Fic: 'Glitches and Snitches' AS/S PG13
Title: Glitches and Snitches
Author: softly_sweetly
Beta: alexis_sd
Characters/Pairing: Albus Severus/Scorpius, cameos from any and all
Length: ~1,600
Rating: PG13 for now
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this piece of fanfiction.
Warnings: A little swearing
Summary: Al has a glittering Quidditch career - and halfway decent grades, hopefully - heading his way. If only Scorpius would stop crossing his path...
Author Notes: Counts to prompt #99 Ruin from my 100quills Next Generation Table
Written for Week Three of the ass_carnival, using all the prompts.
One. Two.
Al was still playing on his mind, and it was starting to annoy Scorpius. His yearly excursion to France, where he could lounge by the pool and pretend he was from the land of high culture and not the land of war scars and aspersions cast because of his surname, had been marred by constant thoughts of Al. It was hard enough to hold on to the fading ghost of his breeding amongst the plebs and sycophants of Hogwarts, without having an infatuation with a Potter to compound his misery.
"Scorpius, darling, you haven't touched your lunch."
Picking up the baguette, Scorpius took a bite; it was easier than the fight that would ensue if he said he wasn't hungry.
"Much better. I saw the most darling little beret in town today; you must come out with me tomorrow, and we can see how it looks on you."
Scorpius couldn't think of anything that would be less fun, but it would make his mother happy, so he nodded softly. "That is something to look forward to. You haven't forgotten that I leave on Friday, have you?"
"Of course not, although I wish you didn't have to travel home alone."
"Mother, it's two Floo trips and a quick Apparition home, I'm sure I'll manage. Besides, I need the weekend to prepare for Monday."
"Of course, your new job. Did you send your results on to them?"
Scorpius couldn't help but smile at the look of pride on his mother's face. He'd been certain that he had messed up his Potions practical, but the string of six neat 'O's on his results paper had been a welcome assurance he hadn't. His grades were better than either of his parent's, something he had thought would annoy them, but had only made them happier. "I sent them on last week, and got the official confirmation of my employment this morning while you were out."
"You must be excited."
The excitement in his mother's voice was infectious, chasing away the ennui that had plagued Scorpius' holiday thus far. He had a job - a high paying job that he'd enjoy - waiting for him back home, and his parents were proud of him. His appetite suddenly returning in a rush, Scorpius smiled. "I can't wait."
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Swearing loudly, Al drew back his foot and aimed a swift kick at Betsy. Naturally, the little shit got out of the way in time, and his kicking thin air almost spun him over. Regaining his balance and swearing again, Al wished his hands weren't full so that he could hex the damn rat. His cousins had been given the poodle last Christmas and while it was sweetness and cute fluffiness to everyone else, it had taken an instant dislike to Al. The feeling was mutual. If it wasn't nipping his ankles it was winding around his legs and trying to trip him over.
"All this swearing, it can only be Albus."
"Hi, Auntie Fleur. Sorry about that."
"It is fine, Louis is out."
Al hung his head and looked appropriately sorry. His young cousin idolized him, and Al was not supposed to take any pride in having taught Louis every swear word he knew. Lifting his arms a little higher, Al gestured to his load. "I brought the text books that Dominique needs."
"Thank you, Al," Fleur took them off him effortlessly; Al suspected magic, and his suspicion was confirmed when they Vanished into thin air, presumably sent up to Dominique's room. "She will appreciate them, and no doubt find amusement in the notes you scrawl in the margins."
Al laughed; he'd already gone through and censored the worst of it. It wasn't as though his cousins were poor, because his Uncle Bill headed up the entire curse-breaking division of Gringotts, but as Al had no intention of using his NEWT textbooks ever again, it made sense to give them to his cousin and get maximum usage out of them.
Following his Aunt into the kitchen, Al grinned when she pressed a Galleon into his hand. He knew she did it to all of the kids in the family, a little something to make them feel special when they visited her. Even though he knew a lot of his other aunts... not disliked, but sometimes got exasperated with Aunt Fleur, Al had always got on well with her. She was fun, and had a naughty side. And she clearly loved his Uncle Bill.
"Are you excited about Monday?"
"God, yeah. I can't wait, seriously!"
