[LOG] Flashback: Ginny and Albus
Oct. 9th, 2007 01:17 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ass_teaWhere: The Potter household: Alby's room
When: Shortly after the previous log, the same night (mid-summer 2021)
Alby must've fallen asleep, because suddenly there was knocking at his door again, and all traces of light were gone from his room; his mother was back, calling, "Albus, are you all right?"
"F-fine!" he called out, scrambling to sit up and turn on a lamp, then blinking owlishly in the glare of the light as his mother continued.
"Albus... can I come in a moment?"
Alby groaned inwardly - no, that was the last thing he wanted! He didn't want to talk to anybody right now, but he knew in the pit of his stomach that if he said no, his mother would keep worrying, and keep looking at him and dropping hints until he caved and told her what was wrong. There were some disadvantages, he thought wanly, to having such a strong-willed mother. Not that he would've changed her for the world, really, but there were still times he wished she wouldn't worry so much. Or notice so much, but he supposed that growing up with six brothers would do wonders for anyone's observational skills. Just having James and Lily around kept Alby on his toes more often than not.
The thought of James made his stomach sink, but his mother was still outside the door, waiting. Alby sighed quietly and assented; the door opened slowly and his mother slipped inside, her hair glowing softly in the lamplight as she came over to the bed, waiting for Alby to nod before she sat down beside him.
"James said you were acting a little... 'weird' earlier," she began slowly, eyes trained on Alby, as he felt himself go pale. Had James told everyone what he'd asked about? Was that why she was so worried? Alby opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a moment. What could he say? Should he apologize for being a... a pansy? Should he yell at her and tell her to get out of his room? Should -
"He didn't tell us anything, exactly," his mother went on, as if she sensed Alby's fear, and watched as her son visibly relaxed by a hair's breadth, but no more. She smiled down at him, softly. "I was hoping you might feel like telling me."
So that was it. She wanted him to tell her. Alby squeezed his eyes shut a moment - he didn't know if he could go through it again - once with James had been bad enough. He didn't know what would happen if he tried asking his mother what she thought about boys dating boys, because she would most certainly know that he wasn't asking in a metaphorical, roundabout way. She would know he was talking about himself. And Alby, much as he loved his mum, wasn't sure what she'd do if he told her that her second son fancied his best mate. Another boy. And he wasn't sure he was ready to find out.
He opened his eyes, staring at his knees, pale and a bit freckled, sticking out the bottoms of his frayed shorts. "I... um, I don't know," he finally said in a hoarse voice, trying to be as honest as possible but still wishing she hadn't asked at all. "I don't - um, I don't think you can help."
Well, that was one way of putting it. Alby was pretty sure there wasn't a cure for turning gay. Or if there was, he was pretty sure it was rather awful.
"Ah," was all his mother said for a moment; he could feel her watching him, bright brown eyes examining him, though not scrutinizing. After a moment, she shifted a little closer and put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Do you... would you rather talk to your father?" she asked, sensing (in perhaps a way that only a mother could) that this might have something to do with being a teenage boy and that talking to his mother might not be the best remedy for Alby.
Alby shook his head frantically. No! He definitely didn't want to talk to his father - Dad was understanding, but would he understand that Alby thought he had a crush on Draco Malfoy's son? Oh God, no, that would be awful.
"Okay - okay, then I won't ask him to come up," she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze and standing, taking a few steps towards the door. "But he's worried about you, and so am I. If James said something that bothers you, you should tell him. And if there's something else bothering you," she turned around, "then you know you can talk to one of us about anything."
Alby nodded, swallowing thickly, his mind still racing. He wanted help - wanted it desperately, but how was he supposed to ask for it without giving everything away?
"I'll bring up some -"
"Mum."
Ginny stopped speaking, gaze turning back to Alby as she waited for him to go on. He swallowed again. "Um, Mum, can I ask you a question?"
She nodded, turning away from the door, but keeping her distance, as though she didn't want to frighten him away. "Of course, Albus. Anything."
"Um. Um, what s-should I - I, um, I think... I like one of my friends - one of my good friends," Alby said in a rush, his eyes falling back to his lap, feeling a bit relieved and a bit guilty all at once. Mum didn't have to know that the friend he was talking about was a boy - she'd guess it was a girl, and Alby certainly wasn't of a mind to correct her.
He glanced up, tentatively, to see her nodding, her face serious, as though his problem was as important to her as it was to him. That was one of the things Alby liked about Mum and Dad - they never treated their children's problems as inconsequential. Everything was as important to them as it was to James, Albus, and Lily.
