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“Oh Merlin.” Lily hissed under her breath, holding back the urge to dig her nails into her brother’s arm and pull him back. “Can you shut up for real now? If I have to watch you make fricken googly eyes at your blonde boy toy all day and all night for the rest of eternity then I can stare at a hot boy for like once, maybe, in my life, okay? And you’re not Dad so you don’t get the pull the bullshit protective act. I’m fifteen. I’m practically of age. And the whole I must stay in a box and never experience any kind of attraction to anyone thing is super demeaning and insulting. Don’t act like some macho bullshit toxic masculinity arsehole. You’re not.”

Usually, when Lily went on a rant Albus was all for listening to her and rectifying whatever had been wrong with his behaviour. This time however he had little patience, for three good reasons: “first of all, it’s not about you ogling a boy. I know you’re old and capable enough to take care of yourself, and I never said you shouldn’t experience anything. It’s about it being him because secondly, he’s the worst person to be attracted to, unless you’re Raziela Lestrange. Honestly, Lily, doesn’t the fact that she, of all people, thinks he’s the pinnacle of perfection tip you off to how terrible a person he is?” Finding someone aesthetically pleasing was a thing, harbouring these thoughts in spite of said person’s awful personality was another. “And lastly, never again, you hear me? Ever call Scorpius a boy toy. And I’m supposedly the one being demeaning and insulting.”

The pale ‘slightly’ older boy gave a bit of jump at the touch to his hips. Scorpius had been so concentrated on not looking anywhere but Albus’s eyes. Even with the surprise touch this was not the proper time to look at his lips or shoulders. Definitely not his hands that now rested against the unfortunately thick cloak. It would be too much trouble to ask for a moment to take it off for something as ridiculous as wanting to feel more of Albus against him. Even in such a chaste way as the heat from his friend’s hands calmed and grounded him. If he were more sober, Scorpius would have pondered if his best friend even understood what he had been asking. Not that there had ever needed to be any clarification between them. He had only said he wished to give him a hint. That wasn’t even the slightest bit clever. It didn’t reveal any part of his motives. He would have dwelled on how upset he was that Elijah had stolen his first kiss. How this moment could have been it. Something even more anxiety inducing and special. If he ever worked up the courage to make any sort of action. “It’s a hint. You’re my favorite.” He whispered back. Unsure if Albus could even hear him before he closed the short distance between them. Scorpius didn’t dwell on the pleasant, butterfly inducing, toe curling action that brought color to his cheeks. He pulled his lips away after only a second or two, still in some shock that he had actually done something. His gaze moved to the floor. Perhaps if he didn’t make eye contact with Albus then then his own redding cheeks wouldn’t be noticed.

Albus barely had time to proceed what was going on before the kiss came to an end. Granted, he had known -- more like hoped with a gut feeling to back it up -- it would come to this, but that didn’t make him ready. And right when it all snapped into place, it was over. He hadn’t even had time to kiss back.

So it was logical that he’d stay completely still for a time, barely breathing, eyes roving all over Scorpius’ offered profile. His hands hadn’t left the other boy’s hips, gripping the thick coat a little tighter. His fingers twitched, though, aching to run over the smooth skin of reddened cheeks, burrow among locks charmed an unnatural colour on the Slytherin, smooth the spot between his brows too often creased in concern and anxiety. Scorpius was beautiful, it was a fact plain as day; but right then it felt new, like a veil he never knew was there had finally been lifted, and now he saw the world’s true colours and they said: Scorpius is not just beautiful, he’s breathtaking; he’s kind, loving, and dependable: a loyal friend through thick and thin; he’s smart and mature and wise, perfect even in his flaws; Scorpius turned my world upside down, and he kissed me.

“Hey,” one set of long fingers found its way to the blond’s face, brushing against high cheekbone and aristocratic jawline. The Potter child wanted, needed, to feel those lips against his own again just to make sure. He ached to kiss back, to tell without a word that he felt the same. Leaning in slowly, he pushed the complex, raw emotions of teenage love growing inside him, from his mouth to Scorpius’. He lingered, made it last a little longer than the previous one had. His first kiss. Even when he pulled away his hands never let go of the prefect’s face and hip, smoothing calming circles with his thumbs. “I’m glad. You’re my favourite too.”

