We Could Be What We Would Have Wanted

Scorpius laid awake on his bed for hours, perpending and replaying over and over his quiet moment, and probably the last, with Kiara under the stars a few nights ago.

They've been conversing casually and friendly, but not much. Though none of them would like to acknowledge the past. Perhaps, it was Scorpius who didn't like to. Kiara wasn't bringing it up either, but instead saying things about people being meant together, which irked Scorpius a little but nonetheless drops the subject and looks down again, not meeting her eyes. But Kiara wanted him to understand it, that some people have to love someone who isn't meant for them, but has to find someone who is destined for them.

As silly as it might sound for him, he loved her and he missed her. He missed everything about her. He missed her twinkling eyes, her sweet smile, her heart-felt laughter...everything.

Kiara Le Clerc: The Thinker; the thought resounded in his head and Scorpius humorlessly laughs.

His eyes drifted to the emerald green curtains that shielded the sun's bright morning light. He sighs as he gets up and unwraps himself from the tight blankets. Not wanting to wake his roommates up in the inconsiderate way, he decided not to let the overwhelming illustrious lights enter the the room.

He changed into his uniform and made his bed. It's only just an hour before breakfast and he didn't want to waste it by doing nothing.

He pulls out his drawing pad, his quill and the bottle of ink that seemed to contain the whole of the ocean by the darkness of its blue color. He tiptoes down to the deserted Slytherin common room.

As he steps into the cold breeze, Scorpius secures his scarf around his neck.

Though he was paralyzed, he just wanted to try drawing again. "Just try," Scorpius said to himself as he sat himself by a tree. He looks around, gathering thoughts of what he should draw, biting his lip as he did so.

An idea came to him and he smiled small, almost sadly. His fingers trembled as he reached for his quill. His grasp was light around it. Scorpius thoughtfully hoped with his eyebrows knitted. His fingertips also seemed to yearn the quill's metallic and sophisticated touch.

As he exerted more effort on his fingers, his smile widened.

"Oh my god," he covers his mouth with his hand and the other tightly holding the quill. "This is really happening..." his voice quavered. Then slowly, he dips the quill in the bottle of ink and began to draw a few strokes.

Scorpius was too much elated. He threw his head back and he faced the bright sky. He shut his eyes tight and screamed loudly in joy. He knew that his holler resounded through the vast grounds of Hogwarts but he could care less.

Still smiling with levity, Scorpius went back to work and stayed there until a few minutes were left before breakfast.

~~•~~•~~

Scorpius reached the Slytherin common room and luckily, no one was around as they were all having their breakfast in the Great Hall. Now everyone was aware of his talent for arts, he didn't want them goggling on his work. He knew it would humiliate him even more.

After he stowed back his materials beneath his bed, he went to the Great Hall to satisfy his empty stomach, just like anyone else.

He found his usual place in the long table of his House. Other students greeted him rather pleasantly as he went. They have been more kind to him after that horrendous visit of his grandfather, Lucius.

As he poured his second serving of pumpkin juice, Albus Potter sat beside him, slightly bumping his shoulder.

"Morning Scorpius," greeted Albus in his usual calm voice.