FIC: Leaves and Summer Eaves | AS/S | R

2009-05-07T19:39:40Z

Title: Leaves and Summer Eaves
Author: Arsinia
Rating: R
Pairing(s): AS/S
Word Count: 4345 so far… to be continued
Disclaimer: Characters, universe, and merchandising rights all belong to the lovely JK Rowling. I have no claim to the Harry Potter canon.
Warnings: Language, softcore homoerotica, possible grammatical errors, a series of bad anagrams.
Summary: Albus has an unwelcome visitor. Scorpius has sweaty palms. Summer slavery, exasperating siblings, astronomy and Bertie Botts.

Notes: My first next generation fic. My first fic of any kind in a few years, actually. So, constructive criticism is very welcome. Flame away if you feel it’s necessary, and remember: your reviews sustain me.

Thanks to BetweenTheLines for the quick Beta and very kind encouragement.

The song Scorpius mumbles is "Marquee Moon" by Television [who are brilliant].

PART ONE

Albus stood in front of the kitchen sink, up to his elbows in soapy water and frowning. Muggle labour, his father had told him, was very character building. Albus had the distinct feeling they were trying to make the most of his last year with underage magic restrictions, and enjoying it a bit too much.

Since school finished a month ago, he’d painted the chicken coop, reupholstered the sofa, de-gnomed the garden countless times and pulled what was surely the entirety of H. L. Gigglepot’s Magical Flora of the British Isles out of the daffodil beds. James had, predictably, hung about to laugh, eat ice cream and rally the gnomes while his back was turned.

Albus had aches, blisters and tiny teeth marks around his ankles, but his toil would not be in vain. In return for this summer of abject slavery, his parents had promised him a Lightening Bolt Mark II for the next Quidditch season.

“Character building…” Albus muttered, as he scratched a piece of gum off Lily’s lunch plate. “What a load of pixie shit.”

“What was that, Al?” Ginny poked her head through the door; hand on hip and her best Molly frown in place.

Albus smiled sweetly. “Nothing, Mumsy. I was just analysing Dad’s domestic labour policy. I think I’ll bring it up with Aunt Hermione. We can form C.H.U.C.K. – Community Hindering Underaged Child Kruelty.”

Ginny replied with a smile. “Cruelty is spelt with a C, darling. And hurry up with those dishes; I need to put dinner on.”

Al flicked the offending gum at Lily’s cat and sighed. Mum was taking the season off coaching the Holyhead Harpies, ostensibly to write a biography on Gwendolyn Morgan. James and Albus suspected it had more to do with the new appointment of Sally Wadcock as team captain; she and Ginny had had some loud and rather public disagreements the previous year. Al missed having Grandpa as their summer supervisor. He thought wistfully of an afternoon spent trying to hook a DVD player up to Grandpa’s new microwave, and train spotting conspicuously at the village station.

A loud woosh! announced Dad’s arrival home. He emerged, coughing, from the fireplace.

“Hey, Al. Did you have fun today?”

“Well, James is at Horton’s for a few days so yeah, it was fantastic.”

“Horton?” Harry frowned. “Oh! You mean Hamish. Really Al, I know house rivalry is traditional, but it is really necessary to call all Gryffindors by surname only? Including cousin Hugo?”

“Hugo Weasley is a complete asshat.” Al stacked the last dish and pulled the plug out with relish. He turned around to look at his Dad, who was frowning. “Don’t be such a hypocrite. As if you don’t say worse about your cousin. How was work anyway? I see the stress has finally made your hair turn white. And I wasn’t the culprit? How unexpected.”

Harry looked confused, then grinned and quickly brushed the grey ash out of his ludicrously messy black mop. “You know, I’d be angry if you didn’t remind me so much of your Mum at your age.” Harry threw his cloak over a chair and walked over to fill the kettle. “Do you want a cuppa?”

Al stared at his pruny hands and wrinkled his nose. “Nah. I’m going upstairs to read the new Broomsticks and Bludgers.”

