Must Have Done Something Right / Scorbus

Chapter 40 / Knowing Me, Knowing You

Scorpius woke up to the sounds of Albus' guitar. The soft, gentle thrumming of the strings almost caressed the hazy aura that accompanied the almost-dawn of the outside sky.
When Albus' voice joined the simple chorus, it sent shivers down Scorpius' spine.
The song Albus was singing this morning must have been chosen deliberately. There could be no other explanation for how well the lyrics suited their mess of a situation, and it left him wondering if Albus had finally discovered that Scorpius knew about his secret hobby.
He's everything you want, he's everything you need
He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be
He says all the right things at exactly the right times
But he means nothing to you and you don't know why.
Scorpius closed his eyes and pictured Albus sitting cross-legged on his bed, strumming his instrument and speaking words Albus had been dying to say. He was singing about Eamon—that much was obvious. It was no secret to Scorpius that Albus hated the Ravenclaw and wanted Scorpius to end things with him. But for what purpose? Was it simply for Albus' selfish gains? Because he felt lonely and wanted Scorpius at his side again?
Or was it because Albus was jealous of Eamon, but too stubborn to say it?
Flashbacks of their conversation three days ago in this very dormitory overtook Scorpius' mind for a moment. Albus had said that he didn't love Mel anymore, that he broke up with her, and that kissing Scorpius had left him feeling confused and scared. But why? Scorpius almost groaned with the effort of unravelling Albus' mind. Was it because he was freaked out for having kissed a gay boy? Because he had kissed his best friend? Was it because Albus had enjoyed the kiss and was too bloody scared to face the implications? Because Albus had feelings for him?
Scorpius tried to pretend that it wouldn't matter even if he did.
I am everything you want, I am everything you need
I am everything inside of you that you wish you could be
I say all the right things at exactly the right times
But I mean nothing to you and I don't know why—
Albus' song ended abruptly as his hand slapped across the strings of the guitar, stopping the music. But the words continued to echo in Scorpius' mind. They were a falsehood, because whether Scorpius tried to deny it, Albus did mean something to him. He always would.
The sun had yet to rise, and Scorpius decided there was still enough time to fall back asleep, if only to stop all his questions.
Silence pervaded the dormitory once more, until Albus broke it again. This time though, he wasn't singing.
An almost inaudible breathy whisper escaped from Albus' bed. "Scorp..." It sounded unstable and vacillating, as if he was close to tears.
Scorpius held his breath and dared to listen to more.
"Scorp ..."
A pause.
A loud sigh.
"What are you doing to me?"
He stared at his curtains in the direction of Albus' bed; he didn't know what he meant. I'm not doing anything. At least, not intentionally.
A full minute passed. The only noise was Albus' breathing.
"What's happening?"
It was the second time he had asked this question, and once again, Scorpius had no answer.
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"I can't believe you don't like Quidditch."
After finally succumbing to Eamon's persistent invitations to go to Hogsmeade with him on the weekend, Scorpius was not impressed to now be squashed on a tiny table for two shoved against a window of the Three Broomsticks. The place was overcrowded with students wanting to escape the winter weather outside. He had hoped Eamon had a better plan for them than to join to the rest of Hogwarts for a Butterbear—which still hadn't arrived. Clearly, he hadn't. And now, dressed impeccably in his long gray wool coat—Burberry's finest—his favourite skinny denims, and a pair of black leather boots—which were covered in that disgusting sludge mixture of snow and dirt—Scorpius was beginning to think they would have been better off in the castle.
"Sorry?" he said—or yelled, more like it—cupping his ear in Eamon's direction, telling him to speak louder. The table of fourth year girls behind him were making it impossible to talk at normal conversation decibels.
"I can't believe you don't like Quidditch!" Eamon said again.
It was a sure sign that they were running out of conversations—they had had this one at least twice.
Scorpius decided not to answer, but simply shrugged in response, knowing it was rude and disagreeable. But being pestering day after day to go to Hogsmeade with Eamon; he had expected something more. Something like a leisurely walk through the main street ("It's too cold for that," Eamon had said), or a browse through some of the clothing stores ("People will see us!" he had complained—which had incensed Scorpius. How was it okay for people to see Eamon snogging him, but not okay to be seen shopping?). It hadn't escaped Scorpius' memory that Albus had already done both those things with him, and he probably would again if Scorpius had asked.
"I'll go check on the Butterbeers!" Eamon yelled, pointing to the counter where a gaggle of Hufflepuffs were gathered.
"Okay," Scorpius agreed, watching the Ravenclaw leave and push through the multitude, before turning to face the window.
Hogsmeade had transformed into a brilliant and soft white over the past month, creating a winter wonderland that Scorpius was longing to experience. Snow was everywhere: covering the main street, drooping lazily on rooves, and falling gracefully from the sky. As his chair was rudely bumped from behind, he scowled at his current predicament. Indoors and claustrophobic. At least the table of fourth-year girls decided to leave then, allowing Scorpius to actually be able to hear his thoughts.
"Can I sit here?"
