Fic: Only a Love Story (Harry/Scorpius) - Part 4

[ciraarana]

When the Music Moved In

The moment Harry came home he knew he wasn't alone in the house.

He'd have known it by the subtle change in the atmosphere that spoke loudly of the presence of another human being. Harry had been an Auror for too long not to know it very well. But mostly he knew it by the sound of a piano being played in his living room.

It also let him know who had entered his house. There weren't many people who were allowed to pass through Harry's wards, and only one of them played the piano.

Though he didn't know where the piano had come from. He hadn't owned one this morning.

Neither did he know why Scorpius was here. They usually didn't meet at Harry's place, though this was where they ended up most often. But they hadn't planned to meet up today. What was he doing here?

And what, Harry wondered as he shed his work robes, had happened? He had never heard Scorpius play that way, pounding on the piano, making it cry until the very air seemed to be vibrating with anger. He hadn't ever seen Scorpius angry before, either.

Though, he had to admit that he still knew very little about the young man or his feelings. Harry knew teasing and bantering from Scorpius; he was familiar with seduction and passion and wild sex of the sort that he hadn't even dreamt of before. But exposing real emotions? That wasn't something that happened between them. Scorpius was still hiding behind his masks, and Harry was too reserved and uncomfortable with that sort of stuff to try and press Scorpius into displays of any kind.

Well, apart from lust and desire and smug satisfaction, of course. And intensity, mustn't forget that.

And even that was more than Harry had expected after the young man's seduction. He'd assumed it to be a one-off, that Scorpius Malfoy - like so many others - had been fascinated by the idea of shagging the Boy Who Lived (stupid wizarding world for still calling him that at the age of forty-four). That he had been curious how it would be with a man, perhaps. He hadn't expected Scorpius to ask him to meet again.

He still wondered why he had given in, why he had agreed. Though a large suspect was Harry's stubborn curiosity. He couldn't ignore it, he just had to know.

That still didn't explain how the whole thing could have lasted six months. Six months of meeting at least once a week, of flirting, flustering Harry, and fucking their brains out. Six months of occasional owls and casual conversations and Harry trying to find the real Scorpius behind the Malfoy mask. Even more recent dinner dates at posh restaurants had invariably ended the same way their meetings in pubs or parks had done - in bed.

It wasn't a relationship, Harry knew that, because he'd had relationships before and they hadn't been like that. But it wasn't exactly casual, either, Harry didn't think so, and yet no one could have called them fuck buddies. Harry didn't know what it was.

But now Scorpius was here, in Harry's house, uninvited and angry and pounding on a piano that by rights shouldn't be there.

Harry didn't understand.

He scrubbed his scalp, sighed, and ignored his growling stomach to go and see if he could find answers.

At the door to his living room, he stopped and took the situation in, frowning just a little. His couch had been moved into the centre of the room, closer to the fireplace, and its former space along the wall was taken up by a gleaming, midnight-blue grand piano. It stood slightly angled, reaching into the room. There appeared to be runes etched into the wood that were glowing faintly.

In the tiny remaining space between wall and cupboard, Scorpius sat hunched on his bench, head bent down, and concentrating on his flying fingers. His face was half-turned towards Harry, but hidden behind feathery wisps of his hair that had fallen forwards.

For a few minutes, Harry simply stood there, watching, wondering what he was to do. Scorpius looked so absorbed and, honestly, so angry that Harry was loath to interrupt him. On the other hand, there were occasional notes of hurt in the music he was playing, and they plucked painfully at Harry's heart, making him want to do something to help.

What's more, at some level Scorpius had to be aware of him standing there, because his back stiffened, and his head bent lower, and the music developed some strangely wavering, hesitant tones, as though Scorpius was worried about his welcome. Or that Harry might be angry at him.

Harry had no idea how he could know that. He knew very little about Scorpius, after all, and even less about music. But he couldn't ignore his conviction, either, and that was what finally made him move into the room.

Slowly, he approached the piano and the musician. The blond head remained bowed, but the music quietened a little. Then Harry stood there, still without any idea of what to do, and the melody became hesitant again. Questioning. Harry bit his lip with indecision, then gathered his courage and walked around the instrument, coming to stand half behind the young man. Slowly, carefully, he laid his hands on Scorpius's shoulders.

