This was supposed to be part of another one-shot, but it didn't really fit, buuuut I like it so much that I'm publishing it anyway. Enjoy the Potter banter!

"JAMES, YOU IDIOT–"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know–"

"–HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO MESS AROUND WITH GEORGE'S TEST PRODUCTS–"

"But you'll fix her, won't you? Lily will be fine, won't she?"

"I DON'T BLOODY KNOW, JAMES–"

"Gin, we can just ask Ron–"

"When, Harry? Now, at the station? Are we taking our daughter to King's Cross with her bright orange skin? Rita'll have a field day with that."

"Lily can stay here. As soon as we drop off the boys–"

"JAMES SIRIUS POTTER, DO NOT TAKE ANOTHER STEP. WE'RE NOT DONE HERE. YOU'RE LUCKY THE HOLIDAYS ARE OVER…"

There was never a quiet moment in the Potter household.

Albus was used to it, so he didn't let the shouting match distract him as he packed. Usually, he would have been thrilled to witness the scene – hearing Ginny yell at his brother had always been one of his favourite pastimes – but he didn't have the energy for it at the moment. Going downstairs meant interacting, and interacting meant awkward conversations with his father and sympathetic glances from his mother, and he'd had enough of those during the holidays, thank you very much.

Christmas as a Potter-Weasley involved countless family reunions, interacting with dozens of cousins or aunts or uncles, and never enjoying a moment of peace and quiet. And yet, Albus had discovered that it was possible to be surrounded by people and feel crushingly alone at the same time.

'Slytherin, eh?'

'How's Hogwarts, Al? You must be having a great time. I wish I could go back…'

'Been practicing Quidditch, have you? Merlin knows Slytherin needs some decent players!'

'D'you have a favourite subject yet? What are you best at? Your mum was excellent at Charms…'

He'd thought the first few days had been bad. Then Rose had had to open her big mouth on Christmas Day and blab about how Albus's only friend was 'that Malfoy boy' and how he was rubbish at pretty much every kind of magic. The former had not gone down well, despite his parents's claims that as long as Scorpius made Albus happy, they were fine with this odd, unlikely friendship.

It didn't stop Albus from feeling like a stranger in his own home.

He half-heartedly threw things into his trunk as he picked them up from the floor, the bed, and the desk. He wasn't as messy as Scorpius, whose side of the dorm tended to look like it had been struck by a particularly vicious hurricane, but there were still piles of books and spare bits of parchment that needed tidying up. He grabbed some of the latter, intending to crush them into a ball and chuck them in the bin, but then he recognised the familiar, elegant handwriting on a folded letter:

At least you've got plenty of other people to talk to, right? I've got Mum, Dad, and the peacocks. Gran and Grandfather usually come over for Christmas lunch, but Mum says she can't be bothered to organise everything this year.

She's not feeling very well, so we haven't been able to go Christmas shopping yet, but rest assured, you'll get your present! Not on Christmas Day, though. Half the fun of giving presents is watching the other person open them, don't you think? So you'll have to wait a bit, I'm afraid. I hope it'll be worth it! I've been working on it with Mum for a few days now (she says hi, by the way).

Happy almost-Christmas!

Scorpius

"What's got you grinning so much?"

Albus jumped, accidentally crushing the parchment as his hands clenched. He shot a scowl at the doorway, mouth already open so he could complain about how no one in that house was familiar with the concept of knocking, and common courtesy, and privacy–

Oh, James was so dead.

Looking at the youngest Potter was like trying to stare directly at a fireworks display, or perhaps the shop window of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Lily was bouncing on the balls of her feet, as if she hadn't quite decided whether it was safe to come in, and looking very… orange. Her skin was an obnoxiously bright shade of tangerine that clashed horribly with her hair and somehow managed to hide her countless freckles. It was an unnerving sight, to be honest. Hearing about it was one thing, but seeing it in person… Albus was fairly sure he was gaping.

"Say nothing," Lily proclaimed dramatically, striking an affected pose with her wrist resting against her forehead as she leaned against the doorway. He still hadn't taken down the silver tinsel and baubles she'd glued there. "I know I look like a pumpkin."

At least she was taking it well; it seemed like she'd fully embraced her orange-ness. Albus hadn't processed it just yet. "What did James do?" he asked, bewildered.

