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The Three Broomsticks was packed. End of term always did this—students crammed into every booth and corner, clutching butterbeers like lifelines while parchment sprawled across tables. A sixth-year Ravenclaw muttered Transfiguration theory into her mug. Two Hufflepuffs argued over Potions ingredients, voices rising. Someone's Astronomy chart slid off a table. Nobody picked it up.
O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s loomed. The panic showed in white knuckles and unopened textbooks.
Yet Albus Potter sat across from Scorpius Malfoy, watching his boyfriend arrange dice into perfect rows beside a folded game board. A stack of parchment teetered at his elbow.
"They're late," Albus said, watching the entrance.
"Hugo's always late." Scorpius nudged a pewter figurine a millimeter to the left. "Probably got distracted by someone's Wizards' Chess match."
"Or Lily dragged him to Honeydukes first."
"Or that."
The door banged open. Hugo shoved through the crowd, Lily trailing behind. She was mid-sentence, gesturing with a rolled-up scroll.
"—but what if I completely blank on the Patronus theory? What if Flitwick asks about the 1637 Charm amendments? What if—"
"Lily." Hugo ducked around a harried-looking Slytherin. "You'll be fine."
"You don't know that!"
"I know you've rewritten your Charms notes three times. Trust me. This'll help."
"A board game will help with my O.W.L.'s?"
"No. But it'll help with the stress of your O.W.L.'s."
Lily looked unconvinced. "Easy for you to say when your only concern is which Forth Year end-of-term tests to wing or actually study for."
He didn't dignify her with a response. Or didn't care. Either way, it didn't stop them from reaching the table.
Scorpius waved. "Hello! So glad you could make it!"
"I'll never miss a new campaign," Hugo said, dropping into the chair beside Albus.
"Where's Rose?" Albus asked.
Lily sat, rolling her eyes. "Not coming. Miss hotshot Head Girl nearly hexed Hugo's ankles backward for even asking her."
He frowned. "Merlin—seems a bit much, even for her. Everything alright?"
"'Course not." Hugo smirked. "Studying for her N.E.W.T.'s has her a bit more test-y than usual."
Albus snorted. Scorpius chuckled. Lily groaned.
Scorpius unfolded the game board across the table. A sprawling city map, with motorways that looked more like tangled spaghetti than anything else, was divided into even squares. He placed four blobby gray figurines in square B5. Beside them: a car of similarly underwhelming size and shade. Thumbing through parchment, he handed a sheet to each person.
Lily squinted. "Character sheet?"
"Yeah," Hugo said excitedly, filling it out already. "Can't play a role if you don't make a character."
"Oh! Fun!" Lily grabbed her quill. "I'm thinking a druid. No, wait—a cleric, or maybe a warlock who—"
"No, Lily!" Scorpius chided. "You can't be someone with magic!"
"What? Why not?"
Hugo scoffed. "Because we're supposed to be Muggles, Lily. Don't you remember what I told you earlier?"
"I thought you said it's in the Muggle world. You know, the same way we are. Not that we have to be Muggles."
"Well, we do. There's no magic here. So make someone normal."
Lily huffed. "Fine—can I at least have a funny-sounding name?"
Albus thumbed over at Scorpius. "Depends on what the DM says."
"The who?"
"The Designated Manager." Scorpius straightened. "What name were you thinking?"
"I was thinking of this thing I've seen Muggles do," she started. "Sometimes they spell normal names... uniquely. To make their children stand out. Can I show you what I mean?"
"Sure."
She flipped her parchment over and wrote down a small list of perfectly normal names—then their very not-normal alternatives beside them.
Scorpius' smile faded as Jordan became Jeordynn. Michael became Mykeul. Alice spelled Ahliss...
"Merlin, I've seen enough." Scorpius grimaced. "Sure. Just—don't show me how you spell it on your sheet."
She smiled. "Thank you!"
Hugo had already filled half his sheet. "Chad," he announced. "He lives in a flat he pretends he's able to afford. Drives a car he definitely can't afford. Spends most of his salary on teeth whitening strips and telling people he's vegan even though he ate a kebab last Tuesday."
"Why would he lie about being vegan?" Lily asked.
"Because people think it's interesting."
"Is it?"
"No. That's the point."
Scorpius nodded approvingly. "Excellent character depth. Well done, Hugo."
Albus was next. He scribbled quickly. "Brendan. Likes to work with... I don't know. Something with numbers. Owns two dogs. Walks them on the beach every morning at six."
"What's his personality?" Lily asked.
"The dogs."
"That's not a personality."
"It is for Brendan." Albus set his quill down. "He brings them to outdoor cafés and waits for women to ask about them so he can try and get a date. That's his entire social life."
"As wonderful as always, dear." Scorpius looked delighted as he wrote with careful precision. "My turn: Greg. His main skill is networking."
Lily looked up. "Just networking?"
"Yeah."
"...Do you know what that is?"
"It's when you—" Scorpius paused. Frowned. "You meet people in a way that might be useful later. You know. For... work purposes."
"What kind of work purposes?"
"Professional ones."
Lily stared at him. Albus rubbed his temple. Hugo grinned into his parchment.
