undeniable | scorbus

eleven - scorpius

this chapter is dedicated to the anon on my tumblr who requested angst. damn y'all really hate your favs being happy, don't you?

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Scorpius didn't know if he'd be able to attend Potions class, especially with his alluring new partner, pretending like there was nothing going on.

Albus would say something, Scorpius knew he would. Albus noticed things, and as much as he appreciated that, he didn't know if he'd be able to handle it today. For the first time, he wished the butterflies in his stomach every time Albus so much as looked in his direction were the only things he had to deal with.

He sighed, and wondered if the headache trick would work again. Slughorn was quite gullible, and Madam Pomfrey never turned a student away.

The only other time he'd skipped class intentionally was in fourth year, on the same date.

He sighed, staring into his red rimmed eyes in the mirror. He wished his skin wasn't so pale, it only made the darkness under his eyes even more obvious. At least the washroom was empty, and he was grateful for that.

The thought of Albus calling him - no, his eyes - pretty, cheered him up a little bit. He couldn't really see the appeal, especially when his eyes were bloodshot, and the thought disappeared almost as soon as it had come. Maybe Albus had just been trying to be nice, but he'd seemed genuine enough.

He wondered if his mother would approve of him skipping class. He supposed so; the only thing she'd ever wanted was for him to be happy, and he usually was. He took joy in life's simple pleasures: butterbeer on a snowy day, the taste of scones in the morning, books with happy endings. He'd always tried to be positive, to see the best in things, no matter what. It worked well for him, on most days of the year.

But a positive mindset wasn't always easy to maintain, especially when it was your dead mother's birthday.

The thought of her made his heart ache again. He splashed cold water on his face, hoping by some miracle that it would wash the ache away.

It didn't, and he stared into the mirror, watching the water droplets that were running down his face, paler than usual. He supposed it didn't matter, anyway.

His father had talked to him about seeing a mind healer, when it happened in third year. Muggles called them therapists.

But he'd never felt the need. He didn't know if he'd ever want to talk to a complete stranger about why he was upset. It seemed pointless, and he'd probably walk out of St. Mungo's exactly the same as he was when he entered.

He'd never been good at talking about his feelings. He always did his best to act like he was okay, during the months after her death. It became easy enough after a while. His father looked like he had enough on his plate, and Scorpius worried about him often. He knew his father worried about him too, which was why he always put on a smile.

Scorpius knew he'd be receiving a letter from his father shortly. He always wrote on her birthday. A long, lengthy letter that voiced his concerns and asked if Scorpius wanted to come home for a few days. It was evident in the letters that Draco was trying to keep his own feelings hidden, probably for Scorpius's sake, but he knew better. Sometimes Scorpius wished he could tell his father that he needed a mind healer, although Draco Malfoy was more likely to move to a remote location and become a sheep herder than to talk about his feelings.

He wiped his face on his sleeve with a sigh, and supposed he should at least tell Slughorn that wouldn't be attending because of a headache. Like Albus, he'd never missed a Potions class.

He walked to the dungeons quietly, taking his time. He took the long way, which had a lot more twists and turns, but it was a lot better when it came to avoiding people. It wasn't like there was anywhere he had to be, anyway.

He was about to push open the heavy, wooden door when he heard Slughorn's voice. He sounded like he was having a conversation, so Scorpius paused, leaning on the wall to wait. If he slowed down his breathing, he could just barely make out what Slughorn was saying.

"You have considered my offer, haven't you?" Slughorn's distant voice floated through the bottom of the door.

Scorpius moved slightly closer to the door, feeling only a little bit guilty. If the conversation had really been private, Slughorn would have had it in the comfort of his office.

"Yeah, sort of," came another doubtful sounding voice.

Scorpius's eyes widened as he realized who Slughorn was talking to. Of course it was Albus Potter, the one person in the school who'd ask him what was going on. Of all the students he could have run into, it was quite ironic that it just happened to be him. Scorpius felt like he was in a novel.

Scorpius debated leaving, but he had walked ten minutes to get there. He decided to give Albus the headache excuse as well, hoping he'd believe him. If he did, Scorpius could safely enter the quiet of the dorms, and if he didn't, well, he'd figure something else out.

"My boy, you have a real knack for potion making. I firmly believe that you'd excel with my advanced potions students," Slughorn said, and Scorpius's jaw dropped slightly. He supposed he hadn't known just how good at potions Albus really was.

"Thanks, Professor. I think maybe I will. I suppose my parents would be pretty pleased that I'm doing well in a class other than flying," Albus responded, and Scorpius couldn't help but smile a little.

Slughorn laughed, a deep, hearty sound, and he heard footsteps coming closer to the door. He quickly moved a few feet away.

"I'll look forward to seeing you, then," Slughorn was saying, and the door swung open.

Albus hadn't noticed him, and was about to head back down the opposite way.

Don't turn around, don't turn around...

And he didn't. But to Scorpius's frustration, Slughorn did, and loudly decided to announce his presence.

"Mr Malfoy!" Slughorn boomed, and Albus whipped around. "Is there something you need? I believe class doesn't start for another half hour."

Albus gave him a wave, which he returned it with what he hoped was just as much enthusiasm.

"I'll wait for you," Albus mouthed, leaning against a metal knight, looking prepared to do just that.

"You - you really don't have to..."

"I don't mind." Albus was now fiddling with the knight's sword as it looked down at him distastefully.

Scorpius nodded with a sigh of disappointment. He never thought there'd come a time where he didn't want to face Albus Potter.

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sometimes i go back and read this fic for editing purposes and i'm like holy shit, is this too fluffy? is it weird? idkkkkkk.

please vote and comment if you enjoyed!

- gxldensnitched <3