author's note: This isn't mine (well, it is, but the world isn't.) (The world isn't mine anyway.) (Oops.) Also have you read that new Skeeter article on Pottermore? I'm dreadfully excited about it, but I'm also a bit are you serious James because if Teddy and Vic were romping around the Quidditch World Cup then why was snogging on Platform Nine and Three Quarters a big deal? Damn it, James! I've written you as smart but you're obviously one Seeker short of a Quidditch team if ya know what I'm sayin'. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!
Chapter Four
"Home Is Where The Heart Is"
Or
"When I Saw Her Standing There"
Gabbie Sterling pressed her hands against the shop window and Hugo laughed at her. "You're not going to start snogging the glass, are you?" he asked. "That might be where I draw the line."
The blonde retracted her hands and poked her tongue at him. "What, and you refuse to be seen with me? I'd sooner snog the window than you."
Hugo went bright red, and Gabbie laughed at him.
"It's all right, Hugo; just find some mistletoe and I'll be yours."
He went redder still, and she pulled him away from the sweet shop and back down the main street. It was the week before Christmas, and the end of term had come and gone; Ravenclaw had played Hufflepuff in the Quidditch Cup and won by a slim margin of ten points. The two of them walked with linked arms down the Muggle road that eventually led to Diagon Alley, and any onlooker would have thought that the tall, skinny ginger boy was besotted with his shorter blonde companion; and in a bizarre turn of events, any onlooker would have been absolutely right.
"Ooh!" Gabbie exclaimed. "That place looks lovely!"
She squeezed Hugo's arm and gazed up at him. After a moment, he sighed. "Oh, fine, it's half twelve anyway."
Patricia Day rapped her knuckles on the front door of Benji Marchbanks and Harrison Tulley's shared flat in Lincoln. It was rather a murky day, and she did not like the look of the dark clouds overhead. Scuffling sounds echoed from inside the flat. She tapped her foot impatiently against the concrete; she had woken up before noon today – an unwelcome change – and she had expected the same level of dedication from the boys. It was their band rehearsal, after all. She had done well to book them the Brixton headline gig – but did they appreciate it? They would probably buy her a bottle of raspberry-infused firewhiskey and deal out hugs; yes, that would be the extent of their thank you. Patricia knocked again.
"Oi! Benj! It's Trish!" came Harrison's muffled voice from inside the flat.
She heard Benji swear loudly, and then he shouted, "Sorry, Patricia! Give us a mo!"
The door swung open, revealing Benji Marchbanks with a t-shirt halfway down his torso and Harrison Tulley on the couch, looking very lethargic. Benji pulled down his shirt and invited Patricia inside.
"Sorry about that," he added once she had crossed the threshold. "I didn't think you'd want me opening the door in my pants."
Patricia laughed. "That might've been a bit awkward, yeah."
"So. Band practice."
"Roy and Tom are probably going to Floo in any minute now," said Harrison, who was now using his wand to clear the living room and ready it for their rehearsal. When Benji had disappeared into the kitchen to make them all tea, Harrison asked, "How's the boyfriend, sweets?"
"He's all right," said Patricia. She rolled her eyes, remembering something Harrison had said to her after their Hogsmeade gig. "And, yes, we're still going strong. No, he is not eyeing you flirtatiously every time he comes to see us."
Harrison sighed. "Another dream, crushed."
"Sorry."
Benji returned with cups of tea levitating behind him. He held the pot of sugar and a small jug of milk, which passed around the room, filling up cups accordingly. "Who's this we're talking about?"
"Scorpius," said Patricia, at the same time Harrison said, "Trish's boyfriend."
"Ah." Benji smiled wide. "It's okay, Harrison – one day we'll find somebody for the both of us."
Patricia nearly inhaled some tea up her nose. "Not to share, though?"
"Maybe if it's consensual," Harrison replied, shrugging.
There was a loud noise from the fireplace, a couple of meters in front of the couch, and Roy emerged, covered in soot. He stumbled on the rug, sunk into a low bow, and moved out of the way as Tom appeared in the place he had just vacated.
