the world has its shine (i would drop it on a dime) [2/4]
As promised, the Shit Hits The Fan chapter. Enjoy!
the world has its shine (i would drop it on a dime) [2/4]
otempora01, rated PG-13 for kissing, swearing, sexual situations, and Al’s virgin eyes.
Harry Potter, AS/S, m/m, post-series.
Scorpius may have joined the Aurors of his own free will, but he stayed for Albus Severus.
Part 2 complete in 6,658 words.
*
Give me a reason (I don't believe a word)
To end this discussion (of anything I've heard)
To break with tradition (they tell me that it's not so hard)
To fold and divide (it's not so hard)
So let's not get carried (away with everything)
Away with the process (from here to in-between)
of elimination (the long goodbye)
I don't want to waste your time.
-Everything Is Alright by Motion City Soundtrack
*
The more time passed since Scorpius joined the Aurors, the more Al realized that nothing had changed between them. Not really. Scorpius had always been worldly and sophisticated so Al felt in no way daunted by the people he must have met and the things he must have seen in their year apart.
And, regardless, Scorpius valued their friendship as much as ever. Al grew fond of starting conversations with, “Remember when we…” or “Tell me all about…” and, even though they went hours without seeing each other due to their separate training regimens, they always managed to pick up right where they’d left off in their last conversation.
“I swear, your uncle’s trying to kill me,” Scorpius complained one day in March as they dropped by the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate Scorpius’ birthday with some butterbeer and whining before he had to go home for a birthday dinner. “He kept conjuring snakes and throwing them at us. When are we ever going to have to save the world from a bunch of evil snakes?”
“I think it was a symbolic exercise,” Al said sagely. “He never did forgive me for being sorted into Slytherin and making friends with you.”
“I think it’s more my father’s fault than yours. Although he still claims your uncle started it.”
Al waved down old Tom’s daughter, Elain, and ordered two butterbeers for them, then leaned forward and smirked. “I know your secret.”
“Do you?” Scorpius was staring at him blankly, but Al wasn’t fooled. Scorpius’ nostrils flared when he was nervous and Al could practically see his brain up his nose.
“Yes, or were you eventually planning to tell me that the Louis you’re sharing a flat with is, in fact, my cousin Louis Weasley?”
Al could have sworn that Scorpius seemed relieved, but that was replaced by amusement in an instant. “Louis is a good mate and he told me not to tell anyone where he was staying. Unlike you, he’s far less willing to endure the backlash that comes with being my friend.”
Al grinned at the gratitude in Scorpius’ eyes.
“How did you find out anyway?”
“I dropped by your apartment early so we could floo in to the Ministry together and I heard the shower going. I wanted to give you a good scare and-well, let’s just say that Aunt Fleur isn’t going to be pleased about that dragon tattoo on Louis’ arsecheek.”
Scorpius began to laugh as Elain brought their butterbeer, covering his mouth and turning away from her, his shoulders shaking silently. Al knew he was trying to get himself under control. The only person he truly lost it around was Al and Al alone. No one else had ever seen him laugh as loudly or smile as easily as he did with Al.
Elain wandered away and Al watched Scorpius’ blond hair fall into his eyes and over the top of his glasses and a delicate hand reach up to brush it away and grey eyes focus on him in amusement that faded to confusion. “What are you staring at?”
“Huh? Oh. Nothing. You. You don’t laugh much in public.”
“Yes, well. Malfoy family protocol requires all public laughs to be at other people’s expense so I doubt my father will be too upset. Especially not tonight. He tries to act the model father in front of Granddad Lucius.” Scorpius clinked his bottle against Al’s and took a long sip. “Anyway, Louis’ got that tattoo the night before we left Paris. He was pissed, I was pissed, and it seemed like a good idea at the time…”
“Merlin, please tell me you have one, too.”
Scorpius’ cheeks turned pink. “You will never know where it is.”
“Is it on your arsecheek? You have to show me. I’m your best mate!”
“It is not on my arse and I do not have to show you. Drink your bloody beer.”
“It’s actually called butterbeer and it was developed in-oh, alright, don’t glare at me like that. I’m drinking.”
“After graduation,” Scorpius said quietly, fiddling with the edge of his tie. “After graduation, I’m going to Paris.”
Al, who was bouncing up and down on his suitcase in an effort to close it, stopped. “What? How come?”
“No reason,” Scorpius lied. “I just don’t think I can stand going home and telling Dad I have no idea what I want to do. I think my Dad wants me to play Quidditch or something.”
“James wants to play Quidditch,” Al said, smiling as Scorpius made a face. “You two should play on the same team.”
“Well, if I wasn’t eager to go before…”
Al’s smile faded and he looked down at his dangling legs in silence. Scorpius couldn’t tell whether he was searching for something to say to make Scorpius stay, trying to think of a way to get his parents to let him go with Scorpius, or trying to deal with the news. He hoped it was the latter specifically because the rest of him hoped it wasn’t.
