A girl with shining chestnut hair ran up and enveloped him in a hug. “Play well, darling,” she whispered as she nuzzled his ear.
Scorpius looked into her eyes and then kissed her soundly on the lips. “I always do, Ariadne; you know that.”
She pulled away reluctantly, but he caught her again by the waist and tweaked one of her soft curls. “I’ll see you after the match. We should ... uh ...celebrate.”
“I’d like that,” she murmured softly. “I’d like that a lot, Scorpy.”
He bit back the irritation that surged in him when she called him that ridiculous name. After all, he didwant to celebrate later. He kissed her again, ruffled her hair and then patted her on the bottom as she scurried off to the stands.
“Feeling good!” called Johnson Vaisey, the Slytherin captain.
“Yep, Potter’s mob has no chance,” Scorpius replied. “You heard he quit as Seeker “ moved to Chaser?”
“Couldn’t compete with you or the Potter legend,” Vaisey guffawed. “Wonder who’ll replace him?”
“Probably some spotty second year that they think is brilliant! Won’t take me long to faze him out. Shame the Potters don’t have another kid,” Scorpius said. He turned around to laugh with Vaisey, but something else caught his eye. There walking alongside the Gryffindor captain, was their new Seeker.
She was short, slight of build, and, considering it was her first match (and that she was flying against him) didn’t look at all nervous. Instead, she stared rather insolently back, her red hair glinting in the autumn sun, chomping on an apple. Her mouth slowly turned up at the corners, and she laughed.
“Merlin, you are scraping the barrel, selecting your sister, Potter!” Vaisey catcalled. “I thought you’d realised, by now, that the famous Potter and Weasley Quidditch genes have skipped a generation. Must be such a disappointment to them both, eh, Scorpius?”
Scorpius didn’t reply. He watched as Albus gripped his broom tightly, a scowl marring his features. Lily placed a hand on his arm, as if to restrain him. Staring at both the Slytherins, she tossed her head back, took another bite of her apple, and then threw her core towards them. “See you on the pitch, Malfoy. I’ll be the one holding the Snitch.”
As quick as a cat, Scorpius snatched at the spinning core and caught it nonchalantly. “Thanks for the practice, baby Potter ... but I think you’ll find you need it more than me.”
Lily winked at her brother. “We’ll see ... Scorpy!” she simpered in a sickly sweet tone.
Albus laughed, and then they linked arms and walked back to the rest of the Gryffindor team.
Scorpius scowled. There was something in his hand; looking down, he saw with exasperation that he was still holding her apple core. Throwing it into the air, he pointed his wand and blasted it out of the sky. That’s what I’ll do to your team today, Lily Potter!
“Oh, not bad,” Scorpius muttered grudgingly under his breath, as Lily Potter took to the air. He hovered over the centre of the field, watching her soar into the sky and then flashily turn in front of him. Sitting upright, she lifted one hand above her head and punched the air in triumph. Scorpius raised one eyebrow sardonically, but then laughed as she wobbled precariously and nearly slipped off. Hurriedly, she replaced both hands on the broom and flew off.
“Not so sure now, are you, baby Potter?” he yelled after her and laughed again as, without looking back, she made a rude gesture to him before swooping down to talk to her brother.
The game was played at a furious pace, and Scorpius could see exactly why Albus had decided to switch to Chaser “ he was quite brilliant. Charging into Slytherins, swerving away from Bludgers and swooping towards the hoops, he beat the Keeper time and time again. With a twinge of frustration, Scorpius realised that the teams were no longer evenly matched. Albus was tearing Slytherin apart. At one hundred and ten to twenty, Scorpius knew the match would be down to him. He needed to catch the Snitch, and catch it before Potter’s team got further ahead.
Vaisey was swearing at the Keeper down below, after he’d let another Quaffle through the centre hoop, but Scorpius shook his head. They’d been too bloody complacent “ both him and his captain. They hadn’t even held try-outs this season, assuming that they had the best team possible.
“Hell! Flint’s sodding useless,” he cursed as he watched the Beater miss an easy chance to whack Albus.