"You're late," said Harrison.
Roy shrugged. "Traffic."
Patricia placed her teacup on the saucer floating beside her shoulder and clapped her hands. "Right, boys – rehearsal!"
"Actually, I wrote a song last night," said Harrison, jumping up from the couch.
"Is it angsty?" asked Tom.
"I prefer the term 'punk rock'," Harrison replied, "but yes, it's very much that."
"Let me guess," Roy muttered. "It's about Ashton."
Benji elbowed Roy in the ribs as Harrison rolled his eyes. "I'm done with him! Properly – he's actually moved to America, you know?" He glared at Roy. "How would you feel if I kept muttering under my breath about your dear Elle?"
Sobered up, Roy did not respond.
"All right, then!" said Patricia enthusiastically, jumping onto the couch beside Benji. "Let's hear this song of yours?"
Lily opened the front door, surprised at what she found standing on the threshold of her home. Her father was up in Glasgow hunting down some renegade Muggle haters, and her mother had gone ahead to James's match. Albus was picking Andy up from her bakeshop, and then the two of them would be Apparating to the stadium, somewhere in an old Welsh quarry. Under normal circumstances, Lily would have shouted, "Al! Your boyfriend's here!" and then invited Scorpius in, but she was the only one home and he was looking down at her with such a roguish smile that it almost had her breathless. She clenched her jaw – Lily Potter was not breathless.
"Your brother's not in, is he?" Scorpius surmised.
Lily pulled at the Montrose Magpies jersey she had on and shook her head. "Bristol, picking up Andy."
"Oh – really? Why's that?" Scorpius furrowed his eyebrows. "I didn't think they were going out tonight."
Lily smirked. "Because Al does tell you everything, doesn't he?"
"More or less, yeah."
"There's a match. James is playing so we're all going to watch."
"Oh." He pointed to her shirt. "That makes more sense now."
"No," she said dryly. "I just wear this for fun." After a moment, she asked, "D'you want to come in? Al forgot his inflatable magpie, so he might pop back."
Scorpius blinked a couple of times. "I wouldn't be disturbing you, would I?"
"I wouldn't ask you in if I didn't think you'd be worth hanging around with."
He grinned, bowing so deep he could have kissed his shins. "Glad to be of service, Miss Potter."
Lily scooted aside to allow Scorpius into the house and then shut the door behind him. He stood, fidgeting with his hands, as though unsure of where to sit or whether to do so at all. She had never seen him anything less than absolutely comfortable, so in this new territory, Lily felt a strange sense of confidence.
"Your parents aren't home, are they?"
Lily raised her eyebrows. "No, Dad's in Scotland and Mum's already gone to the match."
"Just us then?"
She laughed at him. "Take a seat and stop looking as though the idea of being alone with me terrifies you."
"You? Terrify me? You're five foot nothing."
"I'm actually five foot three – "
"Surprisingly enough, dear, that isn't helping your case."
Scorpius threw himself down onto the sofa and looked up at Lily with a smile plastered on his face. She crossed the living room, past the coffee table and the fireplace, until she reached the open door to the kitchen and turned to him once more.
"Do you want anything to drink?" she asked.
"Uh – butterbeer, if you've got some."
Lily set about fetching the drinks and left Scorpius to his thoughts, which she imagined were along the lines of his girlfriend, her brother, and the Quidditch game she needed to leave for in fifteen minutes. Upon her return to the living room, Scorpius straightened up and took one of the bottles from her hands.
"Thank you – for the drink."
"Thank you – for the company," Lily replied, sitting down beside Scorpius on the couch. "So what are your plans for later this evening?"
He shrugged, taking a swig of the butterbeer. "Nothing too adventurous. Patricia's got a gig and your brother's going to watch your other brother, so I'm kind of companionless."
"Do you have a job of some description?" Lily asked, for she had never heard of him actually doing any kind of work and the intellect he did not seem to be putting to good use intrigued her.
