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Albus could pinpoint the exact moment when Scorpius’ obsession with Muggle Christmas elves had first started. They’d been walking through Hogsmeade one dreary Saturday afternoon in early November, when Scorpius had suddenly yelped and darted across the road. He’d been drawn to window display of the new Curious Muggles shop that had opened in time for the new school year in September. It was an odd shop, absolutely packed full of Muggle things, from simple items like ballpoint pens, ring binders, and magazines with no moving pictures, to more complicated electronic items like calculators, telephones, and laptops. Albus couldn’t understand the fuss himself—although it was useful to have somewhere to buy stationery from this century—but pure-bloods like Scorpius went absolutely mental for it. It had always been a fairly busy shop whenever he’d seen it, but that day it had been absolutely heaving.
“Isn’t it wonderful!” Scorpius had exclaimed, jumping up on his tiptoes to peer over the tops of the crowd around the shop window. Albus had scowled at the sea of shoulders in front of him and then glared pointedly at Scorpius. He wasn’t short—he was, in fact, distinctly average—it was everyone else that was unnecessarily tall, his best friend included.
He had waited for Scorpius to offer further explanation, arms folded across his chest as the crowd jostled around him, but then the crowd around the window parted slightly and Scorpius grabbed him by the scarf and dragged him through the tiny gap.
“Look! Oh, what’s that? And that? And, oh my, isn’t that so precious?” Scorpius’ gaze had flitted across the window display and he’d swatted Albus on the arm every time something new caught his attention.
“What do you mean? It’s just a normal Christmas scene—Santa, elves, reindeer, penguins, it’s hardly ground-breaking,” Albus had grumbled, feeling increasingly irritated by the people pushing and shoving and Scorpius’ incessant tap tap tap on his shoulder. Okay, so it was sparkly, and the model of the Hogwarts Express winding its way through a Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, and Diagon Alley constructed entirely from lego bricks was a little impressive, but he’d seen a lot of Muggle Christmas displays in shop windows around London and this was…well, comparable.
“Elves? Elves!? This is what Muggles think elves look like?” Scorpius had cried, eyes alight with wonder and no small amount of disbelief.
…and so the obsession had begun.
It had started small—just a few innocent questions here and there—but in the space of just a few weeks, it had rapidly snowballed and now Scorpius was sat doing his potions homework on Albus’ bed with elf slippers on his feet, an elf soft toy at his side, and wearing a Muggle Christmas jumper with a picture of an elf on it.
They usually preferred to do homework in their dorm rather than the library or common room because it was quiet and limited the chance of getting accosted. Of course, now that they were in a relationship, there was the added benefit of being able to break for a kiss or five every so often, as long as they didn’t get too out of control. There was a degree of privacy, but they obviously couldn’t lock the door without drawing the suspicions of their dorm mates. However, after years of putting up with James respecting very few of his boundaries, Albus had perfected a sticking charm for doors that would stop anyone from bursting straight into the room and would give them the chance to disentangle themselves and find a book or pillow to cover any…obvious signs of arousal.
Well, they had been doing homework, but for the past hour, Scorpius had been trying to convince Albus to go to the Yule Ball, something which they had both already agreed was a stupid waste of an evening. Not only was it school-endorsed ‘fun’ (which Albus couldn’t stand out of principal), but it was also fancy dress. Of all the hellish situations Albus had found himself in, a school fancy dress party would surly top them all.
“Come on, Albus, please?” Scorpius whined. Albus could tell from the high pitch of his voice that he was nearing the end of his patience. He knew if he could hold out for just a little longer, he’d win and they could move on to more interesting things. Like snogging. They’d not done any of that since lunchtime when Scorpius had dragged him into a quiet alcove.
“No,” Albus replied without looking up from his text book. Over the years, he’d found it was much easier to resist Scorpius if he didn’t look at him.
“I’ll do your transfiguration homework for a week.”
“You already pretty much do it,” Albus said, slowly turning to the next page and continuing his pretence that he was thoroughly engrossed with the chapter on the properties of Bicorn horn.
