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Alleyway Altercations	By : WillGirl Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Albus Severus/Scorpius Views: 2262 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter novels (or movies), nor the characters contained therin. All rights remain with JKR. No monetary reconpense is gained from the writing of this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes.

Chapter List
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Rose Weasley bent double and tilted her head sideways. She still had to squint a little to read the faded title on the spine of the very old leather book in front of her. She worried at her lip, weighing her pocket money up in her mind. She had enough for the book—Carey’s Essays of Essential Magical Mythology—but only barely. Buying it now might be reckless, but it was the only copy here. Maybe she could ask about putting it on reserve, and then come back to pay for it in a week or two...

Rose straightened up with a sigh, and rubbed her forehead absently. She was a tall girl, and bending her head that low to the floor left her somewhat woozy when the blood rushed back. Rose blinked a few times, her bright blue eyes refocusing slowly. The hazy, dust-mote-filled light that streamed through the tall windows of Flourish and Blotts was a warm golden color that gleamed against the embossed spines of the nicer books, and shimmered on the glossy covers of the cheaper, newer print runs.

An elderly witch wearing too much make-up vamped in the photograph of the nauseatingly-green books piled high on the table in front of Rose. She wondered what such a lurid, modern publication was doing all the way back here, but then decided that probably the employees were just tired of looking at the awful thing and had picked the first out-of-the-way table to stack it. Rose made a face at the simpering photograph, and ambled back towards the front of the store, passing idly through the Biography section on her way. She ignored, as always, the names and photographs of her parents, aunts, uncles, and adopted extended family.

Rose had not found it strange, growing up, to have her parents featured in books and magazines, because they had been treated like that her whole life. It wasn’t until she went to Hogwarts that she realized how weird it was being the child of war heroes, and now it made her mildly uncomfortable every time she saw evidence of their heroic celebrity. Rather than get upset or try to avoid the un-avoidable fact that her parents, along with nearly every other adult she knew, had once helped to save the world, Rose usually just tried to pay it all as little attention as was possible.

Then she did a sharp double-take, blinking hard at the image she had caught out of the corner of her eye. She had to actually shake her head before she could convince herself that what she was seeing was real, and not another book-cover photo of her Uncle Harry. It was the boy standing next to him that had made Rose think twice, because as far as she knew, there were no war-era photographs of Uncle Harry that also featured her friend Scorpius Malfoy’s father.

Rose rubbed her eyes, then sneezed, because the old books in the back of Flourish and Blotts really were dusty. She sneezed again, and wiped her eyes clear, but the image in front of her didn’t change. Rose frowned. No wonder she had assumed that she was just seeing another book cover: Albus and Scorpius were both bruised and battered, like Rose’s parents looked in every single photo taken during the war.

Rose shoved her way through a crowd of third years gathered in front of the books on Hogwarts’ elective courses. “What on earth happened to you two?” she demanded.

Albus dropped the book he was holding, and Scorpius actually jumped into the air. They turned towards Rose with guilty expressions on their bruised faces. “Nothing,” the boys yelped reflexively.

Rose raised a heavy eyebrow. She planted her hands on her hips. She cleared her throat.

They both crumpled so fast she might as well have been her grandmother. Rose didn’t feel guilty about pressuring them into fessing up; what business did they have, keeping secrets from their best friend? She wasn’t going to put up with nonsense like that, and they should both of them know better than to think she would.

“It was James,” Albus explained. A grimace of disgust accompanied his words, until he winced and rubbed his cheek. Clearly the fading purple-and-yellow bruise on the side of his jaw wasn’t as old as it looked; bruise balms could cut the pain and lift the colors, but even with healing-time sped up, marks that size would ache.

“You got in a fight with James?” Rose said. She reached out to touch the bruise. “Another one? Albus!”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Albus protested, drawing back. “James started it. And we haven’t had a fight in forever, so don’t say it like it happens all the time...”

“It does happen all the time,” Rose said flatly. She frowned. “But you don’t usually drag poor Scorpius into your brawls...”

