#keep the secrets

Fri, 17 Feb 2017 22:01:08

By@jijikaadraw

Happy Valentines Day! Or not?! <3

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #scorbus fluff #valentines day #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Fri, 17 Feb 2017 20:01:21

By@erisedsubrocs

3.4k words, G Rated

With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, Albus makes the decision to risk everything and tell Scorpius his biggest secret yet. However, untimely complications arise, putting Albus’s plan out of action and steering him down a dangerous path of pain and longing.

Scorpius continues to prove why he is the best friend a boy could possibly have.

Thank you so much to @autumn-of-ilvermorny for not only being my fantastic beta once again, but also for supporting me as I delved into this new area of writing, and for being a great friend :)

————

7 Days

Albus Potter fell heavily onto his four-poster bed in the Slytherin fifth year boys’ dormitory, his body curled up in a combination of anger and frustration. Valentine’s Day was all well and good for some people, he thought bitterly, punching the pillow viciously. Some people were lucky enough to find it easy, fun, enjoyable, even wish-fulfilling. Some people were normalenough to be able to take a person they cared for out for the day. Albus on the other hand, was not normal, was not lucky, and was most certainly not enjoying himself. He delivered a few more blows to the condemned pillow before screwing his eyes shut and counting to ten.

Letting out a long sigh of air, he slowly uncurled himself and sat up, straightening his robes carefully. Scorpius had stayed behind to talk to Professor McGonagall about a particular type of Switching Spell, which Albus had viewed as a perfect opportunity to let out some of his pent-up emotions with some long overdue sulking. Despite how brief his period of solitude had been, he felt it had helped to a degree; that is, until Scorpius walked into the room.

Albus stiffened as his best friend entered, softly closing the door behind himself. His heartbeat quickened and he felt his hands instantly grow sweaty. He cursed himself inwardly, hating that he had no control, and hating the way these feelings made him hurt in so many ways.

“Hey Albus!” Scorpius sang, jumping onto his own bed and flopping down dramatically. When Albus, still partially paralysed, didn’t respond, Scorpius sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Are you okay?”

Albus struggled to reply, finally managing, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just – tired…”

Scorpius looked concerned, but nodded anyway. “Me too, actually. I knew fifth year was going to be intense but this is mega-intense, especially Transfiguration. Transfiguration has to be Giga-Intense at least! And then on top of all of that there’s Valentine’s Day! I still don’t think I’m going to be taking anyone, seeing as there’s only a week left, and I think it takes slightly longer than that to find true love-”

Scorpius hesitated, then asked, “Are you taking anyone?”

Albus looked up and met Scorpius’s eyes, swallowing. “I- I mean – no. No, I don’t think so.”
He cursed himself again, aware how stupid it had sounded, and aware of the fact he had just admitted defeat to himself. He knew exactly who he’d like to ask out, knew exactly who it was that made his stomach hurt with longing every time they were together. And they were together a lot, him and Scorpius. They were best friends after all, and Albus didn’t know if being near Scorpius so often was good or bad for him. He felt reasonably confident in his ability to hide his feelings from Scorpius. If anything, his ability to keep his feelings closeted was what he felt most confident in. He had had plenty of practice after all, having decided last year to not tell anyone that he was gay.

Scorpius frowned very slightly, before grinning broadly. “Oh well! We can go into Hogsmeade on the 14^th as fellow bachelors.” He bent forward into a ridiculous sitting-down bow, before flopping backwards onto the bed again.

Albus forced a smile, which became genuine as Scorpius’s stomach gave a very audible rumble.

“Dinner time, I think,” he said.

“Yes!” replied Scorpius, jumping to his feet and following Albus towards the dormitory door. “And Albus, it’s Friday today, which means-“ He performed a drumroll on Albus’s back as they walked down the spiral staircase “-Treacle tart!”

Albus turned and began to walk backwards down the stairs, so that he could laugh up at Scorpius’s eager face. “Trust you to only think of the dessert,” he said fondly. “I’m thinking of the roast chicken and potatoes…”

They continued their banter as they walked, without haste, towards the Great Hall, and Albus almost forgot about being worried, and about the impending decision he would soon have to make.

————

5 Days

He was going to tell Scorpius. Tonight. Albus Potter was going to tell Scorpius Malfoy that he loved him, and that he would like to take him on an actual date for Valentine’s Day.

Albus Potter was also terrified. He was more terrified than he had ever been in his entire life, including during the events of last year. He knew in that moment that if it would make telling Scorpius easier, he would gladly fight Delphi three times over, but he also knew that he had to do it. He kept telling himself over and over that it would be worse for him if he kept it bottled up. He kept trying to reassure himself by going over the times that Scorpius had possibly indicated that he may feel the same way. His preoccupation clearly showed during his classes, owing to the fact that he was asked to pay attention on six separate occasions.

Albus decided to visit the Owlery before going to lunch, and asked Scorpius to save him some soup. Scorpius looked confused, but agreed, heading down to the Great Hall alone whilst Albus walked towards the tower housing the multitudes of owls residing at Hogwarts. He needed time to think over exactly what he was going to say, plan it word for word, because he knew when the time came he would most certainly not have the ability to construct a coherent sentence.

He entered the large, airy room filled with resting owls and sat down on the window sill, listening to the soft hoots drifting down to him. They knew him well, for Albus’s favourite place to visit when he needed to think was the Owlery, and he had to think a lot, especially since his feelings for Scorpius had evolved beyond friendship.

He took in a deep breath of the crisp air that was blowing gently through the open tower and held out his arms, waiting. After a few moments, his own tawny owl flew down from her perch and landed on his upper forearm. Before long, seven more followed, landing on his arms, shoulders and knees. Scorpius’s eagle owl took up his usual place on Albus’s right shoulder, gently nibbling at his hair.

Albus closed his eyes, focusing on the comforting weight of his companions, and began to work on his script, comforted by the thought that there was nothing here that could add to his confusion and trepidation.

***

After twenty minutes of detached thinking, Albus concluded that his speech was as planned as it was going to get. After ensuring he gave each of the eight owls perched on him an equally affectionate goodbye he stood up, carefully brushing the feathers off his robes before hurrying down to the Great Hall.

True to his word, Scorpius had saved him a bowl of soup and a stack of toast, as well as a chair on his left. Albus’s stomach gave its customary swoop followed by a cramp of longing as he sat down beside Scorpius. He waited until he was sure he could speak normally, before answering Scorpius’s exuberant “Hi!”.

In between hurried mouthfuls of soup and toast, Albus took in Scorpius’s radiant expression and excited fidgeting. “What’s got you so worked up Scorp?”

“Albus!” he squeaked in response.

“Yes?”

“Guess what?”

“What?” asked Albus, with increasing bewilderment.

“I- You were wrong! I was first! I’ve got- I’m going- I was first!”

Scorpius was practically bouncing up and down on his chair now, hands drawn up into his sleeves and clutching the collar of his robes.

“Scorpius, what are you talking about? What do you mean you were first?”

“You said you’d be first to get a girlfriend, remember!”

Albus blinked, taking several moments to process what Scorpius had said. A horrible feeling began to settle in the pit of his stomach. “What do you mean?” he said in barely more than a whisper.

“I just got asked out! For Valentine’s Day! By Georgia Evett from Ravenclaw!”

Albus swallowed thickly. “What- what did you say to her?”

“YES!” squeaked Scorpius. “Well, I hope I said it in a more refined manner, but I said yes of course! Georgia asked me out and I said yes! Have you seen how pretty and nice and clever she is Albus?”

Albus blinked again, the feeling in his stomach now awfully heavy. “No, I can’t say I have,” he managed. “Congratulations mate, you deserve someone nice.” His voice sounded strange, as though it was coming from a long way away.

“Thank you!” beamed Scorpius. He looked up at the clock and noted the time. “I have to go to Arithmancy, I’ll meet you in the common room for our study period.”

“Actually Scorp, I said I’d study with Lily today,” Albus found himself saying, though he had made no such plans. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, okay,” replied Scorpius, looking a little hurt. “I’ll see you afterwards then.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Albus, picking up his bag and returning the piece of toast he had been holding back to its plate, where it promptly vanished. The food he had eaten now felt like wet concrete that was slowly setting.

***

As Scorpius climbed the staircase with his Arithmancy classmates, and the rest of the Slytherin fifth years walked towards the Divination tower, Albus made a beeline for the staircase descending down to the dungeons, breaking into a clumsy run as he neared the common room. There were three seventh years sitting in the armchairs by the window, and they shot him questioning looks as he hurriedly walked towards the spiral staircase leading up to the dormitory.

He flung himself onto his bed, fingers tangled painfully in his hair, and curled in on himself, making himself as small as possible. There were no tears, just pain, hurt, anger and more pain. The fact that the image of Scorpius’s ecstatic face was etched across his mind didn’t help matters. There was simply no escaping the reality of how much his best friend meant to him, and how much it hurt when any chances he had of developing a romantic relationship with Scorpius were smashed to pieces in an instant.

The tears did start to come then. They came thick and fast, soaking his hair and pillow as he sobbed. This was not the same crying that he had done when he was three and James had spilled water on his newly completed picture of Harry. This was not the same crying that he had done when Scorpius was being tortured by Delphi in the Triwizard maze. Albus realised as he lay there shaking and sobbing that in fact, this was closest to the crying he had done when Harry had said those horrible words to him last year. It was the crying reserved for the deepest of injuries, the most painful of wounds.

He cried until there was nothing left, and after that he simply lay there, thinking about what would happen now.

————

3 Days

In the time after his afternoon in the dormitory, Albus had started doing what he did best: hiding his feelings and pain, keeping them confined inside his mind. This left Albus with nothing to display to the public, and he therefore appeared to revert to the Albus that had entered Hogwarts four years ago. He became closed off, inexpressive, and detached from everyone and everything he interacted with.

On the inside however, there was a civil war raging that was slowly destroying him from within. One side of him (evidently what Gryffindor characteristics he had inherited from his parents) was trying to convince him to tell Scorpius the truth. It argued that he still had a good chance, that Scorpius hadn’t mentioned anything about Georgia or Valentine’s Day since that fateful lunch, that surely Scorpius, his best friend and sole companion for four years, who had been through hell and back for him, at least felt something for Albus.

Then there was the other, more prevalent side of Albus. The side that was scared, hurt, squashed and terrified of making things worse. This side of him argued, in a shrewd, hissing voice, that telling Scorpius the truth could drive him away forever, destroy their bond, cause him to lose the friendship that had been the one fantastically reliable thing Albus had had since he was eleven years old.

No, it was best to play it safe, he thought to himself. He was completely unaware that Scorpius had been attempting to talk with him for the better part of five minutes, absorbed as he was in his worries about driving his best friend away.

————

1 Day

“Albus Severus Potter, look at me right now and listen to what I have to say.”

Albus jerked his head up in surprise at the sound of Scorpius’s raised voice. He looked across the table at Scorpius, who was sitting in the armchair directly opposite him.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, slowly.

Scorpius looked him directly in the face, his eyes filled with concern and determination.

“Albus, I’ve been trying to talk to you for four days. Four days. Something is wrong, you’re hiding something from me and I’m sick of watching it destroy you. I want you to talk to me right now, and tell me what’s the matter. Neither of us are going to leave this common room until I’m sure you’re not keeping anything dangerous locked up in that head of yours anymore.”

Albus stilled in his chair, his eyes not leaving Scorpius’s. He should have known that he couldn’t hide from Scorpius, he knew him too well, and he cared too much. But he couldn’t tell him, he couldn’t risk losing Scorpius forever. He couldn’t risk everything on the off chance he could gain everything.

“Albus, please,” said Scorpius, softly. “Please, talk to me.”

Albus clenched his fists and bit his lip, the battle in his head reaching a frenzied finale.

“I want to help. Please let me in.”

He let out a long, shuddering breath, unclenching his fists and closing his eyes. Making the decision lifted a weight off his shoulders that he didn’t know he had been carrying. He had to tell Scorpius, had to end this, one way or another. This way, he would either win everything, or he would lose everything. The alternative was a guaranteed loss in every case, and therefore wasn’t an alternative at all.

Making the decision was the easy part, which terrified Albus because it had been far from easy.

“Scorpius-” He cleared his throat and took several deep breaths. Scorpius nodded encouragingly, but he was unable to hide the growing concern visible on his face.

“Scorpius, I’m – I’m gay,” said Albus, quietly.

Scorpius’s initial reaction was one of minor surprise. The concern vanished to be replaced by a look of confusion, which quickly relaxed into an expression that could only be described as caring.

“Hey, it’s okay!” he said. “It’s completely fine, you don’t have to be worried or ashamed about being gay Albus. I promise you, it doesn’t change anything.”

Albus swallowed thickly, the relief from Scorpius’s acceptance doing little to relieve the terror he felt when contemplating what he had to do next.

“There’s something else,” he said, his voice low. “And it might change things.”

“Albus, whatever you tell me won’t change the fact that you’re my best friend. Nothingyou do can change the fact that I would suffer Voldemort Day a thousand times over if it meant keeping you safe and happy.”

He nodded, more to himself than to Scorpius, and took three more deep breaths, trying to slow his heartbeat to a reasonable pace.

“There’s someone I like. Someone I love, a lot.”

“Oh,” said Scorpius, looking down for the first time since their conversation had started. “Okay, can you tell me who? Have they hurt you?”

“He’s the nicest, most caring person I’ve ever met. He’s also the bravest, loyalest, and most kind-hearted person in the world. He also happens to be my best friend, who’s sitting in front of me right now, proving everything I just said about him to be true.”

He’d done it. It had been said. It was all over now. All he had to do now was sit there and wait for his sentence to fall.

Scorpius, for the first time in his life, seemed unable to form words. He simply sat there, looking at Albus, his expression unreadable. Then, “I’m so sorry.”

Albus closed his eyes, knowing what Scorpius would say next. That he couldn’t return Albus’s feelings, that he would never be able to look at him the same way ever again.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, and I’m so sorry I never told you that I feel the same way.”

The hurriedly thought up excuses to leave the room died on Albus’s lips. He opened his eyes, hardly daring to believe what he had heard.

“Say- say that again, please?” he stammered.

“I’ve felt the same way about you for months, but I never thought it was possible that you were like me. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“But Rose – Georgia…”

“I – I think I’m bisexual, Albus. I like both. I thought I’d never be able to be with you in that way, so I forced myself to try and move on. I never really got the hang of it though. I cancelled my date with Georgia last night, it just felt wrong, the idea of going with her. All I could think about was you, and how you had been acting since I told you about her, and I think it showed because she kept saying how I wasn’t paying any attention to her. Girls are confusing, other boys are confusing, but I’ve always known you.”

Albus sat there, dumbfounded. The hard concrete in his stomach began to liquefy, and was gradually being replaced by something that felt like sunlight.

“Albus? Can I hug you?” asked Scorpius, tentatively.

Albus nodded, a glorious happiness spreading through his body, still in shock at the recent turn of events. He and Scorpius stood up, and Albus held out his arms, as if he were waiting for his owl companions to come and perch on them. Instead, he got Scorpius, and it was the best feeling in the world.

It was similar to their previous hugs, but it was also very different. It was packed with so much emotion that Albus couldn’t help his face splitting into the biggest smile he had had in a long time. He pulled back slightly and noticed that Scorpius was mirroring his joy.

Albus laughed in relief and happiness. “Telling you those things was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I feel like I’ve just run up every tower in Hogwarts, then swum around the lake three times!” he said, grinning up at Scorpius.

“You look so much better,” Scorpius said in response. “Like you’ve just shed a load of worries the size of a Ukrainian Ironbelly.”

“Ifeel so much better,” said Albus softly, relaxing in Scorpius’s embrace.

“Albus?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you say if I asked you to come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow, for Valentine’s Day?”

Albus gave a small hop and squeezed Scorpius’s middle, grinning up at him again. “I think I’d say YES! Although hopefully in a more refined manner.”

Scorpius laughed. “Albus Potter, you can be as unrefined as you like, as long as you promise to be yourself, and stop hiding things from your boyfriend.”

Albus swayed slightly, desperately trying to take in and process the events of the last fifteen minutes. Eventually he decided not to worry about it right now, he would have plenty of time later.

“Are we boyfriends now?” he asked, wanting to be absolutely clear.

“If you want to be,” replied Scorpius.

“Then it’s a deal,” he said back. “As long as you promise not to keep secrets from yourboyfriend.”

“Done,” Scorpius sang, pulling Albus back into a tight hug, and Albus knew that the day he had been dreading for the past six days couldn’t come fast enough.

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cg_dRAmSzvA

Fri, 17 Feb 2017 18:00:56

By@abradystrix

[Angst]

Una Mattina - Ludovico Einaudi

Instrumental

Sufjan Stevens - For The Widows In Paradise, For The Fathers in Ypsilanti

Like a father to impress
Like a mother’s morning dress
If we ever make a mess
I’ll do anything for you

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=59BRCOiQVKI

Imogen Heap - Half Life

I knew that I’d get like this again
That’s why I try to keep at bay
Be a hundred percent when I’m with you and then
A perfect heart’s length away

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N7O69oEOmuk

[Thoughtful]

Gabe Dixon Band - All Will Be Well

All will be well,
You can ask me how
But only time will tell.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2-3ooX_XkQ

Miss E - Hummingbird

People don’t sing about days that didn’t happen and…
People don’t cry for tears that weren’t shed
Time doesn’t stop when you close your eyes, and our…
Big ol’ clock will keep on ticking till it dies

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HNSL8OseCBI

Iron and Wine - Time After Time [Cover]

If you’re lost you can look and you will find me, time after time.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yKwYaq5Kf4

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Into My Arms

But I believe in love
And I know that you do too
And I believe in some kind of path
That we can walk down, me and you

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LnHoqHscTKE

Yuna - Tourist

Oh no I’ve said too much
Got both feet in
My dear you fear too much
Just keep breathing

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikKbeXNKMOU

[Upbeat]

Patrick Wolf - Magic Position

So let the people talk
This Monday morning walk
Right past the fabulous mess we’re in
It’s gonna be a beautiful day

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFI9s6INJPQ

Regina Spektor - Us

They’ll name a city after us
And later say it’s all our fault
Then they’ll give us a talking to
Then they’ll give us a talking to
Because they’ve got years of experience

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fczPlmz-Vug

Twin Forks - Cross My Mind

Got an old record in a beat up sleeve
That same sad song that you sang to me
Back when you couldn’t say it for yourself.
Look, I’d be lying if I said to you
That I know exactly what I should do
But I’ve set my whole heart on trying.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ibtmDGykLLg

The Score - Oh My Love

We’ll shape this world like it was meant to be
Made of clay for only you and me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IXTg7owzmYo

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #scorbus playlist #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Fri, 17 Feb 2017 13:02:34

By@torestoreamends

13.7k words, G rated

Astoria Greengrass hates Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater, and all round prejudiced asshole. It takes a year for her to change her mind, and another year to fall head-over-heels in love with him. This is the story of how it happens.

