I've got a little prompt for you: Can you imagine Albus hunched over his Potions book and crossing instructions out and muttering to himself? Then Scorpius comes in and catches him writing in his book. How would their conversation go?
Thanks, anon, for giving me something to do while I was stuck in a massive queue on the coach ride home! I hope this fulfils your prompt!
“What?” Albus glances briefly up from his potions book, distracted, then he goes back to scribbling in the margins; crossing out instructions, and rewriting ingredients lists.
“Severus Snape,” Scorpius repeats, pointing to the book. “That’s what he used to do. Vandalising his potions books.” He dumps a pile of parchment onto the table and flops down opposite Albus.
“I’m not vandalising it,” Albus mutters. “I’m making it easier to use. We’re doing this potion tomorrow, and I know I’ll forget something crucial if I don’t make notes now.”
Scorpius grins and rests his chin on his hands. “My potions prince. I never thought I could learn to love a boy who defiles his books, but here we are. You even look quite attractive doing it.”
Albus flushes pink, all the way to the tips of his ears, and he doesn’t look up from his book. “Are you going to do any work or are you just going to sit there and make unsolicited comments?”
Scorpius slides his chair sideways along the floor, so the wooden legs screech on the stonework. Several people glare at him, and he gives them an apologetic grin and hand wave.
When everyone’s no longer looking at him, he leans close to Albus and peers down at the book. “I was actually going to copy your notes. Will you translate for me? You know I can’t read your- Why are you looking at me like that?”
Albus has looked up at him, eyes wide in mock astonishment, a smirk twisting across his face. “Scorpius Malfoy, asking to copy my work?”
Scorpius digs him in the ribs. “Come on, you know you’re better at potions than me.”
Albus shoves his elbow away. “The biggest nerd in existence, not wanting to make his own potions notes? Is the world ending?” He tickles Scorpius’s side, and Scorpius shrieks and half falls off his seat, robes wrapped round him, clinging onto the chair and the table to prevent himself being completely dumped on the floor. Everyone else in the Common Room turns to glare at him again.
“Albus,” he hisses. “Don’t tickle. It’s cruel, and you’re disturbing everyone.” He waves at them all again, and they tut and shake their heads as they return to their work.
Albus grins and wiggles his fingers at him. “Cheaters get tickled.”
“I’m not a cheater!” Scorpius swishes his robes and flumps back into his seat, pouting. “Come on. I just want to have a look. They’re only notes. If you explain the theory to me I can do them myself.”
Albus considers him for a moment, then his expression melts. “You actually mean that. You’d sit there and do all these stupid calculations yourself.” He shakes his head and grins. “You’re such a geek.”
Scorpius pokes him in the arm. “You did them for yourself first. Look who’s calling who a geek.”
Albus holds his hands up. “Okay, okay! I’ll let you share my notes. Just this once. Because I love you.”
Scorpius hugs him. “You’re the best, you know that?”
Albus smiles. “Really? Even though I graffiti my books?”
Scorpius frowns and looks down at the book, which is black with spidery scribbles. “Yes, I think so. But I feel very very sorry for your books, and I’d like to register my most heartfelt disapproval.”
Albus grins and taps him on the nose. “Noted. Now, shall we start with the Knotgrass?”