A/N: It's sort of a pre-slash thing, with pining Albus, but it can also be read as platonic!
Prompts: NEXT GEN / GREAT HALL / LIGHT UP REINDEER SLIPPERS / "You're so hard to please."
A shower of paper snowflakes caught Albus off-guard as he ducked through the doors to the Great Hall.
"Mind yourself, Potter!" Flitwick squeaked, as he floated past on a silver platter. Squares of paper and several pairs of scissors surrounded him like a particularly sharp flock of birds; he left a trail of paper cuttings on the floor as he sailed towards the nearest window.
"Sorry, Professor," Albus said begrudgingly. "Watch out for the… "
But as Flitwick floated airily towards the suit of armour, Albus decided he had better things to do than try and avert fate's will, and made a beeline for the Slytherin Table. Scorpius was sitting at the far end, near the teacher's table, all alone. Things had mostly calmed down since their first few years, and although they didn't have hundreds of friends—or fans, like James—they got along better with most of their Classmates. But Albus still gravitated towards the quiet parts of the castle, and Scorpius still preferred his company over anyone else's.
"Hey," Albus said, slotting into the seat opposite his best friend. "You didn't wait for me this morning. And you weren't at breakfast."
Scorpius hummed idly, paying more attention to the book in front of him than the plate of rapidly cooling mashed potatoes. Something about his serene expression gave Albus pause, and he slid his bag under the bench slowly, backtracking through their last conversations.
"You're not still in a mood with me over last night, are you?"
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Scorpius said, in an overly sweet voice. "Why would I be in a mood with you?"
Albus sighed. There was no point trying to reason with him when he was like this, so instead he dragged the gravy boat towards him and helped himself to a handful of yorkshire puddings.
"Flitwick almost killed me on the way in," he said conversationally. "I'm not sure they should let him anywhere near scissors, not after what happened with that Transfigured pincushion. But at least the hall looks nice, I guess. I bet Hogsmeade looks nice too; they always go all out for the holiday. We could go in next weekend and have a look around? I have to pick up a Christmas present for Gran, but I can't get her another apron, so I'm stumped. Oh, and Rose wants to marry you and have your babies."
Scorpius slammed the book shut and glared at him over their dinner. Albus tore a bit of yorkshire pudding off and popped it in his mouth, eyebrow raised.
"Your potatoes are getting cold," he added, when Scorpius seemed doomed to stare forever instead of speaking.
"I prefer them cold," Scorpius snapped, though in truth, whenever Scorpius was in a mood, he looked more like a depressed Flobberworm than anything truly frightening, so it was more of a sulk than a snap. "And I'm not in a mood. I just don't want to talk about it."
"I wasn't talking about it," Albus pointed out. "I don't even know what it is. I was talking about your future babies."
"Who's having babies?" Lily said, right in his ear.
Albus startled so badly that he dropped his fork in the gravy boat; it sailed away before he could stop it, summoned by a Third Year on the other side of the table. Lily slid into the bench beside him, all her teeth showing in a perfect grin. The only reason Albus didn't launch the mashed potato at her was because he could hear Scorpius laughing quietly into his hands, and he liked the sound. Didn't mean he liked Lily though.
"Quit doing that," he hissed. "What are you doing over here? You're supposed to sit with the rest of your loud, annoying brethren."
"You don't have to make us sound like vikings," Lily said, although she didn't sound all that put out. "I'd make a pretty good viking though."
"You do have the hair for it," Scorpius said.
"I do, don't I? It's a shame I never learned to braid it."
"You never answered my question," Albus said.
"I could braid it for you," Scorpius offered.
"Really?"
Scorpius nodded and patted the spare seat, and Lily brightened, hurrying over to sit beside him. Albus frowned as they whispered together, thoroughly ignoring him. The argument they'd had last night had been a tiny little thing at first, about when they were going to exchange Christmas presents, since Scorpius wasn't going home for Christmas and Albus was. He still didn't really know why or how it had devolved so quickly.
"Do you have a comb?" Scorpius asked, as he started separating her hair into pieces. "Or a brush? Maybe some pins too."