Scorpius shrugged. "I'm working at a pub right now, mostly to spite my dad." He noticed her eyes on him and explained, "He wants me to be one of the nameless seat-fillers in some Ministry office."
"That sounds like a dreadfully boring idea," said Lily. "I guess I always imagined you fighting for causes and changing the world and all that."
"What got you thinking that?"
Lily shrugged. "Milton Harper, originally."
"Well, I have to say you're absolutely right."
"What? Really?"
"Yeah," Scorpius said after a moment. Lily turned to him, and it seemed that some kind of daze had overcome his features. His eyes flickered to meet hers. "Funny, that."
Lily looked down, and found that Scorpius's hand was an inch away from hers. She could have taken it, but she definitely did not desire to, and instead, she coughed. "Guess I know you better than I thought."
Sobered up, Scorpius replied, "yeah, guess so."
"Listen," said Lily, "if you wanted, you could come to the match – Al's going to be there, and Andy, and I think Cordelia will, too, because James said he and his mates had plans afterwards and he's actually started including her in that – yeah, I know," she added, noticing the surprised expression on Scorpius's face, "and anyway, you would have mates there, and you said you didn't have plans, and we're technically allowed to bring plus-ones into the box with us – so just – you know, if you want…"
He was looking at her, and he tended to that very often, and Lily had just begun to notice. His face was oddly vulnerable, and she decided this was odd for there was nothing about the situation that should have rendered him so, but the way his grey-green eyes were fixed on her left behind a feeling that she didn't think she'd ever experienced. He had a strange effect on her, Scorpius did.
"If I'm not intruding – "
" – You really wouldn't be, I promise," said Lily immediately, so quickly it surprised her. "Mum's going to be in the press box and the rest of us are just going to be hanging out with the other players' guests who are there. Just – if you want to."
"I think you've already said that," Scorpius told her, smirking.
"Consent is important," Lily replied, feeling rather silly. "Plus, Al's probably forgotten all about the inflatable magpie and I'd rather not carry it with me."
"So you're asking me to be your date to a Quidditch match simply because you want me to carry an inflatable magpie?"
"I never said anything about you being my date!"
"I think you'll find you did." He put his fingers up like quote marks. "'We're allowed to bring plus-ones.'"
"It didn't mean you'd be mine, I just – "
" – Sure, sure, whatever – "
"I'm Al's sister! And you have a girlfriend!"
Scorpius opened his mouth but the last word of Lily's retort seemed to have stopped him dead. There was a heavy pause, and then he said, "Right. Where's this inflatable magpie, then?"
Andy Fawcett threw her arms around Cordelia, who in turn patted her friend on the top of her very bushy head. There were others in the guest box, including Beater Ricky Chapman's wife Abigail and their daughter Kimberley, and new Australian transfer Luke Meade's cousin Michael. Lily was eyeing him from across the room, while Albus asked her to explain yet again why she had brought Scorpius to the match. Andy's attention was still very much fixed on Cordelia.
"What are you doing after the match? You should come out for a drink with Al and I!"
Cordelia shook her head apologetically. "I'd love to, but I'm going to James's – "
" – You're doing what?" Andy interjected.
" – You're doing who?" Scorpius echoed, for he was standing beside them on the pitch side of the box. "Tell me you're not here as a trophy g – "
Cordelia smacked his arm. "I am nothing of the sort, thank you!" She glared. "Honestly, Scorpius – you're such a prick – "
" – I'd rather be a prick than have one," he muttered, poking his little finger up in the air.
Cordelia grabbed his hand and yanked it down. "I don't know who you're going on about. But no, I am not just here as a Quidditch wag. I'm here watching the match and then I'm going to meet a few friends at one of their houses afterwards. Is that such a crime?"
"It is when the friend used to want – "
" – Shut up, you," Andy told Scorpius. "Cordelia can be friends with whomever she likes, and she can be more than friends with whomever she likes. For example, that Luke Meade bloke – " She pulled her omnioculars up to her eyes as the Magpies took to the field. " – Oh, he's gorgeous, isn't he, Cordelia?"
