[LOG] Flashback: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

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Where: The Quidditch Pitch
When: February 2020 (third year)

It wasn't the morning bell that woke Scorpius up, but the sound of laughter and raised voices coming from the common room. Blinking, Scorpius reached for his glasses and threw open the canopy curtains with an annoyed look in his face. It was a Saturday morning, everyone's morning to sleep in. He stalked out of the dormitory room thinking that a well-placed glare or threats of a few cracked heads might quiet down the ruckus in the common room, but by the time he got there, standing in the doorway in his pajamas, he could see that any hope of getting back to sleep would be futile.

The sixth and seventh years, boys and girls alike, had awoken and decked the common room in green and silver banners. Some of them sparkled and shimmered, others just flashed or had moving text and cartoons drawn on them, bearing witty slogans such as "GRYFFINDOR SUCKS SLYTHERIN'S SNAKE" and "GRYFFINDOR WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO FIND A SNITCH IF IT FLEW UP THEIR ARSE." Evidently Scorpius had forgotten that today was the big day that Slytherin played Gryffindor for a shot at the Cup against Hufflepuff. Some clever student had somehow managed to smuggle an entire keg of butterbeer into the common room, and cups were being conjured freely as the students passed around the good cheer. At eight o'clock in the morning.

"Hey, Scorpius!" Inigo Nott, a seventh year, spotted Scorpius in the doorway. He waved his wand and snatched a freshly summoned tankard of the air. "How 'bout some butterbeer before the game?"

Scorpius pushed his glasses up, trying to look severe. "The game doesn't start until eleven, Nott."

Nott shrugged and took a swig out of the tankard in his other hand. Rogir Kerrigor, the Head Boy of Hogwarts walked over and practically jumped on Inigo, throwing a hand about his shoulders and grinned like an idiot at Scorpius.

"Never too early to start a party is what I say!" he said, and raised his mug. "Even if you're just a third year. Cheers to a Slytherin victory, mates!" Everyone in the room with a glass dropped their conversation and shouted, "cheers!" Mugs clinked loudly and butterbeer spilled on the Slytherin rugs as students took swigs and urged each other to "Chug! Chug! Chug!" If the rest of the Slytherin hadn't been awake, they surely were now.

"Here," Nott ran over to keg and refilled both tankards, handing one to Scorpius. "Start your day off on the right foot!" He practically shoved it onto Scorpius's hands and then went off to join a game of Flip Cup, a Muggle drinking game that seemed to have recently caught on at Hogwarts.

Scorpius gingerly took a sip of his butterbeer before walking back down the stairs to his dormitory, the echoes of the party following him all the way to his own bed.

Comments

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"Mmmmmn?" Even through the blankets and pillows piled on top of him (Alby always seemed to make a mess of his bed, no matter whether he'd slept soundly or not) Alby could hear muffled shouts, cheers, and other such noises coming from beyond the closed curtains of his four-poster bed. He groaned, flailing about for a moment to find the opening of his bedclothes, and, upon finding his way out of the blankets and into the chill air of the Slytherin boys' dormitory, pulled one curtain aside and blinked around in the dim light of the small room, until he spotted Scorp just coming into the room, a mug of something in one hand.

"Whatchagot?" he mumbled, trying to extricate his legs from the blankets as well, wincing a bit as his bare feet touched the cold stone of the domitory floor. He padded over to his friend, blinking down at the mug before looking back up into Scorpius's face, a bit confused. "Looks like butterbeer...?" But why would Scorp be drinking butterbeer in the morning? Alby blinked again, glancing around - now that he was a bit more awake (relatively speaking), he noticed that the sounds that had woken him were coming from up the stairs, in the Slytherin common room. And he wasn't the only one to have been woken by them, it appeared - there was shuffling coming from Joe Wenlock's bed, and Alex Moran appeared to be trying to block out the noise by pulling his pillow over his head. It looked like Zach Sawbridge's bed was empty, though.

"Whassgoinon?" he asked - if anyone would know, it would be Scorpius.

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Alby's eyes were still closed. Well, nearly closed. Scorpius watched the boy roll out of bed, his clothes and hair still rumpled, and walk over to him, peering at contents of the tankard in his hand. Slowly Alby's eyes started to open as he woke up and looked about the room, still half-asleep.

"Party," Scorpius replied, still holding the butterbeer, not quite sure what to do with it. There was no way he was going to drink this entire thing at eight in the morning. "Because the Slytherin versus Gryffindor match is today. They've got banners made up already, and someone--"

"FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN, SHUT UP!" came the muffled voice of Alex Moran.

"--managed to sneak a keg--"

There was a rustling sound from Alex Moran and a few moments later the bed curtain's parted, and Moran's head poked itself into view, his eyes suddenly wide and alert. "Did you just say keg?"

"--of butterbeer into the common room," Scorpius finished, shooting Alex a look that said he shouldn't be interrupted in the middle of a sentence.

"Oh!" Alex Moran exclaimed, ignoring Scorpius's glare and throwing the curtains wide, he practically jumped out on the floor, wincing and limping as soon as his feet hit the damp stones of the dungeon. "I hope they still have some left!" He ran on his tiptoes out the door, trying to make it as fast the cold floor seemed to allow.

The shuffling continued from Joe Wenlock's bed, and there came a small, sleepy groan of despair from behind the curtains. "Just wake me for breakfast," Wenlock moaned.

