(no subject)
Title: Advice
Rating: pg13 probably, maybe closer to R.
Word Count: 4394
Disclaimer: I do not own. JK does.
Prompts: the primary inspiration was the Ocean's Eleven quote. also used deck of cards, George Weasley, greed, casino, poker chips, the gambler lyrics, poker face lyrics, hitting the jackpot, cocktails. (ie: all. but only 6 count because i used 4 for my other fic)
Summary: Whilst Albus isn't Crabbe or Goyle, he's by no means a cunning Slytherin, so Scorpius helps him out. Albus then proceeds to fail at each instruction.
Warnings: this Albus has inherited Harry's CAPS RAGE nature, purposely poorly done het!sex, kind of anti-marriage (i'm imagining the wizarding world twenty years in the future like USA today)
Albus got sorted into Slytherin by the skin of his teeth, just barely escaped being sorted into Gryffindor. On the train he'd made a friend of Scorpius Malfoy, and James had acted a right berk to both of them, and by the time he was sitting on the stool all he could think of were devious plans for revenge. That doesn't mean he fits in well, he's got the ambition but no urge to skulk for it like most of the rest of the house. When things are over his head, Scorpius, a cunning shrewd man if ever there was, works things out for him.
you look down, they know you're lying
There are a few benefits of having parents and relatives in the Ministry. For one, Albus could get in any sort of trouble and not actually get in trouble. A more unscrupulous child would use that to his advantage, but with the goals he has Albus can't afford any scandal in the future for what he did in the past. A second is rare but feasible, convincing someone to change a law.
The third is by far the most useful. His family can get a hold of objects that might be rarer, spells that might only be in one restricted access book.
James, Albus, and Lily have never been met at platform nine and three quarters for pick up. James has been dropped off a total of three times, once for his own first year, then once for each of his sibling's first times, giving Albus two opportunities and Lily one. Albus isn't sure why his parents don't go, but he quite likes travelling by portkey home.
This year it's an old poker chip, white notation of point value completely worn off. Instead of a true grip, Albus and Lily only pinch a thumb and finger on it, and wait for it to spring.
It lands them in the kitchen. Mum is nowhere to be seen, but Dad is sitting at the table doing a crossword.
"Wasn't expecting you home so soon. Lily, did you get the chance to snog Oliver before you left?"
"He's a prat, and I hate him!" Lily shouts, stomping her foot.
"I'll take that as a no, then. Albus, did you get your goodbyes with Sheila?"
Albus looks down at the floor so Dad can't see his expression. Scorpius, unimpressed, has told him a million times how people can see his lies on his face. He doesn't need Dad to see them. "Er, yeah. Had a right snog before her parents came to get her."
"Well, that's good then. Either of you know a nine letter word for something you pluck off a tree and roast?"
Lily drops her trunk on the wooden floor, then pulls up a second chair so she can take her own look at the crossword. Albus, who isn't one for wordplay, begins dragging his trunk down the hall and up the stairs.
you look up and they know you don't know the truth
Albus is used to being asked advice from others. Somehow all his cousins look straight past the green and silver tie and think he's the best for it. They seem to think he's got the intellect of a Ravenclaw, and the compassion of a Hufflepuff, and whilst Albus doesn't agree he does try his best. Slytherin or not, he can't make himself abandon his family.
After George and Angelina's divorce, Fred and Roxanne chose to live with their father, a choice which did not go over well. Angelina often tries to bribe them back to her 'loving' embrace, and whilst Roxanne isn't having it, Fred generally lets himself reap the rewards of her attention. The latest was a trip to a goblin run casino, the goblins don't care that he's underage, as long as he still provides sickles at the table. Fred knows better then to brag about his winnings to his father or his sister, they would rather cut out his tongue
So Fred comes to Albus, and pours out all the tales of adventure. He tells him about playing exploding snap for money, and about the House Elf fight he got invited to but could only watch for a moment before leaving, not having the hardened heart needed to watch Elves stab and beat each other with miniature weapons. Then, right in the middle of an anecdote about a goblin becoming very hostile towards some stupid bloke spelling dice, he asks
"How do you eat out a girl?"
Albus, of course, has no idea. Stalling for time, he asks why. If he can get Fred to start talking about the prozzies he met at the casino then maybe he can avoid the whole conversation.
Sadly, it's not to be that easy. "I figure I should know, this woman in a low cut shirt told me she'd let me do it for a few galleons, but I didn't want to because I don't know how. And it doesn't matter for her, but I don't want to disappoint my future girlfriends. So, how do you do it?"
Albus casts his eyes to the heavens, trying to come up with divine inspiration. Failing to be touched by the hand of god, he attempts a guess. "Er, well, you mostly just put your mouth on them and go. You have to hold the fleshy bits apart though, otherwise all the flappy skin gets in the way. And then birds have this thing called a clitoris, it's like the head of a cock but for girls, you know how you like wanking and pressing your thumb against the slit? Well, girls like it when you touch their clit. So, yeah. There you go."
Fred raises an eyebrow for a second, ruining Albus' brief elation at getting through the instructions intact. "Right. So, I was at the Snap table and..."
don't use seven words when four words will do
"So, tell me about Sheila."
Albus blanches, turns his head away from the kitchen table where his mum is sitting with her hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea, never mind that it's the middle of the summer.
