In Cauda Venenum

surprisingly enough, scorpius’ soft voice caught margaery’s attention and she turned her head towards him for long enough so that the people she had been yelling at a mere second earlier ran off. the blonde rolled her eyes at her childhood friend as she let out a sigh. “now look at what you’ve done… i wasn’t done with them yet.” she sighed, only half joking as she walked over to where he was standing. even though she’d  prefer to spend the night with melinoë, and she was definitely mad that she didn’t get to finish yelling at the unsuspecting first years, scorpius wasn’t a bad person to run into. after all, he was one of the few people she could be with for more than fifteen minutes without wanting to hex them into oblivion. the blonde took a moment to look the older boy up and down as she studied his costume, it wasn’t awful. it wasn’t some cheesy, overused costume. it was classy, and she supposed some people didn’t even realize he’d dressed up at all. “a wizard?” the girl asked with a small chuckle. “i think it’s an improvement.” she said as she nodded to his clothing, sure the boy usually dressed really well. but she really loved the all-black aesthetic.

“I assumed my presence was a bit of a treat compared to any alternatives.” Scorpius had heard the Head Boy’s voice as he walked toward the Hall. Elliot wouldn’t hesitate to put a stop to the Although some of Margaery’s behavior could be considered crude and implorable to other prefects, Scorpius would always have a soft spot in his heart for her. That soft spot meant that he’d never dare to take points away from her. Even if she did toe the line a bit. “Sometimes I even venture to guess that you enjoying getting in trouble.” A smile broke across Scorpius’s face. He was utterly complimented that Margaery of all people enjoyed his outfit. He hadn’t tried terribly hard at choosing what to wear but he did think the conjured cat was a rather smart idea. “Do you? I was worried people would think I was rather silly.” Or simple. But good breeding and etiquette prevented Scorpius from voicing all his insecurities in one go. “You look smart. No costume this year?”

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.”

Scorpius planned on walking away in the long silence the followed his utterly rash decision. It wasn’t like him to be so tactless. The older boy had seen over the years how it got his friends in trouble, how messy admitting any sort of feelings could be. Eden had caused enough drama for Scorpius to fully consider never seeing anyone in a romantic light. This daunting incredible urge that had taken over him was obviously the wrong decision. He did not know how he would manage to make his feet move. It seemed like an impossible task. He had drank on the side of too much. The combination of the imagined weight of five years of feelings finally being off his shoulders and put into the atmosphere with the lightness the fleeting peck had given him was entirely too consuming. Why hadn’t Albus moved his hands yet?

The next touch wasn’t a shock. It should have been. Despite everything in his body, the pit of his stomach practically screaming at him to dash away, Scorpius looked up. He was instantly relieved he did. Just as he was starting to say his best friend’s name, he was caught off guard with another kiss. What part of him had made the first one so short? It was practically a crime. His own hands moved rather slowly to grip onto Al’s shirt and leaned into the kiss, not that the possibility of it wrinkling would be of a bother to the other Slytherin. It had to be the only shirt Al owned that wasn’t wrinkled already. That wasn’t important at the moment but it seemed as though thinking of simple things was helping Scorpius stay still, standing, and present. Oh. Well, he did need to breathe. Reluctantly, Scorpius moved away. The shock clearly taking over the giddiness radiating from him. “You kissed me. I kissed you but you kissed me. And...you kissed me.” Well, it seemed he was permanently on repeat.

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.”

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 hi lips or shoulders. Definitely not his hands that now rested against the unfortunately thick cloak. It would be much to 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 he 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.

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’l make sure to ask my uncles about it, they’ll definitely know.” More to the point, they wouldn’t mind telling him.

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.

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’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.”

“How will my pureblood family ever love me again?” She said, sadness in her voice and puppy dog eyes on; her lips pulling into a pout. If she couldn’t make fun of the aristocratic traditionalists with her brother, who could she? “Probably, most people come to these things with the hard stuff and leave the wine for special occasions, what is it with all you guys and loving wine?” Beatrice let out a chuckle, shaking her head. “Oh, the muggle way. Sometimes I forget we can just charm things.” She admitted with a laugh “well when you want to go back to blonde, let me know. We’ll do it together. In the mean time, there’s a dancefloor for a reason.” 