They were tense and jumped a little at the touch, but otherwise Scorpius showed no reaction. He kept playing, head bent, and tense.

Chewing on his lower lip, Harry simply stood there, feeling slightly foolish, and debated what he could and should do next. In the end, he decided that since Scorpius hadn't shrugged him away, a simple question couldn't hurt.

Speaking as gently as he could, Harry asked, 'What's wrong?' and the music ended with a crashing discord that startled him.

'Father,' Scorpius choked out. His fingers that still rested on the keys clenched into fists.

Wondering whether he had managed to get into the middle of a family spat, and what he'd done to deserve it being a Malfoy family spat, Harry rubbed Scorpius's tense shoulders. 'What happened?'

Scorpius hissed like an angry cat. 'Someone must have seen us the other day. And they told Father.'

Harry nodded to himself. He'd been aware that Scorpius hadn't informed his family that he was kind of maybe dating Harry Potter, and it had been perfectly all right with Harry. Their … thing … wasn't that serious after all, not a kind of "meet the parents" thing, and so he'd been happy to avoid having to deal with Draco Malfoy.

At least, so Harry had thought. He could well imagine Malfoy's reaction to the discovery. 'He was angry, wasn't he?'

A choked laugh was his answer. 'Angry?' Scorpius whirled around and looked up at Harry. His eyes were wide with, Harry thought, hurt and bewilderment. 'Harry, he was fucking furious!' Scorpius shook his head, half in awe. 'I've never seen him this furious before. I didn't know he could be … like that.' His voice sounded about five years old. 'He yelled at me! He never yells at me.'

Harry caressed Scorpius's shoulders, casting about for something comforting to say.

'He … he told me to stop it,' Scorpius went on before Harry could come up with anything. 'Stop seeing you. Said it wasn't … wasn't a proper thing to do. Said a lot of things about tradition and family honour and duty and keeping out of the press, and stuff. Stuff he always says. He sounded pretty reasonable then. Angry, yeah, but still like Father.' Scorpius took a deep breath. 'I … I told him I wouldn't. Stop seeing you.'

'You…' Harry closed his mouth with an audible click. He was completely blindsided. He hadn't expected Scorpius to defy his father. Not at all, but definitely not for this … this thing between them. If he'd been thinking about the situation at all, he probably would have assumed that Scorpius had come to end things. But this? This he'd never thought possible.

'Yeah, I …' Scorpius licked his lips. 'Father kept arguing but I …' Scorpius raised his head defiantly and looked Harry in the eye. 'I told him it wasn't his business, that I'd do what I want. And that I want to keep seeing you.' He blinked, and the fight went out of him again. 'Then he stared yelling.' He sniffed. 'He never yelled at me before.'

Harry felt for him. Whatever he personally thought of Draco Malfoy, he'd known that Scorpius had a good relationship with his father. From his reaction, Harry would hazard a guess that this was the first true confrontation they'd had, the first time neither of them had backed down.

And it had been over Harry. Malfoy must love that, Harry thought with a grimace. He could already hear the Howler Malfoy would send him.

In the meantime, there was Scorpius, who was hurt and probably scared, and Harry was at a loss. He really wasn't the right person to provide comfort, never knowing what to do or what to say. He wondered why Scorpius had come here in the first place - and with his piano, of all things. Wouldn't his mother - or a friend - have been the most likely person for him to go to?

Yet there he was, looking small and ridiculously young, and Harry felt something large and warm and fierce rise in his chest. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but no less surprising. Hermione called it his "individual protectiveness", something Harry felt for those who were dear to him, in contrast to the "professional protectiveness" he felt for the wizarding world in general.

Harry thought that was making big words about simple things and splitting hairs. He merely knew that he felt the need to make sure that the wizarding world was safe, and that his friends and their families were safe and happy, and that apparently Scorpius was now included in the small circle of the latter.

His hands tightened on Scorpius's shoulders, and when the young man looked up, Harry smiled at him. 'Come on,' he said gently and tugged Scorpius to his feet.