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Alby blinked as Alex skittered out of the room, letting that information process - slowly - until it finally made sense. "Oh," he said, after a moment - that was right, there was a game today, but wasn't it a bit later in the morning? It couldn't be even ten o'clock yet, but then, it was an important game. Not only was it Slytherin versus Gryffindor, but it was for entrance into the final match to compete for the house cup. The two opposing houses had been building up to this event for at least a week - James had been elbowing Alby every time they passed in the hall for days, telling him that his house was going to wipe the pitch with Alby's. He's actually been a bit torn about it, really - he liked to cheer for James, of course, but this was different. He wanted to cheer for Slytherin too.

Alby yawned, trying to hide most of it behind one hand when he realized he was still standing in front of Scorpius, and blinked again at the mug in his friend's hand. It was probably a little early for butterbeer, but... well, he was thirsty. "Can I have some?" he asked, slipping his hands around the mug beneath the other's fingers and pulling it from Scorp's grasp, taking a swig and making a bit of a face. "Maybe I shoulda brushed my teeth first..."

He handed the mug back to Scorp, wiping off his mouth with the back of one hand. Well, he was already awake. They should begin serving breakfast in the Great Hall soon - provided, of course, it wasn't six in the morning. It was hard to tell time down in the Slytherin dungeons. "Izzit time to get dressed?" If Scorp didn't want to hang around here (and, in Alby's experience, Scorp didn't generally like parties quite so much), they could always go to the Great Hall even if breakfast wasn't being served. It tended to be open all day on the weekends.

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Scorpius took the mug back as Alby handed it back to him. He gazed down into it, it was half empty now. He looked back at Alby, who was yawning and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"It's about quarter past eight," Scorpius said, glancing at the clock. He squinted at it, hoping it wasn't playing tricks on him. It liked to do that occasionally. Once he had woken up in the middle of the night, and the clock had decided it would be some grand joke to tell him that he was late for his first class. He scrambled to get his clothes on, and only when he was done dressing and just shrugged on his robes had he noticed that the clock was wheezing with laughter and had returned to what time it really had been--three o'clock in the morning. Scorpius had almost destroyed it right then and there, but instead he'd decided to fire some nice, controlled curses on either side of it as a warning. It hadn't dared lie to him since.

"We should probably get dressed," Scorpius said. He set down the mug on his nightstand, figuring that Alby might want to finish it. He tried to edge it as far away as possible from his bed. He didn't quite trust Nott's conjuring skills on a Saturday morning, and certainly not since he'd been up since Merlin knew when with the other seventh years and a keg off butterbeer. Best to keep it away from anything that might be damaged should the tankard decide to disappear and spill its contents all over the place.

Scorpius rummaged about in the drawers of his dresser, looking for something to wear. It was going to be cold outside and even about the castle, if the temperature in the dungeon was any indication. At the bottom of his drawer of sweaters he found the Slytherin Quidditch jumper his mother had bought for him at the beginning of the school year. He'd protested against it, saying he didn't really like going to the games, but his mum had insisted, saying that it would come in handy nonetheless. Scorpius tried to wear it as little possible, not being the type to ostentatiously display his house colors. He'd only worn it a few times when all the rest of his jumpers were dirty. Figuring that it wasn't all that often the stakes in a Gryffindor-Slytherin faceoff were so high, Scorpius shrugged on a long-sleeved grey shirt and the Slytherin jumper over it.

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Alby groaned a little, quietly, at the time of morning, but he supposed it really was better to stay awake. Scorp seemed to agree that it was time to get dressed and began looking through his dresser, so Alby reluctantly shuffled over to his own, pulling out a pair of slightly battered blue jeans before digging for a shirt - it was cold, and it looked like Scorp was putting on a jumper, so Alby rummaged around until he came across the Slytherin jumper Grandma Molly had made for him - green with an "A" knitted into it in dark grey yarn - and pulled on first a white t-shirt, then his jumper before hopping one-leg-after-the-other into his jeans.

Once he'd found the rest of his clothing - socks, hat, robes, and scarf, he tossed them onto the bed and retreated into the bathroom to brush his teeth, trying to pull a brush through his hair and eventually giving up (as he usually did, most mornings - his hair refused to be tamed, so once it was no longer tangled, there wasn't much more he could do for it) and padding back into the dormitory, waiting for Scorpius to get ready. He picked up the mug that Scorp had set down, figuring the other wasn't going to drink it, and drained it of the remaining butterbeer before they both made their way (carefully) through the noisy common room, trying to avoid being sloshed upon by the rather rowdy crowd. Alby eyed the numerous flashing and sparkling banners, wondering what the Gryffindor common room must look like at this hour, but politely declined the mug of butterbeer Rogir Kerrigor tried to hand him - one was probably enough, this morning.

The Great Hall was, thankfully, warmer than the Dungeons, but still a but cold in the late winter chill that permeated the entire castle. There weren't many students up yet - the Ravenclaw table was sparsely populated with students eating and reading at the same time, and while Alby spotted Rose at the far end of her table, he was too tired to bother her at the moment. He and Scorp made their way over the Slytherin table which, like the others, had a few trays of breakfast food out for the early-morning students to eat before the real breakfast rush began. Upon sitting at the bench, Alby pulled one of the trays of muffins over, taking one and biting into it halfheartedly before setting it down in lieu of folding his arms and resting his head on them, yawning again. "Don't see why they had to wake everybody up so early..."

