what our fathers never had ( ✓ )

chapter three

Time's wearing down, Scorpius. You wouldn't want your little secret exposed, would you?

Scorpius stared down at the neatly written handwriting on the yellowish piece of parchment he'd received over breakfast the following morning and frowned. He tucked it away quickly, noticing Albus staring at him from the corner of his eye and gulped, stuffing a piece of toast into his mouth.

"Everything alright, Scorp?" The green-eyed boy asked, frowning at his best friend as the blond chewed diligently on his toast.

"Mmm," He muttered, swallowing down the bread and taking a drink before going to talk. "Dad's sale has hit a bump." He lied. He felt horrible. Just last night, he'd promised no more secrets, but this one... Albus could not know this one, not at any cost.

The person who'd written him the letter was threatening him, and he knew he'd need to come up with more unique ways of payment. He could not let Albus know, and he would do anything to keep him uninvolved.

"Oh," Albus spoke quietly, drinking from his goblet. "I'm sorry."

When breakfast finished, the two made their way out of the Great Hall to prepare for their first day of classes. In their dorms, they got dressed in their school robes and when Scorpius turned around, he found Albus staring at him, causing him to be more self-conscious.

Nervous, he pushed past the dark-haired boy and walked towards the door, faltering before he opened it, and glanced back at his friend.

"You coming? We can't be late on our first day back." That seemed enough to spark Albus out of his stupor, and the pair made their way towards the Potions classroom. In class, after the two took their seats, the green-eyed boy continued to stare at Scorpius, but he tried his best to ignore it, feeling another pair of eyes training on him from the front of the classroom.

He gripped the side of the table, and his knuckles whitened as he stared straight ahead, where the professor stood writing his name on the chalkboard, though they were all quite familiar with him.

~△⃒⃘~

Albus Potter sat alone during his free period, rewriting his notes from that morning, as he'd been quite distracted during his classes with Scorpius, and his handwriting had been greatly affected because of it.

He recovered as much of the writing as he could, and faltered as a shadow cast over him. He glanced up and found his brother James staring down at him, sporting his Head Boy badge proudly.

"Afternoon, James." The fifteen-year-old muttered, and then glanced back down at his notes as the seventeen-year-old moved to sit beside him.

"Afternoon, Albus. No Scorpius?" The prefect smirked, and Albus rolled his eyes. His brother was simply loving the fact that the two boys were having a riff. Much like their uncle, James didn't favor the Malfoys at all, even though their own father was at least attempting to give the family a chance.

Albus, in turn, glanced up again across the courtyard where his supposed best friend was leaning against a tree, flirting with and snogging Rose Granger-Weasley. James followed his gaze, and burst into a fit of laughter, which then turned to disgust.

"What Rosie sees in him, I'll never understand." He claimed, and crossed one ankle over the other. Albus watched his brother's movements, and felt more miserable as James got comfortable beside him.

"I don't get it either." He stated through gritted teeth, and then set down his ink and quill.

"Albus Severus Potter, you are ridiculous!" James claimed, laughing at his brother's sour mood. The aforementioned only looked at the Gryffindor in confusion.

"Why are you even sitting with me, James? Don't you hate Slytherins? Aren't I just a slimy snake to you? It can't be because you're recognizing me as a brother, no, that'd be ridiculous." The younger spat, standing in frustration, causing his brother to stand as well, as he did not like being talked down to - physically, or verbally.

"Prefects are supposed to proudly represent house unity. Help all students. It earns our houses more points the better we behave." James answered honestly. "And I want to make sure Gryffindor wins the House Cup - again."

"You win like every year."

"No, Ravenclaw actually won when I was a third year. That was a disappointment." James smirked, leaning against the tree Albus had been sitting against before his brother had intruded.

"Why not give another house a chance?" Albus asked, even though he knew his brother would never agree to that. Honestly, he just wanted to arrogant prat to leave. In all actuality, James Sirius Potter was the embodiment of everything that their uncle Ron always claimed Draco Malfoy had been like. He was just waiting for the day he heard his brother call a Muggle-Born a Mudblood.

"Giving another house a chance would be like telling the world that you're a coward. Unlike you conniving little snakes, Gryffindors are not cowards."

"Yeah, but you are ignorant, and too prideful for your own good." Albus muttered, and before James could respond, their youngest sibling came running over to them.

"James, James! Professor McGonagall told us we're having a Hogsmeade trip next weekend!" Lily exclaimed, bouncing in excitement. "I'll get to see Uncle George!"

"That's great, Lily." James smiled at the young Gryffindor, and Albus leaned against the tree, feeling unwanted. His sister stopped jumping, and noticed Albus and offered a smile.

"Will you be going? Dad signed your form, right?" She asked, and he shook his head.

"He signed it, but I don't think I'm interested this time. Bring me back something, huh?" He offered, and his sister nodded, leaning up to peck him on the cheek before running off to her Gryffindor friends.

"You won't go, but you'll have our sister spend her own allowance on something for you? What a pathetic, selfish little Slytherin." James shook his head, shoving his brother rather harshly before walking off to his group of friends from Quidditch.

Albus stood up from where he'd fallen into the dirt and dusted off his robes, a deep frown on his face. James was the pathetic one, not him.

~△⃒⃘~

Scorpius stood alone in the boys' dormitory following dinner, as everyone else remained in the Common Room, and he sighed as he removed the parchment from his pocket. It had gotten crumpled throughout the day, but as he used a revealing charm to uncover it, a small pouch revealed itself. He decided fifteen galleons ought to be enough for one day.

Disgusted, he put the money into the pouch and placed it on his bedside table, figuring he'd run it up to the Owlery in the morning. He wiped his face on the back of his robes, hating that he'd even told his blackmailer the secret to begin with.

He'd been desperate - stupid, even. And now, his allowance was decreasing greatly every day that he covered himself from the truth. He began rummaging through his trunk, and came across the small, leather-bound journal left uncompleted in his father's library.

It had been his father's, and covered the events following his sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts. It spoke of a duel in the bathroom, which had led to a turning point in Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter's relationship, and of a Fiendfyre, and how, following it, Scorpius' father had grown rather affectionate towards Potter. It also held other secrets, to which he figured he'd receive a rather anger-induced punishment if his father ever knew he'd found the old journal.

However, Scorpius loved this journal, because he saw his dad in a much different light than the composed businessman he knew him as now. Also, he'd be lying if he said the journal hadn't been influencing an interesting affection of his own towards a certain Potter, but that was another secret for another time.