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There wasn’t a single story about the Great Harry Potter that Al hadn’t heard. He had been told about his father’s life from more perspectives than he could count and he knew there were probably details left out here and there, but he had a pretty solid idea of the significant points. He’d learned enough to know that Harry Potter was a very lucky man.
Sure, he’d had all sorts of crap dumped on him for a long time. He’d lost his parents and been raised by his aunt and uncle, who Al had only met once but it was enough to keep him in line for weeks afterward because he’d felt so bad for his father. He’d had Voldemort trying to kill him almost every year he spent at Hogwarts, and he’d lost people who were very dear to him.
But it had been a war. Everybody had lost at least one person they loved. Not everybody had managed to walk away from the killing curse practically unscathed- twice. Harry had Ron and Hermione, who he was still close to after twenty-six years. He had three children with a wife that he was still in love with. He’d become an Auror like he’d dreamed of, and hadn’t sustained a serious injury so far. He’d been specifically chosen to play for his house’s team when he’d been at Hogwarts due to his natural talent. And – most importantly to Al – the Sorting Hat had listened to him when he hadn’t wanted to be put in Slytherin and instead placed him in Gryffindor. Harry had his fair share of luck.
And Al, as his son, figured he must have inherited at least some of that luck.
Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, he thought at the hat, which was mumbling things in his ear about his potential for intelligence and cunning and, “No, I must place you in…
“Slytherin!” it cried, and there was some smattering of applause from the Slytherin table. Most of the faces Al could see were dumbstruck, and when he sought out his older brother at the Gryffindor table, James’ eyes were the widest of them all.
It was with a heavy heart that he made himself trudge over to the Slytherin table and took an available seat at the end. He couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes and was just trying to keep from sicking up as he tried to block out the hushed whispers filling the hall. What was James going to say about him being a snake? What was his father going to say? Harry had assured him again that it wouldn’t matter when they were at the station. Al was partially named after a Slytherin, after all, and being in that house didn’t mean he couldn’t be brave. It didn’t mean he couldn’t be great.
But he’d so wanted to be a Gryffindor with the rest of his family. It felt like one of the worst things that had ever happened to him. His father’s luck wasn’t with him after all.
He barely glanced up through the rest of the sorting, but he did pay attention as Headmistress McGonagall gave a very brief speech. The plates along the table filled with food, but he didn’t move to serve himself anything, not sure he could keep it down.
“Potatoes?”
He looked up and nearly cringed. In his haze of disappointment, he hadn’t realized he was taking the seat next to Scorpius Malfoy. Al had heard of Draco Malfoy – mostly from his Uncle Ron – and had recognized the surname when Scorpius had been sorted.
“Alright,” he mumbled, scooping some roasted potatoes onto his plate. “Thanks.” It couldn’t hurt to be polite. He was in Slytherin now and there was no changing that, but he could still act like a Gryffindor and prove to his brother and cousins and everyone that in his heart he was a lion, no matter what color they dressed him in.
“I’m Scorpius Malfoy.” The blond boy’s smile was surprisingly genuine. He held out his hand to Al, despite the limited space between their bodies. “Our father’s went to school together.”
Al hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. Scorpius hadn’t done anything to wrong him other than growing up in a house that may still support the dark arts (if Uncle Ron was to be believed, anyway). Al figured he should pretend to be friendly, at the very least.
“I know. I’m Albus Severus Potter.” He used his full name. People he loved called him Al.
“I know,” Scorpius parroted. He was still smiling, and Al thought for a second that he saw a hint of shyness in his classmate’s eyes. He told himself it had to be a trick of the candlelight.
***
It wasn’t a full week before they had their first flying practice with the Gryffindor first years. He tried to stick near Rose, but she had already made Gryffindor friends to hang around with. Al was left sulking on the outskirts of the Slytherins. He’d found himself sulking a lot that week, especially when James would tease him and tug on his green and silver tie.
