Must Have Done Something Right / Scorbus

Chapter 31 / Conversations We'd Rather Not Have Part 2

When Albus had finally convinced himself to confront Mel, he hadn't counted on opposition on the way to speak to her in the form of her best friend, Georgia.
"As if I'd just let you walk right up to her after completely ignoring her for the past few weeks, like she's no one important!" she said, crossing her arms over her chest to deny him entry into the Gryffindor Common Room. The Fat Lady—Gryffindor's ever-present operatic sentinel—nodded smugly behind Georgia in her golden-coloured frame, apparently pleased at her student's resolve.
"I just want to speak to her—"
"She doesn't want to!"
"She sent me a message—!"
"Go away, you good for nothing Slytherin!" she spat. Albus had never heard his House's name sound like such an expletive.
"How dare you insult my House like that?! And besides, I need to talk to her!"
"You don't deserve someone like her. I swear, if it weren't against school rules to use magic outside of class, your penis would already have been shrunk to the size of your little finger, before being cut off and paraded to the rest of the school!"
Albus had no idea how to even comprehend where such a threat came from. He stared at the girl in confused shock, and a small bit of fear lest her threat became reality. He subtly moved his right arm, clutching his wand, forward till it rested in front of his thighs. As if his problems weren't grave and numerous enough, being castrated would not help at all.
"What is going on here?"
The Fat Lady's portrait had swung inward and Mel herself stood in the entryway, observing Georgia and Albus like a mother would her two children.
"Don't worry, Mel, I was just telling him to piss off," Georgia hissed violently, staring daggers at Albus.
He, meanwhile, sent Mel a pleading look over Georgia's shoulder. "I just got your message and I wanted to talk, that's all."
Mel laid a gentle hand on Georgia's shoulder. "It's fine, Georgie. Let me speak with him."
Georgia turned around to stare at Mel in alarm. "You actually want to speak to this imbecile?" she asked, appalled.
Hey! "I am standing right here, you know."
"No one asked you, you Troll!"
First a eunuch, now a snot-eating giant, Albus mused. At least she had an inventive list of names to call someone who had been a world-class arsehole.
"We're just going to have a chat. It'll be fine, Georgia, I promise," Mel placated her friend.
Georgia growled—actually growled—before sending another venom-filled glance at Albus and marching inside to the Common Room. Mel stepped out of the doorway and the Fat Lady swung to close the way, leaving the two students alone.
The silence that followed was about as comfortable as a wedgie, but Albus was determined to wait it out.
Unexpectedly, it was the Fat Lady that spoke first. "I don't know what you've done, young man, but you had better apologise, before I send the Knights of Camelot from the upstairs painting on you!"
Albus glared at the portrait, and then turned to Mel. "Can we ... maybe go somewhere a little more private?"
"Sure," she acquiesced.
They ended up in an unused Transfigurations classroom. Mel perched herself on one of the students' tables, and Albus remained standing, hands shoved in his pocket because he didn't want to appear twiddling his fingers.
Their silence extended far into awkward territory again.
"Mel, I don't want you to—"
"Have you made up your—"
They spoke at the same time.
Typical.
Albus smiled weakly at Mel and gestured for her to speak. "Please, go first."
"I was just going to ask if you had made up your mind yet?" she asked while looking down into her lap and swinging her legs because they didn't quite reach the floor.
Albus swallowed. Here goes nothing. "I don't want to break up with you."
Mel's head shot up in shock. She obviously wasn't expecting that. The beginnings of a smile were shaping her lips upward.
Hasting to finish his sentence to stop instilling in Mel a false happiness, Albus continued, "But ... Mel ... you have to understand ... I can't, I can't, stop being friends with him. There's no way."
Mel looked at him; her smile disappeared as if it had never been there. She said nothing, she only stared.
Albus stepped closer to her. "Listen to me, I ... know things have been different between you and me, and I know that it's because of my friendship with Scorpius, but is there no way we can work this out?" He stared into her eyes, willing her to understand him. "Why do the two have to be so against each other? Why can't I be with you as well as friends with him? I just don't ... see why I can't have you both."
"Albus," she said, void of any emotions he could identify. "I gave you two options. Me or him. Nothing else—"
"And I'm giving you a third!" Albus interrupted desperately, hating to see where she was going with that. "Why not?"
Mel exploded with reasons. "Because the more you spend time with him, the less you spend with me! He's taking priority in your life. You laugh with him the way you used to with me. The look on your face whenever you're with him was the same look you used to have when you were with me! Don't you see, Albus? He's breaking us up! And you're too enamoured with him to even notice! Honestly, if I didn't know for sure, I'd say you were—" She stopped, mid-sentence.
"Were what?" Albus insisted.
"Gay!"
"What?" Albus blurted, eyes expanding to a size significantly larger than normal. "I'm not gay!"
"I didn't say you were, I'm just saying that it would look that way to anyone who didn't know you," Mel explained. "And besides, that's not the point!"
He recovered the ability to use words. "Mel, look, I enjoy my friendship with him because I think he's a genuinely nice guy. I am not going to stop being friends with him," he said. He took a further step; he was standing right in front of her now. "But I don't want to break up with you. We've been together for so long, and I'm not going to throw that away just because you can't get along with him."
"You're saying this now, Al, because we're both here, without him, it's easy to. But give it a few days and you're going to be off with Malfoy, leaving me behind—"
"Look, I'm not saying it's not going to be different," he interrupted her. "He wasn't my friend before, now he is. Obviously, things have changed. But what I'm trying to do is fit the two of you together in my life, because I'm not willing to give up either of you."
