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It had been a long, lazy stretch of summer so far. James knew he had to work on getting a job soon - there were spots at the Ministry, positions his dad had been nudging him into looking after for a few weeks or so now. But it was his last summer, the last time he'd get to spend time off with Albus and Lily, so the job hunt hadn't been pressing. That'll change in the fall, Harry had warned, and that had been perfectly alright with James: he was looking forward to getting his own flat and escaping from the house as quickly as he could.

"Hey," he greets, opening the door to Albus's room without so much as a knock, "grab your broom, I thought we might go flying-"

When his eyes land on Scorpius's face, the words die on his tongue.

"-what are you doing here?"

Never has there been a more accusing sentence in the English language.

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Merlin, I need to smooth myself down, James thinks to himself, belatedly a little embarrassed over how easily his own feathers are getting ruffled. He moves to stand next to Scorpius, ignoring the thought of how easy it would be to nudge him it. Really, it would be a joke, not an outright attack - but there'd be no convincing him of that, would there? So he bites his tongue and resists the urge.

"Yeah?" He casts a sidelong glance at him. "Am I supposed to be impressed, Malfoy?" It falls a little flat, but it's clear that he's trying to be playful.

Scorpius looks up, grinning at James. "It wouldn't be a part of my house if it wasn't meant to impress somebody," he says, half in jest but mostly it's also true. His parents have always been desperate to show the world that not only are they good people but that they were not ruined by the War. Even if it had cost their family quite a bit in the end.

Standing, he stretches. "We have a pool, too. And a small Quidditch court that nobody ever uses. And a ballroom. Seriously, a ballroom, Potter. In my house." He chuckles, the sound of it a little husky. "I suppose you didn't see the article in Witch Weekly about it. They did a whole expose thing about the wealth of upper class magical families." An article Harry, as a good father, had turned down on many occasions, but which Draco and Astoria felt was more important to their reputation. "It was painfully humiliating."

"I'd kill for a Quidditch court out here," James admits, stretching his upper arms as he looks out over the pond again. He'd thumbed through the articles, sure, but mostly in just a vague, bored sort of way; he was the son of Harry Potter, and as vain as it sounded, he wasn't often given to jealousy of other wizarding families.

A Quidditch pitch, though. That sounded fantastic.

"Sounds useless for the most part, though. Not like you're ever around to use any of it, are you?"

"Tell me about it," Scorpius says, frowning. His mother had been overly protective of him growing up, which mean no flying on brooms when she was around until he was at least eight. It was sort of embarrassing to say they'd had the pitch longer than that and he hadn't used it until then and even then, minimally. Under his father's supervision.

"Sometimes it's like living in a museum." After he says it, he realizes he's talking to James and not Albus, and he goes a little red at the honesty of his admission.

"Anyway. What else do the great Potters have besides a pond with ducks? Please at least tell me you have a secret cave or something." There were a lot of rumors, and Al was very hush-hush about it all.

"Yeah, well- been in the family forever, hasn't it? Not really surprised you'd be scared of breaking stuff in it." It was a weird concept to consider. There were precious few things to pass down from the Potter side of the family, and everything from the Weasley side was well-worn, frugal and used lovingly until it couldn't be used anymore. Practical, pragmatic; Scorpius's home has a ballroom, and they don't even have a guest room.

James laughs a little under his breath, leaning down to pick up a flat stone, flinging it across the top of the pond. It skips thrice, and he frowns, dissatisfied. "Not that I've seen, and we've been all over, growing up. Guess we're a bit boring here, mate."

"How droll," Scorpius muses, but there's a glint of amusement in his tone. Teasing. It's something that drew him to the Potters in the first place, maybe something that draws everyone in: they're just...different. They should be prissy fucks with sticks up their arses, noses in the air, but instead Al had offered him help in Potions and Lily often said hello to him in the hallways. It was really only James who was so defensive, and even then, here he was now, calling Scorpius 'mate'.

They were a weird family, the Potters. But Scorpius found himself a little jealous of the ease of their lives here.