"If you don't want to tell me, it's alright. I can understand my son wanting his privacy."
Albus feels utterly sick to his stomach, but he starts to make a sandwich. Anything for an excuse to not look her in the face.
"Only, you sounded so happy in your letters. I thought you might want to talk in sonnets for a moment when James and Lily won't hear and laugh."
He can't tell her that every word of Sheila is false, concocted by himself and Scorpius, just like Scorpius' letters to the Malfoys regarding Elizabeth. He can't tell her that they spent hours arguing over what their girlfriends might look like, what personality traits they might have. He grits his teeth and starts, praying he doesn't change any of the facts he's committed to paper over the last year.
"She's great. Beautiful. Well kind of. She's got a Seeker's physique."
"So, no jokes from Charlie or George about bust lines when she comes to visit?"
A, it's disgusting that he's talking to his mother about the breasts of his made up girlfriend. B, the idea of Mum expecting his made up girlfriend to visit is terrifying. He can't even pay one of his Slytherin acquaintances to polyjuice as her, seeing as she doesn't have a scalp to steal a hair from.
"Yeah, I guess. But she doesn't play. Erikson was better, and she's got too much pride to be second. I think if Erikson broke his neck, she still wouldn't step in to play."
"Pride is a very Gryffindorish characteristic."
"Not really, Slytherins are proud of their contracts, Ravenclaws proud of their knowledge, Hufflepuffs proud if, I dunno, they make someone smile?"
"What else do you want to tell me?"
For just a moment she sounds too wise, like she somehow knows. But Albus shakes the paranoia off, continues chopping the tomato for his sandwich. "She's not just proud. She's got ambition, she's going to be Minister some day. If one of the other Slytherins doesn't take it, I swear it's the aim of at least half our house."
Mum doesn't chuckle like he expects her to, and then he remembers that in her day there was a string of horrible ministers. She probably doesn't like the idea of a Slytherin being in charge, Gryffindor bias holding true to the last, despite her own child.
Albus wracks his mind for other facts he knows he's said in his letters, there must be something about favourite food or worst class, but he comes up blank. Luckily, that's when James bursts in the house, broom over his shoulder.
"Need...sustenance..." he pants. He leans the broom against the wall before opening the cooling cupboard door and pulling out a carton of milk. He drinks straight from the carton, whilst Mum yells at him to get a glass and behave like a civilised human being.
James casts his eyes about the counter, then his brow furrows. "You greedy bastard, you took the last of the rye bread!"
Albus holds out his masterpiece sandwich, not a bite taken from it yet. "You eat it," he mutters.
don't shift your weight, look at your mark but don't stare
"So, why again do I have to go to the bar with you?"
"It's not a bar, you can't drink." Louis says primly, straightening the wrinkles of his shirt.
"I'm sure someone will buy me a drink." Albus replies, confident in his sex appeal. It's not cheating if he doesn't do anything.
"You're meant to dance, not scam cocktails off older women. And you're going because I'm going, but I certainly can't go alone."
It's a mess trying to get to the club in question, between them they can barely figure out how to hail a taxi, never mind offer a good route so they're not ripped off. Albus doesn't know the conversion to muggle money very well, that's a question for Aunt Hermione or Uncle George, and figures they're most likely being over charged, but can't call the man on it.
Once inside he sees that Louis is right. It's meant to be an underage club, and there's no alcohol at all. In vain attempt to dance like Louis wants, he joins the periphery of the dancing area. Albus does he best to mimic the others, he moves his arms spasmodically and tilts from side to side.
"You have got to be the worst dancer I've ever seen. Next time I'm taking Hugo." It's a low blow, as Hugo would rather tackle someone then wrap his arms around them. Albus resolutely ignores Louis and continues his movement.
At least until he spots a gorgeous dancer. He freezes, unable to take his eyes off the lithe form. His hair is plastered to his cheeks with sweat, face flushed red. It's obvious he's been dancing for hours, and Albus hopes he never stops.
Louis, busy gyrating, looks up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Albus quickly darts his eyes to the left, not sure if Louis has seen his focus of attention. Thankfully he doesn't say anything, just goes back to moving to the music.
be specific but not memorable
It's impossible to not be dragged into the drama of Victoire's marriage somehow. Albus hates the idea for a score of reasons, though he keeps them all silent.
First of all, she's only twenty three. With the life expectancy of wizards being around two hundred, that means she'll be stuck with the same person for 175 years. It's completely obscene to contemplate.
Second, it doesn't seem fair that she's tying down the best bloke he knows. Albus is aware that Teddy thinks he loves Victoire, but in twenty years he might not, and if Teddy's the one that has to leave the family it'll be horrible. Angelina deserved to be exiled, but not Teddy. His cousin really hit the jackpot with him.
Third, marriage as an action just plain irritates him. He's old enough to remember Uncle Percy's marriage to Aunt Audrey, being forced to wear thick fancy robes that itched and made him sweat. He's not sure Lily remembers, she was only three, but she ate a chip of caviar at the after party and started vomiting everywhere.
Fourth, marriage as an ideal irritates him. It claims that wizards and witches with a ring and a piece of paper are somehow more in love then those without. If one was to say mothers or fathers who wore a necklace every day loved their children more then those without, everyone would find that stupid. But because it's a ring it somehow means something. Sheer stupidity.