She chuckled softly at his enthusiasm, and Al beamed. Everyone had been happy when the Bees accepted him, which made it all the sweeter. "Hey, I got the wedding invite this morning. It's mental, Teddy and Vix are going to be married soon!"
Fleur beamed, pulling what looked like a plate of chops out of the freezer. "They are so lucky. You only find the right one once..."
"That many times?" Al cut in cheekily, dodging the tea towel she flicked at him.
"Just the once, and to be so young and to have found each other already is magnifique. Perhaps we will be receiving invites from you, and a colleague on your team."
"Bah," Al jumped down off the counter and swaggered. "Playboy for life, me."
"There will be someone," Fleur chided softly, a knowing smile on her face. "Sometimes, when you think no one is watching, you daydream, and I see that perhaps there is someone already."
Blushing, Al shook his head. "No one. No one at all. Just an unhealthy amount of love for my broom."
"You daydream about Quidditch?"
"Yep."
"Quelle surprise. Will you stay for dinner?"
Al appreciated the topic change, and pretended to give the question some thought. "Are you making your famous mash?"
"For you, Albus, always."
"Then I'll hang around!"
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Al looked at himself in the mirror and shivered softly. The jet black uniform the Bees wore was edged in gold, and made him look like a professional Quidditch player. Shaking his head, Al laughed. He was a professional Quidditch player now. As of this morning, he played Quidditch for his living.
"Coming, Potter?"
Looking up, Al tried not to sway in awe. Mack McCann, the second-greatest living Keeper, was talking to him like a team mate.
"Yeah, course. And call me Al, please."
"Mack. You'll have to learn to get through Coach Reynolds' morning speech. I suggest counting to a million."
"He goes on that long?"
"Put it this way, I've reached five figures before now."
Laughing at the joke, hoping he sounded easily confident and not star struck, Al followed Mack out of the locker room and into the little conference room. Sitting down, he had to force himself not to peer around the room in awe. Fourteen people made up the Bees, and the team was one of the most changing in the league - every player good enough to be given first team privileges, so the players often switched about between matches.
"Right, kids, less talking." The order was unnecessary, as everyone had gone silent when Coach Malcolm Reynolds had walked into the conference room. He sat down in the leather chair at the head of the table and smiled broadly. "First things first. I'm damn comfortable with that cup in my office, so this season we're going to hang onto it, you hear me?"
A chorus of oooh-yeah! went around the table, and Al joined in with the last syllable, watching the way his teammates behaved and memorizing it. He wanted to fit in, wanted to prove himself to these men and women.
"Second, we have two new players joining us this season. Not transfers, but brand new green babies. I expect you all to show them the ropes, and get them up to standard. And leave them alive after the hazing."
A dark chuckle rippled around the table, and Al tried to look confident. He hadn't thought about hazing. And who was this second new person?
"First up on the roster is a fantastically talented young man, one of the most natural players I've ever seen. He plays all the positions well enough, but excels at Seeking and Chasing."
Al was curious; he didn't Seek. Well, he did, but he wouldn't say he excelled at it. Clearly he was better than he thought. Swelling with pride as Coach Reynolds smiled and stood up, Al prepared to be formally introduced to his team mates.
"In fact, he just walked in the door. Everyone, meet Scorpius Malfoy."
The round of applause successfully drowned out Al's squeak, and the snap of his neck as he whipped around in his chair. There was Scorpius, resplendent in his team robes.
"Thank you, it's an honour to play with you and for you." Sliding into the empty seat next to Al, Scorpius added in a low bite, "I saw you puffing up there. Some people never get beyond their stupid pride."
Before Al could respond - or even think of a response - Coach Reynolds had started speaking again. "And of course, Scorpius knows our second new recruit from their school days. Everyone, meet Albus Potter. He'll be playing Chaser, Keeper in a pinch, and I've yet to see him Seek or Beat."
"Al's a brilliant beater." Scorpius put a gentle stress on the final word, making the entire table erupt in laughter at Al.
The laughter stoked Al's rage, and he reverted into full-out bickering sibling mode. "Yeah, but I pale in comparison to your ball-handling skills."
The laughter renewed, directed at Scorpius this time, and Al allowed himself a tiny smirk. He was not going to let Scorpius ruin his dream chance. Crush or not, Al was in this for the Quidditch, and nothing would distract him from that.