“For fuck’s sake, he was practically static...you moron!” Scorpius yelled.
“Nice team spirit you have going there, Scorpy,” came her voice again, adding, “We always think encouragement is the best way forward in Gryffindor.”
The words sounded so patronisingly pompous coming from her lips that Scorpius wanted to hex her just to shut her up. But then something caught his eye “ the Snitch. Turning quickly on his broom, he swooped down towards the Gryffindor hoops. With a yelp, Lily followed him, but she was too far behind. Scorpius could hear her on his tail, but knew she wouldn’t pass him. He stretched out his hand to make the catch, but, just at that moment, the Snitch flew off, and it was lost again. He landed lightly on the ground and heard a soft thud as she landed too. He looked around at Lily, who was grinning ruefully at him; to his surprise, he found he was grinning back.
“Lily!” bawled Albus. “You weren’t concentrating at all. He nearly had it. Now, get back into the air and start playing. I can’t do this all by myself!” He flew back to the other players, catching the Quaffle from Natalie Thomas, one of Lily’s dorm mates.”
“Yeah, that really was encouraging of your brother, eh, Lily?” Scorpius mocked. “Great team spirit!”
She nodded brusquely at him and tossed her head back defiantly, but Scorpius noticed she was biting her lip and wondered if it was an attempt to stop it trembling. “Your brother’s an arse,” he muttered as he flew alongside her.
Lily looked at him in surprise. He thought she had been about to smile, but instead she shook her head. “He just wants to win, that’s all. Isn’t that what we all want?”
Without waiting for his reply, she spun off again, the breeze billowing at her scarlet and gold robes, the sun picking out the myriad of colours in her hair. Despite the angry words from her brother, Lily was laughing as she wove around the pitch, enjoying the very feel of flying.
Scorpius envied her.
It had been a long, long time since he’d felt that thrill, that exuberance and sheer joy of being alive in the air. Now, the game was all-important, especially as it was against Gryffindor.
He was more than a little surprised at Lily Potter. Her game plan, which he assumed would be to follow him round until he spotted the Snitch and then hope to make a lucky catch, seemed, instead, to consist of her searching by herself. She spent more time keeping out of his way and scanning the horizon than watching him, although he caught her glancing at him once or twice, and Scorpius wondered about that.
He shook his head, wondering about a stupid Gryffindor fifth year was not going to help his game. Flying another circuit of the stadium, he sped past the Hufflepuff stand and slowed in front of his faithful Slytherins, who gave him a rousing cheer. Ariadne was beaming at him; he winked back at her, blowing a kiss. He heard the collective gasp of Gryffindors before he saw the flash of gold and red streaking past him.
“Fucking hell!” he cursed, jetting away desperately in pursuit. Was it a trick? he thought, but no, Lily Potter was not slowing down. Glancing behind her and catching sight of him now gaining on her, she sped up and up, higher in the sky. Scorpius roared his anger, but she would not be distracted. I can’t lose to a bloody new player, especially not a Gryffindor, however pret - He stopped that thought from forming in his brain and, gritting his teeth, he accelerated.
“You are not going to make that catch, Potter!” he yelled at her, but Lily laughed. In desperation, Scorpius inched further up his broom, and leant towards her. Lily dodged him.
“Your dad tried that one on mine, Malfoy. Grabbing the broomtail is a low trick, but what else should I expect?” she shouted scornfully.
“I wasn’t,” he shouted back, but Lily wasn’t listening. He could see her stretching out now, the Snitch tantalizingly close. His only chance was to...
She made the catch and he heard her shriek triumphantly just as he fell from his broom after taking both hands off and overreaching.
Plummeting to the ground, hitting the Slytherin goal as he fell, he sank into unconsciousness. He thought he heard someone screeching in horror, but it couldn’t have been her.
He could smell a mixture of freshly laundered sheets, lavender, and an overpowering scent that he’d never much cared for, so when Scorpius opened his eyes, he wasn’t surprised to see that he was in the hospital wing and Ariadne was sitting by his bedside.