"Right." Lily turned back to her sheet. "So he just talks to people."
"It's more complex than that," Scorpius said, gesturing vaguely in the air with his quill. He couldn't seem to elaborate.
Lily gave up trying to press further. She wrote in silence for a minute before finally saying, "Done."
"Let's hear it," Hugo said.
"Miriam." She made sure to say the name normally, despite it's very not-normal spelling. "She's fifty-three. Used to paint when she was younger—really loved it, actually—but her family told her art wasn't practical, so she went into finance instead. Now she's been working at the same firm for thirty years and sometimes she looks at her office and wonders if she can ever go back to her true calling..."
Scorpius didn't look up from his sheet. "No."
Lily's face dropped. "What?"
"Too much backstory. And the existential crisis mechanic doesn't apply until Level 8."
"Level 8?"
"You have to earn character depth," Hugo explained. "You can't just start with it."
"That's ridiculous."
"That's the rules," Albus said.
"But—she has motivation!" she protested. "Internal conflict! An actual arc."
"The rules explicitly state that player characters can't have fulfilling personal narratives until they reach Senior Management tier," Scorpius said. He was reading directly from a handbook now. "Page forty-seven. Subsection C."
Albus gave her a sympathetic look. He'd tried to make a character with hobbies, once. Scorpius had cited the same page.
Lily crumpled the parchment, grabbed a new one, and stared at the blank space where Myreeahm used to be.
"Fine." She wrote quickly and angrily. "I'll make Kayleigh. She's an... influencer who works in HR. She jogs and takes pictures of herself jogging and posts them for strangers to see. That's it. That's her entire life."
Scorpius beamed. "Great job! Influencer is a very strong starter class. High Charisma modifier, with decent Endurance stats."
She shot Hugo a withering look.
"You'll love it once we start the campaign," he promised.
Scorpius gathered the character sheets and arranged them beside the game board. "Everyone ready?"
Hugo leaned forward. Albus nodded. Lily looked like she was reconsidering her life choices.
Scorpius cleared his throat. "Los Angeles: the city of angels. The city of business. We all work for 'the man.' Who is that, you may ask? Our boss, Jeff Muskosberg. A very wealthy but shady CEO, whose hired us all for one job, and one job only: finance."
Hugo gasped. "Financial Analysts?"
Scorpius nodded grimly.
Lily tilted her head. "Financial Analysts? At what company?"
"Oh—the business company."
"Yeah, but like—what company?"
"The one that makes enough money to need a finance team."
"But what do they do?"
"Brendan has picked everyone up from their large, allegedly-luxury apartments," Scorpius continued, ignoring her. "All have one thing in common." He paused for unnecessary dramatic effect. "Extraordinarily tiny kitchens for the price and size."
Hugo threw his hands up in annoyance.
Albus groaned. "You've already debuffed us with Curse of Tiny Kitchen?"
Scorpius nodded solemnly. "Yes—so because of how expensive our tiny kitchens are, we all have to carpool to work together."
Lily raised her hand. "What's Curse of Tiny Kitchen?"
"Muggle landlords don't have Extension Charm Clauses like in the real wizarding world," Albus explained. "So you're stuck with whatever space you get."
"...That's it?"
Hugo gestured at the board. "Welcome to capitalism."
"Everyone roll to enter the car," Scorpius announced.
Three dice clattered. Albus and Hugo moved their tiny gray figurines on top of a tiny gray car on the board. Lily stared at her die.
"Good roll, Lily!" Scorpius praised. "You rolled a Nat 20!"
"Oh. That's—good, right?" She scratched her head. "What's a 'Nat 20' again?"
Albus leaned over. "Critical hit."
"Why would I hit the car?"
"No. It means you did the action perfectly."
"How did I... enter the car 'perfectly?'" Lily asked. "Why are we rolling on entering a car?"
"That's what the DM book says to do." Scorpius held up a thick manual. "Let me double check... mm, yep. 'Roll for every car entrance, drive, and exit.'"
"What? This is ridiculous."
"No, this is camp," Albus corrected.
"No, this is Desk Jobs and Car Parks," Scorpius corrected-corrected.
Hugo nudged Lily. "I told you, just wait for it. The beginning's always the hardest."
She gave a weary glance to Albus, less for brotherly reassurance, more for an unspoken, Is this a joke?
"He's right," Albus said. "But don't worry—Scorpius' worldbuilding? Phenomenal. Truly."
Lily stared at the tiny carved woman in a suit standing beside a gray car on the grayscale board, then back up. "I don't doubt it, but don't you think the story would be more fun if we make it faster—?"
"Greg, Kayleigh, Chad, and Brendan all pile into the 2003 Honda Civic to carpool," Scorpius interrupted with the utmost seriousness, holding a D20 die in his hand as if it were the world's finest cut jewel. "We must make the treacherous journey across the 101 highway to downtown during rush hour, all to clock in to our very important nine-to-five-and-three-quarters careers."
Lily furrowed her brows. "Scorpius, it's just nine-to-five."
"Heads will not roll, but our tires will!"
