'You must understand something, Journal. These things I'm feeling, they're complicated. If it hadn't been for Harry Potter, I would be dead. He saved me and I owe him my life. Even when everything else had turned to rubbish, Harry Potter was there. He was a constant and I'm thankful for that.'

Scorpius sat in his bed later that night, reading through his father's old journal again by the light of his wand. It was late and the rest of the dormitory was fairly quiet, apart from light snores behind Octavian's bed hangings.

He thought of his own situation with Albus. During the past four years of school together, they'd gotten into countless amounts of trouble and though they'd gone through brief periods where they weren't together, Albus Potter had been a constant to him like Harry Potter had been a constant to his father. When Scorpius was hurting, Albus was there to comfort him. When he was happy, he was there to rejoice with him. No matter what happened in his life, the middle Potter child had always been there to support him.

In turn, Scorpius wanted so desperately to be there for Albus. Through the hurting, through it all, he wanted the dark-haired boy to know that he was there, and that he cared for him so, so much. But what Scorpius wanted could never happen.

The two boys never stood a chance, as long as Albus was oblivious, and Scorpius a coward. When it came down to it, if anything were to happen, it would be because Rose broke her promise. And when that day came, Scorpius knew he would have to brace himself for the worst.

Albus had only ever shown interest in one person romantically: Delphini, and she'd screwed him over greatly. It was because of her that Scorpius figured Albus would never care for someone that way again, as that girl had nearly destroyed him. While Scorpius had had a stupid crush on the green-eyed boy's cousin, Albus was alone. He was always alone.

The thought of Albus so alone broke Scorpius' heart. Deep down, he knew that when that boy went home from school at the end of every hear, he went home to a house where his brother was a bastard to him and Lily was praised simply for being the youngest. Albus' mother was busy keeping a steady home for her children, always arranging events and looking after her family that she never really took time to know her family.

And Harry Potter? He was a damned fool. Too prideful for his own good, Scorpius' father always said. Though he acted like he didn't like having the hero card thrown at him, he played the game more professionally than a gambler in a casino. He was Head Auror and an otherwise absent father.

James hated his younger brother: hated the Slytherin aspect, the fact that he was somewhat squibbish, and most importantly the fact that he would most likely never amount to anything - bringing shame to the family name. James saw only the bad in Albus from the moment the young boy was placed under that Sorting Hat in their first year.

Maybe, Scorpius wondered, if Albus had been put in Gryffindor, he'd stand a fairer chance at life.

And as for Lily's involvement in Albus' life, she was too busy praising James like the rest of the family: her successful older brother, Quidditch star, and named after two people who had been class favorites during their time in school. Albus was nothing.

Scorpius frowned, wishing desperately his best friend stood a better chance. In just two years, they'd be out of this place, and then what? Harry Potter didn't seem like the person to shelter his son from the world when he failed time and time again to prove himself as a wizard. He'd be kicked aside, left to be forgotten. And Scorpius, what if nothing came out of being Draco Malfoy's son after all? The two were losers: terrible, pathetic losers.

"Scorp, you alright?" The hangings on Scorpius' bed shifted and Albus peeked his head through, catching his gaze instantly.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking, that's all." The young Malfoy admitted, expecting Albus to just slip back behind the hangings and go to bed. Instead, he climbed onto the bed and Scorpius moved aside, willing him to lie with him. As Albus got settled, the blond hid the book and dimmed the light from his wand.

The two lied facing one another, bodies close in the smaller bed, both covered by the comfortable duvet. Scorpius listened to his breathing as the green-eyed boy stared at him. He felt his heart rate quickening once again.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Albus asked and Scorpius found himself entirely too focused on the way his pink lips moved. He blushed and met his best friend's eyes again, praying he hadn't noticed the way he was staring a him.

"I dunno," the blond admitted, burrowing his head further into the pillow, shaking the two of them as he moved around. "I'm just- what are we doing?"

Albus looked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"Al, we're Fifth Years. We've got less than two years left in this place, and then what? What will we do next?"

"What do you mean?"

Scorpius began to feel as though he'd hyperventilate and Albus reached out to touch his shoulder gently, moving himself onto his back and allowing the taller boy to rest his head on his chest.

"The future. It's so close. We'll take our N.E.W.Ts and then we're out. Neither of us have even decided what we'll do once we have to leave this place for good." The blond admitted.

"Scorp, we're only fifteen. We still have time." Albus claimed, running a hand unconsciously through his best friend's soft, blond hair. Had it always been this soft?

"Time flies, Albus. You and I should know that better than anyone else. Every little action we take, everything we do, it shapes our future greatly. I'm just wondering if I might be doing something wrong." Scorpius' voice was barely above a whisper and he tried to calm himself by breathing in Albus' scent to avoid the crisis unraveling in his head.

"Is this about Rose?" Albus asked and Scorpius' head perked up, nearly knocking into his best friend's chin as he looked at him fearfully.

"What about her? Did she say something to you?" He asked, praying that he hadn't done something to make Rose do something.

"No, why? Was she supposed to? And what was with that letter earlier today?" Now Albus was the one asking the questions.

Phew, Scorpius thought. Thank Salazar.

The blond rested his head back on Albus' chest, wondering how much he could get away with before the boy would become weirded out. Experimentally, he placed his hand against the dark-haired boy's stomach.

"It was nothing. I just don't like people going through my belongings. If I want someone to know something, I'll tell them. The fact that Rose gave that letter to Bruno was just... irresponsible." Scorpius breathed.

"Do you love her?" Albus asked suddenly and Scorpius' heart clenched. His eyes went wide and in his mind, he was desperately screaming 'It's you!,' but instead, he sat up again, leaning on his elbow so he could look into his best friend's eyes, willing him to understand.

"There are far better things I could love." He whispered, eyes ghosting over Albus' lips again. If he'd been paying attention, he might have noticed Albus had a similar look on his face, but he wasn't, and so the moment faded again - wasted.

"I'm tired." Albus admitted, nestling down into the sheets, causing Scorpius to raise an eyebrow.

"So you decide you'll sleep here?"

"Eh, why not? I'm already comfy, so why jostle myself just to get comfortable somewhere else?" Scorpius had to admit that his logic did make sense, or maybe he was just blind by the fact that Albus was willingly sleeping next to him.

"Alright." He nestled into the sheets beside him and closed his eyes, unaware of Albus staring at him again. Yet another moment gone. Albus, realizing Scorpius had probably already fallen asleep, closed his eyes as well. Immediately, the blond's eyes fell open again and he watched as Albus' breathing regulated itself as he fell asleep.

He looks so peaceful, he thought, and this feels so right. But it can't be. It never will be. He closed his eyes and soon he too was asleep for real. At some point during the night, the boys found themselves completely entangled in each other, and if one were to pull apart the bed hangings, they would think these two had been together all along, when in reality, they weren't together at all.