly. Ignoring the strange glowing, Al cried out again - “Stupefy!”
He felt something deep within him, under his skin, seem to swell. His magic rose up, so powerful that his arm shook uncontrollably in an effort to keep his aim. His stunning spell connected and shot the drapel down. The glimmering vanished, and Al collapsed on the ground next to Scorpius, feeling the magic that had moments ago pumped through his veins like blood settle back down.
“Scorp,” he whispered. There was no answer.
“Oh, shit,” he said hopelessly, and rolled Scorpius over to assess the wound. A single claw had left a gash down his left shoulder towards his chest - close to his heart.
“Fuck,” he cried. He looked around wildly. He had no idea where to go or how to get Scorpius to help in time. He pulled out his wand again. “Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I can handle this. Point me.” When it pointed a direction, he lifted Scorpius off of the ground and flung his limp body over his shoulder, noting absently that they seemed to have landed next to some of their Herbology plant - Combibo Cumbula.
Staggering under Scorpius’s dead weight, and heart staggering under the idea of losing him, he made his way through the forest.
“A concussion from hitting the tree, and the drapel’s claw wound. Both easily fixed,” the Headmaster said to Al, who sat white-faced next to Scorpius’s bed in the Hospital Wing.
“I’m sorry,” Al managed. “It was a short-cut, I take it all the time. I took a wrong turn, we ended up on the wrong side of the forest.”
“I won’t be taking disciplinary action this once,” the Headmaster said, “but if I find out that you’re continuing to use this short-cut of yours, there will be no more warnings.”
“Thank you, sir,” Al said miserably.
“Are you going to bed, Albus?” the Headmaster asked as the Nurse dimmed the lights.
“I’ll just be another minute, sir,” Al said quietly. The Headmaster took his leave; Al took Scorpius’s hand and bent his forehead to it.
“Fuck,” Al whispered hoarsely, and without warning felt his body heave with a single dry sob.
On the crisp, white sheets, Scorpius’s hand tightened against his.
Part 2