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acciobutterbeerandbooks · 5 years

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here’s a snippet from one of my wips (au)...

Albus tossed his tie to the ground and shook off his jacket before quickly unbuttoning his shirt. He kicked off his shoes and then glanced back over at Scorpius who hadn’t moved. The two held eye contact as Albus pulled down his dress slacks and then tossed off his button up.

“Come on,” he repeated, stepping onto the actual edge of the pool in only his navy briefs. “I’m not swimming alone,” he declared, then jumped into the warm water with a playful shout.

Scorpius let out an exasperated sigh and then quickly began taking off his dress clothes too. He soon followed Albus, jumping into the water after him.

He emerged to the surface spluttering out water and laughing, to find Albus laughing too, treading the deep water.

“See? It’s not so bad,” Albus smiled. “I think it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Go for it.”

The two treaded the water, their legs and arms frequently bumping into the other person, but neither of them minding.

“Do you play any instruments?” Albus asked.

“No,” Scorpius shook his head, his wet hair shaking droplets around him, “I’m not very musically inclined.”

“Me neither, but I can play piano and a bit of guitar,” Albus responded.

Scorpius giggled softly, “Did you just ask me that question you could brag about your talents?”

A playful smirk spread across the Albus’ face, “Maybe, yeah.”

Scorpius laughed, the sound echoed throughout the pool and he sent a splash in Albus’ direction.

Albus shouted in protest and turned away, swimming towards the ledge that overlooked the city. Scorpius quickly followed.

They both rested their arms up on the edge as they gazed out the thick glass window.

“It’s very pretty from up here,” Scorpius spoke softly.

“For how grimy it is down there, you can’t help but forget about it as you look at this,” Albus added. He then turned to look at Scorpius, admiring his pale skin and how the golden lights of the city reflected onto him and made his soft brown eyes sparkle. He was very pretty, Albus couldn’t deny that. His stomach was taken over with butterflies as his eyes moved down to his bare chest and strong shoulders. He wasn’t ripped by any means, but he was fit and definitely in shape and Albus wanted to be able to reach out and touch his soft skin. Oh God, he was so gay...

Scorpius felt the other boy’s eyes on him and turned his head, gazing at him.

“What are you looking at?” Albus asked quietly.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Scorpius’ lips twitched up into a small smile.

Albus felt his stomach tightening in excitement as he realized how close their proximity was. He glanced down at Scorpius’ soft pink lips, then quickly back up to his eyes and noticed that he had done the same thing.

He felt his heart rate pick up and Scorpius leaned in, and felt his own eyes flutter shut, leaning in to meet him halfway. Time slowed down as he felt Scorpius’ breath on his lips, then just as he was about to kiss him, a loud clanking sound startled them apart.

“HEY!” A strong voice echoed through the pool, “YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BE IN HERE! THE POOL’S CLOSED!”

“Shit,” Albus coughed. The two boys frantically swam back to the side of the pool where their clothes were.

“I’m so sorry, sir!” Albus spoke frantically as he tried to pull his slacks up over his wet legs. “We weren’t aware that it was closed!” he rambled, lying easily as he grabbed his button up shirt.

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acciobutterbeerandbooks · 5 years

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Albus Potter and the Denial of Blatant Homosexuality

The air is warm. There is a soft breeze coming from the rolling grey ocean, and every few moments Albus can feel the cool ocean water touch his toes. There’s a lightness that he has never felt before. He opens his eyes and he looks up to a cloudy sky. Then he looks to his other side and he sees Scorpius. They’re both wearing black muggle swimsuits, Scorpius is looking down at him, a soft smile toying with his lips. His eyes are slightly wrinkled, he has beautiful eyes. They’re the same colour as the sky and ocean, but not combined. They’re not mixed like in a painting, they are an orchestra. An orchestra of colour. Albus wishes he had eyes like that. If Albus had even a little bit of Scorpius’s beauty then he’d probably get more girls then his brother James, and that’s saying something. “Albus,” Scorpius said. He sounded a million miles away. When he said it again it was louder, “Albus.” Then the sand turned cotton-like, and the sky turned black.

“Albus! Albus!”

“MmmmMM”

“Albus wake up now!”

Albus felt his pillow being tugged out from under his head and thrown onto his face. “Albus, it’s noon. And you’re still not up! How have you slept for so long?” Albus recognized the genuinely bewildered voice belonging to his mother, as well some puttering noises around his room. He sat up, lifting the pillow off his head and with great effort opened his eyes. His mother was in his dresser, her hands madly ruffling the shirts he had neatly folded the evening prior.

