Today Albus Severus Potter is probably miserable with his family, curled up in a corner trying to hide from James. It’s been a noisy, overwhelming day, and he’s ready to go to sleep so it’ll all be over.
Today Scorpius Malfoy is probably trying to be unobtrusive, not overexcited, and as helpful as he can be, because his mum deserves to have a nice day when she’s ill, and his dad doesn’t need any more trouble.
It’s not the Christmas either of them would have wanted, but it’s the only one they have.
But amongst everything there’s a small glimmer of light, because nestled amongst the other presents under their trees is the first gift either of them has had from a real friend.
Scorpius saves his for last. When he gets it out from under the tree he holds it reverently in both his hands, careful not to drop it. (He wrapped it up in his favourite jumper and tucked it safely in his trunk on the way back from school.)
In a way he doesn’t even care what it is; just the fact that he has it is enough. It’s a real present, from his real best friend. Albus cares enough about him to buy him something for Christmas!
He unwraps it as carefully as he can, keeping the paper perfectly pristine, and when he does he gives a quiet squeak of delight because it’s perfect. Albus is perfect. He’s given Scorpius a beautiful hardback book about the history of St Mungo’s, which looks absolutely fascinating, and a bumper pack of Pepper Imps.
Scorpius spends the rest of the day reading about the healers who founded the hospital, and occasionally spouting smoke from his ears. He’s still going when his mum comes to wish him goodnight.
“I’m amazed you have any of those left,” she says, nodding to the pack of Pepper Imps on the bed beside him.
He smiles and shuts the book. “It was a big bag... Are you okay?”
“I’m alright.” She perches on the edge of the bed beside him. “Albus is a good friend, isn’t he?”
Scorpius looks down at the book then hugs it to his chest. “I think he’s the best.”
“I’m glad you found him,” she says, ruffling his hair.
“Me too,” he murmurs, stroking his fingers down the front cover. “Me too.”
Albus doesn’t leave his present under the tree. He keeps it locked in his trunk under his bed, not wanting anyone to interfere with it. He doesn’t trust James.
After dinner he sneaks away while everyone is playing Exploding Snap, and hides in his room. He sits cross-legged on his bed and holds the present in his lap, just staring at it, and smoothing his fingers over the wrapping paper, which is patterned with snowflakes that swirl round and round. After a few minutes he shakes himself and starts tearing the paper off.
Scorpius has given him a pack of Chocolate Frogs (the accompanying note reads: ‘Sorry if any have your dad on. If they do I’ll trade you!’), and a silver potions knife with an emerald set in the hilt (‘I permanently borrowed this from my dad’s collection — with permission. I hope it’s okay’).
Albus stares down at his gifts, then he carefully rewraps them in the paper and tucks them back into his trunk, not a moment too soon. There’s a knock on his door that makes him jump.
“Albus?” That’s his mum’s voice.
“Yes?” He calls back.
The door opens and she appears on the threshold. “You are up here. I noticed you’d disappeared. I was worried.” She steps into the room. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”
Albus hugs himself. “I’m fine,” he says. “It’s just loud downstairs, and... I wanted to open my present from Scorpius.”
“Oh! He got you a present! I didn’t see one under the tree.”
“No, I...” Albus gives a little shrug. “I didn’t want James to mess with it.”
“Oh...” his mum sighs. “Albus... We wouldn’t have let him touch your presents.”
Albus bows his head, suddenly feeling very stupid, and rather warm in the face. “I know that, I just thought- I wanted to keep it to myself.”
Ginny nods. She hesitates for a moment just inside the room, and Albus doesn’t know if he wants her to come closer or not. “Do you want me to bring you any dessert?” She asks. “Before James eats it all?”
Albus shakes his head and sinks onto the edge of his bed. “No, that’s okay. I’m still full from earlier.”
“Well, if you change your mind...”
Albus glances up and manages a small smile. “I’ll let you know, thanks, Mum.”
She pauses a moment longer in the doorway, then strides across and bends down to give him a tight hug. “I hope you’re having a good Christmas,” she murmurs.
Albus closes his eyes and squeezes her in the tightest hug he can manage. He thinks about the potions knife, the pack of chocolate frogs, and the note offering Albus a trade for his cards, which might mean most of all.
“I think it’s okay,” he whispers. Everything feels a bit more okay knowing that his best friend is out there somewhere.
