ravens-malfoy

[ravens-malfoy]

raphaelselwyn​: 

“It, well, can be interesting,” Raphael eventually said. It seemed like the safest choice to agree, even if he was often of the opinion that it was far more of a headache than it was mental stimulation. But if he was going to air that to anyone at all, it certainly wasn’t going to be the youngest Malfoy. Raphael had been raised with more sense than that.

“Oh, that sounds cool.” Raphael shifted his hands in his pockets and looked around as they walked. Best not to be too lax this time of year. “Have you figured out your specialty yet, or is that a final year thing?” He supposed have a set training program like that would be beneficial, especially in as high intensity a job as healing. “It must be interesting, especially in the early years where you’re just learning what information is even available to learn.”

.

‘Oh, that sounds cool.’ There’s something awkward about the sound of it, in the man’s mouth. Just the way it staggers off his tongue, like it never really belonged there in the first place. Artificial, Scorpius supposes, but he also supposes maybe he’s not being fair. That there’s an uncomfortable air between them isn’t really Selwyn’s fault. At least, not in any way that Scorpius can think to explicitly blame on the man. They just... don’t know each other, and from he can tell so far, they’re just... very different. And Raphael—whether he’s good at it or not—is putting effort into small talk. Possible more effort that Scorpius. And Scorpius is just... quite bad at small talk.

He clears his throat a little, to try to rattle away some of his discomfort (but Merlin, he’d like to know where this discomfort is really coming from—why he keeps getting the distinct impression that he’s forgetting something about Raphael, that there’s a reason he should be this nervous around him, but he just can’t... put his finger on it). The question, however, is at least a decent distraction as he considers his answer. 

“Umm... I haven’t really decided yet, no. I’m considering surgical, sort of. But I’ve also been thinking about Pediatrics, lately? Which can be a super depressing route, but also a really rewarding one.” 

He shakes his head, sensing a ramble approaching, and not wanting to give into it. Partially because he doesn’t want to monopolize the conversation, and partially because he’s not comfortable opening up that much to a near-stranger.

The wind picks up, and Scorpius pulls his jacket tighter around himself, tucking his chin into the collar to try to keep in some of the warmth. 

#gah i hope you have enough to work with here?? lemme know if you need me to change or add anything! #also sorry this is nine million years late #raphael #raphael: flooless

[ravens-malfoy]

teddyalupin​:

“That doesn’t shock me he’s said that,” Teddy replied with a wry smile. Albus definitely had a way with words, and Teddy wasn’t surprised he turned his wit on himself sometimes just to keep things interesting.

“Well, we can always stop by, maybe check with Hermione’s secretary to see if he stopped to talk to her. If he didn’t, maybe we check the archive rooms? I know you’re not technically supposed to be back there and I’m iffy at best on permission, but I doubt anyone would stop us.” They didn’t mention that it was probably best to the see the secretary and not the Minister herself with her daughter’s ex in to. Instead Teddy shrugged, then took a deep breath. “Here we go.” 

Teddy imagined the Ministry lobby since they were bringing a guest, but as soon as they’d both landed, they started walking, a hand still on Scorpius without even thinking about it. “Don’t mention it. I’m here, whatever you guys need.”

His parents live so far out of town. “The Manor Life,” as they’d so coined it when Scorpius was younger and he’d never let them live it down, was a beast intentionally apart from the bustle and hubbub of town.  Purebloods were private by nature, Scorpius found, the Malfoys especially, and though he knows his grandfather related that to ‘dignity’ and ‘class’, Scorpius just sort of thought it was a bit pretentious. Not that he ever said as much, obviously. He had no interested in poking that sleeping dragon. 

But his point was, living near St. Mungo’s away from his family and where he grew up, he often felt alone—or at least, he would, were it not for Albus, and Saoirse and for people like Teddy. Not to say he saw Teddy as a guardian exactly, it wasn’t like that. It was just nice to have someone with... parental instincts, keeping an eye out for both Albus and Scorpius. Sort of like a sibling, Scorpius supposed. Maybe to Albus, it wasn’t the same, but Albus had brothers and sisters. Scorpius was an only child—so the ‘older sibling’ vibe was definitely something he appreciated. Scorpius had been raised rather self-sufficient... but that doesn’t mean he really considers himself independent as such. He counts on the people around him, possibly more than they know. 

The side-along apparition is quick and effective. Though it still makes Scorpius’ stomach do a bit of an uneasy flip, it’s over before he knows it and Teddy taking the lead as they walk helps. He glances around the lobby—it’s late, but quieter than he’d expect. Probably because most people are going home early these days, considering... all of it. Which, of course, is exactly what Al should have done, but probably didn’t. In fact, as soon as Scorpius knows Al is okay and he can stop worrying about him, he’ll probably take up being a little mad. 

At least... for a few minutes. He’s not good at staying mad at Albus. Like, at all. It’s that annoying, Potter charm. His father had called it that once, too.

“Yeah, Hermione... good idea,” he nods, speaking low, a little distracted. He feels like there’s eyes on him, which is always how he feels in the Ministry. Not that he’s here often but... maybe the fact that he’s always felt watched here, is part of it. Some people will never put the war behind them. 

“Though—do you think we should bother her? I don’t want to... y’know. Stir up alarm just to find out that Al’s just milling about somewhere. Or get him in trouble.” 

All the while, however, all Scorpius can think is—what if Al isn’t here? What if he’s not here at all and he’s actually in trouble, and they’re both just wasting time looking around his work? But really... where else would they start, otherwise? It’s the only logical approach, Scorpius knows that. And yet, he worries. 

#sorry this is so long #i just had some head canons and ran with them #teddy #teddy: anniversary skulk

[ravens-malfoy]

saoirsesays​:

ravens-malfoy​:

At first, he doesn’t get it. She met Selwyn. That editor bloke. Yeah, Scorp met him recently too, he thinks about saying. He’s got a… vibe, he also thinks about saying, though it’d be a pretty lame way to try to be a bit more charitable than Saoirse generally is about people who irritate her. 

But then she says ‘her’ like that and there’s this look in her eye and he’s seen it before and it all just… clicks into place. 

Oh no. Oh no no no no. 

Now it’s his turn to wince, and he also briefly covers his face with his hand. Oh, he’s a right idiot, isn’t he? He’d not even…. he’d totally forgotten that Raphael was the Raphael. The one who’s currently engaged to Saoirse’s ex-fiance. Oh, boy. 

