"Hugo Neal Weasley, while I absolutely accept you and your ways of love, I will not have you snogging the daylights out of your boyfriend when I've distinctly asked you to set the table." Molly bellowed through the Burrow, the pictures hanging on every inch of the walls tilting from the brute vibration, and causing the couple to split apart. While Molly had not aged gracefully as a grandmother, she still had the thriving stubborn impatience she always had with just the right amount of motherly love, and it was bizarrely comforting.
They'd been snogging for literally forty six minutes, Albus had been counting whiling putting on a façade of reading, and often looked up from his book blatantly to check the clock. Albus was still getting use to his cousin being gay, let alone watching his cousin snog the daylights out of bloke, and was awfully squirmy at the display. From where he sat in his chair the clock was right above the couple, and it was an acceptable excuse if Hugo ever asked. Then again he didn't actually think that Hugh cared all that much, but he wasn't about to just openly gawk at the infatuated boys.
Now though he looked up to watch the ginger haired boy groan and scoff as he swaggered toward the kitchen, leaving a very blitzed out Reid Patil to lay in recuperation, and allowing Albus to creep. The middle potter wasn't privy to creeping, and he himself often saw it has merely observation of the same gender. All the while, his younger sister would pointedly remind him otherwise, and would offer enough examples to dishearten Al from arguing. So, as he looked at the boy he noticed the evenly tan skin sprawled out about him, and the gentle tint of pink just barely noticeable on the boy's cheeks. Al's eyes flickered lower to see the peek of tan hip bones, and the way Reid's white shirt rode up just slightly. More importantly, he noticed the dark and glistening lips and how they splayed open and relaxed. Reflexively, Al licked his own lips and tightened his hold on the book he'd been 'reading'.
"What are you reading?" Reid lazily gestured with a lazy smirk, his teeth peeking out ever so slightly, and making Al's heart flutter.
"Sorry?" Al replied, even though he'd heard the question clearly.
"What are you reading?" Reid uttered as he lifted up onto his elbows, his eyes squinting curiously at the boy, before Hugo pounded back into the room. The boy all but flopped ungracefully onto the tan boy, and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek.
"Dinner's ready." Hugo smirked as his brows lifted once in a teasing manner, causing Reid to give him a predatory gaze, and making Albus cringe. "Maybe you'll get desert later, eh?"
"Right, well did you tell Louis 'bout Dinner?" Albus chimed in as he stood abruptly and put his book down onto the chair, the boys turning to look at him.
Molly had deduced that spending quality time with her grandchildren was a difficult task at best, and had crafted a well thought out plan: Between the kid's fifth and sixth year, the grandkids would come up and spend a week or two at the burrow, and it'd give her children a bit of a break. This year had been Albus and Louis, but Hugo wanted to get his year over with and had pleaded like the liar he was that he couldn't wait for family time. Molly never knew better, but the rest of the family evidently did. So it was the three boys, and they were the furthest thing from alike.
"You can fuck your plaything later, let's eat." Louis suggested in a snaky tone, as he walked into the living room from the outside, sweat glistening against the blonde's skin. Al noted that his cousin must have gotten from a fly or a run.
Albus, for as long as he could remember, had never seen Louis nor Hugo get along. His mother had said that when they were all babies they were perfectly fine, but as time progressed things began to change swiftly. Each boy grew up differently, and each boy had different parents. The only level ground they had was to protect family, however it never really felt like much of a family for Albus. Not saying they were bad family members, but they weren't blushing best mates.
"Fuck you Lo." Hugo hissed back as he got off Reid, dragging the boy with him, and storming off into the kitchen.
Still firmly standing, Albus looked over at Louis and began to shake it head, before heading into the kitchen.
Once fully seated the four boys, Molly, and Arthur all sat down and listened on to Arthur's latest excitement. "Apparently they're able to project the keyboard fully onto a solid surface, it's as if you can type on this projection and it'll work the same as a typewriter. I couldn't believe it! Can you image! When they got those apples I knew things would really get great, and all without magic to boot." He went on excitedly as he shoved a piece of pork promptly into his mouth.
"Ipod's grandfather." Hugo said proudly.
"Or Iphones." Albus interjected. While he wasn't privy with muggle technology, he did know a bit about it, but only so much.
A laps in silence had settled amongst them after Arthur's excitement in apple products, the sounds of forks hitting plates occasionally being heard in chorus with Molly's pleased humming, and the odd look around by each person at the table.
Albus's emerald eyes flickered up once to study Reid some more, noticing the dollop of gravy against Patil's lip, and tilting his head at it. Noticeably Hugo caught the gaze and merely swept the gravy off the boys lip and sucked on it without thought.
"Really Hugo." Molly whined as she looked at the boy in a disappointing manner.