Scorpius gave him a curious look, but followed Harry willingly over to the couch where Harry pulled him down and wrapped both arms around him in a close hug. He didn't really know what he was doing, just followed his instinct in wanting to make Scorpius feel safe and happy. Or, at least, a little happier.

For a few seconds, Scorpius sat almost rigid, but then he shuddered and melted into Harry's arms. He laid his head on Harry's shoulder and nestled into his body, and Harry felt absurdly pleased and began petting Scorpius's hair. Scorpius sneaked his arms around Harry's waist and held on.

How long they sat like this, Harry couldn't tell. Occasionally, his stomach growled. Once or twice, Scorpius shivered and sniffed, and Harry worried about what he'd do if Scorpius started crying.

But Scorpius didn't cry, simply sat there, silent, and let Harry pet him. At one point, Harry began wondering if he ought to do something else, or say something, and if they'd be sitting here like this the whole night if he didn't. Finally, Scorpius heaved a huge sigh and said softly, 'The worst thing isn't even that he yelled at me. I … Well, parents sometimes just get angry. But … he lied to me, Harry.'

'Huh?' Harry knew that wasn't the appropriate reply, but he was thrown. In the event, it didn't seem to matter, though.

'Father.' The word was a little muffled because Scorpius had turned his face into Harry's neck. 'He lied to me. He said he wouldn't but he did.'

Harry considered that agreeing that Malfoy senior was a bastard wasn't the wisest course, so he shrugged, bouncing Scorpius's head. 'Everyone lies sometimes,' he replied philosophically.

Scorpius sat up abruptly, cuffing Harry's chin on the way, and glared at him. 'That's not what I meant,' he said hotly. 'Father always told me he was proud of me and always would be, no matter what I did. That I could and should make my own decisions, and that it didn't matter if I didn't follow him in all things. He said he'd support me in my decisions and never try to force me to stick to his beliefs and opinions. And that he'd never be angry at me for standing up for myself. That he'd never be angry with me if I didn't think or do the same as he thought or did. And he lied!'

His look of indignant rage was almost comical, but any urge Harry might have felt to laugh was dampened by the hurt in Scorpius's pale blue eyes. Harry hugged Scorpius closer, thinking that it was pretty stupid of Malfoy to have promise something like that. Even Fleur Weasley, who regarded everything her children did with a certain amused indifference, wasn't laid back about Dominique's plans to become a Muggle supermodel and had finally put her foot down when the first nude pictures had shown up.

'Well, he probably meant political beliefs,' Harry said in an attempt to soothe Scorpius. 'I don't know if he's told you, but, well. He followed his father pretty blindly, though I know that your grandfather put a lot of pressure on him, too. But your father didn't try to, um, form his own opinion, you know, and it didn't end well.'

'No, I don't know,' Scorpius said sullenly. 'Father only ever talks in the vaguest terms about the war. Just enough that I know what Grandfather went to Azkaban for, and that the Dark Lord lived at the Manor for some time. And that you killed him in the end, of course.'

Harry digested the information slowly. He could understand not wanting to relive the war or confess your own faults. But leaving out important details didn't help; at least, not if you wanted the next generation to learn from your mistakes.

'Your father is a bit of an idiot, then,' Harry ventured. 'But he probably said all those things because he genuinely meant them.'

'Ha!' Scorpius snorted. 'Genuine, yeah, right. As long as I go along with him and do what he says, you mean. But as soon as I really disagree, nothing! This is the first time I wouldn't let him convince me, the first time I really have an opinion that clashes with his. And look how he reacted!'

Scorpius pressed his fists to his eyes, and Harry caressed his bowed head. He was suddenly reminded of how he'd felt when he had realised that Dumbledore had planned for him to die so that the Horcrux inside of his head could be destroyed. Yes, he knew how it felt when someone you trusted seemed to turn his back on you, and he felt a new surge of protectiveness rush through him. His arms tightened.

Scorpius's breathed hitched a little. 'He lied to me Harry,' he whispered. 'He lied. He doesn't really support me, not me as I am but only me as he sees me, as his son and heir. He doesn't really know me at all,' he finished sadly.

