A/N: This is rated T because this kids grew up with Ginny Weasley as their mother. Do you really think they'd have a clean mouth?

"Admit it. You love him."

The boy in question scowls. The girl in front of him stares, unimpressed, and for a third year Hufflepuff it's pretty intimidating. He supposes it's only because she has Ginny Potter as his mother. But, as he idly tries to keep his fingers from twitching, he thinks that he has the same blood running through his veins. And as her fifth year Slytherin older brother, he thinks he can take her on if he needs to.

So Al bites out, "I'm sorry, you must be looking for a different person. I can direct you to the Ravenclaw dormitories if you like, however." But he must be losing his touch, because he can hear a twinge of bitterness in his words that he wishes he could put back in himself. Where it belongs. Somewhere deep in his stomach, and he reasons that he must have ate something funny in breakfast and this was the result. Or maybe it was lunch? Or, he thinks as his paranoia kicks in, someone might have poisoned his secret stash of lemon drops.

No. There's a reason why it's called his Secret Stash of Lemon Drops.

And it's not because he demands capital letters every time they're mentioned.

Lily, poor dear, probably doesn't understand why his eyes suddenly glazed over. She turns her head as if she's expecting someone to suddenly hold her hand and tell her to run. Al thinks it's stupid. There's a reason why her name is Lily and not Rose. And it's because she's not blonde. He rolls his eyes. His head hurts. Oh, doesn't James want to be a Healer? Never mind if his older brother is only seventeen. He has to know some stuff, damn it. If only he could sneak into the Gryffindor dorms. Well, actually he could. Scor likes to give him the passwords so he could both satisfy his need to break in to places where he shouldn't, and they so they could talk. Win-win.

He doesn't want to, though. Either that means Hugo finally got to him, or he really doesn't want to see his best friend. A shiver runs through him. It seemed a little preposterous a few fifteen minutes ago, but since he never actually sees Hugo around, it's the only possible conclusion that doesn't include Death Eaters with the Imperius curse or Voldemort with a new soul or Loki brainwashing him with that scepter from Avengers. He finds it sad that the idea isn't as farfetched now as it was.

Oh. Lily's staring at him. Might as well try to get her to sod off.

"Sod off," he says, pushing past her as he walks away. But Lily, because she's Lily, refuses to act like her boyfriend broke up with her unexpectedly and acts like the girl who won't let him go. So she catches his arm, forces him down so she can look him in the eye, and Al's eye twitches because she didn't have to push him down much. He's two years older, damn it, he should have more than a few inches on his sister!

And Lily, darling Lily with puffed-up cheeks and determined hazel jewels for eyes, is his sister, so naturally she senses his distraction and slight fear. Her eyes narrow and he thinks, lovely, like he isn't about to be horribly mutilated or murdered or maimed or become dead meat. He kind of regrets not telling Scor about things that he can't think right now or else Lily will smell them and pull the I'm so awesome I knew it! card she's been pulling since she was born. She pulls it like she got a Royal Flush. Sometimes, she pulls his hair like that too.

"Al," she says.

"What," he says.

"You fucking idiot," she says.

"How dare you fucking swear at me," he says.

"Stop trying to change the fucking subject," she says.

"I think we're going to be late for those, actually," he says.

Lily snorts as if it isn't true. He shrugs as if that didn't just happen. Al supposes they're lucky he likes walking along empty corridors whenever he can find one. Still, if he is going to be late, might as well it be History of Magic. He was planning to skive off, anyway.

"Al," she says.

"We've been through that already and my knees hurt," he remarks.

And Lily, the gall, just laughs and she pulls away from him. "You know," she giggles, and whoa, what, Lily never giggles, "you sound like you were forced to give me a blowjob." And maybe, just maybe, Al laughs too and forgets all about Scorpius and Jane Woodcrass and his blue eyes trained on hers and her brown eyes trained on his and all of that Not Jealousy and Not Heartache.