I had the idea for this fic a while ago. I thought wouldn’t it be cool if Daphne introduces Astoria and Draco at a party, and wouldn’t it be even cooler if she starts off hating him, while he’s besotted with her from the first moment. It’s taken me a while to get round to writing it, but here we are! I will admit, as Astoria fell in love with Draco, I fell in love with the two of them as a couple. I think they’re wonderful, and I hope some of you will agree.

Massive thanks to @abradystrix for betaing this, and thanks to @platinasi for flailing with me and being generally supportive while I wrote it. You’re both superb human beings.

Astoria reaches out and grabs her sister by the arm, plucking her out of the crowd.

“Daphne, what is he doing here?”

Daphne tucks herself in beside Astoria, and peers around. “Who?”

Astoria tuts and nods in the direction of the tall, blond young man who’s just walked through the door. Draco Malfoy is the only person in the room wearing head-to-toe black. Robes, with formal suit trousers that make him look like he’s just left work and hasn’t had time to change into something more comfortable, although Astoria knows he doesn’t really have a job. He looks around at the party like it’s something dangerous and odd, and he has no idea what to do with it.

Astoria folds her arms and slumps back against the wall, glaring at him.

“Oh,” Daphne says, smiling. “Him.”

Astoria elbows her. “Stop that. Why is he here? You can’t have invited him. You’re not that stupid.” She shoots her sister a significant look.

Daphne gives a quiet sigh. “Why can’t I have invited him?” She looks at Astoria. “He was in my year at school. He’s not that bad-”

“Not that bad?” Astoria asks, voice rising with hysterical incredulity. It cuts across the noise of the party, and several people nearby look round at her, curious to see what all the noise is about. She gives them a forced smile and lowers her voice, leaning closer to Daphne.

“Not that bad these days,” Daphne clarifies, holding a hand up to stop her. “I know what you’re going to-”

“He’s a Death Eater,” Astoria hisses, glancing over her shoulder at Draco, who is now moving through the crowd. It parts before him like a wave, and as it closes behind him ripples of heads turn to follow his progress.

“Heused to be a Death Eater,” Daphne corrects. “He’s changed. It’s been years.”

“Two years isn’t that long,” Astoria says, looking round again to glare in Draco’s direction. “I don’t want him here.”

“You don’t have to want him here,” Daphne says, pushing off the wall. “It’s my birthday party. I invited him. And now I’m going to say hello. Do you want to come and be civil?”

Astoria folds her arms more tightly. “Not really. I suppose I’m not allowed to duel him, am I?”

Daphne grins. “You could. But you’d have to go outside. Mum would kill you if you started a fight in here. You know she just redecorated.”

Astoria rolls her eyes. “It’s too hot outside.”

“Then come and debate with him instead.” Daphne holds a hand out, and Astoria eyes her.

“You can’t debate with Death Eaters.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” Daphne says, holding her hand out more insistently. “Come on. I know you’re bored. Just… don’t scare him too much.”

Astoria groans, but takes her sister’s hand, and allows herself to be dragged through the crowd in Draco’s direction. Daphne bounds up to him, the sequins on her dress glittering in the light, a beaming smile on her face.

“Good evening, Malfoy. I thought you weren’t going to come.”

Draco turns to face her, champagne flute in one hand. “I didn’t think I would,” he says, in the sort of bored voice that implies he owns the universe. “But my parents were being so unbearable I needed to escape the house for a bit.” He raises his glass to Daphne. “Many happy returns to you.”

She gives a little bobbing curtsy and gestures in Astoria’s direction. “Thank you very much. Malfoy, have you met my little sister Astoria?”

Draco looks at Astoria. His eyes are grey, like sheets of ice, or shards of slate. Cold and sharp, and, in her opinion, so uninteresting they’re hardly worth looking at.

“Astoria,” he says. “That’s a nice name.” He holds a hand out to her, but she ignores it.

“It’s from the Greek myths,” she says, injecting as much frost into her tone as she can manage. Daphne struggles to restrain a smile.

Draco looks at Astoria with genuine curiosity. “Of course. That’s traditional for your family, isn’t it? I was looking at your family tree the other day and-”

“Is that something you do a lot?” Astoria asks, cutting him off. “Reading family trees? I bet you have the whole Sacred 28 memorised, don’t you. So you can make sure you never have to interact with anyone who isn’t perfectly pure-blooded.” She spits the last word at him, and he blinks, but that’s all he gives away.

“Actually,” he says coolly, “I found it in one of my father’s books while I was tidying his study.” He glances at Daphne. “You can’t move in there for cursed books and dark objects. I might have a few items for you in the next couple of days, if I can sneak them away. I swear he’s been counting them all. I can’t touch anything these days without him throwing a tantrum.” He gives a bitter little sigh.

Daphne gives him a sympathetic smile. “Well, we’d be grateful for anything you can get us. But,” she laughs, “it’s my birthday. I’m not supposed to be talking about work.”

“Of course not,” Draco says. “My sincerest apologies.” There’s a little sparkle of humour in his eyes, and Astoria pulls a face and looks away. She didn’t come here to watch her sister flirt with Draco Malfoy. “Are you having a good day?” Draco asks Daphne.

Daphne shrugs and her shoulders glitter in the enchanted light flooding the room. “It could have been worse. Twenty doesn’t feel much different to nineteen, to be honest. I’ve mostly been running round trying to organise things. There really wouldn’t have been a party without Astoria. She’s indispensable.” Daphne nudges Astoria on the arm, and Astoria looks round at her.

“That wasn’t what you told me earlier,” Astoria says. “When you were telling me off for putting too many lights everywhere.”

Daphne wraps an arm round her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. “I’ve since seen the error of my ways.”

“I think the lights are rather beautiful,” Draco says, glancing around at the room, at the hundreds of floating lights that make the space sparkle and shine. “You’ve done an excellent job.” He looks at Astoria and smiles.

Daphne’s expression twists into a barely restrained smirk, and she pats Astoria on the shoulder. “Yes she has. Oh! I’ve just spotted Vaisey on the other room. Astoria, you’ll entertain Draco for me, won’t you? Nice to have you here Draco. Talk to you later.” And then she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd in a glittering whirl.

“Daphne!” Astoria calls after her, but she doesn’t look back, and Astoria finds herself stranded, alone, with Draco Malfoy. She folds her arms and puts on her best icy smile. Draco doesn’t notice it. He’s fiddling with his champagne flute, long fingers tapping against the delicate crystal.

“So,” Astoria says. “What are you doing these days, Malfoy?” She says his name like it’s something dirty, which to her it is.

He looks up at her. “This and that,” he says. “A little alchemical research. Mostly I’ve been helping get the Manor back in some sort of inhabitable state.”

“Gosh,” Astoria says drily. “That must be such a hardship. I’m sorry Voldemort was such a destructive house guest.”

Draco blinks at her for a second, then looks down at his champagne. “What about you? You must have left Hogwarts by now.”

“I work at the Ministry,” Astoria says. “In the Muggle Liaison Office, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Do you really?” He asks. His tone is polite, but the faintest sneer crosses his face, like he can’t quite help himself.

Astoria pounces. She lifts her chin and looks at him. “And what’s wrong with that?”

Draco shrugs. “Nothing at all. You’re just so…”

“So?”

The sneer becomes almost a smirk. “I thought it was just idiots like Arthur Weasley who work with Muggles.”

Astoria narrows her eyes. “Can you negotiate two complex and often opposing legal systems, Malfoy? Presumably not. I bet you wouldn’t know a Muggle law if it bit you on the ass.”

Draco looks at her, and his smirk doesn’t fade an inch, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Exactly,” Astoria snaps. “Watch who you’re calling an idiot.” She steps in very close to him. “I know you’re keeping the Ministry happy by supplying my sister with dark artefacts from that hellhole of a house you live in, but I’ve got my eye on you Malfoy. One day you’re going to slip, and when you do I’ll be ready, and you’ll find out exactly how much you don’t know about Muggle laws. Or magical ones.” She gives him a long, cold look, then stalks away. As she retreats she can feel his eyes on her, but she ignores him. He’s beneath her notice.

—

Astoria stomps through the library with a stack of books tucked under her arm. Loose strands of hair fall into her eyes, and she blows them impatiently out of the way. Her stomach rumbles as she rushes up the stairs out of the law department. This was supposed to be her lunchtime, but her boss doesn’t believe in breaks, apparently.

For some reason she’s never understood, the books covering Muggle law are kept separate to the magical legal tomes. They’re tucked away in the Muggle Studies section right at the back of the library, which more than doubles the amount of time and effort trips down here take.

She runs through the stacks, counting the shelves, twisting and turning down the familiar path. One of the regulars in the Charms section, a wizened, elderly man, tips his deep purple hat to her as she passes, and she smiles at him. Her robes slip from one of her shoulders as she does, revealing the blouse underneath, and she shrugs them back on and keeps running. Past Transfiguration and Potions and Magical Beasts, down a flight of stairs into Alchemy.

Some of the books are sliding from her grip, and she contorts herself to try and keep hold of them as she runs, but eventually one slips and falls onto the carpet.

“Salazar,” she mutters, hopping to a halt and turning back. “I don’t have time for you to be so-” She reaches for the book, but someone else gets there first.

“Here,” Draco Malfoy says, picking up the book and handing it to her.

Astoria stares at him for a second. “What are you doing here?”

He looks around. “Here? It’s a public library. I’m looking at books. What are you doing here?”

“Working. I don’t have time to talk to you, Malfoy.” She takes her book from him, and gathers the whole stack against her chest. As she struggles to her feet a couple more slip onto the floor. Draco picks them up.

“Would you like some help?” He asks. “I don’t know why you don’t just levitate them.”

Astoria tuts. “I’m about to walk down a Muggle street. I can’t ‘just levitate them’. Would you put those on top?” She nods to the teetering stack that comes to just below her chin.

“I could conjure you a bag,” he offers, setting the two books carefully onto the pile.

Astoria clamps them beneath her chin and sets off walking. “I don’t need your help.”

She expects to leave Draco behind as she heads for the Muggle Studies section. There’s no way Draco would be caught dead in there, and he’s probably only in the library for the Alchemy books. But to her surprise and annoyance, he stays by her side as she moves through the shelves, wand drawn, ready to catch her books if she drops them.

“Are you following me?” She snaps, shooting him a hard look.

“No,” he says. “I’m walking in this direction.”

“These are the Muggle books,” she reminds him.

Draco’s cheeks flush with a faint pink tinge, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I know which section I’m in. I’m not an idiot.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in this sort of thing, Malfoy.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Draco says. He gives Astoria a long look, seems to consider saying something, then decides against it. Instead, he waves his wand and summons a sturdy canvas bag, which he drapes over the top of Astoria’s books. “That’s in case you decide to stop being stubborn,” he says, and then he turns and walks away among the shelves.

Astoria watches him go for a moment, then she shakes her head and marches off to get the rest of her books. She tries her hardest to carry them all without the bag, but she just can’t hold them all, and they’re making her wrists and shoulders ache even worse than they usually do. Using Draco’s bag would be tantamount to admitting defeat, but she can’t deny it would be sensible. Of course she could summon her own bag and use that, but that would be petty to the point of stupidity. Plus, as good as she is at Conjuration, she isn’t entirely sure she could make something quite so sturdy. Draco has done a good job…

With a growl she starts shoving her books into the bag. At least he won’t see her using it. He’s probably long gone by now. Still, she checks the coast is clear before sneaking out towards the front desk. There’s no one around that she can see.

She keeps her head down as she moves back through the library. Occasionally people in here recognise her and want to chat, but she doesn’t have time for that today. There’s a hearing in a couple of hours and they need these books.

When she reaches the front desk there’s already someone there. Draco is leaning against the counter and chatting to the librarian while she stamps out his books.

“If there are any more you could recommend,” he says, “I’d certainly be interested. That other book was fascinating.”

“Of course, dear,” the librarian replies, giving him a warm smile. “There are plenty more where these came from. Research has exploded since the war.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and pushes his books across the counter to him.

“I’m sure it has,” he says, taking his books and looking down at them. “Have a good afternoon.”

“You too, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco turns from the counter, still studying his books, and he walks right into Astoria.

“Ouch,” she says, lifting her foot off the ground and rubbing it where he’s just stood on it.

“Astoria,” he says, eyes widening as he recognises her. “I’m sorry. Are you-”

“Fine. Completely fine.” She brushes him off, but as she’s about to move past him she recognises one of the books he’s carrying. “Is that-?” she asks, pointing at it.

Draco puts it behind his back. “It’s an Alchemy book,” he lies, without even a flicker of hesitation.

Astoria grins. “You’ve got a Muggle law book. I thought they were for idiots.”

Draco’s expression twists and tightens, and he seems to struggle with himself for a moment. Finally he draws himself up to his full height, which is quite impressive, especially accentuated by the robes, and the long legs, clad today in tight grey trousers. “You’re using my bag,” he says. “I thought you didn’t want my help?”

Astoria’s cheeks heat, and she narrows her eyes at him. “It seemed like a sensible option.”

Draco hugs his books to his chest. “A knowledge of Muggle law seemed like a sensible option too.”

For a moment they look at each other, and Astoria tries to work out what’s going on behind his unreadable, perfectly schooled expression. Then she shakes her head and brushes past him. Draco glances at her as she goes.

“Have a nice afternoon, Astoria.”

She pauses in getting the books out of the bag for the librarian to stamp, and looks up at him. “Yes,” she says, because she doesn’t really know what else to say.

—

Astoria ducks as a flock of interdepartmental memos shoot over her head like arrows. She follows them out of the lift onto Level Two, shuffling through the papers in her hand and not really looking where she’s going. This building is a maze, but she’s learned it so well in the last few months, that her feet just take her where she needs to go. Anyway, the corridors aren’t busy at the moment. Most people have gone home by this time on a Friday evening.

She’s so preoccupied with her papers that she doesn’t realise she has company until Daphne taps her on the arm. “Astoria!“

She looks up at her sister’s sing-song voice. "Daphne. I thought you would have left already."

Daphne smiles and winds her scarf round her neck. "I’m on my way out now. Are you going to make it for dinner? I should warn Mum if you’re going to be late.”

Astoria looks back down at her papers. “I might be a bit… Tell her half an hour."

Daphne nods. "An hour it is then."

"Am I that bad?” Astoria glances up, running a hand through her hair.

“Yes,” Daphne grins, “you are. What is it this time? Another one of those stupid Muggle Suppressionist gangs?”

Astoria shakes her head. “Do you remember how we had that campaign to try and find Selwyn? A Muggle Police Officer found him and tried to arrest him. She… she didn’t come out of it very well."

Daphne blanches and puts a hand on Astoria’s shoulder. "I’ll tell Mum you’ll be late. I’ll make sure we save something for you."

Astoria smiles weakly. "Thanks. I should get back…”

“Please actually finish your work this time,” Daphne calls, walking backwards down the corridor so she can keep looking at her sister. “I know you. You’ll spend all weekend thinking about it and you’ll be a total misery."

Astoria nods. "I will. See you in a bit."

Behind them the lift pings, ready to move again. Daphne sprints to it and puts her foot in to stop the doors closing. "You’re probably not interested,” she says, turning back once more. “But Draco Malfoy is round the corner.”

Astoria’s head snaps up. “What?"

"I know,” Daphne says, grinning. “See you Astoria.” And she disappears into the lift, the golden doors sliding shut on her.

Astoria watches her go, then she shakes her head and looks back at her papers. Why does it matter if Draco is here or not? The Malfoys are always snooping around at the Ministry. It’s hardly big news.

She wanders on down the corridor, but pokes her head out before rounding the next corner. As much as it doesn’t matter whether Malfoy is here or not, she’s not keen to run into him. She has far too much work to do for that.

He’s there in the corridor, because of course he is. All slicked-back blond hair, high-collared black robes, and sharp, handsome features. Wait, handsome?

Astoria pulls back and flattens herself against the wall. Draco Malfoy is not handsome. Loathsome more like. He’s pale and angular and haughty, and- She pokes her head back round the corner. Okay, maybe he is a little bit handsome. In a repulsive sort of way.

At the moment he’s standing there talking to a very harassed looking Harry Potter. Harry’s glasses are askew, and his hair has the stressed, wild look it gets when he’s been in meetings all day. It seems as though Draco has cornered him. He keeps glancing at his watch, and he’s slowly inching his way along the wall, making an apparent bid for freedom, while Draco keeps up an insistent monologue.

Astoria decides to rescue Harry. She needs a word with him anyway, and no one deserves to be trapped in a conversation with Draco Malfoy, especially not the saviour of the Wizarding World. She pats her hair to neaten it up, smooths a crease out of her skirt, then draws herself up straight and marches round the corner.

“Harry,” she says, trying to sound like she’s surprised and relieved to see him. “I was hoping to run into you."

Both Harry and Draco turn to look at her. Harry adjusts his glasses. Draco’s expression melts from a frown into a warm smile, which thaws the ice in his eyes.

"Good evening, Astoria,” he says.

“Hello,” Astoria replies, as coolly as she can when he’s smiling at her like that. Now that she’s noticed it, he really is quite handsome. She has to swallow hard to find her voice again, and does her best to avoid looking at Draco again. “Harry, do you have a second to talk about the Selwyn case?"

Harry sighs and checks his watch. "Yes, I think so. But it’ll have to be quick. Ginny threatened me with the Bat Bogey Hex if I’m late for dinner again."

Astoria smiles. "We can walk and talk.” She gestures down the corridor in the direction of their offices.

Harry nods and glances back at Draco. “Send me all that stuff in an Owl and I’ll see what I can do, okay?"

Draco inclines his head. "Anything you like, Potter.” He looks at Astoria. “I hope I’ll see you soon."

Astoria resists the urge to reply ‘I wouldn’t count on it’, and instead shrugs. "Perhaps.”

His smile widens an inch, and his eyes sparkle like diamonds as he turns away. Astoria shakes her head and tries to remember what she wanted to talk to Harry about. Draco’s face has wiped all sensible thought from her brain.

They’re halfway down the hall to the Auror cubicles when Harry prompts her. “Selwyn,” he says. “You wanted to talk to him.”

“Yes! Of course.” She pulls out one of the papers from her stack. “I got your memo with the testimony; it’s perfect, thank you. I just wanted to ask though, do you happen to have a transcript of the message that went out on the Muggle news? I leant mine to Boot and he hasn’t given it back yet.”

Harry rubs his forehead and nods distractedly. “Yeah, yeah I might. I’ll have a look."

"Great. And did you know about the discrepancy with-”

“The Obliviator’s report,” Harry groans. “It’s all I’ve heard about all day. Don’t worry. We’re working on it."

"Of course,” Astoria says. She checks the page again and shakes her head. “I think that’s it.” She hugs the papers to her chest and looks at Harry. When she speaks she tries to keep her voice light and casual. “What, um… what did Malfoy want?”

“Malfoy? Oh,” Harry runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “There’s a case he’s sort of helping with. And generally he has a lot of opinions. Too many opinions. I wish he’d just send Owls, but…” he waves a hand back in the direction of where they’d last seen Draco. “I think he likes to be seen.”

“The Malfoys have always skulked around here,” Astoria says. “I’m sorry he was bothering you."

