Albus wasn't sure how this had happened. There was no denying Albus' innate competitive nature. His father was a star Quidditch player in his day and his mother - well, she was a Weasley. That pretty much explained it all. But the last thing he wanted to do was attempt to beat Scorpius Malfoy in a race around Hogwarts on broomsticks. Everyone knew Scorpius had a faster broomstick. And Scorpius was a seeker on his Quidditch team - they were supposed to be ridiculously fast. Albus and James were chasers, which meant they were better at dodging team mates and bludgers than they were at speed racing.

Albus was doomed and he knew it. And he hadn't even started it! He hadn't even agreed until James mentioned something about dung beetles in his underwear for the next month (having beetles crawling around his private bits was not exactly his idea of a good time.)

It all started when that git Malfoy started boasting that he was the best Quidditch player in the school. He was the fastest and he could do better than anybody else. Unfortunately, James had been around to hear it. James was a hot-head like their mother and wouldn't stand for it. So he'd said something along the lines of, "Malfoy sucks, Albus can kick your ass, Potters are the best, blah blah blah." James knew he couldn't beat Malfoy in a race; he was tall and lanky with broad shoulders. Not exactly streamline material.

So he'd volunteered Albus, and Albus couldn't refuse the challenge.

Now he stood on the Quidditch pitch, dressed in his Gryffindor Quidditch gear with his broomstick in hand. He glared at it. His parents were stupidly rich and yet they insisted he save his allowances to buy his own things. All Malfoy had to do was ask. And that was why Albus had some stupid hand-me down broomstick that had more notches in it than Ed Zabini's headboard and Malfoy had the newest, top of the line, Lightbeam 650.

Life was so unfair.

"Ready to eat dirt, Potter?" Malfoy strode up beside him with his shiny broomstick with its shiny footholds and its shiny polish and perfectly straight bristles. Albus clenched his teeth together. What did you say when you knew you would lose?

Damn James. He was going to a special hell, and Albus would make sure he knew it.

Speak of the Devil, James sidled up to his brother and threw his arm around Albus' shoulders. He pulled his brother away from Malfoy and out of earshot before leaning in and whispering.

"We both know that you won't win this unless you play dirty," James said, gripping his brother's shoulders. "So the first chance you get, kick his broomstick out from underneath his smug ass."

Albus glared indignantly at his brother.

"I'm not going to cheat," Albus hissed. Sure, he didn't want to lose. No one wanted to lose - but he might as well lose with his dignity intact. "If I cheat, then I'm no better than him!"

"Albus, dear brother, you are so naive," James muttered. "Do what you will, only win. I have two galleons on you to win and I want them back."

Great, Albus thought. Not only was his brother a boasting, conniving cheat, he was a boasting, conniving, cheating gambler. Yes, James certainly did the prodigious name of Gryffindor and his Head Boy badge proud. Honestly, Albus didn't know how James hadn't been sorted into Slytherin.

"Albus!" the familiar voice of the youngest Potter came screaming across the field as Lily flew across the pitch and pulled up next to them. Albus stared at her shiny broomstick with considerable envy.

"Lily, please, please let me borrow your broomstick," he begged, glancing over to see if Malfoy was watching. It wouldn't do for a Slytherin to see him grovelling. Thankfully, Malfoy was busy talking to his cousin. Albus brow furrowed as she giggled and Malfoy turned a bright red.

"No," Lily answered, sticking her chin in the air. "I saved my money. You'd have a new broomstick, too, if you'd listened to me and saved your allowance instead of spending it all on dung bombs and chocolate frogs."

"Just once?" Albus pleaded.

"Albus, you're my brother and I love you, but you're an idiot for going through with this. Therefore, no," Lily sighed, pulling off the scarf that was tied around her neck and alighting on the ground. Albus began to mouth blackmail to his sister before James elbowed him sharply in the side and all hopes for a bit of sympathy were dashed. Still, Lily looped her arm around his and pulled him away from James towards the end of the pitch where the race was going to start.

The rest happened very quickly; insults were thrown, brooms were mounted, and then Lily tossed her scarf in the air and they were off.