“I supposed they won’t. There’s no way to get them back. You’ll most likely be forced to live a life on the road now.” Scorpius leaned over to poke Bea on the nose, entirely too concerned with how realistic her sad face was. “You’re frighteningly talented at that. Please stop.” Pulling a practiced exasperated face, Scorpius tsk’d as he pet his lovely conjured kitten. “It’s wine. It doesn’t burn. It’s not filled with sugar. It’s perfect enough that they have people who dedicate their whole life to it. I don’t understand how you can prefer anything else.” Glancing from his sister to the dancefloor, Scorpius raised a brow. “You’re joking. I am not going out there. I can stay here and ponder on hair color more.”

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.”

“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. 

A raised eyebrow was, for a beat, the only response Scorpius got to what Albus deemed a spectacular underestimation of Archibald Rowle’s psychological stability. “I think the cat being ours would be enough for him to go down this slippery slope, actually.” Ah, the cat hair thing. Having had such arguments with his parents at a young age, Albus was in possession of a thousand counter-arguments – for everything. “I’ll take care of that. As long as you groom the cat well it shouldn’t be too bad, and some breeds shed less than others. Besides, with magic cleaning becomes a non-issue.” He had to admit, the Great Hall had been pretty stuffy, he could tell that now. “I’m just as surprised as you are. I would have danced with you if you had been there.” Albus had entertained the idea that he’d answer all of his best friend’s questions, but that was before an avalanche of them came crashing down. “Don’t name her or you’ll get attached,” he simply answered with a smile. “We’ll name the real one if you still want it once all traces of alcohol have left your bloodstream.”

“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.”

“One hundred percent an underground trading ring, and not from a seventh year muggleborn Slytherin boy who I know has a crush on me.” She chuckled out slightly “I would be over the moon though if there was a Hufflepuff secret society, though I highly doubt it.” She grinned at him before placing a kiss on his cheek. “You know you don’t have to rely on what I say to know you look stunning, you’re always handsome, Scorpy. But yes, I was planning on going the signature shade of Malfoy blonde.” She grinned at him before laughing “I don’t know if they’ll believe us then. Might have something to do with the fact that you’re Asian and I’m black as fuck.” She shrugged slightly “but whenever you feel like changing your hair up or going back to blonde let me know and I’ll come over with peroxide and we can both look like Malfoys. We can rope Ally into helping us,” she chuckled at the thought of Albus trying to work his way around a hair dye box in order to help them out.

"A muggleborn? Sometimes it seems as though you're asking to be disowned." Scorpius finished his sentence with his nose firmly pointed in the air. He didn't dare let any laughter escape him lest it ruin his bit but he couldn't keep a wide smirk off his face. "Don't muggles have wine? He should have pawned you some.” Really, any type of wine. Even if it was from California and not France would be preferable to liquor. “There has to be one! Or at least there once was. There’s too many rumors for it to be untrue.” Scorpius lit up under the affections of his chosen sister. She was utterly delighting and although there were wildly unsimilar he desperately wished he could have her confidence and fire for just one night. “If you don’t compliment me, who will? I think we could finally fool some people. Not everyone is as bright as you.” Scorpius paused to consider her words. “Peroxide?” Somehow she had lost him along the way. “I just charmed it.”

The loss of the cat’s fur beneath his fingers was enough for Albus to let out a plaintive sort of moan, which died out as soon as warmth returned in the form of Scorpius’ hand. Now he wouldn’t lose his best friend in the crowd if he held on fast. “You’d be fine with a cat in the dorm?” That was a first. “What if Douchibald poisons it or something? He’d do it, you know that.” He listened to Scorpius’ retelling of his evening so far, frowning as his suspicions were confirmed and he had, effectively, been given something to drink. Several somethings, and he hadn’t had as much to eat as Albus to help cover it up, visibly. Following the prefect outside, Al made sure to stay close to the blond even though the hand holding would ensure they wouldn’t lose each other. “I did, it was awful. As in surprised I didn’t dance with you? I think the only type of dance I wouldn’t butcher is slow dancing, but everyone can do those. We can try outside if you want.”