"I don’t mind,” Harry says. “At least he’s occasionally useful.” They arrive at his desk, which is a chaotic mess of parchment and files. He starts sifting through the detritus, and eventually comes up with a slightly coffee-stained file. He pulls out a couple of pages, scans them, and finally hands one to Astoria. “Is this what you’re after?"

She looks down at it and nods. "That’s perfect.” She draws her wand and replicates the transcript. “I knew Malfoy was helping the artefacts team, but I didn’t know he was on board with the Aurors too.”

Harry makes a fruitless attempt to shuffle the files on his desk into some sort of order, but he quickly gives up. “He knows people. Connections get you everywhere in a case, and he seems willing to help, so…” He gives a one-shouldered shrug and starts pulling his travelling cloak on. “Listen, I’ve got to run. If you need anything else send me…” he trails off as he looks at the disaster that is his in-tray. “Don’t send me a memo. Run down and see me or something. You’ll figure it out."

Astoria smiles and lays the file back on top of Harry’s mountains of paperwork. "I will. Have a good weekend, Harry."

She takes the transcript back to her desk, where she flops down with a heavy sigh and kicks her shoes off, rubbing her feet. She flips open her case file and starts reading her notes, while she massages her toes. As an afterthought she waves her wand at one of the Muggle Biros in her pen pot, which poises itself on a bit of blank parchment, ready to take notes.

She gets through a couple of paragraphs before her thoughts start to stray. She trails off mid-sentence in her dictation, and her enchanted Biro grinds to a messy halt.

It makes sense for Malfoy to be hanging around the Ministry, chatting up whoever’s in power. That’s what the Malfoys have done for centuries. But the idea of him helping out for any good reason, because he’s changed, is laughable. This, making friends with the right people and being seen in the right places, is just how he works.

But then again… Everyone at Hogwarts knew about him and Harry, how they hated each other. It’s amazing to see them talking, let alone working together. And he was reading that Muggle law book when she saw him a couple of months ago. It didn’t seem like the first one he’d read either. And that wasn’t for show, he tried to hide it, tried to lie about it.

Is Draco Malfoy changing? Is that even possible? Can Death Eaters change? Maybe this is just another Malfoy game, a way of slithering out of trouble yet again, because Death Eaters don’t change, they don’t feel remorse or try to get better, do they?

The image of Draco’s smiling face, eyes sparkling as he’d looked at her, swims unbidden to the front of her mind and she buries her face in her hands with a growl. She runs her fingers through her hair and tries not to think about him, but it’s impossible. He’s a curiosity, an attractive curiosity, and it’s almost as though he’s following her, popping up all over the place, sticking in her head and making her think. She doesn’t want to think, not about him, but apparently her stupid brain has other ideas.

Opening her eyes, she stares blankly down at her file, and shakes her head. She’s not getting anymore work done tonight, not now, not thanks to him. These papers will have to wait until Monday, when hopefully all thoughts of Draco Malfoy will be driven deep into the dustbin of her mind where they belong, by a weekend of Daphne’s sensible advice and their mother’s incessant gossip.

With one last forlorn glance at all the work she isn’t going to do, she tucks the papers back into their file, and places it on top of her neat ‘to do’ pile. She slides her feet back into her shoes, winds her scarf round her neck, and pulls her coat on, before rushing away. As she leaves she vows to spend the entire evening moaning to Daphne about how Draco Malfoy is ruining her life, and society in general.

—

Astoria sits cross-legged on the office floor, shoes abandoned by the door, surrounded by a mess of parchment. The department has been bombarded with Owls this morning, as the Ministry has just announced its new pro-Muggle legislation. The piles of parchment scattered across the office floor are the hundreds of responses that have already poured in from all around the country, and Astoria is the one who’s ended up having to sort through them all.

Most of the letters are boring and generic, or have been sent by regular correspondents, who like to have their say on everything the Ministry does, from mundane regulations on cauldron thickness, all the way up to dramatic Auror raids on the few Death Eaters still at large. A couple are more interesting.

There’s a lengthy and emotional letter from one of the St Oswald’s residents, detailing the story of her mother, a Muggleborn witch who’d fought in the wars against both Grindelwald and Voldemort. Another comes from a Hogwarts fourth year, a Slytherin, who is pleased to hear that Muggle Studies will be made a compulsory subject for all students. Now and then, the odd letter just spews abuse, and Astoria narrowly avoids a curse contained in one envelope, but most are at least interesting and well reasoned, even when she disagrees with them.

She tosses a thick sheaf of parchment onto the pro pile, containing a letter and signatures from one of the most vocal Muggle support groups. It’s not at all surprising to find them among the wave of correspondents. They’ve been consulted about the legislation multiple times already, and are fully in favour of it.

She smiles fondly at the familiar set of names as she picks the next letter off the pile. This one is a lot thinner, and when she flips it over to break the seal, she realises she recognises the crest. It’s the Malfoy coat of arms, accompanied by a small scattering of stars that Astoria recognises as Draco’s constellation.

She stares down at it for a moment, taking in the delicate pattern stamped onto the green wax. Her fingers shakes ever so slightly, and she swallows hard. She turns the envelope over and over in her hands, but she can’t bring herself to open it. There could be anything inside. She has no idea what to expect of Draco anymore. Presumably this is the sort of thing he would oppose?

His handwriting on the front of the envelope is very neat. Small and precise, apart from the expansive flourishes on his descenders, which seem to take up all the space left by their less flamboyant neighbours. She reads the address three times before, heart pounding, she decides she should just get on with reading the letter. She isn’t meant to care this much. It’s her job to read the letters, sort them, and hand them over, not to sit here and panic about what one of them might contain.

"Pull yourself together,” she mutters to herself, and she slits open the seal.

Inside the envelope is a single sheet of parchment, with a short letter written on it in the same neat handwriting.

To whom it may concern,

I am writing to express my support for the newly proposed Muggle Protection and Education Act.

Although I cannot offer my wholehearted agreement with every aspect of the legislation, I believe this to be a largely well-written, well considered, and necessary new law. I hope it will benefit and strengthen both Wizarding and Muggle society, and I would urge Wizengamot members to vote in favour of accepting it.

Yours most sincerely,

Astoria reads the letter through several times. With each reading she relaxes a little more, her heart rate slows, and she feels as though she can start to breathe again.

Draco supports the legislation. Not completely, but he does support it. Enough to have bothered to write a letter and send it in. It’s a wonderful revelation. It shows that he might not be too awful after all, that he might deserve a chance…

She reads the letter one final time, taking in more of the handwriting. She especially enjoys the way he writes the D of his initials; a broad, bold, sweeping curve, which leads to the spiky M.

He hasn’t written out his full name, she realises. If you didn’t recognise the seal or the handwriting, there’d be no way of knowing that this letter came from Draco Malfoy. Perhaps that was deliberate, although Astoria doesn’t really understand why. Isn’t it the Malfoy way to show off about this sort of thing? Political opinions and beliefs? Especially when they favour the current government?

She frowns down at the signature, trying to figure it out, but she can’t. She doesn’t understand Draco. She’d thought she did, she’d thought he was simple: a selfish, prejudiced man whose blood status matters more to him than anything else. But apparently not. At least not entirely. Draco Malfoy is an enigma. And Astoria has always quite enjoyed solving puzzles.

She sets the letter aside, not on any of the piles for the moment, just to one side where she can see it out of the corner of her eye. Then she gets on with reading through the rest of the letters. Draco’s is the last one she files away, and even once she’s handed over all the correspondence and moved onto other jobs, that letter doesn’t leave her thoughts for the rest of the day.

—

Later that evening, Astoria swirls out of the darkness with a flourish of her cloak, and twists her ankle as her heel catches in the crack between two paving slabs. She swears and hops on one foot for a moment, glaring down at the path. The heel of her new shoes isn’t broken, thank goodness, but she hits it with a Reparo just to make sure, then hobbles off up the path to her sister’s house.

She knocks loudly and stands back to wait. It only takes a second before the door swings open of its own accord and she steps inside, kicking her shoes off before she ventures down the hall.

The house is quiet. When she calls Daphne’s name it echoes along the corridor and up the stairs. All the lights are on, but there’s no sign of Daphne anywhere. Normally that just means she’s hidden away in the study at the back, working late, or on a Fire Call with someone.

Astoria wanders deeper into the house. There’s a stack of post on a sideboard that she neatens up, and a copy of Witch Weekly that she briefly flicks through before pulling a face and dropping it onto the coffee table. Her sister has horrible taste in magazines.

She goes into the kitchen, and she’s just drawn her wand to start making tea when the door to Daphne’s office opens and two people walk out. Daphne, accompanied by none other than Draco Malfoy. The mug Astoria had been levitating out of the cupboard smashes as she forgets what she’s doing and stares at him, the letter flying to the front of her mind once more.

With a sweep of his wand, Draco repairs the mug, picks it up, and strides across the kitchen to hand it to her. “I believe you dropped this.”

Astoria feels as though her face is on fire. She takes the mug, fingers brushing Draco’s for a moment, which only makes her heart beat faster. “Y-yes,” she stutters. “Yes. Thank you.” She turns away from him and puts the mug safely back on the side where it can’t be broken again. She takes a moment to lean against the side and compose herself before turning back and pushing a smile onto her face.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Draco. Are you bothering my sister?"

"Not bothering, I hope.” Draco glances at Daphne. “I had some items to deliver, and I happened to be passing by."

Daphne smiles. "Never bothering, Draco. Would you two excuse me just a second? I need to grab something from upstairs.” She flashes Astoria a grin as she passes, and Astoria tries a silent appeal for help, which Daphne ignores. She disappears out into the hall, leaving Astoria and Draco alone together.

Astoria looks down at her feet and fiddles with the buttons on the cuffs of her jacket. Draco shuffles his feet and tucks a strand of hair off his face. He seems to be growing it out, and it frames his face in soft, curling little wisps.

“I managed to procure a few of my father’s more dangerous but less valuable items,” Draco explains after a moment of awkward silence. “I’d rather turn them in than have our house raided again. I’m not sure he’s in a healthy enough state for… you know. He’s easily upset.” He trails off and bows his head, looking down at his fingers as they run along the edge of the kitchen table.

Astoria takes a breath and tries to work out what she wants to say to him. “You sent a letter to the Ministry,” she blurts out after a moment. “You wrote a letter about the new Muggle Protection and Education Act. You didn’t sign it, but I read it, and I recognise your seal, and- and you supported it…” she runs out of steam and starts twisting her fingers together.

Draco opens his mouth, then closes it again. He frowns, and seems to struggle with himself for several long seconds. “The Malfoys have always been influential in politics,” he says. “I don’t know why you’re surprised that I’m interested in current affairs."

"But you weren’t…” Astoria looks up at him. “You weren’t opposing the legislation.”

“No,” Draco says bluntly, putting his hands in his pockets. “No. I wasn’t. But if it makes you feel better, my father and mother both are."

"You didn’t sign the letter,” Astoria says. “Why didn’t you sign it?"

"I didn’t realise I was required to sign every letter I write,” Draco says levelly, and Astoria recognises a bite of frost in his tone.

“You don’t,” she says hurriedly. “Of course not. I just thought…” She shakes her head. “I didn’t understand… I’m sorry.” She looks him right in the face. “I’m glad you support it. It proves… I don’t know. I’m just glad."

A satisfied smirk stretches across Draco’s face. "Astoria Greengrass approves of something I’ve done. This is a momentous occasion. I’ll have to remember this forever.”

“Yes,” Astoria replies, unable to keep herself from smiling. “You will, because it isn’t going to happen again any time soon.”

Draco laughs. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Astoria lifts her chin. “Perhaps it is.”

Draco grins. “Challenge accepted, then.” He gestures to the door. “I should probably go and get started right away. It seems I have a lot of hard work to do.” He gives Astoria a small, slightly ridiculous bow, and walks toward the door.

As he goes, Astoria is seized by a moment of madness. She steps forward and calls after him. “Draco?”

He turns back to look at her. “Yes?”

She swallows. “It’s my birthday in a couple of weeks. I’m having a party. Would you like to come?”

Draco blinks at her, then a smile spreads across his face and his eyes go soft like silver silk. “That would be nice, thank you. Owl me the details and I’m sure I can find room for it in my social calendar.”

“Your social calendar,” Astoria snorts.

“I’m very much in demand,” Draco says seriously.

“I’m sure,” Astoria grins.

“I am!” Draco protests, and when Astoria continues to grin at him, he shakes his head and turns away. “Have a nice evening, Astoria.” She can hear the smile in his voice as he says it, and when she follows him to the door and watches him retreat down the hall, she’s certain she doesn’t imagine the new spring in his step, as though he’s walking on air.

Astoria leans in the doorway and grins until the front door snaps shut. At that precise moment Daphne materialises on the stairs.

“Oh,” she says, a vision of innocence. “Has he gone?"

Astoria turns on her sister. "You abandoned me with him deliberately! You didn’t have to fetch anything, did you?"

Daphne skips down the stairs, smirking. "Are you not grateful?"

Astoria glares mutinously at her for a moment, then looks down at her hands. "I invited him to my party,” she mutters.

Daphne gives a shriek of delight and hugs her. “Did you ask him as your date?"

"No!” Astoria protests, pushing her sister away. “I don’t like him like that.”

“Mmhmm?” Daphne says, a smug grin on her face.

“I don’t!” Astoria says. Then, when Daphne doesn’t stop grinning she elbows her in the ribs. “I don’t… but I might need you to help me pick something to wear…”

“Okay!” Daphne chirps, and hugs her again.

—

The party is too noisy. Astoria has been bounced from conversation to conversation all evening. Her feet are aching, her head is aching, her ears are aching, and she feels faint from the heat. The one person she’s been excited and anxious to see all week is here, she’s seen him, but she hasn’t had chance to talk to him all night, and now she’s going to have to leave before she passes out.

She looks around one last time for Draco, but doesn’t spot him among the crowds, so she grabs a glass of water from a passing waiter and hurries out of the door into the cool hallway.

She sinks onto the stairs, sets the glass down beside her, and buries her face in her hands. Her circulation has always been terrible, so her hands are cold even though the rest of her is burning hot. They cool her down, to the point where she starts shivering. She hugs herself and curls up, wishing she’d worn a warmer dress. This one is beautiful, soft, and floaty, and enchanted to mimic the colour of the night sky - at the moment purple and pink at the top, with vivid red near the bottom, courtesy of the setting sun - but it isn’t warm, and now she’s sitting still, Astoria has never felt colder.

She folds herself up as small as she can and tucks her fingers under her arms as she leans against the bannister. She could try and get a cardigan or a coat or something, but her feet ache from the stupid shoes she’s wearing, shoes she’ll never get off because they’re so intricately strapped to her feet, and she isn’t sure she could climb the stairs anyway. Her legs feel weak, and she’s not just shaking from the cold. She knows the difference.

It’s been a long time since she was last really ill, in her third year at Hogwarts. She was alright one day, not well, but normal for her, but then she slowly deteriorated over a few days. It had been awful, she can still remember the pain and exhaustion, and she’s always been terrified of it happening again. Maybe this is it… She’s never been naive enough to believe it wouldn’t happen again at some point.

She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against the bannister. This would be a great time for Daphne to come and rescue her. Her sister normally has a sixth sense for this sort of thing. It’s probably only a matter of time before she-

The door opens. Astoria looks up in hope, but she’s disappointed to see that it isn’t her sister. It’s actually the very last person she wants to see when she’s in a state like this. Draco Malfoy, looking as handsome and well put together as always. He’s wearing an icy blue jacket today, over a pristine white shirt. His neatly slicked hair falls almost to his shoulders, and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the party. Astoria turns away from him and tries to make herself invisible. Unfortunately it doesn’t work.

“Astoria,” he says, and his voice is flooded with concern. “I saw you leave. Are you alright?"

She nods. "Fine,” she lies. “I’m fine. I just wanted some fresh air. You should go back inside."

"But you’re out here. If I wait for you inside you’ll be accosted by at least a hundred people, and I’ll never get a look in. We Malfoys believe in taking opportunities when they’re presented to us.” He strides across the room, shoes clicking on the stone floor, and sits on the step beside her. “You’re shivering,” he says softly. “Are you sure you’re okay?"

"It was too hot in there,” she murmurs. “But now I’m out here I’m cold…”

Without hesitation, Draco shrugs off his jacket and tries to wrap it round her shoulders. She does her best to push it away.

“No, don’t. I don’t want you to get cold too."

"I won’t,” Draco says confidently. “Besides, I’m wearing far more clothes than you are, and warmer ones. You need this far more than I do. Please. If I get cold I promise to steal it back. Does that make you happy?"

Astoria thinks for a moment, then she nods and lets him slide the jacket round her shoulders. She doesn’t regret it. His warmth folds around her and she immediately relaxes a bit. She hugs the jacket closed. Even though he’s thin, she’s always been tiny thanks to her illness, so she’s swamped in all the blue fabric.

Draco adjusts the collar of the jacket, and doesn’t remove his hand from her shoulder. "This is an excellent party, thank you for inviting me. I must say, your taste in music is exquisite."

Astoria smiles. "I didn’t choose the music. Daphne insisted on playing DJ for the night."

Draco frowns. "D… J?”

Astoria’s smile broadens and she glances up at him. “Muggles have them at parties, to look after the music.”

Draco nods. “Of course. Well, perhaps I should start borrowing Muggle dictionaries from the library next. Clearly I have a lot to learn."

"I’m sure I have one you could borrow,” she offers, shuffling closer to him on the step.

“That would certainly be enlightening,” he says. His hand slips sideways on her shoulder, until his arm is curled round her. She throws caution to the winds and leans against him. As she does, his hand brushes the bare skin on her shoulder and he screws his face up.

“Merlin, you’re freezing. How can a person be so cold?” He gathers her in closer and starts rubbing her shoulder to try and warm her up.

“I have poor circulation,” she informs him.

“If you get any colder you’re going to turn into an ice block. Here.” He draws his wand and waves it over her.

Warmth trickles slowly through every fibre of her being. It’s like being plunged into the most perfect bath. It creeps and curls from her head, down her spine, spreading into her fingers, sinking into her bones, making her heart sing. Her toes, which had been starting to go numb, revive, and already she feels considerably less ill. She rubs her hands together and smiles at Draco.

“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you."

"Do you feel better?” He asks.

“A lot."

"Then of course I had to do it,” he says, returning the smile.

Astoria puts her feet flat on the floor and flexes her toes. “I think… I might be able to go back inside in a minute. At least my head doesn’t hurt anymore.” She looks around for her glass of water and picks it up, draining it in one. “My feet do though.” She sighs and relaxes against Draco’s side.

“How can you move in those shoes?” He asks, looking down at them. “They’re just straps and stilettos. They can’t be comfortable."

"They’re not,” Astoria says, stretching her feet out in front of her. “But they look nice. They make melook nice."

Draco nods and looks at her. "I can agree with that."

She knows she’s blushing, but she can’t help it. She ducks her head and brushes a stray bit of hair out of her eyes, hoping he can’t see how red she’s gone. "Well…” She pushes herself unsteadily to her feet. “People are probably missing me inside.” She steps off the stairs and discovers she still feels a bit faint. The world spins, and she reaches for something to hold onto, except there isn’t anything. But then Draco stands up beside her and grips her arm, holding her steady.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit for a bit longer?"