Lily seemed to take that as an invitation to come in. She carefully manoeuvred her way around the room and plopped down onto the bed with a sigh, wrinkling his Chudley Canons covers. Albus was certain he'd never seen that much orange in one place. "I thought he was being nice because he offered me a custard cream, but… well…" She gestured to her face. "It's one of Uncle George's experiments, apparently. Chameleon Custards. They're supposed to be like Disillusionment Charms, but – er – they're obviously not." She rolled her eyes. "James is grounded forever, I think. Or until Mum calms down, which will probably happen before lunchtime. She'll get all mopey because you two are leaving, and then she'll get all mushy with Dad, and James will be forgiven by tomorrow morning."

"That sounds about right," Albus said, counting how many rolls of parchment he had left. He shot his sister a mischievous smile. "You could play the victim and go to the Burrow to cry for a bit. Gran'll make you a pie."

Lily's eyes lit up. "Ooooh, now that's an idea. I'll send you a slice if it works." She rolled over so that she was lying on her stomach and resting her chin on her hands, and looked at his open trunk curiously. "You still packing?"

"Just some last-minute things," Albus said, shrugging. He picked up The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1 and tossed it in. He smiled to himself when he realised Scorpius would have told him off for being so careless with a book.

"What are those?"

"My Potions notes."

"And that?"

"A star chart." He was supposed to fill it in during the holidays, but waking up in the middle of the night to look at the sky, which wasn't fun under any circumstances, was particularly unappealing when you had no one to do it with.

Lily hmmed. This was just like when they were little: Lily used to follow him around, watching and copying and asking anything and everything. Had it been anyone else, Albus would have told them to leave, but he didn't mind Lily's pestering. "And what's that?" Lily pointed at a package that Albus had left on top of his pillow. He'd wrapped it carefully in some bright yellow paper with a pattern of Nifflers wearing Santa hats that he'd nicked from the shed. Lily reached out to touch it.

"It's a present," Albus said hurriedly. "For – for a friend."

Lily paused, then tilted her head to one side so she could stare at him, her brown eyes inquisitive. "For Scorpius? That's his name, right?"

"Yes."

"Ah." Lily rolled onto her back again and stuck a foot in the air, and her pyjama trousers slid down enough to reveal that she was orange down the tips of her toes. "You always smile when you read his letters," she said pensively, looking at him upside-down. "You like him a lot, don't you?"

Albus felt his cheeks burn, and he busied himself with his trunk so he wouldn't have to look at his sister. "He's my best friend," he mumbled.

"That's good."

"Is it really?"

"Yes. I don't care that he's a Malfoy," Lily said firmly. "And I don't mind the Slytherin thing either, or anything that Rose says. You've got a friend and that's what matters, so you can stop being broody and moping around the house, yeah?"

"I don't mope," Albus said defensively. He felt a small flicker of warmth spread through him after hearing his sister's words, though.

"Al, you invented moping."

He threw a half-hearted glare at her, even though he knew she was right.

Lily wasn't impressed. "I want my sassy, fun brother back during the Easter holidays, okay?" she said sternly.

Albus rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mum." But he grinned at her and poked her in the nose as he went to grab Scorpius's present. After a moment's debate, he stuffed it in the trunk too, as it was too big to fit in his coat pocket. And with that, he was done.

"Oi!" Lily called, sitting up. "You're not taking your Quaffle?" She nodded at Albus's most impressive Christmas gift: red leather, brand new, signed by his favourite Chaser from the Holyhead Harpies. Albus didn't intend to ever use it. He'd needed a new Quaffle, and he'd told his parents as much during the summer holidays, but after that disastrous flying lesson… He refused to do anything Quidditch-related while at Hogwarts, no matter how much he missed playing. It wasn't worth the stares, mutters, and humiliation. Not that he'd tell anyone that, apart from Scorpius; he'd had to smile and thank his parents for the gift despite feeling like he'd been punched in the gut.

"Nah," he said lightly. "First year, remember? We can't really play Quidditch. You can use it, if you want."

Lily made a face. "I'm a lousy Chaser."

"Well, practice a bit and maybe you'll stop being so lousy," Albus said with a grin.

Lily threw the Quaffle at him. He didn't get the chance to catch it, though, as she flung herself into his arms immediately afterwards. It was weird, having so much orange wrapped around him, but Albus closed his eyes and held on tight. He'd missed her loads, and as soon as he arrived at Hogwarts he'd start counting the days until Easter. He'd always been fond of his little sister; she was probably his favourite Potter. Perhaps, when she went to Hogwarts… It was a foolish hope, because he knew Lily too well, but for one moment Albus let himself wish she'd be in Slytherin with him.

"If I manage to convince Gran… Do you want apple pie or blackberry pie?" Lily's voice was muffled, since her face was pressed against his hoodie.

"Apple."

"Blackberry it is, then."