“Oh shite, I—forgot. Not about Matilda or anything just… I forgot it was him. I only met him recently too, I didn’t… make the connection at the time, actually. I guess I wasn’t really thinking about it. Anyway—” Yeah, shut up, Malfoy. She already might kill you for not killing him or ‘sticking it to him’ when they met last week. Or for the fact that you basically walked home with him. Well.. sort of. Not really, actually, but close enough. Bad enough, maybe. Bollocks.

Well, it’s not like he made best-mates with the bloke or anything. He hadn’t even been particularly comfortable so… yeah, this isn’t about him. She won’t be angry with him. 

He’s still desperately trying to follow her story—that has a decidedly rage-fuelled vibe to it right now, so it’s a bit… sporadic. He frowns, trying to connect all the dots. “Wait, I’m sorry—he asked to meet you? Or Matilda asked for you two to meet? Or? Also, she showed up at St. Mungos? Like, as a patient, or to talk to you?” Oh, Merlin, he has so many questions. 

She offers him a seat, and her words are comforting, in a sweet way that’s a little out of her character, but he appreciates the gesture. It’s a little glimpse of this other side of her he knows well—but honestly, he’s too distracted by this whole mess of a story to be too fussed about himself. He takes a seat on her sofa, still frowning. 

“Did you… did you yell at him or something? Not that I’d blame you, I’m just trying to… figure all this out.” 

.

Saoirse hears only what she wants to. That of course Scorpius didn’t twig, not because he’s stupid–which she knows he isn’t–but because Selwyn is the living equivalent of a metronome. Hypnotically boring. Part of her wants to pick Scorp’s brain for validation but that wouldn’t help either. He’s got his own problems. It just would’ve been nice if he’d dropped an insult to spare her feelings. 

“Oh, catch up.” Saoirse scowls. They’re never getting anywhere at this rate. She tries to rein it in. “I told Selwyn to meet me. Mat–” She clears her throat. “Matilda was at St. Mungo’s. Visiting somebody.” Leaving out the part about Juniper. It doesn’t feel right gossiping about the old woman. Patient confidentiality and all that. 

She can’t keep still. Has to find some way to occupy her jittering fingers before she throws a tantrum. Saoirse does a good job of turning something as simple as making coffee into an all out war. Slams mugs too hard onto the counter, sends a shower of Nescafe across the floorboards. 

She clenches her jaw. Thinks about spinning some lie where she humiliates Roald and gets some sort of payback, but she can’t. There’s the Hufflepuff–honest where it counts, even if she does make herself look a bit of a twat. 

“With Selwyn it– well, it didn’t quite go to plan. More like… bickering. Like we’re fucking twelve.” 

Matilda was at St. Mungo’s. Naturally, the first thing he thinks is why? Because when someone says someone else was at the hospital, generally the first instinct is what happened? But Saoirse clarifies, to Scorpius’ relief, and then he can move on to his next round of brain gymnastics—at least this one is slightly more on topic, so there’s that. But he’s still... confused, as to just what they’re talking about, and being confused when Saoirse is upset is a very dangerous game. Because if he’s confused, that means he’s not keeping up, and if he’s not keeping up, that means she’s going to have to repeat herself or explain herself more than she’s currently explaining herself and.... well she just looks so mad.  

He knows it’s not at him; he knows that. She’d not have asked him here if it was like that. But he desperately wants to not make things worse right now, and he has a sneaking suspicion that the slightly hazy look in his eyes and his dumbly bewildered blinking is... not helping. 

Pull it together, Malfoy. 

It strikes him that this particular voice in his head sounds a lot like his mother when she’s talking to his father. And then... he briefly wonders if he and Saorise are a little like them in some ways. It’s such a weird thought, but maybe it serves as proof that Astoria and Draco always should have stayed friends. Not that he has any business regretting it, considering like... the fact that they didn’t is the reason he was born, but... whatever. 

Oh yeah, focus. Saorise is still doing the angry eyebrow thing. 

“You—you told him to meet you, why? For what?” He realizes he’s maybe focusing on the wrong part of the story, and missing the point entirely, but he can’t help but need the context. He’s a Ravenclaw. Information is nothing without context. 

“So Matilda was... at the hospital visiting someone and you asked Selwyn to meet you...” Was she looking for a fight? He’s repeating things back to try to make sense of it. “I’m still confused about the why, but, alright. So you bickered. That—that sucks, I’m sorry. Which sounds placating, but it’s not, I mean it genuinely. Trust me, I get the awkward ex thing better than anyone right now. And Selwyn does have a... vibe,” he finally says out loud. “I mean, he did when we met. He seemed tense. Do you think he’s... bitter or something? I mean, he shouldn’t be, he’s not the ex in this situation. If anyone has a right to be bitter, it’s you.”

This is probably really not helping. In fact, the more he says, the more certain he feels his work-wife is going to throw a shoe at him. But he’s trying. And she already knows him well enough to know he’s not very good at this. But Merlin if he doesn’t try. 

#soairse: brainwashed owls #soairse #I JUST NOTICED I'VE TAGGED ALL OUR THREADS WITH HER NAME SPELLED INCORRECTLY ALDJFALDJF #now i gotta go back and fix em all lajfdladjf lol WELP OTL #keeping my last reply too bc my reply is late and i have a weird ocd tic about these things

[ravens-malfoy]

Routine, or Lack Thereof

dierdra-jones​:

The idea of quitting Quidditch had never been an idea that had ever been concrete, because it usually followed up with the question of what Dierdra would do next. The friends of hers who have retired had very successful social media presences, but her entire image was crafted around the idea that she would be doing Quidditch forever. There wasn’t anything next. Not that she could think of. 

“You know, no one’s ever asked me that question.” Because frankly, she wasn’t the only person who also thought the same—that Dierdra still had a decade left with flying. She had always been able to bounce back from her injuries and took care of herself better than some of the other seekers in the league. 

Her mouth puckered a little, biting into her cone as an excuse to pause and think of an answer, even if the answer should have been obvious. She hadn’t been quick to clarify, and she tried to convince herself of the answer when she said it out loud. “No, I don’t think I’ll be leaving it behind. Not soon. What I’ve got… is good.”

Good was an incredibly terrible understatement, but it wasn’t wrong. She was really doing well for herself.

All of a sudden he hopes he hadn’t worded it poorly. Because, Merlin, the last thing he would want is to give her the impression that she should quit soon or that he thinks, for any reason at all, that she’s already a tired name in the industry. Because sure he’s no expert or whatever, but as an active and avid fan, he can confidently say she isn’t. She’s excellent and highly admired, by more than just him, he’s positive about it. 