“My aunt and uncle have a chateau in France,” Al began and Scorpius’ resolve strengthened. He turned away and began to check and double check that all of his suitcases were closed.
“I won’t be in Paris long. I’ll be traveling around a lot. Seeing the world and all that.” He paused to let that sink in. “I’ll write.”
It was quiet for a very long time before Al said in a very small voice, “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll write,” he repeated and really meant ‘I love you.’
“Promise?”
“Of course.”
It was quiet again and then arms encircled his waist and Al’s face pressed against his shoulder blade and Scorpius had to close his eyes and bite the inside of his cheek to keep from whirling around and pinning Al to the bed. He placed an awkward hand over Al’s on his stomach.
“I’ll only be gone about a year. Maybe two. 130-days will pass before you know it and then I’ll be back.”
Al didn’t answer, simply turned his head and inhaled deeply. Scorpius knew he was smelling his imported cologne. Al was partially impressed by, partially obsessed with, and partially incredulous of cologne that smelled so good, but cost so much. Which was exactly why Scorpius had bought it.
“Is your uterus hurting, Potter?” said one of the Crabbe twins as he entered the dormitory and grabbed his dufflebag. “Because I’m pretty sure Malfoy doesn’t keep any potions for that in his robes.”
Al released him to shout a barrage of vile epithets that would make even his manly mother blush and Scorpius gripped the handle of his suitcase so tightly his knuckles turned white. If Crabbe hadn’t come… Merlin, if Crabbe hadn’t come…
Al ended his rant by throwing the nearest object, an old copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, at Crabbe’s head and Scorpius was forced to beat back his personal demons before Al beat Crabbe into oblivion. He took a deep breath and turned. He had to get out of England and fast.
Scorpius awoke with a start, sitting up and smashing his forehead against Louis’. They both cried out in pain, although Louis’ exclamation was laced with curses and Scorpius’ was much more dignified. Holding a hand to his hopefully unbruised forehead, he groped for his glasses, slipped them on, and glowered at the unwelcome interruption to what was turning out to be a fairly accurate representation of why coming back to London had been a bad idea.
He groaned and fell back on the pillow. “What do you want?”
“You were saying Al’s name in your sleep, you twit,” Louis snapped, looking very disgruntled for someone who’d just climbed into another person’s bed to wake them up. “He’s asleep on our couch. Do you want to reveal your big gay crush on, and thereby come out to, him all in one night? Are you trying to give him a heart attack?”
Scorpius’ entire face went red and he was suddenly happy it was the middle of the night. Louis shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed as opposed to on Scorpius’ legs and then something he’d said finally made it to Scorpius’ tired brain.
“You… you think he’d have a heart attack if I told him?”
Louis gave him an incredulous look but, when he saw that Scorpius was serious, he looked instead at the sleeping dragon figurine Al had given Scorpius for his birthday. “I’m pretty sure Al fancies girls. I mean, we don’t talk much about sexual preferences, but he’s given no indication that he thinks of you as-I could ask Rose, if you want?”
But Scorpius was already drawing the covers up over his head and wanting to floo home and get a hug from his Mum.
“I just think it’s probably better if you don’t go too fast with him too soon. He might react… badly. Weasleys and Potters are known for their tempers and Al’s got both swimming around in his blood stream. And James Potter’s his brother. If you fancied James Potter, would you tell him?”
Scorpius lowered the cover just enough to glower at Louis, as ineffective as it was in the dark. “James Potter can go and bugger himself with his own broomstick.”
Louis found that much funnier than it was. Scorpius waited patiently for him to stop snickering.
The bedroom lights went on and they turned to see Al leaning against the doorpost, like he’d drop back to sleep if he didn’t have it there to hold him up. “It’s arse o’clock in the morning, guys, shuttup.”
“Sorry, Al. Scorpius is having girl troubles and he decided to come to the expert.”
Even half-asleep, Al was still flippant. He glanced around in confusion. “James is here?”
“You have a horrible taste in friends,” Louis said to Scorpius.
Scorpius patted his arm. “I know, but I love you anyway.”
“Scorp hasn’t dated a girl since Fourth Year,” Al yawned. “What kind of girl trouble’s he having now?”
“Just some unrequited love,” Louis said before Scorpius could smother him. Embarrassed and fuming, he did so anyway, pulling Louis’ head back on his lap and covering his face with a pillow. “Ooph! Hey! Mmph! Mmkjhkjg!”
“The girl’s stupid if she can’t see what a prize you are, Scorp,” Al said, ignoring his cousin’s cries for help. “You’re fit and smart and rich and a good person, all of which, according to Lily, girls find attractive. Whoever she is, she’s the one missing out.”
Louis’ screams turned to laughter. Scorpius loosened his hold on the pillow and slid back under the covers. “Would the two of you get out of my room please? Especially you, Louis.”
