Cursed Love || A Scorbus Story

Nineteen: In Which there is Hope

Albus' summer was a little different after James came out.

For starters, Harry was a lot more careful around him, almost as if the "new James" was more delicate. Harry was almost scared to be alone with him, but hugged him at every chance. Albus wondered if he took a hot shower right after and washed his clothes.

Second, Harry seemed to be pressing more on Albus' letter-writing habit. "What're you writing about, son?" he'd ask every time. "Anything interesting?"

"None of your business, Dad," Albus would reply, sealing his letter and sending it off.

Based on Scorpius' letters, he seemed to be doing better, but he did mention a few bouts of hospitalisation. Apparently, his uncle, Percy Wood-Weasley, was an overseer on Scorpius.

I've not been feeling too well lately.

That was in almost every letter.

"Oh, Albus, it's not that bad,"

"Dad, it's private." He frowned, turning in his chair and looking at Harry. "Look, Dad, I'm not gay. I'm not like James."

"I---yes, I know, but. . .that's not why I'm in here."

"Yes, it is." Albus scoffed. "Seriously, it's not 1984. There's even some sort of Gay-Straight Alliance club at Hogwarts."

"Oh." Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Have you. . .gone?"

"What? No, Dad!" Albus scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Really, you're driving me crazy right now, just leave me alone."

Ginny wasn't much better. To her credit, she wasn't as pushy as Harry, but she was curious as well.

"So, honey, how's Scorpius?" she asked, setting a plate of toast and porridge in front of him at breakfast. James was back in Wales, meeting with his boyfriend to discuss Muggle flats in the area they could get together. Albus looked up at her, blinking. "Well, you know, I think we should invite him to. . .somewhere."

"Mum," Albus groaned. "We're friends, can you and Dad stop doing this?" He threw his hands up as Lily entered the room. "Can I not be friends with anyone?!"

Pushing his chair back, Albus stomped to his room. Why did his face feel so red? Why was Scorpius' face filling his thoughts, his head going rather fuzzy, mouth curling into a smile? Scorpius Malfoy. . .

He wanted to hug him, but not in the way they had hugged this past year. He wanted to hug him like he would never want to let go. He wanted to hold his hand secretly beneath the tables at Hogwarts, wanted his hand resting on his knee while he read and Albus admired the way his brows creased together. He wanted to lean over and kiss his cheeks while they worked on school assignments and---

Albus slapped himself hard in the face, holding his burning cheeks. What the hell? You were supposed to stop this already! Albus rubbed his face, feeling the warmness of his cheeks settle in his stomach, and he sat on his bed.

He was like James.

Scorpius didn't like him like this, he liked him as a friend only. There was nothing he could do about that. Nothing he could change about himself to make Scorpius want him.

How come Uncle Percy and James got lucky? Albus couldn't identify a single person at Hogwarts that was out publically. Minus one person, someone who came out as nonbinary, but Albus couldn't remember their name.

Anger surged through Albus as he remembered Harry's shocked look at when James had come out, yet his words were kind. But he walked on eggshells around his eldest son, the previous favourite. Did Harry think that, just by being near him, Albus would too like boys?

Well, maybe that was true, then.

But no one could just become gay or bi or whatever, it's not some contagious disease.

Albus took a deep breath. "Calm down," he told himself, holding his hands up. He took another deep breath, his anger and confusion subsiding. Continuing the breathing, Albus stood, pacing in a circle.

Friends are what they were. Best friends. Albus needed to see him, maybe that's what the ache in his heart was from. Maybe he just needed to hug him and tell him how much he's missed him. Yeah, maybe.

I love him, yeah, but as a friend. I hope.

Groaning, Albus sat back on his bed, that familiar dreadful feeling he had felt all last year coming back, swallowing him up whole, darkening his peripheral vision.

Even if Scorpius did like boys in that way, he surely wouldn't want to be with Albus of all people. Albus Potter the screwup. Albus Potter the Slytherin Squib.

His hands clenched over his stomach, eyes burning with tears. He hated himself, why did he have to be this way?

Absently, Albus scratched at his hands so hard they burned. Then at his wrists. Then his neck, his jaw, his head. He scratched so hard it hurt, but it made the dark feeling go away just a little. He continued the scratching, only stopping when he looked at his fingers, seeing the nails caked in blood.

Albus got up quickly, slipped to the bathroom and wiped at his face and arms with a damp wad of toilet paper. He looked at himself in the mirror for a long time, noticing that he looked a lot better than he did last year. His cheeks weren't as sunken, his eyes a little more bright.

But then why did he feel so hopeless? Over Scorpius? What was his problem?

And that was when he threw up, right in the sink.

He stumbled back to his room, shaking and holding his arms, sweat making him sticky. In his peripheral, he saw Lily come up the stairs and walk into the bathroom.

"EW!" she screamed in disgust. "MUUUUUUM! ALBUS THREW UP AND DIDN'T CLEAN IT!"

Albus ignored her, leaning on the wall as he heard his parent's footsteps coming up the stairs. Harry walked right past him, saying, "Good God, Albus, go clean it."

"I---" he began, throwing up right at Ginny's feet. She reached out, placing a hand on his forehead.

"You don't have a fever. Honey, look at me." She held his face, turning it to look at the side of his neck. "What happened here---?"

"Nothing," he snapped quickly, pushing past her and walking to his room. "Go away."

"Albus!" Harry called, waving his wand to lean the messes. "You're not doing this again, do you hear me?"

"Harry, stop it," Ginny told him firmly. She turned to Albus, telling him softly, "You go rest, honey."

He stumbled forward, holding his stomach. It didn't hurt, so then why did he throw up? In his bed, he pulled his blankets past his mouth, curling into a ball. He heard the door open and he didn't need to look over to see it was Ginny.

"Albus, what's on your face?" she asked quietly, her thumb rubbing Albus' temple. "Can I look at it, please?"

"No." He closed his eyes. "Go away, Mum, please."

"Albus, I just want to know what's going on."

"Nothing's going on!" he yelled. "Just go away and leave me alone!"

Ginny, not wanting to agitate him further, left, giving him a kiss on the head before leaving. Downstairs, she pulled Harry into their bedroom, making him sit down. "Harry, I saw some. . .marks on Albus."

"Marks?"

"Like scratches, but all over his neck."

"I'll go talk to him."

"No, Harry," Ginny sighed. "I already tried, he won't say anything. I don't know what to do, we can't really talk with him."

"We'll figure it out, Gin," Harry assured her, kissing her forehead. "He'll be okay."

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