Rainbow Illness [Albus]

[nova hypatia vector]

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July 7, 2028

Albus Potter was an idiot. A clueless, hopeless, idiot. He had come over to her flat a handful of times over the last few months to partake in her side hustle after the two of them had their little discussion in the front of the bakery that fateful day earlier in the year. Nova had extended an offer to him: that if he wanted to unwind from his 'super serious' Auror job every once in a while, her flat was a safe place to do so. That alone wasn't exactly uncommon, as she'd had various buyers that she considered her friends do so before. Rue had come by once when the two of them were testing chocolates, and Mina had done so a few times as well. It was all good fun.

But Albus Potter was different. Nova had been trying to whittle him down for a while now. To crack open his weirdly defensive, but awkward, shell. His sister wasn't like this at all, almost annoyingly to the other extreme. She didn't know his brother at all really. The worst part of it all? She was growing slightly attached. The fact that she wanted to be the one figure him out had become a game. Every time he'd visited after the first had increased her excitement. Now she was infatuated with him. Nova wasn't sure yet if it was because she was doing something illegal with a supposed authority figure (which Albus was not, in her eyes), or if it was because she had a tiny crush on him. Maybe it was a bit of both.

"Do you want more?" she asked Albus, reaching for the bottle of red wine that she seemed to be polishing off faster than she meant to. Liquid courage did wonders. She hadn't even brought out the edibles she'd made earlier in the day, not really seeing a need for them yet. Carefully, and drunkenly, pouring her wine glass until it was almost full again, she offered the same to her guest. "You need to loosen up more, Albus," Nova shook the half-full bottle at him from the other side of her small couch. "No one likes a wand in the mud."

Albus Severus Potter ● 369

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[Albus Severus Potter]

don't speak too soon.

IT WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA, REALLY. THE WORST kind of idea he'd probably had since he punted untested potions on his student body in third year. And yet, he kept going back. Again, and again... and again. Maybe it was because his head of office seemed to be breathing down his neck since he graduated from his internship. Or, the sheer amount of red tape he had to walk through just to get a criminal to the Wizengamot. It was less about throwing the bad guys into Azkaban, and more about proving he hadn't accidentally stood on a convict's big toe after he'd cast Incarcerous on a runner. At the end of it all, the pot kind of helped.

Nova appeared to have zero interest in how Al spent his days at the Ministry. She didn't seem to think it was cool, she didn't ask leading questions about how many cases he was juggling. In fact, she was so lackadaisical sometimes that Al wondered why she had even invited him to begin with. He wondered often if she even liked him. Spending their time instead asking questions he didn't really understand her interest of, like his favourite flavour of Bertie Botts, or the worst dream he'd ever had. This was the kind of self-flagellation he imagined she sort of enjoyed watching him run through, so maybe that was why she kept inviting him back. That, or she was really, bloody bored.

Sitting back against her ridiculously comfortable couch, Al felt like he was sinking into the cushions the more wine he drank. He'd nearly pulled out a clump of his own hair earlier that day, fighting with Hartley, a secretory from the Wizengamot. She had taken great pleasure in returning every one of his case parchment rolls with so much red ink it looked like she'd used it to stab him with it first. His signature wasn't in the right box, his statement papers were not printed in the correct shade of fucking sepia #415, or whatever it was. Either way, he'd needed the glass of wine Nova had given him the minute he'd stepped foot into her cosy little flat above her bakery.

"I probably shouldn't..." Al had mumbled without conviction around a thick, stained mouth. His tongue blood red as it dashed out to wet his dry lips. She was sitting close enough that he could smell the scent of sweetened dough and powdered sugar that seemed to perpetually accompany her. They weren't even high at this point, and Al rubbed his eyes and wondered when he'd stopped asking for the infused cookies and instead just... sat with Nova. She wasn't horrible company, in fact she'd become like a sort of balm. So far removed from his miserable day that it was like an alternate reality.

Her voice threaded between his fingers and he peeked from between them with the ghost of a smile. "If I 'loosen up' anymore, I might fall asleep on-" He shifted on the cushions, slapping at the fabric arm once and tried to pull his heavy head out of the backrest. "-on this bloody ridiculously comfortable couch." He huffed a sigh and turned his head to look at where Nova sat on the neighbouring cushion. She had her knee up and was turned toward him, draped over the cushions like some kind of oil painting. "My wand is not in the mud," Al grumbled half-heartedly, but he took the bottle of wine she was shaking at him and poured himself another glass. "You're a horrible influence." He told her with a leading look from the corner of his eye.

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NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

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Shouldn’t and wouldn’t were two completely different declarations. Nova knew a little nudge here or there would get him to pour more wine. Whether or not he drank it, well, that was up to him. She didn’t think she’d get through the entirety of the glass she’d just poured herself either. With how little had been left in the bottle though, she really didn’t want to have to plug it back up again. Being the bad influence felt good to her, and even Albus was starting to outwardly admit it too. All she could do was nudge him bit by bit.

She raised her eyebrows at him as he started to complain about potentially falling asleep on her couch. Because that was totally where she wanted him to fall asleep. The funny part was that he wasn’t wrong. The couch was unbelievably cozy, maybe even her favorite piece of furniture she owned. There had been plenty of nights where she had passed out on it after drinking a bottle of wine by herself. At least she had someone to share it with now.

She had seemingly convinced him to drink more though, smirking to herself as she watched the last of the red wine pour into his glass. ”And you’re horrible at resisting.” Albus Potter had been given every chance to hop off over the last few months. Yet he always came back for more. What even were they? Friends? Contemporaries to drink and get high and blow off steam? These were the sorts of things that popped into her head frequently during the nights they met up. On top of everything else she was trying to figure out…

”So…” Where was she going with this? Her mind was already starting to race, but only because Albus had mentioned sleeping on her couch. ”I wouldn’t mind if you stayed,” Nova said quickly. Her grip tightened on the stem of her wine glass. If they had been cheap, she may have accidentally snapped it then and there. Merlin, the wine was talking for her!

Albus Severus Potter ● 343

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0