Must Have Done Something Right / Scorbus

Chapter 8 / Apologising to Scorpius 101

Albus stopped outside the door to the dormitory—the sound of muffled crying carried through the wood. His stomach disappeared at the sound of Malfoy's palpable distress. He debated whether or not he should enter the door at all. Words of comfort never came easily to Albus, much less to a boy he barely knew. He wasn't even sure whether the new status of their almost-friendship would allow him to enter. Would it be normal? Would Malfoy think him weird? Would Malfoy even want to see his face after what just happened? Albus wouldn't be surprised if the blond hated him even more than before they had even begun ... whatever this was.
A muffled moan of agony from inside his room pierced his ears, and with a deep breath, Albus made his decision and opened the door.
He saw Malfoy immediately, curled on his far bed in the fetal position, his thin shoulders trembling with every breath. He was turned away from the door and made no acknowledgment that he knew Albus had entered.
Albus crept slowly closer.
"Go away," Malfoy breathed in the silent room.
Albus stopped, and was about to take heed and leave, when he realised that would be a cowardly thing to do. His father wasn't Harry Potter for nothing. Taking a breath, Albus said, "Malfoy, it's me."
"Please, go away," he begged once more, his words getting caught up in another body-shuddering sob and wet sniffles.
Albus stepped closer still and reached Malfoy's bed. He looked down on the blonde's huddled form and saw his cheeks shining with tear tracks. What should he say? Albus wracked his brain for something to say. He wanted to apologise; he wanted to defend Malfoy; he wanted to say that he thought Matt was wrong; he wanted to confess his guilt; he wanted to comfort Malfoy, but all he could possibly say was, "I'm sorry."
Another sob rippled through Malfoy. Albus saw him squeeze his eyes shut as a couple more tears escaped and ran down his face. He felt every tear like a nail through his chest.
"I'm so sorry, Malfoy," Albus whispered, this time more desperately, wanting the blond to understand all he wanted to say.
Malfoy didn't respond for a while, and Albus felt disheartened. But then...
"Why?" was his quiet question, murmured from behind a clenched fist.
Albus didn't know what to say in response. He stood there stupidly, frantically thinking of words to say.
After a while, Malfoy spoke again, in a voice that was almost a whisper. "You've never cared before. Why now?"
Guilt coursed through Albus. It was true. How many times had he seen Matt or Bryce or any of his other friends tease and mock and abuse Malfoy to tears? How many times had he laughed with them? How many times had he ever noticed Malfoy? Why now? Albus found himself asking the very question Malfoy wanted answering.
"It's different now," Albus responded thickly. "Something's changed."
"We're not friends, Potter," Malfoy said, more tears leaking out and wetting his pillow. "You have no obligation to me."
He didn't understand—he thought they were becoming friends. Albus' eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Didn't Malfoy want to be friends with him?
"But ... I thought ..." Albus began, not knowing how to continue.
Before he could, Malfoy said, "You don't have to be here. Go back down to your... f-friends." Even as he said this, another sob wracked his body and he buried his face into the pillow as if he wanted to suffocate himself.
"I don't want to," Albus said. "Malfoy, what they did ... what they said ... it was wrong of them." The blond didn't say a word in response, so Albus said softly, "And—I was wrong, too ... I—I should have said something, but I didn't ..." Then he carefully sat down on the edge of Malfoy's bed and said once more, "I'm sorry ... please forgive me."
After a long minute of pregnant silence, Malfoy finally shifted from his curled position and pushed on his thin arms to sit up. As he turned to face him, Albus noticed his normally impeccable hair was sticking up in all directions, his pale face was now pink and flushed and his eyes were big and wet, staring right into Albus' soul. Albus wasn't sure who felt more vulnerable at this point—he or Malfoy.
Albus found he couldn't look him in the eye, and turned his attention to Malfoy's sheets instead.
After a long silence, Malfoy whispered, "I don't blame you." Albus looked up. "You couldn't have said anything anyway ... not if you wanted all of Hogwarts to hate you." A tiny smirk, barely there, lifted a corner of Malfoy's lips.
"Doesn't make me feel any less of a prat," Albus offered.
"Oh, I never said you weren't a prat," Malfoy said. It took Albus a few seconds to realise he meant it as a joke and he smiled a little. "Look," Malfoy said, wiping his face, "Don't worry about me. I've bounced back from worse before. I mean, I've got another two years here and then I never have to see them again." It went without saying that he never had to see Albus again too, but for some reason, Albus found he couldn't stomach the thought.
"How—how can you stand it all?" Albus asked, peering cautiously into his face
"With difficulty," Malfoy whispered.