Lily swept her hand out, summoning her bag. Out of it spilled scrunchies and beads and lots of stabby little bobby pins that Albus always found in the weirdest places at home, like under his pillow or in the pot with his toothbrush. Scorpius took the lot gratefully, and Albus resigned himself to a quiet lunch spent mostly with himself.
"You!"
The cry tore through the Great Hall. Albus barely had the chance to look up before James slammed a hand down on the table, narrowly avoiding Albus's plate. A few peas jumped up and made a bid for freedom.
"Do you have to be such a brute?" Albus asked, trying to edge away from that severe frown.
"Yeah, it's mandatory." James loomed over him with a keenly disappointed expression. "What's this Dad was saying about you not coming home for Christmas?"
Scorpius's fingers stilled halfway through Lily's braid. "What?"
Albus ignored both of them, spooning more carrots onto his plate. Lily made a noise of confusion, trying to twist her head around.
"I thought we were all getting the Floo back together! It's been planned for ages. Why aren't you coming home?"
"It's not a big deal," Albus said.
"Not a big deal my arse," James said, though he sounded more disappointed than genuinely annoyed, which was kind of nice. "Do you know how long it took me to find a good Christmas present for you? I've even wrapped it already, and now you're not even going to open it in front of me."
Albus sighed. "I can open it now if you like."
James whipped around like he'd just been waiting for the opportunity, and aimed his wand at the Great Hall doors. More than one person was watching their little performance now, although most people were used to the Potter Weasley shenanigans. The staring only got worse when James opened his big mouth.
"Accio Albus's Christmas present!"
"Did you really just—?"
"Why aren't you going home for Christmas?" Scorpius blurted out.
It seemed as though the entire Slytherin Table went quiet at the question, but Albus knew that was probably in his head. He did catch James and Lily exchanging knowing glances though, and glared hard at both of them before turning back to his lunch.
"I just felt like staying here," Albus said. "McGonagall let me use the Floo this morning, and I asked, and he said it was fine."
Truthfully, he'd said it wasn't fine, but that if Albus could explain why he didn't want to spend the holiday with his loving family, he might be inclined to let him. Albus had gone beet-red and inhaled some soot when dad looked at him, deadpan, and said: "It's Scorpius, isn't it?" after some minutes of silence and hedging. And that was that, really.
Scorpius frowned. "But I thought…"
There was a yelp from over by the doors; a First Year dived out of the way just as a badly-wrapped package came speeding through the gap in the doors, heading for James's outstretched arms.
"Sorry!" James yelled to the bemused First Year, catching the package one-handed and waving it in an apologetic salute. "It was an emergency!"
"I really don't think that it was," Albus muttered.
"Don't be a spoilsport," Lily said. "You're the one who's decided to be a lone hermit this Christmas. Or are you staying here too, Scorpius?"
It was said very pointedly. Too pointedly, in fact. Scorpius went a little pink and quickly finished tying off Lily's braid while Albus scowled and mouthed death threats at her.
"I am," Scorpius said eventually. "My father has to go to Paris this Christmas. He asked if I wanted to come along, but it's never as fun as people make it out to be during holiday season. Plus, he's got a lot of meetings."
He trailed off a little awkwardly, and then gently patted Lily on the shoulder to indicate her braid was done. She flipped it over her shoulder to ooh and ahh over it, smiling brilliantly at him. Albus pushed down the vicious curl of jealousy that coiled in his gut.
"Are you going to open the damn present or not?" James demanded, finally tired of being ignored.
Albus sighed and put down his cutlery for what felt like the hundredth time. At his rate, the only way he was going to enjoy a nice lunch was if he dreamed about one later that night. James thrust the package into his hands, and he grimaced at the forest green wrapping paper. James had been extra supportive of Albus's House after realizing how much of a prick he'd been for most of their lives, and Albus was beginning to get a little bit sick of all the green.
"Hurry up, c'mon." James gave him a little shake. "Open it!"
The present was soft and squishy for the most part. He flipped it over to get it open, and something inside it jingled ominously. He shot a weary look at James and finally shred the wrapping paper, revealing a lump of fluffy brown material.
"What… is it?" Albus asked.
"Slippers," Lily said, biting her lip in amusement.
"Not just any slippers," James said, slapping them triumphantly. "Light-up reindeer slippers!"