Scorpius glanced back at Albus with a bit of confusion. “Yes? Why not? He’s an arsehole, not a psychopath. The hair everywhere would be a nuisance. I’m not going to get a hairless one though. They’re too strange.” He turned back around, successfully pulling Albus out of the Great Hall. Feeling just marginally cooler, Scorpius let go of Albus’s hand for a second to grasp at his best friend’s arm. “I’m surprised that you danced at all. But if I thought if you were going to dance with someone that you would dance with me. How would we dance without music? What would we even do with the cat? I haven’t even named her yet. Do I name her if she’s going to turn back into a book?”

Alright, Scorpius was not in his usual state. He had probably met Bea as well, or that nasty bugger Rosier – a bad influence if Albus ever saw one. He was about to say something about that but the cat his best friend had conjured was suddenly in Alby’s face, and he melted. “This is the best use of charms book ever. Can we keep it as a cat? We’ll read in my charms book together.” Many times over, Albus had considered asking his parents for a cat. He had come very close to it too, but then his plan to go see the world once he’d graduate had taken form, and he knew it would do him no good to adopt a cat he’d have to leave behind. Seeing this one up close, he nearly forgot Scorpius, busy as he was touching the soft fur on the animal’s head. Yet one cute creature always calls for another, and so – “Where were you? I lost you and couldn’t find you anywhere, it was terrible! Beatrice made me dance with her!”

Pulling the cat back, Scorpius held her safely against his chest with one hand. The other had decided now was a perfect time to investigate the feeling of Albus’s hand in his. “I forgot how long she’s going to stay a cat. But she’s not a cat. She’s a charms textbook.” The last sentence was mostly directed at said charms textbook in a loving voice. He really couldn’t bear to part with her. “We could get a real one. For the dorm. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about my textbook not wanting to act like a textbook.” Scorpius took a slow glance around the room while he listened to Albus whine, his hand still firmly gripping the others. “I was around. I ran into Bea when we first got here and then I lost her because one of the girls appeared but she gave me firewhiskey and muggle vodka and then Eden made me drink something but he wouldn’t tell me what it was. It tasted really good though. And I saw Warren too! He looks rather silly. But he kind of is dressed like you. You look much better. Can we go outside? It’s hot in here.” Without waiting for an answer, Scorpius began walking to the entrance of the Great Hall. “You danced at a dance? I’m shocked. I’m more surprised you danced without me.”

“A drink is a drink, I have some muggle vodka on the way so I can come to you when that’s done?” She offered before tucking the flask away when he was finished. “I think one of the seventh years is planning on it, but if I go to drink some in the next hour and it isn’t spiked I’m going to do it myself.” Bea chuckled before resting her head on her pseudo-brother’s shoulder. “Sugar pie, you know I don’t have to say it out loud for me to think you look handsome as hell. But for the record, you do. I love the brunette on you,” she said sincerly. “Speaking of, I’m thinking of going Malfoy blonde, what do you think?” 

Scorpius’s mouth dropped open in a show of poor manners. It was rare he got to try muggle alcohol! Tonight was guaranteed to be a good night if he was going to be that devious. “Where did you get that from? Some underground trading ring in the kitchens? Or the Hufflepuff secret society?” A small part of Scorpius always hoped the Hufflepuff secret society was real. It would certainly make life more interesting. Not that it needed to be more interesting right now. “I was considering keeping it for a bit. But only if you liked it.” He wrapped an arm around Bea’s waist, overjoyed with the attention he was receiving. “Blonde? Malfoy blonde? Any answer I give you is going to incredibly biased. Oh, you have to. Maybe people will believe we’re related.”