He has to admit, he’s definitely relieved to hear her say no, that she wasn’t planning on leaving soon, because the longer she’d gone without replying, the more nervous he’d become. But, that said... her answer doesn’t sound especially convincing, and he has to wonder a little why that is. 

“Oh, good. I mean—good, because you’re really talented and you’re young, I feel like you have a lot of great career ahead of you. But I also didn’t... want to be one of those blokes who just tells you what you should and shouldn’t do because of my opinions as a Quidditch fan, basically. [He shrugs.]

You don’t owe the world anything, so if you aren’t happy then you should be able to make a change so that you are. I know there’s probably a lot of pressure on Quidditch players with that sort of stuff. I can’t really... imagine what that would feel like. Having all those people—people who don’t even really know you—with all those expectations from you and your life and stuff. 

#Dierdra #dierdra: nostalgia

[ravens-malfoy]

matilda-nott​:

Date: 15th November Location: Nott Household @ravens-malfoy​

It was her father’s birthday. What was supposed to have been a small family gathering had turned into a bit of a party. The house had been decorated, caterers hirer and even a bartender asked to mix them all specialist drinks for the evening. Only family was there but both her mother and father’s extended family seemed to sprawl out, all of them keeping in touch, if only to brag about their child’s success.

At these sort of events she stuck to Scorpius like glue. She hated having to introduce herself to third cousins she didn’t know and laugh at jokes she didn’t understand. Better to keep him close so she didn’t have to interact with anyone else. 

“Guess it’s you and me again. How’re you doing?”

.

Despite his father’s pungent dislike for Theodore Nott, growing up, Scorpius had been to the Nott household more times than he could count. Juniper, Matilda’s mum, was Astoria’s cousin, and while his parents were still married, Astoria pretty much always got her way. 

When Scorpius was young, he actually used to think (and Draco used to tell him) that this was because Draco loved Astoria too much to ever do anything less than what she wanted. As he got older, however, he started to understand that it had actually been less about love, and more about resignation. Draco had been too tired to argue with her, especially near the end. He just couldn’t be bothered. And in fact, he’d told Scorpius that one time, too. In a fit of exhaustion and about three glasses of whiskey deep, mind you. And of course, he’d come to regret that by morning—another thing he’d told Scorpius when he’d apologized the next day. But by then the glass had already been shattered: And to be honest, intoxicated confession or no, at that point Scorpius was well beyond thinking his parents had a perfect happy marriage, anyway. 

In fact, all that said, he’s shocked his father is even here tonight. Truthfully, even though Scorpius isn’t much for parties (especially parties that consist of mostly extended family he doesn’t talk to or even know very well), he’s glad to be here as it means spending a bit more time with his mother, who he doesn’t see much, anymore. And that Draco is here, too, well, that’s even better. Scorpius definitely tends to see his father more than his mother, but with his schedule, he sees them both a lot less than he’d like. 

All he can hope for from tonight, however, is that Theo and Draco manage to remain civil the duration of the party, and that no one brings up politics. Or the war. Or technology. Or anything remotely related to muggles, actually. 

Oof, this is going to be interesting. 

When the ‘grown ups’ that had been hovering over him wander away and Scorpius is left in just the company of Matilda again, he’s both relieved and nervous. He’d grown up around Matilda, but that had been before he’d met Saorise or even known who she was. And since getting so close to her, he’d really not seen Matilda much. He’d been to fewer and fewer family and/or Nott household events in the past couple of years, and he can’t remember the last time he and his parents all went to dinner at the Notts’ place, like they used to. 

So he’d been fortunate enough to not have to worry too much about any awkwardness that might arise. That is, of course, until now. 

Still, he does his best to put it from his mind as he smiles at her, blowing out a sigh of relief to be released from the inane and obligatory ‘chit chat’ about his healing apprenticeship and his love life (or lack there of) with his... second aunt twice removed (??), whose name he can’t for the life of him remember. 

“I’ve been... good, I guess! Yeah, no complaints, really.” Merlin, he sounds like such a bore. Should he come up with some complaints just to sound even the slightest bit more interesting? “What about you? I feel like it’s actually been forever since I’ve seen you.” 

Don’t think about the Saorise thing, don’t think about the Saorise thing. 

#IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG #i was laying in some HC groundwork :D #pls no need to match #matilda #matilda: pureblood probability

[ravens-malfoy]

nikhailollivander​:

ravens-malfoy​:

The man fusses and dotes on Scorpius, his thick brows turned down, wrought with a concern so earnest, it’s sort of endearing. Tea? It makes Scorpius crack a small grin. Sure, tea is nice and all that, but he’s noticed that some people in this bloody country have a habit of offering it at the strangest of times. As if it were a potion, a cure to just about anything—heart broken? Twisted ankle? Fired from your job? No problem, no problem—sit and have a cuppa. Maybe a biscuit. Then everything will surely sort itself out. 

Though, to be fair…. that does sound sort of nice, at the moment. So he’s a wild hypocrite, maybe. 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, no—I’m fine, really. I am. I’m just… out later than I anticipated and, uh. Well, my worrisome mother’s paranoia rubs off on me from time to time. Totally against my will, might I add.” 

He grins at Ollivander—glances left at the sound of footsteps and a bang as someone comes out the door of a nearby shop and locks it behind them. Scorpius clears his throat. “Well—I mean, I suppose a cup of tea couldn’t hurt, if you’re offering. I should really get home soon but maybe I can send off an owl to Al or something… ”  

Or to mother, he thinks, though he wonders right away if that would just make things worse.  And there’s also currently Albus’ familiar voice chanting in his ears: Owl? if you used that mobile I so generously gifted you out of the goodness of my heart, as your best friend in the whole world—then you would have gotten a message to me already. Thrice. 

“Maybe I should suck it up and just apparate, anyway,” he mutters, mostly to himself. And maybe a bit in part to quiet the ghostly echo of his best mate’s voice in his head. Yeah, they probably do spend too much time together.  “Sorry—it’s… Nik, isn’t it? Nicholas?” He thinks he’s remembering right, but as it comes out his mouth, it feels wrong. Bugger. 

___

Nik smiled as he listened to the younger man chatter on. He remembered the times in his life when he had been that nervous. That on edge. Or at least that was how he perceived that the other must be feeling. He had been told often to try to hide such tendencies. His grandparents on his mother’s side had never liked that part of him and when he spent the summers in India with them they often tried to work them out of him. He didn’t enjoy his time with them growing up but he appreciated the lessons now. He was able to be around a group of people without feeling the need to fall apart now at least. 