The voice was as familiar as his own; Scorpius would know it anywhere. His heart began beating harder of its own accord. Turning away from the window, he saw Albus standing hesitantly at his table, gesturing to Eamon's empty seat. He was wearing jeans and an adorably cute—yet fashionably disastrous—green woollen jumper that featured a large silver A in the middle. Scorpius had seen the jumper before and often wondered why Albus didn't burn it. Now, though, Scorpius didn't care that he would never be caught dead in the thing. Right now, on Albus, Scorpius wondered if anything could be so endearing.
The time it took for him to answer his question stretched on and Scorpius could see the brief hope on Albus' eyes dimming as his muscles tensed from the fear of rejection. Against his better judgement knowing that Eamon would arrive soon and knowing that he didn't owe Albus anything, Scorpius knew he would eventually yield.
"Sure," he said, biting his bottom lip and hoping to Merlin he didn't just open yet another messy can of worms.
Albus sat tentatively, but Scorpius saw the flash of hope return to his countenance.
There was silence once more, and Scorpius wasn't going to say anything. If Albus wanted to sit at his table, then Albus needed to speak first. Scorpius turned to face the window again; partly to make a point, and partly because staring at Albus any longer would likely incite old feelings again.
Eventually, Albus spoke.
"I would think," he began, "you'd be outside on a day like this." He paused and Scorpius could feel his gaze burning into his right cheek. "You love the cold."
Albus knows that, Scorpius thought, but Eamon doesn't. He blinked and silently cursed his inner voice at pointing out facts that Scorpius already knew, but didn't want to dwell on.
"I'm here with Eamon," he said, primarily to remind himself that, indeed, he was. He still didn't turn away from the window, and tried to focus on the falling snow to stop himself from turning to Albus.
"Oh," said Albus. "Where is he?"
"Getting us Butterbeer", he answered before thinking.
Peripherally, he saw Albus nod imperceptibly. Scorpius knew exactly what he was thinking. Sure enough, Albus voiced what was on both their minds. "Does he know you don't like Butterbeer?"
Scorpius didn't answer. Instead, he
propped his head up on his hand and
leaned further towards the window in
an effort to physically restrain himself
from turning to him. Albus had made
his point: if there was ever a test on
who knew Scorpius better, then Albus would be the victor. There was no just
no way he was going to say it out loud explicitly. Albus needn't know that he
was having trouble in his relationship
with Eamon.
"I better go," Albus said suddenly, looking up towards the counter. "I think your Ravenclaw's on his way back. I wouldn't want to ... cause a scene." Eamon being referred to as his Ravenclaw got on his nerves as much as it did Albus', whose jaw was clenched and teeth gritted. He dropped the angry look, though, when he continued. "We didn't get to talk for long but ..." he paused as he stood up and offered Scorpius one of his trademark sideways smile that seemed to be directly attuned to Scorpius' palpating heart beat, "...I'm glad we did. See you later, Scorp."
He left Scorpius in a daze as memories of their friendship overcame him for a moment. Albus obviously still affected him as much as he did before it all hit the fan.
His musings were cut short by the return of Eamon, carrying two full mugs of Butterbeer. He placed them on the table with pride.
But suddenly, the sight of the two steaming mugs made him reach a point where the unsaid could no longer remain silent.
"Do you know I don't like Butterbeer?"
The smile dropped from Eamon's face. "Why not?"
Scorpius shrugged. "I just don't."
"You never told me."
"You never asked. You just assumed and ordered for me," Scorpius said plainly. There was no anger in his tone.
Eamon frowned and looked at Scorpius like he was suddenly speaking a different language. "But it's brilliant!"
"I also don't like coming all the way to Hogsmeade in winter and spending all my time in here," he said, certain he was pushing the boundary. "Did you know that I love winter?"
Confusion creased Eamon's face, as if wondering why he was suddenly being peppered with questions he didn't know the answers to. "What's your point, Scorp?"
Inexplicably, anger simmered inside Scorpius.
Eamon continued. "Look, if you don't want to drink the Butterbeer, that's fine. I'll go outside with you too, if you want."
Scorpius shook his head. "That isn't what I want. What I want ... is to know why you don't know more about me. If we're supposedly going out, then shouldn't we know each other?"
"Supposedly?" Eamon repeated. "We are going out."
Scorpius should have known that that was the one thing Eamon would comment on; not the rest of it that mattered.
"This isn't about knowing me, is it?" he asked, looking at Eamon's dumbfounded expression and realising that he and Eamon were never on the same page. "This is about you."
"What are you talking about?"
"Why do you like me?" Scorpius responded with his own question.
"Where is all this coming from?" Eamon asked.
"Answer my question," he asked. "Why do you like me?"
Eamon looked up and away, exasperated. He opened and closed his mouth a few times to answer, before he finally settled on, "Because ... you're smart and attractive and ... I don't understand what you mean by all of this."
"Anything else?"
Eamon began to get angry. "What do you mean?"
"Are my attractiveness and intelligence the only two things that you like about me?" Scorpius restated, desperately wanting an answer.
"No! Merlin, Scorp, there's more!"
"What else?"