“‘Poor’ Scorpius is perfectly fine, thank you,” Scorpius sniffed haughtily. Then he winced and pressed a hand to his face. The way he cringed, and the deep purple circles under his grey eyes, told Rose that his nose had been recently broken.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Rose gently pulled Scorpius’s hand away so that she could see his face. Along with the bruises under his eyes, there were fading red marks around his pale neck, and his bottom lip was cut by a heavy, fresh scab.

“I just said...”

“Yes,” Rose interrupted, “but you were standing on your dignity, not being truthful.” Rose gently smoothed a stray curl of white-blond hair back behind Scorpius’s ear.

Scorpius scowled, but Albus had to hide a smirk. “I was not standing on my dignity,” Scorpius argued. “I am perfectly fine. Or I will be, at least,” he amended grudgingly when Rose cleared her throat again. “One of the women who works at your uncle’s shop helped us clean up.”

“Verity,” Albus supplied.

Rose nodded. “Well, you still look pretty bad,” she said truthfully.

“Thanks,” Scorpius drawled. “It’s lovely to see you, too.”

Rose flushed. “I mean,” she said, “that you look like you’ve been in a fight.”

“Verity said the bruises and stuff would fade in a few hours,” Albus offered. He shrugged helplessly. “She’s been working for Uncle George for ever,” he added, “if she’s not an expert in bruises by now...”

Rose nodded. “Well,” she said drily, “you’d just better hope that they do fade, and really well too, before Scor has to go home.”

Both boys paled, and Albus swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely, “I really do.” Scorpius nodded fervent agreement.

“His mother will kill you if she finds out you let him get hurt,” Rose continued viciously. She grinned.

“I know,” Albus whined, “and you don’t have to sound so happy about it.”

Rose snickered.

“You’re a sadist,” grumbled Albus.

“Ravenclaws,” said Scorpius, shrugging. “Your pain is their research.”

Rose stuck her tongue out at him. “Careful,” she said, “or my next research could be your pain.”

“No thank you,” Scorpius replied, with a delicate shudder. “I’ve had enough revision on that subject already today, thank you.”

“Dare I ask what started this fight?” Rose said tiredly.

Albus avoided her eye; so, oddly enough, did Scorpius. “The usual,” Albus muttered. “You know snakes and lions...”

“Uh-huh,” Rose agreed, “and I also know when I’m being given the brush-off.”

“Albus’s brother had an objection he wanted to raise about Albus’s current relationship with me,” Scorpius explained pedantically, “and the, ah...the level and variety of intimacy he thought was appropriate, and what wasn’t.”

Rose nodded slowly as Albus’s cheeks turned pink. “Ah,” she said, her voice a bit strangled. “So...I guess that means you told them, then—or did James just, you know...catch you?” She grimaced.

“No,” Albus said, “no he didn’t catch us...well he sort of did, snogging; but not, you know...I mean, he already knew, it’s not like he found out by catching us...”

“That was Albus’s father who did that, actually,” Scorpius added archly.

Albus went red. “Shut-up about that,” he ordered breathlessly.

“Sorry.” Scorpius grinned.

“I thought you were all traumatized by that, or something, anyway,” Albus grumbled.

“I was,” said Scorpius, “but it’s more fun making you squirm than it is remembering how frightening your father was when he thought I had you Imperiused.”

Rose gasped. “He what?” she cried.

Scorpius shrugged, uncomfortable. “Well...you know my family history...”

“That doesn’t give Uncle Harry the right to suspect you of such—such horrible things!” she insisted. “He didn’t actually accuse you of—of that, did he?”

Scorpius shrugged again, looking down at the floor. “Well...yes,” he said. “In Mr. Potter’s defense, it was a rather...startling situation, that he found us in...and given who I am...”

Rose went as red as her hair, but still shook her head angrily. “I don’t care what he saw, that’s an awful thing to accuse someone of,” the girl said firmly. “Uncle Harry had just better have apologized really sincerely,” she added with a very fierce scowl.

“More importantly,” Scorpius said, overriding the girl’s indignation on his behalf, “he gave Albus and I permission to see one another.”

Rose crossed her arms. “Great,” she said, her voice flat. “That’s brilliant. Of course, he thinks Albus has been Cursed into it...”

“I think dad’s over that now, actually,” Albus mumbled.