Scorpius huffed out a breath and threw his hands into the air. “Fine, then I’ll stop helping you with it.”
“No you won’t.” Albus smirked. Scorpius was becoming desperate.
“No, you’re right. I can’t do that to you. Um…Oh! Chocolate Frogs! You love them, and my dad always gives me a boxful for Christmas. They’re all yours if—”
“Scorpius,” Albus sighed, closing the book and giving Scorpius his full attention, “I don’t care how many Chocolate Frogs you buy me, I’m not going to the stupid ball and I’m definitely not dressing up as a fucking elf!”
“But—”
“You want me to wear tights, Scorp. Tights! They leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.”
“I don’t know what you’re worried about. I happen to think your legs are lovely. Very…shapely. Nice to look at.”
Albus ducked his head to hide the blush he could feel blooming across his cheeks “That’s…that’s fine. Good, even. But can’t you…you know, enjoy them in private? Why does the rest of the school need to see? And Lily will be there, with that bloody camera no doubt. She’ll never let me live it down! She’ll probably get life sized posters printed.”
“Everyone’s going to be dressed up, it’s not like it’ll be just us.”
“Yeah, but no one else is going to be dressed as a bloody elf! Anyway, I thought we already agreed we weren’t going to go to this stupid ball. It’s not like we can actually do anything—wouldn’t it be better to just hang out here? No interruptions…?”
“But—” Scorpius started, but then he deflated. “No, I guess you’re right. It was a stupid idea. I suppose I just thought it would be a bit of fun.” He clutched the plush elf to his chest and pouted, staring sadly at the pompoms on the curled toes of his slippers.
Albus squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed a hand over his face. He felt really shitty for disappointing Scorpius—he hated being responsible for the despondent look on his face, but he just…he couldn’t dress up as an elf. Did Scorpius not realise how much people would laugh at them? He didn’t want Scorpius’ night to be ruined by people mocking them so it would be better to avoid it altogether—Scorpius would understand that eventually.
An uneasy silence descended between them as they both turned back to their books.
———
Albus couldn’t concentrate on the thick potions text in front of him. He kept thinking about how upset Scorpius had looked. Every time he let out a sad little sigh or sniffed, Albus jerked his head up, expecting to see him in floods of tears, but he was just clutching that ridiculous stuffed elf and staring at the book in his lap. Albus had bought the elf for him as a joke, which in hindsight was a bit of a miscalculation on his part since it had only fuelled Scorpius’ weird obsession, but he’d looked so cute hugging it in the shop that Albus had handed the money over to the shopkeeper without even engaging his brain. He glanced down at his trunk, thinking about the elf mug, elf socks, and elf themed stationery set he’d bought Scorpius for Christmas and realised that he may actually be a little responsible for the obsession. It wasn’t his fault—Scorpius looked so adorable when he got excited about something, it made his chest flutter and his blood flow away from his brain, so it was very hard to make rational decisions.
After an hour of not being able to concentrate on his homework and generally feeling like warmed-over shit, Albus couldn’t take it any longer. He slammed his book closed, startling a faint yelp out of Scorpius, and tossed his homework to the floor.
“So…um, you really think I have nice legs?” he asked.
Scorpius’ brows drew together, likely due to the abruptness of the question which had come out of nowhere. “Of course I do!” he said emphatically, looking slightly upset that Albus might not have believed him. “They’re the best legs! My favourite legs to look at, in fact. And touch. Since that’s a thing we can now do.”
Albus felt himself blush again. The physical part of their relationship was still very new, and part of him still couldn’t quite believe it was happening, so when Scorpius said things like that, it made him feel a little light-headed. He clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip to try and prevent a giddy smile from erupting on his face.
“Thanks. Um, your legs are nice too,” he added hastily. Always pay back a compliment, his Gran said. Also, Scorpius was fit and had legs that Albus could worship for days.