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Scorpius pulled out a pair of jeans that had fit perfectly at the start of the year but were now getting a little tight and a little short. He'd tried to Transfiguring them a couple of weeks ago to get them to fit him a bit better, but for some reasons his spells never stuck. He waved his wand at them and glared through his glasses warningly, hoping the spell would at least stick for the duration of the match, and the rest of the day if he were lucky. He slipped them on and pulling out some socks and shoes, and finished dressing. He joined Alby in the bathroom where he combed his hair quickly and spent a good while brushing his teeth. Spitting out the last of the toothpaste, he and Alby left the dorm where Joe Wenlock was just starting wake up and get out of bed.

"See you at the game," Wenlock said, sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing his eyes. Scorpius waved as he and Alby went up the stairs.

"Hey Alby!" Alessandra Ayers waved from the couch as Albus and Scorpius walked through the room. She grinned widely and offered Scorpius and Alby a cup. They both shook their heads politely. "I hope we beat the living daylights out of your brother's team today!"

"I just hope we win," Scorpius muttered as the boys emerged into the Great Hall, "and that they're not so partied-out that they can't ride their brooms properly.

They sat themselves down at the Slytherin table, which for the most part was still empty. They were practically the only ones at breakfast, save for a few of the older years who'd obviously been partying since before the sun rose and gone upstairs to scavenge for some food to take the edge off the butterbeer. The Gryffindor table was just about as empty. Scorpius figured that whatever was going on in Slytherin was going in Gryffindor as well.

Scorpius poured himself a cup of tea and sipped it as he reached for the steaming tray of scrambled eggs sitting right in front of him.

"They should have just cast a silencing charm," Scorpius agreed, serving himself and Alby some sausage. Scorpius rolled his eyes, recalling the mess about the tables as students tried and failed to flip their cups over. "Kerrigor and Ayers should know better to," Scorpius added, satisfying his lingering annoyance at being woken up on a weekend at such an early hour. "They're prefects!" he said around a mouthful of egg.

Alby was obviously not listening. He'd taken a bite out of a muffin and set it down off to the side, resting his head in his arms and closing his eyes. Scorpius rested a hand in his air and ruffled it. Was it the morning or the butterbeer that was getting to him? Scorpius couldn't tell.

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"Mm," Alby hummed, not entirely sure himself whether it had been in agreement or appreciation at the hand in his hair, which felt pleasant, not like when James did it, more like when his mother did it. But then, Scorp was always gentle about it.

He opened his eyes, realizing that there was sausage on his plate, and grinned a bit, lifting his head up enough to stab it with a fork and take a large bite, chewing. "Yeah, they shoulda known to cast a silencing charm, not everybody wants t'get up at the crack of dawn!" he agreed through a mouthful of meat, before swallowing properly. "Besides, if they're up so early and drinking all that butterbeer, they better not lose the match!" Alby was pretty sure the celebrating was supposed to come after the win, and not before, but sometimes the workings of the minds of Quidditch players eluded him. Especially when James got on a big exercising or practicing kick. He'd go around for days doing situps and pushups and chinups and whatever-else-ups and insisting that Alby practice with him at all hours of the day. Alby liked Quidditch as much as the next bloke, but James was a little weird about it sometimes. Maybe he got it from their mum, she'd played professionally for a while. Or maybe he was just weird.

But none of that really had anything to do with the conversation at hand, and Alby tried to pull his muddled mind back to the Slytherin table and Scorp. "I don't think I want to be in here when the real breakfast rush starts," he said, already thinking about how half the Slytherin team would likely be downing a number of cups of strong black coffee in an attempt to fend off the effects of the butterbeer and, probably more importantly, the early partying. "Maybe we should go out to the Pitch early?" He yawned again, thinking about the brisk morning air, and how much warmer and nicer it was in here. He grinned lopsidedly at Scorp, pushing his plate away a little and folding his arms again, setting his head down upon them once more. "Inna minute, I mean," he mumbled around yet another yawn, thinking that it would be nice to just sit here a while longer. "When people start t'come in..."

[OOC: And he'll doze off right at the end of that thought~ :D;;]

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Scorpius finished his breakfast as Alby drifted off. The kid had his eyes closed, and was snoring ever so softly as his sausages got cold. Scorpius didn't have the heart to wake him up--he knew how much sleep Alby needed and was sure that he'd still been a good couple hours off from fulfilling his quota when the party had really started in the Slytherin common room. Some of the younger Slytherins began filing up from the dungeon, still yawning and staring blankly at the breakfast laid out before them, trying to figure out what it was they were in the mood for.

Scorpius put a soft hand on Alby's shoulder and the boy just stayed there, slumped over with his arms as his pillow. Scorpius rose from the table and glared at some of the first and second years who'd been denied butterbeer by their elders because of their age. "If you wake him up, you're dead."

One second year, some girl named Catchlove, nodded quickly, eyes wide. She still remembered how the Slytherin table had spent the Sorting feast talking about how Scorpius Malfoy, then only a boy of 12 years, had sent some sixth year students to the hospital wing. The entire affair had garnered Scorpius quite the fearsome reputation, and where Albus Potter was concerned, there was no Slytherin who was brave enough to flirt that closely with certain death.

Scorpius descending the stairs and took a turn away from the Slytherin Dungeons, eventually finding the large, still-life painting that marked the entrance on the kitchens. He tickled the pear as his mother had once instructed him to do. It giggled and transformed itself, Scorpius took the handle and swung the door open.

The kitchen was a scene of organized chaos at this hour, the entire room filled with steam and smoke, and little figures of house elves dashing back and forth from one side of the room to the other. A bit taken aback by the sheer breadth of the room itself, Scorpius stood there for a moment and stared as house elves scurried about, carrying dirty pots and pans to the sink that occupied an entire wall, running about with various utensils--spatulas, measuring spoons, and knives--it was a wonder they didn't bump into each other or hurt themselves.