She shakes her head. "No. But I might need to use you as a leaning post for a bit."

"I’m yours for as long as you want me,” Draco says.

He ends up staying by her side, holding her arm, for the rest of the night.

—

Two days after her birthday, Astoria is admitted to St Mungo’s. She’s been told for years that the older she gets the worse the curse will affect her, but she never wanted to believe it. Now, though, she has no choice. She’d thought her illness in third year had been bad, but this is far worse.

She’s so exhausted she sleeps almost constantly for a week. When she tries to move her whole body screams in agony. She bruises easily, and ends up looking a battered mess after just a short walk around her room. The one time she has the energy to try and read, she gets a paper cut that bleeds for hours.

Mostly she just feels sick, and shaky, and a small part of her thinks that if this is going to get worse with time, maybe it would be best to just give up now. She’s not even sure what could be worse than this, but she isn’t that keen to find out.

By the time she’s been in hospital for two weeks she’s starting to feel a bit better, and is also starting to get bored. Constant sleep sounds wonderful, but it gets a bit repetitive after a while. And there’s no one to talk to most of the time. Her mum and Daphne drop in and see her, Daphne is there every day for at least an hour or two, but they both have other things to do. Lives and jobs. Astoria has never wanted anyone else to stop living on her account, so she spends every weekday alone, at once wishing she had more to do and feeling too tired to do anything at all.

On Tuesday morning, two weeks after the party, Astoria is not asleep. She’s curled up in bed, buried under a mountain of blankets, and the room is dark. She’s supposed to be sleeping, but she’s aching all over and finding it hard to drift off. Her mind is wide awake too, which doesn’t help. It’s buzzing with boredom, urging her to occupy it with some form of entertainment, be it a book or a person or really anything at all.

She’s still struggling to sleep when there’s a quiet knock on the door. Curious, she lifts her head just high enough to see over the top of all the blankets, and peers through the gloom. She’s not expecting any visitors, Daphne’s at work, and her Healer only left twenty minutes ago.

“Come in,” she says, rubbing her eyes. For a moment she thinks whoever is outside can’t have heard her. Her voice is weak and hoarse at the moment, and she can’t project. She certainly can’t get out of bed to let anyone in. Maybe they’ll just stay standing out there until they get bored and leave.

But then the door opens, and standing silhouetted against the light from the corridor is Draco. He hesitates on the threshold, looking torn between coming in or running away. “Is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to wake you…"

Astoria shakes her head and struggles to claw herself upright, so she’s propped against her pillows. Her joints and head protest, and it takes several seconds, but finally she’s sitting up, and she hopes she looks at least a little bit dignified. "No,” she says, picking up her wand and directing it at the bedside lamp, which flickers into life. “Please come in."

Draco steps inside, closing the door behind him, and hovers around by the foot of the bed. He looks like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, uncomfortable and uncertain. He’s still wearing his coat and gloves. "I heard you were…” he trails off, gesturing to the bed. “Are you recovering?"

"No,” Astoria says, a sharp bitterness in her voice. She runs her fingers through her hair and shakes her head. “Sorry. I-I am getting better. But I’m not going to… you know, get better.” She emphasises the last two words and separates them, hoping he’ll understand without her having to spell it out. “Not in the end…"

He nods and looks down at his hands, but doesn’t say anything. Silence stretches between them, long and melancholy. In the half-light Draco’s eyes sparkle like rain on a grey day.

Astoria takes a breath. She hates silences like this, the ones she always has to deal with once people realise what her illness means. "I, um. Did my sister tell you I was here?"

Draco shakes his head and runs his fingers along the metal frame of the bed, right by Astoria’s feet. "No. I was at the Ministry and I noticed you weren’t at your desk. One of your colleagues told me you were sick.”

Despite the exhaustion and the pain, Astoria manages a weak smile. “Did you enquire about my health, Draco? That was sweet of you."

His cheeks colour pink. "I did nothing of the sort. I was merely concerned that you might have been… kidnapped by a mad Muggle or something."

"A mad Muggle,” Astoria repeats, shaking her head. “Never change, Draco."

"I don’t intend to,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, then glances at her. “Once I knew you were ill I did ask your sister if I could visit. I didn’t want to intrude. I know you don’t like me much."

Astoria frowns. "When have I ever said I didn’t like you?"

Draco shrugs. "It was implied."

She looks down at her hands and pulls the covers further up in her lap, bunching the material between her fingers. "Well, I don’t. Not like you. I think you’re decent. You’re certainly not boring."

His expression twists into something unreadable. "I think there might be a compliment in there somewhere?”

Astoria sighs. “I was trying to be nice.” She brushes her hair out of her eyes with slightly shaky fingers. “I think I’m starting to… you’re the only person who’s come to visit me. Apart from Daphne and Mum. And at the party, you…” She smooths a crease out of her blanket. “I think I could consider you a friend at this point.”

Draco raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Could you? We’ve never had a conversation that lasted more than two minutes. Apart from at your birthday party, but I don’t think that counts. I was more a glorified leaning post than a conversation partner.”

Astoria looks up at him and smiles. “Well, now’s your chance.” She beckons him toward her. “Take your coat off, pretend you’re staying. You could even sit down if you wanted to be really daring."

Draco hesitates. "Are you sure you’re not too tired? I don’t want to-”

“If I get tired I’ll just fall asleep while you’re talking at me. It’ll be obvious when I need you to leave."

Draco smiles. "Alright then.” He shrugs out of his coat and hangs it up by the door, then he sits on the chair beside her and leans back, folding one leg over the other. “This room is rather nice. I always imagined hospital rooms would be a bit dingy an uncomfortable."

Astoria looks around. "I think they give me a nicer one because they know I’m going to be here for a while.” She points her wand across the room at a pile of sweets lying abandoned on a table. “Would you like a Jelly Slug?’ She asks, glancing at Draco. "Or a bean? I have more sweets here than I could ever eat in my life. I think word’s got around that I like them…” She summons the packet of Jelly Slugs from the side and holds it out to Draco. “I’d offer them to my clients at work, but can you imagine a Muggle finding a vomit flavoured Bertie Bott’s Bean? It would amount to torture. I’d have to arrest myself.”

Draco smiles and takes a Slug. “Imagine if a Chocolate Frog got loose in the Muggle world. You could cause a diplomatic incident."

Astoria sighs dramatically and bites the head off her Jelly Slug. "I’d never be allowed to work again. And I do quite like my job."

"I’ve always been curious about that,” Draco says. “You’re a Greengrass. You’re a Pureblood. But you work with Muggles. It always felt like a-” He looks at her, eyes bright with genuine curiosity rather than contempt. “I don’t know. I’ve never understood."

"If the war didn’t make you understand,” Astoria says, tone harsh, “then I can’t help you."

Draco sighs. "I didn’t mean… I know why it’s important. But you could do anything. You could be anything. Why this? Why them?"

Astoria shrugs and looks down at her hands. "Life is short. Why not do something worthwhile with it? No one else is going to defend them. The fact that I’m a Pureblood, whatever the hell that means, just makes it more important."

Draco surveys her, leaning back in his seat. "You’re a far better person than me."

"Everyone’s a better person than you, Draco.” She looks at him. “But don’t worry. The only way you can go from here is up."

Draco seems to consider that for a moment before he smiles. "How inspirational,” he says drily. “You should have considered a career in motivational speaking."

Astoria grins and eats another Jelly Slug. While she chews, Draco looks at the books on her bedside table. He flips through one, a Muggle novel, and sets it aside with a contemptuous expression. The next he opens up and his eyes widen. He plucks something out of it, a thin silver bookmark that he holds up, marking the page with his finger instead.

"This was your birthday present. I bought you this. And you’re using it."

"Oh,” Astoria smiles. “Yes. Normally I use scraps of parchment, but they always fall out. This is useful. It sort of sticks to the pages."

"If you want to read at night it’ll light up too,” Draco informs her. “So you don’t have to mess around with your wand. I used to have one for reading under the covers."

"Did you?” She asks. “I never thought of you as that much of a nerd.” She grins at him as she says it, teasing.

“I assure you,” Draco says, straight-faced, “I was an enormous nerd. It was the only way of trying to keep up with Hermione Granger. It didn’t work of course, but Father would never have forgiven me if I hadn’t at least tried."

"I’ve hear you’re an Alchemy nerd these days. When you make your Elixir of Life you should let me have some.” She grins at him and curls up against her pillows. “But seriously. Tell me about Alchemy. I don’t know much about it."

"I’d hate to bore you,” he says.

“My Healer will be grateful if you get me to fall asleep,” she says. “You might even be allowed back if you do that. Go on.” She settles down in bed, facing him, and listens as he begins to talk. Occasionally she interrupts his monologue with questions, but mostly she just lies there and listens. His voice is smooth and comforting, and the animation in it, the way he comes to life while he’s talking about his studies… it’s comforting, and beautiful.

She closes her eyes while she listens, and as she falls irresistibly into sleep, her heart begins to fall too, slowly, beat by steady beat, in love with Draco Malfoy.

—

When Astoria gets back to work a few weeks later, the first thing she finds on her desk is a package and a note. She sits down, kicks her shoes off because they’re already making her legs feel like jelly, and tears open the parcel. Several packs of mundane Muggle chocolate buttons spill out onto her desk, and she frowns down at them for a moment before remembering the note.

She breaks the seal without looking at it, and slides out the single small square of parchment. There are three words written there, and two familiar, precise letters.

For the Muggles,

Astoria gives a snort of laughter and buries her face in her hands. Her grin blossoms across her face, and joy floods through her. Any nerves she’d had about being back at work melt away in an instant.

She picks up her quill and a scrap of parchment, and scribbles a reply. Thankfully there’s no one else in the office yet to judge her as she skids barefoot across the tiled floor and runs off to the Owl Mail room downstairs.

That afternoon, a response comes sauntering into her office in the form of Draco himself. Today he’s wearing a green shirt and perfectly tailored grey trousers. When Astoria spots him, her first instinct is to hide in her cubicle. He looks too good to exist, and she’s supposed to be working. Work is impossible with Draco in the vicinity.

Unfortunately, he knows which desk is hers, and he comes over and leans in the entry-way. The way he’s draping himself against it tells her he knows exactly how good he looks. She makes sure to take her time finishing the document she’s reading before finally looking up at him.

“Oh, hello Draco. What are you doing here?"

He smirks down at her. "I had some business to do, but I thought I’d drop by while I’m in the building. How is it being back at the Ministry grindstone?"

"It was fine until you showed up,” Astoria says, deadpan. “I can’t believe you sent me chocolate buttons. Where did you get them from?”

“I stole them,” Draco replies, without a flicker, then he grins at her look of horror. “Of course I didn’t. My delinquent days are behind me. I ordered them from that shop on Diagon Alley that sells Muggle sweets.” He picks up one of the packets and inspects it. “Are they good? I’ve never tried them."

She steals it back from him, tears it open, and offers him a button. "Try one."

Draco pulls a disgusted face. "It’s a Mugglesweet…"

Astoria rolls her eyes. "It’s chocolate, Draco. Muggle chocolate is no different from Magical chocolate. It won’t kill you."

"It might,” he says, but when he catches her look he takes the button and eats it. There’s a thoughtful frown on his face as he chews and swallows, then he shakes his head. “Magical chocolate is better. I’m all for greater acceptance, but really. Magical chocolate is clearly far superior."

Astoria shrugs and throws a couple more buttons into her mouth. "All the more for me then.” She waves a hand at Draco, shooing him away. “Leave now, Malfoy. I have work to do."

He leans in closer. "What are you doing?"

She sets the buttons aside and opens her file. "Top secret and highly confidential work for the Ministry of Magic, which is none of your business."

He plucks the top sheet out of her file. "Artefact investigation? I thought this was your sister’s department."

Astoria snatches it back. "It is, but this one hurt a Muggle. It’s a pocket watch that ages you when you open it up to check the time. It was sold as an antique to this elderly Muggle woman, who… well…” she swallows. “She died. I’m trying to help her husband get compensation, but it was stolen before we could get a look at it, so I have no idea who it came from or who has it now. It could be with some other unsuspecting person as we speak.”

Draco reaches out a hand. “Do you have any information about the watch?” As he waits for her to find the right bit of parchment he unbuttons the cuffs on his shirt and absentmindedly rolls his sleeves up. Even th

#harry potter and the cursed child #drastoria #draco malfoy #astoria greengrass #astoria malfoy #malfoy family feels #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Thu, 16 Feb 2017 22:01:04

By@coe-lilium

#harry potter and the cursed child #harry potter #ginny weasley #ginny potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Thu, 16 Feb 2017 18:00:52

Written by @rarity-kasket

1.4k words, T rated

Albus is exhausted when he retires to the Slytherin dormitory after a long day of watching couples snog nauseatingly in every corridor of the castle, and dodging owls swooping in and out with scented red and pink envelopes. He hates this time of the year.

However, the sight of Scorpius sitting on his bed, surrounded by a fort of books and parchment, revives something in Albus. When Scorpius finally notices his presence, he looks up from his thick book and smiles before quickly burying his head back into his studies.

“You finally made it back,” Scorpius remarks as his eyes scan the pages of the book in his hands. Albus shrugs off his robe and slips out of his shoes and socks before flinging himself on top of Scorpius.

“Albus Severus Potter!” Scorpius gasps, squirming under the weight of Albus’ body. “You’re crinkling my notes!”

“Mm, I don’t care,” Albus replies, pressing his face against the crook of Scorpius’ neck.

“Albus, I really need to study tonight. We need to study tonight.”

“Stop being a nerd for like one moment.”

“There is a test in Defence against the Dark Arts this week, and it’s absolutely imperative that I familiarise myself with the different hexes and-”

Albus cuts him off with the gentle press of his lips. A part of him should feel guilty for dragging Scorpius away from such important work, but it’s hard to feel bad when Scorpius’s warm mouth presses back against his own. One of Scorpius’s hands reaches up to cup his face as the other hand weaves gently through his dark hair. A soft and audible moan leaves Albus’s lips at the warm, wet welcome of Scorpius’s tongue slipping into his mouth.

It’s Scorpius who pulls away first, flushing.

“You’re a terrible influence. We have a test to study for and essays to write.” Scorpius says, smiling, and Albus can’t help but smile back.

“Seriously Scorpius, do you want to spend the whole evening absorbed in those old drab books?”

“They aren’t drab. They’re actually fascinating. For instance, did you know that jinxes, hexes, and curse-” Albus kisses him again.

“You’re geeking out on me,” Albus says affectionately when he pulls back to look at Scorpius, who looks a bit dazed, cheeks bright pink.

“Geekiness comes with the Scorpius package.”

“Can I have a refund then?” Albus grins cheekily.

“If you’re going to poke fun at how geeky I am all night, I can go back to studying.”

Albus replies quickly. “No!”

“I thought so.” Scorpius leans his forehead against Albus’s shoulder, his hand tugging gently at his hair. For some reason, this draws a quiet laugh from Albus. Scorpius turns to look at him, smiling softly before pressing a kiss to the corner of his smile.

“Tell me all about your day, your royal geekness.”

Albus listens to small details of Scorpius’s day. Like talking with Professor Slughorn about the upcoming potions essay, a brutal Quidditch practice, and studying for their transfiguration quiz.

“Rose and I were in the library together when the most peculiar thing happened.”

“What was that?” Albus asks.

“Apparently, Yann worked up the courage to ask Rose out. A dozen or so owls swooped in dropping rose after rose until the table was completely covered in them. Roses for Rose.” Scorpius giggles at his own joke. Albus ignores it.

“What did she say?”

“That she would at least consider his offer. There are other suitors.”

“Merlin’s beard, how many?”

“I don’t know. I feel bad for him. I think he was hoping Rose would be his Valentine tomorrow.”

“Ugh, Valentine’s day. Don’t remind me. You can’t turn a single corner without seeing people snogging. And I am pretty sure that Lily is attempting to brew a love potion.” Albus throws himself back against the mattress.

“It’s just a holiday.” Scorpius shifts on his hands and knees, leaning over Albus.

“I hate Valentine’s day,” Albus grumbles. “It’s a completely ridiculous. Why do you need one day to show people that you care about them? It makes single people feel lonely and puts too much pressure on people in relationships to spend money on ridiculous gifts that they can hardly afford. I’m just glad that there’s someone else who also understands how pointless this all is.”

Scorpius looks down at Albus curiously.

“Who? Rose?”

“No, you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Oh.”

Albus pushes himself up on his elbows as Scorpius’s eyes flicker away from him with an uncertain expression.

“You like Valentine’s day!” Albus winces at how accusatory his tone sounds.

“It’s just a holiday.” Scorpius sighs.

“ I thought we decided not to celebrate Valentine’s day. ”

“Because I know how much you hate it.” Scorpius shrugs and sits back on his heels. “Yeah, it would be nice to receive a rose on Valentine’s day, but it’s not about the gifts. I don’t need a gift to know that I love you.”

Albus’s breath hitches softly at the sudden confession, and he feels his heart surges before racing like the speed of lightening.

Scorpius Malfoy loves him. Deep down, Albus feels that he already knew this. That he’s known for a long time now. That both Scorpius and he have been dancing around these three little words, afraid to break the spell. And now, it’s finally broken. It feels like everything has changed, and yet all remains the same. Albus swallows thickly as he thinks of what to say back.

“You love me?” Albus asks quietly as he watches a warm flush darken Scorpius cheeks.

“I’ve always loved you, Albus. You’re my best friend. You’re my first friend.” Scorpius pauses and looks up at the ceiling for the words before he sighs. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you. Even though you make fun of me all the time and sometimes you’re in the most terrible moods and you can be a little self-centered-”

“Scorpius,”

“Right, sorry- Albus, you make me the happiness person in the world. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Albus swallows thickly again as he tries to push the words out of his mouth. It’s just three simple words, and yet his tongue feels heavy as lead.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way–”

“No! You too. No, I mean, me too. I feel the same way too.“ Albus face-palms at his own botched confession. “I love you too. “ Slowly, a gentle smile tugs on Scorpius’s lips before he pushes Albus back against the bed.

“Say it again,”Scorpius breathes. Albus groans. Scorpius shouldn’t be allowed to look at him like that or say things like that. It’s unfair. It does things to Albus, makes him feel warm and light and drunk all over.

“You’re really going to make me botch this up again.”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” Albus exhales. “I love you.”

“And again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

Albus laughs. “Are you ever going to get tired of hearing me say it?”

“Nope.” Scorpius pops his lips obnoxiously, grinning from ear to ear, “Albus, I don’t care about Valentine’s day or the gifts. I care about you and being with you. So I’m okay if we don’t celebrate Valentine’s day. “

“Anyway, we all know that the best day is the day after Valentine’s day.”

Scorpius grins before he guesses, “All the discounted chocolate at Honeyduke’s that you can eat?”

“So it’s a date?”

“Absolutely. I won’t be late. I’ll be on Valentime! ” Albus groans at the awful pun, and Scorpius laughs heartily at his own joke. “Get it?”