The journalist smiled faintly, saying only, "I usually prefer darker hair."
Scorpius rolled his eyes and moved back to Al, who was no longer arguing with his sister. The pair of them watched the last players take to the air, then the balls were released and the game began.
James's hands were the first on the Quaffle, and he whizzed through the air towards the Tornadoes' goalposts, dodging players this way and that. A Bludger was on his trail, and he could obviously tell, so he dropped the Quaffle down to Meade, who was flying below. The party watching from the box moved to the glass window to see the action more clearly.
Chasers swirled through the air, interweaving with Beaters, and Keepers made dives that seemed impossible. Seekers soared overhead, circling the pitch, searching for the tiny winged ball that no crowd member really believed could be found this early.
"Bet you wish you were up there," Scorpius muttered to Lily, who stood beside him with wide brown eyes.
"With James? Shoot, I've had a lifetime of that."
He furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you want to do, then?" he asked, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
Lily turned to him, momentarily ignoring the Quidditch. "Change the world," she said.
Lily's attention returned to the match, but Scorpius's did not. His gaze lingered on her face a while, masked by something like incredulity. She fascinated him, this girl.
Wait. No.
He wheeled around, very nearly colliding with Al in the process, and then launched into a jokey commentary with the dark-haired boy.
"And Potter takes the Quaffle! Surprisingly, the weight of it does not make him plummet to the ground, unlike Cordelia's jaw, which you can now find on the floor–"
Both Albus and Scorpius burst out laughing, their eyes flickering from the match to Cordelia, who in all fairness was completely transfixed. She pulled her omnioculars up and then back down again, her lips parted. Scorpius pretended to wipe away tears.
"It's Gale of the Tornadoes in possession," said Al. "Of both the Quaffle and a ridiculous pun for a last name, that is!"
Andy, still beside Cordelia, snapped at her boyfriend, "Shut up! Some of us are actually trying to watch!"
Lily nudged Scorpius. "Yeah – shut up, idiot."
"Oh, but don't you think I'm funny?"
"I struggle with finding you cool, mate."
He laughed. "Don't start that again, love."
"Don't call my sister 'love'," Al cut in. He looked past Scorpius to Lily. "Do I have to stand in the middle of you two?"
She rolled her eyes. "You're acting like I've snogged him, Al. And we both know which one of us actually has."
Outraged, Albus glared at her. "Oi! I think you'll find it was a life or death situation!"
"Don't be embarrassed of it," said Lily casually. "I'm just saying."
"In case you two haven't noticed," Scorpius piped up, his eyes flitting from Potter to Potter, "your brother just scored."
"What?"
Both siblings jumped for their omnioculars and Scorpius extracted himself from their proximity, narrowly missing the inflatable magpie one of the Potters had dropped nearby. He found Andy and Cordelia's company, less than a foot away, much better paced.
James scratched the back of his neck. "The others… haven't shown up."
"Oh," said Cordelia, leaning against the doorframe of the drawing room. "That's funny – I was just talking to Barbara about it yesterday."
James half-laughed and bit his lip. "She sent me an owl this morning to say they couldn't make it."
"That is a strange coincidence."
She moved forward, taking a few steps into the drawing room and, in due course, closer to James. He looked tired, and understandably so – he had just played a Quidditch game, and there was probably nothing he wanted to do more than sleep. Cordelia suddenly felt as though she were intruding.
"I – I can go," she told him rather aggressively. James's eyes widened, but Cordelia did not meet them. "I mean, you've just had a match, and you must be knackered, and no one else is here, so it's not like – "
" – Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He lunged forward, grabbing Cordelia's arm as she made to leave. "With all due respect, Cordelia, that's pretty much the last thing I'd like you to do right now."
She smiled at him. "Nice to have some company after a match, then?"
"Oh, definitely," he replied. "Especially if it's someone I like as much as you."