He turned to go back towards his shop fully expecting Scorpius to follow him. “Close but my name is Nikhail. My mother always insisted on naming her children after our Indian heritage. My grandparents were the ones who truly insisted on it really but my mother went with it all the same. My sister always hated her name in school. She wanted to be called Elizabeth. Amara was such a beautiful name though.” He mused the last part mostly to himself. His sister had been a bright and shining light. Always so full of life and wonder. He wondered if he had been more supportive if she would still be in his life today. 

His mind often strayed to his younger sister. His niece grew to look like her more and more every day. The resemblance was shocking. Isabella had her fire too and he was determined that her spirit wouldn’t be crushed. His sister must have felt so trapped and alone to have run away from them instead of seeking their help when she became pregnant. He missed her terribly and the thought that he would never be able to make up with her was almost too much to for him. 

He was so lost in his thought that he almost walked right past his shop. He had lapsed into silence and wasn’t being a very good companion. He turned to open the door to his shop just before he had walked too far. “This is it. I have hot chocolate as well if you aren’t a fan of tea. I must confess that I’ve never liked it much but I was always being chastised for not having it when company came over that now I just always have it.” He moved further into the shop and up the stairs to his apartment waving his wand as he entered to start the tea kettle. “I hope you don’t mind cats. I have a couple. Or I suppose I have one and my niece has a little kitten.” As he spoke the two came into view weaving through Scorpius’ legs in greeting. 

.

Scorpius nods quietly as Nikhail talks about his family and his heritage. “Oh, yeah, Nikhail is way cooler anyway,” he says with a small smile and a shrug. “So is Amara. Elizabeth is so generic. Amara isn’t something you hear everyday. I like it, anyway.” 

Suddenly they turn into the doorway of the shop and the hinges creak just a little on the way in. A little bell rings. Inside smells vaguely of dust and woodwork. Maybe a bit of... lavender. Or something. Scorpius can’t put his finger on it, but either way, something about the mixture is relaxing, and his shoulders automatically lower a bit. Perhaps it’s also that it’s just a bit of a relief to be inside. Feels safer, now that it’s properly dark out in the Alley. 

At the comment about the tea, Scorpius chuckles a little. “Sorry, I—it’s just funny you mention that, because I was literally just thinking the same thing. Well, not that I don’t like it, but how it’s practically a religion in this country, and if you’re not all about it, people look at you like you’ve grown a third eye.” He grins, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers, trying his best not to feel too awkward. “But, um—honestly, tea sounds perfect right about now. Anything herbal, if you have it. If not, the coco would be brill. I just don’t think I need the caffeine right now.”

And he’d swear, that the mention of the cats was some sort of cosmic cue, because no sooner had he processed what Nikhail was saying, that something was rubbing up against his leg, and he almost—almost—gives a bit of a yelp. Fortunately, he manages to bite it back, but he does start just a touch in surprise. 

But that surprise quickly turns to delight—he loves cats. Especially kittens.

“Ohhhhhh Merlin help me,” he gushes, reaching down to pick up the teeny, mewling thing into his hands, careful and cautious not to let himself squeeze it too hard, though the temptation is there because c u t e. “Oh, she’s so cute, I could die.” He looks up at Nikhail again. “She? He?” They? he thinks to himself. Can cats be nonbinary? Probably not. Or maybe they can, what does he know. He bites back a chuckle. 

“I always wanted a cat growing up. I swear to Merlin, I used to beg my father, but he hated cats at the time. Well, actually he said he was allergic, but I think that was just code for ‘scared’. 

#nikhail #nikhail: high alert

[ravens-malfoy]

saoirsesays​:

As much as she wants to play offended at Scorpius’ non-answer, the point he’d made was too sound to argue. It’d been a while since they’d had a chance to properly talk and she’d not exactly been forthcoming about the details as they’d happened. Too much to consider and too many emotions to process for all that. Their hectic schedules don’t help, either. She groans and throws a hand over her face. 

“I met Selwyn.” She’s hissed it, sticking the name with a solid degree of hatred. “Asked to, don’t know why. Nosy, maybe? But at the time it seemed like a good idea, I was really going to stick it to him.” She huffs. “He’s as much of a prick as I thought he’d be, and that’s the really shit thing. There’s not a remotely interesting thing about him, y’know? Like talking to a wet mop-head. I was just trying to be a decent fucking person and return some of her stuff.”

She peeks out from between her fingers, squinting so as not to be able to see the whole picture. “And I swear he must have said something, because guess who shows up at work a week ago? It’s not like I could run off or pretend I didn’t see her. She looked like shit and I’m not that much of a bitch. Not usually, anyway. So I’m digging myself a hole and– you see where the owl comes in, right? Scare them out the country with my fine and feathered friends, never have to deal with either of them again.”

Saoirse pauses in her rant long enough to cut in with an apologetic smile and an uttered “Make yourself at home, sweet, it’s freezing out there.” 

.

At first, he doesn’t get it. She met Selwyn. That editor bloke. Yeah, Scorp met him recently too, he thinks about saying. He’s got a... vibe, he also thinks about saying, though it’d be a pretty lame way to try to be a bit more charitable than Saoirse generally is about people who irritate her. 

But then she says ‘her’ like that and there’s this look in her eye and he’s seen it before and it all just... clicks into place. 

Oh no. Oh no no no no. 

Now it’s his turn to wince, and he also briefly covers his face with his hand. Oh, he’s a right idiot, isn’t he? He’d not even.... he’d totally forgotten that Raphael was the Raphael. The one who’s currently engaged to Saoirse’s ex-fiance. Oh, boy. 

“Oh shite, I—forgot. Not about Matilda or anything just... I forgot it was him. I only met him recently too, I didn’t... make the connection at the time, actually. I guess I wasn’t really thinking about it. Anyway—” Yeah, shut up, Malfoy. She already might kill you for not killing him or ‘sticking it to him’ when they met last week. Or for the fact that you basically walked home with him. Well.. sort of. Not really, actually, but close enough. Bad enough, maybe. Bollocks.

Well, it’s not like he made best-mates with the bloke or anything. He hadn’t even been particularly comfortable so... yeah, this isn’t about him. She won’t be angry with him. 

He’s still desperately trying to follow her story—that has a decidedly rage-fuelled vibe to it right now, so it’s a bit... sporadic. He frowns, trying to connect all the dots. “Wait, I’m sorry—he asked to meet you? Or Matilda asked for you two to meet? Or? Also, she showed up at St. Mungos? Like, as a patient, or to talk to you?” Oh, Merlin, he has so many questions. 

