The team had unanimously decided that Quidditch practice should be cancelled today. The decision had been made with smiles all round, however, because the whole school had woken that Saturday morning to six inches of snow. The first snow of the year.
The sky was a piercing blue and the clouds were grey and miserable-looking, but the grounds had been covered in a generous layer of sparkling white and there were still giant snowflakes falling in fanciful spirals to the ground. There wasn't an unhappy face anywhere to be seen in castle that morning as Albus sat down to breakfast in his usual place. There was snow falling from the enchanted ceiling and excited chatter among everyone at the Slytherin table.
"Good morning," said Scorpius as he helped himself to a slice of toast. "I assume practice was postponed?"
Al nodded, grabbing a couple of slices himself. "It was indeed. Not that I mind terribly. We get to have snowball battles, now. You in?" He grinned, determined to get Scorpius out into the snow whether he liked it or not.
Scorpius sighed and buttered his toast. "Do I have a choice?" he asked, and Albus chuckled.
"You know you don't." He grabbed the jam from the middle of the table and slathered both his slices until they were almost drowning. "Anyway, it'll be fun. And you need the exercise."
"Do I?"
"Of course." Al nodded, taking a large bite out of his toast and continuing with his mouth full. "You spend all day sitting on your bum reading. You hardly ever get out." He finished chewing and swallowed, catching the disapproving look Scorp gave him. He blushed and gave a small apologetic grin. "And besides, I want you on my team."
Scorpius smiled and shook his head, which Albus took to mean 'fine'. He took another bite out of his toast, grinning smugly to himself. He'd already planned out his attack on James and he just wondered if James had planned his attack, too. He wouldn't put it past him. He turned to face the Gryffindor table and saw his brother looking directly at him, smirking. Al frowned and clenched his fist under the table.
"If I catch hypothermia and die, Albus, I'm blaming it entirely on you."
Al turned to Scorpius again, who was grinning at him and raising an eyebrow.
"Alright," Al agreed, nodding. "But if you don't, you have to do all my homework for the next month. Deal?"
Scorpius laughed and pushed himself up from the table. "Finish your breakfast," he said, before making his way from the Great Hall. Al shrugged and tucked back into his toast.
After breakfast was finished, Al made his way back down to the Common Room. Most of the other Slytherins were busy putting on gloves and hats, getting ready to go out. Mike, Jeremiah, Alex and Craig were sitting by the fireplace discussing Quidditch and Al felt guilty for not wanting to join them. Alex caught his eye, though, and waved him over, so Al perched on the arm of the couch beside his team mates, leaning against the backrest.
"We were just discussing the possibility of getting tickets for the Swallows game this month," informed Craig. "The only tickets left are the really expensive ones, though. My dad tried to get some, but he can't afford the boxes. We were thinking, if we all pitch in, we can probably get two tickets."
Al's face lit up momentarily, but it faded instantly when he realised what that meant. "But there are seven of us," he said. "Who would get the tickets?"
"Yeah…" said Alex. "That's what we were trying to decide. We were thinking, whoever got to go could try and meet the team afterwards. Like… get into the V.I.P room or something. If we can talk to them we might be able to get some tips. Like Hofton did."
"So," cut in Mike. "We thought the person in the best position to get into the V.I.P area would be you. What with your dad being famous and all…"
Albus couldn't help the butterflies from taking flight in his tummy when he heard that, but he kept as straight a face as he could manage. He nodded, trying to look unaffected. "Right," he said. "And who else?"
"Well, we thought you should choose," replied Mike, shrugging.
Al blinked at them for a while, looked at them each in term, then sighed, feeling the butterflies settle slightly. He had to choose? He hated choosing. Especially when it was between people. And they all looked so hopeful.
"Well..?" urged Alex, and Albus frowned.
"I'm not choosing now," he said, standing up. "We don't even have the tickets, yet. What if we can't get them? How much do they even cost?"
"Um… one hundred and ten Galleons, fourteen Sickles and three Knuts," said Craig quietly.
Albus blinked.
"Each."
There was a silence for a while, then Albus nodded. "Right," he said, suddenly feeling a lot less excited about the whole thing than he had a few moments ago. "So… we're going to try and get two hundred and twenty Galleons, twenty eight Sickles and six Knuts together in time for the match in just over two weeks?"
His team mates looked at him for a while, then nodded silently.
Al sighed. "Alright. We can ask our parents if they're willing to help us out. We'll tell them it's for the benefit of the team, since Hofton got to meet the Swallows. Short of robbing Gringotts, that's all we can really do."