They all lined up for Madam Hooch, a wrinkled but clearly stubborn woman, if she was determined to stay on as the flying coach even in her old age. Since Al had been in the back, he ended up standing aside one of two of the last available broomsticks. It was either there or next to Scorpius Malfoy again, who he pointedly hadn’t spoken to since the feast. The broom he chose had an alarming number of broken twigs and the wood was bent more than any broom he’d ever seen.
It rose to his hand when he commanded it to, at least, which was better than he could say for some of his peers. Even Rose had to repeat herself once before her broomstick flew up to her. She rarely joined the boys when they all gathered for games of Quidditch. In one of James’ more obnoxious phases, he had said it was a good thing because girls couldn’t play sports as well as boys could, anyway. Then Lily had taken to flying like a fish in water and stomped that phase right out with one crushing defeat after another.
Al liked flying and wasn’t bad at it, even if he wasn’t as great as James. Still, he hadn’t had any reason to worry about the lesson. When he kicked off the ground and went higher than he was used to with the sleek and controlled broom he had at home, the thing shook and suddenly pitched him off. He landed on his back with an, “Oof!” and gasped to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him.
He could hear sniggering and closed his eyes. Humiliation. Son of Harry Potter, the youngest Hogwarts Quidditch player in a century, had just been dislodged from his broom mere seconds into flight. Forget unlucky, he was beginning to suspect he might be cursed.
“Are you hurt?”
He opened his eyes and stared into a concerned gray pair. Scorpius Malfoy was leaning over him, his lips pinched tight as he studied Al’s eyes and then looked him over for any clear injuries.
“‘M fine,” he mumbled as Madam Hooch reached them.
“Can you stand? Everyone, stay here and stay off your brooms while I take the boy to the hospital wing,” she announced, and Scorpius offered his hand to help Al to his feet. Al nearly groaned. Escorted to the hospital wing because he fell four feet from his broom. The whole school would know by dinner. He’d probably get an owl from his father about it the next morning at breakfast.
“He’s not hurt,” Scorpius told her. “He says he feels fine and he isn’t concussed. I think we can continue the lesson.” With the hint of a smile, he added, “I think it would take more than a tumble to take out a Potter.”
The coach eyed Al closely, and both boys waited for her decision. “Alright. Back to your brooms, everyone. Mister Potter, take the broomstick next to Mister Malfoy.”
Al nodded, shooting Scorpius a few odd looks before they resumed their first flying lesson. Al was much more careful on his new broom, which was old but still a major improvement from the last one. He managed not to embarrass himself for the rest of the hour.
Scorpius sidled up next to him as the two groups of first years headed towards the Great Hall for lunch. “Are you alright, really?” he asked quietly, glancing around to make sure no one would hear.
“I’m fine, like I told you.”
“Good,” he said, and looked like he truly meant it. “The first time I flew, I broke my arm. Even from a short distance, all it takes is a bad landing.”
“That was not my first time flying!” Al grumbled, offended. Scorpius wasn’t bothered by his hushed outrage.
“First time flying a broom that looked like that, I bet. Bloody thing looked more like a deathtrap than a broomstick,” Scorpius noted, and Al had to agree. He was used to much more advanced brooms. “I hope it’s alright that I told Madam Hooch not to take you to the hospital wing. I thought some of the others might not be so nice about it.”
Al looked at him curiously. “You did that for me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Scorpius asked, and Al’s stomach turned as the guilt washed over him. Because I’ve thought nothing but terrible things about you. “I know you’re less than pleased about being a Slytherin, that’s obvious enough, but we’re still housemates. Ought to look out for each other, I think.”
“Do you want to sit together at lunch?” Al blurted out, feeling stupid as soon as he said it. Scorpius looked pleased, though.
“You’re not sitting with your brother today?”
Sitting with James exposed himself to all kinds of ridicule. It was miserable, but he had been determined not to sit with the Slytherins, still feeling as though he didn’t belong there. It was starting to look like it might not be all that bad.
“No, I don’t think so. My brothers a git,” he admitted, and Scorpius sniggered.
“I would be happy to sit with you, Albus Severus,” Scorpius agreed, and Al hardly had to think before correcting him.
“Call me Al.”