“Ok. On your way past the study can you let Ginny know we’re having guests after dinner? Unspeakable Malfoy is coming by to talk about security for the European League Peace Conference. We’re worried about possible attacks by vampire insurgents from Finland.”

“Mr Malfoy is coming around? Remind me to depart directly after dinner. I can’t stand the tension.”

Harry laughed, then caught himself and tried to cover it with a cough. “Mr Malfoy and I are grown adults, Al. We harbour only feelings of mutual respect and professional civility towards one another.”

“I know I can’t see your face because you’re peering into the teapot, but I can still tell you’re grinning, Dad.”

This time Harry let himself laugh. “Yeah, well… do as I say not as I do? Anyway, I told him to bring his son Scorpius around as well. He must get pretty bored hanging around Malfoy Manor by himself all summer. You two are friends, right?”

Al froze, horrified. “WHAT!? No way, Dad. There is no way I’m having Scorpius bloody Malfoy at my house. He’s a total weirdo.”

Again, Harry looked confused. “Isn’t he in your dorm?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t stop him being a freak. He’s social poison, Dad.”

“That’s an awful thing to say. Do any of the guys talk to him?”

“Nobody talks to Scorpius Malfoy. He’s a bloody pariah. He’s like the AIDS of Slytherin; anybody who associated with him would suffer highly contagious social death.”

Harry looked shocked. “Albus Severus Potter! That’s terrible. How would you feel, if you spent six years being ignored by people who slept in the same damn dorm as you? Being a teenager is hard enough without having to put up with all that... just because his family had ties to Voldemort.”

Al snorted. “That’s ridiculous. It’s got nothing to do with his family being Death Eaters. He’s just weird and unfriendly. Really weird. Well, you’ll see anyway.”

Harry looked stern. “Albus, you will be polite and friendly to that boy. I’m sure even you can manage to be polite for a few hours.”

Al slumped. “Yes Dad. I’ll play nice. You should tell Lily; she’s got a shocking crush on him. She’ll want at least two hours notice to pick an outfit and giggle.”

Harry blanched. “Isn’t your sister a bit young for that?”

Ha! What were you doing at her age then? I seem to remember Mum talking about some hussy called Cho when she had too much champagne at Teddy’s wedding.” he smirked at his Dad, who coughed and looked uncomfortable. “On that note, I’ll be making my merry way upstairs now, to hide in my room and mourn my fate.”

Al strolled out of the kitchen just as Lily ran in. She paused at the door to stick her tongue out at him.

“Hey Lils, ask Dad who’s coming around for dinner.”

He walked out to avoid to her shrill giggling. It caught up with him on the stairs, along with a piercing shriek before she rushed into the study to floo call Cyrrus about possible ensembles and complimentary eye shadow. Al slumped further and stamped upstairs to his room.

***

There was a soft puff of air as two tall figures flooed into the Potter’s kitchen. Harry looked up, inwardly cursing their composure. After all these years, he still hadn’t mastered a graceful floo entry.

Draco Malfoy stepped out of the fireplace, brushing off his dark business suit. Muggle clothes were an affectation adopted by many previously Dark families, who tried to distance themselves from their questionable backgrounds wherever possible.

Harry almost burst out laughing when he looked at the youngest Malfoy. Perhaps the family had gone a little to far with his politically correct induction into Muggle culture. Scorpius was wearing heavy boots, worn jeans and a Siouxsie Sioux t-shirt. He had untidy blond hair and a doleful expression. Harry could see why he had problems at school; he reminded Harry of young muggles he saw in London. The concept of youth subcultures hadn’t really hit the wizarding world.

Harry had obviously left his response too late. Draco was giving him a challenging glare. “Evening, Potter. This is my son, Scorpius.”

“Um.. Hi.” said Harry, articulately. “Nice to meet you. I’ll just let Albus know you’re here.” He ducked his head out the door and yelled, “HEY AL, THE MALFOYS ARE HERE.” He turned around in time to see Draco wincing. To hell with that; he wouldn’t apologise for his manners in his own house.

