"I caught you looking too, but you didn't look twice"

I tried to skip breakfast on Monday morning, but Al wouldn't hear of it. "When was the last time you ate? Friday? You look like you've lost ten bloody pounds in the last two days..."

"Gee, thanks," I scoffed, but I trudged after him as he headed for the Great Hall. I told myself not to worry -- told myself that she might not even be there -- but the closer we got, the more anxiety built up in my chest. How was I even going to look at her, after everything? How was I going to sit in the same room as her, knowing the feelings she stirred in my heart could never be acknowledged again? Knowing I had sabotaged my own best chance at happiness?

The worry must have shown on my face, because Al wordlessly put his hand on my shoulder for a few seconds. The pressure, slight as it was, grounded me and calmed my racing thoughts. I sent a slight smile in his direction, and he returned it. When we reached the double doors, my best friend turned to me. "D'you want me to go in first, just to see if she's even there?"

I shook my head. "I just... won't look at the Gryffindor table. Not too hard."

Albus sighed. "Alright... I'll walk in front. Just stay right behind me, and we'll go straight to our table and sit facing the wall."

I let out a huffed laugh. "You're making me feel like I'm twelve years old again."

He sighed again, not quite meeting my eyes. "I wish I really could."

If the comment was meant to distract me, it worked. Because the next moment, as he walked through the doors and I followed him, my mind was far away -- thinking about how it had felt to be twelve years old. Merlin, I had been so... so young at twelve. Physically, of course, but mentally, too. Emotionally. I didn't know yet how short a time my mum had to live. I had her and my dad, and I had Albus, and I had my standing in school. I had the dream that was Rose Weasley, not yet so far-fetched, because back then, there were fewer barriers between us. But now...

Now, she was probably staring at the back of my head as I followed Albus to the Slytherin table -- wondering how I could possibly have the nerve to show my face.

The urge to look was almost impossible to resist, but somehow, I did. I sat down at the very end of the bench facing the wall, and Albus slid in on my right. I felt his eyes on me, but I didn't say anything for a second. Then, quietly enough that the kids sitting across from us couldn't here, I gave into the temptation to ask: "Is she here?"

Al replied in an equally low tone. "Yeah. She's not with Lysa and Lily, though. She's sitting at the Hufflepuff table."

I frowned. "With what Hufflepuffs? I didn't even know she had friends in Hufflepuff."

He exhaled slowly. "She's sitting with Andy."

My shoulders tensed. "Andy, as in, Andy MacDowell, the Head Boy?"

"Yeah." His speech was cautious, like he was concerned about how I would take this information.

"Andy," I said. "As in, her ex."

"Yeah." There's a pause before he adds, "They're friends, though, you know. It was never all that serious between them... back then."

"I don't like the way you said back then."

Albus was silent.

"Al..."

My best friend glanced over his shoulder, and I didn't miss the look that crossed his face. It said there was something to see. Something I wouldn't like. "Look," he finally said, "all I'm saying is... I wouldn't look, if I were you. They're... I haven't really seen anything to confirm it, so don't take this too seriously, but there's just... a vibe. And I know you want to see for yourself, but I don't think you'll like it. So if you wanna help yourself out, maybe just... don't look."

I reached for the cup that had appeared in front of me, and took a sip. "Okay," I mumbled. "I won't look."

But that wouldn't keep me from wondering.

---

I got through the morning all right. Maybe I was a little bit antisocial -- a little snappish if someone came too close, or if they talked too boldly -- but overall, I was fine. Well... I was fine on the outside.

Al could see that I was brooding; I knew he never missed things like that. But he didn't try to comment on it... at least, not until we left the class before lunch and I turned down the hallway in the direction leading away from the Great Hall. "Scorp," he sighed, catching my arm.

I glanced back at the kids filing out of the classroom, then paced farther down the hallway before turning to face him. "I don't want to go to lunch-"

"You've got to face-"

"- because I'm not hungry, okay? Not because I'm hiding."

He levelled a glare at me. "You barely ate a thing at breakfast."

"Al, come on. Did you really expect me to? I was too busy wondering about whatever the hell was going on at the Hufflepuff table that you didn't want me to see."