Scorpius grinned. “I don’t care what your father thinks about me,” he insisted valiantly, only lying a little, “so long as he lets me date you.” He linked his fingers with Albus’s and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

Albus yanked his hand away. “Don’t,” he hissed, “someone will see!”

“So?” Scorpius asked. “Our parents have all been told, now. We don’t have to be discreet anymore, the secret’s out.” He looked amused.

“But the rest of my family,” Albus protested, “they don’t know, and your grandparents—”

“Are you saying,” Scorpius interrupted, “that before we can be seen together in public, you intend to personally tell each and every member of your family that we’re an item? Each and every one? Al,” he said, “do you know how many people you have in your family? That’s insane.”

Albus laughed weakly. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess so...”

“And correct me if I’m wrong,” Scorpius continued, turning to Rose for confirmation, “but is it normally the practice in your family that all schoolyard dalliances must be presented to, and approved by, a representative majority of Weasleys?”

Rose turned pink, and Albus went pale. “No,” the girl said.

Scorpius nodded. “Well then,” he said, and turned back to Albus, who was staring at him with horror. “Oh, sweetheart!” the fair-haired boy cried, “I didn’t mean it like that, you know I didn’t!”

“I—yeah...”

“It’s just that this is only going to seem an ordinary schoolyard dalliance to them,” Scorpius hurried to explain, “because that’s all it is now, technically. We’re in school, and we’re definitely...dallying.” He smirked, and reached out to take Albus’s hand again.

This time, Albus let him. “Yeah,” he said, blushing slightly, “that’s true.”

“You know I love you madly,” Scorpius continued softly. “Who cares what they think?”

Albus’s blush deepened. Before he could reply in kind, a tall red blur shoved past him, barreling toward the door and out of the shop. The bell jangled angrily in protest at being slammed so hard. The boys stared, slack-jawed, at the place where Rose Weasley had disappeared.

“What on earth—?”

“No idea,” Albus replied. “We better go find her.”

The boys raced out of Flourish and Blotts, and stopped at the kerb. They looked around, but there was no sign of Rose in the crowd of shoppers that thronged Diagon Alley. “Do you see her?” Albus asked.

“No,” said Scorpius, “do you know what’s going on?”

“No,” Albus replied, “but she seemed really upset...we should split up. I’ll go this way, we can meet back at Fortescue’s in...”

“Say an hour,” Scorpius said. “That gives us plenty of time to look, and to coax her back if she’s recalcitrant.”

“Good plan,” agreed Albus. He boldly kissed his boyfriend’s pale cheek, not caring if anyone was looking, and then hurried away down the southside of Diagon Alley. He did his best to ignore the colorful and captivating window displays, scanning the crowds instead for any sign of a tall girl with bright, bushy red hair.

Albus had been searching for a good twenty minutes, and had strayed far from the beaten paths of the main streets, when he finally spotted her. Rose was huddled miserably on a stoop, about halfway down a skinny, dim-lit alley. Albus walked toward her very slowly, not wanting to startle Rose into either running off again or, worse, going for wand or fist. Albus had a healthy respect for his cousin’s dueling and brawling skills, and he had had enough fighting for one day.

“Hey,” Albus said quietly. “You okay?” He edged his way carefully onto the stoop next to the red-haired girl, watching balefully to make certain that she wasn’t going to suddenly lash out and throw him into the street. Rose just tugged miserably at her fingers. Albus could see, through the curtain of her bushy hair, that her lip was trembling.

“Fine,” Rose muttered.

Albus nodded. “Right,” he said, “and this time let’s try it again, with a real answer, okay?”

Rose glanced sideways through her hair to give him a withering glare.

“You can scowl at me all you like,” Albus told the girl, “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong, and what I can do to fix it.” He resisted the urge to back away; Rose was as Ravenclaw as Albus was a Slytherin, but she had a Weasley’s instinctive hatred of cowardice, and if Albus looked skittish, Rose would probably smack him just to prove the point.

“You can’t fix it,” Rose said shortly.

“Wanna bet?” Albus replied. He managed a comforting grin. “Between your brains, Scor’s moral flexibility and money, and my general awesomeness, the three of us can fix anything, don’t you remember?”

Rose did not smile, and the dark scowl on her face only deepened.