"The paper's late today." Arthur added in, with a mouthful of mashed potatoes rolling around in his mouth, as he looked behind him to see a distant owl fluttering clumsily toward them ."Ah, never mind, here she comes." he cheerfully declared.
Albus's eyes moved from the couple in time to catch the bird fly square into the window, a chorus of Weasley sighs producing, and strangled noise emitting from Reid. "Does that always happen?" he asked, looking around at them.
"Always." Louis drawled.
"Molly we really ought to get a new bird."
"I like her granddad, don't get rid of her." Hugo interjected as the bird gained it's wits and hopped onto the window sill with the Daily Prophet promptly in it's claws.
"Right what have we go-"
"Not at the table Arth-"
"-Alright got it love." Arthur beamed with a wink, as he sat down at the table, reading the front cover, and nodding in acknowledgement. The newspaper hadn't come in normally in the morning like it had been known to, and Arthur had floo'd Mr. Creevey in wonder. Mr. Creevey, the editor in chief, didn't comment on the matter, but Al's grandfather had his head in the floo for well over a couple hours chatting the man up.
"Anything interesting?" Albus inquired as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice, lapping at the small residue hanging on his bottom lip, and catching Reid staring at his action. Al's head lulled back at the gesture, but didn't have time to dwell on it before Arthur piped up.
"The news of Fred becoming Charm's professor is finally in… Something about a new owl trainer at the Emporium… Malfoy's having a party." Arthur read, causing Louis to cough on his water.
"What daddy has to post his party in the newspaper? How pretentious." he chuckled darkly.
"Ironic coming from you Lo." Albus quipped right back, as he looked at the eldest Weasley, and nodded. "Why's it in the paper?"
"Well apparently Draco and Astoria are hosting a muggle twenties themed party, birthday party rather, for the young Scorpius. It says that Draco's putting all proceeds to a charity, and there's an entry fee. Barmy man that one, but if it's all for charity… Oh it says that…. Oh. It says that years five to seven are in attendance and will rec-" Arthur read, before he was interrupted by three envelopes flying through the window and onto the table. One landed on the rim of Al's drink, Hugo's in his potatoes, and Louis had enough mind to catch his. Each of the boys opened the white envelope with a green decorum on it, and pulled out a black letter with white wording on it.
"I haven't spoken to him a day in my life." Albus utter after some time as his fingers traced his name on the letter.
"Well it's not like Malfoy and I ever got along." Louis chimed in as he showed Al his own letter.
"I still can't believe he's Gryffindor." Hugo remarked as he showed his boyfriend.
"You're cordially invited to the Malfoy Cottage for a night of festivities and partying. In sympathetic offering of the St. Mungo's shortage, all proceeds will go to putting in an additional floor, and the event will be a….blah…blah… blah, blah blah. Scorpius Malfoy. How much do you want to bet he didn't even sign there." Louis asked with an unimpressed gaze, and then throwing the letter behind him. Molly frowned at the blonde boy, most likely for the littering in her dining room than anything else, while Arthur looked at him curiously.
"You boys are going then?" Arthur asked as he crossed his arms and leaned into his chair.
"No."
"No."
"Hell no."
"It's for charity boys, I was in that hospital once, and many were there during the war…" Arthur began a long tangent on the war, which he often did if his grandchildren refuted something, and elicited many groans of dissatisfaction out of them. Albus however couldn't help feel slightly panicked at the idea of going to the party, but his grandfather merely took it as intense frightful listening. He'd never once been to a Malfoy party, no matter how famous his house told him they were, and had gone leaps and bounds to ignore them. That last thing Al ever wanted was to be rivalled with the bloke because of their dads, and so avoided him as best as they could. Their circle of friends sometimes interlocked, but not enough for Al to ever worry. He had though when he was announced a Slytherin, but relief fell on him when Malfoy was declared a Gryffindor. It was strange to everyone else but Albus, who saw it as a pleasing.
"I need to talk to Ade then." Albus announced, standing, and not paying much mind to the fact that he'd rudely interrupted his granddad.
"I should tell Felly!" Hugo shrieked excitedly as he grabbed Reid's wrist and left the table after Al.
"Can I leave?" Louis asked his grandmother.
"Oh bloody hell. Yes, yes, go too. If none of you are going to enjoy dinner then go." Molly huffed out as she watched the boys leave. "We can never have a nice dinner."
"The Creevey boy has died." Arthur muttered right after Molly's statement, causing the woman to tilt her head, and her hand instinctively finding Arthur's. "No wonder Dennis was so tense during the call, he was trying to - oh that poor man. Losing a child so young." Arthur explained, his voice breaking, and understanding what it was like to loose a child. "Oh Molly." Arthur whispered as he distantly heard the boys pound up the stairs, his eyes glistening, and turning to see his wife's eyes already streaming gentle tears.