She offers him a seat, and her words are comforting, in a sweet way that’s a little out of her character, but he appreciates the gesture. It’s a little glimpse of this other side of her he knows well—but honestly, he’s too distracted by this whole mess of a story to be too fussed about himself. He takes a seat on her sofa, still frowning. 

“Did you... did you yell at him or something? Not that I’d blame you, I’m just trying to... figure all this out.” 

#ignore the drink! #saorise #saorise: brainwashed owls

[ravens-malfoy]

Routine, or Lack Thereof

dierdra-jones​:

Dierdra raised a brow at his laugh–not really sure what was so funny about asking when he was going to finish his study. She just nodded at his explanation, because who didn’t know who Albus Potter was? The fact that he was Scorpius’s roommate was more of a surprise than the fact that a Potter would be trying to make phones a thing. 

She did find his amusement infectious, but she needed to be careful with her words–she wanted to warn him that eventually he’d be forced to carry one of these annoying buzzy rectangles around, but she didn’t want to dampen the mood either. 

“I don’t blame you–it’s just too much for me sometimes, especially since someone out there is going to get on me for not having posted enough pictures yet this week–but yeah, I’d prefer an owl, I’ll ask my assistant to look for it.” 

There was an enjoyment when she had those pictures, but she wasn’t going out of her way to try and be interesting–or more interesting than she should already be. Don’t let it catch on, she thought to herself; the smile on her face feeling a bit of relief with the kindred spirit she had found. Yes, she really did take a liking to Scorpius Malfoy. 

She pressed her lip into her ice cream again–or what was left of the cone, as if it were the only thing keeping her face in a neutral expression because of the wayward photographer, though she realized she didn’t care. What could they make of her being happy about something? 

“I’d be more than happy to look, but when it does work out–it’s going to be because you’ve made quite a convincing case.” Dierdra wasn’t sure what made her nervous about the inevitable. “I won’t be catching snitches forever, you know.”

Her smile is nice, because it looks relieved and relaxed, like she really understands, rather than just politely nodding along. Don’t get him wrong, he adores Albus and he doesn’t really mind his mate’s encouragement of wix-adapted muggle things... and really, the passion he has for it is exceedingly charming. But it is sort of a relief to talk to someone who understands his hesitation. The fact that that someone happens to be a famous Quidditch Player is... definitely a bonus. 

But something about the way she says ‘I won’t be catching snitches forever,’ gives him pause. It sounds... a little sad? Or maybe nervous? Or... he’s not sure, but it’s definitely more somber than what the conversation has been like up until this point, and he fixes her with a curious, concerned look.

“Oh—well, no, not forever but...” he tilts his head. “Are you worried about that? Or, I mean, do you think you’ll be leaving it behind you soon, or...?” 

#Dierdra #dierdra: nostalgia

[ravens-malfoy]

rockylittleone​:

“I mean, you can try the whole sceptic thing if it makes you feel better. Doubt anyone would believe it. You don’t sneer nearly enough for that. Face is too kind,” she says, a quick shake of her head. “Are you sure you weren’t adopted?” 

It would explain a lot. She wonders briefly if he’s aware he’s talking himself in circles. Probably not. Roxanne has the distinct impression that this sort of prone, wordy rambling is half the reason he gets on so well with Al in the first place. Add Rose to that and there’s no wonder she’s heard as many bizarre stories as she has. Apparently they had a tendency to make lasting impressions. 

“Please, please don’t duel Al.” Roxanne clasps her hands together in mock prayer. “Win or lose, not a one of us would ever hear the end of it.” That, and she’s not keen to find out precisely how many strange and unusual hexes either of them know. Not to mention the inevitable rematch that she’s not so sure her uncles would be mature enough to avoid inviting Scorpius’s father to. The grudge goes too far over her head to make a lick of sense, and for that reason she chooses to stay blissfully unaware as far as is humanly possible. 

Face is too kind. 

Oh, well that’s nice, isn’t it? That’s a good thing, yeah? Girls like kind boys, don’t they? Though as he thinks it, he realizes that’s a stupid, overly generic train of thought. But he’s going to take it at a compliment either way. 

He’s grateful for the quip about being adopted though, because it gives him a reason to laugh and to not have to figure out how to respond to the ‘kind face’ thing, other than blushing a little. In fact, it maybe distracts from the blushing, which would be a nice bonus. “I mean, I’m pretty positive, yeah. Dad and I have a lot of the same mannerisms. Though I guess that could be a learned thing, couldn’t it? People tell me I look exactly like a mix between my folks though so...” He shrugs, grinning. 

He laughs again at her theatrical pleading. “Ah, well—probably for the best, really. I’m rather shite at duels, to be honest with you. I became a healer for a reason. I like method and predictability and... and I realized I just made myself sound like such a bore, didn’t I?” He winces, chucking a little and flashing her an almost apologetic smile. 

#ignore the smoke pls! #Roxanne #roxanne: masquerade

[ravens-malfoy]

raphaelselwyn​:

Raphael chuckled dryly as he adjusted the collar of his cloak. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but with the extra chill in the air, he wanted to feel a bit more secure than the average everyday walk. “Typical? To some extent, it changes from day to day. But most of my job as editor is management: listening to and tweaking article pitches, making sure the final copy has everything it needs to, acting as go-between when people come in with comments.” Usually negative. “It’s a lot of double-checking and being aware of things. Thankfully as a section editor, I don’t have to necessarily write a lot myself, although I usually try to have at least something small once a week.” He’s always found the writing a little more interesting than the managing. 

Realizing he’d been rambling, Raphael cleared his throat. “Anyway, what about you? You’re in apprenticeship, right? I guess I don’t really know how St. Mungo’s works on the staff side.”

.

Ah, editor. That makes sense then. Truthfully, Scorpius hadn’t known Raphael’s position, but he hadn’t wanted to ask. Something about Raphael’s demeanour is intimidating... he sort of has a vibe that he is relatively high up in his field, and so Scorpius admitting to not knowing the nature of his importance felt... like the wrong thing to do. 

Then again, he could be entirely projecting. He'll be the first to admit that he’s a worrier like that. “Oh, makes sense. That’s sounds really interesting though. I think I’d enjoy that side of things, if I were, er, in journalism.” Sometimes, he really wishes he would just... say less things. Because he’d meant well, but somehow now he’s paranoid that was just a stupid thing to say. Oh well. Maybe Raphael won’t notice, or think so.

He clears his throat. “No worries, I don’t know much about your job either, so.” He grins, shrugs. “But yeah, I’m in my third. year. One year left. Basically we start as broad studies, then specialize more in our later years, and we often work under specific Healers above us. It’s... tiring work, but it’s rewarding.” 