“I’d be happy to,” Louis said at the same time Al wished them both goodnight and Scorpius waited until the lights had gone off and their footsteps had faded away before he allowed himself to release the breath he’d been holding. Louis was a great friend, but he was also a giant git. Or maybe Scorpius just wasn’t ready to accept that ‘unrequited love’ was exactly why he’d left the country after graduation. He’d been hoping that the time away would help him get over Albus Severus Potter, but that had been too much to hope for.
His natural instincts were telling him it was time to leave again, to put as much distance between him and the boy asleep on his couch as possible, but Scorpius had been prepared for this. He’d applied for the Auror job in part to keep himself from taking off again. He wasn’t the type to quit. Not a job, at any rate.
“I just think it’s probably better if you don’t go too fast with him too soon. He might react… badly.”
“How bad is badly?” Scorpius whispered to himself as he closed his eyes and tried to find sleep. It never came.
A week later, Scorpius hadn’t been gone five minutes before the floo lit up and Teddy Lupin’s face floated in it. Louis, who was busy smoking a fag and writing lyrics from the latest Weird Sisters song on his arm, slid off the couch and went to sit in front of the fireplace, already smiling.
“I was starting to think you’d died.”
Teddy smiled back. “Almost. I had to take a portkey to Norway to report on those dragons and one of them nearly singed my hair off. Jamie was laughing for weeks when he heard.”
Louis tried to see if Teddy’s hair looked anywhere near as ridiculous as it should, but Teddy was wearing some sort of bowler hat and he couldn’t make out details in the flames anyway. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it into the fire, watching it flare before Teddy’s amused face returned.
“That,” Louis said honestly. “Sounds bloody hilarious.”
“I’m sure, you sadist. And, as a Molly Weasley public service announcement, smoking is bad for seventeen-year-old boys and if you don’t cut it out, she’ll smell the smoke on you like a bloodhound and skin you alive. How’re Al and Scorpius doing?”
“Ha,” said Louis, rather than pointing out that he'd turned eighteen last November, not that it mattered. “It’s absolutely sickening, actually. Al’s over here every day and he stays the night more often than not. I’m starting to worry that Scorpius is going to kick me out to better accommodate him.”
“Well, when your days become numbered, you’re welcome to stay in my flat. I’m never there these days anyway.”
Teddy was a reporter for the Daily Prophet, one who’d accepted the jobs on the grounds that he would never have to compromise his journalistic integrity and using old copies of the Prophet from 1995 as a look at what not to do. He was always taking the articles that required him to travel which meant that he was only around as long as it took it him to find another one and then he was off again.
Teddy said it was because he enjoyed traveling, but coincidences like the fact that the Chudley Cannons had just played against Karasjok Kites were a little hard to ignore. Teddy didn’t say it, but it was an unspoken fact that he just took jobs that let him travel to whatever part of the world James Potter was staying in.
“That’s Plan B. Plan A is keeping Scorpius from buggering up his friendship with Al,” Louis said, biting his lip. He just had the feeling that this would end badly for Scorpius and, honestly, Scorpius had suffered enough.
Sure, most of his misery was self-generated, but Scorpius had given him a place to hide out from his family and advice and friendship (and set him up with two of the Veelas he'd dated) and Louis loved him like a brother. He knew the last thing Scorpius wanted was to join the “Whomping Willow that is the ridiculously large Potter-Weasley clan”, but he also knew that Scorpius was irrevocably in love with Al and Al would, in all likelihood, freak.
“Is he still having those dreams?” Teddy asked sympathetically. He wasn’t as fond of Scorpius as Louis was, but he didn’t hate him like, oh, say, Uncle Ron did. Louis found that a bit convenient because when he was blinded by bias and affection, Teddy could usually look at Scorpius’ words and actions objectively and advise him on how to proceed. Teddy may have been nine years older than him, but he was still a great friend. “Still talking in his sleep?”
“Not so much anymore. I think he took a Potion for it. He doesn’t want Al to find out almost as much as he wants to tell him and get it over with.”
Teddy cleared his throat. “Yes, well, enough about them. I don’t suppose you’ve randomly acquired some career goals, have you?”
“Would you stop talking to Aunt Hermione?”
“Actually, I’ve been talking to Victoire-”
“I don’t understand what everyone’s problem is,” Louis said flatly. “Not everyone can graduate knowing exactly what they want to do. Scorpius didn’t and he’s doing alright for himself.”
“Scorpius doesn’t actually have to work. He’s rich.”
“Next time I see you, I am going to punch you in the face. Just so you know.”
“Alright, alright,” Teddy laughed. “I have things to do, anyway, and I was only asking on behalf of the family. Tell Al that James sent a present for him and he can come pick it up at my flat if he can actually catch me while I’m there.”
Louis hid a smile. “So James won his match, then?”