Awkwardness reigned for a few moments. Albus slunk in, like a condemned man walking to the noose. The tension increased. Harry elbowed Al as subtly as possible, which was about as obvious as three-ton Chinese Fireball loose in Oxford Street. “Hello Scorpius.” he droned. “It’s just lovely to see you.” That earned him a sharp glare.

“Hello Albus.” The other boy sounded no more enthusiastic, not raising his eyes from their intense analysis of his shoelaces. Harry was slightly shocked by his manner; he was quiet, meek and nothing like his father at that age.

He coughed to clear the tension. “Well, why don’t you and Scorpius go hang out in your room, Al.”

“Yeah, ok.” Al turned to plod back upstairs. “Come on, then.”

Scorpius followed, dragging his feet.

***

Scorpius stared down at his hands, and inwardly cringed. If this was any more fucking awkward he’d probably spontaneously combust, leaving a permanent scorch mark in Albus fucking Potter’s stupid blue carpet. How embarrassing.

Scorpius Malfoy was clever, rich and quite good looking. These traits, added together, usually made one respected and well liked. He had, however, developed some very individual Scorpius element that negated all three positive qualities and resulted in complete social ostracism. He was well aware that he had not been blessed with natural people skills, charisma or the ability to ‘fit in with the kids’. Conversation made him extremely nervous, which made his palms sweat, which they were doing as he stood in the middle of Albus’ room waiting for him to say something.

“Sooo…” Albus groped for words. It wasn’t that they were hostile towards one another. But six years of silence had accumulated to make things incredibly uncomfortable between Scorpius and the other four boys in their dorm, Al included. “How’s your summer going then?”

“Fine. And yours?”

“Mum and Dad are making me renovate half the bloody county as a trade for a new Lightening Bolt.” Scorpius merely nodded, so Al pushed on. Quidditch was, after all, a fairly neutral topic. “So, who do you think will win the Cup this year?”

Scorpius simply shrugged. In six years of schooling he hadn’t attended so much as one Quidditch game. And that finished that line of conversation. Both boys stood for a minute, shuffling their feed and not looking each other in the eye. Then Al struck on inspiration. “Hey! Do you want a glass of water, or tea, or whatever?”

Scorpius’ relief was palpable. “Yes, absolutely! Anything… actually, Earl Grey please. Milk, no sugar.”

“Sure, sure. You wait here.” he offered eagerly. “Just do whatever.” Al strode out of the room, turned the corner and slowed down considerably. He didn’t know what the record was for longest time to make a cup of tea, but he was going to damn well break it!

***

Draco frowned across the table. “Stop fucking smirking, Potter. It’s clashes with your stupid glasses.”

Harry laughed. “Sorry, Malfoy. I guess I just find it a little ironic to see a Malfoy in a muggle band shirt. I wasn’t exactly expecting it.”

Draco sighed. “Yeah.. Father isn’t particularly chuffed about it. They don’t get along. Scorpius doesn’t get along with a lot of people, actually.”

“So Al told me. Funny, actually. I guess I’d always assumed they were friendly acquaintances. Now that I think about it though… Al’s never talked about your kid much before.”

Draco grimaced. “Really? Scorpius talks about Albus all the bloody time. His letters home are all ‘Albus Potter refused to sit next to me in Charms’ ‘Albus Potter’s going out with Nell Gribbly’ ‘Albus Potter scored higher than me in our Transfiguration term final’. Merlin, it’s boring.”

Harry drained the last of his tea. “Speaking of boring, we should get into that work.” He placed the two empty mugs in the bottom of the sink, and rubbed his face. “Goddamn vampires. Follow me to the study then.”

Albus ducked behind the door as the two men walked past. He felt vaguely uncomfortable and flushed at the thought of Scorpius Malfoy discussing him at home. Fucking weirdo.

***

Scorpius sat on the edge of Albus’ bed, humming. “Da dum, da dah.. There I stand neath the marquee moon… hesitating.” The door opened and he jumped, blushing with embarrassment.