"My uncle might help us out, too," said Jeremiah. "He's sitting on a hoard he doesn't really know what to do with."
"And I've got a job lined up for the Christmas holidays," Craig chimed in. "It won't be much, but it'll be a something."
"Alright, then," Al said, not really fancying their chances, but clinging to the vain hope that they might actually manage to pull it off. "We'll do it, then. When we get the tickets I'll make a decision, alright?"
The team all nodded.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I've got a snowball fight to attend." He grinned and made his way up to his dormitory to see Scorp sitting on the end of his bed, dressed head to toe in thermals and waterproof dragon hide boots, reading a book. He looked up when Al walked over to his bed and smiled.
"I was just about to go looking for you," he said as Al opened up his trunk and rummaged around inside. Al pulled out a thick woollen jumper and jacket sat on the edge of his mattress, facing Scorp.
"I was just talking to the team," he informed, pulling his jumper over his head.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. They're talking about saving up money to get tickets to the Swallows game. They said they can only get two, but that if they get them, I should go because of my dad, so I…"
He trailed off and frowned, concerned by the fact that all the colour had just drained from Scorp's face. "Um… are you okay?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.
Scorpius looked at him for a while, then quickly got up off his bed and opened up his trunk. Albus had no idea what was going on. He stood up and walked over to his friend, wondering why he suddenly seemed so frantic. Was he looking for something? He was about to ask again if everything was alright when Scorpius stood up, faced him and held out his hand, in which was clutched a gold envelope.
"I'm sorry," Scorp said, sounding somewhat out of breath. "I was going to wait until the holidays to give you these, but I'm worried they'll be useless by then. I don't want to step on anybody's toes."
Albus was confused. He looked from Scorpius' face, to the envelope in his hand, then back to Scorp's face again. "Sorry?"
"Take them," Scorp said, and Albus took the envelop from Scorp's hand. He looked at it for a while, not sure if he was meant to open it or just say thank you.
"Look inside," Scorp prompted, and Albus was relieved he'd not had to ask. He opened the envelope and took out the two pieces of paper inside. They were white with fancy gold lettering which read 'The Southampton Swallows Vs. The Bedford Badgers, 2:30pm, Tuesday 28th of December, Hamble Arena.'
Albus wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at for the first few seconds, then his whole body nearly turned to jelly when realisation struck. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he read and re-read the words on the ticket. Ministry Box it said. And there were two of them. Two tickets to the Swallows game on the 28th. In the Ministry Box!
He looked up at Scorpius and suddenly felt absolutely horrible. He held them back out to Scorpius, trying to shove them back into his hands.
"What are you doing?" Scorpius asked, looking confused. Albus shook his head.
"I can't… I can't take these," he said, feeling his whole body tingle. "These are really expensive seats. I can't accept these…" God, he could only imagine how much these must have cost. He couldn't let someone spend money like that on him. Especially not Scorpius. And… oh Merlin… what if Scorpius had bought them for him because of all the whining he'd been doing about not being able to go? No… he couldn't take them. He'd feel awful.
"No, it's ok," Scorp said, smiling. "I didn't pay for them."
Albus stopped, frowning. "What? Who paid for them?"
"No one," Scorp replied. "My dad got given them from the Ministry. He said he didn't need them so he gave them to me." Scorpius shrugged. "I… well… I don't really like Quidditch, so I thought I'd give them to you." He grinned. "Merry Christmas."
Albus looked back down at the tickets and read them again. He couldn't quite believe his eyes. Or his ears. He turned the tickets over, just to make sure there wasn't a big 'Fooled You' stamped on the back. There wasn't. They were the real thing.
"So you and Joanna can have a good time at game," Scorp said, and Al looked up at him, still feeling as if he were floating around in some sort of beautiful, hazy dream. He nodded.
"Oh… yeah," he said, smiling slightly, before looking back down at the tickets again. He could feel his arms shaking slightly and he wondered if he should maybe sit down, take some deep breaths. "I… don't know what to say. Just…" He looked up at Scorp again and smiled a smile so big it almost made his face ache. "Thank you. So much."
Scorp smiled back at him and shrugged. "It's alright. It's not much of a present, really. I didn't buy it or anything."
"That doesn't matter. It's probably the best Christmas present I'm likely to get in my life." He grinned and looked at Scorp for a while, before flinging his arms round him and pulling him into a tight hug. He looked once again down at the tickets in his hand, over Scorp's shoulder, then closed his eyes, burying his face in Scorp's neck and finding that he smelled rather nice.