Chapter Four
Author: softly_sweetly
Beta: alexis_sd
Characters/Pairing: Albus Severus/Scorpius, cameos from any and all
Length: ~1,600
Rating: PG13 for now
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this piece of fanfiction.
Warnings: A little swearing
Summary: Al has a glittering Quidditch career - and halfway decent grades, hopefully - heading his way. If only Scorpius would stop crossing his path...
Author Notes: Counts to prompt #99 Ruin from my 100quills Next Generation Table
Written for Week Three of the ass_carnival, using all the prompts.
One. Two.
Al was still playing on his mind, and it was starting to annoy Scorpius. His yearly excursion to France, where he could lounge by the pool and pretend he was from the land of high culture and not the land of war scars and aspersions cast because of his surname, had been marred by constant thoughts of Al. It was hard enough to hold on to the fading ghost of his breeding amongst the plebs and sycophants of Hogwarts, without having an infatuation with a Potter to compound his misery.
"Scorpius, darling, you haven't touched your lunch."
Picking up the baguette, Scorpius took a bite; it was easier than the fight that would ensue if he said he wasn't hungry.
"Much better. I saw the most darling little beret in town today; you must come out with me tomorrow, and we can see how it looks on you."
Scorpius couldn't think of anything that would be less fun, but it would make his mother happy, so he nodded softly. "That is something to look forward to. You haven't forgotten that I leave on Friday, have you?"
"Of course not, although I wish you didn't have to travel home alone."
"Mother, it's two Floo trips and a quick Apparition home, I'm sure I'll manage. Besides, I need the weekend to prepare for Monday."
"Of course, your new job. Did you send your results on to them?"
Scorpius couldn't help but smile at the look of pride on his mother's face. He'd been certain that he had messed up his Potions practical, but the string of six neat 'O's on his results paper had been a welcome assurance he hadn't. His grades were better than either of his parent's, something he had thought would annoy them, but had only made them happier. "I sent them on last week, and got the official confirmation of my employment this morning while you were out."
"You must be excited."
The excitement in his mother's voice was infectious, chasing away the ennui that had plagued Scorpius' holiday thus far. He had a job - a high paying job that he'd enjoy - waiting for him back home, and his parents were proud of him. His appetite suddenly returning in a rush, Scorpius smiled. "I can't wait."
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Swearing loudly, Al drew back his foot and aimed a swift kick at Betsy. Naturally, the little shit got out of the way in time, and his kicking thin air almost spun him over. Regaining his balance and swearing again, Al wished his hands weren't full so that he could hex the damn rat. His cousins had been given the poodle last Christmas and while it was sweetness and cute fluffiness to everyone else, it had taken an instant dislike to Al. The feeling was mutual. If it wasn't nipping his ankles it was winding around his legs and trying to trip him over.
"All this swearing, it can only be Albus."
"Hi, Auntie Fleur. Sorry about that."
"It is fine, Louis is out."
Al hung his head and looked appropriately sorry. His young cousin idolized him, and Al was not supposed to take any pride in having taught Louis every swear word he knew. Lifting his arms a little higher, Al gestured to his load. "I brought the text books that Dominique needs."
"Thank you, Al," Fleur took them off him effortlessly; Al suspected magic, and his suspicion was confirmed when they Vanished into thin air, presumably sent up to Dominique's room. "She will appreciate them, and no doubt find amusement in the notes you scrawl in the margins."
Al laughed; he'd already gone through and censored the worst of it. It wasn't as though his cousins were poor, because his Uncle Bill headed up the entire curse-breaking division of Gringotts, but as Al had no intention of using his NEWT textbooks ever again, it made sense to give them to his cousin and get maximum usage out of them.
Following his Aunt into the kitchen, Al grinned when she pressed a Galleon into his hand. He knew she did it to all of the kids in the family, a little something to make them feel special when they visited her. Even though he knew a lot of his other aunts... not disliked, but sometimes got exasperated with Aunt Fleur, Al had always got on well with her. She was fun, and had a naughty side. And she clearly loved his Uncle Bill.
"Are you excited about Monday?"
"God, yeah. I can't wait, seriously!"
She chuckled softly at his enthusiasm, and Al beamed. Everyone had been happy when the Bees accepted him, which made it all the sweeter. "Hey, I got the wedding invite this morning. It's mental, Teddy and Vix are going to be married soon!"