***
Al hadn’t expected for him and Scorpius to become inseparable, but it happened. They partnered up in every class, studied together, ate together, defended each other when James would tell Al that it just wasn’t right, befriending a Malfoy. They shared the sweets that Scorpius’ father often sent him, served detention together twice, and received odd looks whenever one of them was seen without the other, like they were missing a limb. And when it came time to go home for the winter holidays, Al almost wanted to stay behind.
There wouldn’t be much point, of course, as Scorpius was also going home. Al reminded himself that it wouldn’t be long, but saying goodbye at King’s Cross was difficult. It wasn’t so bad once he found his family and was being pulled into tight hugs by both his parents and even his sister (apparently the house had been boring without him). He’d missed them, though he still felt a pang when he looked back and couldn’t see Scorpius through the crowd.
On Christmas Eve morning, he was the first one awake. He made himself breakfast and was poking at his eggs when his father came down in a Muggle robe and one white sock. Al knew he was near useless before coffee.
“Morning, Dad.”
Harry grunted in return as he fixed himself a cup and the pleasing aroma filled the kitchen. He took the seat next to Al and finally smiled.
“You’re up early.”
Al shrugged. “Went to bed early.” More like passed out early. He hadn’t been sleeping well since he got back home. He didn’t know if it was adjusting to the change after so many months of sleeping in his bunk at Hogwarts or if it was just being away from Scorpius.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Harry spoke again. “How’s school, Albus?”
The question was simple enough, but Harry’s gentle tone implied he was asking for more than the surface details. “It’s good. Really good.”
“You know you can tell me if anything’s wrong, don’t you? If you don’t feel safe with your classmates? I don’t think I can actually get you switched into a different house, but there has to be something-”
“Dad, I’m being honest,” Al promised, chuckling. “I’m doing well there. And I’ve got Scorpius.”
“Malfoy’s kid, right?” Harry didn’t make a face, but Al couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just holding it back for Al’s benefit. “Figures he’d be a Slytherin.”
“I’m a Slytherin,” Al grumbled. “You know it’s not synonymous for evil, right?”
Harry looked properly ashamed. “Sorry, Al. I do know that. I could have been one, too. Just means you’re smart.”
“Thought you said you could’ve been one.” Al pressed his lips tightly together to fight a grin and Harry shoved playfully at his shoulder.
“Smart arse.” He ruffled Al’s hair and Al swatted at his hand until he pulled it back. “So you and the Malfoy boy are good friends, then? James mentioned you were spending time with him.”
Al rolled his eyes at the thought of his older brother telling on him for hanging around Scorpius. “He’s great,” he nearly gushed, feeling a rush of excitement at getting to talk about Scorpius after missing him for a week – it had felt like longer. “He’s my best friend, and he’s really smart. He’s not anything like his dad. Or, what Uncle Ron says his dad’s like.”
“Ron is harsh where Draco’s involved,” Harry agreed. “Draco was cruel sometimes when we were kids, but I did things I’m not proud of, too. His family and the way he grew up, his father… It’s not quite an excuse, but I’ve come to understand why he was the way he was, and why he made the choices he did. He’s not a bad person, and I don’t have any problems with Scorpius Malfoy being your friend. No matter what your brother says,” he added with a laugh, and Al joined in, relieved that he had Harry’s approval. It wouldn’t have been enough to keep him from Scorpius, but Al still placed a high value on his father’s opinion. Especially if that opinion meant he might be allowed to visit Scorpius when they left Hogwarts for the summer.
***
When they returned from their holidays, it was like they’d never been away. Al was glued to Scorpius’ side again, and remained that way until the weather grew hot and it was time for the Hogwarts Express to take them back to London. They’d made plans to see each other, but a day here and there wasn’t nearly the same as how their lives were at school together.
Al was thrumming with excitement when September rolled around again. He had a swooping feeling in his stomach when he first spotted Scorpius at the train station, and they hugged when they were finally reunited. They greeted each other’s parents and said goodbye to their own, who had even learned to be civil with each other, and then found a compartment for just the two of them on the train, more than ready for their second year.
