"And here I thought you wouldn't want your ridiculousness broadcast," Scorpius grumbles, taking a tentative step back. His heart is stupidly pounding, and really, he does't have the best track record of having or keeping friends because of shit like this. One minute he can chat about the weather, and the next, he's wound up thinking about kissing them. It never ends well. Barely ended well with Al.

The heel of Scorpius's trainers are damp from the pond's bank. "Potter," he snaps. "Stop it." The I'm not touching you shit is getting old.