"Easy, tiger."
An hour later, they had left the drawing room, where four bottles of butterbeer had been placed on the table between the two couches like an art fixture. They had talked about Christmas, and Quidditch, and when Cordelia suggested that they get some air, James very near launched himself off the couch. They had walked the perimeter of the square outside the house, and then branched out, and very soon James and Cordelia were using their long strides to trace the length of the River Thames.
"You know, Luke Meade isn't just a pretty face," James was saying to Cordelia.
"Oh, you don't have to tell me twice," she replied. "I've interviewed him, remember?"
James dodged a late-night tourist party and asked seriously, "wait, he wasn't the one flirting with you, was he?"
Cordelia smiled, and it was a smile that made James very wary – it was the kind of smile she used to give him. "Well, he wasn't the only one flirting, if that's what you mean."
He gulped, backtracking. "Uh – you know he transferred here from Australia, right? He's from the other side of the world. Where would you live?"
She laughed, turning to him. "I'm not marrying a teammate of yours, James."
"Because he's on my team or because you genuinely don't want to marry him?"
"Because when I bring up an attractive bloke it shouldn't leap to marriage," Cordelia reasoned, nudging James, who put an arm around her.
"Oh – uh – is this okay?" He asked quickly, of their positioning.
Cordelia leaned her head into him. "This is nice. I was cold anyway."
They walked a little way further, past bright restaurants and pubs, past phone boxes and statues and street signs, past others on the path and past acknowledging anything that was perhaps happening between them. There were Muggle Christmas songs playing somewhere in the distance, and Cordelia stopped speaking about the Beatles exhibition in Liverpool to listen to them. James watched her in the almost darkness; he could see his own silhouette shadowing her face. Her eyes were brown, like his, but there seemed to be entire constellations of gold glittering inside them, and when she brought her gaze up to meet his, James vowed to defend the beauty of brown eyes to anyone who ever called them dull.
"Do you like them, then?"
"What?" he asked quietly.
"Carols," she replied. "They always make you nostalgic, don't they, even if it's nostalgic for the time you're currently experiencing?"
James smiled down at her. "I'm already pretty nostalgic for now."
"Me too," she admitted, smiling back. Luke Meade did not seem high on her list now.
They decided to cross the street and return home the way they came. James tried not to let it get to him that Cordelia referred to his house as home for the two of them, because it did not mean anything, and it could not, because she did not see him that way anymore and she was so happy for them to be friends. It wasn't right of him to want more than that when she didn't. It wasn't fair to either of them.
There was a florist's shop near where James lived, and the sign hanging out onto the street was fully adorned for Christmas. The springs of holly and mistletoe tied there made James's heart jump into his throat. (And, apparently, his mouth.)
"What would you do if I kissed you right now?" he blurted out to Cordelia.
"Punch you in the face, probably."
He laughed. "Wouldn't reciprocate?"
Cordelia shrugged. "Maybe a bit. Why do you ask?"
James pointed at the sign, now directly above their heads. Both he and Cordelia stopped walking. "Mistletoe," said he.
"Bugger off," said she.
She made to keep walking, and he smirked at her. Reaching out, he took her hand, and almost immediately, she retraced her steps to stand in front of him.
"Are you seriously going to waste perfectly good mistletoe?" he asked.
Cordelia bit her lip, looking up at James. Then, slowly, she tiptoed up and kissed him.
She pulled away almost immediately, and James's free hand wound around her waist, trying to keep her entwined with him forever, but she pressed her fingers to his chest and each one shattered his newfound reverie with equal force.
"Let's not put all our cards on the table at once, eh, James?"
She was trying to laugh, and so was he, and they were both equally breathless after what had just happened.
"No – no, of course not." He grinned at her, back to ignoring the way his stomach lurched and the fact that as he fell asleep that night he would undoubtedly be replaying the last couple of hours over and over in his head. "That would ruin the friendship thing we've got going on."
Cordelia smiled. "We do make pretty good friends, don't we?"
