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Jinxes, Bets, Hexes, and Thorns by Emccentric
Chapter 3 : Being Me is a Danger Hazard
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 4

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Disclaimer: I own many things, but Harry Potter isn't one of them.

A/N: Your reviews, your favorites (does that make any sense?), your critiques, everything blew me away. How you think this story is funny and even good is beyond me. I'm not going to ask. However, I'm open for complaints if the update is too slow or maybe inadequate.

HPFF staff was so quick to put the site up and running again that I can't help but to give a box of cyber donuts for each one of them. Without them, you probably wouldn't know this fic ever existed. Shall we move on?

GinnyPotter25's chapter image brings all the boys to the yard and makes me flail. Flails flails flails!


by Scorpius Malfoy

Fact #1: I was too bloody good-looking for my own good.

Fact #2: Now I had officially abused the letter O.

Oh well.

Okay, no more.

This was getting sort of annoying.

Shit, I did it again there.

Yay! I didn't use that wretched letter anymore!

Wait a second… crap.

This internal monologue had stopped making sense long ago.

You know what, never mind. Fuck this. I was going to use O repeatedly, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Even my name had an O on every single part of it. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. See? I bet you hadn't noticed that before, had you?

No more pointless internal monologues, and I meant it this time.

"Malfoy! Stop daydreaming, for Merlin's sake, and find the goddamn Snitch! Gryffindor match is right around the corner, go!" bellowed Pritchard Nott, the team captain, without even looking at me as he avoided a passing Bludger that was being thrown back and forth by the two Beaters.

When Kane Vaisey threw the Quaffle, intending to pass it to a fellow Chaser only to get it snatched away, Nott cried out sarcastically, "And you just lost the Quaffle. Great job, Vaisey, great job! Why don't you just hand the stinking ball over to the Gryffindors then, since you make it that stinking easy?"

I resisted the urge to scoff and roll my eyes. Pritchard was crazy. If I didn't know better, I'd have believed it if someone told me he had more eyes than a three-headed dog. Nott had his back turned when the incident with Vaisey happened, so how he found out was beyond me.

"Oi Beaters, less talking behind my back and more hitting Bludgers, yeah?"

Pritchard Nott: Completely Mental Son of a Bitch.

"Malfoy, don't make me drag your precious Loretta Higgs here and make her Slytherin's new Seeker. You know I bloody mean it. By the way, I'm not completely mental; just insanely alert."

Mind fucked to the core.

Hey, I thought I saw a flash of gold near my forehead.

What do you reckon, even Snitches were attracted to me.

Making a grab for it, I realized it was just my hair sparkling under the sunlight.

I felt like an utter idiot.

Good, Nott was laughing now. His insanely alert being had probably told him about what had happened.

Pritchard Nott: Insanely Alert Son of a Bitch.

Hair sparkling under the sunlight reminded me of that girl, Joan. How her brunette hair revealed red streaks in daylight, how her blonde one sparkled as beautifully as mine did. My hair sparkled marvellously, thank you very much. I couldn't help being a fabulous son of a bitch.

Unlike Pritchard Nott, who was an Insanely Alert Son of a Bitch.

Speaking of him, I should go find the Snitch now before he replaced me for my current girlfriend. How embarrassing would that be?

Let me answer that one for you: very.


The rest of the day was spent with searching for the hint of blonde hair amidst every flock of students wrapped in bronze and blue scarves.

The only blonde Ravenclaw I found was the lunatic-beyond-repair Lorcan/Lysander Scamander, who was trailing behind a disgruntled-looking Professor Longbottom to babble about combing the mistletoes for Nargles.

There was, however, the time before dinner where I was looking for Al (for a change) and found him in the library, facing a bookshelf, his eyes glazed over, and the corner of his mouth dripping drool.


"Oi, what are you—" He cut me off by throwing himself on me, covering my mouth with his hand.

What. The. Hell.

I seriously failed to understand everything Al did nowadays. Everything he did since this fateful noon, actually, but the bloke didn't start out one hundred per cent sane, anyway. I had to admit, his awkwardness only added to his… erm, appeal.

Not that I didn't have any crush on him or anything. Our relationship was very much brotherly. People would call it bromance, if I weren't mistaken. Never erase the B. Capische?

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you off your fucking rocker?" I screamed out through his hand.

"Albus? Scorpius?"

I knew that voice. And that voice spelled doom. Because that voice belonged to none other than Joan.

My life just got better by the second.

"What are you doing… in the library… on the floor… you on top of… oh. So you're both… I should go… I won't tell anyone, don't worry."

I was the first one who recovered first. "No Joan, this isn't what it looks like."

Stupid Albus could only stand up and stare in horror at her.

Let me tell you something; everything about him was stupid. Stupid green eyes, stupid teeth, stupid hair, stupid last name, everything about him were stupid. What kind of last name was Potter? Sounded like someone who smoked pot, or someone who looked more like pot than everybody else.