“Oh, Scorpy,” she breathed, as her eyes welled with unshed tears. “You’re awake.”
State the bloody obvious, why don’t you? he thought irritably. “What happened?”
“You fell off your broom, and ... um ... didn’t catch the Snitch. But don’t worry, Vaisey’s put in a complaint about the Potter girl.”
“Why?” Scorpius jerked his head up and yelped as pain shuddered through his shoulder and head.
“She pushed you off, or hexed you, or something, Vaisey says,” Ariadne replied. “Don’t worry, we’ll get the match replayed ... She might even get a ban!”
“She didn’t push me off,” he insisted. “She got there first. Merlin, my head hurts. Ariadne, go and get Madame Bones, would you? I think I’m going to be sick.”
She looked at him in alarm; for a moment, he wondered if it was his injury worrying her or the fact that he was refuting Vaisey’s story. He sank his head back into the pillow, feeling a lot less nauseous now that she’d left.
By the third morning of his stay in the hospital wing, Scorpius was bored out of his skull. Madame Bones had told him that he had to stay until he was fully fit, for the fall had not only broken a lot of his bones but the bang to the head had left him unconscious for hours as well. He could, he know, have argued that he was fine (and in truth he felt a lot better) but apart from the boredom, he rather liked being in here away from everything. ‘Everything’ being Ariadne and Vaisey, who were annoyingly persistent in visiting him every spare moment they had. Vaisey had told him that the professors were only waiting for his testimony, and then the match would be awarded to them.
“She didn’t push me!” Scorpius kept saying, but Vaisey would only sigh and say his memory had been affected. Why can’t he just accept that Potter’s team was better? he thought, as he watched his disgruntled captain leave his bedside for the fourth time that day.
Ariadne, meanwhile, had brought him a huge bar of Honeydukes chocolate and a silver green ‘Get Well Soon’ card she’d had specially made and delivered from the card shop in Hogsmeade (Madam Carina’s Exclusive Wand-Crafted Cards for All Occasions). She had been a constant presence at his bedside “ cosseting and clucking over him when he was awake. Scorpius had taken to feigning sleep when she turned up.
He heard someone steal into the ward; hastily, he closed his eyes. Whoever it was (the footsteps didn’t sound heavy, like Vaisey’s, or sharp, like Ariadne’s, and instead they were soft and hesitant) sat down in the chair by his bed and did not leave. He heard a sigh, and cautiously opened one eye.
“HA! I knew you weren’t asleep!”
Lily Potter was leaning back in the chair, eating another apple “ one from his fruit basket, this time “ and staring at him.
“What do you want, baby Potter?” he asked sarcastically. “Come to beg me not to tell how you pushed me off the broom?”
She whitened. “I ... I ... I didn’t do that,” she stuttered. “Please, you must-”
“Must tell the truth so you don’t get into trouble,” he finished her sentence for her. She swallowed a bite of the apple. “Forget about it. I haven’t said a word.”
“Oh,” she said, looking discomforted. “Um... Thank you. Actually, that’s not the only reason I came.” She took a deep breath and then placed her apple core on the bedside cabinet. “Everyone says you’ve lost your memory, and I wouldn’t want you to think that I had pushed you... and,” she hesitated, “... and ... I had to see if you were okay.”
Scorpius was momentarily lost for words. He usually had a smart reply to everything, but the trembling in Lily’s voice and the fact that she was now blushing had struck him dumb. “I’m fine,” he muttered at last, “and I know you didn’t push me, just as I didn’t try to grab your broom. I overreached and fell off; that’s what I’ve been telling Vaisey.”
She smiled impishly at him, and, after checking the clock on the opposite wall, stood up. “I should go. I know you didn’t try to grab my broom tail, by the way. I only said that to distract you.”
“You don’t have to go,” he blurted out, propping himself up on his elbow.
Lily stopped walking away and half turned her head. “My brother told me to stay away from you.”
He twisted his mouth into a sardonic smile. “You’d better do what he tells you then, hadn’t you, baby Potter.”