And sure enough, the two bulbous light bulbs on each nose of the slippers lit up the moment he slapped them. Albus held the slippers the way one might hold a skunk that had just been insulted, or a bottle of cola with several mentos inside. The bulbs flashed red and green and yellow, and then back to red again.
"Do you like them?" James asked, grinning.
Albus looked beseechingly across the table, but Lily had a hand over her mouth, stifling her giggles, and Scorpius actually looked a little endeared by the whole scene.
"No, James," he said, wincing as the bells on the end of the reindeers antlers jingled again. "I don't like them."
"What?" James looked genuinely crestfallen. "You seriously don't like them?"
"Why would anyone like them? They're light up reindeer slippers."
"Exactly!" James sagged, sighing. "You're so hard to please."
"No, I'm not," Albus said, baffled. "I just don't want to wear light up reindeer slippers."
"Are you really not going home for Christmas?" Scorpius asked.
All three of them turned to look at him; Scorpius blushed and whipped open his book, pretending not to notice their stare. For some inexplicable reason, it made Albus blush too.
"I think that's our cue, Jamie," Lily said, far too bright and chirpy for Albus's liking.
She slipped off the bench, ruffling Scorpius's hair with her chipped lilac-painted nails. She came around the table and slotted her elbow through James's, dragging him across the Great Hall. Albus watched them go, measuring the odds of the slippers making contact if he chucked them at Lily's back. He'd never been much of a Chaser. He shoved a few plates aside and let the slippers flop on the tablecloth, their noses still twinkling brightly.
"Are we on speaking terms now?" Albus asked.
Scorpius made a vague noise, still eyeing his book. Albus picked up a bit of carrot and gently tossed it across the table, but it was swept away by a whisper of wandless magic.
"Seriously, Scorpius," Albus said, lowering his voice a little. "Please talk to me. You're my best friend, and if there's one thing I hate more than anything, it's fighting with you."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Scorpius finally demanded, sounding upset and guilty. "I wouldn't have been in such a mood this morning if I'd—oh, you're so infuriating. I wish you'd told me!"
Albus made a strangled noise of incredulity. "You wouldn't talk to me! You didn't wait for me this morning, so I couldn't tell you that I was going to ask Dad about staying here, and when I tried to tell you earlier, you refused to pull your nose out of your book. I still don't even know why we were arguing last night. It's not like I was going to let you spend Christmas all on your own!"
"You didn't say anything last night about staying, and you didn't invite me to yours, so I just got upset," Scorpius said, glancing nervously down the table and then slumping in his seat. "Your Christmas present hasn't arrived, and I wanted to see you open it. So I got upset when I realized I wouldn't, that's all."
Albus narrowed his eyes. "That's all?"
"I'll apologize for lashing out later, when the whole Hall isn't listening in," Scorpius murmured, with another slightly apologetic glance down the table. Most of the Slytherins weren't that concerned with their argument, but a few were glancing their way and grinning. Albus flipped them off, and their grins only widened.
"Fine," Albus said, going back to his cold dinner. "We'll make a date out of it. I'll wear these disgusting slippers, and you can do a speech or something."
"That sounds like a nice plan," Scorpius said quietly. When Albus chanced a glance up at him, he was smiling ever so slightly, eyes back on his book.
"Good," Albus grumbled, fidgeting about because it was chilly that day, not because Scorpius looked very pretty when he was gently excited for something, not at all. "Oh, and you better figure out what you want for Christmas because I haven't actually got round to it yet. Unless you want a pair of light up reindeer slippers."
"Oh," Scorpius said, and there was no mistaking the faint, tentative hope in his voice. "Ah, I know you're joking, but I…"
"You want the slippers."
Scorpius paused, and then showed off the infinitesimal space between his forefinger and thumb. "A little bit."
Albus snorted, and levitated the slippers across the dinner table. They were, perhaps, the most obnoxious, gaudy things he'd ever laid eyes on. Hovering halfway over the brussels sprouts, the bells began to jingle, and their noses lit up in an array of dazzling colours again. Scorpius looked delighted, his hands fluttering around in the air as his excitement got the better of him.
"I'm still getting you a better gift," Albus muttered, but privately, it felt a little bit like there was no better gift than watching Scorpius smile like that. Even if it was over a pair of horrible slippers.
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