Something in his voice reminded Harry of his goddaughter when she'd been told she'd got a baby brother. Her eyes had been huge and scared, and she'd asked him whether Mummy and Daddy didn't like her any more that they had to get a new baby. Harry suddenly understood that this wasn't so much about Scorpius experiencing his father's rejection - and of course he couldn't have managed to get to the age of eighteen without ever coming to loggerheads with his parents. No, Scorpius was hurt because he believed that he had discovered that his father didn't really care for him, that his father's love was for an image that had only superficial similarity with Scorpius.

Harry didn't know whether that was true or not. But either way, it was shattering to realise that the person you loved, and who should love you, wasn't really how you'd always seen them.

Probably Malfoy was feeling the same at the moment with regards to Scorpius.

That was the point at which Harry's brain tied itself in knots and refused to follow the thought any further, for which he was grateful. He really didn't want any insights into Malfoy's psyche, thank you very much. Then he shoved the whole thing away and said, 'He does care about you,' because he knew Scorpius needed to hear that.

Scorpius looked at him, eyes a little glassy. 'How would you know? You never liked each other, did you? I know that much.'

'No, we didn't, but after Hogwarts that was more kind of a tradition.' Harry shrugged and smiled. 'Besides, I'm not a great fan of your grandmother, and I think that Lucius should have stayed locked up for the rest of his life for what he did, but I can acknowledge that they genuinely care for your father. Just because I don't like him doesn't mean I can't see that your dad loves you.'

Scorpius wrinkled his nose at that, but didn't protest out loud. He sighed and rubbed his eyes again. 'I just don't feel very loved for me right now.'

'What about your mother?' Harry asked curiously.

'Mummy looked at me as if I was a wild Crup that had got in and peed on her carpet.'

'Oh.' Well, that didn't sound very loving, either, and answered the question why Scorpius hadn't gone to her for comfort. 'Why?'

'Because I'm supposed to bring home a nice, pretty pure-blood witch and make lots of nice, pretty pure-blood babies for her. And because I wasn't a good little boy and did as Father told me.'

There was a bitterness in his voice Harry had never heard before. It seemed that Scorpius didn't get along well with his mother, which made his falling-out with his father all the more pertinent.

'Didn't your parents know that you're, um, not likely to bring a witch home and make babies?' Harry forced the question out though he could feel his cheeks heat.

Scorpius shrugged. 'They kind of knew.'

'Kind of?'

'Well, they knew.' Scorpius sighed. 'They just pretended it wasn't true or that it was a phase I was going through or something. They probably won't be able to do that any longer. Though I bet they'll try anyway,' Scorpius added darkly.

'Try what?'

'To pretend. That nothing's changed, and that they'll just have to wait it out, and then I'll be back to being their good little boy and do what Father says. I'm so sick of it, sometimes!'

Harry blinked, stunned anew by Scorpius's unusual vehemence. He'd never seen the young man this passionate outside of bed. He'd never known a lot of things about Scorpius, but then, he'd never had such a personal conversation with his … with Scorpius, either.

He wondered with gnawing curiosity what else there was that he didn't know about Scorpius.

'And, um, since I assume that you don't want to go back and do what your father says-'

Scorpius snorted.

'-what are you going to do? To make them see you're your own person?'

'Um.' Scorpius stilled, biting his lip. He cast Harry an uncertain glance from the corner of his eyes. 'I thought … I, well, can I stay with you?'

'Tonight? Yes, of course.' Something occurred to Harry, and he added, 'Think your father knows you're here? Because it'll make him angrier if you stay here tonight.'

'No!' Scorpius's cry startled them both. Scorpius flushed, and he shook his head. 'I mean, he probably knows I'm here and he can be as furious as he wants, I don't care! But, um. I meant, can I stay here for a while?'

Harry considered him with a frown. 'For a while?'

'Yeah.' Scorpius's flush deepened and he lowered his head, hiding behind his fringe. 'Maybe … a long while? Like … move in with you?'

Harry, blindsided, gaped at him. 'Move in with me?!'

