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Blue Chalcedony

Author's Note: VERY IMPORTANT! One of the main reasons why updates are so slow for this story is because of the need to name the chapters after gems and such. I'm a horrifically lazy person and it takes an hour just to find two stones that fit chapters. I have decided to drop the stone names for the chapters, opting instead for just the chapter number. Hopefully, this shall speed up updates! Enjoy the short chapter without too much murderous intent! 

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Chapter Twenty-Three: Blue Chalcedony

Jeez, take a chill pill. –Chill pill? What the heck is that? I prefer chalcedony.

Albus flicks his wand lazily, stopping the expensive candelabra from crashing against the stone walls of their dorm room. Another flick, and the four smashed vases, six sets of curtains ripped from their beds, and a broken pillow or two are fixed with ease.

“We need to get you into kickboxing or something. Your temper is more legendary than my mum’s.” He comments. Scorpius throws him a dirty look, but Albus sees beneath. He sees the real emotions that are swirling like a massive waterfall inside his friend. Pain, for hurting Savannah and for watching another chase after her. Anger, from her reaction to his attempt at showing his care for her. Regret, for the things he had said to her and for how he had acted. But most of all, there was the forbidden emotion. The one that their parents, and especially his own father, had warned their kids about many times.

And Scorpius was head over heels deep in it. Wincing as he recalls the horrifying talk with his dad, along with James and Scorp, at the beginning of term, he shrugs it off.

“An irresponsible hothead! That’s what she is. Untrusting, unruly, hard-headed, arrogant, impulsive chit!” Scorpius growls as he sits on his bed, his hands as fists in his lap.

“You’ve always been the one to control your emotions. I told you that it would bite you in the arse later.” Albus says sympathetically as he hands him the goblet he had held in his other hand. He figured that Scorpius would need something to cool his temper and his tongue.

“Chilled Oak-matured mead?” Scorpius asks after a refreshing sip. Albus nods and lies down on the covers, staring up at the enchanted star formations that stick to the ceiling above Scorpius’ bed. There was Sirius, Orion, Draco, Andromeda, and Scorpius. He even held the Silver Cross on there, always loving that it was so giant but only appeared over the island nations of New Zealand and Australia.

“I try. All the time. I’m her friend; she has to know that I care for her.” Scorpius says in a small voice.

“You have to remember, Scorp, that she lived practically by herself since she was five. She never got the formal education on crushes and dating. Hell, James was her first kiss on Halloween.” Scorpius stiffens before relaxing.

“Why can’t she be honest with us? We have to draw everything out of her.” Scorpius questions tiredly.

“If you had seen your parents tortured and murdered and your call for help ignored— forcing you to clean it all up yourself and survive on your own for the next six years until going to the only home you have left, only to be rejected from there and forced to leave? Traveling the world for the next five years sounds pretty neat, but that’s because of the prettiness of the places she went. She probably experienced many horrors and saw many aspects of the human personality that we will never see or even fathom for that matter. Scorpius, she doesn’t tell us because she doesn’t want to remember. She told me once, that she came here to find herself. To claim what had always been here.”

“A home” Scorpius finishes for him, his tawny eyes lighting with a bit of yellow; a sign that he was sad.

“A new beginning.” Lionel adds, pushing off from the doorway where he had been listening. He sat on the other side of Scorpius, patting his shoulder.

“I never knew that is what happened to her parents. I would have expected her to be more messed up.” Lionel murmurs. The door opens again and the three look up to see Morgan sauntering through, looking smug.

“What happened to you?” Lionel asks as they all notice the blood dripping from his lip. Morgan sweeps his gaze over them before touching his lip.

“I had a disagreement with someone, Lionel. I am fine.” He smiles courteously and heads over to his bed, situated by Jeffrey Hornbeam’s bed, the other guy that shared their dorm. He was out on a date with Hestia Withers at the moment.

“Don’t” Albus breathes as Scorp stiffens, his muscles tensing as he prepared to leap to his feet and question him.

“So, I heard you had lunch with Savannah.” Albus pipes up casually, standing up and peeling off his shirt, preparing for bed.

“Word certainly spreads fast around here. I had hoped to keep that a bit private.” Morgan replies passively, running his finger along his lip and healing it effortlessly with an emerald shine.

“How did you do that?” Lionel exclaims. Morgan finishes buttoning his nightshirt before looking at them, his eyes flashing with pride.

“Wild magic”

“Wild magic? That’s a myth.” Scorpius snaps. Morgan shrugs.

“Many things are set in stone, Malfoy. Some things aren’t.” He shrugs and lies down his bed, hands folded behind his head, smiling at his ceiling.

“Savannah seemed pretty upset after you talked. Care to enlighten us?” Lionel broke in, noticing how Scorpius was flushing angrily. Morgan shifts his gaze, powerful and warning, to the boy before flitting them away again.

“In due time. For now, I shall cherish the gift she has given me.” Scorpius stands up, his hand on his wand.

“And what was that?” Scorpius spat. Morgan propped himself up on his elbows, staring uncaringly at the furious Scorpius.

“What’s it to you?”

“She’s my friend and it’s obvious she doesn’t want you around her.”

“How odd. I don’t recall her ever saying a thing like that during our…rendezvous. Then again, there wasn’t much talking.”

“That’s a lie.” Scorpius retorts instantly. Morgan shrugs.

“Is it?” He flicks his hand, closing his curtains. Scorpius grinds his teeth before flinging his wand to his table and swinging his own curtains shut violently, lying on top of his covers and focusing on calming his breathing, shifting through the mass of anger settled in his chest and stomach to see clearly.

He is lying. He has to be lying. She would never willingly touch him. No, Savannah would normally never do something like that. But, after what had transpired between herself and Scorpius, she might be tempted to do the one thing most likely to piss him off. 

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