Temporal Problems

Summary: Scorpius receives unwanted attention. James demonstrates why Quidditch can be detrimental to one's mental health. Rose and Albus are remarkably unaffected. Time Travel.
Warnings: Rated T for James' sexual proclivities.
Author's Note: This is the product of my obsession with time travel, need to write something in the genre, and the knowledge that I'm terrible at finishing stories. Ergo…one shot. Yes, this is intended to be mild crack.

"Lavender Goldstein just tried to flirt with me in the Great Hall."

"Hm?" Sixteen-year-old Albus Potter looks up from the abnormally thick book in front of him, only faintly paying any attention to his best friend. "What did you say?"

"Lavender- bloody-Goldstein just tried to flirt with me in the Great Hall," Scorpius Malfoy slams his bag onto the table in the library table next to the Slytherin, his grey eyes alight with horror and annoyance. "As in- Chase's mother."

"Brown," Rose Weasley comments from her place further down the table, her nose buried in the book in front of her, not looking at either the Gryffindor or Slytherin.

"What?" Albus asks, looking between the two, unsure of exactly what was going on.

"Brown," Rose repeats, finally glancing up only long enough to send her boyfriend an amused glance. "Her name is Lavender Brown. Not Goldstein. Not yet at least."

Scorpius rolls his eyes heavenward. "Rose, I don't care. It's still Chase Goldstein's mother!" He grabs the nearest book. "What are you two reading about?" he asks, frowning. After a second, he looks over at Rose again. "Shouldn't you be jealous or something? It might make me feel better."

Rose just rolls her eyes as James Potter walks over from one of the shelves across the room, placing the pile of books in his arms in front of her and Albus. "I hope you two know that I'm not going to be reading any of these," he tells them, slumping into the seat across from his brother. Glancing at his fellow Gryffindor's anguished expression, the Seventh Year smirks. "What's the problem with you, Malfoy?" he asks.

Scorpius allows his head to fall into his arms. "My bloody roommate's bloody mother just attempted to try and get me to bloody snog her in the Great Hall," he repeats for the third time.

"Which roommate?" James inquires, pulling out a box of chocolates from within his bag. He offers one each to Scorpius, Albus and Rose. The boys decline, but, after looking up from her research quickly, Rose takes one happily.

"Does it matter?" Scorpius groans, burying himself deeper into his arms.

"Sure it does," James answers, as Albus looses interest in the conversation and goes back to the book in front of him. "Say, if it were Destiny Thomas's mother, I'd be a little more opposed to the idea than if it were… I dunno, Fred and Roxie's mum. Aunt Angelina's a looker, you know."

As Scorpius looks at James with an expression of horror, Rose glances up at her cousin, taking his image in seriously for the first time. "You really were dropped on your head a lot as a small child, weren't you?" she asks, shaking her head slowly.

"Not to mention," Albus adds, with a humorous chuckle, "all the Quidditch injuries he's suffered over the years. It's really not surprising that he'd want to make out with his own aunt."

"What can I say?" James asks, grinning at his family and their friend. "She's not biologically related to me. It doesn't faze me all that much."

Rose shakes her head one more time and goes back to her book. "Aunt Ginny was right; you really are the sexual deviant of the family."

Albus, looking horrified, goes back to his reading, as James, seemingly quite proud, looks back at the dejected form of Scorpius Malfoy. "So, which roommate was it exactly?"

"Chase Goldstein," the blonde aristocrat answers, his voice a low whine as he thinks back. "His mum… just… came at me, all smiles and flirty-flightiness… it was terrible."

James looks thoughtful for a moment, popping another chocolate into his mouth. "That's… er… Lavender Brown, isn't it?" he asks. "I have to tell you, mate, I wouldn't mind it so much if it were her, either. She's rather pretty."

Albus observes his brother disgustedly. "She's either two years younger than you," he begins slowly, as if explaining the situation to someone really daft, "or two and a half decades your senior. Are you really saying what I think you're saying?"

James shrugs, and Scorpius lets out a pitiful moan from his place buried in his arms. "I want to go home," he groans mournfully. "I can't take this time period anymore. If I have to attend one more Defense lesson with that… toad woman I might just curse her. And… my friends' mothers are attempting to hook up with me… this just isn't right…!" he finishes.

"Speaking of Defense lessons," Rose looks up, "isn't Uncle Harry running the DA meetings this year?" she asks. "That was his fifth year, right?"

Suddenly, as if forgetting all about the Lavender-attempting-to-kiss-him problem, Scorpius looks up, a weird expression on his face. "Wait. The DA? Do you think we can sneak into it? Or get invited into it?"

Everyone at the table glances at the youngest Malfoy. "Why in the world do you of all people want to do that?" James asks, leaning over to peer at Scorpius. "I mean, yeah, we're related and the idea is fascinating, but why you?"

Scorpius shrugs, but the look on his face is pensive. "Well, Dad works with your dad, you know? Anyway, he let slip one time- under the influence of Firewhiskey of course- that your dad had to teach my dad something for a mission one time and that- and though he was loath to admit it- your dad was a really good teacher," he shrugs again, "I guess I'm just interested in the idea of watching the famous Harry Potter in action."

Rose looks at her boyfriend for a long moment and then slams the book in front of her shut, much to the consternation of the librarian. "Well, I'm not finding anything to help our situation right now," she tells them with a faint grin, looking, at the moment, all the Weasley-prankster spawn that she is. "So what do you all say we go and gatecrash a DA meeting?"

END

Ending Notes: Right off the bat,I apologize for James' view of the situation and for any canon-errors. This has been sitting on my desktop for a long, long time and there is a reason it is saved as: "why writing a time travel story at 3:30 in the morning is a bad idea". The Lavender/Anthony was inspired by a lovely story called: "Her First and Her Last" and can be found in my {very long} list of favorite stories. Check it out. Anyway, my overdue physics lab is calling to me. So, ttfn- Ta ta for now!
~Rose