A small, red headed girl stood in the doorway. Scorpius recognised her as Lily Potter; he seemed to walk by her a lot at the library. “Hello Lily.”

She giggled and stammered. “Hi, Sc-Scorpius. Um… how’s your summer going?” At least she seemed more nervous than he was; he relaxed slightly.

“Fine.” She waited; apparently something more was required. “I’ve just been hanging about the Manor, avoiding Grandfather and trying not to get sunburnt.”

Lily smiled nervously. “Oh, you don’t want to end up with freckles like me. You.. you’ve got lovely pale skin.” She blushed again and ducked her head. God, girls at school seem to blush a lot.

“So... what have you been doing?”

“Oh, you know, owling my friends, watching Al and James fight, a bit of Quidditch with my cousins.” The tension in the room was slowly diminishing. “When do you think you’ll hear back about your OWLS?”

“Not until August, I guess.”

“Are you worried? Because, you know, you really shouldn’t be.” Lily smiled at him earnestly. “Al once said you were the smartest Slytherin in your year.”

Scorpius coughed, blushed and felt his palms prickle with sweat. “Umm…” His awkward response was cut off as Albus trudged back into the room with two mugs. He started when he saw Lily in his room, slightly over-dressed and blushing profusely. Hot tea slopped onto his hands. “Shit.” Al frowned, then held out one mug. “Here’s your tea. What are you two talking about anyway?” He accused.

Scorpius looked awkward, and rather red in the face. Lily looked at him with adoring, and very sickening, puppy dog eyes. “I was just telling Scorpius that I think he’s awfully clever.” She put her hand on the blond boy’s shoulder and turned back to Al. “Being clever is far more important than just being good at Quidditch, you know.”

Al glared at her hand and felt unaccountably angry. “Piss off, Lil. What would you know about it anyway? I guess I’ll just leave you two simpering fucking love birds alone then. See you at dinner, Malfoy.” He turned on his heel and stormed out. Flounced even, though he didn’t want to consider the implications of possible flouncing.

***

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Albus, Lily and Scorpius had chosen seats as far from each other as possible and were alternating between blushing, scowling and staring at their cutlery. The occasion thud and glare implied that Lily was also kicking Al in the shin intermittently. Harry, Draco and Ginny pursued casual conversation with impressive fortitude.

“So, how is .. er .. Daphne?” Ginny ventured.

“Astoria, actually.” Draco sounded amused, rather than angry. “And she’s fine. She’s in Provence writing a paper on the magical properties of lavender.”

“Oh.. how interesting.”

“Boring as hell, as far as I can see. Though she does seem to find the strangest things fascinating.” He glanced wryly at his son. “Apparently, it’s genetic.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what do you do to keep yourself entertained, Scorpius?”

All heads turned to him. Scorpius could feel the weight of ten eyes staring expectantly, making his palms and neck prickle. He thought wistfully of his very private, very empty room at the Manor.

“Well…” Scorpius tugged and twisted at the napkin in his lap. “I guess I read a lot. And I inherited an excellent Muggle record collection that was once Mr Snape’s… I suppose it must be very out of date though. And sometimes I play anagram Scrabble with Biggles… he’s our old House Elf, retired now, but he really slaughters me sometimes.” He trundled to a stop and waited for some response.

“Well,” spoke Ginny finally “That sounds just lovely..”

Albus didn’t quite manage to cover his resulting snort. This time Harry kicked him under the table. Scorpius shrunk back into his seat.

***

Al rubbed his shins and frowned. Surely there was a less painful way to notify somebody of their social faux pas? He made a mental note to wear shorts the following day, all the better to display his wounds and complain.

He was sitting on his school trunk flicking through back issues of Which Broomstick? and trying to pretend Scorpius Malfoy wasn’t in the same room as him. The other boy was sitting in his Muggle spinning chair [a Christmas gift from Grandpa], staring at his boots as he slowly pushed himself in circles. This situation could have dragged on for the rest of the evening, had not Lily interfered.

“Hello.” She called through the door. “I was just wondering if Scorpius wanted to come downstairs and listen to the Wireless with me?”