“I wish I hadn’t.”

“Admit it, you loved it!.”

“I love you.”

Scorpius grows very pink at Albus’s confession. Albus feels his own cheeks grow warm too.

“And my puns?”

“Scorpius…”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t ruin this.” Albus leans forward to capture the laughter on Scorpius’s lips. And as much as he hates the snogging couples and the owls on their way with scented envelopes and roses, Albus realises that he’s not so different in this moment with Scorpius.

When it comes to love, they’re sappy, gross, and vomit-inducing too.

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Thu, 16 Feb 2017 13:02:26

By@abradystrix

With massive thanks to @torestoreamends for beta-ing and @autumn-of-ilvermorny for snogging enthusiasm :)

~~~

It’s a beautiful evening on the shore.

The water is warm and their toes are clutched deep into the wet sand as they roll their trouser legs up. Scorpius can’t help but glance at the skin on Albus’ legs, pale beneath a thatch of dark hair, bony ankles and knobbly knees exposed. His own feet seem long and gangly in comparison, and they instinctively curl inwards as his focus changes to the warm hand clasped in his.

He turns to look at Albus, whose gaze is soft and rests on the very line of the horizon. It burns orange and pink at the close of day. Scorpius rests his forehead down onto the crown of Albus’ head and breathes in the smell of the sea, the salty tang of the air and Albus. Just Albus. Fierce, funny, windswept Albus.

Albus tilts his head up to gaze at his friend, and something shifts. Before Scorpius realises what he’s doing, he’s caught Albus’ lips with his own and is kissing him, being kissed by him, feeling his breath and his soft lips and the slightest hint of a warm, tentative tongue.

His heart catches in his throat as the kiss deepens, and Albus’ hands are in his hair. He pulls him closer, pressing their chests together, beating hearts talking to one another through the soft fabric of their clothes. He rests his hands on Albus’ waist, softly at first, pulling him closer as it all intensifies. Feeling a burning sense of need inside, he allows his fingers to brush the delicate line where Albus’ t-shirt has ridden up and feels the delicious warmth of the skin there. Albus shifts against him, making a nondescript but utterly intoxicating murmur of approval.

They pull apart, infinitesimally, eyes closed and foreheads pressed together. They are both breathing quick, ragged breaths, and their feet in the sand are now touching, toe to toe. Albus draws a hand up to Scorpius’ face and presses his warm palm onto his cheek. Scorpius sighs happily, resting his flushed cheek into the reassuring pressure of Albus’s touch. Right now, the calming rush of the sea and the delectable warmth of this moment truly are all they need.

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Wed, 15 Feb 2017 22:01:06

By@coe-lilium

#harry potter and the cursed child #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Wed, 15 Feb 2017 20:01:15

By@xoruffitup

7.7k words, G rated

Albus is desperate to find the right words to tell Scorpius how he feels about him. Meanwhile, Scorpius has all but given up on Albus ever returning his feelings. Surely Valentine’s Day is the perfect opportunity for them to figure it all out.

Albus had been at it for a good hour now, but the small, infuriating roll of red parchment lying on the desk before him still remained only half-written. It seemed to be taunting him more and more with each passing minute. Sighing so heavily his lips buzzed, Albus was just about to let an exasperated fist fall against the worn old library table, when a familiar blonde head suddenly appeared beside the bookshelf Albus had hidden himself behind.

“Albus?” Scorpius inquired, making Albus jump and scramble to swipe the parchment and everything else on the desk hurriedly into his bag. The corner of his mouth tilting in amusement, Scorpius asked slowly, “What are you doing hiding back here?”

“I just… needed a quiet place to do that Potions essay. Had to focus. You know.”

“I know that when it comes to Potions, your go-to method is to do your homework as nearby my vicinity as possible, so you can steal all my answers.”

Albus’s lips puckered sourly. “I do not.”

Scorpius crossed his arms and struck an air imitating Albus’s belligerence. “Do so.”

“Whatever,” Albus muttered. “Can we just go to dinner? I’m starved.”

He made sure everything he’d swept from the desk was safely out of sight and his bag securely closed before standing up. He swept past Scorpius, leaving the other boy to pull the straps of his own bag tight and scramble after him.

“But obviously I approve of you spending more time in the library!” Scorpius chimed as they passed into the corridor together, heading down towards the Great Hall. “It warms the cockles of my heart to see you finally appreciating the unparalleled serenity of being surrounded by shelves and shelves of old books…”

Scorpius got a dreamy look on his face and Albus, glancing sideways at him, couldn’t suppress a fond laugh and smile.

“There is truly no hope for your geekness,” Albus deadpanned, just to cover up the erratic tone his heartbeat had taken.

Scorpius elbowed him easily as they went through the tall double doors into the Great Hall.

“Lucky you love me anyway.”

Albus’s hand tightened so hard around the strap of his bag, his knuckles went white.

“Yeah.”

Of course, Albus hadn’t been annoyed at all with Scorpius when his friend found him in the library. Quite the opposite. For Scorpius, he felt practically every emotion opposite on the spectrum from annoyance. But with himself, he was quickly losing patience.

Valentine’s Day was a week away. For most of his life, Albus had let the silly Muggle holiday come and go with little more than an eye roll. As far as he was concerned, the day wasn’t good for much more than a good laugh at the elaborate schemes girls undertook to gift singing cards or feeble love potions to the current targets of their infatuation.

But this year the day had taken on quite different significance for Albus.

He had felt quite unexpectedly adrift ever since the day of his and Scorpius’s return to Hogwarts from the last Christmas holiday. Or more precisely, that moment when he had first glimpsed Scorpius’s smiling, shining face in the crowded corridor of the Hogwarts express.

Albus’s feet had stopped dead as if turned to stone, his heart had started fluttering in an entirely unaccountable way, and a lightness suddenly overtook him that had yet to dispel, and he doubted ever would.

A single moment where his entire world seemed to upend. But once Scorpius fought his way through the tide of first-years and threw his arms around Albus, all the strangeness slotted into perfect position and clarity, just as quickly as it had all fallen upon him.

Oh, Albus had thought, returning Scorpius’s hug and breathing in the familiar scent – the thing that had been missing on those mornings at home when he’d woken up with a strange feeling of absence.

Wow. Albus had thought, spacing out entirely and not hearing a word as Scorpius chattered on in their compartment. Albus could do nothing but stare at him, while his thoughts whirled in a cacophony around the plain truth. Stunning yet natural all at once.

All this time.

Since then, there had never been the right moment to tell him. Albus suspected such a moment would never just fall into his lap of its own accord. He would have to make it himself – in the form of a little red parchment on which he would commit the truth of his anything-but-little feelings much more articulately than if he tried to voice them unscripted.

But Albus only had three more days… and the proper words still eluded him. Falling again into the recent habit he’d developed of using Scorpius’s prattling about homework this or history that as an opportunity for losing himself in Scorpius’s eyes, Albus turned agonized thoughts to the unfinished parchment in his bag. He would set himself to it again later tonight, behind the secrecy of his bed curtains.

The day before Valentine’s, Albus bustled from the library with a vexed expression, tucking a bit of red parchment into his bag, when he almost collided with a girl who’d been hurrying in the opposite direction.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders at the last moment to right herself and narrowly avoided knocking him over.

“Clara! I’m so sorry, wasn’t paying attention…” Albus said absently.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the girl said, blushing.

Albus knew the Hufflepuff girl from their shared Herbology classes, but he’d never really spent time with her outside of class. Even now, his thoughts were busy circling around all the different synonyms for ‘love’ he could possibly think of… surely he couldn’t write that word, could he?

Before Albus could rush off, Clara spoke again, “Actually, it’s good that I- ah, ran into you here… literally…” She gave a nervous little laugh, and Albus reflexively mirrored it. “I- um, I’ve been wanting to give you this…” She plunged a hand into her bag and started feeling around. “I know it’s a day early, but you won’t tell, will you?”

She winked before producing a small envelope from her bag and holding it out to Albus. It was white, except for a small pink heart adorning each corner.

“Oh. Ah. Thank you.” Completely off-kilter, Albus reached out to take it. He hadn’t a clue what kind of smile to go for or what to say, so he just did his best to reconcile his surprise into the friendliest expression he could muster.

“Sure,” she replied, blushing furiously now. This time, Albus noticed. “I hope you like it!” she added in a rush, before hurrying away down the corridor.

Albus remained rooted to the spot for a few moments, staring at the wholly unexpected letter in his hand. He had a pretty good idea of its contents. Of the many reactions currently working at him, the first was an admiration and wonder at Clara. She had, seemingly quite effortlessly, managed what he himself had spent the last week agonizing over. Not only had she completed the writing, but the delivery too! This slid into guilt, because while Albus knew all too well the effort, thought, and vulnerable hope that went into the writing, he also knew full well how poor a recipient he was of her efforts.

Then, the most important emotion settled in – the warm, fluttering flattery that unfolded in his chest when he recognized what she was handing him. With his perspective flipped, he suddenly knew exactly the kind of sentiment to put into his letter to make the most of its impact. Knowing Scorpius almost as well as he knew himself, Albus realized exactly what Scorpius would want to read if such a letter were pressed into his own hand – exactly what would move Scorpius the most.

“Albus! Been in the library again? I must say I’m quite pleased.”

Coming from his Ancient Runes class that had just let out, Scorpius saw Albus turn to him with quite a massive grin.

“Are you okay?” Scorpius asked, uncertain. “I didn’t expect you to catch onto the charms of the library quite so whole-heartedly…”

“I’m great. Brilliant, actually,” Albus replied, still grinning. “Just- ah, cracked those Arithmancy problems!”

Oh, he’d cracked something alright, but something much more important than Arithmancy…

“Right… Well, if you’re finished the homework, want to go watch Quidditch?”

Albus was tempted to make an excuse to stay in the common room to write the parchment to completion, but the warmth of Scorpius’s company was too much to resist. He would finish it later tonight, and a few hours with Scorpius might provide even more inspiration…

“Sure! But let’s drop our bags off first, alright?”

So the two dashed down to the Slytherin common room and dumped their bags onto their beds before racing each other out again, breathless and laughing the whole way to the Pitch.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Albus spluttered for what must have been the fifth time. But his manner was only play outrage as he wiped mud from his face and batted at Scorpius, trying to smear some of the mud on him. Scorpius yelped and jumped out of Albus’s reach, darting ahead of him into the castle Entrance Hall.

“Not my fault you’re such an easy target!” Scorpius taunted, grinning over his shoulder for a moment before Albus lurched after him. Scorpius gave a squeak and tore off towards the dungeons and the Slytherin common room.

After Scorpius had succeeded in covering Albus in mud while they ambled along the shore of the lake on their way back from the Quidditch Pitch, Albus immediately attracted the ire of his fellow Slytherins when he entered the common room, dripping mud on the carpet.

“It’s his fault!” Albus declared indignantly, pointing at his infuriatingly clean and dry best friend.

Scorpius just stood there laughing silently to himself. It certainly wasn’t his fault his own mud-slinging aim was so much better than Albus’s.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Albus replied, flapping a hand at the chorus of calls for “SHOWER, POTTER!”

“Don’t think this is over,” Albus muttered to Scorpius with a playful grin as he walked towards the showers. “I will have vengeance.”

“I’ll be on my guard,” Scorpius assured, trying for serious even though a few giggles still escaped him at the sight of Albus’s mud-speckled face.

Scorpius watched Albus disappear into the bathrooms with a slight sigh. It really wasn’t fair… Even covered in mud, Albus still looked attractive.

But then again, Scorpius supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by now. After all, it had been in the moment when Albus shattered the surface of the lake water beside him – when he’d emerged sputtering for breath, the water plastering his hair in every direction against his face, his eyes blown wide with both thrill and confusion at all he’d just seen – that he’d first realised it.

Even while Scorpius’s toes had gone numb from the frigid lake water and the memory of the Dementors’ dark, soul-sucking faces remained fresh in his mind, that had been the moment when he was suddenly overwhelmed by staggering relief and joy the likes of which he’d never known before. And with Severus Snape’s Patronus still glimmering in his mind’s eye, Scorpius knew exactly what the force of it all meant.

One person. It only took one person.

And Scorpius had embraced Albus desperately in the water that day, and known ever since that no matter what happened, no matter what the future held, he would love Albus Potter for the rest of his life.

Of course there were moments when it hurt. Moments when they were alone together, studying late into the night next to the roaring fire, when Albus looked at him with such a fond glimmer in his eyes, it was all Scorpius could do not to take Albus’s head between his hands and kiss the lips he had to pry his eyes away from. There had been moments at the Potters’ over the summer – lying outside on the lawn under the stars, when Scorpius had to ball his hands into fists and dig his nails in, to stop his hand from curling around Albus’s in the grass just beside him. Moments when it all felt so clear, so natural… that fighting those urges felt as difficult as resisting the oxygen in his lungs.

But these came few and far between. Scorpius may have come to see Albus in a different light once he’d lived the hopeless darkness of a world without him, but nothing changed the fact that before everything else, Albus was his closest and dearest friend. They still ate all the Pepper Imps and Jelly Slugs they could manage on the train rides to and from Hogwarts. They still whiled away the hours sitting together in the Owlery, talking about everything and nothing – candour and rubbish. Scorpius still let Albus copy his homework now and then, and Albus still made sure Scorpius got to bed every night rather than falling asleep across his books in the library or in the common room.

Scorpius was immensely glad that although everything had changed within himself, his and Albus’s friendship remained unaffected. Albus was still the defining centre of his life, and Scorpius didn’t plan to do anything to jeopardize that. Being with Albus every day was more than enough to keep his heart happy, regardless of how his fantasies sometimes ran away with him…

Wondering what the corner of one of Albus’s smirks would taste like, or whether their fingers would fit together just as seamlessly as Scorpius had always imagined…

In their dormitory, Scorpius went about tidying up his bed while Albus was off in the showers. He gathered together the books that had spilled from his bag after he’d carelessly tossed it onto his bed earlier, and stacked them neatly on his bedside table.

His foot knocked against one of Albus’s books that had tumbled to the floor. He leaned down to pick it up and replace it in Albus’s bag. But as he lifted Albus’s bag, two colored envelopes fluttered onto the bedspread. One was bright red. The other, white with pink hearts.

Scorpius froze. His brows knitted together in puzzlement. He took a furtive look around the room to double check he was alone.

At first glance, they looked like… Valentine’s cards? And two of them? Surely Albus would have told him about girls suddenly running after him…

Scorpius swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. He’d known a day like this would come eventually: when Albus would get a crush he might actually have a chance with, and Scorpius would have to put on an encouraging, approving front for Albus’s romantic pursuits that would have nothing to do with him.

But why wouldn’t Albus have told him? Neither of them had ever had much luck as far as girls were concerned (not that Scorpius was giving much effort in that department anymore), so wouldn’t this have been big news? And two cards…

Scorpius knew he really shouldn’t, but he simply couldn’t help himself. He was disappointed, and further bewildered, to find the white envelope unopened. But when he turned it over in his hands, he spotted a girl’s small, curling script on a back corner.

‘To Albus Potter, from Clara Moon.”

The Hufflepuff girl he and Albus shared a few classes with? Scorpius hadn’t realized Albus even knew her at all… But Scorpius’s surprise quickly melted, then soured, when he saw the little hand-drawn hearts Clara had adorned around Albus’s name. Scorpius had always thought Clara seemed nice enough, but now his thoughts of her suddenly turned rather uncharitable.

Before he could think better of it, Scorpius reached for the red envelope. This one was open, and he took out the similarly colored bright parchment inside. He opened it slowly, not sure what would hurt less… Was it from some other newly-revealed admirer, or…

No, this was worse. Scorpius’s heart thudded painfully when he immediately recognized Albus’s own handwriting. The letter was only partially written. It wasn’t even addressed with a name yet, but Scorpius couldn’t bear to read a single word.

It all seemed quite plain to him. Clara had made an advance, and Albus was returning it. Or maybe Albus had written first?

Maybe, while Scorpius had been so busy telling himself he was perfectly happy being silently in love with his best friend, he had entirely failed to notice his best friend’s eyes finding a new favourite target in Herbology class…

Scorpius couldn’t put words to the storm in his chest. He fought valiantly to keep his mind blank as he replaced the cards as he thought he’d found them, so Albus wouldn’t know he had seen.

There was jealousy, of course. An odd, inexplicable sense of betrayal Scorpius knew he had no entitlement to… And naturally, a deep, lonely pain…

“AHA!” Albus suddenly leapt into the dormitory, freshly showered and brandishing a towel wet from his still-sopping hair.

Before Scorpius had a hope of defending himself, Albus leapt on him and rubbed the towel thoroughly over Scorpius’s head, until Scorpius’s hair stood up in damp, unkempt spikes.

Scorpius needed a moment to recover from the surprise attack.

“Told you I would have vengeance!” Albus declared, grinning triumphantly as he slung the tool of his revenge over his shoulder and sauntered over to his wardrobe.

Once he’d blinked a few times through the suddenness of Albus’s timing, Scorpius found a smile spreading across his face.

Relief, normalcy… and the same easy intimacy he and Albus had always shared. Nothing would change that, and no girl would ever know Albus as completely as Scorpius did. At least for now – no one else in the world shared these moments with him, and Albus was still his in a way no one else knew.

Scorpius abandoned his concerns to the moment.

“No you don’t, Potter!”

And a pillow came hurling for the back of Albus’s head.

Today was finally the day, and none too soon. Once Scorpius went off to the showers on the morning of Valentine’s Day, Albus reached for the red envelope he’d hidden between the pages of his Transfigurations textbook. Retrieving it, he read through the completed letter one more time. He’d finished it by wand light the night before, once everyone else had gone to sleep.

Albus smiled as he folded it and tucked it away in his bag. He was terribly, unspeakably nervous about how the day would go, but at least he could be sure he had written the letter as well as he possibly could.

In his mind, Albus went over both his and Scorpius’s timetables for the day, trying to plan the best opportunity to pull Scorpius into a quiet moment alone. Scorpius had a free period before lunch, and if Albus finished his Charms test this morning rather quickly, he should have time to find Scorpius before they headed to the Great Hall…

“Albus! You’re not out of bed yet?!” Albus startled and leapt up.

“I am, I am!”

Scorpius was just coming back from the bathroom, dressed in his uniform robes with his hair freshly fluffed from the shower steam. “You have that Charms test this morning! Come on, we’ve got to get some breakfast in you beforehand so you can be in top shape!”

“I know, I just need a minute…”

The ‘minute’ it usually took Albus to throw his uniform on and grab his books turned out to be more like five, with the recurring effort it took him to reel his gaze away from the sight of Scorpius, freshly-showered and still damp and pink-cheeked.

