Chapter 10: We Were Victims Of The Night

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Chapter 10: We Were Victims Of The Night or, I Gotta Go, But My Friend Can Stick Around

Rating: M mainly for language, and I can't discount any funny business later on

Disclaimer: I work with only what the infallible J.K. Rowling has given me.

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It had always been imperative to Scorpius to keep his feelings in check, under wraps. Of course, he usually preferred denying such feelings even existed and, after seventeen years, he had gotten pretty damn good at it.

He walked to Potions much like he had walked everywhere that day - with an emptiness in his chest, a numbness to his brain, though it felt as if something — no, maybe everything — was trying to get out, make itself known. He only had to stumble for a second, trip up that iron wall he worked so hard to keep up, and it would all come tumbling out.

It was thus crucial to Scorpius that he would not stumble for any second at all.

But it had almost happened once, twice — maybe more times than that. His traitorous brain refused to forget the feeling of the weight of her hands on his shoulders, the scent of her as she lifted onto her toes to whisper into his ear -

With an inhale so quick it sounded horribly like a gasp, he came to and realised he had almost dropped the wrong ingredient into his cauldron. Without thinking, he swept his hand underneath the vial as two drops spilled out, and the nightshade burned in his palm with a hiss. He wrenched his hand away and grabbed his wand, curled his fingers into a cup and whispered, "Sana ignis". He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath as his skin smoked.

Fucking stupid brain, he thought to himself viciously. Stupid teenage brain.

"Mr Malfoy? Is everything alright?"

Scorpius looked up with the intent of meeting his Professor's curious gaze, but his stupid, treacherous eyes found her instead, if only for a second. Those eyes, those deep blue eyes that could change everything if he didn't get his fucking act together, were wide, the very same ones he had seen all night, shining brightly in the club, and then hours later as sleep refused to claim him. He didn't even like blue eyes.

"Everything's fine, Professor," he muttered. "Just fine."

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"I need you to do rounds with Malfoy tomorrow night."

Rose coughed violently as she inadvertently swallowed her entire cup of orange juice, and she blinked as she hastily looked around to see if anyone had noticed the commotion. Upon noticing Al's slightly amused expression, she recovered herself and eyed him. "Why? Have you two had your first friend fight?"

Al motioned for the young boy next to him to scoot along and propped his leg up on the bench. "You know that Charms essay we have due?"

"Mm."

"I haven't done it yet."

Rose shrugged. "Oh, well, me neither."

Al shook his head and crooked an arm around his knee. He pointed his fork at his cousin. "No, you haven't finished it yet, I haven't even thought about it, much less started it."

Rose sighed. "Al."

"Oh, please, Rosie. I swear, I'm not usually like this, it's just I've been a little preoccupied recently-"

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