"Why are you interrogating me? Have I done something wrong?" he asked wildly. "Is this because I didn't know what your favourite season is?"
"No! This is about you wanting to be with me only because of the benefits you get from this relationship. I helped you come out, I helped shape your image, and I'm the one you snog whenever you feel like it. But where am I in this equation?"
"None of that is true!"
"Then why can't you answer my question?" Scorpius asked. After a long and silent pause, he said, in a softer voice, "Look—you like the idea of a boyfriend, Eamon ... but I'm not sure if you like me."
He was met with silence, and Scorpius wondered if he was doing and saying the right things. This conversation wasn't planned and his heart was pounding wildly with apprehension, but in a way, he was glad it happened. It needed to be said.
One minute stretched into two, before Eamon, his head lowered, finally spoke. "This is because of Potter, isn't it?"
Scorpius expelled a loud breath of indignation. "Merlin, you need to get rid of this insane jealousy you have of Albus. This is about you and me, not him!"
Eamon remained quiet, obviously seething with envy. When he made no sign of continuing the conversation, Scorpius stood up.
"I need to be alone," he said, plucking an excuse from nowhere. "I'll see you later."
He wove through the students still cluttered around the counter, heading for the door. The instant he stepped outside, Scorpius took in a deep breath and enjoyed the way shivers overtook his skin.
The main street was decorated in all manners of Christmas, and Scorpius revelled in the veritable wonderland before him. The Three Broomsticks may have been full to the brim with students, but there was still a fair amount of them outside, drifting from store to store and throwing snowballs at each other. He smiled and began meandering down the snow-covered road, determined to not let his unpleasant conversation ruin the rest of his day.
"Couldn't resist, huh?"
He spun and saw Albus standing behind him, hands in his pockets, a trace of a smile on his face.
"Sorry?"
"I knew you couldn't stay inside for much longer. This day's practically got your name written all over it." There was now a definite smile on Albus' face, which coaxed a smirk out of Scorpius, as much he tried to stop it. Albus glanced around. "Where's Eamon?"
Scorpius bit his lip while he cast his eyes in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. "He's probably drinking his Butterbeer," he guessed.
Scorpius knew Albus wanted to know more, but to his credit, he remained quiet, and Scorpius was glad for it. He didn't want Albus to know about their argument.
They stood awkwardly opposite each other in silence for a moment. It wasn't for lack of conversation topics, however. There were hundreds of them. Scorpius knew it was because they were too cautious yet, and didn't want to step on each other's toes.
Lily's words reverberated in his ears.
"He's waiting for you to step up."
Albus took a deep breath and decided to take his sister's advice. If taking initiative would get him Scorpius back, then he'd do it, despite how terrifying the prospect of being rejected once again was.
Keeping a careful eye on Scorpius, who was hugging himself against the cold in his long coat and gloves, Albus spoke. "Well seeing as you're alone right now, how would you feel for some company?"
He saw Scorpius glance up at him, eyes a fraction wider than they normally were. He clearly wasn't expecting Albus to ask that. He tossed the idea in his head while he chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. It was a habit of his that recently had Albus mesmerised. He couldn't take his eyes of Scorpius' mouth.
He cleared his throat. "You don't have to," he said when Scorpius took his time to answer. "I was just thinking we could do some Christmas shopping together. Merlin knows I haven't started yet, and you're really good at knowing what to buy."
He maintained eye contact with Scorpius and twitched one side of his mouth up in a helpful smile.
"Okay," Scorpius agreed hesitantly.
Albus smiled in relief and nodded. "Cool." Even if Scorpius wasn't one hundred per cent certain, he had said yes, and that was a small step in the right direction.
To avoid any further awkward silence, Albus began walking slowly, and Scorpius moved with him, until they were strolling down the wintry street of Hogsmeade side by side. Albus had forgotten what it felt like to have Scorpius' mere presence at his side. It had been too long; he had missed this. He felt alive with an energy that he hadn't felt in a while.
"How have you been?" he asked, as they dodged around a group of carollers.
Scorpius looked up at him briefly. "Er ... fine," he said. "You?"
Albus decided to answer truthfully. "Not the best actually. A lot's happened lately . But ... I'm feeling okay now. Better than I've been," he answered. Because I'm with you, he added silently.
He saw Scorpius nod. "That's good."
They continued their promenade until they came to a clothing store Scorpius had once told Albus he liked.
"Let's start with this one," he suggested.
Scorpius looked up in confusion for a moment before noticing Albus gesturing to the entrance of the store. "Modern Wizardwear?" he asked in surprise. "You want to shop here?"
"You like this one," Albus stated casually, shrugging his shoulders.
"But you don't," Scorpius said, stumped as to why Albus would willingly suggest they shop here.
"Don't worry about me. Trust me, I'll be fine; I'm in good company," he said with a smile. He flushed with the deepest happiness when he saw Scorpius blush. "Besides, this is one of your favourite stores."
Scorpius looked at him with a mixture of surprise, understanding and relief. "How did you know that?" he asked.
Albus chuckled. "I know you well."

Yes, Scorpius couldn't help but think, yes he does.

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Next Chapter: "I forgive you."