Albus and Scorpius' feet crunched on the stony path down to Hagrid's, and thanked their lucky stars that their lessons finished early on Mondays and they could get this over and done with before dark. Students wandered back towards the castle as the Clock Tower chimed to signal the start of their next class. The wind blew fiercely and Scorpius shivered.

"Do you want my cloak?" Albus offered, hands already on his fastenings. Scorpius shook his head.

"I'll b-be okay," he managed. "Thank you." Ordinarily, they'd have cast Warming Charms on themselves, but their instructions were strict: no wands to be used. As such, their spellcasting ability lay on their nightstands back in their dormitory. The ground curved beneath them and they jogged slightly as they went down the slope to Hagrid's.

Smoke puffed out of the chimney in great grey clouds. The garden by the hut was white and icy; only a few stubborn, hardy plants clung to life. Albus pulled his woolly hat down over his ears.

"I always feel like he doesn't like me," Scorpius said suddenly, anxiously. Albus attempted a reassuring smile.

"He just doesn't like your dad," he said. Scorpius hugged himself.

"Yeah, but when people don't like my dad, they usually don't like me."

"Well, that's bullshit. I don't know how anyone could not like you," Albus said. Scorpius smiled weakly and scratched his neck. Albus walked to the door and knocked three times. A gigantic pair of boots and several empty pots cluttered the doorstep. A rusty metal chimaera hung from the wooden planks that made the wall. Its blank eyes bore into Albus'. He raised his eyebrows at it.

"Should we knock again?" Scorpius asked, popping up at his shoulder. Albus shook his head.

"No, give it a moment." Footsteps stomped across the floor.

"Who's there?" demanded a booming voice. The door swung open (Albus and Scorpius jumped back to avoid getting smacked in the face), and the Gamekeeper of Hogwarts, Rubeus Hagrid, stood on the other side. His hair was wild and grey and tangled from his scalp to his elbows, and his tremendous beard made him seem enormous – more enormous than usual. Albus supposed he'd been growing it out for the winter. He had to look up to meet Hagrid's black beetle eyes.

"Hello, Hagrid," he said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his robes. "Er, we're here for our detention. Sorry."

"So sorry to bother you," Scorpius added quickly.

"'S alrigh'. Come in, the pair o' yeh." Hagrid smiled at Albus, but his expression flickered as Scorpius stepped inside. Albus narrowed his eyes. Scorpius grimaced at him when Hagrid turned around.

"Si' down," Hagrid said, rinsing a mug. Albus and Scorpius sat together on a dilapidated gingham couch. One part of the armrest was so worn that the frame was visible. A fire roared. Above it, on the tiny mantel, was a framed photograph. Albus recognised the people in it; his parents, on their wedding day, and Hagrid standing next to Albus' father, crying and dabbing his eyes with a flowery pink handkerchief. There'd been colour in Hagrid's hair back then, and Albus' parents looked no older than Teddy.

"Woah," Scorpius whispered, leaning forwards to get a better look at the picture. "You really do look like your dad."

"I know," Albus said glumly.

Hagrid put the kettle on and opened his cupboard. He pulled out a tin of biscuits.

"Yeh like these?" he asked. Albus had never seen that sort in his life.

"Oh, yes, they're my favourite!" Scorpius said. Albus frowned at him. Scorpius smiled nervously.

"Really?" Hagrid asked, enthusiasm creeping into his gruff voice. "That's summat we have in common. Which one do yeh like?" Hagrid sat in the big armchair, which creaked under his weight. Scorpius wrung his hands.

"Er. Rockmelon?" he said. Rockmelon? Albus stared at him as if he'd sprouted an extra head. If only. Instead, he'd lost his head completely.

"Rockmelon?" Hagrid repeated. "I haven't hear' of that one."

"Oh! It was, erm, limited edition. In – in Bulgaria. We went on holiday there," Scorpius scrambled. Hagrid nodded slowly.

"Righ'," he said. Silence swept into the hut. Albus pulled at his sleeves. Hagrid opened the tin. Several round, hard balls of biscuit were inside, held by little paper cups. They were all different colours – yellow and green and pale blue. None of them looked very edible.

Scorpius leaned forward, took one, and popped it into his mouth. His nose wrinkled and his eyes popped out of his head. He quickly managed to control himself. "Mmm," he said. "Delicious. Thank you." Hagrid ate a biscuit in one swallow. Scorpius finished his, and Hagrid handed him another. Scorpius gulped and took it with the biggest, cheesiest, fakest smile Albus had seen him wear.

Albus' eyes wandered around the hut. He felt guilty that it wasn't more familiar to him; his dad always asked if he'd been to see Hagrid, and the answer was usually 'no'. James and Lily were regulars – he often bumped into them on their way down to or up from the hut. It came easy to them to go for a visit, like everything seemed to. Albus was the only one terrified by the prospect of hanging out and maintaining a conversation with his dad's ninety-something-year-old friend.