He felt the need to go on, to fill up the silence, though he still wasn't sure what to say, how far to go before he had to stop, before she'd figure it out. "And - and I don't want to mess... to mess it up," he finished miserably, hanging his head a bit, fingers digging into the bedclothes. Obviously he didn't want to mess it up - who would? But he meant more than that - he didn't want to mess up a friendship, didn't want to throw away four years of being best mates with Scorp just because he got hot and bothered when he had dreams about the other boy pulling him into some secluded alcove in the corridor and snogging him senseless -
Okay, bad place to go right now. Alby shifted uncomfortably on the bed, wishing his mother really could make it better. He waited, silent, for her reply.
"You know, your father and I were friends for a long time, first," Mum said, finally coming back over to the bed and sitting beside him once more. "It was hard for me sometimes, because I had such a crush on him, and he didn't really... seem interested for a long time."
Alby blinked up at his mother - he'd kind of heard about that, a little, when his uncles would tease Mum about how long she'd carried a torch, and things like that. But to hear it from her was rather different, somehow. It made it more real, and not just another story his uncles tried to tell to make her blush or throw things at them before everyone laughed and helped themselves to another round of Christmas supper.
"But... um... then how did you know when it wasn't going to make a mess of things anymore?" he finally asked, spurred on by real curiosity and a bit of hope, because obviously things had worked out between Mum and Dad, and even if it was different from his situation, maybe she really could help.
She sighed a bit, turning a wan smile to her son. "I didn't," she said simply. "We didn't know - and for a while it was a bit of a mess. But sometimes messes work out for the best, in the end. You won't know until you try, even if it is hard to say something when it's safer to keep quiet."
"It's... hard to keep quiet," Alby said, voice barely louder than a whisper, suddenly feeling his eyes begin to sting. It was hard in general - the last few weeks of the schoolyear had been horribly awkward, and he didn't know if he could take another year - another three years - of it. He missed Scorp so badly - it felt like he'd been away from school longer than he had, because every time things had started to go all right again, Alby would remember the feel of Scorp's mouth against his own, and find himself staring at those lips across a table, or Scorp's pale nose, or his cheeks, and then Scorp would catch him looking and Alby would hide behind a book and it would be a while before either could speak again.
He'd resolved to get over it, to forget what he felt and ignore it, but at the same time, he didn't want to get over it, because he was starting to really, really like the idea of Scorp touching him and kissing him and...
And the awkward silences were going to ruin their friendship just as surely as Albus telling Scorpius that he fancied him might.
But it was still hard. Mum was right - it was much, much safer to suffer in silence. At least then Scorp might still talk to him and not treat him like a diseased animal.
"I know it is," his mother said, breaking into his thoughts at last as she leaned a little closer and wrapped an arm around him, rubbing his forearm slowly, soothingly. Alby nearly jumped, but after a moment he relaxed into her half-embrace, closing his eyes and breathing in the way she always smelled like the outdoors and the kitchen all at once.
"But you have to make a choice, eventually. No one can make it for you, Albus. If you tell her, there's a chance it might ruin your friendship for a while. But if it's a strong friendship, it will recover. And," she continued, squeezing his arm now, lightly, "you don't know that she'll say no, do you?"
Her. She. So his mother really had jumped to the conclusion he'd assumed she would all along, but somehow it still made the pit of his stomach feel cold, even in her warm embrace. But Alby couldn't - wouldn't - correct her, so he would just have to hope that the advice she gave wasn't exclusive to straight boys asking girls out.
"I... I hope not," Alby finally said, meaning many things at once, but it was the most he could do at the moment, he supposed. Hope that something would go his way, whatever that something might be.
"Take your time," his mother said, smiling, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go and standing once more. "Think it through. I know you'll come to the right decision, whatever it is. And don't be afraid to ask for help."
Alby nodded slowly as she crossed the floor to his door once again. "I'll bring you up some leftovers, all right?" she asked, this time opening the door and letting the warm light from the hall spill into his room, meeting the light cast from his lamp halfway across the floor.
"Okay," Alby croaked, still thinking, still worrying, but considering everything she'd told him. "Thanks - thanks, Mum."
When: Shortly after the previous log, the same night (mid-summer 2021)
Alby must've fallen asleep, because suddenly there was knocking at his door again, and all traces of light were gone from his room; his mother was back, calling, "Albus, are you all right?"
"F-fine!" he called out, scrambling to sit up and turn on a lamp, then blinking owlishly in the glare of the light as his mother continued.
"Albus... can I come in a moment?"