Fleur beamed, pulling what looked like a plate of chops out of the freezer. "They are so lucky. You only find the right one once..."
"That many times?" Al cut in cheekily, dodging the tea towel she flicked at him.
"Just the once, and to be so young and to have found each other already is magnifique. Perhaps we will be receiving invites from you, and a colleague on your team."
"Bah," Al jumped down off the counter and swaggered. "Playboy for life, me."
"There will be someone," Fleur chided softly, a knowing smile on her face. "Sometimes, when you think no one is watching, you daydream, and I see that perhaps there is someone already."
Blushing, Al shook his head. "No one. No one at all. Just an unhealthy amount of love for my broom."
"You daydream about Quidditch?"
"Yep."
"Quelle surprise. Will you stay for dinner?"
Al appreciated the topic change, and pretended to give the question some thought. "Are you making your famous mash?"
"For you, Albus, always."
"Then I'll hang around!"
~~~~~♥~~~~~
Al looked at himself in the mirror and shivered softly. The jet black uniform the Bees wore was edged in gold, and made him look like a professional Quidditch player. Shaking his head, Al laughed. He was a professional Quidditch player now. As of this morning, he played Quidditch for his living.
"Coming, Potter?"
Looking up, Al tried not to sway in awe. Mack McCann, the second-greatest living Keeper, was talking to him like a team mate.
"Yeah, course. And call me Al, please."
"Mack. You'll have to learn to get through Coach Reynolds' morning speech. I suggest counting to a million."
"He goes on that long?"
"Put it this way, I've reached five figures before now."
Laughing at the joke, hoping he sounded easily confident and not star struck, Al followed Mack out of the locker room and into the little conference room. Sitting down, he had to force himself not to peer around the room in awe. Fourteen people made up the Bees, and the team was one of the most changing in the league - every player good enough to be given first team privileges, so the players often switched about between matches.
"Right, kids, less talking." The order was unnecessary, as everyone had gone silent when Coach Malcolm Reynolds had walked into the conference room. He sat down in the leather chair at the head of the table and smiled broadly. "First things first. I'm damn comfortable with that cup in my office, so this season we're going to hang onto it, you hear me?"
A chorus of oooh-yeah! went around the table, and Al joined in with the last syllable, watching the way his teammates behaved and memorizing it. He wanted to fit in, wanted to prove himself to these men and women.
"Second, we have two new players joining us this season. Not transfers, but brand new green babies. I expect you all to show them the ropes, and get them up to standard. And leave them alive after the hazing."
A dark chuckle rippled around the table, and Al tried to look confident. He hadn't thought about hazing. And who was this second new person?
"First up on the roster is a fantastically talented young man, one of the most natural players I've ever seen. He plays all the positions well enough, but excels at Seeking and Chasing."
Al was curious; he didn't Seek. Well, he did, but he wouldn't say he excelled at it. Clearly he was better than he thought. Swelling with pride as Coach Reynolds smiled and stood up, Al prepared to be formally introduced to his team mates.
"In fact, he just walked in the door. Everyone, meet Scorpius Malfoy."
The round of applause successfully drowned out Al's squeak, and the snap of his neck as he whipped around in his chair. There was Scorpius, resplendent in his team robes.
"Thank you, it's an honour to play with you and for you." Sliding into the empty seat next to Al, Scorpius added in a low bite, "I saw you puffing up there. Some people never get beyond their stupid pride."
Before Al could respond - or even think of a response - Coach Reynolds had started speaking again. "And of course, Scorpius knows our second new recruit from their school days. Everyone, meet Albus Potter. He'll be playing Chaser, Keeper in a pinch, and I've yet to see him Seek or Beat."
"Al's a brilliant beater." Scorpius put a gentle stress on the final word, making the entire table erupt in laughter at Al.
The laughter stoked Al's rage, and he reverted into full-out bickering sibling mode. "Yeah, but I pale in comparison to your ball-handling skills."
The laughter renewed, directed at Scorpius this time, and Al allowed himself a tiny smirk. He was not going to let Scorpius ruin his dream chance. Crush or not, Al was in this for the Quidditch, and nothing would distract him from that.
Chapter Four