Should I start on his first name? His nickname was all right, Al, but then people was just going to assume his first name was Alex or something. No, his first name was Albus and people would realize they were wrong and everything would be awkward.

This thing he just did only added to his stupidity, not appeal. There was nothing appealing about tackling your friend to the ground, making both of you seem gay and in love. It was appalling.

"Three of you! OUT!" the ancient Madam Pince (she was probably older than half the books here) snapped. She was so mad; she threw a book at Al's head. For a rotting old woman, her aim was impeccable.

He would have toppled over and crashed into a bookshelf, causing more mayhem, if I hadn't been there to catch him.

Somebody better give me the Special Award for Services to the School for it.

Joan erupted in laughter once we were out of the library. I lifted an eyebrow at her but said nothing. Whatever words I could say were stuck in my throat.

"This is actually my first time being kicked out of the library," she admitted, eyes glinting accusingly despite her smile.

"S-sorry Joan," Al stuttered.

I was starting to believe he was the reincarnation of Quirrell.

"Don't be. It was sort of exciting, breaking the rules."

Even Albus stopped walking and gasped. After all, Ravenclaws who laughed at being thrown out of a library and thought breaking the rules was exciting only came once in a lifetime.

"I have to put away my stuff in my room. I'll see you two at dinner?" she continued as if she hadn't heard us.

"See you there, Joan," I said. As dumbstruck as I was, I fared way better than Albus.

She stopped around the corner. Looking at us, she smiled and said, "Just call me Jo."

"We're on nickname basis now?" Al asked in disbelief.

Then he started hyperventilating.


"Pi!" came the voice of Loretta from the Entrance Hall, loud enough for everybody in the Great Hall to hear.

I banged my head against the table.

Putting aside the fact that she embarrassed me in front of the staff and students, I did not like her new nickname for me.

She pronounced it as 'pee'.

Damn it woman, she thought I was bloody urine.

I banged my head against the table again.

"Lorry," I replied through gritted teeth.

"Don't say my name like that!" she shouted. "Lorry is a form of Muggle transportation. I don't want anything to do with Muggle things."

Excuse me? Who the heck abused my name in the first place? I should have been the first one to complain here.

"In case you haven't noticed, the way you call me Pi makes me feel like piss."

"But that's how you pronounce it, duh! Score-PEE-us. What do you expect, calling you Pie?"

"Um, yeah. At least it's better than Pee, isn't it?"

A scoff. "As if you're that edible!"

"What did you say? I'm not edible?"

And the best thing about the conversation was that it transpired when we were at different ends of the room. Yeah, we were basically yelling at each other across the Hall, with the whole school listening in.

All in all, it was the usual day in the flawless relationship of Scoretta. Be jealous.

The dinner crowd dispersed one by one, and as the evening wore on, Al stepped out of his House table to sit beside me.

"Pretty awesome argument back there, mate."

So he had returned to his almost normal state. Thank Merlin. I didn't think I could handle being with Albus-in-love for one more bleeding millisecond.

"You can talk again now. Good."

He chuckled. "Joan—I mean, Jo—was out as soon as she finished her meal. I got my sanity back at that point."

"You were stalking her?" my voice got higher with every syllable that Al had to clap his hand over my mouth again.

"Just… observing," he reasoned. I didn't buy it one bit.

Something suddenly clicked in my head.

"What you did in the library, you were stalking her, weren't you?"

The blush colouring his cheeks confirmed it.

"Too bad you can't have her," I piped up.

He glared at me, those green eyes burning. "Why not?"

"You can't even talk normally around her. Do you really think she, or any girl for that matter, would want to date you if you have the speaking ability of someone paralyzed? At least I can form a sentence or two."

"But you already have Loretta!"

I sneaked a glance at Loretta who was talking to her friends, making sure that she wasn't listening, and whispered, "I'm breaking up with her."

"Scorpius, you can't be serious!" Al cried.

I covered his mouth with my hand this time.

"After that, I'm free to hook up with Joan. She hadn't been with anyone before, had she?"

He shook his head vigorously. "I doubt it, but you can't have her."

"Why?" I inquired, raising my brow. Somehow, I liked how this conversation was going.

Albus' green eyes shone dangerously. "Because she's mine, Malfoy."

"I bet I can get to her first."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Tell you what," I offered. "The one who gets Joan's kiss first wins. Deal?"

"Is that a bet?"

"What do you think, Potter?" I gave him the trademark Malfoy sneer.


We shook hands, and bolted out of the Great Hall.

The same thing was on our minds: time to assemble a team.

A/N: What? You can't expect them to do this singlehandedly, can you? Any guess to who their partners in crime might be? Even though I already have them mapped out in my head, it'd be fun to hear your thoughts and why you think the person/people is suitable to help Albus or Scorpius out.

If you expect an Albus/Scorpius pairing in the end, be prepared to be disappointed. That's me killing off any possible hope of slash. Don't hate me.

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