It wasn't long before Malfoy had a considerable lead and Albus was staring at the Slytherin crest on the back of Malfoy's robes in frustration. They looped around the pitch, weaved in between the goal posts and the stands and flew over the heads of their spectators, both boys pushing their broomsticks to their limits. It was as they were looping and weaving that Albus managed to catch up to his green and silver foe and he came up alongside him.

There was a moment where Albus was tempted to thrust his foot out. He was close enough and Malfoy was only staring straight ahead - oddly, since even in races and games, there was always an insult bandied about between the two. It would only be too easy to kick the broom right out from beneath him. But as they soared higher into the air and further off the pitch, Albus merely tucked his foot in tighter and pressed forward.

They'd left the pitch now and were skimming the lake, the water gleaming and reflecting off Albus' tinted goggles. A tentacle broke the surface and reached for them, but Malfoy shot left and Albus went right and they both narrowly avoided being Giant Squid lunch. The squid slapped along the surface, though Albus wasn't sure if he was being playful or if he was frustrated that he hadn't managed to catch himself dinner on the go.

Then the exhilaration hit him. They were nearing the center of the lake and it was completely open. The wind whipped his robes around him and he couldn't help but lean back a little and enjoy it. There was a reason the Potters were good at Quidditch and it was that they loved to fly (although Lily seemed scarily enthusiastic about bludging, even though she was a Seeker.) It was pure freedom and there wasn't any way they couldn't enjoy it, even when they were neck and neck in a race that might just end their reputation.

As Albus glanced over at his opponent, he saw that Malfoy seemed to have the same sense because the other boy had slowed down considerably - enough so that Albus managed to get a few feet ahead without even trying. Albus craned his neck to look back and caught Malfoy just as he looked away; as though he'd been staring at Albus without trying to seem like he was staring. Not sure what to make of it, the Gryffindor shot forward towards the Forbidden Forest, lowering himself so that his toes were only a few inches off the ground.

Malfoy dropped in beside him and soon they were weaving in and out of trees. This would be the hardest leg of the race; not only did they have to contend with overgrown foliage and narrow paths, but the beasts that lurked in the forest's shadows were nothing to be trifled with. This was Albus' territory and it would make or break his chances of winning. If he could get far enough ahead, there was a chance (a slim chance) that he could make it before Malfoy caught up.

They passed over a pack of hunting wolves that yelped and howled at the sight of the two boys. One ran behind them, nipping playfully at the ends of the broomsticks and making Malfoy wobble a little before it could no longer keep up and was lost in their dust.

The undergrowth was just as dangerous. Albus found himself passing underneath giant roots and through tree branches to get through. At one point, Malfoy disappeared entirely, having gone a different route. A jolt ran through Albus and he sped up, afraid that maybe Malfoy had gone above the trees. It would be hard to break through the canopy, but not impossible and if that were the case, Albus was as good as done.

But soon enough, Malfoy came bursting through a patch of overgrown bushes, waving his wand in front of him to clear his way through before it disappeared back in his sleeve.

And that was when they saw it.

"Acromantula!" Albus shouted, nearly too late. There were six of the giant spiders feeding on - well, Albus didn't rightly know what anymore and he didn't care to find out. Albus moved to go around them, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Malfoy shoot upwards. Instinctively, Albus gritted his teeth. "Idiot," he murmured, dodging one of the spiders as it raced after him, its venom-dripping fangs snapping.

Raising himself as high as he could go without smashing into a plethora of branches, he kept his eyes peeled for Malfoy. There was no way that the Slytherin could've broken through the canopy of the forest in this part of the woods. It was so thick that you nearly needed a light to see by. Once out of range of the deadly spiders, Albus slowly ground to a halt, his eyes searching in the dark to see if Malfoy was going to pop up anywhere (hopefully safe - he didn't really want to be caught up in the mess that would come about if he had to explain to the headmaster that Scorpius had been eaten by spiders.)

It took a moment and Albus was nearly ready to go back just to be sure when there was a great cracking above him and Scorpius unceremoniously dropped from the sky (or at least, a few branches above Albus.) Malfoy's broom hit the ground before he did and Albus had to swerve to the right to break the Slytherin's fall - which subsequently ended up with both of them sprawled on the ground, one on top of the other, with a sharp broomstick jabbing into Albus' backside.