“Why are all your clothes black?”

“My clothes aren’t all black!” said Albus, outraged at the suggestion.

“Well, I suppose they’re not all black… a few of them are dark grey” Ginny sarcastically smiled then threw a pair of black jeans and looked at him curiously, her light brown eyes searching him.

“You’ve forgotten haven’t you.”

“What is it I’m supposed to have forgotten, my alarm?”

“The family get-together we’re having here this evening. Before all of you go off to Hogwarts again.”

Then she took out a light grey T-shirt before putting it back, muttering to herself

“I thought we weren’t doing that this year? You know-with Gran’s hip?”

It had become a Weasley clan tradition since the very first Weasley grandchild went off to Hogwarts (Teddy) that on the night before the night before the night before the 1st of September, every single Weasley or family friend all gathered at The Burrow to have a rather large potluck. Originally Gran cooked but as the family got bigger and bigger it just became quite impossible. The grandchildren, or the “Next-Gen” as the papers so kindly referred to them all, pretended to find the gathering bothersome, however, all secretly rather enjoyed one of the few moments of the year where the entire family was in the same place. However after a nasty fall down a flight of one of the burrows many stairs, Gran the hostess injured her hip. After the initial shock and worry on her well being, everyone was quite disappointed that the Hogwarts-send off potluck would have to be cancelled.

“Just because we can’t have it at The Burrow doesn’t mean we can’t have it here.”

Ginny put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows, daring her son to make an annoyed remark. Albus had never liked big family gatherings and he wasn’t afraid to make his opinion known. Rolling his eyes and sinking back into his charcoal bed sheets he said,

“Great, just great, a bunch of wizards with next to no respect for secrecy laws in a muggle residential neighbourhood, this isn’t Ottery St Catchpole, they can’t have a god awful quidditch game in the yard.”

“Give your family some credit Al,” exasperated GInny, “it’s not like they’re going to go ‘round casting spells in plain view of the street.”

Finally settling on a black button-up shirt she tossed it into the middle of Albus’s chest, who made no attempt to catch it.

“It’s Albus-and maybe not, but if Grandad starts loudly talking about how clever muggles are to create cars instead of just flying they’re going to be suspicious. They already think we’re some weird type of Amish.”

“What do you know about what the muggles think of us, what do you care?” she chuckled, Albus gave a grave sigh.

“Doesn’t matter. Just go and let me get changed.”

“If you’re not down in 10 to do some tasks, I’ll be back up, and if I find you asleep I’ll be a lot less nice waking you up again” Albus stood from the bed and began to usher her towards the door. “Yes, Yes, Yes, love you too” he shut it, leaning his head against the wood he breathed a sigh of relief.

He inspected his drawers. He threw his head back and scrunched his nose. His mother had ruined all of his foldings, and with Hogwarts coming so soon there wasn’t much point in refolding it all over again. Dressing with the clothes his mother had picked out for him he looked at his reflection in the mirror nailed to his wall,

“Passable enough,”

he said aloud to no one. Although he hated to admit it, his mother was right, he was wearing all black to his socks to his chipping black nail varnish. His room had a lot of black too, black bedding, black furniture, black curtains, he wanted a black rug and navy blue walls but his mother had refused. It was their first and only real shouting match, she won obviously, with his grey walls and rug. He took a deep breath. “Well let’s get this over with,” and walked down the dark oak staircase into the Potter living room.

The Potter living room, though a few exceptions, was exemplarily ordinary. The walls were a warm grey aptly named “Warm Cup of”, except for the fireplace, where many family photos showing the Potters big, albeit, mostly smiling family. Blankets and decorative pillows had been thrown on the mismatched furniture to give the room a very lived-in feeling. The kitchen, which could be seen from the living room, had new stainless steel appliances and a rather decorative collection of cleverly labeled mugs hung above the sink. Yes, the Potter house all seemed quite normal. As long as you didn’t read those cups that is. Because if you read those cup you would see “Happy New Year” or “I Hate Monday’s” however you would also see cups proudly labeled “World’s Best Auror,” “Holly Head Harpies” or Ginny, Harry, James and Lily’s favourite, and Albus’s least favourite “Gryffindor Pride.”

