"Time's up!"
A chorus of groans. The clatter of pencils dropped in defeat ─ like an entire percussion section giving up all sense of musicality.
Scorpius stretched his arms behind his back, feeling his muscles tug against their will, grumbling in protest. His wrist had to be being gnawed off, it ached so much.
He tuned out Professor Sprout, flicking his eyes to the right, where another boy sat. Scorpius raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"Well?"
"Eh," answered Albus. "Couldn't get the second one." He glanced towards the teacher, his brows knit. "In my defense, we never learned how to feed cabbages to mandrakes."
"You left it blank?" laughed the Slytherin, trying to cover his mouth so no revealing sound would emerge. "Albus Potter? I don't believe it." He faked being astonished.
"I was going to go back to it!"
"Nice," said Scorpius sarcastically.
Albus muttered something that sounded a lot like 'know-it-all.'
"Hey," Scorpius teased. "I bet you'll get the award for most-deserved 'T' on the exam!"
Professor Sprout banged her podium with her knuckles.
"Finished, Misters Potter and Malfoy?" She raised her scraggly, greying eyebrows.
Albus and Scorpius pretended not to know each other ─ nor what she was talking about. They waited an appropriate thirty seconds before whispering to each other again.
"See you later?"
"Course."
They bowed their head in sync and admired their erasers. No one could know.
When the class was officially over, and students were filing out of the hall, Professor Sprout shook her head fondly and said to herself, "Those two... just like their fathers. But they're never going to be able to make it last. They're far too obvious about it."
Written for:
Ship 'Til You Drop Bi-Weekly Competition, Pairing: Albus/Scorpius
Amateur Divination Game Challenge, Q: When I say Taylor Swift, what song comes to mind? A: "Blank Space"
Let's Dig Holes Competition, Prompt: accolade ─ an award or an expression of praise (word)