***
“Alohomora.” The doorknob jiggled. “Alohomora!” More jiggling, with more force. “Bugger.”
Al winced. “So… we’re stuck here, then?”
They were in their third year and Scorpius had been the one to bring up Felix Felicis, but it had been Al’s idea to sneak into Slughorn’s storeroom in the early morning hours to steal some. Scorpius had tried insisting that he could find somewhere to buy it, but Al had talked him around, not knowing how long that might take. His transfiguration exam was later that day.
“The door’s enchanted. Must be some other spell needed to get out to trap anyone who sneaks in.” Scorpius slammed his fist angrily against the door. “It should be enchanted not to open from the outside, this just isn’t fair!”
Al pulled out his wand and murmured, “Lumos,” just in time to watch Scorpius press his back to the door and slide down until he was sitting.
“What will they do when they find us? We won’t get expelled, will we? Oh, my father will hear about this,” he realized, miserable.
“We’ll probably get detention,” Al reasoned, sitting next to Scorpius and feeling guilty for a number of reasons. It had been his idea to break in and therefore his fault that Scorpius would get in trouble. Also, he didn’t feel all that bad about it – he was selfishly happy to be trapped in a potion supply closet with his best friend.
His best friend who he fancied.
“We won’t get expelled,” he promised, not wanting Scorpius to work himself into hysterics. Detention for the rest of the year, maybe, but not expelled.
Scorpius nodded, looking at Al with a half smile. “Definitely get Howlers, though.”
Al groaned, but it peeled out into a laugh towards the end. “Maybe they’ll come at the same time; they can drown each other out.”
Scorpius snorted. “Might sound like they’re screaming at each other rather than at us.”
“Like they’re back in school again,” Al mused, Scorpius giggling at his side.
It was three hours later that the door finally unlocked. Something about being trapped in the small dark space together seemed romantic to Al, even if it had been peppered with moments of panic. It hadn’t been too long before that Al had worked out what his feelings towards Scorpius meant. The intense admiration, the urge to be around Scorpius at all times and the jealousy whenever he spent time with anyone else combined with a complete lack of the interest in girls his peers were showing finally tipped him off. He was infatuated with Scorpius Malfoy, and far too cowardly to say anything about it.
The anxiety flared up again as they scrambled to their feet and stared at their head of house with wide, worried eyes. Slughorn blinked a few times as if trying to discern if he was imagining them or not, and then frowned.
“Empty your pockets,” he said with a sigh, and the boys hurried to do so. Scorpius held out the vial for Slughorn to take, his eyes glued to the ground. Slughorn examined it for a moment before arching his brow at Scorpius.
“Potter, you may go,” he dismissed, and Al gaped.
“Professor, what-”
“Quickly, before I change my mind,” Slughorn ordered. Al knew how the Potions Master favored his family, but to let him off that easily and lay all of the punishment on Scorpius? He couldn’t let that happen.
“But Scorp didn’t-”
“Now,” Slughorn insisted, and Scorpius pushed at Al’s arm.
“Go,” he hissed, and Al looked helplessly between them before allowing a second push to lead him out the door. Slughorn closed it behind him, locking Scorpius in the room with him, and Al pressed his ear to the door. He couldn’t hear anything, of course, and felt nauseous.
His heart fluttered when the door opened again, and Scorpius was blushing but didn’t look as stricken as Al had expected. He quickly moved down the corridor, yanking on Al’s robes to make him keep up.
“What happened? You didn’t get expelled, right?”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “You think he would have just let me walk off if I were expelled? No, I didn’t even get detention.”
“Really?” Al asked, a grin lighting up his face. “That’s great! What did he say?”
Scorpius paused before answering. “He told me never to do it again. And to keep an eye on you so you’d stay out of trouble, too. And… he took thirty points from Slytherin.”
Al’s eyes widened and he bit his lip. “Well, maybe no one will find out.”
“You better hope not. If it gets out, I’m telling everyone it was your fault.”