“Can you buzz off or swim off or whatever the heck happens in Atlantis, please?” In their very muggle media influenced childhood, Lily hadn’t liked that movie. And it was only because Allie liked it so much. And what Allie liked was usually boring. Or educational. Same thing. “You’re ruining my very real chances at staring at a very naked blonde boy with your talking.” Lily ended her sentence with her patented Potter smile. The one that usually got her an extended curfew and extra allowance at home. “If I headbutt you, will it help you stop?”

“A what?!” Much like an offended father, Albus whirled around, trying to spot whomever had thought attending a party naked would be a good idea. There were children around, for Merlin’s sake! Hell, hogging his sister’s attention sounded like an excellent thing at the moment. Even more so when, following Lily’s gaze, who did Albus see but Archibald Rowle, wearing what looked like a bedsheet about to fall off his body. First of all, no one was allowed to bemoan Al’s own lack of interest about the event anymore. Rowle had clearly put in a lot less effort than the brunette had. Second of all, “Lily, I swear to everything I hold dear I’ll set this piece of trash on fire before you can corrupt your eyesight with the disgusting display this douche is currently offering the poor, innocent Hogwarts crowd.”

Scorpius seemed to lose all mirth in an instant. He was so utterly exhausted by the mere mention of his prior crush on James. It had used to be fun. To joke about it and see Al’s fake jealousy. But something in recent years had shifted and the (usually) blonde boy gained no joy from bringing it up anymore. He had been eleven when it started. A child in every sense of the word. He grew up hearing so much about Harry Potter in different conversations from very different people. Some good. Some bad. Always exasperated when coming from his father. But James felt like the Harry Potter he had grown up reading about. Nice. Friendly. He knew things. He was brave! James was a bundle of energy, maybe too similar to Lily for his taste. He’d gotten over the crush quick. Truly favoring Albus more and more. “What on Merlin’s green earth would give you that idea? I was having a nice time too. I want to keep having a nice time.” Scorpius leaned in again, his giggling period finally over. He relished in the closeness of his best friend. The feeling of safety the darker haired boy carried with him. “You still have to guess my favorite Potter. Do you need a hint?” There was a second of brief hesitant, where Scorpius’s gaze dodged from Albus’s eyes to his lips. He didn’t know how long he’d felt the need to be closer. Months? A year? How long had he been sketching Al’s shoulders for? Long enough that if he closed his eyes now he could picture them perfectly in his white uniform shirt. Salazar help him. “Can I give you a hint?” If he didn’t ask, that wouldn’t be right. But even with a hefty amount of liquid courage, Scorpius couldn’t move himself to be entirely direct.

Half a dozen clever retorts rushed to Albus’ lips, charging to be the first to spill from his mouth and the smart-arse smirk it would no doubt take the shape of. All of them relented when Scorpius’ face, radiant as a full moon and looking as soft as ever, occupied the entire space in front of Al. The Slytherin was in large part used to it: he zeroed in on the blond whenever he could lay eyes on him, making anyone else insignificant. Yet this time it wasn’t his imagination placing his best friend at the forefront of his vision, and he couldn’t help but notice how much harder it was to keep looking. It felt like the searing heat of the sun burning through your eyelids, making you see red and orange and gold even with your eyes closed. And much like lying down on the grass in the backyard in summer, everything about their situation – the close proximity, the low voices, and that feeling in the pit of Albus’ stomach like he knew what was to come but wouldn’t let himself realise just yet – felt right. Every moment, thought Albus, from the very first word exchanged, the first of many during that white night, every single second spent by Scorpius’ side had surely been building up to this, now. And while he should have felt nervous maybe, apprehensive, anxious – there was only room for a quiet certitude in his chest, beating in time with his heart, quieter than it had been in a while. “Please do,” he nearly whispered, hands coming to rest lightly on the prefect’s hips. “Please.”

“I don’t look weird. I look great. You look weird.” She could at least fake self confidence in her appearance until she truly felt it. Lily crossed her arms over her chest and gave her brother a practiced eye roll. What was the point of siblings if they were just going to be awful all the time. “Are you from Atlantis? That movie’s so old. It’s ancient.” Lily uncrossed her arms to pull at Allie’s shirt. The color was kind of nice on him but she’d never tell him that. “I’m not going to headbutt anyone. That’s really bad advice. Don’t headbutt anyone. Maybe Jamie. Maybe you.”

