The Winter Holidays

The Next Morning

Scorpius woke up the next morning to a beam of sunlight peaking in through the heavy curtains in Albus's room. He rubbed his eyes to gain clarity on all of the small dust particles floating in the air, illuminated by the bright ray of sun.

Before he could remember the events of the previous night, he rolled over to see if Albus was still asleep. Of course he wasn't. Scorpius knew his sleeping habits, and he could all but pray that it wasn't the afternoon.

He pulled back the covers, instantly missing the safety and warmth that they provided. Dressing quickly, Scorpius made his was down the hall to the bathroom to brush his teeth and tame his unruly hair. Shortly after, he made his way downstairs to see if he had any day left after his beauty sleep.

Mr. Potter appeared to be cleaning up breakfast with the help of Mrs. Potter, who didn't actualy seem to be much help. Scorpius came to the conclusion that Mr. Potter made a very good house wife for Ginny.

Finishing up his pancakes, Albus sat at the table, a startled look painting his face. He jumped when Scorpius entered the room, Mr. Potter rushing to spell the fork that had fallen off of the table into the soapy sink.

Albus's cheeks turned a dark red and he excused himself from the table, despite being the last one there. Scorpius pursued him into the empty living room, finally having a chance to corner him and talk about what happened last night, even though he could see that Albus was doing everything in his power to avoid this little conversation.

"Albus, please," Scorpius hissed. The kitchen was connected to the living room by a hallway, which was most likely enough distance between the two boys and Albus's parents not to be overheard, but Scorpius wasn't in the mood to take that for granted.

"There- There's not much to say, Scorp. It wasn't anything personal I just- I-"

"Albus, you're fine. I wasn't going to pressure you for an explanation. I just wanted to make sure that you knew it doesn't matter, I won't hold it against you," Scorpius finished with a lighthearted chuckle.

"Oh- I- Ok," Albus let out a sigh. "Can we just forget it ever happened?"

"Forget that what ever happened?"

Albus rolled his eyes at Scorpius's cheesy affirmation as he turned to leave the living room. Unfortunately, this gave his eyes a chance to catch the mistletoe hanging above the doorway.

"Albus, what are you waiting for?" Scorpius questioned, moving to stand across from his best friend in the doorway leading out of the living room.

His eyes poured over his and Albus's surroundings, trying to figure out why Albus was still caught in the doorway.

Was it a spell? Some sort of leg locking jinx?

He looked up, his eyes suddenly locking in on the small green sprig with little red berries that was spelled to glimmer and bloom just above his head.

Scorpius was tempted to take the mistletoe down, just so Albus would make his way out and this awkward conversation could finally conclude. A small voice warned him against it. This voice was also whispering 'Why don't you lean down an inch or so. Albus would most definitely meet you in the middle...'

"Scorpius?" Albus whispered.

Scorpius let out a noise; something like a breathy laugh, but just a little too anxious to feel lighthearted.

"It's just a silly Christmas tradition. Nothing the gods will hold against us if we forfeit, right?"

"Right," Albus replied automatically. He noticed that Scorpius still hadn't moved from the doorway. "Breakfast? Well, I already ate, but I'm sure Dad would be happy to make something for you; it was nearly 10:30 and you hadn't gotten up yet, so I figured you wouldn't be upset with me if I..."

"Breakfast," echoed Scorpius. "Are you sure it wouldn't be too much trouble for Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, come on Scorpius. You heard what Mom said. You're practically family. Call him Harry, or better yet, call him Dad. I bet he'd get a kick out of that one."

The boys made their way to the kitchen, all traces of discomfort left behind in the living room. The hallway wasn't large and held a single window, allowing only a small sliver of sunlight to reach to the boys as they made there way back into the kitchen. They started talking about less pressing matters; school Quidditch matches, mispronounced spells, etc, completely unaware that the mistletoe they had left behind in the living room door had stopped blooming; its glimmer gone as if it hadn't been there in the first place.

The kitchen was incredibly tidy, thanks to Harry's tireless wand work. Harry now sat at the head of the long dining room table, admiring the outcome of his cleaning.

Albus walked into the kitchen and granted Harry a simple "Hi Dad," before sitting down next to his father.

Not far behind, Scorpius walked into the kitchen to join the other two.

"If it's not to much trouble, I wanted to ask if you would make me a little something for breakfast, Pops."

"Sure son, I'd be hap-"

Harry's cheeks flushed for a moment when he realized what he had just called his son's best friend. Albus wore a similar expression, his filled with even more shock than his father's.

Scorpius stood in the doorway, smirking like a fool. He hadn't expected Harry to call him 'son' and he was touched, but his emotions were overwhelmed with satisfaction and hilarity when Harry reacted exactly the way Scorpius had intended.

Once the blush had subsided from Harry's face and his body unclenched, (probably a side effect of calling his secret past-crush's son his own), he got up from the table and headed over to the fridge, mumbling a quick 'Course'.

Scorpius's gaze shifted over to his best friend, still sat at the dining table. The shocked expression on Albus's face had now washed over into a look of 'are you alright?'. Scorpius walked over and sat himself on the bench next to Albus, huddling in close, indicating that he had something secret to tell him.

"I wouldn't go spreading it around, but I was once told that my father used to fancy yours back in their school days." Scorpius snickered at Albus's dumbstruck expression. "After the way he just reacted, it seems to me that the feeling was mutual."

Albus's hand clasped over his mouth, but not soon enough to block the laughter now erupting from his mouth.