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Albus, Meet Albus: A Play in One Act

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A/N: We’re going to get meta, real meta. Fans of “Hot for Teacher” and “An Indefinite Amount of Forever” (also known as the “This Is Everything” series) by MotherofBulls and “Confessions” by SaintDionysus, love one, Albus Severus Potter. Well, we are mutual fans of each other’s Albus. One hilarious day, we thought, “Wouldn’t it be funny if young Albus met his adult self?” So it happened. There are some funny little easter eggs for fans of both stories and maybe even some foreshadowing in our respective projects.

HOWEVER...please don’t take this play to be a perfect overlap of either story. It cannot be considered canon for either “Confessions” or for “Hot for Teacher” (and beyond). This story is more of a ‘dude, what if…’ kind of nugget. You know the type. Do not think that what you read in these pages will pop up in “An Indefinite Amount of Forever”, which is currently a WIP. (God, you're such a lawyer. Closing up every loophole, technicality, and possible cause for confusion...)

(ignores Cat and stands up on a ledge, shouting commentary into the distance) Forged in the fires of friendship, silliness, a mutual admiration for a character who definitely falls on the psychopathy spectrum (probably somewhere safely on the end that doesn’t murder their parents), and a willingness to just go for it , this story has at the very least brought joy to its authors. We hope it brings joy to you all.

AND NOW, without further ado, SaintDionysus and MotherofBulls invite you to sit back, relax, and enjoy, Albus, Meet Albus: A Play in One Act.

Grab your popcorn. Actually, don't. We don't want to be responsible for any choking.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction using characters and entities from the Wizarding World trademarked by J. K. Rowling. MotherofBulls and SaintDionysus take no responsibility for any accidental choking, soda and/or other liquids sprayed through reader’s nose, incontinence, or breakage of electronic devices caused by laughter.   (Okay, Cat. That one, I can’t even take credit for. Seriously, I’m rubbing off on you.)

Eh, breaking the fourth wall is fun. On with the show.


 

Albus, Meet Albus: A Play in One Act

Written by MotherofBulls and SaintDionysus


 

SCENE 1: ALBUS POTTER’S FLAT

Albus Severus Potter, now twenty-five, looks down at the time-turner in his hands. He’s tall with lean muscle, wearing a grey t-shirt with some ironic phrase on it, exposing tattoos down his arms and the back of his neck, ripped jeans, and scuffed boots. He looks over to his very pregnant girlfriend sleeping and smiles. He kisses her on the cheek and she smiles without waking.

Albus: I’ll be right back.

He walks out of their bedroom and into their living room hoping not to make any noise.

Albus: Fuck. I can’t believe I’m doing this again. (Scratches his head) Twenty-Twenty. Here I come.

He spins the time turner and the world swirls around him.

 

SCENE 2: HOGWARTS

Instead of landing at his desired location he finds himself in one of the courtyards of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Albus: This is not Glastonbury. (inspects the grounds closer, narrowing his eyes) And... those little shits are definitely not The Last Shadow Puppets.

He rolls his eyes at the horde of unruly teenagers and notices his younger self with his best friend. Adult Albus laughs at the sight.

Adult Albus (hereinafter ‘AA’): Right year, wrong location. I hated this place when I was here. It’s even worse as an adult. Alright. Time to get out of here before someone sees me and it inspires them to start a war in Belgium one day...or Donald Trump becomes Minister of Magic, or something like that.

He starts walking toward one of the secret passages that lead to Hogsmeade so he can move safely to an apparition point. In the corner of his eye, he sees Young Scorpius leave Young Albus (hereinafter ‘YA’), and YA is now walking toward him alone.

AA: (bites lip contemplatively, as if debating doing something he really shouldn’t be doing) Ah, Fuck it. This should be fun.

YA almost misses the adult version of himself casually leaning against the stone wall.

AA: Hey, Little Me. Recognize me?

YA whips his head around to meet his future self. It doesn’t take him long to realize who is in front of him.

YA: Whoa. This is just like when younger alternate reality Spock met the older version of himself in the 2009 reboot.

AA: (rolls eyes and mutters under breath) Fuck, I was such a nerd.

YA: How’d you get here?

AA: Time Turner. But I am also skilled in long-distance apparition, which is how I intend to get out of this cesspool of teenage hormones.

YA quirks his eyebrow.

YA: I’ve long suspected something like this might happen.

AA: (shrugs) Naturally.

YA: And I’ve got some questions.

AA: I would assume so.

YA: (pulling out a notepad) Girls. How does that go for me?

AA: (smirking widely) Two words. Polly Chapman.

YA: (grimaces slightly) No. Fucking. Way.

AA: Yeah. She might be all knees and elbows now, but give her a few years to sprout and she will have some smashing T&A. She’s also...Amazing. In every way possible. (realizing he was getting far too sentimental and didn’t want to appear uncool in front of his younger self, he changes the subject.) Don’t worry, you’ll forget all about Monica Flint’s overzealous mouth once Polly—

YA: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second. When you refer to Mon’s “over zealous mouth”… what do you mean by that?

AA: ...Come on, kid, keep up.