Scorpius froze. Albus scowled. Of course, he had to give her full points for persistence in the face of indifference. He looked over at the awkward blond boy and felt a pang of sympathy; he had the expression of a trapped rat.

“Pssst!” Al gestured towards the open window and scrambled through it, climbing onto the kitchen roof. Scorpius shot him a grateful look and followed, stepping nimbly onto the ridge. Al led the way up past the attic windows to a small nook hidden between two chimneys, and plonked himself down against the brickwork.

Scorpius leant against one chimney and stared out across the Potters’ garden and into the woodland beyond. It was so different to the manicured parterres at the Manor, or the intimidating oaks of the Forbidden Forest. Overheard, a thin moon grinned at him and glinted off the treetops. He stood there for a long time; staring and scratching at the brick grouting with his fingertips.

“It’s really lovely up here.” he spoke. “Is this where you come to be by yourself? I have some rather good hiding spots at the Manor, but nothing as pretty as this. I tried to climb up to the roof once, but it’s warded. Apparently there are some pretty nasty hexes up there… from the War.”

He glanced across. Albus was staring at him. Scorpius flushed with embarrassment, and turned back to the garden.

Al kept staring. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular really. Scorpius Malfoy was so pale! He knew that already, of course, but it seemed more obvious up here in the dark. Scorpius’ fair head and white arms were outlined against dark bricks and his black cotton t-shirt. What little light there was reflected off his skin blindingly.

He’d never noticed before, but Malfoy was a chronic fidgetter. One hand was picking at grooves in the chimney and the other he was clenching and unclenching, rubbing his fingers together then digging them into his palm. Al looked back up to his face and observed that he was also chewing on his bottom lip. These were typical signs of anxiety. Al recognised them from his pre-Hogwarts days, when he’d been significantly less self-assured.

He felt that pang of sympathy again.

“So..” he asked slowly. “Which one is an anagram? I always get those and acronyms confused.”

Scorpius startled slightly before responding. “Acronyms are abbreviations. Like the Wizarding Wireless Network; WWN. Anagrams are when you switch the letters around to make a new word or sentence. Like… ah… Beck Grinshoo. Shift the letters around: Shocking Bore.”

Al burst out laughing. Beck was a particularly obnoxious Ravenclaw girl in their Transfiguration class. She seemed to take great pleasure in interrupting lectures to argue theory with Professor Hoople. At length.

Scorpius grinned back and unclenched his hands. Al tilted his head back to smile up at him.

“You have really straight teeth, Albus.”

“You say some seriously irrelevant shit, Scorpius.”

The blond boy looked back at his shoes, hair falling into his eyes and mumbled, “Sorry.”

Albus laughed again. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s actually pretty funny.”

“Oh. Then thanks, I guess?”

“Anytime. So, have you got any more anagrams?”

“Yeah, loads. Nothing else to do in History of Magic.” Scorpius bit his lip for a second as he thought. “Ok, Lucia Druttors. Ludicrous Tart.”

Al frowned. “Hey, I went out with her for a bit last year.”

“So did everybody else."

Al certainly couldn’t contradict that. He scratched his nose in thought. “Do you want some Every Flavour Beans? I keep a stash up here to sustain me when James’ idiot girlfriend is over.”

Shrug. “Sure."

Al rummaged around behind some piping and pulled out a sealed bag of sweets. He grabbed a handful and threw the remainder to the other boy. Scorpius slid down to sit on the roof, his back against the chimney and long legs stretched out.

Al made a face. “Eugtch! Ants. What have you got?”

“Ink. What do you think this yellow one is?”

“Dunno. Chuck it here.” Pause. Chew. “Corn. I don’t think I want to know what this one is.” The bean in his hand was so violently pink it almost pulsed.

“I’ll try it.” Pause. Chew. “Oh. Just lipstick.”

“Yeah? How do you know what that tastes like then?” Al waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Has Lucia been broadening her range recently?”