Unfortunately, somehow the Potter household has become headquarters for the wedding planning. Albus doesn't know how it happened, and does his best to be out of the house whenever Victoire comes over. If he has to look her in the face for more then a minute he's liable to tell her what a stupid thing she's doing.
He's sneaking out the backdoor, better to ask the neighbour to use his Floo then risk walking through the house and catching their attention, when Aunt Fleur trills out "Albus, James, Lily, come to the sitting room!"
It's the last thing he wants to do, but Mum is well aware that all her children are home and he'll be yelled at indefinitely if he ignores the call. he makes his way to the floral wallpapered room with a scowl on his face. It makes sense that they're in that room, it's the one he hates the most, with the old delicate furniture and the elegantly faded wallpaper and the creaking wooden floor.
"This is her first fitting!" Audrey exclaims when his siblings finally enter. "Isn't she gorgeous?"
Albus has to admit that Victoire does look pretty in the dress. Then he remembers how many hundreds of galleons it costs and decides it isn't worth it.
"I can't believe I'm getting married! Isn't it wonderful?" Victoire does a spin and the bottom of the dress flares out and that's when Albus snaps.
"I suppose it's good, as far as marriage goes."
"What do you mean?" With less then ten words Albus has managed to crush the high of all the women in the room, but he doesn't care.
"Just, doesn't anyone think the idea that only straight people deserve to be acknowledged as loving each other is bullshit?"
"What?"
"I think marriage is a heterosexist concept, and whilst I hope you're happy with it I can't possibly say I think it's a good idea." Aware that the eyes of everyone in the room are on him, he storms out. If he can't get married, he doesn't see why he should be happy about his cousin getting married.
be funny but don't make him laugh
Albus Floos to Wheezes whenever he's bored, has since he started Hogwarts. It's sort of tradition; once you're old enough to go to school you're old enough to hear any dirty jokes Verity might spout off. Angelina never visited Uncle George at work, Albus can't say he was surprised when they decided to divorce. Judging from a Slytherin perspective, it was an alliance doomed to failure, like Frank Goyle wanting to be the third generation of henchmen for the Malfoy line.
All the cousins spend a lot of time at Wheezes. It's a good meeting place for chums that don't have Floo addresses, and generally once you meet a friend they don't really want to leave. There's been times where there might be five or six cousins with ten or twelve friends in the store, and only two really customers, but George never seems to mind. How can he, when his best mate, Lee Jordan is there every day beside him?
It's not just hanging out with friends in an amusing place that makes everyone feel comfortable. It's George, and Lee, and Verity, none of whom treat them like just because they're teenagers they're morons. Albus has had some fascinating conversations with his uncle, and customers often have interesting things to say, even if they don't end up buying anything.
It's only on occasion that Albus has difficulty. He's in the shop with Roxanne when a stranger comes in that's obviously gay. Whilst Albus doesn't necessarily believe in stereotypes, if this bloke isn't gay Albus has slipped into an alternative dimension. No straight man would wear purple capris, a neon blue shirt with a stripe of mesh across the chest, nor have bleached blond hair.
What's worse is that the man seems be interested in Albus. He tries to stand unobtrusively at the end of the aisle facing the counter, he doesn't want to be noticed, but the bloke has other ideas. He shimmies over to Albus and touches him on the shoulder before giggling, and calling out ooops, and he's got a sodding lisp. Then he reaches for a product above Albus' head, thrusting his body against Albus, who recoils in horror. Even if he wasn't taken, flaming is not his type.
"So, uh, he really liked you," Roxanne gets out before bursting into laughter once the man is gone.
"I think someone like that would like anyone. Or anything," he says, trying to throw attention of the fact that he might be semi-hard from the full body contact, "You know what they say. Four gay men walk into a bar, but it's a busy night and there's only one stool left. So one pulls a sickle from his pocket and says 'lets flip for it', but the others shake their head, and one says 'no, lets flip it over'."
George crosses his arms, and Lee shakes his head, dreds flying out with the movement of air. "Not cool, little one."
Albus recognises the look on George's face. It's the same one that Scorpius has when one of the Slytherins tells a joke much like the one he's just said. It's a look that says you fucking homophobic bastard, and often times when Scorpius has it Albus has to restrain him from attacking with a tight grip on his arm. They've agreed to be silent, and Albus isn't going to let Scorpius ruin it by letting him have a tantrum. He hates the look, hates that he's caused it, but crude jokes are better then somebody knowing.
he's got to like you then forget you the moment you've left his side
The problem with Aunt Hermione's strong ties to the muggle world is that her children, despite being fully magical, have an interest in all things muggle. Rose knows how to drive a car, actually lives in a fully muggle flat in London, just apparating to work. Hugo is no better, at fifteen he's already begging Rose to give him a chance to back it out of the parcade.
Hugo also likes muggle sports. All muggle sports. He doesn't care if they're British, or American, or Chinese in origin, he wants to play. He is the only person Albus knows that would want to play creaothceann, though the game is completely illegal.
It would be okay if Hugo just played, but that's not enough for him. He wants to covert everybody to his games, and if he's not teaching Amber Finnegan to play basketball, or trying to start a baseball team at Hogwarts, he's dragging whomever he can to his practices. Every day in the summer he's got a different practice to go to, and if Albus isn't at Wheezes there's a good chance he's playing football or cricket.