It was Scorpius’ turn to blush now, a beautiful deep pink starting at the tips of his ears and spreading across his cheeks despite the admittedly low quality of Albus’ compliment. He shut his book, carefully set it to one side and shuffled down the bed, closing a bit of the distance between them. “Are they better than Blondie’s from the Lumpy Frogs?” Scorpius asked with a glint of humour in his eyes.
Albus rolled his eyes. “Aubrey Desaan from the Horned Toads, which you know full well. And yes, they’re loads better than his.”
“Yeah?” Scorpius got a curious look in his eye and Albus felt a finger of dread trace down his spine. No good ever came from that look.
“You like the old skin tight t-shirt and ripped jeans look, don’t you?”
“Where’s this going?” Albus asked slowly, his eyes narrowing.
“Hmmm, I’ve been thinking of giving my wardrobe a bit of an overhaul. I want my clothes to be less pure-blood fashion elite, and more dashing rogue.”
“You what?”
Scorpius ignored Albus’ question and tapped a finger thoughtfully on his lips. “I need a haircut soon too—perhaps I’ll ask father to take me to a Muggle barbers and they can get it nice and short around the back and sides with one of those buzzy snip snip things. I’ll keep the length on top of course, perhaps get some product in it to flick it back off my face, or maybe leave it loose and wear it swept across one eye. What do you think?”
“I…I…” Albus’ jaw flapped uselessly as his brain conjured up image after image of what Scorpius was describing.
“And I’ve alway wondered what I’d look like with a lip piercing. Father would probably go spare, but there must be a wizarding way to make it temporary. I wouldn’t want to harm my chances getting a job after school, after all.”
“What are you on about?” Very little blood was making it to Albus’ brain now, and he was struggling to focus on anything other than the way Scorpius now rubbed a slender finger back and forth across his lips as if deep in thought.
Scorpius smiled sweetly, but his eyes were calculating. “If you dress up for me, I’ll dress up for you. Quid pro quo. Fair’s fair. Like for like. However you want to hear it.”
Albus’ brain stuttered to a complete halt. “You’ll go to the Yule Ball dressed like Aubrey Desaan?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Scorpius laughed, tossing his head back delightedly. “Of course not! It’s Christmas fancy dress, you silly Niffler!”
Albus’ heart sank. “But…but you said—”
“I meant, if you dress up as an elf with me for the Yule Ball, then I’ll dress up as Aubrey Desaan for you, at a time of your choosing. Am I making myself clear?”
The bottom dropped out of Albus’ stomach, and he couldn’t remember how to speak, but yes—a thousand time yes—was all he could think. He launched himself at Scorpius in lieu of finding the right words, crushing their lips together and tumbling them to the mattress in a tangle of limbs and tongues.
Before they could get too far, the door handle rattled followed by a muffled thud from the other side. Scorpius leapt back from Albus and scoop up his books, opening the top one and quickly producing a quill and parchment from somewhere. Within seconds he looked perfectly innocent, like he’d been studying the whole time. Only the tell tale heaving of his chest and flush on his cheeks suggesting anything had been happening. Albus, feeling red-faced, flustered, and very, very aroused, grabbed a pillow and squashed it down on his lap before running a shakey hand through his hair as if that would make any difference to its overall appearance. Moments later, the sticking charm wore off and Deryck and Cyrus burst through the door, muttering about damp wood and the stupidity of using such a material in a dungeon under a bloody lake. They acknowledged Albus and Scorpius with a polite nod and then proceeded to ignore them in favour of their own conversation.
Scorpius leaned into Albus’ space, a knowing glint in his eye. “So, you’ll be an elf with me?” he whispered.
“Yes, fine.” Albus rolled his eyes. “I’ll be a bloody elf with you. But you owe me.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” Scorpius smirked and then returned to his homework, ever the master of compartmentalising his emotions.
Albus shakily Accio’d his potions book from the floor and spent the rest of the evening reading the same paragraph over and over, unable to stop imagining Scorpius with a lip ring, leather jacket, and ripped jeans. Merlin. Dressing up as a Muggle Christmas elf for one night was a small price to pay for the endless entertainment that particular imagery would provide.