"Um," Scorpius coughed and all the house elves looked up at once, some hundred-odd pairs of eyes suddenly trained in his direction. "Excuse me," he began, but all the house elves had resumed their work, ears flapping this way and that as they returned to their business.

One house elf, having dropped her pans in the sink where another house elf was busy spelling them clean again, approached him. She looked quite middle aged and seemed to be one of the house elves in charge--or at least, most willing to put her work on hold. She walked up to him, wiping her hands on the tea towel that was her only clothing. It was white, spotless, and stamped with the Hogwarts Crest.

"How can Winky be serving the young Mr. Malfoy today?" she asked in a squeaky, business-like tone.

"You wouldn't happen to have any hot dogs, would you?" Scorpius asked, realizing he probably sounded off his rocker. The house elf's eyes widened, as she continued to stare at him. "There's a Quidditch match today," Scorpius added a bit hastily, dropping down to the floor so he could talk eye to eye with Winky, "so I thought me and my mate, Albus, would like to have a snack during the game."

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"Albus?" Winky squeaked. Her hands clutched her skirt and brought it up to her mouth. Surprised, Scorpius looked away quickly, not wanting to catch and eyeful of...house elf...junk. "The Albus Severus Potter?"

"Yeah," Scorpius said with a nod.

"Wait here, sir," Winky said. She dropped her skirt again and pelted off back into the chaos of the kitchen. Scorpius breathed a sigh of relief.

Winky rematerialized moments later, holding a large paper bag on a tray that was almost too big for her. Nevertheless she carried it steadily and offered it to Scorpius.

"Hot dogs with ketchup, mustard, onions, and relish on the side, sir."

Albus took the proferred bag, and lifted it. It was awfully heavy. How many hot dogs were in this thing?

"And a pot of tea with some milk and sugar, sir," Winky squeaked.

"Uh, thanks," Scorpius said, brightening a bit. "Thanks a lot."

Winky curtsied. "Anything else I can be doing for Mr. Malfoy or Mr. Potter?"

Scorpius shook his head. "Not really, I guess." He fished in the pocket of his jeans and came up with a couple of sickles. "Here," he tried pressing the coins into Winky's hand, but the house elf shook her head.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, Winky can't be accepting money from Mr. Malfoy! Winky and all the house elves at Hogwarts get paid if they want, sir," she shook her head vigorously, her ears making a comical little flapping noise. "Two galleons a week!" she said proudly. "We likes the work and we likes Headmistress Phoenixfire, and we isn't asking for much more than that."

A couple of the house elves in the kitchen murmured their agreement.

"Uh, all right then," Scorpius said uncertainly, pocketing the change again. He stood up and waved. "Cheers," he said simply, and Winky waved goodbye to him before getting back to work.

Cheeful lot, thought Scorpius as he went back to his dormitory. He put the bag of hot dogs and tea into his bookbag and brought it up with him as he went back to the Great Hall. Albus was where he left him, still sleeping, his sausages long gone cold. Scorpius took his up seat once more, and poured himself a new cup of tea.

He sat drinking quietly as more and more of the upper years began filing into the Great Hall, some of the Slytherin carrying their banners up with them to the table jeering at the Gryffindors seated at their table. The Gryffindors taunted back, displaying their own banners, which had been constructed by students of roughly the same cleverness as those in Slytherin. Scorpius rolled his eyes. He was never going to get into this Quidditch house spirit thing.

[OOC: Uh, I have no idea why that was so long. DX Sorry!]

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Alby was having a rather pleasant dream - something about hot sausages and flying - when a number of sounds began to filter down through his unconscious that seemed to have nothing to do with his dream. Voices - lots of voices, all laughing and jeering - which began to grow in volume until he woke, slowly, to a bit of movement beside him. He blinked his eyes open, staring at a plate of rather cold sausages, and the side of Scorp's arm beyond that, the other's fingers curled around a cup of tea - though probably not the same cup of tea, Alby realized, as the volume and number of people in the Great Hall had grown considerably, and he'd likely fallen asleep for some considerable amount of time.

He groaned quietly, shifting on the bench as he realized his shoulders were rather stiff, and stretched his arms over his head, hearing more than one joint pop as he blinked at the mayhem around them. The Slytherin and Gryffindor tables were mostly occupied now, both sporting banners of the same sort that he'd seen in the common room as he and Scorp had passed through it on their way up here.

He caught sight of James over at the Gryffindor table, waving one of the banners about proudly; his brother saw that he was awake and grinned across the room at Alby, shouting, "Down with Slytherin!" rather good-naturedly. From the look of things, James had been one of the students up well before dawn, though he didn't seem much the worse for it. Alby knew that, tired or not, James would give the game his all, and Slytherin would have to stay on their toes. The Gryffindor team wasn't cocky for nothing. But then, Slytherin had a rather good team as well, this year. This game promised to be one to remember.

"Hi Alby!" He turned, seeing his sister, Lily, come into the Great Hall, greeting him as she did nearly every morning. He waved, watching Lily go over to the Gryffindor table, where she was grabbed up and spun in a circle by the rather jovial James, before being set down, her hair somewhat mussed, to begin her breakfast, giggling. Alby turned back to Scorp and the rest of the Slytherin table, where Pawel Sykes was now standing, waving one of their own green and silver banners wildly above his head, to the applause and giggling of his peers.

