Task 4: Write a story that takes place in the woods.
Cabin Rule: [gen] Next-Gen
Prompt: (time of day) High Noon
WC: 1025
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"Will you slow down!"
It was the thread of anger woven through Albus' words that made Scorpius pause, swaying in place before he stretched out to rest his palm on the gnarled trunk of the tree. The curved edge of the root — growing larger and larger the further beneath the sun-dappled canopy they travelled — pressed against the soles of his trainers, and he turned to watch Albus carefully pick his way towards him.
The other boy hadn't known this type of walk as his parents never moved from their small home in Godric's Hollow, surrounded by carefully managed streets in uniform paving stones, and the woods behind his grandparent's house, The Burrow, were young and cultivated, their trees high but not sprawling.
The woods behind Malfoy Manor were old, ancestral and their roots stretched for miles. Albus was waiting in a small clearing, his shoulders heaving with every rattling gasp, his cheeks a burning pink behind the dark frame of his heavy glasses.
"I can't walk as fast as you," Albus grumbled, his nose scrunching up as he straightened, his hands curling to press against the small of his back.
"I'm sorry." Scorpius hopped down from the root, landing with a grunt and already falling into an easy walk back towards the other boy. "We can stop for lunch now, if you'd like?"
The bag knocked against his thigh as if providing a reminder of the time. The sun burned overhead, shortening the shadows into barely there dark puddles around the bases of the trees and the leaves broke the light into dappled patches of golden colour. Albus had arrived with it that morning, half-curled around it as if he was waiting for Scorpius' judgement on bringing a home-made lunch, but Scorpius deliberately didn't dwell on if it was a sign that Ginny or Harry Potter still didn't trust his family.
"No, just—" Albus sighed, curving his back until he resembled one of the trees, curved with age and captured in the instant before it fell. "Just let me catch my breath."
Scorpius shifted, one hand rising to his lips before he caught himself, forcing it back down to his side before clasping it behind his back. The broken edge of his nail worried at the edges of his mind, bit into the meat of his palm before he caved, biting it off with a crack.
"Are you nervous?" Albus' gaze locked onto Scorpius', his eyes as green as the canopy overhead and as painfully ancient. He stretched out his hand to Scorpius, who took it, twining their fingers together. The heavy ring he wore cut into the edge of his finger before he adjusted their grip and waited for Albus to start walking again before he fell into motion.
"Not nervous," Scorpius said after a few moments of silence, punctuated by Albus' deliberate deep breaths. "But I want this to go well. I want you to have a good time."
"You have never needed to impress me," Albus said, squeezing Scorpius' hand tightly before his thumb shifted to press against Scorpius' Malfoy family ring, tapping it to hear the metal sing due to the careful web of Charms that had been layered over it. "I'm not friends or with you because of this."
"I know. It's just—" Scorpius made a helpless noise in the back of his throat as if he could compact every false smile that fell the moment he stepped away from the conversation and every barely hidden whispers that sunk into his exposed back like knives. The Potters were protected from the eddies and debris that the Malfoy family had sunk into in the storm of their society.
The heat pressed down on him, sweat slipping down his spine and clinging to his forehead, and Scorpius knew that he was walking quicker when Albus began to slow once more, a strange hitch in his breathing.
"We're nearly there." Scorpius scanned the horizon, the glint in the distance catching his eye and excitement burned in his chest. When he had invited Albus' over, his plan had been half-formed from a passing thought, but he was always surprised when the other boy accepted. It was a strange way to live, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Albus to turn away from him, but Scorpius didn't know any other way.
"I can fly no problem," Albus grumbled, knocking his shoulder into Scorpius' as they moved through the trees. "But this cross-country hiking is not my thing."
"Next time, we can go flying? Dad mentioned that there should be an old obstacle course that we can clean up so it's functional and try it out?"
Albus straightened, a familiar glint entering his eye. Scorpius knew that Albus loved flying, but didn't have the stomach for the Quidditch tournaments that the rest of the school lived by. There were always too many comparisons to his father for Albus to be truly comfortable with it and Scorpius had seen the other boy curl in on himself more and more with every well-meaning compliment.
"Come on. Mum packed ice cream for after lunch."
The sun hadn't strayed from overhead as they emerged into the clearing. A large stump dominated the centre and curved roots broke free of the earth like living arches, emblazoned in gentle pastel flowers. As they stood on the edge, butterflies shuddered into the air, their wings a flash of bright colour before they settled once more.
Scorpius turned to look at Albus, taking in his wide eyes and his slack jaw, his shoulders still before his breathing carefully resumed, hushed so he wouldn't disturb the hallowed silence that had settled over them. Scorpius curled downwards and kissed Albus' cheek, feeling the burst of heat as the other blushed but didn't pull away.
"Do you like it?"
Albus nodded, swaying into Scorpius and settling into his side. His eyes didn't linger on any one place for long, trying to take everything in before Scorpius urged them both forwards. It had been a long walk to get here, but, with the lunch they had packed, it would all be worth it.