They were both thinking of Travis Flint, a fifth year who had lost Slytherin twenty-five points two weeks before for calling a second year a Mudblood just as the Headmistress was turning the corner. A large group of Slytherins had decorated the grounds with his possessions in retaliation. Whoever had managed to place his broomstick at the base of the Whomping Willow had not yet come out with how they did it.
They hurried to the Great Hall, wanting to reach it before breakfast was over. “I just thought of something,” Al said as they neared the Slytherin table. “Do you think if we’d taken the potion, we would have been lucky enough to figure out a way out without getting caught?” He chuckled. “Talk about perfect hindsight.”
Even Scorpius’ most deadly glare was attractive.
***
It was a rainy day in their fourth year when Scorpius turned and said, “Hey, Al? You know you’re my best friend, right?”
He’d been off the whole week, but had been extra jittery that day. Al blinked and had to laugh, the question was so absurd.
“Of course,” he said when he realized Scorpius was honestly waiting for an answer. “We’ve been best friends since first year. What’s going on with you, Scorp?”
Scorpius rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve realized something recently, and I’ve been wanting – er, needing, really, to tell someone. And since you’re my best friend, I wanted to tell you. But you have to promise you won’t, like, stop talking to me. Nothing’s changed, alright?”
Al’s eyebrows rose towards his hairline. “Did you kill someone? Or pledge your allegiance to a dark wizard?”
Scorpius glared and punched his shoulder. “That isn’t funny.”
Al chuckled anyway. “Well it’s ridiculous that you think I’d stop talking to you over anything. So really, what is it?”
Scorpius licked his lips, a nervous habit that Al was very fond of, and sighed. “I’m bisexual.”
Al stared, not sure he’d heard correctly. “You…”
“I fancy boys just as much as I fancy girls,” Scorpius confirmed weakly, his gaze imploring Al to understand.
“Er. Me too,” Al replied stupidly, and Scorpius narrowed his eyes. “No, I mean, I think I am. I haven’t thought about it much, but I think I… I think that’s what I am, too.”
It was true that he’d never thought to put that label on himself, but faced with it now, he couldn’t deny it. He tended to fancy boys even more than he fancied girls. And, in particular, he fancied Scorpius. Who also fancied boys. Al briefly wondered if it was his birthday and no one had reminded him.
“You aren’t just taking the piss, are you?” Scorpius asked carefully, and Al shook his head.
“No, honestly. I didn’t think to tell you because I’d never thought it to myself, but I’m definitely not just… I’m definitely something.” He didn’t think he was making sense, but it was all overwhelming for him at that moment.
Scorpius was quiet for a minute, considering, and then slowly grinned. “That’s really great, then. Can’t very well judge me if you’re just the same.”
Al rolled his eyes. “Like I’d judge you for it anyway. Like you said, nothing’s changed.” Except now I can tell you I think I might be a bit in love with you.
“Except now we can talk about blokes together,” Scorpius pointed out, slowly gaining enthusiasm as Al’s began to wilt. “Help each other get over guys, the lot of it. It won’t be weird for either of us like it might have been if one of us was straight and the other was talking about, say, how well some of those Gryffindor boys look in their Quidditch gear.” He sighed. “They may be prats, but they wear those trousers well, don’t they?”
It felt like somebody had poured a bucket of ice cold water over Al’s head. And James had done that to him once before, so he could compare. “Yeah.” He tried to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, it’ll be brilliant.”
He couldn’t come to terms with the fact that Scorpius would miraculously turn out to be compatible as far as the sexual orientation went and still wasn’t interested. He didn’t have much luck that year.
***
Their confessions hadn’t hurt their friendship. Al suspected that they had, however, hurt his sanity. By the end of their fifth year, Scorpius was driving him crazy. He was getting tall and toned and had grown his hair out, and Al worried about how his brain tissue would survive if all of his blood was in his cock all the time because he could never stop thinking about his unfairly sexy best friend.
Who, at that time, was on a date with Clara Jones, his Hufflepuff girlfriend.
Al pulled back the curtains around his bunk when he heard the door to the fifth year Slytherin dorms open, and was surprised to see Scorpius walk in. “You’re back early,” he noted. “Where’s Clara?”
