Hogwarts - Bonded by fate, not blood.

Chapter 22. Recipe for the broken heart (NEW)

- Back at Malfoy Manor -

As Y/N and Scorpius stepped through the Floo and into Malfoy Manor, the ornate grandeur of the entryway felt strangely jarring after the warmth (and drama) of the Potter's party. The echoing silence amplified the ache in Y/N's chest, a cold counterpoint to the burning image of Albus and Talia.

Suddenly, the aroma of burnt sugar wafted from the kitchen, followed by a clatter and a muffled curse.

Y/N's lips twitched despite herself.

Then, there he was, Scorpius, standing in his socks, sleeves rolled up, shaking a pan with exaggerated rhythm over the stove - looking utterly ridiculous but somehow endearing. It was clear he was deliberately putting on a show.

Scorpius glanced over his shoulder and caught her watching, his silver eyes twinkling. He grinned, the expression genuine and unguarded.

"Oh, you've caught me." he said dramatically, feigning shock. "One of my many secret talents - making emergency popcorn when someone's acting like a total git."

Y/N blinked, momentarily taken aback, and then, to her own surprise, a small laugh escaped her lips, slicing through the cloud of sadness. "Even if the 'git' is your best friend?"

Scorpius scoffed, deftly tossing a handful of golden popcorn into a waiting bowl. "Especially if it's my best friend," he retorted, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of sincerity. "Sometimes they need a solid dose of reality. And possibly a sugar-induced coma."

She gave him a searching look. He winked, the gesture boyish and comforting.

"Go upstairs, freshen up," he said, nudging the bowl toward her with his elbow. "I'll cue up the most tragically awful Christmas movie I can find. One with tragically fake snow and people falling in love after knowing each other for approximately three minutes."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on his. "And you'll make fun of it with me?"

"I'll critique the acting with the scathing expertise of someone who clearly has no dramatic training whatsoever," he promised solemnly, holding up a hand as if taking an oath.

She lingered a second longer, watching him work, the clatter of the pan and the scent of popcorn filling the vast kitchen. And for that brief, warm, popcorn-scented moment, the sting of Albus's rejection didn't feel quite as sharp.

She offered him a small, grateful smile. "You're not so bad, Malfoy."

He smirked, reaching for the salt shaker. "Careful. Say that too loudly, and I'll have to start actually living up to the compliment. And where would the fun be in that?"

With that, she turned and headed upstairs, feeling a little lighter than before. Maybe she was just a friend, a confidante, someone to share laughter and bad movies with. But right now, she wasn't alone. And that mattered more than she wanted to admit.

When Y/N disappeared up the grand staircase, the quiet of the Manor returned - only now, it felt heavier, more laden with unspoken feelings. Scorpius stood still in the kitchen, his fingers loosely gripping the bowl of popcorn, staring absently at the space she had just occupied.

He wanted to follow her, to ask if she was alright, to perhaps say something incredibly stupid and irreversible.

But instead, he swallowed the urge, reminding himself of the precariousness of the situation. Thin ice, he thought. Not just because Albus had feelings for Y/N, but because if Scorpius crossed that line, and she didn't reciprocate, he wasn't sure he could bear going back to just being her friend.