She turned her head around fully and stared at him, her hazel eyes locking intently on his. He thought she was about to turn back, but she appeared to change her mind because she walked determinedly to the door and out of the ward.
In a fury at not having the match awarded to Slytherin or at least replayed, Vaisey called for a practise session the weekend after Scorpius was released from hospital. It was scheduled for ten o’clock, but Scorpius lied to Ariadne and said it was an hour earlier because he needed time alone. The Slytherins were treating him with the utmost respect; they said nothing to his face, but he knew that, behind their calm demeanours, the team were blaming him for missing the catch. They’ve conveniently forgotten that Potter was playing out of his skin, he thought as he stomped towards the Quidditch pitch.
As he arrived, he cursed himself for not reading the practise schedule on the notice board. Potter was there, with the other Gryffindors, corralling them into incredible moves. He sat in the Slytherin stand and watched. They were slick, they were fast and “ bloody hell “ they looked like champions.
“Spying on us, Scorpy?” chirped a voice above. He looked up, not at all surprised to see Lily there.
“No, we have a practise session planned. I just wanted to arrive early,” he replied, hating that he sounded so defensive.
She swung down and perched herself on the ledge. “What do you think?”
Scorpius looked at her, sweaty and breathless from the session. Her eyes sparkled, and her red, slightly moist lips curved into a smile. “Sensational,” he murmured, as he looked straight at her.
“We are, aren’t we,” Lily agreed.
He leant back in the chair, stretched out his legs and propped them on the ledge next to her. “I wasn’t talking about the team,” he said slyly, liking the flush that appeared on her cheeks.
“Lily!” shouted Albus. “The session’s over.”
She rolled her eyes at Scorpius. “I have to go, or Albus will spend the rest of the weekend lecturing me. Honestly, I thought James was protective, but at least he could be fun.” She mounted her broom. “Have a good practise, Scorpy.”
“Don’t call me that!” he said abruptly. Lily hesitated and stared at him. He continued, “Please, I really hate it.”
“Oh!” Lily sounded a bit flustered. “I assumed you liked it. I’ve heard your girlfriend use it and ... um ... Well, sorry then. What shall I call you? Malfoy? Scor?” She giggled. “Pius?”
“I have a full name “ Scorpius. What’s wrong with that? Or do you like being called Lil or Lils?”
She laughed. “Point taken.” They heard Albus bellowing again. “I have to go. I hope you have fun, Scorpius,” she said hesitantly, the name not quite rolling off her tongue.
He gazed as she flew off, lazily looping up and down in the sky, no care in the world, enjoying the feel of riding the wind. No fear of falli-
Scorpius closed his eyes tight and refused to let the fear emerge. He would be fine. He was fine, fully healed and raring to go.
The pitch was empty when he opened his eyes. Glancing at his watch, he saw there was still twenty minutes before the Slytherin team arrived -still twenty minutes for him to practise by himself. He walked down the solid wooden steps and onto the pitch. Mounting his broom, he kicked off, ignoring the lurch of fear that seemed to wave through his stomach. After a while, when his stomach had settled, he flew higher, circling the pitch slowly, breathing deeply, anything to stop the images he had flashing before his eyes of red and gold robes blurring, Quidditch hoops, and the muddy ground smacking him in the face.
“Oh, gods,” he gasped fearfully. He pointed his broom towards the ground and slowly descended. Slumped against the goalposts, he tried to compose himself before the Slytherin team arrived.
“You’re not okay, are you?”
“Go away, baby Potter.”
She ignored him and sat down on the grass. “You know something,” she said idly, “I have it much easier than Albus.”
“What?” he asked irritably, wondering why the hell she was still here and why she thought he’d be remotely interested in her brother.
“Albus looks very like Dad, you see, so people think he’s just like him, whereas I can just get on being me.” She stood up, and, to Scorpius’ surprise, she started to do cartwheels on the field.
“Is there a point to this touching family story?” he called to her.