'I'm not going to stay at the Manor, anyway,' Scorpius said quickly. 'If I can't stay here with you, I'd … I'll get a flat, or something. But I won't stay at the Manor when Father treats me like this! As if I'm just some kind of copy of him. He … They both need to learn that I'm an adult now and my own person and more than just their good little boy, that I have other plans for life than they have and … and they need to learn to treat me that way!' His chin quivered a little, but he held Harry's eyes with anxious defiance.

'Um.'

It was the shy, trembling, hopeful smile in Scorpius's eyes that in the end made the decision for Harry.

Hours later, after they had talked some more and had finally got around to eating supper, and then had gone to bed and had passionate sex, Harry lay awake, eyes wide open in the darkness, a warm body sleeping peacefully next to him, and wondered.

Scorpius had come to him for comfort. Scorpius had wanted to move in with Harry. But did he truly want to live with Harry, or was it only a temporary solution? Scorpius had said that he'd get a flat if he couldn't stay, after all.

Still, he had come to Harry first. With his piano. And while Harry couldn't imagine that someone as gorgeous and vivacious as Scorpius would want to stay for good, he would do what he had done the last six months: enjoy it while it lasted.

He couldn't help hoping that it would last a long time.

*

When Harry arrived at his office the next day, slightly late because waking up had taken an unusual form and therefore longer than expected, the owl was waiting for him.

Harry didn't recognise the bird, but he thought he knew who owned such a majestic animal. Besides, he could see the Malfoy crest that glowed on the letter from across the room. Harry groaned and went to relieve the owl of the letter and got pecked for his trouble. He told his secretary to let the bird out, closed his door, and read the letter.

It was short and let him know in no uncertain terms that Draco Malfoy needed to see him as soon as possible. The "or else" was implied.

Well, Harry thought, at least it wasn't a Howler.

He wrote a short note back, telling Malfoy to come by at around one o'clock, and then bent his mind on his work. He was determined to not worry. After all, Malfoy couldn't really do anything here. What's more, Harry reminded himself whenever that didn't help to quell his nervousness, he had never been intimidated by Draco Malfoy.

It was precisely one o'clock, and Harry had foregone lunch to try to fix a messed up roster, when there was a knock on his door. Harry's reply was, as usual, a grunt. Only when the door opened and his secretary slipped in did he glance up. Looked at the clock. Remembered.

'Mr Malfoy's here, then?' he asked.

Benjamin, his secretary, nodded. 'Yes, sir. He said he had an appointment. But - ' he swallowed nervously - 'your schedule's clear right now. I told him I'd come and ask you first.'

'That's all right, Benjamin.' Harry did his best to look confident. 'He wrote to me this morning and I told him he could come by. Show him in, please.'

Benjamin looked marginally reassured and vanished to show Malfoy into Harry's office. A moment later, Malfoy appeared in the doorway, and Harry rose politely to greet him.

Draco Malfoy hadn't changed much over the years, Harry thought as the man strutted in as though he owned the place, resplendent in silver-grey robes that made him look like a frozen beam of light. He was still tall and slender, and his face was still pale and pointy. Only his hair, so pale as to be nearly white, was different - noticeably thinning.

'Potter.' The cold drawl hadn't changed, either.

Harry nodded. 'Malfoy.' He pointed to the chair in front of his desk. 'Please sit down. Would you like tea?'

Malfoy turned up his nose, eyed the chair distrustfully, but sat down. 'A little late for trying to be polite, Potter.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'If you're talking about Scorpius-'

'Actually,' Malfoy interrupted, 'I was referring to the fact that you hadn't seen it necessary to inform your secretary of my … appointment.' He sneered the last word. It was an impressive sneer, almost as impressive as Snape's had been.

'No tea then?' Harry asked blandly.

'No, thank you.' Malfoy sounded as though he was crunching glass.

Harry only shrugged and sat down as well. 'Okay. So tell me why you're here.'

Malfoy's nostrils flared. 'I think we both know why I am here, Potter.'

'Well, I know you're angry with Scorpius for defying you and not being a good little boy, as he put it,' Harry noted the tiny flinch at his words and slightly softened his voice, 'but I have no idea what you're here for.'