Hagrid spoke next. "How is it that yeh got detention in the first place? Neither of yeh are troublemakers," he said. Albus looked at Scorpius, whose cheeks burned red. Albus coughed and scratched his nose. Why was that the question he had to ask? He was no James, pulling pranks that made him the star of the school, or Lily, breaking rules to make blanket forts and sneaking into the Infirmary with flowers she snatched from Longbottom's greenhouses.

"Professor Mazoni doesn't like us much," he mumbled, looking at his shoes.

"'Course he doesn'," said Hagrid. "Ravenclaw, innhe?" The kettle whistled. Hagrid poured them each a cup of tea. His snow-white beard ended up with brown droplets clinging to it. Albus and Scorpius drank in silence. Hagrid cleared his throat loudly, and banged his fist on his knee.

"Righ'," he said. "Yeh'll be shov'llin' the snow outta the front drive and the courtyards when yeh've finished yer tea. No magic, 'course, I got some shovels fer yeh to use. Yeh can pile it up and one o' yer professors will be vanishin' it later on. Alrigh'?"

"Alright," said Albus, as Scorpius said, "yes, sir."

They finished their drinks and Hagrid led them up to the front of the castle. The lawn sloped down in the direction of Hogsmeade, and ordinarily, a long, wide walkway cut the lawn in two. Today, however, it was all the same, no more than a field of snow. Albus had the distinct impression that they stood a foot or two higher than usual. As students entered the Entrance Hall (which magically repelled the snow), they jumped down to the castle floor.

They had their work cut out for them.

"Here yeh are," Hagrid said, producing two shovels out of his gigantic coat. "Yeh're ter clear it from here ter the doors. I'll be potterin' abou', jus' come an' ask if there's somethin' wrong." Albus and Scorpius each took a shovel.

"Will do," Albus said. Hagrid nodded and went into the warmth of the castle, where he was quickly stopped by a teacher. Now Albus and Scorpius were on their own with the snow.

Scorpius turned the shovel over in his hands. "I've never actually shovelled anything before," he said. "Well, aside from in Herbology. Is it hard?" Albus thought of shovelling snow back home with James, which had been a punishment for their fighting. Their parents sat inside with mugs of hot chocolate, watching merrily.

"It's better with good company," he said. "We need a method. I could start from here, and you could start at the doors, or else I could take the left side and you the right." Scorpius squinted at the students hanging by the doors.

"Left and right?" he suggested.

"Yeah," Albus said. They got digging. His pile grew rather quickly, though by the time he reached the ground and cleared an area of a couple of feet, he was panting. He looked over at Scorpius, who had made much less progress. Scorpius stared at the tiny spot he'd cleared, dismayed.

"Couldn't we have polished things?" Scorpius moaned. "I know how to polish things."

A couple of Gryffindors, friends of James', walked past and looked at them curiously.

"How'd you get in the shit, Al?" one called. "James reckons you're the straight-laced one!" Albus grimaced. He recognised the older boy as Aidan Wood, one of James' mates who had accidentally knocked him off a broom during a Quidditch match at home over the summer.

"Well, I guess I'm not as straight as he thinks," Albus shrugged. Scorpius' eyes widened. Aidan stuffed his hands into his pockets cheerfully.

"Al the rebel," he crooned. "I'll be sure to tell him."

Albus dug into the snow once more. "You do that."

Albus made it to the front of the Entrance Hall before Scorpius did, with a long clear line of crunchy gravel behind him. Scorpius huffed and puffed and looked as though he might keel over. He walked over to Albus, dragging his shovel along the ground behind him. Albus leaned against the stone wall of the castle.

"I don't think I'm cut out for this," Scorpius admitted, folding his arms across his chest awkwardly. Albus smirked and raised his eyebrows.

"Then you need to work on not laughing when you hear a teacher checking the corridor," he advised. "Seriously, why did you have to giggle?"

"I was nervous!" Scorpius said.

"So you laughed and made sure he found us!"

"It was an accident!" Scorpius jutted out his chin. Albus shook his head in over-exaggerated disapproval. "You need to get that cloak off your brother."

"James would sooner die," Albus said. "I can't even blackmail him because he has no bloody shame. I've tried! And he just goes and tells Mum and Dad before I can get to them, so I have nothing to hold over him. It's terrible. And smarter than I thought he was capable of being." Scorpius joined him against the wall, and pinched his long nose. Albus took a moment to admire his blond hair and silver-grey eyes and how the snow framed him so well. It was as though someone had painted the wintry grounds and Scorpius using the same palette of colours. They complemented each other. Albus wished they were alone.

"Will they really make us work until all the courtyards are clear too?" Scorpius asked. "I swear if they do, I'll write to my father."

"You sound like a Malfoy," Albus said. Scorpius made a face.