"Oh, I'd say so, Poppins."
When they reached the front steps of James's house, he turned to Cordelia and asked, "D'you want to hang out next week? Just – if you're not working? Or – if you are?"
She smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be fun."
"Do you want a cup of tea now, though?" He gestured to the kitchen, which the two of them could see from the threshold of the house.
Cordelia looked at her watch. "It's getting late, James. Are you sure you're not tired? I mean, you can go to bed if – "
James laughed. "You keep talking like that and I'll start thinking you fancy me, Cordelia."
"That'd ruin the whole thing, wouldn't it?"
He nodded, trying not to think about the plummeting feeling in his chest. "Tea?"
"I'd love some."
Barbara strode through the cold post-Christmas air to meet her friends for lunch. She had not seen Molly in a few weeks, and the same could be said of Elena, so the three of them had organized to meet on the wizard side of Greenwich. She was not late – Barbara was particularly punctual and always had been – but as she entered the pub, Elena and Molly were already sat at a table by the window, chatting animatedly.
They jumped out of their seats to embrace her before launching into a comprehensive recount of Molly's date with Jason Smith from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, which Barbara listened to with the utmost of interest.
"That's so great!" said Barbara, extending a hand to squeeze Molly's across the table. "It is really funny how we meet the right people."
Molly quirked an eyebrow. "You met Fred on the Hogwarts Express. And I severely doubt I'm going to end up married to Jason."
Elena shrugged. "Well, you never know. I can't imagine eleven-year-old Barbs thought she'd be waking up to grouchy Fred Weasley for the rest of her life."
Molly laughed, but Barbara smiled fondly. "He's not grouchy."
"Oh, I'll bet."
The baker sat over a giant bowl of dough, her wooden spoon swinging around as she made circular motions with her wrist. She was biting her lip, staring off through the window towards the flower shop across the road. Her friend, in the same room, waved a hand in front of the baker's face.
"Can you stop staring at that cute shop attendant?"
Andy sighed. "Is staring at adorable Muggles a crime now?"
Sennen hurried across the kitchen, her wand out, to clear up messes from earlier in the day. It was the fifth time that week she had watched Andy gaze at the flower shop and the clerks who worked there – and it had been going on long before then.
"Hey – didn't you think the girl there yesterday was cute as well?" she remembered. "'Cute' being your overused choice of word?"
Andy rolled her eyes. "Yes, I did, and I think if you spent half the time watching them that I do, you'd notice they're the same person."
Sennen furrowed her brows, rejoining her friend in front of the kitchen window. "Uh, come again? That tousle-haired shop boy is the same person as the rough-and-ready buxom nugget of adorable from yesterday?"
Andy nodded dreamily. "One in the same. Their name's Alex. I think I'm in love."
"I think you're with Al," said Sennen in a firm voice.
Andy's smile faded from her face. Her eyes widened. She seemed to have remembered something appalling. "Oh – oh!" She turned to Sennen, one hand over her mouth. "I've forgotten all about Al! What the hell is wrong with me?"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sennen replied, staring at her friend in complete and utter shock. She pocketed her wand and continued staring. "Andy, this is mental. How in the world could you forget you had a boyfriend? Especially one so moderately-tall-and-handsome as well-meaning-soon-to-be-Auror Al?"
"I – I don't know – I haven't seen him since before Christmas – " She stopped dead. "Christmas!"
Sennen gasped. "Oh, Andy – don't tell me you seriously didn't send him a gift or anything. No 'Season's Greetings'?"
Andy shook her head, standing from her place at the bench. "No, no, I definitely did. I sent him down a huge box of biscuits with different pictures in the icing, I –"
" – Biscuits?" Sennen exclaimed. "You sent your boyfriend of three years 'Merry Christmas' biscuits?" She began pacing. "Andy, I sent my Great Aunt Hannah 'Merry Christmas' biscuits! Look how many times you've made me say 'Merry Christmas' biscuits!"
Andy, now bright red in the face, began shaking her head.