“Greatly weird, or weirdly great. Contrary to you, I know how to take a compliment, so thank you.” If he let go of his reservations, Albus would quickly write an entire book about how amazing his sister was, and she’d call him mushy. He’d rather be told he looks weird, thank you very much. “I am, and it is. It was either Milo or Jim from Treasure Planet, I found the clothes for Milo faster.” He could have gone to the party without dressing up -- hell, he could have not gone at all, but as usual, Scorpius. One name for a rather long tale of mutual coercion. “I love how we’re always the exceptions to your rules, especially when it’s something nasty. Your headbutts could save the world, you know.”

“She’s not my favorite Potter.” Scorpius’s life would be much different if Lily was the sixth year Slytherin he had ended up befriending for life. She was definitely brasser than Albus at times. A bit too much for Scorpius to always handle. He appreciated Al’s quiet energy too much to ever let it go. Or to let him go at the current moment. Scorpius rested his forehead against Albus’s and sighed dramatically. “I took in you. Does that count for nothing? A Slytherin Streetcat! A sulky streetcat!” He was not done with alliterations but did pull away again to giggle, finding it altogether rude to do so in his friend’s face. Perhaps this was going to be his state forever. Giggling and holding Albus. “Can you become a drinking expert then or a drinking explorer? I want more. It tasted like Christmas.”

Gasp! Hand flying to his heart, Albus then pretended to fan himself, displaying a drastic change of mood from earlier. “Is this the moment you bring up your crush on my brother? I was having a nice time, I should have known something would inevitably happen to bring me back down.” His playful jab (although was it really playful, he wasn’t so sure anymore – Scorpius’ attraction to James had slowly turned into a sore subject) was quickly forgotten in the face of their sudden proximity. This never happened normally, not out in the open, not without a good reason. Al detested reason. And maybe he was reading too much into the situation, into his best friend’s words, but given the current circumstances it simply put his heart at ease. “It does count for something,” he replied softly. “Thank you for not taking in a posh Slytherin cat.” Scorpius didn’t seem to be in any state to appreciate the impact of his words, but it didn’t matter. Al was fine just listening to his uncharacteristic giggle and drinks-related ramblings. “I’ll make sure to ask my uncles about it, they’ll definitely know.” More to the point, they wouldn’t mind telling him.

paige had felt hesitant about halloween, as her mother had cancelled her ball in order to accommodate to growing fears in the community. so it left the young witch at hogwarts for halloween–one of her favorite holidays. as far as tipsy wixen went, paige was a part of the statistic. not drunk, totally, but relaxed for the first time in ages.

when she saw albus in the corner by himself, she started to walk over. or dance really, weaving between people on the dance floor until she was released. he looked so peaceful, his eyes shut and his head tilted back ever so slightly. there was something about albus that always made her heart melt a bit–she thought that it was probably because he was sort of like the younger cousin who she had always wanted, as hers were all older than her by quite a few years. seeing him jump back as she approached, the girl couldn’t help but giggle.

“no, not exactly. i was wondering if you wanted to dance? unless i’m interrupting something.”

Ah, right - most of the wixen in presence didn’t seem to feel the same way Albus did about that night, something he was quick to remember when Paige Lennox, so demure and guarded at times, asked if he wanted to dance. Now, his one try with Bea had been more than enough, but Al started regretting the buzzing feeling in his head induced by alcohol, and he couldn’t think of something more pathetic than drinking by his lonesome in a corner. Should have brought Perks of Being a Wallflower to that stupid party, he mumbled to himself, mouthing the words more than actually pronouncing them.

“I don’t really dance, it’s not my thing. If you want to share a drink or something though, I’m game. You were only interrupting me being... an introvert. Or is it a misanthrope? It’s a fine line I’m toeing.”

