Chapter Text
Scorpius did a double-take across the Ministry lobby and immediately ducked behind the nearest pillar in an attempt to conceal. It was a pointless effort, as he was now more in the way, standing directly in the path of hurried Ministry officials. Still, he stayed put, too curious and fearful to move.
It had been a year since he’d last seen Albus Potter - a year that had seemingly done wonders to Potter’s wiry physique. He had grown less pointy since graduation, all broadened in the shoulders with his sun-kissed hair flopping about his head in a beautiful, chaotic mess.
Scorpius straightened his spine in an attempt to suck in his tummy. The action did nothing, of course. Even a bloody corset couldn’t hide the damage he’d accosted on himself whilst abroad.
He knew he had overindulged something awful while in France. For Paris especially, he had been rather large. The locals made a point to make this known, staring at him as he stood in queue at the local pâtisserie, no doubt wondering why he was ordering a third croissant instead of working to lose the excess pudge from his middle.
Growing up, he had assumed that one day his puppy fat would vanish, giving way to a more svelte physique. He'd assumed - rather wrongfully, he supposed - that eventually he'd be graced with the same slender ease his father and the rest of the Malloy linage possessed. Unfortunately for him that notion vanished the year he turned eighteen, when he was deemed an adult and yet far heftier than anyone in his ancestral line. It seemed Scorpius was cursed with his father’s height and his mother’s curves, making him impossibly large, really. Add in his utter lack of restraint and it was no wonder he stood in the Ministry lobby four stones heavier and in robes that pinched the fleshy part of his upper arms, no less.
‘Excuse me boy,’ a portly man spat, making him startle. He smacked Scorpius with his briefcase as he squeezed by, giving him a proper glare before striding off.
Scorpius stepped away from the oncoming traffic, surrendering his hiding spot. He looked up ready to steal one last glance across the way only to find Albus Potter staring back.
Green eyes met grey, and Scorpius hastily darted his gaze to the side.
Oh, Salazar.
‘Scorpius?’ Albus called. He watched Albus’s grin broaden as he ran across the lobby, not caring that he was receiving a multitude of disgruntled looks from Ministry officials. ‘I thought it was you!’ he said, coming to a stop in front of him. He looked genuinely pleased, his smile crooked and endearing. He raked his fingers through his hair, making it even more tousled than before.
Scorpius tried not to get swept up in the litany of freckles across his friend’s sunburnt cheeks.
‘How - er, how have you been?’ he managed to croak out.
‘I've been well!’ Albus beamed. ‘Where have you been all this time? Hiding out in the Ministry? Do you work here?’
Scorpius’s foolish heart thumped loudly beneath his chest. ‘No, I - I have an internship,’ he stumbled. ‘Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects,’ he rattled off quickly. He awkwardly fumbled with the large stack of papers in his arms as he moved to glance at his watch. ‘Oh, Salazar,’ he swore, catching the time. ‘I’m sorry, Albus, but I need to go. If I’m late, my supervisor will have my head.’
‘A stickler for rules, I take it?’
‘To put it lightly,’ he sighed. ‘Honestly, she puts McGonagall to shame.’ He stumbled again with the stack of papers, almost dropping them in a flourish to the floor.
Albus took out his wand and uttered an incantation, charming the papers to arrange themselves into a neat, organised pile.
‘Thank you.’
‘Don't mention it.’
Scorpius shifted to the side.
Albus bounced on the balls of his feet.
‘So, erm,’ Scorpius started.
‘I was wondering,’ Albus said simultaneously.
Scorpius felt himself blush.
‘If you aren't doing anything tonight,’ Albus continued, ‘maybe we could grab dinner? It'd be great to catch up.’
‘…Dinner?’ Scorpius repeated.
‘Yeah,’ Albus chuckled. ‘You know, the meal that usually comes after lunch….’
Scorpius – curse him – just stood there. Blinked.
‘There’s a pub around the corner with half-priced pints on Thursdays,’ Albus continued, not deterred by Scorpius’s obvious lack of social skills. ‘If you’re not averse to sloshed uni students and some truly awful karaoke, I can meet you here at, say, seven? We can walk over together.’
‘…Karaoke?’ Scorpius questioned, once again stupefied by the wording on his tongue.
Albus chuckled. ‘Get going,’ he said, with a gentle shove to his plush middle. ‘I wouldn’t want you late on my account.’
Scorpius’s eyes went wide. He glanced down at his watch again. ‘Oh, bugger,’ he cursed. And with that, he hurried off to the lifts.