"Ow," Scorpius grumbled into the folds of Albus robes, grabbing fistfuls and trying to push himself up but getting his legs tangled in some branches he'd brought down with him. Albus groaned, his head now splitting and the world swaying slightly. Albus shifted his legs and kicked the other boy off him so that he could roll off his broomstick.

"Son of a manky troll," Albus swore when he pulled his broomstick from the tangle of bushes they'd landed in. It had splintered and split in two and there was no amount of spellotape in the world that would put the bits and pieces back together (at least, not in a fashion where the broom would still be rideable.) With a thump, Albus sat down on the nearest log, clutching the bits of broom. "Good going, Malfoy."

"Wasn't my fault," Scorpius argued, thrashing about as he tried to dislodge a large branch from his boot laces. Albus rolled his eyes and stood up, carefully setting his broomstick aside (maybe it could be salvaged... somehow.) He knelt down at Malfoy's feet and began pulling the bits and pieces of wrapped foliage out of the other boy's boots.

"You went up. Who goes up?" Albus snapped back. Okay, so maybe he was a little bit irritated. The bloody git had broken his one and only broom. Briefly he thanked Merlin that Lily hadn't loaned him her broomstick. He would have had to buy her a new one and that would have just been humiliating.

"You always go up!" Scorpius bit back, wrenching a twig from his sleeve and glaring at Albus.

"Yeah, unless you're in a forest. Were you even there for flying lessons?"

"Yes, but I seem to recall a certain Gryffindor sabotaging the lessons by letting two bludgers go," answered Malfoy. Suddenly Albus laughed.

"Oh yeah," he said as he recalled the incident with fondness. Okay, he had to admit that he did have his occasional streak of mischievous. Usually it was spurred on by his older brother. In fact, he was pretty sure James was the one who had gotten the box that contained the Quidditch balls. "One hit you in the -"

"Yes, exactly," Scorpius grumbled. Finally clear of twigs and branches, they both got to their feet. Malfoy scanned the ground quickly and found his broomstick buried in a nearby bush with a few fresh scratches but nothing more. Albus glared. Go figure. Spectacular Malfoy with his stupid spectacular broom manage to go unscathed and he's the one with a broken broomstick and bruised tailbone.

"You're going to have to give me a ride back," Albus said, though he wasn't too keen on suggesting the idea. He had no idea how far into the forest they were and chances were, he'd get eaten before he ever escaped the damn jungle. Malfoy, clearly, was appalled by the idea.

"Are you crazy?" Malfoy asked, his voice raising an octave as though the idea were more horrifying than the gaping jaws of the Acromantula.

"Uh, no?" Albus said slowly. It wasn't a great idea, but it wasn't that bad. He could've suggested something like, 'You broke my broom, so I'll take yours and you can walk home.'

"Honestly, Potter, use your brain for a minute. We both go into the forest on separate brooms, come out on one?" Malfoy said, his face growing more flushed by the minute. "You realize what that will look like, don't you?"

Albus was about to say that Malfoy was barking mad but then he did pause to think about it and he could feel his own cheeks grow a bit hot. "Oh."

"Exactly," Malfoy grumbled as he brushed his pants off. Albus tilted his head and stared at Malfoy. They wouldn't think that of them, would they? How could they? Malfoy and Albus were bitter rivals. It was the least likely thing to ever happen. The most he would get was flack for breaking his broom. They wouldn't even think that something else had happened - would they?

Now he was imagining James' reaction and he knew that was exactly what James would think, because that's just who James was.

'It's no surprise, really,' he could imagine James saying. 'What with Uncle Charlie and Louis. Fags run in the family. I always knew you were one.'

Albus sat with a thump back on the log and put his head in his hands. Finally he sighed. "It could be worse. Besides, there's nothing for it."

Malfoy straightened and gave him an odd look. It was like the one he'd given Albus when they'd been flying over the lake but - different. For one thing, he wasn't looking away. It was intense and fiery and... slightly angry.

"We're not coming out of the forest like that together," he said adamantly, sitting across from Albus.

"Well," Albus said thoughtfully. "We could fly to the edge of the forest and then come out on foot."

Malfoy was quiet for a moment before he answered. "Fine."