The reply he’d received to his apology had him whirling around to make sure he hadn’t accidentally just stumbled over his ex, but nope - just his ex’s roommate.  Instead of excusing himself like his instincts told him to, Hermes turned to glance at the spectacle that seemed to have Albus Potter so entranced and snorted.  “Nope.  I don’t bet on ginger girls.  Girls in general are unpredictable, but the redheads are absolutely mental.”  He watched the couple for a moment longer before he sighed.  “If the girl had any holiday spirit, she’d use the Melofors jinx, but I’ll bet you five that she’ll use a knockback jinx.  Gingers and their tempers.  Bat-bogey isn’t violent enough, I’m betting.”

The more the guy spoke, the sterner Albus’ look got, so much so that he ended up glaring at whoever the hell the kid was. Never count on Albus Potter to remember a person. Although imagining his mother standing right behind the guy as he talked was pretty much hilarious, as proved by the twitching of his mouth. “Do you have an idea how many ginger women I know?” he asked slowly, a nasty smirk spreading on his face. “You’re pretty much dragging my mother, my grandmother, my cousin, and someone who’s as good as family to me. And I mean, I’m no tattle tale but I really, really want to see the look on your face if they were to gang up on you.” Nothing like an angry Molly Weasley to set you straight, even if she was faking it. “I mean, I don’t look like I’d have any ginger relatives -- coming to think of it I most probably don’t, but half this castle has ties to the Weasleys one way or another.” He grinned as the girl, as predicted by the other teen, hurled a nasty knockback jinx at the boy who, if he knew what was good for him, would stay away from her until graduation - at least. “Too bad I didn’t get whether you were betting or not, you could have gotten a pretty penny.”

Of all the things that Albus could’ve done, slipping his hand into hers was the most surprising. She didn’t question it and the only indication that Violet gave was the slight crease that appeared in her forehead. The blonde squeezed his hand back - a solitary, I’m here and not going anywhere message. She still wasn’t sure what was wrong but she knew (she hoped) he’d tell her in due time. The moment passed in a second, but it felt like minutes. Violet tried to hide the unease that was rubbing off by continuing to joke with him. “Oi, okay mister. Just remember who taught you everything you know.”

Albus smiled, but it hardly did anything to the knot that was forming in her stomach. She knew she shouldn’t be worrying - that everything was fine. The call of the party was strong and it took all she had to turn her back on it. “Come on, I think I need a glass too.” Violet started to pull him along, towards the kitchens. Except that she was heading the completely opposite direction. 

Acutely aware of how confusing his behaviour probably was, Albus tried to shake it off. Violet’s hand like a lifeline pulled him out of his funk, slowly but steadily, and the Slytherin threw his all into their light jokes. “Oi yourself. The pupil has to become stronger than the master, isn’t that a rule?”

Maybe trusting Violet to steer him in the right direction had been a bit naive. Squinting, Albus tried to understand where the blonde was leading them. When it became clear it was nowhere they’d find a glass of anything, he thought better to take the lead himself. “Alright, where were you trying to go? I don’t think McGonagall’s office is the best place for a drink, then again maybe it’s just me.”

“Ally, my dear, you need to stop worrying about being embarrassed.” She told him honestly, pressing a finger to his forehead as they danced. “Those who matter won’t mind, and those who mind won’t matter,” Bea said before kissing his cheek, taking his hand and spinning him around. “Besides, I’m sure the Wotters and my darling brother would love to see you actually having fun,” she teased lightly.

Was he really worrying? If so, was it just a teenage phase that would let go of him as he grew older, or did it have something to do with his personality? Albus wasn’t outgoing, and he didn’t dance. Was that the root of his feeling out of place? Surely. He knew how to have fun, there were tons of things he liked to do for no other reason than it made him feel good. Dancing was not one of these things. Still, because he liked Bea very much, and because being spun around after he had downed a reasonable amount of alcohol made him light-headed, he tried his best to reciprocate. At least the young woman was shorter than him, which made the spinning around easier.

