CHAPTER THREE

There was a vast difference between convincing yourself you were okay with something and truly accepting it. For Naya, who had always prided herself on being the supportive best friend, the one who stood by Scorpius through every struggle, that difference was becoming painfully clear. Her ability to remain in denial was finally reaching its breaking point.

She had tried to accept her role in his life and had told herself countless times that being his best friend was enough. But the truth was, the closer Scorpius got to Rose Granger-Weasley, the harder it became to maintain the facade.

When Albus Potter approached her that day, wearing an expression of hesitant concern, Naya already knew what he was going to say. He thought he was breaking the news to her gently, but she had known long before anyone had to tell her.

It wasn't hard to figure out. The whispers in the halls, the way Scorpius had suddenly become too preoccupied to join her for their usual study sessions—it all pointed to one thing. He had finally mustered the courage to approach Rose. The girl he'd been pining over for years. The girl everyone either thought he'd end up with or wished he wouldn't, hoping instead he'd see what was right in front of him: Naya.

"What are you going to do?" Albus asked her, his tone cautious but curious.

Naya blinked at him, her expression blank. For a moment, she considered laughing it off, dismissing his question as a joke. But then she remembered who she was talking to—Albus Severus Potter. Despite his growth over the years, he still had a way of prying when he thought it was necessary.

She forced a small laugh, shaking her head. "You make it sound like I have options."

Albus sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You do have options, Naya. He hasn't even confessed to her yet. You still have time."

Naya's laugh was sharper this time, almost bitter. "It's not about whether he confesses or not, Al," she said firmly. "It's about how he feels. He doesn't see me that way. To him, I'm a friend. That's all I've ever been, and I've realized that's all I'll ever be. And you know what? That's okay."

"But why does it have to be like that?" Albus pressed genuine confusion in his voice. "Why are you giving up?"

"Giving up makes it easier," Naya said, her voice soft but resolute. "What do you expect me to do, Al? Walk up to him now, of all times, and say, 'Hey, by the way, I've been in love with you for years'? Do you think that's fair to him? To us? I can't risk everything we have just because I couldn't keep my feelings to myself."

Albus frowned, his expression torn. He knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier to hear.

"Besides," Naya continued, her tone taking on a note of finality, "We all promised, didn't we? No secrets. No drama. The Malfoys have dealt with enough from everyone else in this school. The last thing they need is us adding to that."

There it was—the unspoken pact that had held their group together through the toughest of times. Albus, Rose, and Naya had sworn to protect Scorpius and Nova from anything that might add to the weight they already carried.

"I've accepted that I'll always just be his friend," Naya said, her voice steady but tinged with an underlying sadness. "The least you can do, Al, is respect my decision."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, leaving Albus standing there, watching her retreating figure.

"You're not as sneaky as you think you are, Scorp," Albus said suddenly, glancing over his shoulder.

From his spot against the wall, Scorpius froze, his back pressed against the cold stone. He hadn't intended to eavesdrop—at least, not at first. But once he'd overheard Naya's name, he couldn't bring himself to move.

Now, as he stared down at his hands, his mind raced, her words echoing in his ears. Naya. His Naya. She'd been in love with him all this time, and he had been completely oblivious.

How could he have missed it? The glances, the quiet moments they'd shared, the way she was always there for him, no matter what? It was like a puzzle he'd never realized he was putting together, and now that he could see the full picture, he felt both stunned and confused.

For the first time, Scorpius was forced to confront the truth he'd been too blind—or too naive—to see. Naya, the one constant in his life, the person who had stood by him through every storm, had been hiding feelings far deeper than friendship. It hit him like a wave, overwhelming and unrelenting, leaving him drowning in a sea of emotions he couldn't name.

Guilt crept in first, sharp and unyielding. How could he not have noticed? Naya had always been there—her smiles, her laughter, her unwavering support. She had been his anchor in a world that often felt chaotic and unkind. And yet, he had never looked closely enough to see what lay beneath her steady gaze.

Then came regret, an ache that settled deep in his chest. How many moments had he missed? How many times had she silently hoped for something more, only to push those feelings aside for his sake? He thought back to the years they'd spent together—her encouragement when he faltered, her fierce defence when others whispered cruel things, her quiet presence when he'd felt utterly alone. Every memory now felt laced with a bittersweet undertone he couldn't ignore.

But it wasn't just guilt or regret that churned within him. There was something else, something far more complicated. As he stood there, frozen in place, he couldn't stop his mind from drifting to Naya herself—her sharp wit, her easy smile, the way she always seemed to know exactly what he needed before he did.

Had he been blind to something more within himself all this time? Or was it the weight of this revelation—the sudden understanding of how much he meant to her—that made him feel like the ground beneath him was shifting?

Scorpius leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes as the noise of the castle faded around him. For the first time, he wasn't sure how to move forward. All he knew was that everything between him and Naya had changed in the span of a single moment. Whether he wanted it to or not, he would have to face this new reality—one where he could no longer claim ignorance of the truth.