“Throwing a tantrum outside the Great Hall, last I saw her.” He fell onto his bed, just a few feet from Al’s.
“A tantrum?” Al set down his Charms text and turned to face his friend. “Aren’t you supposed to comfort her or something when that happens? I thought that was part of the boyfriend job description.”
“Not when you stop being their boyfriend,” Scorpius explained with a grin. “Merlin, she’s been a nightmare.”
Al laughed, even though he wasn’t that amused. Talking about Scorpius’ relationships was more numbing than entertaining. “You were thrilled when she agreed to see you. What happened?”
“I got to know more about her than how her tits look in that blue jumper. It’s like every time she opens her mouth, it’s to say something terrible about someone else. It’s worse than with any Slytherin I’ve ever known.”
“So you’re single again? Or did you find someone else to snog on the way down here?”
Scorpius balled up his tie and threw it at Al. “Fuck off, I’m not that bad. The girls here are just mental,” he sighed. “I wish more of the blokes were gay. Or out, if they are. There have to be some who just aren’t telling. I wonder if there’s a spell for that,” he mused, and Al fought the urge to thump his head back against the headboard repeatedly.
“Probably not.”
“Yeah.” Another sigh. “Pity. I really think I’m going to swear off girls for a while, though. No one I fancy right now anyway, so it shouldn’t be that hard.”
“I don’t think I fancy girls at all,” Albus admitted, keeping his eyes fixed on the ceiling of his canopy. He heard the slight rustling as Scorpius’ head turned towards him, but didn’t look.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Huh.” From the corner of his eye, Al saw Scorpius sit up. “I’d sort of been wondering. I know girls ask you out all the time, and you’re never interested.” He paused, continuing when Al didn’t say anything. “It’s alright, you know.”
“I know.” Al finally met his gaze. “I’ve seen you with blokes. I didn’t expect you to think any less of me for it.”
“Right.” Scorpius smiled, moving to sit on the edge of Al’s bed. “Is there anyone you fancy?”
Al shrugged the best he could while lying down. He’d kept his feelings private for so long that the idea of telling Scorpius sometimes had him feeling dizzy. He didn’t offer any more information.
“If you decide, I’ll help you. I’ve picked up some tricks,” he stated proudly, and Al very nearly rolled his eyes.
“You’ve been with every queer guy here,” Al reminded him, and Scorpius waved him off.
“It’s not like I have a claim on them. I’m not with them now, am I? Trust me, absolutely no hard feelings if you go for anyone I’ve dated. Just because they weren’t right for me doesn’t mean they can’t be right for you, at least for some fun.”
Al really didn’t want any of them to be right for him. He just wanted to hit Scorpius very hard with his pillow and then snog him senseless. He didn’t do either.
***
During the first Hogsmeade trip of their sixth year, Scorpius gave up.
“It’s like you want to be alone!” he accused, frustrated. Al had resisted any and all attempts to set him up with guys. Even when Al had been invited to accompany the Malfoys on their summer vacation to Greece, Al had turned down the opportunities Scorpius created for him to meet guys.
Al knew it wasn’t healthy to be so hung up on one person that he couldn’t fathom finding a connection with anyone else. It was downright pathetic, as far as he was concerned, that he couldn’t get over Scorpius when he hadn’t even told him. He’d been wondering in the previous weeks if that was his problem. If maybe he needed to be officially rejected to start letting go. It would be easier if he wasn’t so afraid of what that rejection would do to him, or to them together.
“You always make me feel bad when I go on dates now. And I know you don’t mean to,” Scorpius added when Al frowned. “It isn’t really your fault, but I go out and you never do and I feel like I’m, I don’t know, abandoning you.”
“I’m not a child,” Al growled, though he did feel a little bit abandoned when Scorpius went out without him. He always tried to push that feeling way, way down.
“I know you aren’t, but honestly, Al.” Scorpius eyed him critically. “Are you… Do you think you might be asexual? Just thought you were gay because you weren’t interested in girls, but really you’re not interested in anyone?”
Al delivered his nastiest glare. “No, I’m not asexual. I think I might have realized if I didn’t ever fancy anyone.”