'I am here,' Malfoy said with apparent difficulty, 'against my better judgement, to appeal to your good sense. Potter, my son is still young and he is … headstrong. He will not take the repercussions of his actions into consideration, as he has not yet the experience to consider the bigger picture. So I appeal to you as one who has the experience, who can see the bigger picture, and as one who knows the wizarding world well after having served to protect it for so long. Consider what you are doing, Potter.'

There was a moment's silence after Malfoy's speech. Then: 'You want me to kick him out,' Harry stated flatly.

Malfoy tossed his head unwillingly, as though Harry had said something distasteful to him. 'I want you to end this … this thing between you.'

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest. 'And if I don't want to?'

It was gratifying to see Malfoy gape at him. 'Potter!' he exclaimed. 'You cannot … you cannot want to continue this!'

'Why not?' It was a challenge, but Harry also wanted to know why Malfoy was so opposed.

'And here I thought you were able to consider the bigger picture,' Malfoy groaned, dramatically putting his hand over his eyes. When Harry only huffed, he let the hand fall and glared. 'Potter, don't you realise, this isn't good for either of you? He is far too young for you. Think about what it would do to your reputation, if you don't care for his! You can't believe the wizarding world would accept a relationship with one so much younger, not even if it's you. And we can't have that, can we, Saint Potter pushed off his pedestal?' he added with a sneer.

Harry glared and opened his mouth to snap something cutting back, but Malfoy's expression changed and he shook his head. It made Harry pause. Malfoy looked almost worried.

'And if you would care to consider his reputation,' Malfoy said slowly, painfully, 'you must see this isn't good for my son, either. People have already noticed. Soon, they will start asking questions and ... if there is a relationship between the two of you … people will dig out … our family's past.' He suddenly looked twice his age, his shoulders heavy with the burden of the past. His eyes, when he glanced at Harry, were weary. 'You can, I believe, imagine the headlines? Head Auror corrupted by son of a Death Eater. And you know what they will call him? Your catamite. You cannot want that for him.'

It was a strange, seeing Draco Malfoy so … small. After he'd been cleared of charges, due to extenuating circumstances, he had always held his head up high, ignoring the whispers and stares and all the petty little revenges people took because they could. Harry had reluctantly admired him for that, even if he didn't like the man and thought that was his just desserts for the things he had done. Seeing him like this now made Harry feel sorry for him.

'Malfoy, that's almost thirty years ago,' he said gently. 'It's old news. Your debts have been paid. People have forgotten. I don't think you need to worry about anyone bringing up Death Eaters.'

Malfoy shook his head and gave Harry a look that was almost back up to his usual levels of acerbity. 'You don't really believe that, do you, Potter? They will bring those times up again. People just love a sordid tale like that.' He clenched his fists. 'And I will not see our family so defamed and the Malfoy name soiled!'

Harry huffed out an annoyed breath. 'And just when you were doing so well, Malfoy.'

'What are you talking about, Potter?' Malfoy's voice was sharp, and Harry sighed.

'Here I was about to believe you actually cared for your son and his well-being and you bring up all that nonsense about dirtying your precious family name.' Harry had learnt to sneer as well.

'I do care for Scorpius!' Malfoy snapped, eyes bright with fury.

'Yeah, but you also care for your precious family name and family honour,' Harry shot back.

'Of course I care about those things as well!' Malfoy said sharply. 'And so do you, if you are honest with yourself. You can't tell me that you enjoy seeing your name being dragged through the mud by the press.'

'I care about it less than I care about the happiness of people who are important to me,' Harry retorted.

'Then you are more fool than I thought, Potter.' Malfoy snorted disdainfully. 'Family comes first, family always comes first. Family honour is shared by all, as is shame. It is each one's duty to contribute to the family name. It has been the way of the Malfoys for centuries. Scorpius knows that. He knows what he owes his family.'

'God, Malfoy, can you hear yourself?' Harry shook his head, incredulous. 'It's no surprise Scorpius got fed up and told you to mind your own business if you've kept trotting out nonsense like that.'

