Scorpius loved to fly.

He loved the feel of wind in his hair and on his face, of the broom under his knees, of the complete freedom that his broomstick gave him. As though he could go anywhere in the world that he so desired.

Which, now that he thought about it, was probably true. Not that he would necessarily want to fly to Brazil, but it was possible.

Quidditch was fun too, of course, but he could really care less about the competitive aspect of the game. He just liked it because it gave him a chance to fly.

Not that he could play Quidditch here at Hogwarts. It was allowed, technically, and the Ravenclaw team had a second year flying for them, but with the Gryffindor Team dominated by experienced older players, he didn't have a shot, no matter how badly he wanted it. The team had only just accepted James Potter, and he was the best seeker the school had seen since his own father, and a fourth year to boot.

Perhaps next year, when the keeper graduated. If he practiced a little with Rose and Albus, who were both eyeing the chaser position, he was sure he could try out, at least. He was a fair hand at keeping.

A sudden roar of the crowd drew his attention from the imaginary Quidditch game in his head to the real one on the field: Gryffindor had just scored the first goal of the game.

"Amelia Proctor with the goal!" The announcer, a cheery Hufflepuff named Sydney Kelp was saying, as Amelia took a celebratory flip.

Then she was off again, and she and her fellow chasers Colette Harding and Alex Phelps were scoring goal after goal against the hapless Ravenclaws, who could barely retaliate.

"And Gryffindor Keeper Henry Glancer saves another goal," Sydney announced, just as Albus leaned over and shouted over the roar of the crowd, "They really don't stand a chance, do they?"

"Traditionally," Rose added matter-of-factly, "the Gryffindor Quidditch team has dominated competition ever since the Second Wizarding War, probably due to—"

"Rose," Albus said, a little irritably, "We don't care about tradition. We only care that we're about to win this game!"

And as if to illustrate his point, Sydney Kelp suddenly screamed, "Harding with another goal, Gryffindor is up by eighty points!"

"I thought it was interesting," Scorpius hastened to assure Rose, who was looking rather disappointed. "Why are we traditionally so good?"

But she didn't answer him. She was too busy eying Albus, who was now eyeing Elizabeth Banner, three rows down.

"Poor girl," Rose murmured, "He's never going to give up."

"Who's that boy she's with?" Scorpius asked suddenly, seeing Elizabeth turn to speak up at a gangly boy with curling sandy hair.

"Emmett Barnes," Rose replied, "His sister, Julia, is in our year."

Scorpius grinned. "Think old Alby has some competition?"

"Actually," Rose replied, studying the two first years with a clinical efficiency, "the way they regard each other is much friendlier, even more familial, than romantic. I wouldn't worry."

Scorpius was about to tell her how unworried he was when Sydney suddenly squeaked, "and Potter has the snitch, Gryffindor wins 260 to 30!"

"Good game, huh?" Albus asked, tearing his eyes from Elizabeth and looking over at them.

"Not really," Scorpius said, "We crushed Ravenclaw. There wasn't really much exceptional playing."

"Right," Albus remarked distractedly, "of course. Oh, look! There's that girl that was sitting in our chair!" He spoke with exaggerated surprise, and when he turned to look at Scorpius again, his face was a caricature of shock. "What was her name again? Eleanor? Eloise?"

"Elizabeth?" Rose asked drily.

"Oh, right," Albus said with feigned shock, "That was it! Hello, Elizabeth!" He called.

If he didn't think that it would have been terribly obvious, Scorpius would have buried his face in his hands.

Elizabeth swung around wildly, searching for the person calling her, and then blushed furiously when her gaze landed on Albus, who was waving rather maniacally.

"Hello," he said, when he caught up with her, "did you enjoy the game?"

She nodded, a little cautiously.

"Look," he said suddenly, "I wanted to apologize for startling you the other night, I just wanted to introduce myself."

"It's okay," she said in a whisper.

"So," Albus continued, "maybe we should just start over? I'm Albus Potter. Some people call me Al."

"Elizabeth Banner," she squeaked, "but most people call me Elsie."

"Really? I've never heard that nickname before." The two pulled ahead a little, leaving Scorpius and Rose smirking after them.

"I hope that Al never tries to woo me," Rose said.

"Me too," Scorpius agreed earnestly, "incest is frowned upon in many cultures."

"That's not what I meant," she said, shooting him a pointed glance, "He's just… so… awkward."

"When I woo," Scorpius said solemnly, "I will try to avoid awkwardness at all times."

"Don't woo too soon, please." Rose made a little face. "I want you for a little longer before you run off with some Venetian hussy or something."

"I wasn't aware that the word 'hussy' was still commonly used," he laughed, earning a glare."Don't worry," he said, placating her and swinging an arm around her shoulders, "I'm not running anywhere, and I won't be for a long time."