“Of course he did, but then it wasn’t much of a match.” Teddy said with absolutely no shame or embarrassment at having being caught. “Keep your chin up, Louis. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye,” Louis murmured as Teddy’s face faded from the fireplace. He drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them, his thoughts returning to Scorpius. Before, he’d viewed Scorpius’ feelings for Al as an endearing source of amusement, but now… “This will not end good. Not at all.”
Despite the sheer number of relatives to accommodate, Al was having a huge party at the end of April in honor of his and Teddy’s birthday. Except, Al had added when he’d told Scorpius about it after training, Teddy had to go to Portugal to write an article so the party was really just for Al this year.
Scorpius hadn’t wanted to go. The recruits were a month into Sneaking and Tracking and Scorpius usually spent his nights trying to sneak into his own flat and figuring out where Louis spent most of his time as practice. Louis was amused by the former and exasperated at the latter, but no one could accuse Scorpius Malfoy of slacking off when it came to his job. Besides, the look on Ron Weasley’s face when he expertly passed a test or simulation was worth it.
There was also the matter of Al’s family to contend with. Al had a huge family of Potters and Weasleys who definitely didn’t want a Malfoy in their midst. Aside from Al and Louis, Scorpius could only think of one or two who wouldn’t hex him if they crossed him in a dark alley. They looked at him and saw his father with glasses and Scorpius didn’t blame them so much as he just didn’t like being around the lot of them.
However, not going wasn’t an option. Al was his best friend and was joining the ranks of twenty year olds across England. Scorpius was practically required to be there.
The party took place at the Burrow and, just as Scorpius had feared, was really just one, huge family reunion. He didn’t know half of the redheads congregating in the kitchen, sitting room, and on the stairs, but they all glared at him just the same. Al, who looked like his father, Louis, who was blond like his mother, and James, who’d combined his parents’ hair-colors into a sort of red-brown, were the only three children who had escaped the flaming red Weasley hair trend.
Louis was in Ron Weasley’s old room, involved in a heated argument with his older sisters, Dominique the frequently-arrested freedom fighter and Victoire the freedom fighter who went through proper legal channels, and his mother, Fleur, in fluent French.
Al was in the kitchen being coddled by his mother, father, Aunt Hermione, and Grandma Molly, a plump, tough-as-nails homemaker with a pleasant face who greeted Scorpius as though he were one of her own. Scorpius had tried to stay at Al’s side, but he’d soon grown tired of the dirty looks Ginny Potter kept tossing at him over her shoulder and went to find a quiet place to think.
He caught Rose Weasley, who worked at the Ministry as an Unspeakable according to Al, casting a secretive look around before darting up the stairs and, half-curious, he followed her. She slipped past a redheaded boy of sixteen or seventeen that Scorpius was fairly sure was Lily’s constant companion, Hugo Weasley, two tall, bearded redheaded men that were probably uncles, and so on and so forth until they hit the Fourth Floor. Rather than entering Ron’s room and joining the heated French argument therein, she opened a hatch in the ceiling and climbed up the ladder. After a moment’s hesitation, Scorpius followed.
Rose didn’t jump when he stuck his head in, but she did look surprised. “Shouldn’t you be with Al?”
“Shouldn’t you?” he tossed back, climbing fully into the attic and pulling the hatch shut.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. A ghoul lives up here and we may need to make a hasty exit.”
Scorpius opened the hatch again and sat with one foot on the ladder. Just in case.
Rose pulled a small bottle out of the pocket of her skirt and popped it open, taking a long drag and handing it to Scorpius. “I bloody hate these things. Everybody’s so loud and right on top of one another.”
“The lot of you could form your own small nation, if you wanted,” Scorpius said as he accepted the bottle gratefully. He and Rose weren’t friends the way he and Al were, but they did have a high degree of respect for one another’s intellectual capacity. They also had the same opinions on a variety of things; one could almost call them likeminded, much to her father’s dismay. Scorpius was sure that it was Ron Weasley’s greatest fear that they start to fancy one another. Luckily for him, Scorpius had never entirely been on that particular side of the fence, as it were. “Or your own Quidditch league.”
“We could, couldn’t we?” Rose said grumpily. “There’s Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur and then Dad and Mum and me and Hugo and Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry and James and Al and Lil and Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur and Dominique and Victoire and Louis and Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey and Molly and Lucy and-”
“You’re giving me a headache.”
“I’m giving myself a headache! I have about six uncles and four aunts and far too many cousins. Thank goodness Uncle Charlie’s still a bachelor.”
Scorpius passed the bottle back to her and she finished it all and tossed it aside, the clinking sound of it hitting the floor drawing a louder clank from the other side of the attic. Scorpius inched further toward the hatch, searching the darkness for a glimpse of the ghoul.
“It’s too bad James and Teddy couldn’t make it, even if it does give us that much more space in the house,” Rose said, rubbing her eyes. “I suppose we’d better get down there. I don’t hear anymore French so either Louis has Apparated out of here or it’s time to sing Happy Birthday to Al.”