They still scampered from the dungeons with enough time for breakfast – Albus feeling around in his bag to make sure one last time the bright red card was securely inside.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Albus said as they parted after breakfast, trying not to sound too squeaky when he said it.

“Of course! Good luck on the test!” Scorpius called, flapping his hand in an exuberant wave.

Albus watched Scorpius’s blonde, grinning head shrinking away through the throng of students. He swore he could feel his heart beating right between his ears. Albus took a deep breath before hurrying off in the direction of the Charms classroom.

He would certainly need all the luck he could get today; But for something much more important than Charms…

Albus couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing in his lessons. He’d been so focused on silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to Scorpius, he suddenly found himself paired with Yann Fredericks for their Charms assessment, without any clue what it was they were supposed to be demonstrating.

“Shield Charms,” Yann hissed at Albus’s helpless look while they took their places across from each other.

Professor Flitwick had left a half hour for the assessment, but Albus grew restless after the first five minutes. It hardly bothered him that his force field, meant to be deflecting the sparks Yann fired from his wand, kept turning purple and floating away. All he could think of was the fact that Scorpius would have finished Divination by now. He would be heading towards the library for his free period, where Albus had to catch him and take him away to…

It was no wonder Albus couldn’t focus on Charms, through all the fervent silent prayers bouncing through his head that things would go according to plan.

As soon as Yann had performed his own charms well enough to receive his deserved marks, Albus scurried to start collecting his things as inconspicuously as possible.

“Going somewhere, Mr. Potter?” Professor Flitwick’s voice chimed.

Already throwing his bag over his shoulder, Albus turned towards Flitwick while his feet gravitated towards the door.

“Yes, Professor. Stomach ache. Terribly sorry. I’ll make up the assessment!”

Albus hurried from the room, his last thought on the subject of Charms being that it didn’t make the slightest difference to him whether Professor Flitwick let him make up the test or not.

Dashing for the library, Albus already saw all the tell-tale signs of Valentine’s Day. Pink streamers and banners were to be seen adorning the hallways and corridors. Girls moved along the corridors in grinning, giggling groups; while boys slinked around in grumbling embarrassment.

Albus slid to a halt in front of the library entrance. He hoped to find Scorpius before he became too immersed in his work. He could sometimes be known to get cross when Albus interrupted him from an especially productive study session.

“Albus!” Scorpius looked up in surprise when Albus appeared suddenly beside the table where he’d just started spreading out his notes and books. “How did the test go? You finished already?”

Just like that, in the flash of a moment it had taken for Scorpius to raise his head and mingle his gaze with Albus’s, all the determination that had propelled Albus to this spot abandoned him.

Nervous, fretful butterflies replaced it, suddenly making clear thought an immense challenge.

Plan. He had a plan. Keep to the script.

Albus clutched the strap of his bag tightly.

“Fine. The test was fine, I think. Doesn’t matter. Go ahead and pack your books up again, why don’t you.”

Scorpius raised an eyebrow at him, fixing Albus with an amused expression. “Since when do you boss me around like that?”

“Since today,” Albus responded with every bit of flippancy he could muster. “Come on – I want to show you something. Something important.”

Scorpius’s raised eyebrow almost disappeared into his blonde fringe. “Okay…”

His friend seemed quite set and serious about whatever it was, so Scorpius obliged, promptly packing his things away again without another word.

“Where are we going?” Scorpius asked as they left the library together. “What’s this ‘something important’?”

“You’ll see,” Albus said in a preoccupied sort of way, coming to a halt outside the library and looking back and forth to each end of the corridor a few times, as if trying to remember directions. Scorpius watched him in bewilderment for a moment, before an almost-visible light bulb went off over Albus’s head.

“It’s this way!” His face set, Albus abruptly took Scorpius’s wrist and marched off towards the right.

The Slytherin common room, the Great Hall, and the Entrance Hall were all towards the left… leaving Scorpius at a complete loss of ideas as to where Albus could be dragging him off to. But he knew better than to question Albus right now. Plain as day, Scorpius caught that glimmer in Albus’s eyes – the one that meant Albus had his sights set on some hair-brained scheme or undertaking that no one would be able to talk him out of. There was nothing for it but to accompany Albus down whatever path he’d glued his feet to, and try to contribute at least a bit of sanity to Albus’s hot-headedness.

Albus’s fingers remained linked around Scorpius’s wrist. Unable to help himself from looking down to where Albus’s hand held him in a gentle but insistent grip, Scorpius’s cheeks tinged pink and he prayed Albus wouldn’t look back to see. When they passed by an alcove draped in pink lace and mistletoe, Albus’s fingers seemed to burn warmer against Scorpius’s skin, and Scorpius waged a desperate but ultimately hopeless battle against the pounding of his heart.

“Yes!” Albus exclaimed suddenly, finally stopping their march. “Here it is.”

Scorpius’s struggle to contain his attraction suddenly subsided, distracted by concern that Albus had finally lost his marbles.

They were standing in front of a completely blank, unremarkable wall.

“Albus. Not that I’m not glad you took me from my studying to stare at this lovely wall, but…”

Albus flapped a hand at him in a quick be quiet gesture. But that wasn’t what brought Scorpius up short – It was the unmistakable extra color in Albus’s face, and the way his eyes shone and kept darting away and then back towards Scorpius in a rapid chase.

“Just… Just trust me for a minute, yeah?”

Albus’s voice rung unnaturally high – nervous, though distinctively purposeful. Whatever this was about, it was obviously important.

“Always.”

They shared a blossoming smile.

A moment later, Albus turned back towards the wall with a determined set to his shoulders. Albus closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing them like he was thinking very hard about something. Then, Scorpius watched as Albus started pacing back and forth before the wall.

Once…

Twice…

Scorpius was about to (very gently) voice concern again before Albus finished the third round of pacing, but then Scorpius froze with his mouth only half-open.

Three times…

Thinking back to what had always been one of his favourite sections of Hogwarts: A History, Scorpius quickly looked around them. And sure enough, there it was. On the wall behind them hung the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

A surge of excitement leapt loose in Scorpius’s chest.

“Albus! You found the-”

Scorpius’s words cut off as a door slowly appeared in the wall before them.

“The Room of Requirement,” Albus confirmed with a nod, coming to stand next to Scorpius again with a gratified smile. “But I wanted to wait until today to show it to you.”

He grinned at Scorpius and took his wrist again.

“Let’s go.”

Albus pushed the door open, and Scorpius followed him in.

Compared with the resplendent flowers, the blooming papier-mâché hearts hanging from garlands, the soft glow of twinkling lights throughout the room… the Valentine’s decorations that had appeared throughout the rest of the castle seemed downright gaudy.

Here, the two seemed to have stumbled into an untouched Eden, where no poisoned apple had ever spoiled the existence of pure, innocent love and beauty.

“Wow,” Scorpius breathed, his attention stolen by a small fountain sprinkling water into a wide basin, where tiny birds chirped atop heart-shaped lily pads and bright flowers blossomed.

“I know the rest of the castle is decorated too…” Scorpius’s attention was reeled back at the sound of the jumpy, high-pitched edge to Albus’s voice, making Scorpius turn towards him.

“…But the decorations are usually so ugly and pink… A-and, well… I wanted something nicer for you…”

Though instantly touched, Scorpius had to make his brain keep working through how to interpret Albus’s words. How could he respond in a way that was sufficiently… platonic? What was Albus really on about here?

Sometimes, Albus Potter still managed to throw him for a complete loop. Yet another reason why Scorpius adored him so.

But Scorpius knew full well he had to keep such thoughts at a distance while in Albus’s proximity. Still fishing for the appropriate words, Scorpius reached out to put a hand on Albus’s shoulder, to bide a few seconds while silently conveying that Albus’s gesture – whatever its motivation – had made an impact.

Still looking nervous, Albus seemed to jump slightly when Scorpius’s hand touched his shoulder. Surprised, Scorpius watched as Albus suddenly pulled his bag around and began fingering through the contents. His hand closed on something, and Scorpius watched in growing bewilderment as Albus seemed to wholly freeze for a moment – locked somewhere between determination and apprehension. Albus looked up at him again, and something he saw there seemed to finally spur him to action.

“Here.”

Albus withdrew his hand from his bag. In it was a bright red envelope.

Scorpius’s throat constricted and for a split second, he couldn’t breathe. He’d had no idea where this was all heading, but this certainly hadn’t been one of the possibilities that had flown through his brain.

Albus didn’t expect him to… To read over a love letter he’d written for some girl… Did he?

The sudden turn of Scorpius’s expression made Albus momentarily falter. Albus couldn’t remember ever seeing his friend look so profoundly off-kilter.

Albus’s heart began sprinting a mile a minute, doubt and regret clawing their way up within him. But he’d started, he’d come this far and now he had to see this through…

Albus cleared his throat, trying desperately not to let all his fear show through.

“This is my first time doing something like this. I know you might be surprised but… You’re the only one I could ever want to write it for. The only one who ever made me feel so much that I couldn’t help it…”

Ignoring how his fingers trembled, Albus reached out to take one of Scorpius’s hands in his own. He lifted Scorpius’s hand between them, and placed the letter in it.

“You might think I did a rubbish job of writing it, but… There was a lot to figure out, you know? A lot to say.”

For a long moment, Scorpius just stared at the envelope blankly.

Scorpius didn’t understand. He was wholly at a loss. Something in Albus’s words pulled at him, but the painful memory of Clara Moon’s twirly handwriting was too fresh to ignore.

“I-I’m sorry, Albus,” Scorpius choked out. He looked at the bright red envelope in his own palm, resting beneath Albus’s fingers, but all he saw was that other, white envelope beside it. The little pink hearts.

It was too much.

“I can’t…”

“I just… want you to know,” Albus blurted, desperately. “That’s all.”

He squeezed Scorpius’s fingers slightly. He just needed Scorpius to read the letter… Albus couldn’t bear this moment at the precipice. His tongue would never be able to form the sufficient words for them to survive the jump.

He had no idea that at that exact moment, Scorpius hung by his fingertips above his own precipice. And because, before this, he’d only barely managed to forget the letters – because all this strangeness stabbed right at the spot under his heart that he hid and cherished above all else… Scorpius’s temper flared. It was an automatic self-defence mechanism; otherwise he would have crumbled where he stood.

“You just want me to know you fancy someone else? Pretty odd way to go about it. Why did you even bother bringing me here, Albus? Was it supposed to be some kind of mean joke? And I thought I’d been so careful not to let on, ever since…”

Scorpius’s breath caught, and stalled his speech. He had never, ever confessed a word of it to anyone… Then, suddenly, he was propelled into proper anger. At Albus, for toying with his feelings like this. At himself, for letting his meticulously built walls crack.

He felt that there couldn’t be any going back or sweeping it away. He’d given a voice to the depths of his most powerful longings, and it was to him so momentous, it wasn’t possible for him to ignore. It stood before him like some physical force suddenly escaped from his control, as plain to Albus’s eyes as to his own. But he would master it again. If he didn’t, there would be nothing left of him…

“Is that it?! You-you figured out how I feel about you, and this is how you chose to make clear what I already knew the whole time. Have me read the letters you’re writing to some girl, after you take me to this place, mocking me… Well, you shouldn’t have bothered. I know how it is. Don’t think…”

Scorpius squeezed his eyes shut, barely able to breathe.

“I’m not stupid enough to think that you’d ever love me back!”

The words rang in the room. Birds took to the air in a twittering flutter. The garlands hanging from the ceiling swung in an imperceptible breeze.

Albus blinked rapidly, utterly frozen as what he’d just heard sank in. And then he was blinking tears away – of frustration, heartache to see the pain and the depth of feeling clear in Scorpius’s wounded expression.

And then the word echoed back to Albus across the room.

‘Love.’

A distant, buzzing prospect of joy twinkled like a far off star. That word had just come from Scorpius’s mouth… About Albus. But its fulfilment glimmered at a hopeless distance. It lay light years beyond his reach, and Albus stood impossibly far from its warmth. Unless…

There was one thing to do. One thing that would heal everything…

Albus took Scorpius’s hand between both his own with deliberate, delicate tenderness. He didn’t dare look at the distraught expression on Scorpius’s face any further. It would rend his own heart in two. Instead, Albus focused on Scorpius’s fingers. The fingers he’d watched so often scrawling notes and essays elegantly across parchment. The fingers he’d yearned to touch more times than he could count. As gently as he could, Albus pushed Scorpius’s hand towards him, until the letter was pressed against Scorpius’s heart.

“Read it,” Albus whispered, raw. “Please.”

Scorpius just stared at him. His expression unreadable. His eyes simultaneously accusatory and pleading.

“It’s not what you think.”

The desperation, the feeling in Albus’s voice moved Scorpius. He looked down to the letter, watching Albus’s fingers tremble around it.

Albus would never take a joke this far. He would never go on with this, if the contents of the envelope would cause Scorpius pain. Scorpius might have lost all clue as to what his friend was thinking or planning since Albus had taken him from the library, but he still knew that part of Albus without a doubt. Scorpius had made it plain that if the contents of the letter were what he expected, they would break his heart. And yet Albus pressed the letter to him more insistently than ever.

Scorpius had no choice but to trust Albus. The letter must be something else…

After wetting his lips and swallowing thickly to clear his expression as well he could, Scorpius loosened his hand from the cradle Albus’s had made. He slid a finger under the envelope’s back flap.

He looked up into Albus’s face one last time. Taking in Albus’s wide, defenceless eyes, the way his lips were parted as if it were all he could do just to continue drawing breath… Scorpius thought he found traces of the same desperate passion he himself had lived with all year.

It seemed, in giving Scorpius the letter, Albus was risking just as much injury as Scorpius in reading it.

Scorpius held his breath, and opened the envelope.

Dear Scorpius,

You’ve been my best friend for five years now, but only now do I feel like I’ve fully seen you for the first time. I know Valentine’s is a terribly cliché day to tell you all this, but I don’t think I’ll be able to go on for very long hiding it all, and it’s far too important to leave to chance. I decided to take Valentine’s as an opportunity to tell you properly, even though I’m scared witless.

It’s hard to explain why I’ve only just realized exactly what you mean to me. I don’t think you’ve changed – you’re just as wonderful as you’ve always been. And I don’t think I’ve changed in any considerable way, either. The answer must be that actually, I’ve always felt this way about you. Possibly since the first day we met. I’ve never been so close with anyone before, and maybe this whole time I took the depth of my feelings for granted as just friendship. But even if friendship is all you ever have or ever can feel for me – which is already more than enough to make me happy, since you’re such a better friend than anyone could ask for – I just want you to know the truth.

We’ve always told each other everything, and I feel I may explode if I tried to keep this inside. You would probably start to wonder what’s the matter with me. So I’ll just out with it. You make me feel more complete than I knew it was possible to feel. You make me more than just happy. The whole world seems right and better when you’re in the middle of mine. I don’t want to use that word because I don’t want to freak you out, but I don’t suppose it could bother you too much to know that I’m (several words had been written here, then crossed out) quite smitten with your terrible jokes and your geekness extraordinaire. All of you, in fact. Even when you eat too many Pepper Imps and start rocketing off the walls. I hope you’ll always let me be there to get you down from the ceiling.

Still your best friend,

Albus

Halfway through reading the incredible sentiments scrawled there on the red parchment that moments ago had been so terrifying to Scorpius… Scorpius fell from his own precipice. He fell headlong into uncharted depths. Mere moments ago, it had been inconceivable that such words could come to him from Albus. Suddenly his lungs struggled to find air and his brain stuttered around the words on the page, as all that he’d assumed and expected fell away from him.

His mind rushed in frantic circles, from one stunning fact to the next.

Albus felt what he felt.

Albus had done what Scorpius never even allowed himself to imagine.

Scorpius had jumped to the farthest incorrect conclusion and unjustly accused him.

Scorpius swallowed down shame and guilt. Albus had been braver than Scorpius could ever hope to be himself. He’d been moved to his act of courage by his feelings for Scorpius, and Scorpius had yelled at him. Albus had been unthinkably, heroically bold on both their accounts, and…

“Albus,” Scorpius whimpered, overwhelmed and holding the parchment up before his face in a reflexive attempt to hide his watering eyes and trembling mouth. The revelation of Albus’s feelings was quickly beginning to bubble and vibrate in Scorpius’s chest, giving off such warmth that his self-admonishment – indeed any feeling at all other than pure elation – rapidly melted away. But the feeling was so immense, and Scorpius hadn’t been at all prepared…

“I’m so sorry,” Scorpius choked, making Albus take half a step closer to him in concern. Although Scorpius’s thoughts had seemed to slow into confused eternity since reading the letter, in actuality only seconds had passed. Albus had spent them in anxious agony, biting his lip as he desperately tried to read his friend’s face. He’d had no luck. He’d never seen Scorpius look anything like this before.

Scorpius’s voice came wavering again, “You… you’re so brave. So incredibly brave. And lovely. And I…”

Scorpius took a vast breath in. And then, finally, the parchment dropped and Albus saw Scorpius’s wet eyes fixed on him in wonder. And-… Albus wanted to believe… something like adoration.

“Oh, Albus.”

Scorpius launched himself at Albus. The parchment fluttered to the floor as Scorpius entirely lost himself. Lifted by elation and the suddenly overwhelming need to do what he had longed so desperately for… Scorpius’s hands cupped Albus’s face without a trace of symmetry and he kissed him with all the feeling and passion as if his life depended on it. Scorpius felt like it did. Like only Albus’s lips could bring his mind back to rational thought and restore his proper senses.

And kissing Albus felt just like sublime perfection. Like something too good, too powerful for this world.

Albus floundered for half a moment. The sudden press of Scorpius’s lips – desperately insistent and yet unspeakably soft – knocked his breath from him. His brain shut down full stop, and instinct took over as he grappled blindly for as much of Scorpius as he could reach.

His hands buried in the folds of Scorpius’s robes, Albus drew Scorpius tightly to him as he kissed back with clueless, pure-hearted enthusiasm. Finesse wouldn’t have belonged. The kiss enveloped gasps of cut-off, shocked breath; over-eager lips that sought to feel and claim and caress all at once. Delight that turned each point of contact into indescribable bliss.

Neither had felt anything like it before. And when they slowly parted – Albus’s heels sinking to the floor again while their eyes tentatively found each other – they each slowly beamed to find that same wonder reflected back at them.

Albus let out a low, stunned laugh of relief. “I-I had no idea how you would react. I just prayed that you wouldn’t be angry – wouldn’t hate me for messing things up between us…”