"He's in love with you, Albus," Mel stated, completely left-field.
Albus blinked and took a step back. "Where did that come from?"
"It's been there for a few weeks now," Mel said. "You just didn't know."
It occurred to Albus that he hadn't yet asked Scorp how long he had liked him for. Suddenly, the curiosity burned him. He wanted to know. "Since when?"
"How should I know?"
"You stole his diary," he accused, trying to keep his anger out of his voice.
Mel had the grace to look a little guilty. "I don't know exactly ... a few weeks." She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "And I didn't steal his diary; I borrowed it. I was angry and jealous of him, and it was just there." She shrugged. "I had to; I needed to know what his motives were."
She sounded sincere in her own motivations, even if Albus completely disagreed with her actions. It would take years for Albus to forgive her for what she had done; especially since he had seen Scorpius inflicting pain on himself because of it.
"What I'm trying to say is," Mel said. "Malfoy wants you. And he's got it in his head that eventually your little friendship will grow into something more."
"But ... but," Albus floundered, "he knows I'm not ..." gay,his mind finished the sentence for him. Shivers caressed his skin, and his entire body shuddered. The notion had never crossed his mind before in his life. His sexual orientation had never been in question. And now in this short conversation, it had come up twice. Albus shook his head fitfully, as if trying to shake the thought off him.
"He's hoping you are," she said. "And the more you continue your friendship, the more that hope is going to grow."
Albus wasn't sure if Mel was saying those things to scare him out of his friendship with Scorpius, but if she was, it wasn't working.
"He's—apparently—liked me for weeks now and he hasn't done anything. So why would he now? Honestly, I just think he's happy that we're friends; that's all. I don't think he's expecting anything."
"But doesn't it freak you out that a queer boy, who happens to be your best friend, likes you?"
She was expecting him to say yes, but Albus said, "No, Mel. It doesn't."
She looked taken aback, her bubble burst. She didn't say anything.
"Besides, that's my concern. Scorpius, and whether or not he likes me, is only my business with him. What we need to figure out is if you're willing to be my girlfriend in light of that, because I want you to be."
Mel didn't look convinced, or happy. "What about Matt?"
Albus' expression darkened in an instant—the pleading look in his eyes was replaced by white rage and unbridled detest. "What about him?" he asked; his voice low and grave.
"Are you willing to be with me if I still consider him my friend?"
"After everything he's done to me? No way, Mel. You can't be serious."
Mel blurted, "But isn't it the same with you and Scorpius? You're telling me to keep being your girlfriend despite the fact that I hate your friend! Scorpius has ruined everything for me—"
"But has Scorp punched you in the face? Left you bloody and bruised after attacking you? Humiliated you? Hurt you? Called you names?" Albus yelled. "Mel, it is not the same! Matt's totally different! Why do you persist in being friends with that bastard?"
Mel inhaled and opened her mouth to explode in response, but stopped short, as if she had just forgotten what she was going to say. Albus knew it was because she had no real answer. Eventually, she said, "Because he remembers what our lives were like before Malfoy came into the picture, and he's trying to get it back to the same way I am."
Albus shook his head sadly; he understood her, in a twisted sort of way. He knew that the more he got closer to Scorp, the further he pushed Mel away, right into Matt's company. He forced himself to calm down. She had done a lot to hurt him lately, but he had the sense of mind to know that it wasn't all her fault. She was, largely, the victim of his own choices, just trying to chase after the one thing she really wants. Me, he thought. "Mel, that's not the answer. Being friends with Matt is just going to tear us apart. If you want our relationship to be what it was, then just tell me and we'll work it out."
Mel dropped her shoulders, looking tired and defeated. "It can never be what it was, Al; not with Malfoy around."
"But I'm willing to give it a try." He stooped his shoulders, putting himself eye level with her. "How about it? Let's give it a try, why not?" He gently placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him. "Come on. Christmas is a few weeks away—our first one as a couple. Your birthday is soon, too. I don't want us to be apart for those."
Mel seemed to be wavering on the edge of a fence, swaying to and fro. The slightest breeze could propel her on either side. After a long while, she said, "Okay, Albus. I'll give it a try. But I'm not promising to be civil to Malfoy."
Albus didn't need her to be; he just wanted an okay.
He knew he hadn't forgiven her for everything, and he also knew that he didn't love her as much as he used to; but she was his first, and she held a place inside his heart. The answer to the issue with Matt was still as elusive as mist, but Albus was too tired to continue that train of thought with Mel. He was also, as of yet, still entirely confused about where he stood with Scorpius, or even how deep Scorp's feelings were for him. But that was a stance that would take him a long time to figure out, and Mel would never wait for him for that long. They needed to have had this conversation, and he was glad they did.
But Albus was still disgruntled.
He had thought he would be much more satisfied with the result of their discussion—that he could keep his relationship with her, as well as his friendship with Scorp—but Albus experienced none of that contentment. He was hoping that his problems would feel somewhat resolved; but what remained was the feeling that the end was still out of reach, and that many more decisions would have to be made.
He wasn't completely satisfied. He felt like he still didn't have what he wanted; as if this arrangement was just temporary, and something better was coming.
The question was: what?

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Next Chapter: Quidditch ... but not without some teen boy hormones, of course.