The two of them climbed carefully down the ladder, closed the hatch, and walked back down the winding staircase and into the kitchen.
Al was sitting at the table, surrounded by his army of redheaded relatives. Louis was slouching between his sisters by the back door and smoking, tipping his ashes out the door every few minutes. He looked to be in a right mood and Scorpius dreaded going back to the flat with him tonight. Louis was belligerent with everyone when he was upset.
Molly brought a rather large cake into the room, singing, “Happy birthday to you…” and ignoring as one of Al’s uncles and his son began ad-libbing inappropriate lyrics to the age-old song.
She set the cake down in front of Al, who waited until everyone had finished singing, met Scorpius’ eye, and blew out all the candles. The kitchen erupted in cheers that made Rose and Scorpius wince. Whatever Rose had had in that bottle was strong stuff. He felt buzzed already.
Harry Potter stepped forward to cut the cake and Rose clapped Scorpius reassuringly on the arm and went to get them both a slice. Scorpius waited until Victoire and Dominique had gone to get their slices before slipping around to Louis’ side of the kitchen and slouching next to him.
“Family reunions are wicked fun, aren’t they?” he asked pleasantly, hiding a smile at the venomous glare he received. “What’d they say?”
“They want to send me out to Romania to work with dragons with Uncle Charlie,” Louis hissed, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Can you believe that? Hugo’s the one interested in animals, not me. I’m not getting my hair burnt off by some dangerous animal the size of my house. Bloody good thing I didn’t tell Victoire where I was staying. She’s taking Mum’s side!”
The rest of what he said was in French and very, very livid. Scorpius didn’t ask him to translate.
Rose caught up with him, handed him a plate with a decent-sized piece of cake, and slouched on his other side. Scorpius wasn’t particularly hungry. He handed his slice to Louis, who took his anger out on it with each overly-vicious stab and bite.
“I think eet eez time for ze presents!” Fleur Weasley said, tossing her golden blond hair over her shoulder. “Charlie and George, if you would do ze honors?”
“Gladly,” said either Charlie or George as he and another stocky, freckled redheaded man left the room. They both returned with armfuls of presents and Al, a notorious lover of gifts, lit up like a Christmas tree.
“I got him a copy of Witch Weekly,” Rose whispered proudly. “There’s an interview with James about the new combined Quidditch League and, in one section, James talks all about his relationship with Al. I figured he’d like it since James would never say any of that stuff to Al’s face unless there was a loaded wand pressed to his head.”
“Charming,” Scorpius whispered back. “He’ll get his present from me later, provided none of your relatives skin me alive first.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Louis said, making no effort to lower his voice. “Everybody’s too involved with my problems to bother with you.”
The nearby Weasleys turned to glare at them both. Scorpius manfully resisted banging his head against the wall. Louis’ head, that was.
Rose had no such qualms. “You’d better shut your mouth, Louis, because I know quite a few spells to shut it for you.”
Louis shut his mouth.
Rose only hung around long enough to get a hug from Al in appreciation for her gift before she was dragging Louis outside so he could cool his head. Scorpius slipped out with them. Al had already accumulated a mountain of presents from cousins alone and he still had a mountain left to go.
As soon as they were out in the yard, Louis put out his current fag and pulled out another. Rose pulled it out of his mouth and squashed it under her foot. “Talk out your problems, you nicotine addict. And stop causing a scene. It’s Al’s birthday, not Louis’ whine-day.”
“Oh, that’s clever,” Scorpius said with a chuckle that faded at the look on Louis’ face. “Sorry, mate.”
Louis exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his uneven locks. “It’s not-you didn’t do anything. Mum just makes me batty sometimes. Victoire’s practically running Werewolf Support Services and Dominique just narrowly escaped being sent to Azkaban for handcuffing herself to the Knight Bus in support of house elf rights-”
“She didn’t know that they were being paid to start making the beds on the bus,” Rose explained to Scorpius. “And that Hermione was approving it on a trial basis.”
“Which, I guess, makes me the middle ground. I didn’t use ambition to help me get over breaking up with my almost-fiancée like Victoire and I’m not criminally insane like Dominique. I’m just Louis. That should be enough.”
“‘Just Louis’ needs to eat and pay rent,” Scorpius reminded him.
“I pay rent.”
“Playing Exploding Snap for money does not guarantee you’ll always be able to pay rent, Louis.”
“How did you-”
“Are you serious? Giants are harder to track than you.”
Louis sighed and looked away, fingers twitching. It was obvious he wanted a smoke. Rose stepped forward and pulled her little cousin into a hug.
“Don’t let them stress you out. Take this time to figure out what you like and what you like that you can get paid for. You’re a bright kid, Louis. You’re just confused.”
Louis relaxed into the hug and Scorpius, feeling out of place, mumbled something about giving Al his gift and went back into the house.