Today's game is rugby, and whilst Albus doesn't consider himself a coward, if he had known how much bodily contact there was going to be he probably wouldn't have offered to play. Not because of the injury, any bruise - or, if it comes to it, broken bone - can be healed with magic, though Mum won't be pleased. Just, it's difficult to constantly be rubbing up against other blokes and try to control his body. It's not like Albus would ever cheat on him, but they're all quite fit.
After a few hours the game degenerates to a horrible game of tag, even worse then the rugby for violence as there's no goal, just run after people and throw them to the ground any way you can. It's even worse for his erection, getting touched a dozen times a minute by sexy blokes that are all inevitably straight. Albus plays along as best he can, tackling others low enough that when they go down his groin hits the grass, not their stomach or legs.
Hugo tackles him whilst he's distracted, and pinned under his massive cousins body Albus realises he's hard enough that surely Hugo can feel him. To try to distract him he mutters "you'd think with me as your cousin you'd give me a break on the bone crunching."
"When it's love if it's not rough it's not fun," Hugo grins before scrambling off him and offering his hand. Albus takes it, stands using Hugo as a lever, then promptly tackles him, groaning as a few blokes jump onto his back to make it a dogpile.
and for God's sake, whatever you do, don't, under any circumstances…
"I'm so fucking drunk," Albus laughs, tossing a seven of clubs on top of the seven of hearts.
Lily puts down a two of hearts and James curses her as he picks up two cards. Lily's winning, she's only got one card left in her hand. "You said that already, brother dearest."
For some reason it seems vitally important that each shot he takes he announces how much more drunk he is then the five minutes before. "Yeah, I know. It's 'cause I'm really drunk. Hah."
James mutters an apology before putting down the ace of hearts, meaning Albus' turn is skipped. Lily puts down a eight of hearts, shrewd of her to save it for when she might need it, and the game is over. James knows a spell for shuffling, but it's against the rule of the game which states winner has to shuffle. Lily picks up the deck of cards and starts it manually.
"Albus?" James slurs.
"Yeah?"
"For a taste of your whiskey I'll give you some advice?"
Albus thinks about it for a second. He doesn't really care about the advice, but it seems fair to give his older brother a shot or two. He passes the bottle across the table and waits with half a smirk for James' mind blowing revelation.
His sarcasm sinks, as does his heart, when James says "We all know that you're having sex with blokes."
"Er?" the only thing his drink saturated brain can think of is to get up and run away as fast as he can. But he doesn't think he has the stability for it. He'd probably fall and break his leg and have to take some skelegrow and be stuck listening to them for hours.
"Yep. Pretty much everyone's figured it out. You keep lying to mum and dad about having a girlfriend, but you check out guys all the time. Louis and Hugo and me and James and a few more of us have seen it. And then you told Auntie Fleur and Victoire that marriage is stupid and anti-gay, and there's only one reason you'd care about that."
At that Albus can respond. "Yeah! Because it is stupid and anti gay. You don't have to be gay to think that it's unfair!"
"No, but you do have to be gay to get hard at a rugby game." James replies.
"Oh sod this! Hugo told you? What is this, a conspiracy? Are you all lounging around in the fucking sitting room talking about my sexuality? What utter shit is this?"
"No, it's not a conspiracy. We just... compared notes." If Lily sees Albus rolling his eyes she doesn't acknowledge it, merely continues. "Look, the point is, you might as well stop lying. No one is falling for it. In fact, tell us a story."
"What?"
"Tell us a story. About Samuel, not Sheila." James answers.
He snatches the bottle back from James and takes a deep slug straight from the opening. "Samuel and I like to fuck a lot. Do you know how gay people fuck? We still have mouths, and we still have cocks. It's probably not that much different from how you both fuck, though I'm not sure about either of your virginity statuses, stati? because somehow it's always the gay man that has to lecture about his life like it's something to gawk at, not the straight ones."
Albus takes another gulp. "The difference is the cock sometimes goes into the arse. It works well, as men have this gland that feels rather great being pressed against. I guess that's why girls don't like anal, there's no point to it."
Albus takes another gulp. "We also like to talk a lot. I'm sure you know how. The straights do it, from what I've heard." his fourth gulp in less then five minutes makes his stomach churn, but it's the only way he can talk about this. "And guess what? We love each other. And that's precisely why this isn't any of your business, Mum and Dad with their questions, Hugo and Louis with their insinuations, Victoire with her anti-gay bullshit, YOU TWO WITH YOUR WISE STATEMENTS."
It's not the first time he's stormed out on a drinking session. In fact, most drinking sessions with James and Lily end up with one of the three leaving in a plastered huff. He's halfway down the hall before he turns back, slamming the door behind him. "AND I DON'T WANT TO BE ASKED AGAIN. There are other queers in this family, I'm not outing anyone, but you can go prod into their business, not mine."
"Oh, you mean Uncle George and Lee? Yeah, everyone knows that too." Lily responds.
"I HATE YOU BOTH!" this time when he storms out he means it. Sod them all. It's his fucking choice, their mutual decision to stay closeted, and his family doesn't have the right to open that door if he doesn't want it opened.
