Chapter 3
Albus Potter stretched in the overgrown grass as it swayed in the late summer breeze. The sun beamed down on his bronze skin, leaving him feeling pleasantly warm. A tousled crown of jet-black hair sat disobediently upon his head, a stray coil falling in front of his eyes at the loll of his head. He absently flicked away the strand before running a finger across his chapped lips in meaningless thought. His face stung slightly, and his skin was permanently flushed from a soon-to-be sunburn.
People always exclaimed that he was the carbon footprint of his father, aside from freckles that stippled across any skin exposed to the sun. Yet Albus wished his looks belonged to himself.
The summer was nearing an end, and with everyone preparing for Teddy Lupin's upcoming wedding, solitude was a welcomed rarity.
Albus inhaled the fresh scent of earth and the flowers that grew wildly around the Potter house. The smell reminded Albus of Scorpius, his best friend, who always smelled of the garden. The thought made a smile tug at his lips. He missed his best friend dearly. Very dearly.
The only sounds audible were the chirping crickets and the tame rustling of leaves. That was until Albus heard boisterous stomping, the sound fusillading as the figure neared.
“Al-Albus, get the fuck up! You're late for tea. Again. I stood, calling your name for a good five minutes."
Albus opened his eyes to see an annoyed James looming over him.
“Oops,” Albus said with false sincerity.
James wiped the perspiration beading on his forehead. “I almost had a heat stroke running over here, oh Merlin. You might have to carry me back.”
Albus rolled his eyes and stood. “No one asked you to run.” He brushed his khakis before adding, “You're too big to carry; I’d have to drag you back.”
“It’s muscle mass, Al,” James corrected, flexing his annoyingly large arms, eyebrows wiggling. Damn beaters and their physiques. “Not that you’d know."
Albus rolled his eyes.
*****
Harry hummed as he plated supper, spooning steaming curry and rice into wheel-thrown bowls of various colours. He brushed a pesky curl of greying hair from his eyes with his forearm (he needed to work on his bun-making ability) before carrying a few bowls into the dining room. Ginny was pulling a glass from the cabinet and stopped him for a quick kiss.
Albus settled into his chair as Harry placed supper in front of him. James was seated across from him, already tucking into his dinner. Lily was beside him, groaning as she smelled the curry, her face inches from smashing into her food before accepting the naan Ginny offered her.
“Are you all packed?” Ginny questioned.
The three kids hum in agreement.
“Really, James?” Ginny quirked an eyebrow at her oldest.
James huffed, "Well, not completely, but we have tomorrow too, so I’ll finish it sometime before then. No need to worry, Mum."
“Whatever you say,” Ginny sighed, shaking her head hopelessly.
The family chatted, talking about the upcoming wedding, the impending school year, and this year’s quidditch prospects. Near the end of supper, the phone rang, and Harry, still working on his second bowl, shot her a pleading look, hunching over his bowl with a full mouth. Ginny rolled her eyes and dragged herself into the lounge to answer it. Hermione had convinced them to buy a muggle phone, so an obsolete butter-yellow telephone now hung on their wall, apparently similar to the ones Harry had growing up.
Ginny picked up the phone, twirling the cord around her finger. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hello, it’s Andromeda.”
Ginny blinked and straightened, slightly embarrassed about her casualty. She had assumed it would be Hermione, who preferred calling on the phone to floo.
"Oh, hello, Andy. How’s it going? Everything alright?”
The voice sighed. “It's going. I forgot how time-consuming weddings are.”
Ginny laughed. “You tell me. I’ll make sure to remind my other kids that eloping is always an option.”
“Ha, Fleur would have my head. Anyway, I got a call from Draco Malfoy—I assume you know of him?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. Oh, she knew of him.
“Something came up with his work? I’m not really sure, but his son needed a place to stay until his departure for Hogwarts. Draco wasn’t aware of Teddy’s wedding, but I couldn’t say no. Scorpius is the sweetest kid; it's hard to believe he’s a Black. Anyway, he mentioned he and Albus are close.”
“Thick as thieves,” Ginny snorted. Albus and Scorpius’ friendship rivals Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s.