Lily stopped cartwheeling and collapsed next to him. “Over the holidays, we play a lot of Quidditch, and, this summer, my brothers suddenly realised what Mum and Dad had been saying for years.”
“Which was?” he asked, intrigued despite himself. He edged closer to her, noticing that she’d closed her eyes against the bright October sun.
“That their sister was actually a bloody good flyer. Of course, until James left, there was no chance for me to get on the team “ and,” she smiled ruefully, “I’m not like Mum. I don’t have Chaser instincts. I like flying, soaring into the sky and swooping to catch small golden objects.”
Scorpius lay down next to her. “I like the glory,” he admitted. “I like the feeling that I’ve won the game.”
Lily laughed. “Yeah, me too.” She stopped speaking. Scorpius propped himself on his elbow and looked down at her. Her red hair, wet after a shower, was plastered to the side of her face. Totally unlike the sleek and polished look of Ariadne, she was clearly not his type, yet ... He lowered his head towards hers, wondering what her lips would feel like against his, whether they’d taste as sweet as they looked.
“So what’s your problem now, then?” she asked, her eyes still closed. “Is it because you lost?”
He pulled back and sat up. “Mmm, I’m a bad loser, so I throw a tantrum. Isn’t that what you think?” he replied, and ran his hands through his hair. “I have lost games before, you know. I don’t like losing, but I can deal with it.”
“Then why were you flying so badly earlier?” she demanded, her eyes wide open, staring at him, forcing the truth from him.
He was about to deny anything, tell her he was flying fine, that he had no problems at all, but a noise from the changing rooms alerted him to the Slytherin team’s arrival. “Shit!” he muttered.
Lily looked at him oddly, and he wondered what expression showed on his face. She rummaged in her bag. “Here,” she said hurriedly, handing him a small wrapped packet.
He unwrapped the twist of paper to find a pink sweet. “What is it?”
“A Pustule Pip,” she muttered. “One of my Uncle George’s latest inventions. So new they’re not in the shops yet.” She giggled. “Fred is doing a roaring trade on the black market with them.”
“Why would I want it?” he asked, but wouldn’t look her in the eye.
Lily shrugged. “No idea, but perhaps if you’ve had enough of flying for one day, you might want an excuse ...” She glanced at Vaisey who was bearing down on them. “I’d better go. Look, the effects wear off in two hours, but you’ll look repulsive until then.”
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” Scorpius asked her as she ran off.
Her laughter echoed around the stadium. “You don’t!”
His eyes followed her as she fled away, her red hair swinging like rats’ tails. He tried to imagine Ariadne ever looking quite so bedraggled, but the thought made him laugh. Ariadne never looked anything less than perfect; that was why he was seeing her.
“Was that the Potter girl?” queried Vaisey.
Scorpius nodded. “Yeah, I caught her sneaking around, probably wanted to spy on us.” Casually, he lifted the hand containing the Pustule Pip to his mouth and then took the sweet in his mouth. “I told her where to go.”
As Scorpius bit into the sweet and swallowed the liquid inside, he could feel something bubbling under his skin. “Oh, Merlin,” he cried and, crouching over on all fours, he was violently sick.
“Did she hex you again?” shouted Vaisey, a murderous look in his eyes.
“No,” Scorpius managed to reply before he retched again. He glanced at his hands noting with satisfaction that pustules were bursting through. “I’ve been feeling odd all day.” He clutched at his stomach, not acting the pain he was feeling. “I’m going to have to skip practise.”
Vaisey looked annoyed, and Scorpius noticed wryly as the rest of the team walked onto the pitch that none of them offered to walk him back to the castle.
As he staggered back to Hogwarts, Scorpius felt his stomach heaving again. He clutched at a tree and tried to breathe deeply.
“Oh, Merlin! I’m sorry,” breathed Lily. She was sitting on a tree stump eating yet another apple.
“Was this deliberate?” he said sourly.
“No, I promise,” she replied, her eyes widening in alarm. “Look, I sort of lied about the Weasley product. It’s so new that Uncle George hasn’t perfected it yet. It’s only supposed to cause a few pustules, nothing...” She trailed off, watching as he vomited again. “Er, shall I get you some water?”