Rating: pg13 probably, maybe closer to R.
Word Count: 4394
Disclaimer: I do not own. JK does.
Prompts: the primary inspiration was the Ocean's Eleven quote. also used deck of cards, George Weasley, greed, casino, poker chips, the gambler lyrics, poker face lyrics, hitting the jackpot, cocktails. (ie: all. but only 6 count because i used 4 for my other fic)
Summary: Whilst Albus isn't Crabbe or Goyle, he's by no means a cunning Slytherin, so Scorpius helps him out. Albus then proceeds to fail at each instruction.
Warnings: this Albus has inherited Harry's CAPS RAGE nature, purposely poorly done het!sex, kind of anti-marriage (i'm imagining the wizarding world twenty years in the future like USA today)
Albus got sorted into Slytherin by the skin of his teeth, just barely escaped being sorted into Gryffindor. On the train he'd made a friend of Scorpius Malfoy, and James had acted a right berk to both of them, and by the time he was sitting on the stool all he could think of were devious plans for revenge. That doesn't mean he fits in well, he's got the ambition but no urge to skulk for it like most of the rest of the house. When things are over his head, Scorpius, a cunning shrewd man if ever there was, works things out for him.
you look down, they know you're lying
There are a few benefits of having parents and relatives in the Ministry. For one, Albus could get in any sort of trouble and not actually get in trouble. A more unscrupulous child would use that to his advantage, but with the goals he has Albus can't afford any scandal in the future for what he did in the past. A second is rare but feasible, convincing someone to change a law.
The third is by far the most useful. His family can get a hold of objects that might be rarer, spells that might only be in one restricted access book.
James, Albus, and Lily have never been met at platform nine and three quarters for pick up. James has been dropped off a total of three times, once for his own first year, then once for each of his sibling's first times, giving Albus two opportunities and Lily one. Albus isn't sure why his parents don't go, but he quite likes travelling by portkey home.
This year it's an old poker chip, white notation of point value completely worn off. Instead of a true grip, Albus and Lily only pinch a thumb and finger on it, and wait for it to spring.
It lands them in the kitchen. Mum is nowhere to be seen, but Dad is sitting at the table doing a crossword.
"Wasn't expecting you home so soon. Lily, did you get the chance to snog Oliver before you left?"
"He's a prat, and I hate him!" Lily shouts, stomping her foot.
"I'll take that as a no, then. Albus, did you get your goodbyes with Sheila?"
Albus looks down at the floor so Dad can't see his expression. Scorpius, unimpressed, has told him a million times how people can see his lies on his face. He doesn't need Dad to see them. "Er, yeah. Had a right snog before her parents came to get her."
"Well, that's good then. Either of you know a nine letter word for something you pluck off a tree and roast?"
Lily drops her trunk on the wooden floor, then pulls up a second chair so she can take her own look at the crossword. Albus, who isn't one for wordplay, begins dragging his trunk down the hall and up the stairs.
you look up and they know you don't know the truth
Albus is used to being asked advice from others. Somehow all his cousins look straight past the green and silver tie and think he's the best for it. They seem to think he's got the intellect of a Ravenclaw, and the compassion of a Hufflepuff, and whilst Albus doesn't agree he does try his best. Slytherin or not, he can't make himself abandon his family.
After George and Angelina's divorce, Fred and Roxanne chose to live with their father, a choice which did not go over well. Angelina often tries to bribe them back to her 'loving' embrace, and whilst Roxanne isn't having it, Fred generally lets himself reap the rewards of her attention. The latest was a trip to a goblin run casino, the goblins don't care that he's underage, as long as he still provides sickles at the table. Fred knows better then to brag about his winnings to his father or his sister, they would rather cut out his tongue
So Fred comes to Albus, and pours out all the tales of adventure. He tells him about playing exploding snap for money, and about the House Elf fight he got invited to but could only watch for a moment before leaving, not having the hardened heart needed to watch Elves stab and beat each other with miniature weapons. Then, right in the middle of an anecdote about a goblin becoming very hostile towards some stupid bloke spelling dice, he asks
"How do you eat out a girl?"
Albus, of course, has no idea. Stalling for time, he asks why. If he can get Fred to start talking about the prozzies he met at the casino then maybe he can avoid the whole conversation.
Sadly, it's not to be that easy. "I figure I should know, this woman in a low cut shirt told me she'd let me do it for a few galleons, but I didn't want to because I don't know how. And it doesn't matter for her, but I don't want to disappoint my future girlfriends. So, how do you do it?"
Albus casts his eyes to the heavens, trying to come up with divine inspiration. Failing to be touched by the hand of god, he attempts a guess. "Er, well, you mostly just put your mouth on them and go. You have to hold the fleshy bits apart though, otherwise all the flappy skin gets in the way. And then birds have this thing called a clitoris, it's like the head of a cock but for girls, you know how you like wanking and pressing your thumb against the slit? Well, girls like it when you touch their clit. So, yeah. There you go."
Fred raises an eyebrow for a second, ruining Albus' brief elation at getting through the instructions intact. "Right. So, I was at the Snap table and..."
don't use seven words when four words will do
"So, tell me about Sheila."
Albus blanches, turns his head away from the kitchen table where his mum is sitting with her hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea, never mind that it's the middle of the summer.