"Yes, I gathered as much. I have an appointment tomorrow morning, and I was wondering if he could stay with you until you depart for the shell cottage. Or you could take him with you to Bill’s. He’s coming to the wedding, but no worries if it's an inconvenience. Teddy had said Scorpius could stay with them, but I know they’re busier than you and I combined, and they have to deal with Fleur running around like a headless chicken.”
Ginny smiled, glancing into the dining room at Albus, who was teasing Lily about something, laughing when she punched him in the arm.
“Oh, Albus would love it. Just floo him over whenever; Harry’s an early riser.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
“Of course. See you soon.”
Ginny and Andromeda exchanged goodbyes before Ginny hung up the phone and returned to the dining room.
“You’ll never guess who’s stopping by tomorrow,” Ginny sang, plopping back into her seat.
Harry looked up, confused. “Teddy?”
“Related, but no,” Ginny said, shaking her head and making the red hair that spilled down her back fly. “Tall, blonde, on the excitable side.”
Albus’ face lit up. “Wait Scorpius? Really! Why?”
Ginny nodded. Harry looked pleasantly surprised. Lily failed to conceal a blush. James smirked at his brother.
“He’s travelling with us to Bill’s. Tomorrow morning—” She pointed an accusatory finger at her middle child. “Don’t sleep in until eleven.”
Albus put his hands up in mock surrender, as if he hadn't risen at noon. “I would never.”
Ginny rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that day.
*****
Albus was lounging on his bed, a book in hand. He had woken up early, too excited to sleep in, and was struggling to find things to occupy his time as he awaited his friend’s arrival. Attempting to read through his childhood copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Albus found his attention seemed to drift from the familiar pages. Albus remembered forcing his parents to read one of the stories to him every night when he was little.
As Albus ran a finger across the pages, tanned and soft with age, it was hard to grasp that there was a time when he was unaware of Scorpius Malfoy’s existence. Now, he can’t picture his life without his best friend.
How simple it would have been to never enter that train car—to have sat with Rose instead. How easily his future could have changed because of the tiniest of actions. Actions that could have led to him being a Gryffindor or never existing. He hoped every Time-Turner was destroyed so no one could ruin their first meeting.
His parents were in the kitchen; their efforts were attested by the smell of something sweet drifting up the stairs. Thankfully, Albus had turned the page to The Tail of the Three Brothers, his childhood favourite, and managed to lose himself in the book.
Yet not much later, Albus nearly flung his book when he heard the fireplace roar with life.
“Al, Scorpius is here,” his mother called.
He pushed off his bed and tried not to sprint down the stairs. As he descended, he heard Scorpius and his mother laughing. Scorpius never had trouble starting up conversations. He was probably telling Ginny his life story.
Scorpius turned from where he was chatting with his mother when he heard Albus enter, and his face broke into a beam. “Albus!”
“Hey, Scorp.” Albus grinned, pulling Scorpius into a hug. Scorpius was taller than he had last seen him. But his warmth and his smell of clean cologne are achingly familiar.
“I missed you,” Scorpius said with a sigh.
Albus slowly pulled back, his hands ghosting Scorpius’ arms as he smiled at his friend and said, “Yeah I guess I missed you too,” which made Scorpius snort and shake his head fondly.
Albus picked up Scorpius’ suitcase and gestured for him to follow him. Albus shouldered open his bedroom door and moved to let Scorpius in. Albus’ room wasn’t anything special. It was quaint and slightly scarce, with cream walls and two big south-facing windows. His bed, draped in soft greens, was pushed against the windows, which Rose had claimed was against feng shui, but Albus didn’t care. His desk was by the door, littered with photos—a handful of them of him and Scorpius at various ages.
Albus placed the suitcases by his desk as Scorpius surveyed his room. Albus was suddenly self-conscious; his room was nothing compared to the manor. But Scorpius turned to him with a soft smile.
“Very homey and Albus-y. It’s nice,” said Scorpius.
“Really?”
Scorpius nodded seriously and threw himself on the bed. “Mhm.”
Albus walked across and shoved over one of Scorpius’ legs before sitting next to him. “Well, I’m glad you like it. So, how was your trip? I thought you wouldn’t be back in England until September."