Albus swallowed hard, and decided to try another tack. “You can at least tell me what’s wrong,” he said gently. “No sense you being miserable alone, when the two of us can be miserable together.”

Rose sighed. “The two of us,” she said bitterly, “great. Perfect.”

“Or...we can go to Fortescue’s and find Scorpius, and all three of us can be miserable over ice cream?” Albus suggested.

Rose sighed again, this one even heavier than the first. “Great,” she repeated.

“Did something happen in the bookshop?” Albus asked. “Was it something I said? Or Scorpius?”

“No, it was nothing that—look, just forget it, okay?” Rose said. She brushed her hair out of her face and forced a smile. It looked painfully fake and brittle, and made Albus wince. “It’s not a big deal. I think it’s just that time of the month, probably, so I’m just crazy-emotional...”

Albus shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “sorry. Not going to work. I have two many cousins, not to mention a big-mouthed sister, and you for a best friend. I am not going to be scared off by mention of the dreaded P-word.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Why can’t you be a normal bloke,” she complained.

“You’re a Ravenclaw,” Albus pointed out. “You don’t know any normal blokes.”

“I know people from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff,” Rose argued.

“And they’re all easily frightened by the mere hint of non-grammatical-periods,” Albus agreed, “but I am not them. And I’m not going away until you tell me what’s wrong, because that is not it. You never get overly-emotional during your monthlies,” he pointed out. “At least not since third year, when you got all annoyed about hormones and had Scor and I help you work up that noxious potion—you remember?”

“I drink it once a month,” Rose said drily, “so I think I remember, yeah.”

Albus shrugged. “Well then,” he said cheerfully, “either tell me the truth, or find a better lie. Remember, though, I’m a Slytherin, and my best friend is a Malfoy.” He grinned. “The truth is probably easier. Just a piece of advice.”

Rose rolled her eyes and let out her breath in an aggrieved huff of air. “Why didn’t I take mum’s advice,” she griped to herself, “and avoid having blokes for my best friends?”

“Because then you wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun in your life,” Albus replied.

“Or gotten in nearly as much trouble,” Rose added shortly.

Albus shrugged, unabashed. “Point well made,” he admitted, “but you’re deliberately trying to distract me with conversational tangents. Won’t work. What’s wrong?”

“Scorpius,” Rose said, then immediately pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, but it was too late to take the word back.

“Scorpius?” Albus repeated. “Why, what’s he done?”

“You, apparently,” Rose replied bitterly. She looked shocked at herself, and this time actually clamped a hand to her mouth. She glared at Albus accusingly. “Did you slip me Veritaserum?” she said accusingly.

“Nope,” Albus replied, despite the fact that his face had currently turned the same color as his cousin’s hair. “That must just be my natural charm.” He cleared his throat. “And for the record, he hasn’t, really. Not yet. Properly. If you were curious.”

Rose pouted sulkily. “I wasn’t,” she muttered. Then, clearly interested despite her best efforts not to be, she asked, “why not?”

“Oh, well.” Albus blushed even harder. “We were, um, we were working on it, but...dad interrupted.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Wow,” she said, “so that’s what Scorp was talking about earlier, then? You were...you were mid-shag? That’s what Uncle Harry walked in on?”

“Yeah,” Albus said. He cleared his throat again, and looked down the alley to avoid Rose’s eye. It was a very boring alley, with nothing more interesting at the end of it than a few lonely barrels and one battered crate. Albus wished Rose had picked somewhere more entertaining to have her breakdown.

“So, um,” he said, still not looking at her, “what is it, are you jealous or something? Because I can think of at least five blokes right off the top of my head who would be more than happy to shag you. Five blokes,” he amended, “and six girls, and most of them aren’t half-bad-looking, so if you’re feeling left out, or something...”

“No thanks,” Rose said flatly.

“Okay,” said Albus, “then what is it you’re upset about, if it’s not the fact that I’m going to beat you to losing my cherry?”

The withering glare was back. Rose clearly didn’t appreciate his efforts at maintaining a lighthearted tone. “How about you go work on that now,” she told him, “all by yourself?” She coupled her words with an explicit finger-motion.