He'd done a lot of thinking since the day he'd decked Scorpius in the face. Not that he'd come to an overabundance of revelations, really, but thinking had certainly happened, and this little outing - this brief peek into his actual personality - made it hard to just blindly vilify him. Maybe they could have been friends, if it weren't for the House and the name, he thinks to himself.

"Droll?" he echoes, and there's a little snort in his tone. "Just wait until mum breaks out the board games on Saturday night. You're in for a real treat then."

Scorpius gives James a placating look. "Please tell me your family does not seriously play board games." Scorpius had never, in his life, and wasn't about to start now! Al hadn't mentioned anything about that. Could he at least fake ill or something to get out of it?

"And if they do, I'll pay you to tell me how to get out of it." The very last thing he wanted was to be forced to sit across from Harry and Ginny Potter.

And for that, James just answers by fixing Scorpius with the most charming grin that he can muster.

"If we have to suffer, so do you," he says, and one wouldn't even have to listen very closely to hear the utter smugness in his tone.

"Oh, come on," Scorpius whines, folding his arms and stepping up to James. "You can't seriously want me to suffer so much that you're willing to as well." No one wanted to play board games.

Did they??

It was a horrifying thought to Scorpius. "Come on. What's a bloke need to trade for some sympathy?"

It really wasn't as bad as all that -- with the exception of Al, the rest of them could get so competitive that the games usually ended up downright hilarious. It was fun; James was just too much of an eighteen year old boy to admit that out loud.

Regardless, he folds his arms in a playful mimicry of Scorpius's stance, leaning imposingly in when the other boy steps up.

"Sorry. You stay here, you have to follow the rules of the house."

Merlin. Right now was a downright horrible time to start looking at the line of James Potter's jawline and how he had a bit of stubble under his chin and to notice that his lips were a little wind-chapped and his hair needed trimming. Awful timing, really. And yet, there it was. A feeling in his gut that said James Potter was dangerously attractive. Appealing, even.

Scorpius met the other boy's eyes in defiance. "You're ridiculous," he says, and that's...the lamest insult, but really, he's rather distracted by James's eyes, so please excuse his lack of wit.

"That's all you've got?" James answers, and he's not even thinking about any of that: instead, the anger and indignation from a little earlier is gone, and he's instead stepping even closer and dropping his own arms. Just a little nudge into the pond, he thinks, because he used to wrestle Al into it all the time until he started running to Dad about it, and James was left bored and restless and full of energy he had nothing to do with. "I'm ridiculous, am I. Tell me something I don't know."

"And here I thought you wouldn't want your ridiculousness broadcast," Scorpius grumbles, taking a tentative step back. His heart is stupidly pounding, and really, he does't have the best track record of having or keeping friends because of shit like this. One minute he can chat about the weather, and the next, he's wound up thinking about kissing them. It never ends well. Barely ended well with Al.

The heel of Scorpius's trainers are damp from the pond's bank. "Potter," he snaps. "Stop it." The I'm not touching you shit is getting old.

"Stop what?" James asks, and the grin on his face is almost predatory now as he steps in to close the distance that Scorpius puts between them. "I'm not doing anything. Sort of offended you'd accuse me of as much, I told Al I'd behave."
It doesn't occur to him that Scorpius's reaction might be to anything but fear of being tossed into the water, or of being hexed - he was a strange boy with a thing for his brother, not him.

"Yeah, well, excuse me if I don't take your word for it," he says, tersely, trying his best not to back up any further. If he does, he's going to be knee deep in the pond, and, well, he's not prissy but he does like to keep his nice clothes dry, thank you very much.

"Potter. I'm serious." Merlin, he wishes he could use his wand right about now. Hex the smug smile off James's face.

"About what, Malfoy? Tell me what I'm doing wrong right now." His hands come up, gently clasping Scorpius's upper arms, the pads of his thumbs smoothing out his sleeves. This was going to be fun - his blonde hair could use a little mud, he thinks.