Alby groaned inwardly - no, that was the last thing he wanted! He didn't want to talk to anybody right now, but he knew in the pit of his stomach that if he said no, his mother would keep worrying, and keep looking at him and dropping hints until he caved and told her what was wrong. There were some disadvantages, he thought wanly, to having such a strong-willed mother. Not that he would've changed her for the world, really, but there were still times he wished she wouldn't worry so much. Or notice so much, but he supposed that growing up with six brothers would do wonders for anyone's observational skills. Just having James and Lily around kept Alby on his toes more often than not.
The thought of James made his stomach sink, but his mother was still outside the door, waiting. Alby sighed quietly and assented; the door opened slowly and his mother slipped inside, her hair glowing softly in the lamplight as she came over to the bed, waiting for Alby to nod before she sat down beside him.
"James said you were acting a little... 'weird' earlier," she began slowly, eyes trained on Alby, as he felt himself go pale. Had James told everyone what he'd asked about? Was that why she was so worried? Alby opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a moment. What could he say? Should he apologize for being a... a pansy? Should he yell at her and tell her to get out of his room? Should -
"He didn't tell us anything, exactly," his mother went on, as if she sensed Alby's fear, and watched as her son visibly relaxed by a hair's breadth, but no more. She smiled down at him, softly. "I was hoping you might feel like telling me."
So that was it. She wanted him to tell her. Alby squeezed his eyes shut a moment - he didn't know if he could go through it again - once with James had been bad enough. He didn't know what would happen if he tried asking his mother what she thought about boys dating boys, because she would most certainly know that he wasn't asking in a metaphorical, roundabout way. She would know he was talking about himself. And Alby, much as he loved his mum, wasn't sure what she'd do if he told her that her second son fancied his best mate. Another boy. And he wasn't sure he was ready to find out.
He opened his eyes, staring at his knees, pale and a bit freckled, sticking out the bottoms of his frayed shorts. "I... um, I don't know," he finally said in a hoarse voice, trying to be as honest as possible but still wishing she hadn't asked at all. "I don't - um, I don't think you can help."
Well, that was one way of putting it. Alby was pretty sure there wasn't a cure for turning gay. Or if there was, he was pretty sure it was rather awful.
"Ah," was all his mother said for a moment; he could feel her watching him, bright brown eyes examining him, though not scrutinizing. After a moment, she shifted a little closer and put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Do you... would you rather talk to your father?" she asked, sensing (in perhaps a way that only a mother could) that this might have something to do with being a teenage boy and that talking to his mother might not be the best remedy for Alby.
Alby shook his head frantically. No! He definitely didn't want to talk to his father - Dad was understanding, but would he understand that Alby thought he had a crush on Draco Malfoy's son? Oh God, no, that would be awful.
"Okay - okay, then I won't ask him to come up," she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze and standing, taking a few steps towards the door. "But he's worried about you, and so am I. If James said something that bothers you, you should tell him. And if there's something else bothering you," she turned around, "then you know you can talk to one of us about anything."
Alby nodded, swallowing thickly, his mind still racing. He wanted help - wanted it desperately, but how was he supposed to ask for it without giving everything away?
"I'll bring up some -"
"Mum."
Ginny stopped speaking, gaze turning back to Alby as she waited for him to go on. He swallowed again. "Um, Mum, can I ask you a question?"
She nodded, turning away from the door, but keeping her distance, as though she didn't want to frighten him away. "Of course, Albus. Anything."
"Um. Um, what s-should I - I, um, I think... I like one of my friends - one of my good friends," Alby said in a rush, his eyes falling back to his lap, feeling a bit relieved and a bit guilty all at once. Mum didn't have to know that the friend he was talking about was a boy - she'd guess it was a girl, and Alby certainly wasn't of a mind to correct her.
He glanced up, tentatively, to see her nodding, her face serious, as though his problem was as important to her as it was to him. That was one of the things Alby liked about Mum and Dad - they never treated their children's problems as inconsequential. Everything was as important to them as it was to James, Albus, and Lily.
He felt the need to go on, to fill up the silence, though he still wasn't sure what to say, how far to go before he had to stop, before she'd figure it out. "And - and I don't want to mess... to mess it up," he finished miserably, hanging his head a bit, fingers digging into the bedclothes. Obviously he didn't want to mess it up - who would? But he meant more than that - he didn't want to mess up a friendship, didn't want to throw away four years of being best mates with Scorp just because he got hot and bothered when he had dreams about the other boy pulling him into some secluded alcove in the corridor and snogging him senseless -
Okay, bad place to go right now. Alby shifted uncomfortably on the bed, wishing his mother really could make it better. He waited, silent, for her reply.
"You know, your father and I were friends for a long time, first," Mum said, finally coming back over to the bed and sitting beside him once more. "It was hard for me sometimes, because I had such a crush on him, and he didn't really... seem interested for a long time."