"If you don't want to tell me, it's alright. I can understand my son wanting his privacy."
Albus feels utterly sick to his stomach, but he starts to make a sandwich. Anything for an excuse to not look her in the face.
"Only, you sounded so happy in your letters. I thought you might want to talk in sonnets for a moment when James and Lily won't hear and laugh."
He can't tell her that every word of Sheila is false, concocted by himself and Scorpius, just like Scorpius' letters to the Malfoys regarding Elizabeth. He can't tell her that they spent hours arguing over what their girlfriends might look like, what personality traits they might have. He grits his teeth and starts, praying he doesn't change any of the facts he's committed to paper over the last year.
"She's great. Beautiful. Well kind of. She's got a Seeker's physique."
"So, no jokes from Charlie or George about bust lines when she comes to visit?"
A, it's disgusting that he's talking to his mother about the breasts of his made up girlfriend. B, the idea of Mum expecting his made up girlfriend to visit is terrifying. He can't even pay one of his Slytherin acquaintances to polyjuice as her, seeing as she doesn't have a scalp to steal a hair from.
"Yeah, I guess. But she doesn't play. Erikson was better, and she's got too much pride to be second. I think if Erikson broke his neck, she still wouldn't step in to play."
"Pride is a very Gryffindorish characteristic."
"Not really, Slytherins are proud of their contracts, Ravenclaws proud of their knowledge, Hufflepuffs proud if, I dunno, they make someone smile?"
"What else do you want to tell me?"
For just a moment she sounds too wise, like she somehow knows. But Albus shakes the paranoia off, continues chopping the tomato for his sandwich. "She's not just proud. She's got ambition, she's going to be Minister some day. If one of the other Slytherins doesn't take it, I swear it's the aim of at least half our house."
Mum doesn't chuckle like he expects her to, and then he remembers that in her day there was a string of horrible ministers. She probably doesn't like the idea of a Slytherin being in charge, Gryffindor bias holding true to the last, despite her own child.
Albus wracks his mind for other facts he knows he's said in his letters, there must be something about favourite food or worst class, but he comes up blank. Luckily, that's when James bursts in the house, broom over his shoulder.
"Need...sustenance..." he pants. He leans the broom against the wall before opening the cooling cupboard door and pulling out a carton of milk. He drinks straight from the carton, whilst Mum yells at him to get a glass and behave like a civilised human being.
James casts his eyes about the counter, then his brow furrows. "You greedy bastard, you took the last of the rye bread!"
Albus holds out his masterpiece sandwich, not a bite taken from it yet. "You eat it," he mutters.
don't shift your weight, look at your mark but don't stare
"So, why again do I have to go to the bar with you?"
"It's not a bar, you can't drink." Louis says primly, straightening the wrinkles of his shirt.
"I'm sure someone will buy me a drink." Albus replies, confident in his sex appeal. It's not cheating if he doesn't do anything.
"You're meant to dance, not scam cocktails off older women. And you're going because I'm going, but I certainly can't go alone."
It's a mess trying to get to the club in question, between them they can barely figure out how to hail a taxi, never mind offer a good route so they're not ripped off. Albus doesn't know the conversion to muggle money very well, that's a question for Aunt Hermione or Uncle George, and figures they're most likely being over charged, but can't call the man on it.
Once inside he sees that Louis is right. It's meant to be an underage club, and there's no alcohol at all. In vain attempt to dance like Louis wants, he joins the periphery of the dancing area. Albus does he best to mimic the others, he moves his arms spasmodically and tilts from side to side.
"You have got to be the worst dancer I've ever seen. Next time I'm taking Hugo." It's a low blow, as Hugo would rather tackle someone then wrap his arms around them. Albus resolutely ignores Louis and continues his movement.
At least until he spots a gorgeous dancer. He freezes, unable to take his eyes off the lithe form. His hair is plastered to his cheeks with sweat, face flushed red. It's obvious he's been dancing for hours, and Albus hopes he never stops.
Louis, busy gyrating, looks up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Albus quickly darts his eyes to the left, not sure if Louis has seen his focus of attention. Thankfully he doesn't say anything, just goes back to moving to the music.
be specific but not memorable
It's impossible to not be dragged into the drama of Victoire's marriage somehow. Albus hates the idea for a score of reasons, though he keeps them all silent.
First of all, she's only twenty three. With the life expectancy of wizards being around two hundred, that means she'll be stuck with the same person for 175 years. It's completely obscene to contemplate.
Second, it doesn't seem fair that she's tying down the best bloke he knows. Albus is aware that Teddy thinks he loves Victoire, but in twenty years he might not, and if Teddy's the one that has to leave the family it'll be horrible. Angelina deserved to be exiled, but not Teddy. His cousin really hit the jackpot with him.
Third, marriage as an action just plain irritates him. He's old enough to remember Uncle Percy's marriage to Aunt Audrey, being forced to wear thick fancy robes that itched and made him sweat. He's not sure Lily remembers, she was only three, but she ate a chip of caviar at the after party and started vomiting everywhere.
Fourth, marriage as an ideal irritates him. It claims that wizards and witches with a ring and a piece of paper are somehow more in love then those without. If one was to say mothers or fathers who wore a necklace every day loved their children more then those without, everyone would find that stupid. But because it's a ring it somehow means something. Sheer stupidity.