"... If it's this bad now, just imagine what the morning before the house cup will be like." Alby grinned groggily at Scorp, who looked rather not amused by all the ruckus. It really wasn't bad - at least it was a decent hour now, he supposed, and there was nothing wrong with house spirit. Alby rather liked Quidditch matches, even if he wasn't one to tout a vulgar flashing banner about his head like a bullfighter. "I wasn't out long, was I?"

[OOC: Ahahaha, poor Scorp, Winky almost flashed him. XD; Though I guess it's useful to be able to throw the Potter name around every once in a while? XD]

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Scorpius heaved a sigh and put down his tea. The upside to having the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables on complete other sides of the Great Hall was they weren't close enough for fights or scuffles to break out. On the other hand, any communication and taunting between the tables meant that one had to shout and be heard across the entire room, which generated quite a buzz across the entire width of the Great Hall, what with Slytherin shouting at Gryffindor and the Gryffindors shouting back, and the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in the middle yelling for everyone to shut up so they could have a decent breakfast. All in all, any shouting that happened was, by the time it reached the other side of the room, completely unintelligible, and all Scorpius could make out from the din was Sykes, who'd jumped on the table waving a Slytherin flag back and forth, insulting the size of the genitalia of the average Gryffindor.

"I am going to cast a strong silencing charm about my bed the morning of the Quidditch House Cup if Slytherin wins," Scorpius said wryly, imagining the chaos of the cup matches of previous years. "And take a nice, strong sleeping draught." He grinned as more food appeared on the table before him--grilled potatoes and pancakes smothered in berry syrup and butter. He helped himself and Alby to a bit of both.

"Nah," Scorpius said with a shake of his head, after Alby had asked him how long he'd been passed out, "you didn't miss much." He waved his fork around at the room in general. Some Ravenclaws got up and left, exasperated looks on their faces. The Hufflepuffs sat back in their benches, amused by the entire ordeal, some even taunting both sides, to better enjoy the show.

They finished their breakfasts as quickly as the ruckus in the Great Hall was allowed, figuring they didn't want to be present when the professors finally came down to quiet the Hall and give all the students a good talking to about acceptable language and noise levels. They made their way back to the Dungeons to grab some suitable outdoor wear--it was a nippy morning at best, and Scorpius didn't care to be shivering and freezing for hours out in the middle of the Quidditch stands.

The party in the Slytherin Common had almost completely died down by the time Scorpius and Albus emerged from their dormitory room. Professor Blackwood was there, eyeing the now empty keg suspiciously with a disapproving frown on his narrow face. They bumped into Joe and Alex on their way back up the stairs, and from the grin on Alex's face it was patently plain that he'd had more butterbeer than any decent person ought to before a Quidditch game.

"Save us some seats, all right?" Joe called out as Scorpius and Albus passed. "Front row, got it?"

"Sure," Scorpius said, giving his dormmate a wave as they ascended the stairs.

The Quidditch stands were already starting to fill up, at least an hour before the game. The good seats packed with students of various levels of inebriation, pretending to be less inebriated than they were lest they get a week's worth of detention, and in order to find enough room for four people to squeeze together, Scorpius and Albus had to scavenge a few rows further up than they'd originally hoped. Scorpius tried his best not to look bored as he set his satchel down on the bleachers between his feet and took a seat beside Albus, realizing belatedly that he'd forgotten to bring anything with his house colors on it to wave around.

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Alby and Scorp headed back to the Slytherin common room only long enough to collect their hats, gloves, and scarves before they made their way across the castle to the Quidditch Pitch. Alby was glad that they managed to slip past Professor Blackwood on their way in and out - he did not look pleased in the least that there had been an entire keg of butterbeer in his house common room, nor that it was now completely empty. From the look on the face of Alex Moran as they passed him, Alby wondered if he hadn't had half the keg, himself.

Even an hour before the game, there was no way they were going to get front row seats - some of the older students had beaten them to the stands, and not all of them were completely sober, though perhaps the cold would help with that. Slytherin's section wasn't the only one filling up - students from all houses were already trickling into the stands, claiming their seats and complaining about the cold weather already. Alby wondered if it would be a long game; though the excitment of the game did tend to keep one warm, he supposed.

Finding room for four people a few rows back, he and Scorpius sat down on the bleachers to wait for the match to start. Alby bounced a bit in his seat, finally properly awake, trying to keep warm. Next to him, Scorpius looked, Alby could tell, like he was trying not to look bored. He grinned a little behind one of the mittens Grandma Molly had knit him and dug around in his pocket a moment.

Alby pulled a silver and green banner (this one was plain, no sparkles or flashing text) out of his pocket - it was rather crumpled, having been shoved into a space that was much to small to fit it - and shook it out, grinning, over Scorpius and himself. "It's not quite a blanket," he admitted, "but maybe it'll help!" He continued bouncing just a bit, though, so that his legs and bottom wouldn't freeze to the bleachers.

The wait seemed to go on forever, but finally the trickle of students coming from the castle had turned into a full-blown river, and then back to a trickle as the last of the students hurried for seats in the stands. Just as it looked like the student announcer, Ramiel Marchbanks, was getting ready in the stand across from them, Alex and Joe arrived beside them, huffing and puffing and rather red in the face. "Thanks!" Joe wheezed, as he and Alex slid onto the benches beside them. "We had to make this," he said, pulling one of the flashing banners proudly out of his coat. GRYFFINDOR CAN SUCK MY PITCH, it said, in flashing yellow letters.

[OOC: I'm guessing the game can go by pretty quickly, narrative-wise, though I'd say it was probably a decently long match, an hour or two maybe?]