Alby blinked up at his mother - he'd kind of heard about that, a little, when his uncles would tease Mum about how long she'd carried a torch, and things like that. But to hear it from her was rather different, somehow. It made it more real, and not just another story his uncles tried to tell to make her blush or throw things at them before everyone laughed and helped themselves to another round of Christmas supper.
"But... um... then how did you know when it wasn't going to make a mess of things anymore?" he finally asked, spurred on by real curiosity and a bit of hope, because obviously things had worked out between Mum and Dad, and even if it was different from his situation, maybe she really could help.
She sighed a bit, turning a wan smile to her son. "I didn't," she said simply. "We didn't know - and for a while it was a bit of a mess. But sometimes messes work out for the best, in the end. You won't know until you try, even if it is hard to say something when it's safer to keep quiet."
"It's... hard to keep quiet," Alby said, voice barely louder than a whisper, suddenly feeling his eyes begin to sting. It was hard in general - the last few weeks of the schoolyear had been horribly awkward, and he didn't know if he could take another year - another three years - of it. He missed Scorp so badly - it felt like he'd been away from school longer than he had, because every time things had started to go all right again, Alby would remember the feel of Scorp's mouth against his own, and find himself staring at those lips across a table, or Scorp's pale nose, or his cheeks, and then Scorp would catch him looking and Alby would hide behind a book and it would be a while before either could speak again.
He'd resolved to get over it, to forget what he felt and ignore it, but at the same time, he didn't want to get over it, because he was starting to really, really like the idea of Scorp touching him and kissing him and...
And the awkward silences were going to ruin their friendship just as surely as Albus telling Scorpius that he fancied him might.
But it was still hard. Mum was right - it was much, much safer to suffer in silence. At least then Scorp might still talk to him and not treat him like a diseased animal.
"I know it is," his mother said, breaking into his thoughts at last as she leaned a little closer and wrapped an arm around him, rubbing his forearm slowly, soothingly. Alby nearly jumped, but after a moment he relaxed into her half-embrace, closing his eyes and breathing in the way she always smelled like the outdoors and the kitchen all at once.
"But you have to make a choice, eventually. No one can make it for you, Albus. If you tell her, there's a chance it might ruin your friendship for a while. But if it's a strong friendship, it will recover. And," she continued, squeezing his arm now, lightly, "you don't know that she'll say no, do you?"
Her. She. So his mother really had jumped to the conclusion he'd assumed she would all along, but somehow it still made the pit of his stomach feel cold, even in her warm embrace. But Alby couldn't - wouldn't - correct her, so he would just have to hope that the advice she gave wasn't exclusive to straight boys asking girls out.
"I... I hope not," Alby finally said, meaning many things at once, but it was the most he could do at the moment, he supposed. Hope that something would go his way, whatever that something might be.
"Take your time," his mother said, smiling, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go and standing once more. "Think it through. I know you'll come to the right decision, whatever it is. And don't be afraid to ask for help."
Alby nodded slowly as she crossed the floor to his door once again. "I'll bring you up some leftovers, all right?" she asked, this time opening the door and letting the warm light from the hall spill into his room, meeting the light cast from his lamp halfway across the floor.
"Okay," Alby croaked, still thinking, still worrying, but considering everything she'd told him. "Thanks - thanks, Mum."
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Date: 2007-10-09 08:31 pm (UTC)Oh yeah, and if you wanted to start fifth year either tonight or tomorrow, that's cool with me! :3 I'll at trivia tonight, so I may not be around to post until late. ^^;;
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Date: 2007-10-09 09:08 pm (UTC)Okay~ I'll go ahead and post something up when I get the chance, probably later tonight. Should we just have them meeting at the train station and going to a cafe from there?
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Date: 2007-10-09 09:26 pm (UTC)Not to mention Harry having a heart attack in the living room when he hears all the thumping. XD
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Date: 2007-10-09 11:08 pm (UTC)Ahahaha. And Ginny will just, like, hold his hand and tell him it's okay. XD
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Date: 2007-10-10 12:55 am (UTC)I can so totally see Harry sitting in an armchair with his eyes squeezed shut and Ginny telling him it's okay while the ceiling is happily thump-thumping away. XD
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Date: 2007-10-10 01:39 am (UTC)Hahaha. Oh, poor Harry. He saved the world, and this is what he gets as a reward. XD
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Date: 2007-10-10 02:03 am (UTC)D: Dude, Harry totally deserves to have his son run off with a Malfoy. XD Mwa ha ha ha.
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Date: 2007-10-10 02:07 am (UTC)Ahaha. The irony of it~