Unfortunately, somehow the Potter household has become headquarters for the wedding planning. Albus doesn't know how it happened, and does his best to be out of the house whenever Victoire comes over. If he has to look her in the face for more then a minute he's liable to tell her what a stupid thing she's doing.
He's sneaking out the backdoor, better to ask the neighbour to use his Floo then risk walking through the house and catching their attention, when Aunt Fleur trills out "Albus, James, Lily, come to the sitting room!"
It's the last thing he wants to do, but Mum is well aware that all her children are home and he'll be yelled at indefinitely if he ignores the call. he makes his way to the floral wallpapered room with a scowl on his face. It makes sense that they're in that room, it's the one he hates the most, with the old delicate furniture and the elegantly faded wallpaper and the creaking wooden floor.
"This is her first fitting!" Audrey exclaims when his siblings finally enter. "Isn't she gorgeous?"
Albus has to admit that Victoire does look pretty in the dress. Then he remembers how many hundreds of galleons it costs and decides it isn't worth it.
"I can't believe I'm getting married! Isn't it wonderful?" Victoire does a spin and the bottom of the dress flares out and that's when Albus snaps.
"I suppose it's good, as far as marriage goes."
"What do you mean?" With less then ten words Albus has managed to crush the high of all the women in the room, but he doesn't care.
"Just, doesn't anyone think the idea that only straight people deserve to be acknowledged as loving each other is bullshit?"
"What?"
"I think marriage is a heterosexist concept, and whilst I hope you're happy with it I can't possibly say I think it's a good idea." Aware that the eyes of everyone in the room are on him, he storms out. If he can't get married, he doesn't see why he should be happy about his cousin getting married.
be funny but don't make him laugh
Albus Floos to Wheezes whenever he's bored, has since he started Hogwarts. It's sort of tradition; once you're old enough to go to school you're old enough to hear any dirty jokes Verity might spout off. Angelina never visited Uncle George at work, Albus can't say he was surprised when they decided to divorce. Judging from a Slytherin perspective, it was an alliance doomed to failure, like Frank Goyle wanting to be the third generation of henchmen for the Malfoy line.
All the cousins spend a lot of time at Wheezes. It's a good meeting place for chums that don't have Floo addresses, and generally once you meet a friend they don't really want to leave. There's been times where there might be five or six cousins with ten or twelve friends in the store, and only two really customers, but George never seems to mind. How can he, when his best mate, Lee Jordan is there every day beside him?
It's not just hanging out with friends in an amusing place that makes everyone feel comfortable. It's George, and Lee, and Verity, none of whom treat them like just because they're teenagers they're morons. Albus has had some fascinating conversations with his uncle, and customers often have interesting things to say, even if they don't end up buying anything.
It's only on occasion that Albus has difficulty. He's in the shop with Roxanne when a stranger comes in that's obviously gay. Whilst Albus doesn't necessarily believe in stereotypes, if this bloke isn't gay Albus has slipped into an alternative dimension. No straight man would wear purple capris, a neon blue shirt with a stripe of mesh across the chest, nor have bleached blond hair.
What's worse is that the man seems be interested in Albus. He tries to stand unobtrusively at the end of the aisle facing the counter, he doesn't want to be noticed, but the bloke has other ideas. He shimmies over to Albus and touches him on the shoulder before giggling, and calling out ooops, and he's got a sodding lisp. Then he reaches for a product above Albus' head, thrusting his body against Albus, who recoils in horror. Even if he wasn't taken, flaming is not his type.
"So, uh, he really liked you," Roxanne gets out before bursting into laughter once the man is gone.
"I think someone like that would like anyone. Or anything," he says, trying to throw attention of the fact that he might be semi-hard from the full body contact, "You know what they say. Four gay men walk into a bar, but it's a busy night and there's only one stool left. So one pulls a sickle from his pocket and says 'lets flip for it', but the others shake their head, and one says 'no, lets flip it over'."
George crosses his arms, and Lee shakes his head, dreds flying out with the movement of air. "Not cool, little one."
Albus recognises the look on George's face. It's the same one that Scorpius has when one of the Slytherins tells a joke much like the one he's just said. It's a look that says you fucking homophobic bastard, and often times when Scorpius has it Albus has to restrain him from attacking with a tight grip on his arm. They've agreed to be silent, and Albus isn't going to let Scorpius ruin it by letting him have a tantrum. He hates the look, hates that he's caused it, but crude jokes are better then somebody knowing.
he's got to like you then forget you the moment you've left his side
The problem with Aunt Hermione's strong ties to the muggle world is that her children, despite being fully magical, have an interest in all things muggle. Rose knows how to drive a car, actually lives in a fully muggle flat in London, just apparating to work. Hugo is no better, at fifteen he's already begging Rose to give him a chance to back it out of the parcade.
Hugo also likes muggle sports. All muggle sports. He doesn't care if they're British, or American, or Chinese in origin, he wants to play. He is the only person Albus knows that would want to play creaothceann, though the game is completely illegal.
It would be okay if Hugo just played, but that's not enough for him. He wants to covert everybody to his games, and if he's not teaching Amber Finnegan to play basketball, or trying to start a baseball team at Hogwarts, he's dragging whomever he can to his practices. Every day in the summer he's got a different practice to go to, and if Albus isn't at Wheezes there's a good chance he's playing football or cricket.