The comment must have come out aggressive, because Al's expression turns defensive. "Is it so bad that I'd like to protect you for a bit? Merlin, Scorp... After all you've been through, I'd think you might be grateful--"

"Oh, please. You're treating me like a child, Al, and I'm not one. I don't need protection, alright? I don't need you to sheild me from whatever shit you think is going to hurt me. I just need... I need the truth, okay? I need to know it, so I can deal with it. And I can deal with it. I can deal with it, and I will ask for help if I need it, because there's nothing in the universe -- no truth, terrible though it may be -- that I couldn't overcome if I had your shoulder to lean on. You are... you're the best thing in my life, Albus. And I mean that with complete sincerity. I don't want to have to fight you over what I should and shouldn't be allowed to know. I just... need you to believe in me, alright? That's all I ask."

My best friend's eyes softened, but there was something different swimming in them now. Something almost tender. "I do," he says softly. "I believe in you... more than you know. But I can't help worrying... I suppose I care too much, is all." The corners of his mouth lifted into the barest of smiles. "I'll try to tone it down a bit."

My mind now settled, I put my hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it; I'm just being an oversensitive arse. I think ought to stop talking altogether... far too much stupidity has come out of my mouth in the past few days." I met his green eyes with my grey ones. "There's no such thing as caring too much."

Unexpectedly, Albus shifted away, crossing his arms and ducking his head. He muttered something I didn't catch, but the tone of his voice was dark.

I exhaled slowly, then said, "Are you ever going to tell me what's going on with you?"

His eyes flitted up to meet mine, then quickly away. "Who says there's anything?"

"Al, come on... You've never been the type to hide things, but lately I have to push hard to get the barest details of your life... You give me a few fragments, and then you pull away... There's clearly something going on that I'm not aware of."

"Maybe I've just decided it's no fun letting you be the one who broods all the time."

I scoffed. "If that was an attempt to change the subject, it was rather shoddy. We've done enough talking about my shit... and I don't mind telling you all of it! I'm glad I get to. I'm just perplexed by the fact that you no longer seem willing to tell me any of yours."

There was a long silence before Albus replied, his voice hesitant. "The things I'm dealing with... they have nothing to do with you. I don't see why I should bother you with them, when you're already dealing with so much."

"Bullshit," I shot back, almost before he was done. "You're my best friend, okay? That means I will listen to whatever's on your mind, even if it's nothing to do to with me, and that obligation will never be a burden to me. It can only be a joy. There's nothing too big and nothing too small for us to share with each other... I thought you understood that."

Al's face was creased with a worry that seemed to toe the line of pain. "I don't want to keep things from you," he said, a slight shakiness to his tone.

"So why do you?"

I watched his adam's apple bob. "I suppose I'm afraid of hurting... people."

"People?" I asked gently.

"Afraid of hurting myself, too, maybe."

I knit my eyebrows together. "Al, nothing you tell me in confidence will ever cross my lips again. You know that, don't you? Whatever you might have to say, it's safe with me. Nobody else would ever hear of it."

He exhales unsteadily. "In truth, Scorpius, it's not anybody else that I'm worried about."

I won't lie -- the insinuation of this statement send a sharp stab of pain through my chest. "When have I ever hurt you?" I protest, this response being my immediate reflex. But I want to bite back the question a second later, when he finally allows me to catch his eyes. The expression he wears holds the answer to my hasty question:

Many times.

---

I enter the Potions classroom alone, and somewhat early. After that last exchange, he'd excused himself from the conversation by saying he wanted lunch, even if I didn't. I could have gone with him, but I'd decided to stay behind. I thought it might give us both some time to think.

I was no closer to figuring out what had been irking my best friend these past weeks. All I'd managed to do was get my own feelings wounded -- although I realised they had no right to be. After all, I hadn't made it easy to be my friend, and Al had always gone the extra mile. I couldn't begin to count up all the time he had sacrificed to be a friend to me when I was drowning. He'd been my anchor in the storm -- and what had I done for him in return?

Apparently, a big fat load of nothing.

Sinking into my usual seat, I put my face in my hands with a sigh. When was I going to stop being this person? Running from my problems, hurting the people I cared about. Something needed to change...

My brooding was interrupted by a faint giggle drifting in from the hall.

A male voice followed it, saying, "Oh, will you hush? Slughorn could be just through the door." The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. A slight smirk crossed my face -- there always were those couples who spent lunch making out in the corridors.

"He wouldn't mind... I'm one of his favourites, you know, and you're untouchable."

My whole body stilled. Who the fuck is Rose hanging around hallways with?

"You can touch me all you like."

Another giggle. "Seems like I don't even need to."

"Oh, shut up... Shit, I hear footsteps."

"Just come in here!"