“Of course.” It was quite impossible to stay serious while teasing Albus. Scorpius placed the cat on the ground to have an excuse to look away from. “I would say practically everyone feels that way. I’m quite loveable.” He stood up, a far away thought of how he would find his textbook later when the cat changed back passed through his mind but Scorpius didn’t dwell on it. He was tired of holding the thing anyway, no matter how soft it was. “I had no idea you were such a cat expert. A feline fanatic, if you will.” Scorpius giggled. He was rather surprised with the noise that came out of his mouth and giggled harder. “Why do you assume I’d want a posh cat? A posh pussycat. Merlin. You’re ridiculous.” He mouthed the words ‘posh pussycat’ again, gladly falling into Al’s arm. He wrapped his own around his best friend’s neck, still a giggling mess. “None of it looked appetizing. If I wanted to gorge myself on sweets, I’d go to Grandmother Greengrass’s house. I want more of whatever it was that Eden had. It wasn’t sweet. It was like…licorice, I think? Is that a type of drink? A licorice drink?” Scorpius tried his best to casually wipe his offended cheek off. 

Albus let out a groan, both because the current banter required it and because damn, he would have liked to hold this cat. “Oh, I see where you come from. It’s the same thing for Lily, actually. I get outraged whenever someone claims she’s not their favourite Potter.” Even though the best part was watching Harry fall for his daughter’s innocent act time and again. It was much like thinking Scorpius had ended in Slytherin by some kind of mistake -- whoever believed this was in for a rude awakening one day. Although right now, his best friend was reduced to a giggling mess and Albus couldn’t figure out whether he should even try to give decent replies to whatever the blond-turned-brunette was saying. “Are you saying you’d happily take in a street cat? I don’t believe that.” Ah yes, that guy again. Who had ever deemed him a good enough influence to be in Scorpius’ life? There should be a way to find out how a child would turn out, it would avoid such mistakes. “I don’t know, Scorp, I’m not a drinking expert. Drinks druid? Are you still into alliterations?”

she gave a loud sigh, “okay, okay.” though she could sense her over-friendliness causing albus some awkwardness, the redhead doing her best to try and dial herself down. she could be a bit loud for some at times. “i was, actually.” she said with a small grin, “why do you think i hunted you out? my deadly arm traps were all part of the plan — i had to hunt you out before i could do any of the executing.” 

“Deadly arm traps,” Albus repeated, shaking his head like he’d rather just go to bed right now. Which, coming to think of it, wasn’t wrong. At least being with Niamh promised some entertaining minutes, half hour maybe? She’d hunt down some other people, of that the Slytherin was sure, and he’d happily look on as she trapped other people. With her deadly arms. “So how are you going to execute me exactly? I don’t like surprises much. Poisoning? Quidditch bat right in the face? Do you hope to deliver a line such as, ‘I want the last face you see to be mine’?”

“Perhaps it would only be a problem if the cat was yours.” Or if it wasn’t a mutt but he didn’t dare voice that. Scorpius hadn’t lost all his inhibitions. “You want me to ‘groom’ it? Don’t the cats just…exist?” He had never had to groom anything but himself and it didn’t sound too pleasant. Wasn’t the whole point of a cat that it was able to exist on its own? They were only there for petting, really. “Oh. Did I imagine when you were drinking as well? Must be all the alcohol in my bloodstream.” That was another one of Albus’s funny words he had picked up over the years. Though he had no idea what it truly meant. “It seems the only thing running through your bloodstream is judgement. Silly me.”

False outrage was painted all over Alby’s face before he could even register it. “Are you saying he hates you less than he hates me? Do I have that much power over him? I’m starting to quite like the direction this is taking.” Rolling his eyes at Scorpius’ silly question -- apparently not that silly, since it was being asked --, Al couldn’t help the fond smile on his face. “It depends on the cat. Short haired breeds won’t require a lot of grooming, but wouldn’t you like a really stunning cat? Long-haired ones are a lot more... posh?” It felt like arguing with another parent about whether they should adopt an older child or a toddler, and it was only as the thought crossed his mind that Albus noticed how relaxed he was gradually getting. Wasn’t it funny how Scorpius could be as intoxicating as alcohol? “I did drink, but I made sure to eat afterwards. Have you eaten anything?” Judgement? Nah, only light banter. In order to make sure his words came off just as he had intended, and because they were alone, or maybe for no other reason than because he could, Albus wrapped an arm around his best friend’s waist, leaning in to noisily kiss his cheek. “I'm all ears for more alcohol-sponsored thoughts. No judging - hopefully.”