Today's game is rugby, and whilst Albus doesn't consider himself a coward, if he had known how much bodily contact there was going to be he probably wouldn't have offered to play. Not because of the injury, any bruise - or, if it comes to it, broken bone - can be healed with magic, though Mum won't be pleased. Just, it's difficult to constantly be rubbing up against other blokes and try to control his body. It's not like Albus would ever cheat on him, but they're all quite fit.
After a few hours the game degenerates to a horrible game of tag, even worse then the rugby for violence as there's no goal, just run after people and throw them to the ground any way you can. It's even worse for his erection, getting touched a dozen times a minute by sexy blokes that are all inevitably straight. Albus plays along as best he can, tackling others low enough that when they go down his groin hits the grass, not their stomach or legs.
Hugo tackles him whilst he's distracted, and pinned under his massive cousins body Albus realises he's hard enough that surely Hugo can feel him. To try to distract him he mutters "you'd think with me as your cousin you'd give me a break on the bone crunching."
"When it's love if it's not rough it's not fun," Hugo grins before scrambling off him and offering his hand. Albus takes it, stands using Hugo as a lever, then promptly tackles him, groaning as a few blokes jump onto his back to make it a dogpile.
and for God's sake, whatever you do, don't, under any circumstances…
"I'm so fucking drunk," Albus laughs, tossing a seven of clubs on top of the seven of hearts.
Lily puts down a two of hearts and James curses her as he picks up two cards. Lily's winning, she's only got one card left in her hand. "You said that already, brother dearest."
For some reason it seems vitally important that each shot he takes he announces how much more drunk he is then the five minutes before. "Yeah, I know. It's 'cause I'm really drunk. Hah."
James mutters an apology before putting down the ace of hearts, meaning Albus' turn is skipped. Lily puts down a eight of hearts, shrewd of her to save it for when she might need it, and the game is over. James knows a spell for shuffling, but it's against the rule of the game which states winner has to shuffle. Lily picks up the deck of cards and starts it manually.
"Albus?" James slurs.
"Yeah?"
"For a taste of your whiskey I'll give you some advice?"
Albus thinks about it for a second. He doesn't really care about the advice, but it seems fair to give his older brother a shot or two. He passes the bottle across the table and waits with half a smirk for James' mind blowing revelation.
His sarcasm sinks, as does his heart, when James says "We all know that you're having sex with blokes."
"Er?" the only thing his drink saturated brain can think of is to get up and run away as fast as he can. But he doesn't think he has the stability for it. He'd probably fall and break his leg and have to take some skelegrow and be stuck listening to them for hours.
"Yep. Pretty much everyone's figured it out. You keep lying to mum and dad about having a girlfriend, but you check out guys all the time. Louis and Hugo and me and James and a few more of us have seen it. And then you told Auntie Fleur and Victoire that marriage is stupid and anti-gay, and there's only one reason you'd care about that."
At that Albus can respond. "Yeah! Because it is stupid and anti gay. You don't have to be gay to think that it's unfair!"
"No, but you do have to be gay to get hard at a rugby game." James replies.
"Oh sod this! Hugo told you? What is this, a conspiracy? Are you all lounging around in the fucking sitting room talking about my sexuality? What utter shit is this?"
"No, it's not a conspiracy. We just... compared notes." If Lily sees Albus rolling his eyes she doesn't acknowledge it, merely continues. "Look, the point is, you might as well stop lying. No one is falling for it. In fact, tell us a story."
"What?"
"Tell us a story. About Samuel, not Sheila." James answers.
He snatches the bottle back from James and takes a deep slug straight from the opening. "Samuel and I like to fuck a lot. Do you know how gay people fuck? We still have mouths, and we still have cocks. It's probably not that much different from how you both fuck, though I'm not sure about either of your virginity statuses, stati? because somehow it's always the gay man that has to lecture about his life like it's something to gawk at, not the straight ones."
Albus takes another gulp. "The difference is the cock sometimes goes into the arse. It works well, as men have this gland that feels rather great being pressed against. I guess that's why girls don't like anal, there's no point to it."
Albus takes another gulp. "We also like to talk a lot. I'm sure you know how. The straights do it, from what I've heard." his fourth gulp in less then five minutes makes his stomach churn, but it's the only way he can talk about this. "And guess what? We love each other. And that's precisely why this isn't any of your business, Mum and Dad with their questions, Hugo and Louis with their insinuations, Victoire with her anti-gay bullshit, YOU TWO WITH YOUR WISE STATEMENTS."
It's not the first time he's stormed out on a drinking session. In fact, most drinking sessions with James and Lily end up with one of the three leaving in a plastered huff. He's halfway down the hall before he turns back, slamming the door behind him. "AND I DON'T WANT TO BE ASKED AGAIN. There are other queers in this family, I'm not outing anyone, but you can go prod into their business, not mine."
"Oh, you mean Uncle George and Lee? Yeah, everyone knows that too." Lily responds.
"I HATE YOU BOTH!" this time when he storms out he means it. Sod them all. It's his fucking choice, their mutual decision to stay closeted, and his family doesn't have the right to open that door if he doesn't want it opened.