Scorpius Malfoy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alsoagreengrass) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
milliways_bar2013-03-23 12:54 am
alsoagreengrass) wrote in milliways_bar2013-03-23 12:54 am
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(no subject)
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.
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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She tips her head forward, trying to angle a better look at his face. Boy's gotta come up for air sometime, right?
"Call it the ol' teacher in me. You all right?"
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"'M alive," he mumbles.
Along with something about teachers being cruel.
Teasingly, of course.
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"Perhaps I'll hafta don a black cape when I'm feelin' particularly devilish," she winks. "What's goin' on?"
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"Too much schooling, is all.
"I haven't had much of a break in weeks.
"And you can have my robes, if you want," he adds without much of a pause.
For her cape-thingy, that is.
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She wouldn't mind his broom, though. That flight will forever be one of the most exhilarating experiences of her life.
Her expression softens.
"Have they filled your head with so much knowledge it's about t'split?"
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Except he's not and he's being far too dramatic to be taken seriously.
"They've more than about split my head, they've already split it."
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Shocked. Aghast. Stupefied. Flabbergasted.
(Appropriately dramatic.)
"That's the kinda thing I'd think I would'a noticed. Must jus' be a tiny crack hidden under that mop'a yours. Or maybe you've taken your dues from that game y'like t'play so often that it was already startin' t'split all sneaky-like."
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"And I think it kept my head from splitting all these years, actually."
But now that he's no longer on the team ...
He frowns, taken away from the conversation for a half a moment, before he's huffing and dragging a hand through his mop-like hair.
"Anyway. Maybe you can't see it, but the crack is definitely there."
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Her mouth twitches into something akin to a smile.
"I'm sorry, sugar. Would y'like some tea, an' a friendly ear t'talk to?"
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Because disembodied ears creep him out, much like staring at skulls in tombs do.
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She winks, and tugs on her earlobe.
"Person included. Y'got a preference on tea?"