matching wounds || 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐮𝐬

the path of forgiveness

I get in passion, and i get so savage.

I'd hurt anyone and enjoy it.

Albus was lonely.

Not lonely as usual, not lonely because he chose to be. More like forsaken. Yes; it was the exact word for how he felt. The first days he was quite enjoying it - the absence of Scorpius now brought a little relief. Albus supposed Scorpius would be holding grudges for a few more days, but then, he glanced at Scorpius the last evening, and saw absolutely nothing. There was a coldness in those grey eyes, a coldness Abus had never seen before. Perhaps because they had never had a fight before.

Of course, they were teasing each other often, sometimes Albus could even cross the line. But Scorpius would just brush him aside, or roll his eyes at his worst days. Now it was different. Better to say, now Scorpius was different. As If his best mate of five years had suddenly disappeared. Albus thought his patience must've come to an end. Who could stand him for so long, after all? Not his father, not his mother. Definitely not James. Ought to give Scorpius his credit, he might even stay for too long. So, Albus had thrown the last pebble of hope into a vast, enormous lake.

Rose fell silent after their last conversation, just approached him once to remind him about the party. Or rather, to remind him to look "presentable". As his dearest cousin remarked, he looked as If he hadn't been sleeping and eating for a week. But he was doing pretty good. Quite the opposite, actually, he was doing better than ever. He was taking just the right amount of sleep and food, then he had been training a lot, then he even made himself focus on Charms, and was now maybe not the worst, but second to last in it. And, still, he was wracked by a feeling he had never had before. Loneliness.

Nothing seemed to make sense, not without Scorpius.

"Enjoying, Potter? D'you want me to bring you a pillow?" Carla voiced, embittered. "Get on your broom! Now!"

"God, you're worse than my manic brother," he sighed. "Even he doesn't spend so much time on the field."

She winced at the mentioning of James. Albus refrained himself from a chuckle.

"You tell yourself that. Potter's here with the sunrise. Every bloody day."

"Insufferable prat." Albus laughed, and that cheered his captain a little. Carla grinned, but that, of course, didn't mean she had forgotten about the training.

This would have been his first quidditch game, but amazingly enough, he wasn't any nervous. Only a bit of excitement was pounding in him. He wanted to see James's face when he'd catch the snitch more than anything. Though Albus had no clue what made him think that he'd outflank the best seeker Hogwarts had seen in the last decade.

It'd be an understatement to say that James was a good seeker. He was beyond it - not a single game he'd lost. Gryffindor had taken the Cup every year since James became a part of the team. It wasn't just a natural gift, he had been practicing with his mom since the early childhood, and was doing so every day of the summer break.

Albus, on the other hand, couldn't even hold the broom properly during his first year at Hogwarts. He had been called loads of nice things by his peers for that; squib was his favourite, though. Not like he hadn't cast his mind around it - he was failing all the classes, and it stood to reason that he wasn't just a wizard. It happened, after all. Rarely, of course, but happened.