Re: Scor and Al
Scorpius shrugged, "A friend died. It could have been me, or James, or Dylan. Doesn't make it easier." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. He hated funerals.
"What are you doing?" He looked down at the headstone that Al was next to. He couldn't really blame him for walking away from the discomfort of the situation.
"I should tell you that I have decided to take a wing at the manor and see how it goes. I am also volunteering at the werewolf clinic making potions. It is more to do to fill up the hours." He kept his eyes on the stone. "It keeps me from thinking too much or doing stupid things."