“You don’t ever fancy anyone!” Scorpius exclaimed, and they received odd looks from the other Honeydukes customers. Al set down the sugar quills he’d picked out.
“I’m finished with this conversation,” he stated as calmly as he could, leaving the shop without waiting for a response. He was barely out of the shop when Scorpius caught up, but he didn’t let the tugging on his arm stop him, and Scorpius was dragged away from the shops.
“Merlin, Al, when did you become such a surly prat?”
Al stopped, clenching his fists. The worst part was that Scorpius was absolutely right. Al had allowed himself to wallow in his angst, his young unrequited love, and he was making the people around him pay for it. James had said something similar over the summer holiday and Al had just snapped back at him, but the thought had planted itself in his brain and he couldn’t look at himself in a mirror without knowing it was true. He was pained and self-loathing and no one wanted to be around him. If he kept it up, he’d lose Scorpius anyway.
He wasn’t even really thinking when he said it.
“How can you be so blind?”
He had rounded on Scorpius before he realized what he said, but he couldn’t hold it back like he was used to. His feelings were threatening to bust him open, pour out like a waterfall.
“What?” Scorpius asked, narrowing his eyes like he suspected Al may have lost the plot.
“You really can’t figure out why I don’t want to see anyone? Why I only want to spend time with you?” He knew it wasn’t fair to expect Scorpius to read his mind, to know the things he’d tried to keep hidden. It wasn’t sensible to think he should know. He couldn’t stop. “How obvious would I have to get, exactly? Is it clear enough if I tell you I just want you, or will I have to draw you a picture so you’ll understand?”
“You…” Scorpius blinked, slowly pointing to himself and mouthing, ‘Me?’ Al groaned, knowing he’d really fucked up.
“Sorry, I just- any chance we can go back to before I said all of that? I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain in the arse, I really am.” Now that it was all out in the open, his anger had drained and dread was rising up in his chest. “I’ll date anyone you tell me to.”
“You- You said you didn’t know,” Scorpius said quietly, his eyes glazed over like he was more in his head than there with Al. “You weren’t sure what you were, I couldn’t just try- And then you never said anything and I wanted so much that I knew I couldn’t just assume anything, because I was probably just making it all up in my head, seeing what I wanted to see. But you really…” He trailed off, looking at Al more clearly. “You really fancy me.”
Al had no point of reference for what he was feeling. Nothing to compare the mix of confusion, hope, fear, desire, pain, and anxiety. “I hadn’t thought about what I was. Just knew I fancied you,” he explained, two years later than he should have. “Only wanted to be around you since we met.”
Scorpius laughed a bit hysterically. “You hated me when we met.”
Al blinked. “Well, you know. Since I realized that being a Malfoy didn’t automatically make you a twat.”
Scorpius shook his head, closing the space between them. He gripped Al’s jumper and yanked to press their bodies together, and Al was too stunned to realize what was happening until Scorpius’ tongue was easing between his lips.
Al didn’t have much experience with kissing. Some of the muggle-borns had introduced games like Truth or Dare and Spin the Bottle and he’d had a few pecks, some more intense than others if the girl got carried away. But they could hardly be called kissing, compared to what was happening with Scorpius. It wasn’t in the same realm as what those had been.
He went along for the ride, clinging to Scorpius’ coat and making all sorts of embarrassing noises. It was Scorpius who broke the kiss, and he was laughing.
“That was the least romantic declaration of love ever,” he accused, and Al pressed his face into Scorpius’ shoulder to muffle the crazed giggles he couldn’t possible contain.
“Don’t date anyone else,” Al demanded when he resurfaced, and Scorpius kissed him in reply. “Ever,” he added, and Scorpius laughed into another kiss.
“We absolutely have to invent a different story for how we got together.”
Al figured he’d been the biggest idiot of the two in the real story. “Deal,” he said.
“Deal.” Scorpius pressed close again and snogged him again, and neither of them spoke again for a long time.
Al had been wrong on his first day at Hogwarts. Being sorted into Slytherin was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him.