"Sorry. Thank you. I'm working on it."

"I know. I'm just helping you work on it." Albus considered the half-shovelled drive. "They might make us do the Transfiguration courtyard, but it'll be dark after that. Hagrid's not that mean." Scorpius' mouth flattened into a grim line.

"I know you don't like the bathrooms, but it might be in our best interest next time," Scorpius said. Albus sighed heavily.

"I'm coming round to it. Give me time. I'll help you with that side."

He and Scorpius plunged their shovels into the remaining snow that covered the walkway. With a lot of groaning and complaining, they cleared it. Albus' hand brushed Scorpius' and found that it was clammy. Scorpius wrapped his fingers around Albus' thumb and squeezed it. Albus wrenched away.

"Ow," he said. Scorpius swatted his arm, but Albus moved just in time. "Bugger off," he said.

"Drink break?" Scorpius asked hopefully.

"I'll go talk to Hagrid."

Hagrid was perfectly happy to oblige, and Albus returned with two cups of pumpkin juice.

"I was right," Albus said, wiping an orange moustache from his upper lip. "Transfiguration courtyard and we're done. He'll take us through when we're finished with these." Already, the students traipsing inside tracked snow over their nicely shovelled path. Albus figured the sooner they got out of there, the less likely they were to be asked to do it again.

They dropped the cups off in the Great Hall and headed out to the courtyard under Hagrid's easily-distracted eye. They were sheltered from the wind, and for whatever reason, the snow wasn't quite as deep. They made quicker work of it. Scorpius kept catching Albus' eye and smiling at him; in turn, Albus pulled faces and mimed cursing himself. A group of first years dashed through and knocked down one of Scorpius' piles of snow.

"Oi! Get back here! Look what you did!" Albus lifted the shovel over his head and ran towards them. The first years squealed and scattered.

"You'll lose us more points!" Scorpius called. Albus swung the shovel over his head and smacked it against the ground with a threatening bang. Scorpius appeared at his side and rubbed his shoulder. "It's snow, Albus."

"I know," he said, casual as could be, picking up his shovel. "I just wanted to vent."

"At children?" Scorpius asked.

"I don't like children."

"Technically, you are a children."

"No, don't be stupid. I'm a child." The first years scampered past once more, and Albus glared at them, watching closely to make sure they didn't knock any snow down. They were on their best behaviour this time. Good, Albus thought.

"Stop glowering," Scorpius whispered. Albus shrugged him off.

"You're not my mum."

"You should listen to her more."

The sun settled in the mountains as they worked. It was the little glances that kept them going; shared knowing looks when someone walking past said something especially stupid. Finally, finally, they reached rock bottom – and in this case, it was something worth celebrating. Snow piled up in the four corners of the courtyard like the points of a compass. The torches along the walls illuminated the scene more than the sky did, but it mattered little, because Albus could've found Scorpius' beaming smile in the darkest night in the deepest dungeons.

"We did it!" Scorpius whispered. "I thought I'd die."

"I'll get Hagrid," Albus promised. It took a little searching, and Albus' legs ached, but he found Hagrid by the greenhouses.

"Forgo' I was s'posed to be watchin' yeh!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Go' busy talkin' with Professor Longbottom here. Yeh all done then?" They were. Hagrid filled out their slips with a clumsy hair and a matted quill, and then he took their shovels and left them, with one shovel slung over each shoulder.

Freedom at last, for the remainder of the evening. Scorpius stifled a yawn. He was cute when he yawned, Albus thought, with his eyes all scrunched up. Scorpius shut his mouth and rubbed his eyes, and smiled sleepily at Albus. Albus wanted to pick him up and swing him around in a circle. He settled for closing the gap between them and sliding his hand into Scorpius' pocket, once he was sure they were alone. He didn't have to say a word. Scorpius slung his arm over Albus' shoulder and kissed him softly. Albus relaxed into it. Their noses bumped and Scorpius pulled back, laughing.

"I think we need more practise," Scorpius said.

"Somewhere the teachers won't find us," Albus agreed. Footsteps echoed on the flagstones. They jumped apart from each other. Albus wasn't ready yet to shout their relationship from the rooftops – the last thing they needed as their O. loomed was the scrutiny of the whole Weasley clan as they assessed whether or not Scorpius was boyfriend material.

A mousy-haired Ravenclaw passed them by without so much as a second look.

"Can we go to bed yet?" Scorpius asked, yawning again. "I'm exhausted."

"Yeah. Our work's done," Albus said. They made to leave the courtyard, shoulders brushing purposefully. Something cold and wet landed on Albus' shoulder. He stopped, just before they reached the safe shelter of the walkway, and looked up. Above them, dark grey clouds blotted out a miserable sunset. Another droplet hit Albus' face. But it wasn't a droplet at all; he brushed it off and found that it was a tiny snowflake.

"You're kidding."