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Scorpius is glad for the interlude he shared with Albus a couple of weeks ago because there's been nothing but work since.

A lot of work.

It seems the professors had thought their seventh year students comfortably resettled into Hogwarts life and preparations for NEWTs could truly commence.

(Mind the work has kept students from gossiping too much and the boys have been able to stop what worrying they'd been doing, but awful can not begin to describe how bad it's been otherwise.)

Maybe there are some students who live for such times, but Scorpius is certainly not one of them. He's had enough.

And having had enough means seeking out Milliways.

It takes a few wrong turns into empty, unused broom closets - the usual door having not worked - but Scorpius eventually finds his way.

He stumbles in, looking every bit the strung-out, sleep-deprived student that he is.

An ecstatic "Hah!" escapes him before he's throwing himself on one of the couches and hugging a cushion.

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"Nearly three weeks on my end."

Which is nearly a lifetime! Or thereabouts.

"It was around Valentine's in the bar.

"How're you?"

"Not too bad, busy but that's always true. School keepin' you busy?" He looks tired.

Overtly dramatic as it might sound -

"It's been awful. A lot of essays and projects assigned.

"I don't think the professors will give us much of a break until the hols."

"Oh, are you working on anything interesting?"

"At this point, I haven't a clue what I'm working on."

He snuggles his cushion somewhat.

"School's boring to talk about, anyway. What've you been up to?"

William shrugs, he doesn't think its boring,

"Just the usual, we've been having some flash floods and I've had to work to keep things from gettin' too much worse."

"Coming here for a break, then?"

"Yeah and to use the punching bag as I can't hit everyone I want to."

"Who do you want to hit?" Scorpius asks, eyes widening as he sits up.

"All the men in town who treat me as if I can't take care of what I need to even though I've been doing just that since Pa died."

"Oh."

That would be rather frustrating, Scorpius think.

"Do they think you're too young to?"

"Yeah, I mean yes, I don't get it right but they look at me as if they're just waiting to see when I'll break. They don't do anything just watch and wait."

"I think - I think I know what you mean."

There are some who wish the Malfoys ill, after all.

"They want you to fail. For whatever the reasons.

"Are you - Are you worried about them? Or just annoyed with them?"

"Both, I can't stop worrying about them even though I know we're safer than we were. It'd be nice to just be able to be, only worry about what needs to get done not what might happen. Hell, you want somethin' to drink?"

He didn't mean to add to more for Scorpius who looks tired.

Tired as he is, chatting with friends is nothing compared to writing essays and the like.

(Especially when the essay is for Arthimancy.)

"Oh, uhm - A butterbeer will do.

"And, maybe I could help you? Not with the hitting, but there's a joke-shop in Hogsmeade - part of Al's family owns it, actually - and, uhm - Maybe there's something there? You could slip those blokes a puking pastille, if you wanted.

"It'd do for a laugh, anyway."

And it sounds like William could use a few more laughs in his life.

William orders a hot chocolate for himself and a butterbeer for Scorpius,

"Yes, but it also could turn out bad. It'd be easier if I was still at school then I could do stuff without as much trouble."

"It could.

"If they'd figured out it was you, anyway."

And, with the mention of school again, Scorpius merely flops over, tiredly.

He's so not a fan of it right now.

"Yes, so when did you last sleep?"

"I got a couple of hours last night," Scorpius says, shrugging his shoulders.

As best one can when flopped over on a couch, that is.

"It isn't so much a lack of sleep as a lack of anything else, really."

"Oh, you want to do somethin' else then? I mean I can't fly but the weather's not too bad here."

"Maybe in a few. We could toss around a Quod."

After a quick pick-me-up. Like the butterbeer the waitrat brings around just then, along with William's hot chocolate.

"The one that explodes? I think - Yeah, I've told you about that one. I think."

"You did, it sounded fun."

"Yeah, we'll do that then.

"Er. If you want, I mean."

"Well, you're the one that looks like you ain't slept in days. If you want to do it then yeah."

The thought of grabbing a room and sleeping is appealing. He could certainly benefit from a few hours, anyway.

But, the outdoors is calling now and -

" - I'll sleep later."

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not_his_pa - 2013-04-02 01:31 (UTC) - Expand

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