(no subject)

[alsoagreengrass]

Scorpius is sitting at the counter, an empty plate to the side of him - a fish and chips dinner, finished to the last chip - and two huge slices of cake in front of him.

He'd fallen asleep and missed dinner.

He also missed tryouts and lost his position on the Quidditch team to some fifth year.




But it's fine!

He's fine!

(As he stuffs his face with more cake.)

Comments

[parkerlee]

Parker appears, dropping a clipboard on the bar and hitching herself up onto a neighboring stool.

"Good Lord. Are you hitting a growth spurt, or experiencing intense emotional distress?"

Either way, it's really not fair how much a teenage boy can pack away and stay skinny.

[alsoagreengrass]

Scorpius swallows a huge bite before answering.

"Uhm. Emotional distress? I guess.

"I - I didn't make the team this year."

He stabs another chunk off the piece of cake.

(Definitely emotional distress.)

[parkerlee]

Parker winces. She'd been halfway kidding on that point.

"Oh, honey. I'm sorry."

She knows the sport is a pretty big deal.

"Stiff competition?"

[alsoagreengrass]

"I fell asleep," Scorpius mutters.

Just before shoveling another two forkfuls into his mouth.

[parkerlee]

Parker looks like she's processing this.

"Not.....during the tryouts, I hope?"

Just given that there's flying involved.

On the other hand, if he did fall asleep during the tryouts, maybe they'd take 'underlying medical condition' into consideration.

[alsoagreengrass]

Scorpius frowns, swallowing down the mouthful.

"I'd be a bit more broken if it was during."

Physically, anyway.

"No, it was, uhm - Before? I was tired. Knackered. And I wouldn't be very good at playing tired, right? So, I - But I - It was - I missed my chance."

[parkerlee]

There are a lot of things that could be said in this situation.

Parker's parents would probably say something about actions and consequences, and What have you learned from this mistake? Not to be mean, but they rarely met a situation that couldn't be turned into a Teaching Moment.

Parker doesn't especially think this approach will be helpful. Clearly, Scorpius knows he messed up. Rubbing his nose in it would just be insult to injury.

Others might deride the team for not being understanding. Or attempt to cheer him up a la Who needs them anyway?

Again, Parker doesn't think there's much help to be had there.

So, she says the safest thing she can think of in the moment.

"Can I get you a glass of milk to wash that down with?"

Honestly, she's just glad that it's cake he's binging on, and not something stronger. The worst he's likely to wind up with is an upset stomach.

[alsoagreengrass]

Sounding much younger than he is - like a kid curled on the bed, with the blankets pulled to his nose and the softest of cuddly toys at his side -

"Okay. I guess. Sure," he says, shrugging.

[parkerlee]

Parker half smiles, and a second or two later, she's pushing a tall, icy glass over to him.

She has one for herself, too.

(Hey, it does a body good. All the ads say so.)

"Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather hear horror stories from the new-living-space hunt that my friend Aurelia and I have been on?"

She's good either way. Parker will let him lead on the topic.

Sometimes talking helps. Other times, distraction is better.

[gorgonfondness]

At least cake makes things better. Cake totally makes things better.

Carpets make things better, too. Flying carpets. Like the one Mia's hovering about on in lieu of walking.

(Her ankles are swollen. Shut up.)

"Silver piece for your thoughts, Scorpius?" she asks, floating nearby.

[alsoagreengrass]

"Hullo, Mia."

His greeting is a bit gloomy. Even in the face of flying carpets. (Of which Scorpius will one day own. He's just got to skip off to wizarding Mongolia first...)

He doesn't bother with a remark, just -

"I'm off the Quidditch team," he says, poking at his cake slice with the prongs of his fork. "I was so tired and I took a nap and I didn't wake up in time for the tryouts and now I'm off the team."

He takes a huge chunk out of the cake and stuffs it in his mouth.

[gorgonfondness]

(Or if his not-parents get him one. Vane's pretty good with magic carpets, it seems.)

Mia looks fairly crushed on his behalf. Draco had made it pretty clear to her how much Quidditch means to the family.

"Oh Scorpius, I'm sorry," she nigh-involuntarily says.

Countless thoughts run through her mind, vying to spill out of her mouth.

She eventually settles on, "Is there a way for you to play outside of school? Any sort of casual Quidditch league?"

She knows it wouldn't be the same but she just knows Malfoys belong up in the air, out on the Quidditch pitch.

[alsoagreengrass]

"I don't know."

Maybe?

"There might be some students who do a pick-up game on the weekends."

When the real games aren't happening, anyway.

Scorpius shakes his head.

"It won't be the same, though."

[gorgonfondness]

She nods in glum agreement.

"But it might be better than nothing," she suggests.

That's all up to him.

Mia briefly adjusts herself a little on the carpet, her legs to her side and one arm resting over her bulging belly.

"That's probably the best I've got. I'm sorry it's not much."

But it's probably better than wallowing in all of the what ifs and could've should'ves.

[alsoagreengrass]

But wallowing comes with delicious cake?

"Right," he murmurs. "Better than nothing."

He pushes a piece of cake around his plate some.

"I - I've been working on a broom? I mean, I suppose I'd have a bit more time to devote to it. Or my studies."

And Albus.

He sighs. "It just - "

Sucks. A lot.

[gorgonfondness]

"You've been working on a broom?"

Mia's all ears on this.

Though she does eye him with a corner of her lip twitched up. Sure. Studies.

"I know it does. And there's no reason why you can't take some time to be hurt about it."

Thus the wallowing with delicious cake.

"I just don't want you staying hurt too long. Something good will come sooner or later. It always does."

[alsoagreengrass]

"I won't be hurt over it forever."

Maybe just until after the first Quidditch match of the year.

Because it'll be downright painful to sit in the stands for Ravenclaw's first game.

"And, er - Yes. I've been working on a broom. Sort of."

He's stuck on the carving bit. He doesn't want to ruin it!

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus does his best to look completely innocent as he steals a bite of cake.

[alsoagreengrass]

For the briefest of moments Scorpius looks like he might stab Orpheus in the hand with the fork.

It passes quickly.

He pulls his plate closer and just points at Bar.

(GET YOUR OWN, ORPHEUS.)

[golden_lyre]

But Scorpius' cake tastes so much better!

Orpheus grins at him.

Then he looks a little closer. "Rough day?"

[alsoagreengrass]

Rough? Well.

It'd been going rather well around two or so in the morning. And then, later -

Not so well.


Scorpius sighs and - swallowing down his bite of cakes - says,

"I overslept and missed tryouts for Quidditch, so now I'm off the team."

[golden_lyre]

"Ouch," Orpheus says with a sympathetic smile. "Can't you make it up sometime?"

[alsoagreengrass]

Scorpius wrinkles his nose.

"Not really. My spot's already gone to a Fifth Year."

Something would have to happen to the kid.

(And Scorpius would never think of such things. Nope.)

[golden_lyre]

(Orpheus would, but he won't mention it.)

"I'm sorry," he says sincerely. He may know pretty much nothing about sports in general or Quidditch specifically, but he still can tell it's important to Scorpius.

[alsoagreengrass]

Since he's so sincere about it, Scorpius offers him a (tiny) corner of the cake.

(He'll have to take the time to explain Quidditch to Orpheus one day.)

"How have you been?"