The Winter Holidays

12 Grimmauld Place

Albus and Scorpius fell in to a comfortable silence after both boys accepted the fact that they were pretty.

Scorpius didn't realize how much he enjoyed being called pretty until then. He used to play dress up with his mother's clothes when he was little, and in a skirt and his mother's (clompy on his tiny four year old feet) high heels, he had been called pretty.

"Wow Scorpie, what a pretty boy!" Astoria had exclaimed.

Scorpius was drawn out of his memory and into the present when Albus started fingering through his hair. Scorpius loved when Albus did this. Sometimes he would leave little braids in his mane of white blonde hair, something Scorpius always wanted to ask how to do, but he knew that would be strange.

In an odd way, braiding hair had always played a huge role in Scorpius's life.

When his mother was sick, his father would braid her hair as an excuse to be with her. It also appeared to be an easy way to be close to her while crying, not letting her know.

Or the first year that Scorpius had stayed at the Potters for the holidays; on Christmas Eve, when Lily woke up Albus with tears trailing down her cheeks from a bad dream. She had been polite, trying not to wake Scorpius, who was sleeping next to Albus, but she didn't know that he was already awake and listening intently.

"Albie, please? I know you're a teenager now, and I haven't asked in forever, but just for tonight?"

Scorpius knew that even though James was openly a sucker for Lily, Albus was too. Every single Potter had a special soft spot reserved for the little redhead. He knew Albus wouldn't refuse whatever Lily was asking.

"You know I can't say no Lils."

Albus rolled out of bed groggily, pulling the covers up around Scorpius to ensure that he stayed warm.

They made there way downstairs from the room where Albus lived. It was quite dark and many Death Eater marks were permanently bound to the wall, but Albus had covered each and every one with a picture of his friends, Slytherin paraphernalia, or assorted painting that Rose or Lily had given him over the years (one group clearly more intricate than the other's, but it was obvious that both were equally treasured). He even had a picture drawn by Hugo from many years ago. It was awful, obviously a quick scratch, but Albus cherished it nevertheless.

The door closed quietly, aside from the small tinkling noise from a small plaque on the outside of the door that read 'Regulus Arcturus Black.'

Scorpius waited five or so minutes to make sure that Albus and Lily were long gone. He couldn't help but chase after them, now sure that they would never know he was awake.

He crept down the stairs strategically, remembering which ones creaked when you hit certain parts of them.

When he reached the living room, he saw Albus in the t-shirt and sweatpants he had been wearing earlier. Lily was in scarlet and gold pajama pants, and half of her waist length red hair fell softly over her Weasley sweater from the past Christmas. The sleeves had begun to ride up past her wrists.

The other half of Lily's hair, however, was braided at the top, and towards the middle, Albus's hands worked, continuing the seemingly complicated braid.

"You dutch braided it right? Under instead of over?"

"Lily, I know how you wear your hair. You've worn dutch braids since I learned how to do them and taught you. I don't even know if I can remember how to french braid at this point."

Lily giggled in response and Scorpius watched Albus grin.

He suddenly had a surge of affection for the emerald eyed boy, and after that, a wave of jealousy hitting shortly after.

You're mother already had enough trouble having you, Scorp. Another sibling isn't really in the stars for us, Scorpius painfully remembered the response he got when asking his father for a little sister on his seventh birthday. He loved dressing up, but as he got bigger, none of his mom's clothes fit him right. He wanted somebody to dress up, somebody he could teach to twirl just like he did.

-

"Scorp. Scorpius, please don't flick me, we're here," Albus muttered in response to Scorpius waving his hand in a flick-ready position all too close to his nose.

Scorpius had fallen asleep, as he always did.

He didn't even have time to reminisce before the bricks in between 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place started to shake.

Blind to the Muggle eye, a new house appeared between the previous two, home to one of the most famous wizarding families alive today.

Thanks to a single flick of Harry's wand, all of the students' trunks were upstairs in their respective rooms. Scorpius ran his fingers through his hair and felt Albus shift his legs uncomfortably beneath him, but thought nothing of it.

Both boys followed a still babbling Lily and the ever distracted James into the Potters' home.

Inside, there was still a hint of gloom from Albus's great uncle Sirius's time spent living here with his snotty pure blood family. A majority of the gloom was lost since the Potters chose 12 Grimmauld Place as their home.

Unintentionally, Harry and Ginny had covered the house in warmer tones, more specifically, scarlet and gold. There was always a fire blazing from underneath the mantle, which was now lined with stockings for the infamous holiday.

Scorpius looked a little closer and noticed a new, more unusual stocking.

Beside the somewhat worn stockings of the Potter family, right next to Albus's red candy cane patterned stocking, was a new stocking.

This one was green and white with a similar pattern to Albus's, except this stocking read Scorpius in a pretty twirly font.

Scorpius wiped a tear from his cheek that he hadn't even realized had fallen when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I spent the past month on it for you Scorpius," whispered a gentle voice near his ear. "When Ginevra told me you would be staying here for another year and hadn't gotten you a stocking, I wouldn't stand for it. So I made you this one myself."

Scorpius turned to see Molly Weasley, Albus's grandmother, beaming at him.