Scorpius sank to the floor. “No, you’ve probably poisoned that, too.” He looked up irritably. “Go away, baby Potter.”
But she didn’t go away. Instead, Lily stayed with him. She wetted a cloth (he noticed it was a rather grubby handkerchief that she fished out of her pocket) and mopped his brow until the violent gripes in his stomach subsided. Then, she held out a silver flask to him. “Pumpkin juice?”
He nodded gratefully, and took a swig. As he drank, he caught sight of his reflection in the polished metal. His face was covered in pustules. “Gods, you didn’t lie about me looking repulsive,” he groaned.
Expecting her to laugh, he smiled and looked across at her. Lily wasn’t smiling back, but staring at him. He handed back the flask, and their fingers touched “ a moment longer than necessary. Then she snatched her hand away.
“I... I should go,” she muttered.
“Hot date in Hogsmeade?” he inquired, trying to keep a note of irritation out of his voice.
“No... nothing like that. It’s just ...” She stopped and sighed. “My brother...”
“Has told you to stay away from me,” he said resignedly, finishing her sentence.
Lily looked at him and smiled sadly. She nodded slightly, and then getting up, she walked away. “Sorry about the Pustule Pips,” she called back over her shoulder. “I really didn’t know they’d make you so ill.”
He lifted a hand acknowledging her apology and watched as she walked towards Hogsmeade. He watched until he could see her no more, but she didn’t turn back. He lifted his hand in front of his face; the pustules were fading now. He felt relieved, not just because he hated looking hideous, but because it meant she hadn’t lied to him.
He didn’t run into Lily Potter much over the next few weeks. In different Houses and different years, they did not move in the same circles. Sometimes, he caught her glancing across at the Slytherin table, and once he thought she’d smiled at him, so he’d grinned back. But it was so fleeting that he could have been mistaken. Ariadne had asked who he was smiling at; when he’d denied it, she’d started arguing with him at lunch time. Shortly after that day, Scorpius had ended their relationship. He convinced himself that it was because he was sick of her nit-picking jealousy, but deep inside he knew that Ariadne had every right not to trust him.
Christmas came, and he saw the Potters and Weasleys getting onto the Hogwarts Express, as was he, to spend the holiday at home. He wondered what they’d do if he asked to share their carriage. Albus, he knew, would say no; Rose would refuse to believe there was no ulterior motive (smart girl, she’d be right); Hugo would scowl and side with Albus; Fred and Roxanne would just hex him painfully ... but Lily. Would she say yes? Would she talk to him or sit opposite munching her way through a bag of apples and not saying a word?
He sat instead in a carriage with Flint, talking about Quidditch and ignoring Vaisey and Ariadne, who were snogging the life out of each other. About an hour before they arrived at King’s Cross, Scorpius saw someone walking past his carriage. Spying red hair (and praying it wasn’t her cousin, Hugo, who’d started growing his hair long) he mumbled something to Flint and dashed out in pursuit. Catching up with her, he faltered slightly, unsure what to say, and then touched her lightly on the elbow.
“Lily,” he began. “I ... uh ... wanted to ... uh ...” He stopped, hating the fact that he sounded like a bloody stupid third year.
“Wanted to what?” she asked, slightly breathily, not looking him in the eye.
A gaggle of excited Hufflepuff first years walked past, giggling at the pair of them. Scorpius scowled at them, but instead of running off, they giggled louder.
“Oh... nothing,” he muttered. “Just ... just have a good Christmas.”
The week before Christmas, Scorpius went with his father to Diagon Alley on the pretext of buying Astoria a Christmas present. After they’d picked up the new set of dress robes from Twilfit and Tattings, and Scorpius had chosen a specially created perfume from Amber Amour’s Apothacary, Draco steered his son towards Quality Quidditch Supplies. As he gazed in at the window, Scorpius tried to stop the now familiar tide of nausea waving through his body. His father stood by his side, reminiscing about his old Quidditch playing days.
