Written for the Hogwarts summer funfair, so it's only fitting to dedicate this to Summer! (summersaults16)

Pick & Mix: write a story about Scorpius Malfoy and Severus Snape.

Petting Zoo: Write a story about two characters in which one turns into a fairy.

Word count: 1,136

Scorpius scuffed his feet as he walked up the winding staircase behind the gargoyles. Albus hadn't been sent to the Headmistress's office, but then again, Albus was a Potter. Scorpius was a Malfoy, and so the Head Boy had seen fit to dole both detentions on him and none for his friend.

After a shouting match and an unfortunate case of the Head Boy's robes catching fire - coincidentally, a spell taught to the first year Charms class just last week - things did not end well.

'I'm just going to go up there, shut my mouth like Dad says, and I'll be out in no time,' Scorpius said to himself, knocking on the door.

The door creaked open, but there was no sign of human life in the room beyond. Still, Scorpius's curiosity propelled him forwards into McGonagall's study all the same.

It was a circular room with several doors leading off into cabinets or alcoves, the walls lined with dozens of paintings all in various stages of sleep. When Scorpius went to examine one, the wizard shooed him away and buried his head in his cloak.

Politely moving away, he examined the silver instruments lying atop the spindly tables lining the left side of the room. He had just picked up what appeared to be a flute, only instead of holes, there were little tubes all leading down to a decanter. He shook it, and shining flecks of dust fell into the bottom. He shook it some more, but nothing else emerged.

'I would put that down if I were you,' a dry voice came from the wall behind him.

Scorpius jumped, almost dropping the strange flute in the process. A wizard with shoulder-length black hair, black eyes and a rather large nose was looking at him in disapproval. Scorpius was strangely reminded of his grandfather, though this man appeared to be younger and didn't look at all like him.

The man folded his arms and rolled his eyes at Scorpius's inspection.

'Have you nothing better to waste your time on, boy?' he asked.

'Your name is Severus?' Scorpius asked instead, the words bursting out from him as he read the inscription below the portrait.

'Not to little brats who have no manners,' Severus replied snidely. 'Though you do look familiar. Draco's son?'

'Sorry,' Scorpius apologised. His mother would have reprimanded him if she were here. 'It's just that one of my friends' names is Severus. I'm Scorpius Malfoy. You knew my father?' he asked, hoping for tales of his father's youth. He was very close-mouthed on the subject.

But the portrait didn't seem to be interested in recounting Draco-related anecdotes. Instead, the man groaned.

'Who was so unoriginal that they had to use their Head of House's name for their spawn? Please don't tell me that your friend is Severus Crabbe.'

'Actually, it was Harry Potter,' Scorpius said. 'My friend is called Albus Severus Potter.'

The man in the portrait went very quiet at that. Scorpius stepped closer and thought he saw a tear in the man's eye.

'Did you know him well, Harry Potter?' Scorpius asked curiously. This man looked to be the same age as the famous Harry Potter now. If he wasn't going to get a story about his father, at least he could tell Albus something he didn't know about his. 'Was he a friend of yours?'

There was a long pause before the portrait replied. 'No,' he said. 'He wasn't. He was a rather insolent brat during his time at school if you ask me. But perhaps Albus was right. Perhaps...'

'Perhaps?' Scorpius repeated, drawing closer.

'Look out!' the portrait suddenly cried, his arms spread out and his robes billowing around him like a bat.

Surprised, Scorpius stumbled back. He had been about to knock over some of the other instruments with the flute in his hand. They were saved, but unfortunately he lost his footing, tumbling backwards and causing the glittering dust to fall out through the holes in the flute onto his face.

Scorpius sneezed, wrinkling his nose. Oddly, the dust felt…warm. And shiny. He vaguely heard the portrait in the background shouting some stuff, but it didn't seem important yet.

The robes were getting too heavy, so he shrugged them off, spreading his wings with relish.

Wait, his wings?

He twirled around. Sure enough, there were four wings attached to his back nearly as tall as he, transluscent and - if he said so himself - just gorgeous. He fluttered them experimentally and rose a few feet from the ground.

'When did the tables get so big?' he tried to ask, but all that came out were a few chirps and high pitched chatter.

For a brief moment, he panicked, but was then distracted by his clothes. He was sure he hadn't been wearing them a moment ago, but they were very handsome, woven from the finest spider silk and sparkling in the sun. He gave a twirl, and was happy at the way his skirt twirled around his knees.

Laughing, he flew up into the air and did a jaunty jig, tapping his delicate white shoes to an inaudible tempo.

The dark man in the portrait - Scorpius couldn't remember his name - was waving at him. Thinking that he was complimenting Scorpius on his dance, he flew down to hear more flattery.

'Now you've done it,' the man raged. 'You complete idiot. Just like your father, meddling in things that were over his head.'

Well, that wasn't very nice, Scorpius thought to himself.

He pouted to show his disappointment, giving a little shake of his wings to cover the portrait with fairy dust.

There, he thought. Maybe he'll be happier now he's pretty like me.

He flew to the table with the silver instruments, posing against one, then the other, wondering which object looked the best with himself as a decoration. If only he could decorate all of them! He flew around the room, seeing a slightly open door near the grouchy portrait. He flew in, tapping his feet together to make a little tinkling noise as he went.

In the cabinet, he found a most beautiful expanse of water, a silver pool of liquid taking centre stage in the small space. Immediately, Scorpius knew that it would compliment his own loveliness perfectly.

Settling down to preen himself at the water's edge, lighting up from time to time to see the reflection dance across the surface of the water, he heard the portrait complain to itself one more time.

'Merlin's beard. How am I going to explain to Draco Malfoy that his son has turned himself into a fairy?'

Scorpius gave a tinkling laugh. It seemed that he would have at least one visitor to admire his beauty in the near future.