"You're---"

Scorpius stops as James grabs him. His hands fly up automatically, to grip at Potter's wrists. Shit. Shit. This is getting out of hand and quick, and really, he's not sure what to do. Normally, he might take this for flirtation, but James had made it pretty clear he wasn't like that. Hadn't he?

"Well, for starters, you're grabbing me," he finishes, dully. Should he kiss James? Push him away? What if he was just messing with him?

"Am I really?" James answers with a breathless little laugh. "I hadn't noticed." And then he pushes him - not hard enough to hurt or to cause damage by any mean, but certainly with enough strength to topple most people over into the shallow pond. It doesn't really occur to him that he's on muddy ground, that Scorpius's grip on his wrists might not break when he falls.

James's belated thoughts will certainly come to the forefront, as he won't be going down without a fight. All thoughts of romance or anything of that nature fly from his mind as James pushes him, and he goes down like a leaf blown by the wind. But he holds on, too surprised to do anything else but grip James's wrists for dear life.

With a little noise of panic, Scorpius goes down, and he takes James with him. Straight into the water of the old pond, filled with Merlin only knew what. It stunk. That was Scorpius's last thought before he went under, hauling James along for the ride.

And when he came up, he looked much like a drowned ferret. All that blond hair really didn't look so nice plastered to his pale skin. Standing up in the waist deep water with a gasp, he looks at James like the other boy has hexed his eyebrows off or something. Right now, he thinks that would've been better.

Adrenaline takes over, and with a scoff, he throws himself at James. It shouldn't be amusing to be this dirty. To be wrestling in the water with James Potter. Beside himself, Scorpius might be smiling. A little.

Oh, hell, now he was going to end up wet and muddy too-- he goes under with a gasp and comes up sputtering pond water, but he's laughing all the while even as he spits the water out. Scorpius looks ridiculous, and that's all that matters: that had been his goal from the beginning, and he's utterly pleased with himself, fully expecting the other boy to throw a tantrum and to go storming back to the house.

Except he tackles him, and is that a smile on his face? James is stunned into inaction for a moment, before he snaps out of it, trying to find a way to wrap his arms around the other boy, to drag him out into deeper water to dunk him again.

"No way, you've already gotten me once, you're gonna pay for that you little brat--"

But there's laughter still in his words.

"You're the one who-----" Gasp, as he's taken under, then a wet noise when he comes up, splashing at James in retribution. "---started this!" Oh. James Potter. You little shit. You are in so much trouble right now, and damn, how can you manage to look go soaking wet too? Stupid Potters.

Pulled under by James, with James's arms wrapped around him, Scorpius kind of maybe might have reacted a little slower than usual because he liked that. James's hands on him. They're bigger than Al's hands.

This time, when they come up, Scorpius splutters, coughing up water and squinting against it in his eyes. "Okay, okay!" he spits. "Merlin, you're obnoxious."

James is soaked from head to toe as well, hair dripping and clinging to the side of his face, and the water does a good job of making his hair reflect the sunlight - he's conventionally attractive, sure, but it would probably be much more striking if he weren't literally coughing up water and laughing as all of this was happening.

He still has his arms wrapped around Scorpius, holding him there in the chest-deep water, and his grin is puppylike as he leans in close and asks: "You'll sit through the board games without complaint?"

Scorpius feels chilled for reasons beyond the fact that he's in cold pond water in all his clothes. James has leaned in, is grinning (Scorpius can just bloody tell by the tone of his voice), and is holding tight to Scorpius, like... Well, unlike anything Scorpius has experienced.

He twists in the other boy's arms, glaring up at him over his shoulder. "Who could ever promise such a thing?" he scoffs, cheeks a little red now that their faces are so close.

"You'd better," James warns, "if you want to make it out of the pond without getting dunked again. I've got a few good ones in me left, Slytherin." But he's still grinning, still trying not to howl laughter and let him go. Deliberately, he chooses not to dwell on the warmth of the other boy in his arms, how appealing the sight of him so close is. Weird, stupid stuff that doesn't deserve a second thought.

Edited 2014-04-03 23:08 (UTC)

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