Hugo grinned. Albus leaned in. Lily's jaw slackened. Scorpius dropped the die. It settled, and a carved '16' stared back.
"Oh yeah. That's good," Hugo muttered. "Albus—you're closer than I am. Can you move our figurines to B8?"
Twenty minutes crawled by. One agonizing roll at a time, their characters inched through the 101 highway. Every die clattered. Every result mattered for nothing.
"Twelve." Hugo moved his figurine one square.
"Nine." Lily didn't move hers.
"Seven." Albus stayed put.
"Sixteen." Scorpius slid all figurines forward two squares.
Lily propped her chin on her hand.
"Greg adjusts the rearview mirror," Scorpius announced in character. "He catches Chad's reflection. 'Did you get your teeth done again?'"
"'Enamel shaving,'" Hugo replied as Chad. "'My dentist says I'm a prime candidate for veneers!'"
"Nobody asked," Albus cut in flatly as Brendan, grabbing his depressingly bland miniature figurine and hopping it up and down as he spoke.
Hugo snorted. Scorpius grinned. "Eleven." Another square forward.
"Kayleigh posts an Instagram story from the backseat," Lily tried, carrying all the enthusiasm of someone reading a tax form. "'Carpool vibes, hashtag blessed, hashtag—'"
"What's Instagram?" Scorpius asked.
"It's..." Lily gestured vaguely. "Muggles use it to share pictures."
"Of what?"
"Themselves. Mostly."
"Why?"
She opened her mouth. Closed it. "I don't know."
"Eight." No movement.
"Brendan mentions his dogs again," Albus said. "'Did I tell you about their new organic grain-free wet food?'"
"'You did,'" Hugo interrupted as Chad. "'Three times this week.'"
"Six." Still stuck.
Lily rolled. The die showed a four. She didn't bother announcing it.
"Fourteen." Two more squares.
"Greg turns to the backseat," Scorpius narrated. "'So, Kayleigh, I've been meaning to network with you about, er..."
"About what?" Lily asked.
"About... professional opportunities."
"What kind?"
"The networking kind."
She stared at him.
Scorpius shifted in his seat. "...Ten." One square. "Traffic is moving," he announced with the gravity of a battle won. "But barely."
Lily picked up her die. Put it down. Picked it up again.
It took five more rounds before finally—mercifully—they reached downtown.
"Everyone roll to exit the car," Scorpius announced.
Three rounds later, they succeeded.
"You all stand before the revolving glass doors." Scorpius' explained reverently. "An ancient Muggle invention—a Gateway of Perpetual Motion. Its transparent panels spin endlessly, a dance of entrance and egress. The morning sun catches each pane, refracting light into glistening prismatic shards that—"
Albus placed a hand on his boyfriends arm. "Scorpius."
"Right. Sorry." Scorpius cleared his throat. "You approach. But wait—" He slapped a new figurine on the board that was larger than the others. "A terrible enemy blocks your path!"
Hugo leaned in. Albus watched Scorpius with soft eyes. Lily perked up.
"This guardian stands between you and your destiny," Scorpius intoned. "Clad in midnight blue, adorned with gleaming brass, this sentinel of the threshold demands... proof of identity."
Lily's face dropped. "What?"
"The security guard wants to check our employee badges," Hugo translated.
She stared at the new dark blue but still mostly gray figurine on the board. "That's the terrible enemy?"
"Roll for badge presentation," Scorpius said.
Hugo rolled. "Nineteen."
"Your badge gleams in the fluorescent light. The guard nods. You may pass."
Albus rolled. "Fourteen."
"After a tense moment of scrutiny, he waves you through."
Lily rolled. "Three."
"Your badge is upside down. The guard narrows his eyes. Roll again with disadvantage."
Lily sighed sharply. "No, I'm sorry—Rose was right. This... isn't for me." She gathered her books. "Sorry. I have O.W.L.'s to study for."
"Lily!" Hugo clutched his chest. "How could you abandon us in our hour of need?"
"Your hour of checking badges." She stood. "I'll survive the heartbreak."
Scorpius deflated slightly. "I understand. Good luck with your exams."
She smiled. "Thanks, Scorpius—we'll make it up with a game of Gobstones next week?"
"Deal." He brightened. "I've been working on a new ricochet strategy."
"Looking forward to it." She turned to Albus. "Good luck on your N.E.W.T.'s. Both of you."
Albus nodded. "You'll do good on your tests."
"Assuming I actually study instead of rolling dice to enter buildings."
"That's the spirit."
As Lily turned, she glanced at Hugo and half smiled. "Nice try."
Hugo grinned as she melted into the crowed.
"Well." Scorpius picked up Lily's figurine and set it aside. "Kayleigh has been personally fired by Jeff Muskosberg for badge incompetence and offending him in a rogue social media post. The rest of us can proceed to our cubicles."
"What color are they?" Hugo asked.
"Gray."
"Perfect."
"Roll to sit down."
Albus grabbed his die, caught Scorpius' eye, and smiled.
The die clattered as the three wizards continued to play Muggles, moving their figurines forward boringly through fluorescent-lit squares and incompetent middle management.