#raphael #raphael: flooless

[ravens-malfoy]

teddyalupin​:

Teddy knew his joke hadn’t been a good one, but he hadn’t expected Scorpius to react so strongly. As well as he knew the two, Teddy didn’t figure Scorpius would lie to him about it, so there must be something else there. Interesting. Something to ponder later, he supposed. Now they had bigger priorities.

“Seems unlikely,” Teddy admitted, even as Scorpius seemed to be talking himself into it as a possibility. “Even if he was on a date or something, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have said he’d be home late, especially this time of year.

“Have you swung by his work yet?” Teddy asked. He reached for his jacket and slid it on. “We could start there, maybe hit any bars or cafes he likes to frequent.” Teddy fixed his collar and stepped toward Scorpius with his arm extended for the younger man to take. “How do you feel about side-along apparition.

.

‘Seems unlikely’ Teddy mutters, and Scorpius finds he agrees. Or he finds he really wants to agree, and finds solace in the act of agreeing. Yes, it is unlikely. Scorpius gives a tired, half-distracted scoff. “I mean, yeah—his work is his mistress.” He pauses, managing a grin, Teddy’s way. “His words, not mine.”

And he’s relieved for the moment of levity. It helps to clear his head and put things back in perspective. Albus is extremely self sufficient and intelligent. Scorpius is sure there’s nothing to worry about. But it’s just best to be safe, that’s all. He gives a subtle nod, as if agreeing with himself and his new found optimism. 

“I—I haven’t stopped in. I called one of his coworkers—” Yes called. Albus would be so bloody proud. “But she said he left the office hours ago. Maybe he... maybe he doubled back though and she didn’t know? Or he stopped in somewhere else on his way out. He is something of a workaholic so it... wouldn’t really surprise me.” And maybe it really is just that simple. Maybe he’s still at work and is just so caught up in whatever muggle contraption he’s studying that he’s not noticed the hour. It definitely wouldn’t the first time... 

“But yeah, all that sounds good. And side-along is good.” Better probably, he thinks to himself, because he doesn’t love it to begin with, and he fears he doesn’t have t he focus not to splinch himself, tonight. “And um—t-thanks, Teddy. For the help. I appreciate it.”

#teddy #teddy: anniversary skulk #sorry it's so late!

[ravens-malfoy]

saoirsesays​:

Location: Saoirse’s flat

Date: 29th October, 2027

Status: Closed

@ravens-malfoy​

As far as invitations go ‘I need to borrow your brain’ might not have been the most articulate. Then again, Saoirse wasn’t feeling particularly articulate. Whatever grey matter she had left after her clusterfuck of a fortnight was all soup and frustration. If anyone was going to be able to help find sense in the madness it’d be Scorpius. Failing that he could listen to her bitch and chime in with some passably witty commiserations. She wasn’t even sure which she’d prefer. 

Almost the second the door opened Saoirse abandoned her perch on the couch and crossed the room, hands linked together behind her back. “How much trouble d’you think I’d get in for sending a theoretically brainwashed owl to commit arson on my behalf?” She stopped, cleared her throat. “If I had a really, really good reason.”

.

Honestly, he has no idea what the strange owl had been about, but he’d gotten used to these kinds of requests from Saoirse over the years and he’d sort of just stopped questioning them. Apparently, this is just what their friendship had evolved into, and he’s pretty okay with it. It’s weird—they are weird—but it works. They work. They’re just their own... brand of relationship, really, and though he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to articulate it in any succinct or totally sensible way, it just is and it’s better not to get too caught up in the whys or hows or whats. 

Besides, Sersh is just very much her own brand of woman, and he definitely respects her for that. 

So the Owl had made him frown a bit—do another re-read, as though he might’ve missed something the first time (he hadn’t)—then huff something of a laugh under his breath. He’d not been too worried though, because if it’d been an emergency, he’s sure she’d have been a lot more explicit. Saoirse may be sarcastic and dry, but she’s also an incredibly efficient and practical witch. Not to mention, she’s just too smart to faff about when something is really serious. No, this had to be something else. Something personal, maybe. Or maybe even something work related. She had looked to him for help in the past with their studies—if only for someone to use as a sounding board, considering she’s actually ahead of him a few years and is generally, totally brilliant. 

Yeah, it’s probably just a work thing. 

So he’s cam when he lets himself into her place, not even bothering to knock. She knows he’s coming and, yeah, they’ve been here before. But she practically pounces when he crosses the threshold, and it becomes clear very quickly that this isn’t a thing about work—or at least, not about healing. This is a lot more personal. She looks angry. Ooh, and an angry Saoirse is both thrilling and vaguely terrifying. 

He swallows, feeling a bit dry in the throat, and tries to do the mental gymnastics required to catch up to her. He takes a breath. “Okay, I’m going to need you to be less vague and less weird. What are you talking about? Catch me up.” 

.

#'soup and frustration' aldfjadlfjadfl i missed her i love her #bah this is long but i love them im sorry but im also not sorry #saorise #saorise: brainwashed owls

[ravens-malfoy]

rockylittleone​:

As much as she really, really wanted to ask what ‘the worst’ was to satisfy a newfound curiosity, Roxanne swallows the question with a smile. She’s been pretty lucky so far not saying something unintentionally offensive. Or just plain ridiculous. Both are apt to happen the more she relaxed into the fact that she’s not not enjoying the flirting. It’s fun.

“They’ve only overtaken you because they’ve been inducted into the secret Weasley family charm school,” Roxanne says, huffing a laugh. “I’m sure if your dad is really upset about it he could buy you into a taster session. Wait.” She grins. “That’s way worse. You should probably just accept the awkward and beat Al at gobstones to restore your father’s honour.”

.

“Uh—” He lets out a soft laugh, trying to bite it back, without having much success. Careful, Scorp. There’s an opportunity to be cute and confident and funny here somewhere, but he can sense it’s dangerously close to the opportunity to be an offensive ass. “Well, I must be Malfoy enough, because my instinct at the Weasley’s being called charming was to pull a long-suffering expression of skepticism—which I promise you is entirely my parents’ fault. Especially Dad. I mean, I obviously disagree. I think the Weasleys are very charming. I dated one after all. And Rose was—is one of my best mates, so.” Or so he hopes. He corrects himself because he figures it’s best to put the positive vibes into the universe, than the negative, friendship-ending ones. 