When Albus came downstairs he was greeted with a smirk from his little sister Lily, She was sprawled over the sofa wearing a daffodil yellow dress that Albus thought must be vintage, and her fiery red hair was curled for the party. She was reading a Witch Weekly with a very handsome olive-skinned boy on the cover.

“Did you get all your beauty sleep?” Albus turned to see James leaning on the staircase. Wearing a light blue button-up his hazel eyes mischievous as always. “After all, it must take so much energy to mope around in the dark plotting.” Albus, already regretting coming downstairs gave a hefty eye roll and a retort that began and ended with his middle finger.

“Albus, can you not?” Lily sighed, threw her magazine to her side and sat up on the couch. “Just because you dress like a grandmother doesn’t mean you have to act like one.” Albus mocked before walking over to the chair nearest the fireplace, tossed the decorative pillow in her face and slumping down. James stopped leaning on the staircase, his brows knitted and his mouth formed a tight line.

“James you look like someone just insulted your girlfriend.”

“You can’t show up 12:40 and act like a cunt, me and Lily have been cleaning all morning.” James sounded exasperated. Which made sense considering he had been saying a version of this to Albus all summer.

“Lily and I, also it’s 12:46” Albus softly condescended.

“James is right Al, you’re acting like an arse.”

“No, James said I’m acting like a cunt, pick and choose.” Albus closed his eyes and rested on the chair.

“I say your acting like both.”

“Well, you have about 2.5 more days that you have to spend with me, after that I doubt we’ll talk much.”

James and Lily both went dead silent and looked down. Albus had spoken an uncomfortable, slightly hurtful truth. Neither of them really saw their brother at all during the school term, and with it being James’s last year at Hogwarts they had both came to the unspoken conclusion that they wouldn’t write to one another when Albus went to his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. To be fair to both of them, Lily had tried to spend time with her brother in her first year, and James would talk to Albus if he went and talked to him first. But Albus made no effort, and usually tried to give his family as much of a wide berth as possible. His change in behavior from shy but kind child, to irritable loner, and in the words of James, Rose, Hugo, Freddie, Roxanne, Victoire, Dominique, Louis and Uncle Geroge “Such a Buzzkill,” had been chalked up to him being the only one sorted into Slytherin, a house infamous for dark magic and bigotry.

Albus knew his family’s position on his house. After he was sorted there was a lot of “it doesn’t matter if you’re a Slytherin, we’ll still love you,” or “it doesn’t matter if you’re a Slytherin, it was bound to happen to somebody,” Albus felt a lot of despite-ness. “We’ll still be here for you in spite of being a Slytherin,” and although his family never talked of there feeling towards Slytherin in front of him, he had it under good authority that his sorting didn’t dissuade his family’s opinions, but rather confirmed them. Again to be fair to his family Albus hadn’t exactly achieved excellence in Slytherin like the others had achieved in their respective houses. The first few years of Albus’s schooling he really struggled, only with the help of Scorpius Malfoy his best friend he didn’t fail. Eventually, in fourth year he finally started to become acceptably mediocre, which would have been fine, if he wasn’t in a family that thrived on their excellence.

The awkward silence was finally interrupted with Ginny’s ascent from the basement carrying a basket of laundry. She placed it in front of her daughter on the coffee table.

“ Your father will be home in a moment, Lily darling can you fold these clothes? And boys, can you set the tables outside?” “Sure Mum,” they all chorused, getting up and going about their tasks thankful for a distraction.

Neither Ginny nor Harry were particularly avid gardeners, so although the backyard was very big, there were no flowers or greenery other than grass, fencing and in front of that, a massive hedge that seemed two meters too tall. In the middle of the yard, there was a long wooden table with stacked chairs to either side and a folded printed table cloth on top. Albus and James looked at each other.

“You take the left, I’ll take the right.”

Albus nodded in agreement and began to unstack the chairs. James kept nervously glancing towards Albus, he legitimately had no idea why. He looked like he wanted to say something, Albus wondered what it was. When the final chairs were stacked James motioned to Albus.

“Help me spread out the table cloth yeah?” Albus handed him one side of the table cloth. James looked at his painted nails and smirked,

“Where do you buy your nail varnish anyway? You can’t be raiding Lil’s or Mum’s closets, what are you getting it from, your boyfriend’s house?” James loosely laughed and gave his signature easy-going smile.