The kitchen was significantly less empty than it had been before. Al was still sitting by his mountain of gifts, but only Molly Weasley, who was cleaning the empty plates, and Al’s parents, who were having a quiet discussion by the fridge, were still present. Everyone else must have wandered off or went home.
Al looked up as he entered and then smiled brightly. “Hey, you. I didn’t see a present from you in here.”
Aware that all three adults were probably hanging on his every word, Scorpius kept his eyes on Al as he said, “It’s sort of private. Come with me, would you?”
Al got up without hesitation and followed Scorpius out of the kitchen, down the narrow passageway and up the stairs. The first room he came to was devoid of Weasleys and so Scorpius led Al inside and closed the door.
When he turned, Al was observing the Weird Sisters and Holyhead Harpies posters. “This used to be my Mum’s room. Uncle Ron said James was nearly conceived in here.”
Scorpius ignored that disturbing train of thought and opened the window, Accioing Al’s present from where he’d hidden it in the bushes. The broomstick flew up the side of the house and into the room, stopping in front of Al with a flick of Scorpius’ wand.
Al’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he grabbed hold of the intricately carved oak handle. “You got me an Oblivion 360? These won’t even be out for another eight months!”
‘Only the best for you’ sounded too cheesy and ‘I’ve got connections’ sounded arrogant and vaguely ominous. Scorpius settled for, “You wanted it.”
“I did. Do. I can’t even believe you-this is wicked. Even James only has the 180! He’ll go bonkers!”
“Then it’s a present for me, too. Read the inscription.”
Al stopped staring at the broom long enough to give Scorpius a puzzled look, then ran his hand over the handle until he found the words carved near the bottom.
“‘One loyal friend is worth ten thousand relatives.’” he read, cracking a smile. “Scorp…”
Al set the broom down on his mother’s old bed and then turned, hugging Scorpius and resting his head on Scorpius’ shoulder. For once, Scorpius didn’t tense up. He immediately hugged Al back.
“‘m sorry,” Al whispered. “There are just so many people to say hi to. No one gave you a hard time today, did they?”
Al smelled like chocolate and sweat. It was oddly intoxicating. “No, I hung around with Rose and Louis, the only two sane ones in here.”
“Hey now,” said Al, lifting his head to glare playfully. “I’m plenty sane.”
“Says you.”
Al grinned, but didn’t remove his arms from Scorpius’ waist. Scorpius, head swimming pleasantly, felt overwhelmed. All he could see was Al and he smelled Al’s unique scent with every inhale and his body was warm in all the places Al was touching him. He wasn’t drunk-no more drunk than he’d been since leaving the attic-but he felt intoxicated. Al’s eyes had softened and darkened to a shade of green that reminded Scorpius of his bed sheets although a bed was the last thing he needed to be thinking of holding Al like he was.
“Thanks,” Al murmured, not breaking eye contact. Scorpius’ heart was pounding very loudly in his ears, his breath beginning to thin. Surely Al must have noticed something. “This is the best birthday present ever.”
Scorpius’ arms loosened around Al’s waist, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually let go. He knew he should because he knew that if he didn’t, he would say those words that would dissolve their friendship like sugar in water. Or, worse, try to steal a kiss.
“I just think it’s probably better if you don’t go too fast with him too soon. He might react… badly.”
“If you fancied James Potter, would you tell him?”
“Just some unrequited love.”
He kissed him.
Scorpius’ eyes went wide with shock, but the soft lips pressing firmly against his own were unmistakably Al’s. Too stunned to respond, he stood like an ice sculpture as Al, his eyes closed, tilted his head to the side and slowly, carefully brushed his lips over Scorpius’ again and again.
Scorpius couldn’t hear anything over his own heartbeat, couldn’t feel anything but a flare of hidden hope and overwhelming want from their point of intimate contact. Before he could regain his senses, Al had shoved him roughly.
Scorpius made a small noise of pain as his back hit the door, but Al swallowed it as he pressed himself against Scorpius’ chest and slid his tongue into Scorpius’ slightly open mouth. What had been a chaste and careful kiss turned dirty within an instant and it was the sharp spike of desire that snapped Scorpius’ out of his stupor.
He grabbed Al’s hips, tilted his head the other way, and took control of the kiss, sucking on Al’s tongue and sliding a hand under Al’s shirt until Al was a groaning, quivering mass in his arms. Al whispered his name like a prayer and, with a needy moan, Scorpius walked him back in what he hoped was the general direction of the bed, the heat rushing to his head and further down, making it hard to think of anything but more.
Al gasped in surprise as the back of his knees hit the bed and, sweeping the racing broom off the side, Scorpius pushed Al down and climbed on top of him. It was Al who reached up, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and fused their lips together again and Al who hissed in pleasure as Scorpius’ knee brushed the obvious bulge in his trousers.
It was Al, Scorpius thought recklessly as he made a valiant effort to locate Al’s tonsils with his tongue, It’s always been Al.
He didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs or Ginny Weasley calling for her son, but Al did. His eyes popped open just as Scorpius was about to leave a series of embarrassing marks on his neck and he turned his head to the side, panting.
“Stop it.”
Those two words were as effective as a cold shower. Tingling all over, and no longer from pleasure, Scorpius sat up and tried to breathe evenly. Al reached up to cover his mouth with a hand, drawing the rest of his limbs up until no part of him was touching any part of Scorpius, which left him curled into a fetal position by Scorpius’ knees.
“Merlin,” he breathed, words muffled. “That never-I’m not-I’m not-”
Ginny Weasley called again, reminding Scorpius that there was, in fact, a world outside this bedroom. Al scrambled off the bed and grabbed his broom.
“I think,” he swallowed without looking in Scorpius’ direction. “That you shouldn’t be here when I come back. If,” he added. “I come back.”
Scorpius felt as though someone had slapped him. “Al-”
“I’m not like that,” Al said sharply, angry and anguished and ashamed. “And I don’t like you like that. This never happened!”
“Al-”
“Just go!” said Al, and left.
Scorpius heard Al call back down to his Mom as his voice and footsteps faded down to the ground floor. He heard the familiar French argument going on in the orchard below, ending with a loud scream of, “Je pars!” and the crack of an Apparation.
The room, which had been so clear before, grew blurry the longer Scorpius knelt on Ginny Weasley’s bed in Ginny Weasley’s old room at the Burrow where he was even less welcome than he had been before. He heard footsteps on the stairs and quickly stood, blinking rapidly and wiping his eyes, then Apparated away without a word.
The flat was too bright when he got home, but that could have been the amount of Firewhisky he’d had to compensate for how empty he felt. Louis was in the kitchen, cooking to calm his temper which would be great if everything didn’t come out smoky because he tended to smoke while he did it. Scorpius no longer ate the supposedly edible products of Louis’ anger; he’d found a cigarette butt in his porridge once.
He swaggered into his room and tugged off his shirt and one shoe before he forgot why he was undressing to begin with. He caught sight of himself in the nearby wall mirror and laughed slightly hysterically. He looked as awful as he felt. His hair, normally white-blond and impeccably coifed, was grimy and messy from the butterbeer that he’d dumped over his head at the bar. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he just felt sticky. There were bags beneath his eyes, magnified by his glasses, and he was almost as white as his shirt.
And it had only been an hour.
“I’m making waffles if you-bloody hell, what happened?” Louis said, appearing in the doorway. He hurried in and pressed the back of his hand against Scorpius’ forehead, then wrinkled his noise as the potent smell of alcohol hit him. “How did you get so drunk between when you left the backyard and now? Did you and Al do shots?”
Scorpius felt something inside him break all over again. His legs stopped supporting him and he collapsed onto the bed, trying not to cry like the thirteen year old girl he so obviously was.
“Scorpius, what happened?” asked Louis, pushing him back onto the pillows and removing his other shoe, as well as both his socks and his belt. “You and Al get in a fight? Someone say something to you at the party? You’re scaring me, mate.”
He looked up at Louis with his dangly earring and his nicotine breath and his awful hair and almost felt like lashing out. The impulse died as quickly as it had come and he closed his eyes instead. “Al-Albus Severus Potter no longer… wishes to be my friend…”
“What? Who told you that? You know they’re lying, Scorpius. Al would never-”
“He told me himself. After,” Scorpius added with a bitter laugh. “After he snogged me.”
“What?”
“He did. He said… he said, ‘Scorpius, I am not a gigantic poufter like you so obviously are an’ I want you to get the bloody hell out of my house before I call my uncles to beat your pansy arse.’ In those words.”
Louis finished tugging off his pants and pulled the covers up over Scorpius’ suddenly shivering body. His expression was sympathetic. “I knew something like this would happen.”
“Didja know Al was going to start and finish it? Because I was in the dark about that.”
“Sleep off that Firewhisky. I’ll make you a hangover potion and leave it by your bedside for tomorrow morning. I also don’t think you should go to work tomorrow.”
Louis said more, but his voice was beginning to sound more and more distant, like an echo of a soft voice at the other end of a cave. The last thing Scorpius remembered was the brush of lips on his forehead-soft, like Al’s kiss had been at first-before he was caught in the grip of sleep.
Rewind || Forward
the world has its shine (i would drop it on a dime) [2/4]
otempora01, rated PG-13 for kissing, swearing, sexual situations, and Al’s virgin eyes.
Harry Potter, AS/S, m/m, post-series.
Scorpius may have joined the Aurors of his own free will, but he stayed for Albus Severus.
Part 2 complete in 6,658 words.
*
Give me a reason (I don't believe a word)
To end this discussion (of anything I've heard)
To break with tradition (they tell me that it's not so hard)
To fold and divide (it's not so hard)
So let's not get carried (away with everything)
Away with the process (from here to in-between)
of elimination (the long goodbye)
I don't want to waste your time.