Malfoy sat rigid. 'Scorpius is a Malfoy first,' he said icily. 'He needs to remember that. His first loyalty must always to be the family. And he must marry a pure-blood and beget an heir. It is his duty to continue our family and our traditions.'

Harry snorted with disgust. 'Traditions? Like pure-blood supremacy nonsense? Look where following traditions has led you!'

'This is not about blood, Potter' Malfoy hissed, pale with fury. 'It is about family and honour. But I can see how you are unable to understand, never having had either.'

Harry gritted his teeth and refused to raise to the bait. 'Whatever, Malfoy. If you're trying to make me angry enough to ditch Scorpius, forget it. He told me he wanted to be treated like an adult, and I will do that. And that means trusting him to make his own decisions. I will not tell him what to do!'

He'd been almost shouting by the end of his little speech, and the silence that followed seemed to echo.

'I see,' Malfoy said finally. 'Then I will have to seek other ways to make my son see reason.'

He got up and, head held high, walked to the door. Harry leant back in his chair and linked his hands behind his head. 'I wouldn't do that if I were you.'

At the door, Malfoy half-turned, eyebrows raised haughtily. 'You will excuse me for not listening to you about how to deal with my son.'

Harry rolled his eyes, then gave the other man a meaningful look. 'Your decision, of course, but you ought to know, better than anyone else, what a father pressuring his son can lead to.'

For a moment, Malfoy stared at him. Then he turned without a word and slammed out of the office.

Harry let out a deep breath and slumped down in his chair. Well, that could have gone worse. He rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. He thought that Malfoy wouldn't stop trying to persuade or pressure Scorpius, despite what Harry had said to him. He also thought that Scorpius wouldn't back down. Which meant that not only had Harry indeed managed to get himself right in the middle of a father-son fight, but it also meant that Harry's old enmity with Draco Malfoy was back in action.

He wondered how this … thing with Scorpius had become so serious that he was willing to fight his parents for him.

And why he didn't mind.

*

When Harry came home that night, he knew that Scorpius had moved in. Standing still, he let the changed atmosphere of his house impress on him. It felt … fuller and warmer, somehow. An involuntary smile lifted Harry's lips, and his shoulders relaxed.

This, he thought, was what home was supposed to feel like. He hadn't known he'd been missing it.

'Good evening, Master Harry Potter.'

The voice sounded like the tinkling of little bells and was definitely not Scorpius's.

Harry jumped in surprise and whirled around, and then stood blinking at the house-elf that hovered in the door to the kitchen, nervously wringing its hands. It was tiny, barely taller than Rose's dolls. And it was wearing one of the tea-towels Molly had given him when he had moved into his own home. It was red and embroidered with the initials HJP. He had never used it to dry his dishes.

'What … Who're you and where did you come from?' he asked, though he was beginning to think he knew.

'I is Priddy,' the elf said with a curtsey. Her ears were quivering. 'Priddy is coming with Master Scorpius to take care of new Master Harry Potter. Priddy has prepared food for new Master Harry Potter,' she added with a mixture of fear and hopefulness.

Harry smiled at her, hoping to reassure. 'Food sounds good.'

The elf's ears pricked up, and she brightened. 'Priddy has food for Master Harry in the kitchen. Master Harry can come eat after he has washed his hands.'

The tiny creature trying to sound stern made Harry laugh, but he nodded and went to do as he was told, already thinking that coming home each night to dinner ready and waiting for him was worth enduring the inevitable lectures from Hermione.

A door upstairs opened and closed, and light steps hurried down the stairs. Harry raised his head just as Scorpius landed in front of him.

'Harry,' he cried and surprised Harry by throwing himself into Harry's arms. Coming home from work was looking better each second, Harry thought as he answered Scorpius's enthusiastic kiss.

'Hm, what a lovely welcome,' Harry murmured against Scorpius's lips. Scorpius moaned softly and pressed closer, canting his hips so that Harry could feel his growing erection.

'I could make it even better,' he whispered. One of his hands trailed down, slipping between their bodies, to curl around Harry's cock. It twitched with interest, and Harry was tempted, very tempted. But he was also very hungry.

'Later,' he promised with a quick kiss. 'I was told dinner is waiting for me.'