I stood up and whirled around just as they burst through the doorway: Rose and Andy MacDowell, hands entangled and faces flushed as they broke into a fit of laughter. "You idiot," Rose gasped, "it's not as though it matters; there's nothing secret about--"

It was at this point that her eyes caught on me. They widened for a moment, bright green and full of shock, then looked away. Andy must have realised she was looking at someone, because he turned, and smiled sheepishly at me before clearing his throat. "Um... hey, Malfoy."

I nodded a half-hearted acknowledgement, but didn't say anything to him. My gaze was entirely on Rose, as I wanted to see how she was going to play this off. Andy was, apparently, her new boyfriend or whatever... but if the courteous greeting was any indication, he had no idea about me and her. Have fun with that one, Rose.

Eyes still on the ground, the redhead cleared her throat. "So, Andy, don't you, um... have a class to get to?"

He chuckled. I watched him lift his hand and tug on her hair. "Sure, but it was more important to walk you to yours."

I saw a flush creep up her cheeks as she looked at him. "Well, I'm here... so don't you suppose you ought to run along?"

Andy raised an eyebrow. "Don't you suppose you ought to talk to me a bit more nicely? Considering, you know..." He leaned into her ear and whispered something that turned her face almost the same red as her hair.

If this was a normal situation, I would have turned away and left them to their flirting. It was the courteous thing to do -- I may have done some wildly inappropriate things in my life, but I was still raised as a Malfoy, and I understood respectful social behaviour. But... this wasn't a normal situation. It was Rose. And I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"Andy..." she sighed, a hint of amusement in her voice. Jealousy stirred inside me as I watched the way she leaned into him. She planted a soft kiss on his mouth, and I wondered if she'd forgotten I was standing here -- but as their lips separated, her gaze darted to me for a moment, and I knew she was thinking about us as much as I was. "Go," she told the Hufflepuff, playfully stern as she smacked his arm.

Andy stuck out his lower lip. "Hey, save the violence for tonight, will you?"

She didn't say anything back to that, just giggled as she shoved him out the door -- and whatever victory I had felt in the moments after she looked at me shifted into anger. What gave him the right to say things like that to her, when a month ago it would have gotten anyone who tried it slapped and told off? What gave him the right to be the one she wandered the halls with? What was it that made him so much better than me?

When he was gone, Rose turned back into the room, and I watched her gulp as our eyes met. She was trying not to let anything show on her face, but I could see the discomfort.

There was a long moment where I held her gaze, and hoped the expression she read was as cold as the fury stirring in my chest. When I said stay away, I did not mean throw yourself into the arms of the next guy who presents himself. I just meant...

What had I meant by it?

After all, I wasn't her boss. I wasn't anything. So I wasn't really telling her, was I? It wasn't a demand. Just a plea -- a desperate plea for her not to hurt me anymore.

So much for that.

Rose's lips parted slightly, as if she was about to say something, but I didn't give her a chance. "Save it," I snapped, channelling all the fury building up inside me into those two words. Then, without even looking at her face to gauge the reaction, I turned and slammed my books down on the nearest desk. This conversation (if you could really call it that) was over.

The next two minutes and thirty-one seconds (yes, I was counting) passed in tense silence, with me stubbornly flipping through my potions textbook while Rose set her things down across the room (I heard her bag connect with the floor) and then did who knows what. While flipping absently through pages, I wondered how I would ever make it through this class. Even while ignoring her, the tension between us was so palpably frigid that I could almost see my breath. I couldn't have been more grateful when, as my mental clock hit the thirty-second second of the third minute, a new pair of feet stepped into the room.

When I looked up, I saw that it was Prissy Nott. She smirked at me, one eyebrow raised, and in moments my mind was flashing back to last night, and what she'd tried to initiate. In other circumstances, I would probably have felt embarrassed -- I hadn't been that awkward about sex since I was a fourteen year old kid trying to figure it out by listening to conversations between older guys in my House. But my response last night had nothing to do with a lack of experience, and everything to do with loyalty -- loyalty which I could now see was a construct of my mind. Clearly Rose had no qualms about moving on from whatever our little fling had been. And if she didn't, why should I?

Forcing a grin, I waved at Prissy. "Come here for a minute."

I thought she might look surprised, but her smirk only widened. "Sure." It didn't take long for her to be standing in front of me, her sweater hugging every curve of her chest. "What do you want?"' she inquired, a playful sparkle in her eye.

I picked up my hand and let it rest on her thigh, then slid it slowly up past the hem of her skirt. "I think you know what I want."

Prissy laughed low in her throat. "I knew you'd miss the taste of me eventually."

I shrugged in agreement, drawing her closer as a casual grin flickered across my face. "So, what do you say to getting out of here?"

She tossed back her dark hair as she smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."