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A grin crossed Scorpius's face as Alby fished into his pocket for a silver and green banner. It was just like him to shove it into his pocket and draw it out later only to find it creased and crumpled. Well, it would serve its purpose, Scorpius supposed as it covered a bit of their laps if they sat a bit closely together. Scorpius was sitting so close to Alby he hoped he wouldn't get elbowed in the head by his best friend the first time Slytherin (or Gryffindor) scored a goal, like the last time they'd sat this scrunched together at a match.

It was nearly the start of the game by the time Joe and Alex arrived at the stands, squeezing past their housemates as they disturbed legs and tripped over feet on the way to their seats. Joe proudly pulled out a banner he and Alex had concocted, and Scorpius had to bite his tongue in order not to roll his eyes at the antics of his yearmates.

"Whaddya think, mate?" Alex asked with the sort of grin that told Scorpius he'd been the clever one to think up that particular punchline.

"Charming," Scorpius said, adjusting his glasses and wishing there was something they made for warming one's nose, because his was starting to feel decidedly numb. He was sitting so close to Alby that their shoulders jostled uncomfortably, so Scorpius fixed the problem by throwing an arm around Alby’s shoulders.

The game started a few moments later as both Slytherin and Gryffindor took their positions on the field, Madame Windeatt standing in the center, her whistle in her mouth and the Quaffle in her hand. The whistle blew and the students watched tensely as after a short scuffle, Slytherin emerged with the Quaffle in their possession. The Slytherin students leapt up from their seats and cheered, waving their banners, some of the older years hurling insults across the Pitch at their Gryffindor rivals, mocking their ancestors as far as ten generations back. Alby jumped up and down beside Scorpius in the rush to their feet, almost clonking their heads together, as they lifted their banner in the air, every eye in the stands followed the flight of the two teams.

Despite the early morning partying (Scorpius strongly suspected that some members of both houses may have even started the night before), both Slytherin and Gryffindor were playing at the top of their game, every goal by Slytherin being answered in kind by Gryffindor. Scorpius's eyes roved the Pitch for a glimpse of the golden snitch, the only part of the game that really interested him. His father, Draco had once been a Slytherin Seeker and was a bit disappointed to find that his son was not as adept at a riding a broom as he had once been. Preferring more cerebral games, Scorpius challenged his father to a game of wizarding chess on the condition that if he won, his father would stop bringing up the topic of Quidditch tryouts. Unfortunately his father had been better at chess than he'd originally anticipated, and after a tense game of 23 moves, Scorpius had forced his father into a checkmate, at which point Draco had suggested Scorpius form a chess team.

After some long minutes of searching and being unable to locate the Snitch, Scorpius decided it was time to grab a bite before his hotdogs froze solid. Reaching into his bookbag he drew out the sack that Winky had handed him. “Hungry?” he asked Alby, knowing that if Alby had his way, he’d eat the bag whole.

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Alby didn't mind sitting close to Scorp - it was warmer that way, and they'd used that fact to keep them from freezing solid at more than one Quidditch match in the past. He leaned into the other boy, though he was careful not to move too much - he didn't want to smack Scorp in the head accidentally, as had also happened at more than one Quidditch match in the past. It was a wonder the boy even wanted to sit next to him, sometimes - because sometimes Alby just couldn't help but jump and wave his arms when a particularly good goal was scored. He might think James a bit daft for being as into playing Quidditch as he was, but watching the match was exciting to Alby, and he couldn't not direct that excitement somewhere. Hopefully, though, this time none of it would get directed at Scorpius enough to bruise.

The game was not only fast-paced, but fairly evenly-matched, despite the amount of pre-match partying that seemed to have gone on on both sides. Alby's neck was getting a bit sore, trying to follow the game, the chasers were so fast and, for the first time in a while, Alby found that he did long to be out there on the pitch, with the quaffle under one arm. But right now was not the time for fantasies - right now was the time to pay attention, because he was sure the second he took his eyes off the game, something extraordinary would happen and he'd miss it.

Next to him, Scorpius shifted, and suddenly Alby smelled food - very, very appetizing food, considering he hadn't exactly eaten a full breakfast. Scorpius was holding a sack in his lap, and as soon as the top was open Alby forgot to keep his eyes on the game and looked inside, his mouth watering as soon as he saw what was there.

"Are those hot dogs? Where did you get them? I can have one, right?" Alby reached inside, pulling one out - and promptly shoved half of it into his mouth, chewing excitedly. It was still quite warm, though he had no idea when Scorp had managed to get them. He blinked a moment, later, glancing back inside the sack, chewing vigorously so that he could swallow enough to ask, "Wait, is that ketchup? And mustard? And... you got everything, hod did you get these?!" He set the uneaten half of his hot dog down in his lap, reaching inside to pull out some of the sides, slathering ketchup, mustard, and relish on the remaining half before taking another, somewhat smaller bite, trying not to spill all over himself. "Thanks!"

Of course, as he chewed on the second-to-last bite of his hot dog, he realized Scorp had barely had time to take his hands off the sack, let alone get a hot dog for himself. Alby flushed immediately - talk about rude! - and reached in with one hand, pulling out a hot dog for Scorpius, balancing it carefully on his palm. "Here, put what you want on this one, I'll hold it for you!"

Just beyond the rows of heads below them, the game continued, though it seemed that for the moment, the chasers were at a bit of a stalemate, weaving back and forth and making it halfway down the pitch only to lose the quaffle to the other side and have the process repeat in the opposite direction, while bludgers bore down on anyone not quick enough to keep an eye on them.

