Chapter Text
It was painful to realize just how many generations of Potters had loved a member of the Black family tree. Especially for Minerva McGonagall, who had to witness three whole generations of it. Except, and this seemed like a foreign thought, the pair of Slytherin fourth-years. So, McGonagall bet fourty galleons on young Scorpius and Albus, desperately hoping they could live out the legacy that had been refused for their ancestors.
Scorpius and Albus were two of Hogwarts’ brightest kids, and arguably some of the richest. Being the sons of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, respectively, they had the largest reputation in the whole school. That was why it was such big news when Albus Severus Potter became a Slytherin. Scorpius, of course, was ecstatic—the boy he had made friends with on the train was in his house. Albus, however, was not. He felt he let the whole family down. Little did he know, he set up the perfect timeline for him to end these painful years of unspoken pining.
Now in their fourth year, Albus and Scorpius have grown… closer, to say the least. Close enough that Albus’s cousin Rose has noticed the almost intimate relationship between the two Slytherins. Rose Weasley was a Gryffindor by tradition, yet she stayed close with Albus despite her animosity towards other Slytherins. This is precisely why she noticed something off when Albus would visit the Burrow and talk about Scorpius almost non-stop.
After a rather lengthy amount of time spent in the past, Scorpius says he has feelings for Rose. Albus, who had just realized his own feelings for the blonde, was devastated. Albus didn’t let it show to Scorpius, of course, due to the conversation that would entail. However, Albus’s attempts to hide his disappointment did not go unnoticed by the watchful headmistress, who was wondering what could possibly have her top student missing assignments.
Minerva did everything she could to help Albus, going as far as watching the Marauder’s Map in her free time. Harry had entrusted the map to her previously, and the only use she could fathom was helping his son to ask out the boy he loved. Minerva went out of her way some days to ask Albus about Scorpius, who would always tell her the same boring news about “Not being able to talk to him about it…” or some bullshit. That sounded awfully familiar to McGonagall.
“I can’t possibly tell Malfoy of all people that I love him! I’m sorry, professor, but it really isn’t possible.” Minerva watched as Harry paced her office, her arms calmly crossed. Harry wasn’t in trouble, but seeing as the Transfiguration professor had been watching his emerald eyes seek Draco in the middle of class, she had to do something. Despite her slight intervention, she couldn’t possibly do enough to convince the Boy Who Lived to confess to his rival. Much to her dismay, although she’d never say so.
Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy were sworn rivals. Everyone knew this fact—it wasn’t like they only fought in secret. As a matter of fact, after Harry turned down Draco’s offer to be friends in first year, they both set off to make the other miserable. It was a miracle Harry managed to be sorted into Gryffindor, considering his ambition to irritate the blonde. Not to mention the fact that Harry was convinced he and his family still supported Voldemort, the dark wizard who killed poor Harry’s parents.
Harry didn’t know when the line blurred between hatred and desire. Maybe it was in third year, when Draco’s attempts to infuriate the Chosen One came off as flirtatious. Or maybe it was in sixth year, when Harry began stalking Draco to learn about his ‘Death Eater’ motives. Regardless of when it happened, Harry knew that he was now hopelessly in love with someone who he could never be with. Sure, the oblivious bisexual boy didn’t mind Ginny, necessarily, but he was positive he would always love Draco somewhere deep in his heart.
Similarly, James knew that he was hopelessly in love with Regulus. However, James had an entirely different reason behind not telling Regulus about his love; Sirius. Regulus was Sirius’s little brother, and Sirius was James’s best friend. This was a problem, considering James loved both (one platonically and one romantically.) Sirius would have a fit if he learned about James’s little crush. Regulus shared this attraction, though he would never admit it out loud. So James pretended to like Lily, a pretty ginger in his grade.
Regulus, throughout his years at Hogwarts, was jealous of Lily. Lily was a beautiful girl, someone who had a much better chance of ending up with James than the young Black ever would. Not only was Regulus sentenced to quiet admiration, his older brother left their abusive household and lived with James. Regulus desperately wanted to join, but he knew that their family would never let both boys leave. So Regulus stayed, protected Sirius. That also left the poor boy all alone.
James helped Regulus deal with his pain, unknowingly hurting him more. The issue wasn’t James helping—in fact, Regulus would be eternally grateful for James’s help with everything. There was a minor difficulty in confiding with James, an egoistical Gryffindor; Regulus had been forced by his “family” to get the Dark Mark. When James learned this information, as any logical light-family Gryffindor, he felt betrayed. James then stopped assisting Regulus in his depression, going to Lily and making a rash decision to date her. Regulus wanted to help James in any way he could, even if that meant dying himself. So he went on a “quest,” finding and stealing the Horcrux and being drowned by the inferi.
McGonagall was terribly sad for the young Black, especially after noticing James’s change in personality. She felt bad for the Potter boy, and she wished she had noticed James’s real lack of interest in Lily. Of course, they made an excellent child, but even after marrying the ginger, he never felt much other than platonic affection. He dealt with it, knowing it was what Regulus would have wanted. He swore he could see the Black in Lily’s emerald eyes sometimes.
Fleamont wasn’t much better after marrying Euphemia, but he didn’t exactly have a choice. The girl he chose to pretend to love was purely for looks. He had started a facade that would last for decades in his wake. The boy knew other generations had a chance to properly love who they wanted, but it wasn’t available for him. The most suitable bachelor in their year, Alphard Black, had plenty of choices. However, he fell for the pure Potter, who he knew he couldn’t be with because of their unfortunate family differences and the time they were inconveniently placed in.
Anyone from a mile away could see Fleamont’s attraction, bordering on infatuation. Especially McGonagall, who the Potter leaned on for advice. Both of them knew the two couldn’t ever be properly together, but she tried to help in every way she could. Recalling all of these memories made her sad, considering all of these following couples from the same family line were destined for destruction. As much as she liked to, she couldn’t dwell on the past. If she developed as much of a lust for drama that the previous headmaster had, she would never get her paperwork done.
McGonagall sighed and picked up her quill again, realizing she’d been lost in thought for far too long. Suddenly, a soft, hesitant knock on the door cut through her haze. She stood up and opened the door, revealing a very hesitant looking Albus fidgeting in the doorframe. He looked… scared, looking up at her with those big emerald eyes that so easily reminded her of Harry and Lily. Offering a soft smile and stepping aside, he cautiously stepped in.
“Headmistress, I was, er, wondering if you could help me with something?”