“I had a Nimbus two-thousand-and one,” he declared. “In those days, my father made sure I had the very best, so I shall do the same for you. What do you say to that?”
Scorpius bit his lip. He knew he was supposed to say ‘Thank you’ and declare how great it would be to walk back into Hogwarts with a Firebolt X, but ...
“Dad, I’m happy with the broomstick I’ve got, and besides, I might not make the team now.”
“Nonsense!” Draco murmured. “You only lost your place because of injury.”
I‘ve lost my nerve, thought Scorpius moodily, remembering the fall and the sound of a girl screeching ‘No!’
“Come on,” urged Draco, “let’s see what they’ve got.”
Hearing the enthusiasm in his father’s voice, Scorpius trudged behind him. By the counter, examining brooms and chatting away to George Chegwin, the Master Broom-maker, stood Albus and Lily with their father.
Draco hesitated, and then inclined his head a touch. Scorpius saw Harry nod back and then turn away. He knew his and Lily’s fathers tried to remain civilised towards each other in these enlightened days, but there were things in their past that could not be erased. They’d never be comfortable in each other’s presence.
Mr Potter looks as enthusiastic about brooms as Dad, he thought gloomily. Albus was glowering at him, so Scorpius turned away and studied broom-care kits. Lily, he noticed, had not looked at him at all.
When the Potters left the shop with two new brooms for Christmas, Draco stepped up to the counter. Scorpius gazed out of the window, unable to concentrate, hating the smell of Quaffle wax that was pervading his nostrils. “I need some air,” he called to his dad, and without waiting for an answer, he walked out of the shop.
Ducking into a side street, he slumped against a wall and took several deep breaths. He heard a munching before he saw her, but grinned to himself.
“Lily Potter, the apple queen,” he said, looking up at her. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you, actually,” she replied firmly, then smiled. “I never wished you a Merry Christmas.” She looked around the dingy side street. “I didn’t expect to see you out here. Why aren’t you in the shop choosing a new broom?”
He shrugged, preparing to feign nonchalance, to tell her that he was bored with Quidditch and didn’t want a broom. But something in her eyes quenched his lie. “I,” he muttered at last, “have lost my nerve. I’m too bloody scared to sit on a broom, let alone play Quidditch.”
There was a silence broken only by Lily throwing her apple core into a nearby bin. “Do you know when I first decided I wanted to be a Seeker, rather than a Chaser like my mum?”
“When you heard about your dad’s famous matches at school, I should think,” Scorpius replied, wondering where she was leading with this conversation, but knowing she was going somewhere.
“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “Mum is the success story in our family. Dad didn’t talk much about Quidditch apart from telling us about his first ever match when he nearly swallowed the Snitch “ gods, he can be so boring about thatd this.” She paused and turned her head on one side. “It was actually three years ago, when I was watching a match ... Ravenclaw against Slytherin.” She touched his arm. “You were brilliant that day, and I knew then that I didn’t want to play any other position. It was Seeker -- or nothing.”
She stepped closer to him, so he straightened up and looked down at her. “You will fly again, Scorpius. You’re too good not to,” she whispered fiercely.
Without thinking, he touched his lips to her cheek. It was soft, and he could still smell the apple she’d been eating. She caught her breath, and he knew then that he’d gone too far and she would pull away.
And then she tilted her face upwards and lifted one hand to his neck, entwining her fingers in his hair as she pulled him down towards her. His mouth found hers, and they kissed, tentatively at first, and then as his hands wrapped around her waist to draw her closer to him, it became more intense. Their lips parted; her tongue teased, as slowly, they explored the very intricacies of each other’s mouths. Pictures swirled in his mind of the pair of them, together, flying high, and he knew she was right.
He would fly again; he would fly with her.
Lily pulled back. “Wow!” she breathed.
“Wow back!” he murmured and then reached for her again, cupping her flushed face in his hands. “Didn’t your brother tell you to stay away from me?”
A delicious smile spread across her face as she stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I don’t always do what my brother tells me.”