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Scorpius tried hard not to stare rudely as Alby started on his second hot dog, shoving almost of half of it into his mouth before deciding to start chewing. He had no idea where Alby, as small as he was for his year, managed to put that much food away that quickly. As a child it had been difficult enough for his mother to get him to finish his plate, and even now Alby consumed about twice what he did.

"Snuck down to the kitchens," Scorpius replied, reaching into the bag the house elves had packed him off with, liberally smothering his hot dog with ketchup and onions. "They're really polite down there, those house elves. Thoughtful too," he said, grabbing his hot dog from Alby's hand and taking a large bite. Oh, that was pure bliss. Scorpius broke out into a smile, and made a mental note to bring hot dogs to all the future Quidditch games he attended. "Thanks," he added to Alby as his friend reached for a third helping.

Beside him, he heard Alex Moran and Joe Wenlock sniffing the air, the scent of grilled franks and warm bread reaching them. "Aw, that's brilliant mate," Alex said with a wolfish grin as Scorpius offered him the bag. "Nothing better than butterbeer, Quidditch, and hot dogs!" he exclaimed, rummaging for relish. He tossed some condiments to Joe, who was having trouble balancing their banner, his hot dog, and a bunch of tiny condiment cups.

The other Slytherin students sitting around them looked enviously at the bag that Scorpius had procured, wishing that they'd had the foresight to bring something to snack on out in the stands. When they polished off the hot dogs, Scorpius passed around the tea, though unfortunately Winky had only given them two cups. He shared his teacup with Albus, while Joe and Alex shared, passing the small cup between their mittened hands, trying not to spill or drop the it entirely.

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At this very moment, Alby thought Scorp might very well be the most wonderful person on earth. Hot dogs were somehow exactly what he wanted right now, out in the cold, and as the four Slytherins shared the spoils of Scorpius's kitchen visit among them, Alby didn't have to worry at all why he'd been put into Slytherin house. Even after the hot dogs disappeared (Alby admittedly eating half the bag himself), there was tea to be passed around, though only two cups. But sharing was all right, and kept them warmer anyway, huddled close in the stands as the game suddenly seemed to come back to life before Alby's eyes.

He nearly spilled the teacup's contents over Scorpius as James made a particularly impressive save; Alby never knew whether he should jump up and cheer for Gryffindor when he was sitting in the middle of the Slytherin stands, which usually resulted in a half-jolt before he stopped himself and resorted to yelling wildly instead. This time, he just caught himself as the teacup was about to upend and splash tea all over his best friend. Alby turned a bit red and hung his head, glancing at Scorp guiltily out of the corner of his eye. "Eheh, sorry..." He handed the teacup to Scorp for a minute by way of apology - if he didn't have a grasp on it, he couldn't send it flying, right?

The score was getting close - Slytherin had seventy points and Gryffindor had fifty. Even though the game had already been going on a good long while, it seemed to be getting progressively harder for any one team to score - the teams seemed nearly evenly matched, with Gryffindor's chasers now in possession of the quaffle. Alby, having handed the tea over to Scorpius, now leaned over the other's lap nearly completely as the chasers neared the end of the pitch, trying to get a better look at their formation, steadying himself with a mittened hand on Scorp's knee when he nearly fell over trying to see around the row in front of them as the chasers swooped below the stands.


[OOC: I'm thinking we may not have to narrate too much more of the game? Gryf can catch the snitch whenever we decide to end, I suppose? XD; Unless you want more of Alby leaning and jumping all over Scorp, which can of course be arranged~ <3]

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Scorpius held on tightly to his cup of tea as Alby handed it over to him. It had nearly been spilled on him a few times, and despite the lingering winter here in Hogwarts, he still didn't fancy something hot being tossed all over him. Alby was trying to get a better look at the Chasers flying below the stands when he almost fell on top of the fourth year Slytherins sitting on front of them--the boy had managed to save himself with a hand on Scorpius's knee, a hand which was now rapidly beginning to make the climb toward his thigh. In the middle of polishing off the tea, Scorpius suddenly choked and started coughing uncontrollably.

The fourth year Slytherins turned around to shoot him a look, but Scorpius kept coughing. He could feel his face turning red as most of his row turned to regard him as well, as if it was rude to suddenly choke on one's tea in the middle of a Quidditch game when Slytherin was ahead. He felt Alby patting him on the back, and after a few more hacks he'd gotten it out of his system and was able to clear his throat with a bit of a raspy, "thanks," to his best friend.

His throat a little raw from all the coughing, Scorpius helped himself to the dregs of the tea in the pot he'd poached from the kitchen, downing it carefully so he wouldn't choke again. He kept his eyes on Alby's hands, ready to stop should they make another unexpected move toward him. He was just putting the empty teapot back away when he heard some of the students around the stadium let out a small gasp. Scorpius scanned the Pitch, his gaze flickering over the players, over the air above the stands, down in the grass below everyone--and then he saw it. The Snitch was hovering there--nothing more than a miniscule glint of gold--above the grass, below the Slytherin team's goal. Both the Slytherin and Gryffindor seekers, who had been circling far above the pitch, suddenly saw it and dive downwards both their eyes on the prize.

Scorpius adjusted his glasses as the stands fell into a hush, wondering whether the Snitch would escape or whether one of the teams would come up with it, victorious.