And so it was, as Malfoy fit his feet into the holders and Albus sat behind him. All at once, both of them realized that it was an incredibly awkward position. For one thing, there were no foot holds for Albus to put his feet in, so the only way he could maintain any sort of balance was by wrapping his arms around Malfoy's waist and praying for his life.

"Nothing for it," he mumbled and suddenly Malfoy stiffened. "What?"

"Stop talking," Malfoy said sharply.

"Why?"

"You're tickling the back of my neck," he said slowly, as though he were trying to keep his composure. Albus couldn't rightly see his face, but he could see that even the back of Malfoy's neck was turning red. Albus couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" Albus said, trying to stifle his laughter. He wouldn't normally have laughed except that the entire situation was just so ridiculous. He snorted. "Afraid you'll like it too much?"

"That does it!" Malfoy slid off the broom and snatched it out of the air, pulling it out from underneath Albus. The Gryffindor promptly tumbled to the ground and onto his back so that he was staring up at Malfoy and the tree tops. A sharp pain shot through his tailbone and he groaned, closing his eyes for a minute.

"Okay, okay," Albus mumbled, opening one eye and then the other. Malfoy was clearly fuming. His face was as red as a tomato, his eyes were blazing and he had his arms folded over his chest. In fact, Albus couldn't say he'd ever seen Malfoy look so intense. Albus slowly pulled himself to his feet, wincing. "Sorry, that was -"

"You're such an idiot," Malfoy hissed.

"I know, I know," Albus grunted. Suddenly Malfoy grabbed a hold of Albus robes in his fists and Albus couldn't help but shut his eyes, preparing for the fist in his face. It wasn't the first time Malfoy had punched him. Back in their second year they'd gotten into a scuffle over a botched potion. Albus had gotten the upper hand that time, but they were pretty evenly matched and Malfoy had a scary powerful right hook.

But instead of a fist, there were lips. Malfoy lips. On his.

His eyes flew open and he was staring at the just there freckles spattered across the bridge of Malfoy's nose. And then Albus responded. Not in the way he should have, which was with fists and shoving and angry words and insults, but instead he was kissing him back. Albus Potter was kissing Scorpius Malfoy. And like his right hook, Scorpius was scary good at it. He was gentle and intense and his hand went to the back of Albus' neck and did some twirly thing with Albus hair that felt kind of cool.

Albus had never had jelly knees. It was something of a dangerous trait among Potters - they weren't afraid of anything. This meant that Albus had never been weak at the knees about anything - not dragons, not Quidditch feints, not giant Acromantula. But in that moment Albus felt incredibly light headed and a little bit weak. He was sure that he was going to fall, so instead of pushing himself away from the thing that was making him weak and getting proper support he grabbed onto Malfoy's shoulders and pushed himself against the other boy.

Eventually, Scorpius disentangled himself from Albus, which prompted the only response Albus could think of.

"Whoa."

Scorpius was still flush and his eyes were still ridiculously intense and Albus quickly realized that wasn't anger but something altogether different and slightly scarier. They were breathing heavy, as though they'd both ran the entire length of the race instead of flew, and though Albus had tried, he failed to steady his shaking hands.

"What - you - did - um..." Albus couldn't seem to manage a cohesive thought. What did he say? What did it even mean?

"You are such an idiot," Malfoy said with a roll of his eyes.

"So... did you plan this or something?"

Well, at least no one could claim Albus was smart in times of great stress.

"Yes, Potter, I planned everything. Nearly getting eaten by giant spiders, flying up which you were so kind enough to point out was wrong, and breaking your broom - it was all part of my plot to seduce you," Scorpius answered, using his broom to steady himself. He may have talked the big talk but he looked just as bewildered and half-crazed as Albus did.

"I knew it," Albus mumbled, but a lazy grin came to his features. "Seduce me, huh?"

"Shut up and get on the broom," Malfoy grumbled. Albus couldn't help himself. As Malfoy put his foot in one of the holds, Albus came up behind him and whispered in his ear, "Which one?"

In the end, they didn't come out of the forest for quite a while and when they finally emerged - walking - they were both flushed and extremely tired. James came up with wild stories about how Albus had fought the Acromantula and saved Malfoy's life, which somehow resulted in the broken broom and how Potters would always be better than Slytherins or some such, but only Albus and Scorpius would know the real story and they weren't about to tell.