Albus decided to ignore the suggestion. “Come on, Rosie,” he wheedled, “I’m your best friend, I’ve been your best friend since we were in diapers...if you can’t tell me what’s bothering you, who can you tell?”

Rose’s gaze slipped away, settling miserably on the road surface in front of them. She poked a bit of dried mud with her toe. “I’m a little bit in love, I think,” she mumbled.

“Really?” said Albus. “Rose, that’s brilliant! Who with?”

She caught Albus’s eyes and held them. Her freckled face twisted in a sour grimace. “Scorpius,” she said.

Albus stared. Rose looked down at the ground again. “Not so brilliant after all, is it?” she asked bitterly. She started picking at her fingernails, a habit she normally only engaged in during exams.

“You fancy Scorpius?” Albus echoed dumbly.

Rose nodded, still staring miserably at the ground.

Albus gingerly put a hand on her shoulder. “Since when?” he asked, voice as gentle as his grip.

“Since...I don’t know...probably some time third year,” Rose admitted. “I mean, it was just sort of a crush, then...and he kind of annoyed me, so having a crush on him annoyed me even more, but...but then it stopped being annoying...” She shrugged.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Albus asked.

“I was going to!” Rose cried. Her head came up, and Albus yanked his hand away quickly, in case she turned on him. “I had it all planned out, I was finally going to tell him, no matter how frightened it made me. I had the whole thing planned—I wrote out a speech and all that—I was going to ‘get my Gryffindor up,’ as dad would say, and...and tell him.” She swallowed. “Right after O.W.L.s were over. I mean, there wasn’t time to deal with, you know, with boys until then, I had too much studying...”

Albus refused to laugh at his Ravenclaw cousin’s priorities. Now was not the time to tease Rose. It would end badly—for him. “Oh,” he said instead, very quietly. “But then...”

“Yeah,” Rose replied, her voice low. Her anguished gaze caught Albus’s eyes for a moment, then dropped back to the dirty pavement. “Then you two started...being you two.”

“So...so when you, um, when you sort of helped us...”

“That was unintentional, yes,” Rose admitted. “I didn’t actually know what Scorpius was talking about, exactly, until halfway through the conversation, and...and then it was too late. I mean, not that I regret helping you, of course,” she added quickly, “I mean you’re my friends, of course I don’t—”

“Only you do, a little bit,” Albus guessed.

Rose’s shoulders slumped even lower. “Yeah,” she muttered guiltily. “Maybe a little bit.”

“Rose,” Albus said, carefully slinging an arm around her, “I’m the Slytherin cousin, remember? You can be honest with me, even when it makes you look bad. You only have to pretend to be a Paragon of Nobility around the Gryffindors. They’re the ones used to faking that bullshit. Down in the dungeons, we can admit that we’re all just people, and not think less of one another for it.”

Rose managed a weak little smile at that. “Right,” she said. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Albus reassured her, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

They sat in slightly-less-miserable silence for a minute, then Rose hesitantly asked, “so...when did you start to fancy Scorp?”

“About two seconds after I kissed him,” Albus replied, choosing to ignore the despised nickname for the moment.

“Oh,” said Rose. She had gone a bit pink. So had Albus.

“Yeah,” he said, “it was a bit of a surprise.”

A startled laugh burst from Rose’s lips. Albus grinned crookedly. “Bit of a surprise for him, too,” he added.

“I’ll bet,” Rose said drily. “Dare I ask how you two ended up kissing before you fancied one another? General practice has that step coming after.”

Albus shrugged, blushing. “We were fighting over the Quidditch practice schedule, I think,” he said. “Or something like that. I was trying to get it away from him, and it turned into a bit of a wrestling match...”

“You wrestled with Scorpius?” Rose asked, one eyebrow very high. Her tone was the sharp, accusatory one that always reminded Albus that his cousin was a Prefect.

“Well not for real,” Albus demurred quickly. “Just, you know, for fun or whatever...”

“Boys,” Rose muttered, her voice thick with disgust and resigned amusement.

“Anyway,” Albus continued loudly, ignoring her, “I won, and reached for the parchment, only instead I ended up kissing him. Somehow.” His face felt like it was going to catch fire any moment. “And then we sort of stared at each other in horror and confusion, and...then we decided to try it again, to see what was going on.”