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Alby straightened the instant Scorp started coughing, jumping a bit and turning to his friend, making sure he was okay. It looked like maybe the tea had just gone down the right way - he patted the blonde on the back, hoping it was helping, and made a face at the row of fourth years glaring at them from the row below. It wasn't like Scorp was trying to ruin the game for them! It wasn't even that loud! Finally, Scorpius cleared his throat and managed to get out a thank-you, and Alby nodded, grinning and surreptitiously kicking the shoulder of the Slytherin in front of them "accidentally." That'd teach them.

Just seconds after his friend had recovered, there was a collective gasp from the audience as the snitch was spotted - Alby leaned forward, nearly off his seat to see the tiny glint of gold, hovering inches above the grass under the Slytherin team goal. Both seekers had taken off toward the ball, and every student in the stands was trying to follow their progress as the two players shot towards the bottom of the goalpost. Alby bounced his knees nervously, wondering if this would be it - if Gryffindor caught the snitch now, that would bring them ahead and they'd win -

The pitch was nearly completely silent as the seekers dove; then, suddenly, one of them pulled up - and half the stadium burst into applause as Cara Thurson, the Gryffindor seeker, held the snitch up for all to see. The answering roar of defeat and booing from Slytherin was nearly deafening around them as most of the rest of the stands erupted into applause. Alby blinked, open-mouth, twitching again because a small part of him wanted to cheer for Gryffindor too, but his own house had just been defeated. He managed to slide back into his seat properly, next to Scorp, sighing and glancing at his friend, a wan grin spreading across his lips. "Wow! That was a good match! It's too bad we lost - I think maybe we really could've won that one, otherwise! Wow, I bet James is going to be up all night celebrating!" He supposed any congratulations would have to come later, if he was going to give them. It would be no use getting near Gryffindor Tower tonight. "Do you need help with the teapot or anything?"

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Everyone in the stands stood as one and peered over the heads of the row in front of them, trying to get a peek at the fate of the golden snitch. The two Seekers were diving downwards at such speeds that Scorpius was half-afraid that one of them might collide into the other, or worse, into the ground below when suddenly the Gryffindor seeker pulled up from her dive and shot in the air, one of her hands held aloft. The Gryffindors and some scattered Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws cheered. Dismayed, the entirety of Slytherin House erupted in one long, "booooooo!"

Scorpius was secretly glad that they'd lost, because it meant that he'd finally be able to get some peace and quiet back in the common room. Partying with the older years wasn't exactly his definition of 'fun,' but from the disappointed looks on his housemates' faces they didn't share his sentiment. Wenlock and Moran both looked as if they'd both been punched in the gut, and Alby just had a wan smile on his face. He was happy that his brother had won, and was trying his best to hide it amongst the crestfallen looks of the rest of the Slytherins.

"We seemed pretty evenly matched," Scorpius agreed. "I'm sure Gryffindor will be partying all night."

Alex Moran heaved a loud sigh, as some of the Slytherins started to leave. "And I was looking forward to drinking myself into a stupor..."

"You're fourteen years old, Alex," Scorpius said, shaking his head as Alby offered to help him with the teapot. He gathered the pot and the cups and put them back into his satchel. "Besides, butterbeer doesn't have much alcohol in it."

Alex grinned. "Normal butterbeer doesn't, but who'd sneak a keg into the common room if it hadn't been already spiked with something?"

Wenlock rolled his eyes and Scorpius had to exert some self-control in order not to join him. He looked over at Albus, and suddenly realized that his friend may have had an entire tankard of spiked butterbeer and seemed no less worse the wear for it.

"Well, the keg's empty now," Scorpius replied, packing up Alby's banner and standing up, ready to head out. Moran frowned, a bit disappointed, while Wenlock looked a bit relieved. It sure was difficult having a party animal as a dormmate and a best friend. Scorpius wouldn't wish himself in Wenlock's shoes for the world.

Feeling a bit tired and drained in their loss of the game, Scorpius shooed Wenlock and Moran toward the exit. "Come on," he said to Alby, who was still looking cheerful and bouncy, "I think I could do with an afternoon nap after lunch."

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[OOC: I figure we can finish this up in a couple of posts, and hey, there's always more of Alby jumping all over Scorp to be had elsewhere! Did you want to do their first trip to Hogsmeade, and then a small Ora/Alison aside where they have tea? XD That'll be a fun way to kick off fourth year, I think. >3]

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[OOC: ::nodnod:: Okay~ Yes, I'm sure Alby will find ways to jump all over Scorp no matter the setting. XD <3 Hm... either way - maybe we should try to go in order and do the Hogsmeade trip first before the aside, but I suppose in the end it really won't matter too much. If you want to take a break from Alby and Scorp, then the aside would be fine~ XD]

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[OOC: Let's do the Hogsmeade trip before the aside, then. Technically I think we're already out of order because the trip should have happened already, but meh! :D Let's finish up third year, then do the aside, the Snogs scene, and then jump into fifth year! :D How does that sound?]

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[OOC: Sure - heh, I guess we are out of order already, now that you mention it. ^^; But I suppose we ought to try to keep some semblance of it? XD; All of that up there sounds good though~

I'd say we're pretty much done with this log, since that was a good stopping point? :D I also have a bunch of mini-profiles to put up at some point, since Valerie wanted to help with them this weekend. XD Aaaand I suppose I should start the Hogsmeade log, then? Should we start with them leaving the castle, or when they're already there?]

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[OOC: I like the idea of starting with them just getting into Hogsmeade, and all the students breaking up into the little shops and whatnot. :D Did you want to kick it off? :3]

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[OOC: Sure, that works - I'll have them just arriving in the town, then~ :D I can go ahead and start, since you did the Quidditch one! I'll try to have something up later this afternoon, after I get a bit of work done!]