"Have you ... I mean, have you ever told anyone about it?"
Malfoy snorted. "Like who? McGonagall? Pomfrey? My father?" He shook his head. "No ... I'd rather they didn't know."
"But surely your dad could do something," Albus said.
Malfoy smiled. "It took him some time to come to terms with my preferences. Now if I tell him that I get hell because of it ... I don't know ... I just rather he didn't know," he said softly. "Plus, what would your friends think about that? The fag running to his daddy for help," he said sardonically.
"Well, there are your friends. Zabini and Parkinson ..." Albus said, trailing off, knowing even before Malfoy said it that they weren't that much help, if today's incident were any indication.
They remained sitting in silence for a minute or so, facing each other on Malfoy's bed. Albus kept replaying the night's scene in his mind and found he was getting increasingly annoyed.
Then Malfoy said suddenly. "You've got my book."
It was only then that Albus remembered that he picked it up and he'd been clutching it in his hands the whole time. "Oh yeah ... I picked it up off the floor ... you dropped it," he said, handing it over to him.
Malfoy took it with trembling fingers. "Thank you."
"Any time," Albus said.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Both he and Mel had a free hour after their first period the following day, and she had convinced to spend it sitting by the lake, watching the tentacles of the Giant Squid pop up at random occasions. Albus sat next to his girlfriend, his eyes not really staring at anything, and his ears not really listening to what Mel was saying.
"...but Georgia got really upset because she actually really wanted to go, but she's too stubborn to say anything, you know?"
Albus muttered, "Yeah," knowing she would want a response, no matter how pathetically delivered. He couldn't bring himself to be interested in whoever this Georgia person was, much less her problems. His mind was stuck on Malfoy.
"...so I told her that the best thing to do would be to just get over it. I mean, he would want to know what she's thinking, right? Am I right?"
Albus nodded, still staring blankly out at the lake.
While Mel prattled on about her Gryffindor friends, Albus' mind wandered off. He was worried about Malfoy. He was worried that at any moment, Matt and his other friends could erupt and start yelling at Malfoy again. He wasn't sure how much the blond could handle, but Albus would rather not find out. From where he stood, Albus figured that he was completely trapped. On one hand, there was his Quidditch teammates he'd had since his first year. Matt especially, who had been his closest friend since the Sorting Hat proclaimed that 'Potter, Albus' would be in Slytherin as well as 'Morion, Matthew'. They'd pulled pranks together, ditched class together, broken school rules together, everything.
And now, on the other hand, enter Scorpius Malfoy, who had never really taken up significant space in Albus' life until this year. In the short time of just a few weeks, Albus found himself constantly thinking about the boy. Before the start of term, Malfoy had just been another student in his grade, in his dormitory, who was worlds apart from him. He was the weird one, the different one—the victim of most of Matt's pranks and insults. Albus confessed that there were times he, too, took part in making Malfoy's life horrible. Mostly though, he stood back and shared laughs with his friends as they called Malfoy names, ruined his clothes, charmed his blonde hair orange, stolen his personal things and made sure that everyone else thought of Malfoy the same way they did.
Suddenly, Albus was furious. He was livid at himself and Matt and his team as he recalled every horrible thing they had made Malfoy endure. Bile rose in his throat, making his mouth feel like he had just swallowed Bubotuber Pus. He couldn't understand why Malfoy could stand the sight of him, let alone talk to him after everything they had done. The urge to run to Malfoy right then and apologise filled him.
"...the other day when I finally told—where are you going?" Mel asked, mid sentence.
Albus realised he had stood up. "I'm just...I've got to go. Something to do. See you later, okay?"
"Are you alright? You've been a bit off all day. Is something wrong?" she asked in concern, staring at Albus closely.
Yes, Albus thought, something is definitely wrong. "Everything's fine," he lied, "I just need to go now."
"Well, I'll come with you," she said, standing up and brushing her skirt.
"No!" he said too quickly, "No, you don't have to. I mean, I'm just going...it's nothing, I just ..."
Mel looked at him. "Albus, you've always been the worst liar in the world. Now tell me what's wrong."
Albus forced himself to take a deep breath to calm himself. "Mel, please, I can't explain now, okay? I've got to go somewhere, and I'll see you at lunch."
"Well...ok," she said uncertainly, clearly not happy with the situation.
But that was all Albus needed to hear. He quickly pecked her cheek, muttered a quick, "bye", and raced back up to the castle.
He knew Malfoy was in class, but he just needed to see him; to speak with him.
Albus ran to the Arithmancy classroom.