YA: (breathing deeply) I’m just going to ask. (clenches fists and holds them tightly against his body) At any point, will I get a blow job from Mon?

AA: (smirks) And Gemma Hale.

YA: (grasps hair, eyes widening) Oh. My. Fucking. God.

AA looks casually at his fingernails and polishes them against his t-shirt

YA: Mate, you have so many tats.

AA: Yeah.

YA: (points to notepad) That’s another question I have. Trek tat?

AA rolls up sleeve

YA: (smiles to himself) I am so fucking cool.

AA: (rolls eyes) I think that depends on your definit—

YA: But dear God, do you have to be such a goddamn hipster tool? (takes in AA’s ripped jeans and T-shirt)

AA: (scowling) Hey. You might be a hipster tool but you're also rich and (smirks)... sort of famous in your own right. No more riding on Mummy and Daddy’s coattails.

YA: What does that mean?

AA: Juuust keep on developing your palate, Little Me.

YA: You know, I don’t love that name. Nor do I love that shirt you’re wearing. It makes you look like a plebeian.

AA: (rolls eyes) You're a snarky little shit, aren't you?

YA: Yeah, I have a feeling I don't grow out of it. (leaning in and whispering, eyes narrowing seriously) So uh...tell me… (smirks) James is bent, isn’t he?

AA: (leaning in) You know, we can't say "bent" nowadays.

YA: So is that a yes?

AA: Merely an admonishment. (winking)

YA: (smirking) My, but you are a fantastic arsehole.

AA: You really should watch your mouth. You’re never going to develop your vocabulary if you rely upon profanity to communicate your thoughts.

YA: (smirks) Fuck you.

AA: (shakes his head) Youth. No respect, these days.

YA: (eyes narrowing critically at the older version of himself) So, are you one hundred percent sold on that haircut?

AA: Merlin, don’t you start. I get enough of that from Scorp.

YA: (sneering) So he never grows out of the hair thing, does he?

AA: (eyes rolling) Are you kidding? He gets worse. But I think he reached his peak around sixth year. (assumes a wide-eyed countenance, obviously meant to be an impression of Scorpius) ‘When I find out who used the last of my Morroccan oil, I am going to crucify their mother!

YA: (smiling fondly) He does get violently overprotective over his arsenal of hair care products. (sighs) It’s in those moments he’s the most fun. (looks seriously at AA) I assume it was I who used Scorp’s Morroccan oil, wasn’t it?

AA: Oh, indubitably. Do you smoke yet, by chance?

YA: No. And neither should you if you want us to live long and prosper. It’s a disgusting habit.

AA: (smirking) Not really the sort of smoking I’m talking about, Little Me. (pulls out a joint)

YA: (eyes widen, begins manically turning pages in his notebook, as if he was unprepared for this particular development) Wait, wait, wait. So you're telling me I bone hot chicks, get a Star Trek tattoo, travel through space and time — and to top it all off, I’m some sort of casual stoner who offers drugs to children?

AA: (nodding, exhaling) Although, I must say, the word ‘stoner’ is a bit gauche. I prefer to say ‘Master Herbologist’. And I don’t offer drugs to all children. You’re a special case, my friend.

YA: (eyes shining with admiration) Corrupting the young and impressionable… (he sighs) You truly are everything I hope to be, if not also just a little bit of a wanker with appalling fashion taste and an atrocious haircut. (eyes widen suddenly as a thought comes to him) Fuck. I don’t suppose I also get to do all of this without finishing Hogwarts?

AA: (wagging a finger comically at YA) Now, now. Your education is of utmost importance and yes, you need to attend all seven years in this hell hole. But, Albus, my friend (exhales smoke, doesn’t even cough, (such a pro)) it’s not all bad...I cannot impress upon you just how much arse you're going to get.

YA: So...when does all this arse-getting begin? I’m assuming before I decide to get that haircut.

AA: (ignores YA’s quip) How old are you?

YA: Fourteen

AA: (claps him on the shoulder) Soon, buddy. Real soon.

YA: (grinning) Wicked. (cocks eyebrow) So, not to be rude—

AA: (snorting) As if you’d ever care about that.

YA: —But why exactly are you here—if you’re so busy with your sex life and your travels and your alleged fame?

AA: Be nice, or I won’t impose any wisdom upon you?

YA: Do you have any?

AA: You know, I just saw you here, and I thought to myself, ‘Now that’s a rare opportunity.’ It’s not often the situation arises to impart one’s wisdom on a younger version of oneself. How could I possibly pass that up?

YA: Fair enough, but all you've really done is just brag from the moment you've shown up. I know I’ve said it already, but you're a bit of a wanker. (pauses, nodding head) I quite like you.

AA: Of course you do. You’re me. And I’m you. And if there’s one thing you’ve never wanted for, Little Me, it’s love of self. And I’m not sure you realize what a hot commodity that makes you. You might not realize it now, but most people your age bloody despise themselves on some level. Or at the very least they don’t trust themselves. Also, work on your chocolate sauce recipe.

YA: Why?

AA: Make sure it’s not too sticky and...it should also be a little runny.