He throws Roxanne another grin, to be sure he knows he’s just trying to be ‘charming’ himself. The last thing he’d want to do is insult her accidentally, especially if he’s trying to flirt—and is that what this is then? Is that what he’s doing? Would Albus be furious, considering... well... everything?—not that Scorpius would put it past himself to make that mistake. He doesn’t have the best track record with the not-putting-his-foot-in-his-mouth thing, after all. All the more reason to be mindful. 

He pulls a face at the taster suggestion, and huffs another laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, that definitely sounds worse. No, thank you. I’m not sure what my family thinks about gobstones but... I’ll keep it mind. Maybe I should just challenge Al to a duel. Both my parents would appreciate the tradition of that. And I’m pretty sure I could take that win no problem.” 

Is his default in flirting now just talking himself up over his best mate? Is he that bloke now? Great. Though he has a sneaking suspicion Albus would probably just laugh and pat him proudly on the back. 

#roxanne #roxanne: masquerade

[ravens-malfoy]

teddyalupin​:

ravens-malfoy​:

Scorpius has always been a bit more of a worrier than Albus. 

…Okay, a lot more of a worrier. But Albus could’ve probably stood to worry a little more, really. He was passionate and impulsive and determined, and those were all things Scorpius admired in him, but would it have hurt Albus to just, you know, be a mite more mindful about his general well-being? No, it would not. And would it have made Scorpius a lot more comfortable if Al made more common use of reason and critical thinking? Yes. 

He’d made the mistake of mentioning this to his father, once, and Draco had just given him a withering look and scoffed. ‘He’s a Potter’, he’d drawled, before turning back to the neat copy of the daily proper he’d been reading. ‘That should’ve been your first tip. You’re a Ravenclaw, Scorpius. Don’t tell me you didn’t know exactly what you were getting into.’ 

Granted, he does have a habit of worrying more than he should, but given the time of year, and the circumstances, he feels it’s alright to worry, right? In fact, isn’t it… more responsible of him to worry about the fact that Albus went out late afternoon, swore he’d be back in time for super, but now it’s approaching 8pm, their take-out Chinese is getting cold, and he’s still not home? Isn’t worrying just the responsible thing to do? Because if Scorpius didn’t show concern, and if he didn’t do what he could to track Al down, what if something was wrong, or something had happened to him? Wouldn’t that be much, much worse? 

Yes. Yes it would. So he’s simply being a responsible, reliable mate (not a worry wart), when he shows up in Teddy’s floo unannounced—which is decidedly out of character for Scorpius, of course: going anywhere unannounced. So that was probably a red flag in and of itself, for Teddy.

“Um—well, it’s just.” He didn’t want to seem to panicked, so he was trying to stay calm, and not dive right into an ‘Albus is Missing!’ declaration. But also, he was struggling to formulate the words in a way that seemed casual. “You haven’t seen Al, have you? I mean, has he been by in the last couple of hours at all?”

Teddy stood up, figuring whatever Scorpius needed was going to take his full attention. This wasn’t exactly a casual social call. Teddy could tell that from his demeanor even before he mentioned Albus. His nerves seemed rolling, and Teddy had to wonder how long he’d been mentally focused on this, even if Teddy didn’t know exactly what this was.

“No, I haven’t, but he hadn’t made plans to stop by,” Teddy said with a shrug. Out of habit, he picked up his wand off the side table and tucked it into the holster pocket on the side of his pants. He suspected he wasn’t going to be home long. ‘I take it he was supposed to be home by now?”

Teddy turned and looked out the window. Under normal circumstances, this probably wouldn’t have been anything too concerning, but this time of year was always a tense one. “Al can handle himself.” Still, Teddy frowned as he considered where he could have gone or what he could be doing. “He’s not hiding some secret lover he ran off with, is he?” It was a joke, but despite himself, Teddy eyed Scorpius to see how he’d react to it. As much as he wanted to stand behind Rose, Teddy had always wondered what was going on there.

Had Scorpius gone to anyone else yet? Work or his parents’ place didn’t seem unlikely guesses, but Teddy wasn’t about to call Harry and ask if his son was there, not if it meant potentially raising the alarm of an auror with way too many connections. No, he and Scorpius could handle this. Hopefully. 

.

“Yeah, he—he was, yeah.”

Don’t panic, Scorp. Just don’t panic. If Albus were here, you know he’d be telling you not to panic and giving you that look. 

He huffs out a small breath, trying to slow the spinning of his head, and carefully forces his gaze back up to meet Teddy’s—when Teddy turns their back to look out the window, Scorpius tries not to let it start bouncing around too much again—he can’t afford to get too worked up just yet. It’s not necessary. And Albus wouldn’t want him to get too worked up. 

He cards his fingers through his hair, nodding a little as Teddy muttered about Albus being able to handle himself. It’s true, of course—he’s sharp and observant, good with his want with quick reflexes.... he’d be fine, probably. Definitely. But still... it isn’t good not knowing where he is. What if he needs help or something? 

The comment about the ‘secret lover’ rattles Scorpius a little, and it takes him a moment to gain traction again, moving from confused, to surprised, to confused again—then to what he hopes is resolute, but isn’t sure he manages it. “What? Oh—no, no, he—” He stammers, frowns, shakes his head. “I mean, no, he’s not. I don’t think he is. I think he would have—told me,” he finishes. 

And Al would have, right? Al tells him everything. If Al were seeing someone, Scorpius would know... wouldn’t he? “But I guess it’s... I guess it’s possible.” 

#teddy #teddy: anniversary skulk

[ravens-malfoy]

raphaelselwyn​:

Raphael tried to busy himself while he waited for Scorpius, adjusting his cloak and checking his watch. He’d always been taught not to look like he didn’t know what he was doing, even when there was nothing for him to do. Thankfully he didn’t want to wait long, and Raphael looked up in relief as Scorpius finished the conversation with his coworker and prepared to walk out the door. 

Raphael started moving, glad they didn’t have to worry about walking alone, even if they weren’t about to admit that aloud. Still, he held himself a bit aloof. He didn’t want to say he cared about what Scorpius thought of him when they certainly weren’t friends, but it had been drilled into him from such a young age to care what everyone thought. A Malfoy of all people wasn’t going to be the one to break him of that now.

“Few injuries is good,” Raphael said with a nod. He tensed his shoulders with their first step outside and forced himself to relax without a long, slow breath. Only then did he really focus on the next question.

“What? Oh! Not a patient, no. Interview for the paper. Not my typical job, but everyone has to jump in, especially this time of year.” He didn’t want to insinuate that two of his employees refused to leave the house or return when the sun wasn’t up, but hey, it wouldn’t have been incorrect if Scorpius came to that kind of conclusion for himself.