“Same place you buy your hair potion, what do you use again? Coconut Explosion? Or is it Intelligence Cleanse?” Albus snapped, throwing the table cloth up in the air and then setting it down for emphasis.

“Are you physically unable to take a damn joke?” James questioned angrily, smoothing out the cloth.

“I am. You’re just not funny.”

James glared at him. But Albus glared back. And if James had a signature smile then Albus had a signature glare. Cold and unmoving it would fill you with a sense of dread, not enough to make you cry, but enough to make tears spring at the corner of your eyes. It was impossible to win a glowering fight with Albus, although many have tried. But James was saved by noise coming from the house.

“Dad’s home.” they both said, only with very different tones.

When they walked back into the house their father Harry Potter was still wearing his work clothes, a light grey jacket-robe black pressed pants and matching tie. Sitting on a stool on the granite kitchen table eating grapes.

“Where’s Mum?” Albus said coldly.

“She’s in the shower getting ready. James go upstairs and clean your room it’s a state”

“Oh, so you’re not going to tell Albus to clean up his room?”

“Albus’s room is clean, now go.” And with one final glare at Albus James went upstairs.

“Sit, please” Harry warmly said to Albus as he gestured to the chair. Albus sat and popped a grape in his mouth.

“These are good.”

“They are, your aunt Audrey picked them from her greenhouse a few weeks ago, are you excited to see her at the party?”

Albus could have laughed out loud. His father had no subtlety, he was bad, but his father was infinitely worse.

“What? The send-off party before we’re all condemned to hell? Albus snarled sarcastically, taking another grape.

“Albus you’re not being very fair.”

Harry took a deep breath and put his hands on the table, trying to keep his temper.

Albus half-jokingly replied, “I suppose I’m not, they train us.”

Harry began to lose his temper. “Albus, I will never understand why you hate Hogwarts so much.”

“Well, I’m so sorry I’m not this perfect popular person like everyone else.” Albus rolled his eyes. His father was really easy to anger. He wondered how everyone was still obsessed over him when he lost his temper so easily.

“Albus, I know you hate it when I say this, but if you just made better friends than you would really like Hogwarts!”

Albus saw red at this, and a mantra of HOW DARE HE GO THERE repeated in his head. Standing up and beginning to raise his voice he began to seethe.

“Oh, how would you know anything about my friends if you refuse to even meet them, James’s gang hex random people all the time, half of Lily’s friends have eating disorders. But no, Scorpius is the evil bad influence!”

Harry began to stand up and shout. Both of them knew that this argument would go nowhere, they had it too many times not to, but it didn’t do anything to stop them nonetheless.

“Because James and Lily’s friends don’t influence them, ever since meeting Scorpius on day one you have been unpleasant, surly and hide up in your room all day!”

“Have you considered that your precious Hogwarts is the cause of all of my ‘unpleasantness’!” Albus mocked, a mighty scowl formed on his face.

“No! I know the Malfoys! I was there for their hearings! Just because they aren’t in Azkaban doesn’t mean what they did was right! Do you know what they think of your aunt! Do you know what they think of your mother’s family! Your family! The only reason why you don’t is that I haven’t let you be exposed to it!”

“You realize what you just said there, right! The only reason why you hate them is that you aren’t man enough to admit that The War was a long time ago, and that people change, and that Draco Malfoy is a good enough person not to fill Scorpius up with all that shite!”

“Don’t you Dare lecture me about being a man you are a sixteen-year-old boy wearing nail varnish!” Harry’s eyes softened as Albus’s livid eyes widened with anger.

“OH, NO THE HORROR! HARRY POTTER’S SON IS SEEN WITH NAIL VARNISH! WHAT A HORRIBLE JOB HE’S DOING! FUCK YOU!” Albus screamed, pointedly giving his father the finger.

“Al!-” But Albus had already run upstairs. A glance into James’s room he could see James standing frozen. A pair of boxers in one hand a book in the other. “What are you looking at!” Albus snapped. “Nothing,” James said hurriedly before shutting the door. Albus, still fuming, stormed into his room and slammed the door shut. He was furious. He needed to cool down. He walked toward his black bed and flopped down with a mighty thunk. He stuffed his face into his pillow, so hard he was almost suffocating, and he screamed. He screamed through all of his family’s opinion of his house, he screamed through his father’s refusal to see his side in things, he screamed that he wasn’t anything like his brother and all the things that meant. He screamed.

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