YA: That’s preposterous! How do you expect it to stick to ice cream? What is wrong with you?

AA: (Slaps his forehead) Nevermind. You’re too young to know. Merlin, I forgot how worked up I used to get about recipes I disagreed with. (exhales) And honestly, I’m realizing now that this is sort of a waste of time. Most people always say, "Oh, if I knew then what I know now." But you don't need that. You understand enough. More than most people, I’d say.

YA: (eyes narrowing dangerously) I understand everything.

AA: (sighs) Yeah, you don’t. But you’re alright. Although... I should probably warn you right now. Be nice to Monica if you fancy your nose the shape it is now

YA: Why?

AA: (shakes head) I've said too much. Plus you're a shit anyway. You should probably get knocked down a peg or two.

YA: From where I’m standing, it looks like I need to get knocked down again.

AA: (snorting) How very Gryffindor of you to say so.

YA: (eyes sparkling dangerously) You take that back!

AA: (grinning) Sure, you have your house rivalry now, but let me tell you this. Gryffindor girls are the absolute most ferocious in the sack.

YA: (pulls out his notepad, muttering to himself while writing) Make...sure...to ask...Scorpius...about this.

AA: Why the hell do you think Draco married your godmother? Oh, by the way, prepare for some emotional scarring regarding some very conflicted feelings about Hermione.

YA: (shrugging with a worldly look in his eyes) Been there already, mate. (smirking) So she’s...like a fine wine you’d say? Better with age?

AA: God yeah. (looks around) But please, Merlin, don't tell Draco I said so. Or Dad. Or Mum. Alright, Little Me—

YA: Stop calling me that.

AA: (smirks) It’s been real. But I need to get out of here and check out The Last Shadow Puppets at Glasto.

YA: You came to the past just to — wait a second, are you saying they break up? (panics slightly)

AA: They’re a side project, so technically they never “broke up” but, yeah, this is their last live gig. And Miles becomes a goat herder. Makes great cheese. So this is the last time anyone will see them together in public.

YA: (scowls) Thanks for breaking my heart, arsehole.

AA: Well, I need to get a gift for my lady. A ‘push present’ if you will.

YA: Not following.

AA: Don’t worry. You will one day.

He looks puzzled and isn’t sure he wants to know any more about his future.

AA: Alright, I have a date with Miles Kane and Alex Turner.

YA: They have the coolest names…

AA smirks suggestively.

AA: Later, Little Me. Don’t fuck up my past. I really like my life.

YA: So should I start being nice to Polly now?

AA: NO! Don’t change your attitude with her at all. It won’t happen for another ten years. I swear to Salazar if you fuck this up—

YA: Aaannd...I’m pussy whipped.

AA: (smirks) Damn straight. And it’s the best. Later, Little Me.

AA tucks behind a statue and heads down the secret passage. Coincidentally, at that moment a skinny, Gryffindor girl with medium length blonde waves and big brown eyes walks toward YA.

Polly: Hey Al.

YA: (chuckles) Polly Chapman.

Polly: Who were you talking to just now? He’s hot.

YA: (shrugs) Just some tosser. Gotta go. (He bolts and tries not to look back.) Fucker was right. Her tits and arse are coming in. Fuck. Ten years is a long time...until then...blowies from Mon and Gemma, here I come…(sighs) I disgust myself.

 

SCENE 3: GLASTONBURY FESTIVAL PYRAMID STAGE, BACKSTAGE ARTIST AREA

AA (well...now I guess he’s sort of the only Albus left, since presumably YA went to class or something...so we’ll just call him Albus). Now you’re thinking, how does this fucker get to the artist area. He’s a wizard. Confundus charms, naturally. It’s easy since quite literally everyone drunk and stoned.  

He has his smartphone out and records a video of two men, one lanky with long hair and a pointed face, the other man, has a shaved head with a bit of a dopey, loveable disposition.

Miles Kane: Hello Miles Alexander! Hear that Alex, my name is first.

The pointy-faced man crosses his arms and scoffs.

Alex Turner: Your dad says you jump around in your mum’s belly every time you hear our music, so they’re naming you after us.

Miles: Great name for a lad.

Alex: Alright little man, we’re about to go on stage. Be good to your mum and dad when you grow up.

Miles: Bye!

Albus: Thanks, mates. She’ll love it.

Alex: Stay for the set.

Albus: Wouldn’t miss it for the world. (He says coolly, until they take the stage and address the crowd.) Oh, good they can’t hear me. I can properly fanboy now. Oh. My. Fucking. God. Polly is going to flip. Stay cool. They’re just guys...and the band you’ve idolized since you were nine...

 

SCENE 4: ALBUS POTTER’S FLAT

Albus arrives back at his flat as if no time has passed. Polly is still asleep, giving him time to edit the video. He fires up his laptop and sees a video of himself he doesn’t remember recording. He clicks play.

Albus: You were right, arsehole. She was worth the wait. Almost fucked up a few times and got pretty close to asking her out at school, but I didn’t. Instead, I added to the list — Evangeline Teller. She was a seventh year, you were a fifth year. You’re welcome. Now go take care of our baby mama.