Rose stared at him. “Seriously?” she said.

Albus shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Things just sort of...went from there.”

Rose shook her head. “I can’t believe I spent pretty much two years pining after Scorp, and you just come along out of nowhere and steal him with a kiss...”

“I didn’t steal him,” Albus protested. “You hadn’t said anything yet, remember? It’s not like you told me you had some master plan...if you’d told me you liked him, I wouldn’t have—I mean I never—I didn’t know you fancied him, okay?”

“I did tell you!” Rose argued. “Right near the start of the school year!”

“What?” said Albus. “When?”

“I don’t know exactly...we were in the library, the three of us, and he had to leave for some reason, I can’t remember why...so it was just you and I there, and I told you I had decided that I liked him.”

“No you didn’t,” said Albus, “I don’t remember this at all. You’re imagining...” His voice trailed off, and he frowned in concentration. “Wait,” he said, “wait, hang on...yeah, no, I remember now...but you never said you fancied him.”

“I most certainly did—”

“No,” Albus cut her off, “no, you didn’t. All you said was that you liked him—”

“Exactly,” Rose began, but Albus wasn’t done:

“Well I didn’t know you meant like-like...I thought you just meant, you know, as a friend. Like, you had decided that you did like him after all, that he was okay. That you no longer thought he was an annoying, arrogant waste of space.”

“I hadn’t thought that in years,” Rose protested. “We’ve been friends—actual friends—since, I don’t know, end of second year.”

“Yeah,” said Albus, “I knew that, but I was never sure if you and Scorpius knew-knew that, or if you were just sort of going along in friendly denial...”

Rose stared at him. “You’re an idiot,” she said.

“In my defense,” Albus argued quickly, “you’ve known that all our lives. You should have realized I didn’t know what you were really talking about, and explained more clearly.”

Rose opened her mouth to argue, then shut it again. “You’re probably right,” she said. “I do know that.”

Albus nodded, smiling in victory, even if it was a victory that meant he was declared an idiot. Then he sobered, and pulled Rose into a tight hug. “I am really sorry, you know,” he said quietly. “I honestly had no idea. I wouldn’t have hurt you like that, not on purpose.”

Rose sighed. “I know,” she said tiredly, “but knowing that doesn’t stop it hurting.” She rested her head on Albus’s shoulder. “I guess it wouldn’t have mattered anyway though, huh?” Rose observed. She sighed unhappily. “Who would have guessed that Scorp was gay?”

“Um...half the population of Hogwarts?” suggested Albus.

Rose laughed. “No way,” she argued, “eighty percent of them, at least.”

Albus laughed as well. “I concede,” he said. “Five points to Ravenclaw.”

Rose smiled, and hugged her cousin. “Don’t tell Scorpius, will you? And try not to snog in front of me all the time, okay?”

“Deal,” said Albus.

“Okay,” Rose nodded, “thanks. So now tell me...is Scorp a good kisser?”

Albus grinned.

* * *

Three teenagers sat, laughing together, at one of the outdoor tables at Fortescue’s Nouveau Coffee-shop and Ice Cream Parlour. The tallest was a girl with a bright, bushy red mane, half-escaped from its binding. Next to her was a boy with an untidy mop of black hair and slim glasses that caught the fading afternoon light, flashing like mirrors when he threw back his head in amusement. He sat beside a very thin boy whose blond head was so pale it was nearly white, and who had two deep, fading bruises under his eyes.

All three sat close together, crowded around their small table with its trio of large, towering ice cream sundaes. The boys’ hands strayed together under the table, and their fingers kept tangling up, out of sight. The girl pretended not to notice. The blond fed the cherry atop his pile of whipped cream to the dark-haired boy, then stole the one off his sundae to give to the red-head. She smacked him lightly in reprimand, but still ate the stolen fruit, despite its owner’s protests.

If either boy saw that Rose’s blue eyes were red-rimmed, or noticed that her laughter was not as boisterous as usual, nor her smiles as strong, neither commented. Albus, of course, knew exactly why his cousin’s mood was subdued and as for Scorpius...well, he had always been a very perceptive boy.

If he had guessed, he surely also knew better than to say anything.
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