a/n: Am alive. Am continuing story. Slash. Yay.
x.x.x
Some Sort of Mix Up
x.x.x
Deux
x.x.x
"Albus Potter!" his cousin exclaimed. "I hope you're not thinking—"
"Shh!" he interjected, motioning toward the librarian's desk. "But you do remember the book they used, don't you? In Uncle Ron's story?"
Rose frowned. "My father is a terrible influence on you. And it was called Moste Potente Potions."
"Do you think—" Al's eyes widened hopefully. "You think maybe—you might—might want to help us? Brew the potion?"
"Al!" Rose looked scandalized. "That must be against a hundred school rules. At least. I've already helped more than I should have just by telling you—"
"But won't it be great when we can be in Gryffindor together?" he asked, and her expression softened a bit. Encouraged, he continued, "Plus, you're so smart, Rose. I mean, I know I don't know anything about Potions. Scorpius Malfoy—well, I'll just have to hope for the best, won't I? Of course, if there was anyone that could help us brew it right so it wouldn't wind up deadly or—"
"Okay," Rose cut in. "Fine. You win. But only because I hadn't considered the possibility that in spite of my warnings you will stubbornly attempt to brew it anyway, proceed to botch it up, drink it and kill yourself. I can at least—supervise, or something. Someone has to make sure you don't ingest anything lethal."
Albus grinned. "You're the best, Rosie."
x.x.x
"Scorpius Malfoy!" his friend exclaimed. "You can't really be willing to sacrifice your good looks just for the sake of switching Houses?"
Scorpius snorted lightly. "But won't it be great when we can be in Slytherin together? I mean—if you don't mind being seen with a bespectacled Potter, of course."
Claire frowned pensively. "So this potion—you'll look exactly like him?"
He nodded.
"Glasses and all?"
He nodded.
The frown remained, but she finally shrugged. "I suppose there are worse people to be seen with."
"So you're in?" Scorpius said.
"I'm in," Claire replied with a smirk.
"And you'll help us brew it?"
The black-haired girl nodded her consent.
Scorpius grinned. "You're the best, Claire."
x.x.x
"So," the blond said, dragging Albus into a rather familiar empty hallway, "you say the book's in the Restricted Section?"
Albus nodded, and the other boy frowned. "Perhaps Longbottom could give you a pass?" Scorpius asked hopefully. "He seems rather friendly with you Potter bunch."
"Not that friendly," Al murmured. "I think we can pull it off, though," he said seriously. "My brother has—well—" Albus stopped, considering the prudence of telling Scorpius Malfoy about his brother's invisibility cloak. "Well—he can help me get the book. He might give me a rough time about it, but he'll give in eventually. Always does."
"You're not going to tell your brother about this?" Scorpius asked, eyes widening in something akin to fear.
"No, no," he said. "Of course not. I'm not completely off my rocker. I won't have to tell him anything about—the plan—to get into the Restricted Section. Just have to get James to lend me something, and then I can sneak in—no problem."
Scorpius quirked a brow but otherwise seemed to accept the explanation. "And Rose is helping? She's your cousin, isn't she?"
Albus nodded. "Yeah. I mean—to both. What about Claire?" he asked.
"She's in."
x.x.x
"Good evening, Albus," Claire Zabini greeted him, somber faced, as he took a seat next to her at dinner.
Al stifled a grin. "Good evening, Clairebus," he deadpanned.
The girl's visage remained blank, but Albus could detect the amused glint in her eye.
So. Slytherins weren't completely without humor, after all.
Al stifled a grin.
x.x.x
Before she eventually left the table with some girl friends, Claire whispered, "Bye, Al." And then she cracked an only slightly forced-looking smile.
"See you, Claire."
x.x.x
"You know, you might be able to talk Al out of this. If you decided to change your mind. "
Scorpius looked up from his Charms essay to see Rose Weasley, who had somehow managed to track him down even as he sat inconspicuously in a secluded corner of the appallingly decorated Gryffindor common room.
"Why would I want to talk him out of it?" Scorpius asked. "Or change my mind?"
"Because it's a stupid and dangerous idea, that's why," she said with a little huff. She took a seat next to him on the couch that was all too squashy and red for his liking.
"Well," he said, "I'm not changing my mind. I belong in Slytherin with Claire and he belongs in here with—well—you."
The ginger-headed girl rolled her eyes. "I won't take that as an insult," she offered generously. Peering at the books and parchment scattered about the floor near his feet, her face brightened. "Is that your Charms essay?" she asked eagerly. "On the properties and correct execution of Wingardium leviosa?"
He nodded, somewhat taken by surprise. "Err—yeah," he said. "I've got ten and a half inches so far, mostly on the wand techniques and—you know—effects of the spell."
"Do you need some help with that last little bit?" Rose asked. She then forged ahead without waiting for an answer. "Have you tried detailing the proper pronunciation? Because I got three whole inches just from that."
So. Gryffindors weren't completely without brains, after all.
He grinned. "Actually—that would be good. I only mentioned pronunciation in passing, and I was dead out of ideas for that last inch and a half."
She smiled and babbled on—something about stressing the 'o' in lev-i-o-sa—and he dutifully paraphrased her explanations until he had completed the twelve-inch essay.
"Thanks."
She nodded and opened her mouth, but he cut her off with, "And I'm still not changing my mind about the plan."
Rose shook her head admonishingly, murmuring something about "never letting Dad tell Al about another idiotic, dangerous stunt like that again" as she stood up from the couch and walked away.
x.x.x
Scorpius packed up his books, prickling at Rose's assumption that Albus had gotten the plan from her father. The idea had been his, after all. He'd read about Polyjuice Potion in his father's library one dreadfully boring afternoon.