“Albus Potter,” Albus’s heart stopped short at the fond tenderness resonating in Scorpius’s voice. Scorpius lifted a hand from Albus’s shoulder to rest his fingertips against the side of Albus’s face, stroking his thumb along Albus’s cheek with a feather-light touch, as if Albus were something holy. “There’s nothing in the whole world you could do to make me hate you.”

Not knowing what to say in response to this declaration, Albus fumbled on, “I-I just couldn’t keep it all inside. It was too much. Being around you all day, wanting so badly to touch you and not being able to…”

Scorpius felt Albus’s hands grip more tightly where Albus still held him around the waist.

“I know. Oh, I know. It’s almost unbearable. I’ve been living with it since last year…”

“Last year?” Albus echoed incredulously. “You’re the brave one.”

Scorpius’s fingers were still caressing Albus’s face, revelling in the feel of Albus’s skin and the curve of his cheek – all the features he’d so longed to acquaint himself with. Albus’s eyes slipped shut as Scorpius traced a thumb along Albus’s upper lip. Scorpius watched his own movements with a wobbling smile and wet, overjoyed eyes. Only the warmth of Albus’s breath against his fingers assured him this wasn’t another dream.

“I don’t even know if I would call it brave, what I just did,” Albus murmured, shivering a touch at the feel of his lips bumping Scorpius’s fingers. “More reckless, really.”

Scorpius let out a breath of laughter. Foregoing his precise explorations for the moment, he threw his arms around Albus’s neck and burrowed close to him again. He pressed his face down tightly against Albus’s neck and breathed in his scent, overjoyed that he was finally allowed to openly do so.

Neither had ever thought their friendship wanted for anything, and yet both found themselves thinking they’d never felt more at home than in each other’s embrace.

As Albus squeezed him close again, Scorpius murmured, “Then thank Dumbledore you’re so reckless.”

They were lying together on a thick blanket spread out beside the water fountain when Albus asked, “What made you think the letter was for someone else?”

Leaning on an elbow, Albus looked down to where Scorpius lay facing him, his arms entwined around Albus and fingers tracing random patterns on his back. “I know I can be a bit thick about these things, obviously it took me a while to sort out that I feel for you quite a lot more than friendship, but…”

Scorpius looked down towards Albus’s chest for a moment, remorse making a brief reappearance.

“It wasn’t your fault at all. I’m the one who should apologize about it. You see… I saw the red envelope in your bag a while ago, and… it was together with an envelope with a girl’s handwriting on it, so I only assumed…”

Albus breathed out in a rush. “You thought the red envelope was my reply.”

Scorpius nodded, before he finally dared to look back to Albus’s face. He was just opening his mouth to ask the tentative, awkward question, when Albus thankfully beat him to it.

“I won’t be replying to that other letter, just so you know. Clara is a nice enough girl and I feel a bit bad she had to waste her effort on me, but…”

Albus’s smile returned with unencumbered full force again, twinkling for Scorpius and Scorpius alone.

“I happen to have the best Valentine in the entire school, and I don’t plan on giving him up anytime soon.”

Scorpius hadn’t known it was possible for his face to hurt from smiling, or his heart to ache from joy. He’d lived so long with the normal, dreary kind of heartache, Albus’s loving eyes and the heat of him pressed close made Scorpius feel he’d been granted a jolt of new life.

“From now on, I think Valentine’s Day will always be my favourite holiday. It’s the first day I’ll get to hold your hand and let anyone who asks know that you’re all mine,” Scorpius replied, leaning up close to nudge his nose against Albus’s – their lips only an eager breath apart.

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Wed, 15 Feb 2017 18:00:48

By@drawinggoose

Meanwhile, in the dark, dark depths of Azkaban, an equally dark witch Delphini NoName is keeping herself busy by flirting with young inexperienced Auror, Victoire Weasley. Delphi, a true daughter of her father, knows how to act charming and sweet when it’s necessary, and little Victoire stands no chance when confronted with those shining eyes.

It’s quite unusual for me to like non-canonical pairings. Most of my OTPs are either confirmed, canon relationships, or at least hinted ones. Victoire/Delphi is a guilty pleasure of sorts (forgive me, poor Teddy!), which has come to life after the reading of a particularly bitter-sweet fanfiction “Mermaids Singing Each to Each”. It spawned a little twisted headcanon about Auror-Victoire and her ill-fated romance with Azkaban’s newest inhabitant.

What can I say in my defense? It’s not the weirdest concept HP fandom has invented.

#harry potter and the cursed child #delphi diggory #victoire weasley #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Wed, 15 Feb 2017 13:02:21

By@ijustwalkintomordor

4.1K words, G rated

Scorpius knows his dad is lonely, so he convinces Albus to help set him up with the new smokey-eyed potions professor. If Scorpius has his way they’ll all have a happy Valentine’s Day.

Scorpius Malfoy isn’t stupid, but for the life of him he can’t figure out why his father hasn’t dated anyone since his mother died. Astoria had made it very clear that she wanted him to move on, but Draco isn’t even trying, and for Scorpius, who hates leaving his only family alone for most of the year, it’s infuriating.

It’s even more infuriating watching Draco’s attraction to their new potions professor when he knows his father won’t do anything about it.

“It was just a small incident,” Professor Ross says as Madam Promfrey bandages Scorpius’ hand. She’s being particularly gentle under the elder Malfoy’s gaze and Scorpius is grateful – the burn isn’t exactly pleasant, and the numbing potion hasn’t reached its full effect yet.

Scorpius watches Draco, who seems to be torn between watching his son and looking at Professor Ross, who Scorpius must admit is quite beautiful with her dark hair and pale skin. The Scottish accent doesn’t hurt either…

“It was my fault,” Scorpius mutters. Beside him, Albus nods, pleased that for once a potions explosion wasn’t his fault. He’s a bit sober, though, in his chair beside Scorpius’ cot, because he knows exactly how the accident happened.

Albus had been stirring the Draught of Peace, and everything had been going just fine until Scorpius misread one of the instructions to him. It took only a second for him to realise he’d misspoken, and the potion began to hiss and bubble and become temperamental. He had just enough time to shove Albus’ hands out of the way before it bubbled over onto his palm, burning straight through his glove and onto his skin.

Scorpius hoped they wouldn’t have to talk about it, and judging by the way Albus was carefully studying his shoes, he was fairly certain they wouldn’t.

Draco looks from Scorpius’ hand to Professor Ross, whose concern for her students is admirable.

“Albus, shouldn’t you be getting to class?” Professor Ross asks.

Albus’ green eyes flicker from her to Scorpius – lingering just long enough for Scorpius to know he hasn’t forgotten being shoved out of the way – and back again.

“But I thought I’d wait-”

“No ‘buts,’” Professor Ross says. “Besides, I have it on good authority that Professor McGonagall is planning a surprise exam tomorrow, and one of you should be there to get the notes today.”

Albus wrinkles his nose and looks back at Scorpius who nods.

“It’s not like I could write them anyway,” Scorpius says with a smile as Madam Pomfrey finishes wrapping his hand. He holds it up with a grimace. “It’s my right hand.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Albus mutters, defeated. He gets to his feet and straightens his robes. “Fine. But you know you can’t read my handwriting.”

“You’ll have to read it to me,” Scorpius says, though he knows very well he can decipher Albus’ sloppy handwriting. He’s been able to for over a year, but hasn’t owned up to it. He just likes listening to Albus read too much.

Albus claps him on the shoulder, letting his hand linger for just a second before slipping past Draco and Professor Ross and leaving the Hospital Wing. Scorpius watches as his robes disappear beyond the door before looking back to Draco, who is thanking Professor Ross for her quick response.

“These things happen,” Professor Ross says, her light tone a stark contrast to Draco’s intent gaze. “We just have to be prepared for them.”

Scorpius looks between them, his interest obvious and entirely ignored.

“Other than this,” Draco says, gesturing in Scorpius’ direction, “has my son been doing well in your class?”

“He’s one of the best students I have,” Professor Ross admits with a smile. Draco’s hand twitches at his side, and Scorpius watches as he folds them behind his back. “Though I’m not sure if it’s him that’s skilled or Potter. They’re inseparable.”

Draco glances in his direction, his gaze unreadable even for Scorpius, before looking back at Professor Ross.

“He did quite enjoy our potions and alchemy collection as a child and over the summers,” Draco says. “It’s quite substantial. There are some texts in the Malfoy library that are one-of-a-kind.”

“That sounds fascinating,” Professor Ross says.

“You’re welcome to browse it any time,” Draco says a bit too quickly. Scorpius bites the inside of his cheek to fight a smile.

“I may take you up on that,” Professor Ross says.

Say ‘I hope you do,’ Scorpius thinks, staring at his father. Set up a time. Do something!

“Well,” Draco says after a pause. “I’d best be going now that I know you’re okay.”

He smiles at Scorpius – that warm smile Scorpius knows is reserved for him alone – and pats his son’s ankle before stepping away.

“Stay here until that potion works,” Draco instructs. Scorpius gives him a single nod and watches as Draco gives a polite – albeit excessive – bow to Professor Ross.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” he says, letting formality intrude upon real human connection once again.

“And you, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Ross responds, amused.

Draco sweeps from the room without another word, and Scorpius watches Professor Ross as she watches him leave.

Well, that’s interesting, Scorpius thinks. Professor Ross turns back to him and he quickly arranges his face into a goofy smile, leaning back against the cot’s stiff pillows.

“Are you alright here, Malfoy?” she asks. From anyone else, it could have sounded condescending, but Scorpius is certain Professor Ross has never spoken to any of her students with anything less than kindness. He’s certain Severus Snape would be appalled by her kind demeanour in his classroom.

“I’ll be fine, Professor Ross,” Scorpius says with a wave of his hand that he immediately regrets. “And you should check out the collection. My father has spent a long time pulling it together – it’s one of his favourite hobbies. I’m sure he’d love to have someone appreciate it.”

Professor Ross smiles and nods noncommittally. “I’ll think about it, Mr. Malfoy.”

It’s not until Scorpius visits home a few weeks later in late January that he decides action must be taken.

“The Manor is just so big,” he whines, flopping down beside Albus on his bed. Albus sets his book side with a sight and looks down at Scorpius, whose legs are draped over the side of the bed and arms are sprawled out.

“He needs a girlfriend,” Scorpius decides aloud. “And I know he liked Professor Ross. Did you see the way he looked at her?”

“For the millionth time, yes,” Albus sighs. “But what can you do about it?”

“I don’t know,” Scorpius admits. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. But he asked about her when I had dinner with him last week.”

“Hmmm,” Albus hums. “Scorpius Malfoy rushing in without a plan? Shocking.”

“Hey!” Scorpius cries in mock offence. He reaches up to smack Albus on the arm but Albus catches his wrist gently and holds it, laughing.

Scorpius isn’t sure when they became like this – when Albus stopped whispering assurances to him when he panicked over looming exams in the library and began taking his hand instead, or when he stopped handing Albus the tea and breakfast and began pouring it for him – but he isn’t about to complain. Scorpius doesn’t understand it as Albus examines his previously-burned hand, but it brings back a familiar warmth in his stomach so he doesn’t ask questions.

One of these days, one of them is going to have to do something, Scorpius knows. They’ll have to address the little touches and longer looks, but for now… well, this isn’t bad.

“At least it didn’t scar,” Albus mumbles, though Scorpius knows Albus was aware it hadn’t scarred days ago when the bandage came off.

Scorpius looks up at him for a moment until Albus lets his hand go with a sigh.

“He just seems so lonely,” Scorpius says after a moment, folding his hands across his stomach.

“Why do you say that?”

“He was so happy when I came home – way too happy.”

“Maybe he’s just happy to see you,” Albus speculates. “Although I’m having trouble picturing your father being happy about anything.”

“And he was telling me all about the alchemical manuscripts he’s been reading,” Scorpius continued, “and how he’s re-investing in our private library.”

“And that makes you think he needs a girlfriend?”

“No, it makes me think he’s terribly lonely, Albus,” Scorpius says, looking up at him. “He’s been lonely for a long time, and he deserves to have someone special.”

Albus looks down at him and holds Scorpius’ gaze for a long moment – long enough for Scorpius’ worry for his father to fade.

“So what do you propose we do?” Albus asks, and for a moment Scorpius wonders if he’s talking about them. “I’m assuming you want to dosomething.”

“What, like a set-up?”

“That’s what you’re thinking of, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Scorpius all but sings. “Possibly.”

“Definitely.”

“Definitely,” Scorpius grins.

Albus sighs in resignation, but a moment later he slides down on his bed a bit so he can see Scorpius better.

“What do you suggest?”

Convincing Albus to forge Harry’s signature is easier than it should have been.

“He would have done it when he was our age,” Albus says with a dismissive wave of his hand, sitting at the back of the library. He dips his quill into a small bottle of ink and starts writing a letter from the great Harry Potter to the new Hogwarts potions master. Apparently, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has a tricky case and needs to consult an expert, and Professor Ross is the best one available. Mr. Potter doesn’t feel comfortable meeting her on Hogwarts grounds though – sensitive Ministry business and all that – so he’s requesting a meeting in Hogsmeade.

“Perfect,” Albus says, scratching his father’s autograph into the bottom of the letter. Scorpius stares in a bit of shock, in awe that they’re actually doing this and that Albus is willing to play along. He watches closely as Albus folds the letter with crooked creases and slides it into an envelope.

“What about the seal?”

Albus grins mischievously and Scorpius’ stomach does the warming thing again. Albus digs in his bag and withdraws a portion of red wax and a stamp. Scorpius snatches it from his hand an examines it.

“Dad alternates between using the Ministry seal and the Gryffindor one,” Albus says with a shrug. “No one questions his house loyalty and, well… he’s Harry Potter. He can do what he wants, which is what I’m betting on here.”

Scorpius grins back at Albus and watches as he seals the letter with the Gryffindor shield.

“Perfect.”

It takes a bit more precision than slipping a letter under Professor Ross’ door on February 13^th to get Draco Malfoy in the right place at the right time, but Scorpius knows his father better than anyone and is prepared to use his most effective card.

Himself.

The note is hastily written, and for effect Scorpius tosses a few carefully placed droplets of water on the ink to look like he was crying, or at the very least uncharacteristically reckless with his writing.

February 14

Dad,

Do you think you could come up to Hogwarts for dinner tonight? I really want to see you, but I know I need to stay here and study and can’t come home. There is a lot going on right now, but I did that thing I always do with Rose on Valentine’s Day, and I was really hopeful it would work this year, but she was really harsh and I just want to get out of the castle tonight. Do you think you could take me to Hogsmeade? I need a few things anyway but the next visit isn’t for another few weeks.

Love,

Scorpius

He grins at Albus, who has his chin resting comfortably on his shoulder while he writes – so close that Scorpius can smell his toothpaste.

“Perfect,” Albus whispers, and watches as Scorpius slides the parchment into one of his fancy black envelopes with the Malfoy crest embossed in shimmering silver ink in the corner.

“Indeed. Did Madam Puddifoot confirm?” Scorpius asks.

“Yes. I wrote to her and she said she’d have everything set up – you know, since you’re her favorite customer and all.”

“I’m sure it had nothing to do with your last name.”

Albus ruffles Scorpius’ hair and flops back onto his bed, smiling contentedly.

“And Professor Ross should be there about twenty minutes before you,” Albus says. His stomach grumbles loudly. “Something about scheming makes me hungry.”

“Me too,” Scorpius agrees. “Ready for some heart-shaped toast?”

Scorpius leaves Albus in the Slytherin common room just before dinner. It’s rare that anyone can find a moment entirely alone at Hogwarts – there are so many students and teachers that deserted corridors are hard to come by, but it’s that awkward hour between the last class and dinner when most students have retreated to their houses, and the teachers are likely enjoying a well-deserved drink after a long day of dealing with excuses for missing homework and panic over tests.

The atrium is silent, and Scorpius paces back and forth between the pillars and statues, hands folded behind his back. He’s changed out of his uniform and traded it for a pair of black trousers and a deep blue shirt, making sure his appearance is up to snuff for his father. Draco isn’t so vain these days but he is proper and Scorpius tries not to disappoint him.

He tries to ignore the enchanted cupid statue flying around just above his head, giggling and dropping pink heart-shaped confetti on him. If only he could get his hands on the person who placed them all around the castle…

“Scorpius.”

He turns at the sound of his name and sees Draco descending the staircase into the atrium at a decent clip, the tapping of his boots echoing off the walls. Scorpius can’t help smiling, but reminds himself that, until he gets Draco to Madame Puddifoot’s, he’s heartbroken. He brushes the small hearts from his shoulders and shakes them out of his hair as his father approaches.

“Thanks for coming,” Scorpius says, keeping his voice quiet.

“Of course,” Draco assures him. “You sounded quite distraught in your letter. Are you alright?”

“I’m better now,” Scorpius said. “She was just so… mean.”

The corner of Draco’s mouth quirks. It’s his 'of course she is’ face – the one he’s been giving Scorpius for years when he talks about Rose’s repeated rejections.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco asks. Scorpius lets out a long sigh that feels more dramatic than it is.

“No. Not right now,” he says. He has most of the story prepared – like last year’s Valentine’s Day rejection with just enough new material to keep it interesting.

Draco nods in understanding and gestures toward the castle’s massive doors. Scorpius tugs his robes back on and fastens them. It’s not until he wraps his scarf around his neck that he realizes it’s not his scarf at all – it’s Albus’ and it smells like him, which is an unintended comfort.

“Can we stop by Honeyduke’s?”

“Didn’t Rose return the chocolates again?” Draco asks, shouldering open the door.

“No,” Scorpius lies. For the last four years he’s sent a box of chocolates to Rose Granger-Weasley on the morning of Valentine’s Day with a handwritten request for a single date, and each year she finds a new way to reject him without fail. “This time she sent the box back empty.”

“Is that progress?” Draco asks, curious.

“No,” Scorpius says. “It’s spite.”

It’s cold on the path to Hogsmeade but the last snow has long since melted. Now it’s just bitter, and Draco and Scorpius walk close together, their faces covered with their scarves. Draco tries to shield his son from the wind, but finds that Scorpius has grown too tall and broad-shouldered, and he grumbles about being useless.

“Not useless,” Scorpius says, quickly removing Albus’ scarf from around his mouth. “I’m just too tall.”

It’s not until they get to Honeydukes – which is also covered in Valentine’s Day décor – that they speak again, and Scorpius has to remind himself to contain his excitement at the sight of the pepper imp display. He wants the pepper imps so much that he can almost forgive them for being 'special holiday edition’ and pink.

“It’s terribly bitter outside,” Draco says. “I don’t know why you wanted to leave the castle.”

“I needed a break,” Scorpius says, grabbing a box of imps and tucking it under his arm. He needs his hands free to grab some chocolate to fuel his upcoming study session. “And I didn’t want to have to see her at dinner. Besides, it’s Valentine’s Day, right? That can be about loving your family too.”

Draco smiles at him over a small tower of licorice snaps.

“Indeed.”

By the time they leave, Draco has bought him a mountain of sweets. Scorpius feels a bit guilty about taking advantage of his father’s pity, but remembers that he’ll share with Albus and some of the less-popular first years, and feels a bit better.

Draco takes him from shop to shop, reluctant to brave the cold, but pleased to see his son and be of some help. It’s not until Scorpius is accepting a bag of new quills and fresh notebooks (he does love the smell of untouched parchment) that he checks his watch and realises how late it’s gotten. He bites down on his lip as they move toward the door. He’s cutting it close on time.