“Albus, it was amazing! Everywhere was gorgeous, and the food—I will still see it in my dreams,” Scorpius exclaimed, throwing his hands up playfully. “And being with my dad, it felt like old times, when I never knew my mum was sick. He was so, I don’t know, carefree,” he added quietly.
Albus shot Scorpius a doubtful look.
Scorpius smiled, shrugging. “Well, as carefree as Draco Malfoy can get.”
“That’s nice. I’m glad you had fun,” said Albus.
Scorpius nodded, his eyes still grazing over the room, presumably at Albus’ odd collection of random things. Suddenly, Scorpius gasped and jumped from the bed, going to his desk.
Confused, Albus got up and moved to peer over Scorpius’ shoulder, but Scorpius pivoted on his heel, a huge grin plastered on his face as he held aloft a bracelet dangling from his fingers.
“You kept them all?” Scorpius asked brightly.
Albus brought a hand to the back of his head. In a small bowl on his desk sat a pile of all his friendship bracelets. Their tradition, starting since their first train ride together, was to make each other a friendship bracelet they would wear until it fell apart. Except Albus normally cut his off just before that point so he could keep them. Each year was a different colour combo. Last year, in year four, Scorpius made his green and orange (the one Scorpius was currently holding), while Albus chose yellow and light blue.
“Well, yeah. They’re important to me. I like them,” Albus mumbled, embarrassed. He knew Scorpius wore his until it turned to shreds.
Scorpius regarded him warmly. “You’re such a softy.”
Albus rolled his eyes, saying, “False accusations. I have a reputation, you know.”
“Ah yes, as the dramatic, emo son,” Scorpius teased, placing the bracelet back in the bowl.
“Never call me emo,” Albus deadpanned, causing Scorpius to laugh.
Scorpius patted him on the shoulder with false sympathy. “Don’t be embarrassed, everyone has their phases–”
Albus decided he had enough of the emo accusations and tackled Scorpius to his bed, making the blond boy release a surprised laugh. Albus hovered over him.
“I wasn’t emo; I was misunderstood.”
Scorpius snorted, shaking his head.
Carefully, Albus rolled off of him and laid next to him.
“So what do you want to do?” Albus asked. “Wanna watch a movie?”
Scorpius propped up on one elbow, his brows knit together. “A… movie?”
“Yeah, like a muggle film. Like our pictures but longer,” Albus explained. Surely, Scorpius has heard of a movie before.
“I’ve never watched a movie before,” Scorpius admitted.
Albus really shouldn’t be as surprised as he is. Scorpius’ father is Draco Malfoy, no matter how muggleborn-friendly he is now.
“How do you survive?” Albus teased, poking Scorpius’ shoulder lightly. “My dad has a basket of films we can choose from.”
Albus dragged his friend to the lounge, kneeling on the floor as he opened a drawer crammed with CDs. Scorpius knelt beside him. Albus lifted one CD from the top, holding it up to Scorpius. Star Wars.
Scorpius cocked his head.
Albus lifted another.
“Dirty Dancing…” Scorpius muttered, looking equally confused and amused.
Albus rummaged through the bin before triumphantly lifting his favourite muggle film.
“Men in Black. Are they ninjas?” Scorpius asked, taking the film from Albus’ hands to scan the cover.
Albus snorted. “They’re spies but for aliens.”
Scorpius frowned. “What’s an alien?"
Albus plucked the CD from Scoprius’ hands and inserted it into his TV. He flops onto the couch, patting the space next to him. Scorpius plops down beside him.
“I learned about a tee-dee in Italy,” Scorpius told him proudly.
Albus had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
They settled down, snuggling under a blanket, regardless of the fact that it was 20 degrees outside. While watching the movie, Scorpius would burst into laughter, gasp, or ask Albus silly questions about muggles, which Albus happily answered.
Ginny walked by, baskets overflowing with laundry floating behind her. She pauses her stop, one of the baskets bumping into her shoulder. On the couch sat her middle child with his best friend cuddled comfortably beside him, his head resting on the other’s shoulder.
Smiling to herself knowingly, Ginny continued walking.