In the end, its you

Armortentia (Third year)

(Scorpius POV)

Brin finally decided that the Armortentia was done.

I couldn't help but smirk when I saw the pink potion bubbling in all its glory. 

"Well, are you going to smell it? They show you who you are attracted to." Brin said.

I leaned over and smelt the potion. I immediately inhaled a mixture of fruits and grass. More specifically, the grass on the Quidditch Pitch. Hmm... probably a Quidditch player. And someone who likes fruits.

Suddenly, an image of Potter chewing on Fruity Sugar Quills burst into my mind. Potter? That's who I'm attracted to? I scowled and shook my head. Malfoys don't fall for Potters.

Brin smiled wryly at the dumbstruck look on my face. "Like what you smelt? I bet 10 galleons that they smell like Po-"

"Goodness, no. Just because you know I'm bent doesn't mean you have to set me up with the guy that I interact with on a daily basis."

 "Exactly my point. Besides me, the only other guy you talk to everyday is Potter. the sexual tension between you guys is so thick that people are starting to bet on when both of you will give it up and just shag. My money is on Sixth Year, during Christmas. Make sure I-"

"No no no. I will never shag Potter, even if he is really fit and sexy..." I started to interrupt Brin but clammed up when I realised what I said.

"Ha, I knew it!" Brin crowed

"WhateverwewilljustgoandslipthisintoPotter'sdrink." I babbled, grabbing the potion and sweeping out of the dungeons.

(Third Person POV)

"Mate, you are so in denial." Brin muttered as he watched his flustered friend escape.

(Albus POV)

Quidditch practice was murder. Luckily, that Malfoy prat fiegned sickness and didn't come. I didn't know whether to be irritated or glad that he was absent. On one hand, I didn't need to watch my back for incoming bludgers. On the other, Malfoy's probably planning a nefarious prank for me with that asshole Zabini. And if Malfoy gets rusty, Slytherin can kiss the Quidditch Cup goodbye.

Plus, Malfoy looked absolutely fuckable in the quidditch robes, and with the rain making the robes stick to his skin- I felt myself having a slight, ah, problem. Proceeding to hid my burning cheeks, I let out a shaky breath. I did not fancy Malfoy. And never will.

"Miss me, Potter?" Scorpius purred as his long fingers caressed my shoulder. I scowled and shivered. 

It was totally because I hate Malfoy touching me.

"No. Quidditch was much better as I don't have to watch the tragic sight of you trying to fly but failing miserably. Although I'm kind of disappointed that you didn't get soaking wet." I smirked.

"Whatever." Malfoy walked away without a backwards glance.

Frowning, I picked up my cup. Usually, Malfoy had infinite snarky remarks at the ready. Him walking away without a fight seemed... off.

Inhaling the steamy smell of the tea, I let out an enamored sigh when a heady scent filled my nose. Smoke and ink. Somehow, the interesting combination reminded me of Malfoy and not tea.

Too tired to think, I drank my tea eagerly.

Polly Chapman walked in, and suddenly all I could think about was to ask her out.

(Third Person POV)

"Got it?"

"Got it."

Brin smirked at the triumphant smile on his friend's face. Scorpius wouldn't be so happy during the Hogsmead Weekend.

(Scorpius POV)

I knew that the Three Broomsticks were the Potters' go-to, so I went there an hour early, ignoring Brin's 'You're too eager, mate.'

My ears perked up as Potter's familiar laughter floated down the street. The door of the Three Broomsticks burst open and three figures strolled in, doubling over in laughter.

Potter was drunk, an empty bottle of Firewhiskey in his hands. Polly had her head on Potter's shoulder, clutching his arm. Seems like Potter was more forward than I thought. Potter's older brother followed through. When Scorpius saw the grin on his face, it wasn't hard to guess who had intoxicated Potter.

Potter pulled out a chair for Polly as they stumble to the front of the bar. Pulling Polly down, Potter planted a firm kiss on Polly's lips. Polly let out a squeak of surprise and proceeded to snog the life out of Potter.

I saw Potter's tongue dart out. I could see the people cheering, but couldn't hear them. All I could think about was that I wanted to pull them apart and Avada Polly. A sick feeling settled in my gut. It was probably his first kiss. 

I was disgusted.

I wanted to look away.

But I can't.

Then there was a problem between my thighs.

The sick feeling in my stomach and me getting hard watching my enemy snog was not a pleasant combination.

How could it get worse? Potter's older brother saw me staring at Potter and smiled. He fucking smiled.

It was totally not my fault when he ran out of Three Broomsticks screaming when cups of Butterbeer was upended onto his head. And Polly Chapman's blouse was somehow ruined too.

(Third Person POV)

Brin sat at a corner. His cheeks hurt from smiling. 

Soon after James left, Polly Chapman went out crying and left Albus alone.

Scorpius was not there to witness it as he stormed out a few moments earlier, swearing and following James. 

He decided to bet 50 galleons that the accident that James and Polly had was due to Scorpius' jealousy.

Frank Longbottom, Albus' best friend, shook his head in exasperation when Albus chased after Polly. Seriously, since when did the Potters and Malfoys become so obtuse? He thinks that it must be passed on genetically, judging by how Mrs. Potter talks about how she got together with The-Boy-Who-Lived.

He whispered to Alice, his sister. "I bet you 20 galleons that Scorpius makes the first move. I bet you another 10 galleons that Malfoy and Albus are both in denial."

"I say its mutual and that Malfoy knows he fancies Albus already."

"Deal."

"Longbottom, wanna bet how long it takes to get them together?"

"Zabini, you too? Go fuck yourself if you have nothing better to do."

"You want to bet or not?"

"Yes. 30 galleons that it is during Sixth Year Easter."

"You're on. I say it is during Christmas, Sixth Year."