But apparently even another Gryffindor wouldn't give a Gryffindor credit for such a brilliantly devised and masterfully cunning plan.
Well, that's what Scorpius figured, anyway.
x.x.x
In Potions the next day, Rose Weasley took the seat next to him.
Scorpius smiled and didn't even edge his seat in the opposite direction.
She smiled back. And didn't even edge her seat in the opposite direction, either.
Maybe this Gryffindor thing didn't completely suck.
x.x.x
"Hey—Potter?" called Vince Goyle's eleven-year-old yet somehow still gruff and intimidating voice.
Al turned and came face-to-face with the gruff and intimidating owner of the gruff and intimidating voice.
He considered dropping to the floor and assuming fetal position. Or just crying.
"Potter."
Al's eyes darted around the common room. A gaggle of third-or-so-year girls sat clustered in a far corner and a pack of old-enough-to-be-terrifying boys lounged in front of the fire. And, of course, a handful of students was scattered about the room, each one doing homework alone.
Witnesses. A dozen, at the very least.
Al sighed in relief, deciding he was safe. For now. "Yes?" he said, thrilled to note that his voice didn't even crack.
Goyle frowned, tugging on his sleeves with his beefy hands. "I—umm—got a letter," he said. "From my dad."
Oh—shit.
Al's dad had lied again and he'd gone and sent Vince Goyle's father to Azkaban and now it didn't matter how many witnesses were in the room, Albus would have to face the impulsive and uncontrollable wrath of this hulking boy in front of him.
"A letter?" Al asked, hoping to buy himself an extra thirty seconds of life.
Goyle nodded, eyes trained on the ground. "He said—umm—that I couldn't give you no trouble or nothing. 'Cause your dad—ah—saved his life. Or something like that. During the war. So. And—umm—Claire doesn't hate you anymore, so I figure Scorpius must not hate you. So I figure it's okay if—y'know—I don't hate you, neither."
Shocked and relieved, Albus blinked a few times to make sure his eyeballs wouldn't pop out of his head. He then quickly pulled his features into a bland expression of not-quite-boredom. Al couldn't afford lose this sudden and fortuitous upper hand.
"Well," he said in a tone of polite disinterest, "that's good to hear. Maybe I'll even go as far as to say I don't hate you either, yeah?"
Vince Goyle nodded subserviently and trotted off.
Al smiled to himself. Maybe this Slytherin thing didn't completely suck.
x.x.x
"Hey, Malfoy!" James Potter summoned from across the cozy Gryffindor common room. "Malfoy!"
Scorpius felt his stomach sink as he sauntered over to the older boy. "Yeah?" he said casually, praying that the terror wasn't audible in his voice.
"You and Rosie are friends now, huh?"
He nodded. "Yes, I—I suppose so."
James curled his bottom lip thoughtfully. "She's pretty much a sister to me," he said. "Only less annoying 'cause I don't have to live with her."
Scorpius wasn't quite sure where this was going, but said nothing
"So," he continued, "since Rose is so important to me, and she seems to value your friendship for reasons unknown, I thought we should—umm—start fresh. You know. And I won't say bad stuff about your family anymore."
Scorpius blinked and nodded.
"But don't expect us to be mates or anything," James warned sharply. "You're still an ickle firstie. And," he continued in a threatening tone, "if you try anything funny with my little cousin, I'll be out for your pure, Malfoy blood."
"Brilliant," Scorpius said with a tight grin. He then darted away while he still had the chance to escape the sinister presence of James Potter with his dignity intact.
x.x.x
"Please, James?" Al begged. "I'll bring it right back and I won't rip it or anything. I'll be extra careful."
James snorted. "Why should I trust you, huh, Slytherin?"
Well. James wanted to play dirty, did he?
"Maybe you shouldn't," Al said coolly. "But if you don't let me borrow the Invisibility Cloak, I'll write Mum that you brought it to school with you. And then you'll be in for a Howler, for sure—if you're lucky."
James grimaced. "Should've been an only child," he muttered.
"So you'll lend it to me?" Al said with a grin.
"Yeah, you prat. I'll lend it to you. But you'd better be bloody careful with it."
x.x.x
"So," he said as Albus Potter took a seat next to him at the library table, "did you get—whatever it is you needed?"
The black-haired boy grinned eagerly. "Just for tonight," he said. "So—I'll nick the book from the Restricted Section tonight, and then tomorrow we can look over the instructions and worry about gathering ingredients and all of that."
Scorpius nodded. "Perfect."
Albus stood up, but Scorpius called after him—"Hold on!"—wanting to engage the other boy for a while longer, though he couldn't think of a single logical reason why.
"Yeah?" the Potter said.
"Er—have you talked to Claire?" he asked. "I mean—are the two of you getting on all right?"
Albus resumed his seat. "Yeah, actually." He momentarily flashed his teeth. "She's not bad at all. I just had to sort of—learn to speak her language, you know?"
Scorpius nodded. He knew.
"Well—and so what about Rose? And you, I mean."
He brushed a strand of blond fringe out of his eyes. "Pretty much exactly what you just said. Of course, Rose's language is a little easier to decipher—academics."
The green-eyed boy laughed. "Yeah," he said, standing up again. "Well, it'll be good to have them helping us with the plan, anyway. And then we can—you know—go back to normal. You in Slytherin and me—well. Like it should be, yeah?"
"Like it should be," Scorpius repeated, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat as Al walked off.
x.x.x
When Albus closed his eyes that night, clutching James' cloak and cradling an ancient tome, he saw Scorpius Malfoy, sitting at a library table and brushing a strand of blond fringe out of his eyes.
He blinked.
Darkness.
Vince Goyle snored.
x.x.x
a/n: Review or face the impulsive and uncontrollable wrath of Vince Goyle.ince Goyle.