“Do you want to eat at The Three Broomsticks?” Draco asks as they reach the door to the school supply shop, bracing for the cold once again.

“Oh,” Scorpius says, pretending to think. “No, I think… can we go to Madame Puddifoot’s? I know it’s not really dinner, but the tea is so good and last time I was there she had these cute little cakes…”

Scorpius makes a gesture to indicate exactly how little and cute the cakes were and Draco sighs, rubbing his face.

“If that’s what you want, sure,” he concedes, and Scorpius grins behind his back as they walk out the door again and into the main street. It only takes a few minutes to get from the shop to Madame Puddifoot’s, but it’s long enough for Scorpius’ hands to go numb again.

The shop is small and quaint and somewhat shabby – everything that Scorpius usually likes when he gets away from Hogwarts. Tonight there are a few couples from the village enjoying a cup of holiday tea, but Scorpius walks right past them towards the shop’s back room.

“Where are you going?” Draco hisses.

“Oh, I’m friendly with the pastry-maker,” Scorpius improvises. “I wonder if they have any fresh cakes…”

Draco grumbles something about being 'incorrigible’ and how Scorpius would one day be the most overweight Malfoy in history – nothing he hasn’t said before, so Scorpius ignores it and opens the door to the back room, gesturing Draco through. Draco walks past him, clearly expecting his son to follow. Scorpius catches only a glimpse of Professor Ross looking out the window with her back to the room and an elegant spread of tea and sandwiches, and Scorpius has to imagine the confused look on his father’s face when the door closes behind him without Scorpius inside.

Scorpius presses his ear to the door to listen, ignoring the awkward looks from the other patrons.

“Mr. Potter? Oh!”

Professor Ross gives a near squeak of surprise.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she says. “I’m not sure you’re supposed to be here – I’m supposed to be meeting someone on Ministry business.”

“Harry Potter?” Draco drawls and then sighs. “Miss Ross, I’m afraid you’ve likely been misled.”

“Pardon?”

There’s a beat and Scorpius knows his father is putting things together.

“My son – I knew something about that letter seemed strange,” Draco says to himself. Scorpius can hear him pacing. “I’m so sorry. I think my son decided to lure both of us here for a Valentine’s Day meeting.”

“I don’t follow,” said Professor Ross.

“My son has been adamant about my meeting new people, and I believe… well, I believe this is a setup.”

Albus appears from around the corner, walks to Scorpius’ side and presses his ear against the door too. Scorpius doesn’t have to question how he got there – the telltale lump of the Potters’ invisibility cloak shows through Albus’ jumper beneath his open coat. Albus flashes one of his conspiratorial grins at Scorpius, who shoves his shoulder just a bit.

“Your wife died a few years back, didn’t she?”

“Yes,” comes Draco’s voice. “She did.”

“Scorpius mentions her in passing sometimes,” Professor Ross says. Albus meets Scorpius’ eyes for just a second before Scorpius looks away. Albus squeezes his wrist in reassurance, pressing his ear back against the door.

Scorpius braces for Draco’s automatic and insufficient response.

“She was a lovely woman,” he says, just as Scorpius expected, to likely be followed with the customary piteous silence while Professor Ross considers the best way to say “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Perhaps you could tell me about her,” Professor Ross says after a moment. “And then tell me about your collection on potions. It seems quite a shame to let this lovely spread go to waste.”

“Very true, Professor Ross,” Draco says. Scorpius can hear his smile.

“Please, call me Iona.”

Scorpius grins and steps away from the door, hearing the scraping of chairs as Draco and Professor Ross take their seats.

“Mission accomplished?” Albus whispers.

“Mission accomplished,” Scorpius agrees.

“Even if it doesn’t become a thing,” Scorpius says, “I’m glad he’ll at least have gone on a single date.”

“Maybe it will break the ice for him,” Albus says, his teeth chattering by the time they reach the castle again. Though it’s perfectly feasible that Draco took both Scorpius and Albus up to Hogsmeade (they’ve left the cloak tucked away), Albus still looks wary as they pass through the main doors. The pair sticks close to each other for warmth and some shelter against the wind.

“Why didn’t you ask someone to be your Valentine?” Scorpius asks. It’s a question he should have asked for, but he needs a bit of assurance now.

“Didn’t want to,” Albus says, muffled by his scarf – well, Scorpius’ scarf. His eyes flicker back to Scorpius and then he quickly looks away. Scorpius looks at his shoes and grins as they re-enter the castle. He’s just about to suggest they go back to the common room since dinner is already over when a familiar voice echoes through the atrium.

“Hey, Bread Head!”

Albus groans as they see Rose exiting the Great Hall, a couple of her Gryffindor friends in tow. He wasn’t sure it was possible, but Scorpius thinks she’s gotten even more confident in the last few months since her Quidditch skills started winning games. She’s arrogant, but wears it so well.

“I’m going back to the common room.” Albus grumbles. “I can’t watch her do this to you again.”

Scorpius nods and watches as Albus makes a quick exit, heading towards the dungeons as Rose approaches with a lopsided grin and her arms folded. Her red hair is wild and her cheeks are pink like she’s just come off the pitch.

“How may I be of assistance?” Scorpius asks, folding his hands behind his back. Rose folds her arms and shifts one hip to the side with a friend at either arm.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” she announces.

“Indeed, it is,” Scorpius says. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“We have a tradition, Malfoy,” Rose says with the sarcastic grin she uses when they play their 'game.’ Scorpius doesn’t think it’s much of a game anymore, but doesn’t argue. “I get chocolates and the opportunity to turn you down. That’s been my gift the last few years.”

Scorpius just nods, wondering where she’s going with this.

“Well, where’s my box of chocolates, Bread Head?”

Scorpius smirks at her, thinking of Albus heading down to the dungeons. He knows his friend well – Albus will opt to shed his robes and change into something comfortable before starting his homework, and he’ll likely stretch out on his bed for a few moments before pulling out that potions essay (though Scorpius suspects they might get a bit of leniency from Professor Ross if her dinner with Draco goes well). While Rose taps her foot impatiently, waiting for an answer, Scorpius glances at his watch, wondering exactly how long it will take Albus to find the box of chocolates carefully tucked under his pillow.

He glances at her before walking backwards toward the dungeon corridor.

“Sorry,” he says with a smile. “I’ve got somewhere else to be.”

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #draco malfoy #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Tue, 14 Feb 2017 22:01:13

Sometimes there’s no need to say anything, because simply being there for each other speaks a thousand words and more. <3

by@plati-arts

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Tue, 14 Feb 2017 18:01:24

By@amazingdentist

Just something very short, Scorbus-y, and hopefully very sweet.

****

“Al-buss!” A familiar sing-song voice called, “It’s time to wake up!”

Albus grumbled, opening his eyes a fraction, “Do I have to?”

“Only if you want to spend Valentine’s day with a certain gorgeous blonde!”

“And who might that be?” Albus teased, a smirk forming across his sleepy features. It was soon wiped off when a weight suddenly dropped onto the mattress, almost landing on top of him. “Scorpius, please! I need my beauty sleep.” He whined jokingly, tilting his head to look at the other boy.

A moment passed before Scorpius replied, “I don’t think all the sleep in the world could make that face any more beautiful!”.

Albus rolled his eyes, but couldn’t resist returning Scorpius’ wide, soppy grin.

“Can we just stay here all day?” He asked, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s waist.

“Hmmm… that does sounds like a good option right now,” hummed Scorpius, nuzzling into Albus’ side and planting a kiss on his cheek, “but no – I have plans! We have plans, more importantly! Plans that don’t involve snuggling in bed all day – not that I don’t enjoy this, of course,”

Albus grunted in response, feeling Scorpius’ warmth disappear from his side and an insistent hand tugging him up and out of bed.

***

Once they had eaten breakfast, Albus found himself being pulled enthusiastically along the corridors of the vast castle. They eventually came to a stop in front of a grand set of double doors.

“The library?” Albus asked dubiously, “Scorp, if this is how you planned we would spend today, then I thoroughly regret agreeing to get out of bed,”

“Excuse me, would you rather spend all day sleeping than with me? And are you saying you dislike the library? I am shocked, Albus Severus!” Scorpius grinned, poking his boyfriend playfully, “I just need to pick up a few books – it shouldn’t take long.”

“Okay, nerd.” Albus teased as he followed Scorpius into the library.

As they wandered through the maze of shelves, Albus smiled, realising that no one else would have taken their Valentine’s date to the library, even briefly. Yet he couldn’t imagine it any other way – Scorpius’ little traditions had become his too, and he loved every one of them.

He watched as Scorpius halted, concentration clear on his face as he scanned the shelf in front of him. Slightly impatient, Albus was about to offer his help when the other boy let out a little yelp of delight, having located the book he was looking for. Albus’ heart soared at the expression of joy on Scorpius’ face, and he suddenly couldn’t wait for them to be out of the library.

***

“You know, I think we make a great couple, because you make everything so interesting. For example, I would never have chosen to read this book, and yet here I am listening to you read it out loud,” Albus declared, snuggling closer under Scorpius’ arm, “And I’m enjoying it! I thought you were the biggest nerd, but I’m not so sure now – maybe you’re rubbing off on me!”

He faked disgust and horror at his words, drawing a chuckle from Scorpius.

“Hmm,” Scorpius said, “I’m not so sure. I, personally, find that having you around can be rather… counterproductive. You’re very distracting, you know. And as for that second part, well, I’ve known it all along – you are a huge nerd, Albus,”

“A huge nerd that loves you,” Albus corrected, grinning warmly. Peppering his words with small kisses to Scorpius’ face, he continued, “Loves you very, very much.”

“This is what I mean! So distracting.” Despite his protests, however, Scorpius didn’t seem to mind. He lay down the book gently before turning his head to meet Albus’ lips, which tasted vaguely of the Honeyduke’s chocolates they had been consuming in copious amounts throughout the day.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Al.”

Tucked away in a quiet corner of Hogwarts, the two weren’t worried about prying eyes as they continued the kiss. Most of the school was out at Hogsmeade, but they were both glad they’d decided to spend the day in the castle instead.

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Tue, 14 Feb 2017 13:02:25

By@autumn-of-ilvermorny

Chocolate Cauldrons, Licorice Wands
Sugar Quills and Chocolate Charms

Fizzing Whizbees, Acid Pops
Pumpkin Fizz and Bertie Botts

Exploding Bon-Bons, Shock-o-Choc,
Chocoballs and Wizochoc

Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes
Ginger Newts and Jumping Snakes

Peppermint Toads, Chocolate Frogs
Lick'O'Rish Spiders and Flies of Fudge

Ice Mice, Bat’s Blood
Cockroach Clusters and Jelly Slugs

Mint Humbugs, Sugared Butterfly Wings
Sherbert Lemons and Mint Flossing Strings

Licorice Snaps, Sour Apple Bites
Crystallized Pineapple and Pink Coconut Ice

Glacial Snowflakes, Chocolate Rocks
No Melt Ice Cream and Mice Pops

Fizzy Wizzy, Sugar Straws
Sugar Hexes and Sweet Crystals

Treacle Fudge, Salt Water Taffy
Canary Creams and Ton-Tounge-Toffee

Puking Pastilles, Fever Fudge too
Nosebleed Nougat and U-No-Poo

Fainting Fancies, Hiccough Sweets
Lightning Bolt Shaped Dark Chocolate Covered Rice Crispy Treats

Edible Dark Marks, Glow in the Dark Gum
Blood-Flavoured Lollipops and Droobles Best Blowing Gum

Eyeball Bonanza, Choco-Loco
Chocolate Eggs and Hot Cocoa

Chocolate Skeletons, Jelly Skulls
Honeydukes Chocolate and Wrapped Caramels

Licorice Allsorts and Comfits
Pixie Puffs and Pepper Imps

Although the Potters are on sugar ban,
Of all the confections in the land:

Your friendship is my favourite treat,
Thank you for staying for my sweets!

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Mon, 13 Feb 2017 22:01:15

I thought the scene in CC when Scorpius and Albus get out of the lake was super adorable, and it works very well with their relationship and Valentine’s Day.

By@natmunart

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

Mon, 13 Feb 2017 18:01:08

By@albvsxscorpy

1.2k words, G rated

Scorpius is elated that his long-time crush agreed to be his Valentine, and he has the perfect gift for her…

Thank you to the amazing @autumn-of-ilvermorny for being my beta. Seriously, she’s awesome.

Scorpius was in an impeccable mood that day. Valentine’s had always been one of his favourite days of the year, for the frilly decorations, the abundance of sweets, and the lovely romantic puns made him giddy with joy. This year, however, was going to be his best Valentine’s yet, because he’d convinced Rose Granger-Weasley to be his Valentine. Even if Rose had imposed certain restrictions before finally agreeing, mainly “stay cool” and “don’t embarrass me”, Scorpius hoped that this was his chance to woo her.

He’d arranged for his dad to send him a giant box of chocolates from their favourite chocolatier in London, since an impromptu trip to their favourite chocolatier in Paris wasn’t feasible. Still, Scorpius was confident that the delicious taste would win her over, while the predictable nature of his gift wouldn’t overwhelm her.

Granted, a box of chocolates wasn’t his original gift idea for Rose, because Scorpius had never been one to do things the subtle way, but Albus had convinced him not to have 100 owls each deliver a rose to the Gryffindor table during the Valentine’s Day breakfast.

Nonetheless, Scorpius had spent a lot of time and effort to make his gift look extra special, by spending the entire morning decorating the chocolate box to perfection. He’d fiddled with ribbons and paper hearts in every shade of pink, to find the perfect balance between eclectic and refined in what, he hoped, translated to an aesthetic of delicate charm. The hardest part, though, was finding the perfect words to write in the card that would express how much he admired her without scaring her off. He’d tossed and turned all night thinking of how to convey his declaration to Rose. Finally, he’d settled on something simple with a romantic tone:

To the most special person I know,

You inspire me every day,

Thank you for being a part of my world,

Your Scorpius

They had planned to have dinner together at the Gryffindor table, where Scorpius would have to not only impress her but her friends as well.

He walked into the dorm he shared with his fellow fifth year Slytherins to prepare for his Valentine’s Day date.

“Oh, hi Scorp, thanks for the chocolates!” said Albus enthusiastically.

Scorpius stood at the entrance of their dorm, frozen. He felt the blood rushing from his face as he watched his best friend pop another chocolate in his mouth, empty wrappers littering the floor around his bed.

“What’s wrong?” sputtered Albus, his mouth full of chocolate, a worried frown suddenly appearing on his face.

“Th-those were for Rose…” replied Scorpius, still in shock.

“Oh… Oh!! I’m so sorry mate, they were on my bed I thought… I thought they were for me.”

Scorpius buried his face in his hands, remembering how he had left the box on his friend’s neatly made bed before heading down to breakfast that morning, since his own always looked like a tornado had just passed through.

“But I wrote a note…” mumbled a discouraged Scorpius.

“The note wasn’t addressed to anyone, I just assumed…” said Albus sheepishly. “I-I thought it was a nice sentiment on your part,” he finished, his eyes fixed on his socks.

Scorpius observed his friend, whose deep red cheeks betrayed how embarrassed he was about the whole situation. There was no malice in his eyes, only guilt, and Scorpius knew he couldn’t be angry with him for an honest mistake.

“What am I going to do now?” lamented Scorpius, taking in the desolate sight of the half-empty chocolate box, “I’m supposed to be meeting Rose for lunch in 20 minutes!”

“Here,” answered Albus, grabbing a small brown package from his bedside table. “You can give her the gift I was going to give you. I mean, it’s only fair after I destroyed your gift.”

“You got me a gift?” said Scorpius incredulously, reaching for the package Albus was handing him. It was definitely a book, that much Scorpius could tell just by looking at it, and it was wrapped in regular brown packaging paper carefully tied together with twine and a small, red bow. It was heavier than he had anticipated, and directly on the packaging paper, Albus had scribbled a note:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I thought books were lame,

But then I met you.

Thanks dork,

Albus

“But… I thought you hated Valentine’s Day?” was all Scorpius could think of saying, touched and a little surprised by his best friend’s words.

“I do, it’s a stupid consumerist holiday meant to make single people feel bad, but I know it makes you really happy, so…” said Albus, looking back down to his feet, as if his socks had suddenly become fascinating.

“Can I open it?” asked Scorpius.

Albus shrugged in response: “If you want to.”

Scorpius tore open the paper wrapping to reveal a blood red cover with the title of the book stamped in black gothic letters: A Compendium of Romantic Poetry. Scorpius quickly thumbed through the table of contents, revealing that it included the works of muggle poets of the Romantic era such as Edgar Allen Poe, Samuel Coleridge and Percy Shelly.

“Thank you Albus, this is so nice,” said Scorpius, a bright smile on his face. “You know these aren’t romantic poems in the lovey-dovey sense, right?”

“I knew you’d get it,” replied Albus, smiling back.

Scorpius studied his friend for a moment, touched by the thoughtfulness of his gift. He suddenly felt inadequate, for he hadn’t even thought of getting Albus a gift. Yet, Albus was the one with whom he spent most of his time with, the one with whom he passed notes in class, and with whom he laughed on a daily basis. Instead, he had spent all night thinking of thousands of words to write for Rose, in the hopes they would show how much he appreciated her. In truth, all those words could easily apply to Albus, and even if he combined them all they would not come close to encompassing how much he truly valued his best friend.

Albus cleared his throat, pulling Scorpius out of his train of thought.

“Do-do you think Rose would get it too?” said Albus, looking embarrassed again.

“Probably not, I think I’d better hold on to it,” replied Scorpius, as he walked over to Albus’s bed and jumped on it.

“What are you going to do about Rose?” inquired Albus.

“I think I’ll send her a note to tell her I’m feeling somewhat unwell and would hate to share my sickness with her. I should probably stay in bed for awhile,” said Scorpius as he plopped a chocolate in his mouth. “Mmhm, Albus, these are good, you should really have some of these.”

Albus grinned and joined his friend on his bed. “Would you feel better if I read you some gory poems?” he said, picking up Scorpius’s new book.

“That would be lovely, said Scorpius approvingly. “Maybe the macabre will scare the illness right out of me. Thank you, Albus.”

As he listened to his friend’s voice croon over the prose of Muggle literary gems, he thought that this year was truly the best Valentine’s Day yet.

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine #submission

#harry potter and the cursed child #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine

Mon, 13 Feb 2017 13:02:19

I hope you’re all ready for lots of amazing Valentine’s art, fic, poetry, and playlists (we’ve got a great assortment this time).

Posting begins 13th February, and will continue until 17th February. There will be three posts a day, at 1pm, 6pm, and 10pm GMT, so make sure to check back in!

On behalf of all the contributors, we hope you enjoy! <3

Sun, 12 Feb 2017 22:55:59

This is your very last chance to sign up to contribute to the advent calendar. Sign ups close in two hours, at 23:59 GMT.

If you still want to take part, send us an ask saying whether you want to write a fic or make some art, along with any dates you can’t do. We’d love for everyone to take part, and you don’t need to have a popular blog or even have published anything before to sign up.

#harry potter and the cursed child #scorbus #scorose #drastoria #romione #harry potter #scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #draco malfoy #rose granger weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #ginny potter #keep the secrets #hpcc valentine

Wed, 25 Jan 2017 22:00:59

There are only 48 hours left to sign up! Please send us an ask before midnight GMT on Wednesday if you’d like to contribute art or a fic, or if you’re willing to help beta. We’d love to have you involved. If you have any questions or hesitations just get in touch!

Also, if you have any prompts or pairings you’d like to see, please send them in. Remember to make them Valentine’s Day themed and HPCC related. The more creative the better.

We look forward to hearing from you soon!