.

Scorpius nods. “Oh, right, of course.” And now that it’s been mentioned, he realizes he should have thought of that. He’d sort of known Raphael worked for the Daily Prophet, though any more details about what exactly his position was or what it entailed was beyond him. 

The comment about the time of year doesn’t really need further explanation. Scorpius gives another small nod, his eyes tracking the ground beneath his feet as he reminds himself to keep his shoulders relaxed. There’s an awkwardness between the two young wizards tonight which he’d like to shake, simply due to his nature of being a people pleaser. Only he doesn’t quite know how—he’s never been quite as comfortable and charismatic as Albus, and he does have a tendency to over-think. A monkeying mind as never served as useful in these situations—or basically in any situation, really—but he’ll do his best. 

“What’s your typical job then? Do you not usually go out for interviews, or?”

#sorry its a little short! #raphael #raphael: flooless

[ravens-malfoy]

rockylittleone​:

‘Gauzeplay’ Roxanne mouths, a nonverbal question mark. She wondered whether or not it was worth sneaking a text to Fred under the table to see if it was some weird medical thing. It’s not worth the bother in the end. She’s enjoying the company enough to let a few strange remarks slide, later investigation pending. 

“It’s not so hard as long as you don’t mind looking a bit weird.” Roxanne leans back in her seat, lacing her hands together across her stomach. “All the best people are. Weird.” It’s time, she thinks, to offer an olive branch. It’s the best she can do considering how many times she’s decided she’s made Scorpius uncomfortable. It’s the wince that does it. Best not to point out that sort of thing unless she wants to make him more uncomfortable. Which she doesn’t because it would likely go both ways and end in one big mess. The mush of cotton wool where her brain ought to be isn’t making it easier. 

Roxanne blows out a long breath. “I think what I’m saying is you do you, Al’s weird friend.” 

.

Al’s weird friend. It’s cute, charming, maybe a little embarrassing. And so he flushes a little, but he’s pretty sure she means it in a nice way, and so he nods, chuckling a little and giving her a smile that he supposes might be considered grateful, in a way. 

“Right, well—thanks, I think. I’ll take it as a compliment, anyway. And I mean, I agree, all the best people usually are weird. All my mates are, anyway. And, um—I mean, that’s not the worst I’ve done talking to a, uh, beautiful girl, so I guess I’ll take the win where I can get it.” 

He flushes then, turning his smile to the floor. “I really don’t know how Albus is better at the whole ‘being charming and not awkward’ thing than me, but he really is. Dad would be so disappointed,” he jokes. “A Potter smoother than a Malfoy?” He coats it with his father’s tight, posh accent. “Absurd.”

#Roxanne #roxanne: masquerade

[ravens-malfoy]

Routine, or Lack Thereof

dierdra-jones​:

ravens-malfoy​:

Scorpius’ brows jump into his messy ‘altogether-too-Potter’ hairline, as his father had often put it (especially under his breath on his moodier days around the home, which had always left a young Scorpius wondering idly what exactly that meant and what his father’s fixation with Harry Potter’s hair had to do with anything at all). He’d not expected this turn in conversation in general, so it pretty much goes without saying he’d not seen this little epiphany coming (if he had, it wouldn’t have been much of an epiphany at all, would it have been?)—but he definitely hadn’t expected an offer like that from none other than Dierdera Jones. 

Scorpius flushes almost immediately, both with excitement, and vague, anxious embarrassment. “Really? You’d do that? Merlin that’s—that’s very nice of you to say. I—” he falters. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, but he’s also afraid of seeming ungrateful. It’s a delicate balance. Because he definitely will take her up on that and he’s absurdly grateful. 

“I will, definitely, if you’re sure. But I really hope you don’t think I was angling for that this whole time. I promise, this is genuinely a new idea for me. This was not some sort of scheming manipulation because of who you are, I promise.” 

It was not that Dierdra didn’t trust the Healers she had, but no one ever really thought that they’d be working for any professional Quidditch team. From what she was aware, a lot of the people who worked with her had come by the position by happy accident. And truth be told, she wanted to know Scorpius Malfoy a little better.

“Of course you can write me–I trust you.” A rather strange thing to say after having only met Scorpius Malfoy that day. But he didn’t seem to have a disingenuous bone in his body. Dierdra marvelled at how in awe he was of the possibilities that had been laid before him.

Her fascination with this near stranger had come from the fact that she vicariously revelled in it with him, momentarily forgetting that her own path had been forged for her with no sign of a fork in the road. Perhaps that detour wasn’t going to just appear out of the mist. Perhaps she had to fight through the bramble for it.

It was, after all, nice to have friends who had passion.

“When do you finish your study? I’ll text my assistant to look for an email from you—or do you prefer owl? I personally think that there’s something a lot more genuine about handwritten letters.”

He lets out a laugh and looks down a moment, shaking his head. Oh, if only Albus were here to give him that look. The one that said, see, if you listened to me about the phone you wouldn’t have to be embarrassed right now. But he’s amused, not embarrassed. He really doesn’t think it’s that weird for a wizard to not have a muggle mobile, even though they are getting increasingly more popular these days.... but is there really so much wrong with tradition? 

“Sorry, I’m only laughing because Albus—um, I don’t know if you know Albus Potter, but he’s my best mate, and my roommate—” And really, doesn’t everyone at least know of the Potters? But he’s not going to be obnoxious and say or assume that out loud. Besides, it’s always just more polite to treat them like just another person, not someone known because of an infamous last name. It’s how Albus prefers it, anyway, and Scorpius can’t say he blames him at all.  

“He’s been trying to get me onto phones for months,” he continues. “But it, er. Hasn’t really caught on yet.” He scratches the back of his neck, deciding not to mention that Albus had already bought him one and Scorpius had already accidentally-on-purpose lost the thing. 

“So an owl is fine, if that’s okay with you. But I don’t actually finish my studies for another year and a bit. But I can choose to do my last term off-site. So like, if I were able to get an opportunity at somewhere other than St. Mungos, and I think this would probably count. I mean, if I could arrange it. Like, even just as an internship thing while I’m still technically an Apprentice...” 

He’s rambling now, so he stops himself, shakes his head. “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Whatever ends up working, even if I have to wait, that’s still amazing of you to offer and reach out. I really appreciate it. It’d, uh—” He lets out a small huff of a laugh, a little embarrassed and a little uncertain if he wants to admit what he’s about to but he does anyway. “It’d be quite the story to tell one day, if it worked out. That I basically got a job through none other than Dierdra Jones.”

#Dierdra #dierdra: nostalgia