'I see you've met Priddy, then,' Scorpius said as he stepped back from their kiss, looking decidedly ruffled, and grinned at Harry. 'She sent you to wash your hands before dinner, didn't she?'

'Yep, and I'd better hurry to do it before she decides I won't get dinner.' Harry winked, making Scorpius laugh. Harry had never seen him look so bright and happy.

'Oh, she won't, believe me,' Scorpius said, leaning on the doorframe of the downstairs bathroom and watching while Harry quickly washed his hands. 'Feeding people is her passion, and she never was allowed to really do it at the Manor.' He cast Harry a suddenly worried look in the mirror. 'You don't mind I brought her, do you?'

Harry looked back seriously. 'Well, I admit I would have liked to be told that you'd come with a house-elf. But no, I don't mind. Even though Hermione will probably scold me forever.' Speaking of his friend made Harry wonder how they would react to his housemate. His lover.

Scorpius sighed with relief, then threw Harry a teasing smile. 'Well, Mrs Weasley knows that I own an elf, of course. Priddy is registered with her department, after all. And she's hardly likely to scold you for giving an elf shelter when she's only following her master.'

Unwilling to think about his friends and their reactions to his news right now, Harry asked, 'So she really belongs to you, not to your family?'

'Yes, she's my personal elf. Father gave her to me when I turned eleven. He said I was old enough then to own an elf.' Scorpius grimaced. 'Bit silly, with me being at Hogwarts most of the time.'

'What, you didn't take her with you to Hogwarts to bring you sweets from Honeydukes?' Harry asked with raised brows and a broad grin. Scorpius laughed and elbowed him and went ahead of him into the kitchen, throwing him a saucy smile over his shoulder when Harry smacked his butt.

Dinner was a simple shepherd's pie, but it was delicious, and Priddy burst into tears when Harry told her so.

'I think you've just enslaved her for all eternity,' Scorpius commented dryly. Harry glared at him and tried to calm the sobbing elf. Scorpius snickered and told Priddy to make a pot of tea, which Harry thought a little callous but worked marvellously at soothing the elf.

With the teapot and cups bobbing along behind them, they went to the living room, where Scorpius sat down at the piano and began to play a soft, happy little tune. Harry sank into his couch and listened for a while, enjoying the music.

He thought about what Malfoy had said today, about how the wizarding world would react. He thought about how his friends would react, mostly Ron and Hermione; he presumed Hermione would take a position similar to Malfoy and tell him Scorpius was too young.

The music ran over him like warm water, and Harry relaxed. Ron and Hermione had got used to a lot of his idiosyncrasies over the years. They would simply have to get used to this, too.

With a smile, Harry stretched, shoved the worry aside, and then hunted under the cushions for the book he was trying to read. Hermione had given it to him, telling him it was a modern classic and brilliant and he really must read it. Harry did his best but, he thought it confusing and the story boring. It always put him to sleep when he tried to figure out what the author was trying to tell him.

He was struggling with one of the author's ten-line-sentences when he noticed the music had changed.

Blinking as though waking from a dream, Harry emerged from his book and cocked his head, listening. The piano seemed to be whispering now, softly, adoringly, with an occasional tinkle like a shy question. He turned his head to look at Scorpius, and his eyes met the pale blue ones of his lover. They were soft and brilliant and seemed to shine from within. Harry's breath caught in his throat.

Scorpius blushed, but didn't look away, and Harry couldn't help but keep staring at him. He looked different, somehow, but Harry couldn't figure out where and how. Scorpius was just as gorgeous as he always was, just as desirable, playing his music and smiling at Harry.

In a great rush that made him glad he was sitting down because his knees were decidedly shaky, Harry realised what seemed so different.

It was the smile and the expression on Scorpius's face, the light in his eyes. He was open and peaceful and trusting and, for what Harry realised had to be the first time since they had met, he truly wasn't wearing a mask. Harry was seeing the real Scorpius for the first time.

It took his breath away, and he could only sit and stare and let Scorpius's eyes and music caress him.

It seemed that Scorpius was good for surprises, and he was the most surprising one of all.

* * *

>> Part 5