"Why didn't you get him A New Auror's Code by Samantha Plum? He's been wanting that for ages!" Sennen went silent, her hands extended in front of her. Wide-eyed and pale faced, she asked, "Is this why you wanted me to go to the Tumbleweed gig in Hogsmeade? Because we had that massive order for the Annual Florists' Guild and you wanted to - ?"
"No," said Andy quickly. "Al actually asked you to that!"
Sennen sighed, leaning against the refrigerator.
"But…" Andy admitted slowly. "It was the reason I couldn't go to that one London date with Patricia and Scorpius."
Sennen raised her eyebrows. "The one I went to? I thought that was a hangout! For mates! To do mates stuff!" She gulped. "Did you send me out on a date with Albus Severus Potter so that you could get acquainted with a florist?"
With her face hidden in her hands, Andy nodded.
"Have I been playing the girlfriend?"
"Oi!" said the baker. "I wouldn't take it that far! I just happen to be very attracted to a florist who frequents this bakeshop as well as very attracted to my boyfriend – is that too much to handle?"
"…You shouldn't be attracted to a florist as much as you are to your boyfriend. Especially not if you've been with him three years. Sorry, but that's a bit weird."
Andy exhaled and her willpower seemed to leave with the deep breath. "What do you suggest, then? That I dump my boyfriend?"
"If you forgot he existed, then perhaps!"
Patricia shut the door of her penthouse residence, aware of the light in the front room though unaware that her boyfriend was also present. She very nearly dropped her handbag when one of his feet appeared above the back of the couch.
"What are you doing?"
Scorpius smirked, climbing over furniture to stand in front of his girlfriend. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I was lurking. Now I'm in the middle of kissing my girlfriend."
She allowed him to continue, meeting her lips with his, but as he made to repeat himself, she took a step back. After a long day of rushing four young men from WWN station to WWN station, Patricia Day had neither the energy nor the patience to accommodate a fifth. Scorpius would pretend to understand, and she knew that. Deep down, he couldn't, though. That was the truth of it. She was working practically non-stop, and she was very near having to quit her Diagon Alley job what with the attention Tumbleweed was getting – yet here he was, spending his days lying on sofas and spending his great grandfather's money. It took very much of Patricia's remaining consciousness not to sigh in exasperation.
"What did you do today, then?" she asked, stepping around Scorpius on her way to their bedroom. She discarded her handbag there, as well as her high-heeled shoes, and listened to him explain his various trains of thought and how Lily had mentioned wanting to do the same thing as him.
"And what's that, exactly? Loiter aimlessly and work in a pub to spite family? Claiming your nonchalance is some Muggle fashion called punk?"
Scorpius investigated her return to his side with narrowed grey eyes. "While I am punk and while I will pretend to ignore that sly dig at what I've been doing the past couple of years, I would like to say that no, what you've just said is not true. Lily says she wants to change the world, too. See! There's someone else!"
Patricia raised her eyebrows. "Since when is Al's little sister any consolation in your latest political fad?"
Scorpius's eyes widened, his grin doing the same. "Milton Harper, Trish! Lily and I were a good team on that!"
"It was an eleven-year-old with a broken arm at Hogwarts, babe; is that so much of a victory?"
"Anything's a victory if it helps someone out," said Scorpius sincerely, reaching out to take her hand.
Patricia pulled away. "That's a really nice belief system, Scorpius. But where's it getting you? Two years of sitting on your arse doing nothing productive? What victories have you achieved?"
"Where is this coming from?!" Scorpius exclaimed.
"Why don't you ask Lily?" said Patricia coldly. "If you two make such a good team."
"Hey – that's not fair!"
"Then why do you look panicked?" She sighed. "I love you, Scorpius, but I just… you're so smart, and so talented, but you're always saying 'tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow', and pushing things into the future. One day you're going to wake up and it's going to have passed you by."
He stared at her. "Will you have?"
She blinked back tears she honestly had not been expecting. "Right now I'm really not sure."