Scorpius made a face. “Oh gross.. I wouldn’t touch her with an eleven foot pole. Actually, I just tried Mum’s on once.”

“That’s fucking weird.”

“Not as weird as that pair of Julie’s knickers Bole keeps under his pillow.”

“… ok, not as weird as that. Bole’s a pervert.” Al looked down, then glanced up through his dark fringe. “Did it look any good?"

Scorpius stared for a moment before answering. “Not really. I couldn’t get the edges neat, and apparently pink isn’t my colour. I’m too pale, I suppose.”

“If by pale you mean damn near translucent, then yes. I agree.” Al laughed then flinched as a volley of Bertie Bott’s ricocheted off his head. “Sensitive, huh?”

“Nah, not when the insult comes from some dickhead with sweets in his hair.” He grinned at Albus, whose hands had flown to his head and were busy shaking colourful beans into his lap.

The two boys settled down after that, and spent a lazy half hour chewing and staring into the sky. Albus, who was quite good at Astronomy, pointed out various constellations while Scorpius regaled him with tales of Malfoy Manor’s remnant curses and general curio. Eventually, the sound of parental voices boomed up from the kitchen. “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, you come here this bloody instant!”

“I guess that’s my cue to leave…” Scorpius stood up and brushed himself off. He felt a sharp stab of regret. The sweating in his palms had long since ceased, and he’d actually been... enjoying himself? Albus Potter had been having an actual conversation with him. Up here on the roof the regular world had been briefly suspended, replaced by Astronomy, sweets and comfortable companionship. He was loath to depart.

Albus took the pale hand offered to him and was hoisted to his feet. Scorpius’s fingers were long and soft, particularly compared to his own Quidditch callused palms. They were, possibly, even softer than Lucia’s. Al realised he’d held on for longer than was strictly necessary and dropped the hand like lead.

“Um, thanks for coming around. I actually had pretty good time tonight.”

Scorpius smiled back at him. “Yeah, me too.” His forehead creased. “Hang on, you missed a Bertie Bott’s. Stay still for a moment…” Al paused, and held his breath as the other boy reached out with one long arm. He heard the soft rustle of his own hair and the arm withdrew. Scorpius popped the tiny sweet into his mouth, chewed and grinned.

“Caramel.”

Scorpius stood like that for half a moment, still grinning, then turned to climb back over the crest of the roof. Albus was left with the impression of very white teeth between a set of smiling lips. A puff of warm summer wind wooshed past and he rubbed his goosebumps.

***

“Thank-you very much for dinner, Mrs Potter.”

“Oh that’s absolutely fine.”

“Yes, thank-you for your hospitality, Potter.” Scorpius’s father addressed the other man. “Though I still think you’re mad if you expect co-operation from the Finnish government. They’re up to their neck, if you ask me...”

“Which I didn’t!” The famous green eyes glinted. “Just because you had that ‘run in’ with a Scandinavian Auror regarding Bletchley’s buck’s party…”

“For the last time, you bloody prude, we had no idea those were restricted…”

Ginner coughed loudly. “Well, look at the time… we should all be in bed. Goodnight Draco, Scorpius.”

Scorpius and his father took a pinch of Floo powder each and were about to depart when Al crashed into the room. Everybody stared at him.

“Mr Malfoy! I was just wondering…” he ran one hand through his messy hair. “If it’s ok with you, maybe Scorpius could come around again tomorrow night?” He looked at the blond boy. “You could even stay for a couple of days, if you want.” Al’s voice wavered, the last words trailing off into a question.

A swell of happiness rose in Scorpius’s chest. “Yeah! That sounds great.”

Ginny looked across at him warmly. “I’ll Floo your father in the morning to sort out the details.”

After the Malfoys left, Al sat at the table smiling and watched the ash settle in the fireplace.

END PART ONE
To be continued…

Arsinia

Writer's Block :(

Writer's Block: Places to Lay Your Head

Productive, but in all the right ways.

Exams = Bleh

FIC: Leaves and Summer Eaves | AS/S | R

HTM.. what?