Maybe.

"Andandand Al, come on, you can't actually think you're threatened by Woodcrass, right?" Lily grins, and probably doesn't notice his smile looked a little forced, suddenly. She continues on. "Okay. You are. You really are. You didn't think I didn't notice, right? You've gotten moody. I thought you were pregnant, actually."

"Lily, I am a boy. I can't," Al drawls, and she doesn't notice. Typical Lily.

"Ah, who cares? But anyway, you were getting sad and mopey and snarkier than usual. Which, okay, not a word. Don't care. Who's listening. Wait, out of topic. Back on my a-game. I am back on my a-game. Where was I?"

Al sighs. Suddenly he knew why Dally-Wally-Shan always drooped his ears whenever Lily was around. He sympathized.

"Right. So I noticed you were looking at Scorpius in this dopey 'why-can't-I-ever-have-him' gaze and that you suddenly hated Woodcrass for no reason. Which is fine by me. She's kind of a bitch-prude. If Scorpius ever goes for her, I'm punching him in the balls. You know why? Because I hate Woodcrass. But also because he didn't go for this guy who's really in love with him."

He winces. Lily doesn't notice.

"He has the boy right in front of him, you know? He's made straight guys and lesbian girls question their sexuality. He's beautiful and smart and funny. He's brilliant at Potions and Charms and is an awesome Quidditch player. He makes everyone smile and then he blinds you with his. He's amazing. And Scorpius kinda loves him back."

He cringes and everything looks hazy. "Who...what's his name?" Al asks in a quiet voice that he vaguely realizes isn't anywhere close to what he actually is. He sounds hopeless.

Maybe he is.

Lily just grins and hugs him. He makes this Not Sob and hugs her back. So he holds her a little tighter than usual, so what? He'll get through this. Somehow.

The girl in his arms says, muffled in his chest, "You know him pretty well."

Al makes another Not Sob. "Pretty sure I'd kill myself if it was James."

"Oh, don't," Lily says, and he wonders why it sounds like she's about to cry. "You really don't get it! You don't see it! Or, you know, maybe you do, you just think it's for some other reason and you don't deserve it! Well, here's some news for you, bro, but you really do. I'm not just saying that. Scor's a lucky guy."

"Hey," Al says, because only he gets to call Scorpius Scor. And because he doesn't have anything else to say. So he also blurts out, "Hey, what about that other guy?" and hopes it was a legitimate and reasonable question.

Lily snarls and pushes herself away from him.

Okay, probably not.

"Let me lay down the cold, hard facts. Scorpius has been looking at you with the exact same brain-dead 'why-can't-I-ever-have-him' face you've recently been wearing ever since forever, okay? He gives you his Gryffindor scarf when you're cold. He doesn't hesitate to hug and hold you for a minute longer than necessary. For Valentine's, he noticed you were alone and transfigured Professor Greengrass' hat to a rose and gave it to you. He's not afraid to kiss your hand, cheek, forehead, whatever as a joke or not. He knows more about you than me or James could ever hope and we live with you. He holds your hand. He immediately knows when you're feeling down even when your acting skills are as polished as they've ever been. He smiles at you as if you're his only. He looks at you as if you're more than whatever the world could possibly hope to be.

"You know how I kept on describing that one guy Scorpius thinks is the best thing since Chocolate Frog cards? Yeah. Have I mentioned that he's Scorpius' best friend since that first train ride, is a Slytherin, and not James? Have I mentioned that he's my nerdy, gay, snarky, smart, sassy, deserving, bookworm, Whovian, punk-ass little bastard I'm proud to call my brother?

"Albus Severus Potter, you got ninety-nine problems, but some bitch named Jane Woodcrass ain't one." And Lily stops, breathes, and actually smiles. Then she walks away, leaving her brother grinning goofily in silence.

A/N: Dally-Wally-Shan? Check out Pet Shopping for background on that one.