-Everything Is Alright by Motion City Soundtrack
*
The more time passed since Scorpius joined the Aurors, the more Al realized that nothing had changed between them. Not really. Scorpius had always been worldly and sophisticated so Al felt in no way daunted by the people he must have met and the things he must have seen in their year apart.
And, regardless, Scorpius valued their friendship as much as ever. Al grew fond of starting conversations with, “Remember when we…” or “Tell me all about…” and, even though they went hours without seeing each other due to their separate training regimens, they always managed to pick up right where they’d left off in their last conversation.
“I swear, your uncle’s trying to kill me,” Scorpius complained one day in March as they dropped by the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate Scorpius’ birthday with some butterbeer and whining before he had to go home for a birthday dinner. “He kept conjuring snakes and throwing them at us. When are we ever going to have to save the world from a bunch of evil snakes?”
“I think it was a symbolic exercise,” Al said sagely. “He never did forgive me for being sorted into Slytherin and making friends with you.”
“I think it’s more my father’s fault than yours. Although he still claims your uncle started it.”
Al waved down old Tom’s daughter, Elain, and ordered two butterbeers for them, then leaned forward and smirked. “I know your secret.”
“Do you?” Scorpius was staring at him blankly, but Al wasn’t fooled. Scorpius’ nostrils flared when he was nervous and Al could practically see his brain up his nose.
“Yes, or were you eventually planning to tell me that the Louis you’re sharing a flat with is, in fact, my cousin Louis Weasley?”
Al could have sworn that Scorpius seemed relieved, but that was replaced by amusement in an instant. “Louis is a good mate and he told me not to tell anyone where he was staying. Unlike you, he’s far less willing to endure the backlash that comes with being my friend.”
Al grinned at the gratitude in Scorpius’ eyes.
“How did you find out anyway?”
“I dropped by your apartment early so we could floo in to the Ministry together and I heard the shower going. I wanted to give you a good scare and-well, let’s just say that Aunt Fleur isn’t going to be pleased about that dragon tattoo on Louis’ arsecheek.”
Scorpius began to laugh as Elain brought their butterbeer, covering his mouth and turning away from her, his shoulders shaking silently. Al knew he was trying to get himself under control. The only person he truly lost it around was Al and Al alone. No one else had ever seen him laugh as loudly or smile as easily as he did with Al.
Elain wandered away and Al watched Scorpius’ blond hair fall into his eyes and over the top of his glasses and a delicate hand reach up to brush it away and grey eyes focus on him in amusement that faded to confusion. “What are you staring at?”
“Huh? Oh. Nothing. You. You don’t laugh much in public.”
“Yes, well. Malfoy family protocol requires all public laughs to be at other people’s expense so I doubt my father will be too upset. Especially not tonight. He tries to act the model father in front of Granddad Lucius.” Scorpius clinked his bottle against Al’s and took a long sip. “Anyway, Louis’ got that tattoo the night before we left Paris. He was pissed, I was pissed, and it seemed like a good idea at the time…”
“Merlin, please tell me you have one, too.”
Scorpius’ cheeks turned pink. “You will never know where it is.”
“Is it on your arsecheek? You have to show me. I’m your best mate!”
“It is not on my arse and I do not have to show you. Drink your bloody beer.”
“It’s actually called butterbeer and it was developed in-oh, alright, don’t glare at me like that. I’m drinking.”
“After graduation,” Scorpius said quietly, fiddling with the edge of his tie. “After graduation, I’m going to Paris.”
Al, who was bouncing up and down on his suitcase in an effort to close it, stopped. “What? How come?”
“No reason,” Scorpius lied. “I just don’t think I can stand going home and telling Dad I have no idea what I want to do. I think my Dad wants me to play Quidditch or something.”
“James wants to play Quidditch,” Al said, smiling as Scorpius made a face. “You two should play on the same team.”
“Well, if I wasn’t eager to go before…”
Al’s smile faded and he looked down at his dangling legs in silence. Scorpius couldn’t tell whether he was searching for something to say to make Scorpius stay, trying to think of a way to get his parents to let him go with Scorpius, or trying to deal with the news. He hoped it was the latter specifically because the rest of him hoped it wasn’t.
“My aunt and uncle have a chateau in France,” Al began and Scorpius’ resolve strengthened. He turned away and began to check and double check that all of his suitcases were closed.
“I won’t be in Paris long. I’ll be traveling around a lot. Seeing the world and all that.” He paused to let that sink in. “I’ll write.”
It was quiet for a very long time before Al said in a very small voice, “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll write,” he repeated and really meant ‘I love you.’
“Promise?”
“Of course.”
It was quiet again and then arms encircled his waist and Al’s face pressed against his shoulder blade and Scorpius had to close his eyes and bite the inside of his cheek to keep from whirling around and pinning Al to the bed. He placed an awkward hand over Al’s on his stomach.
“I’ll only be gone about a year. Maybe two. 130-days will pass before you know it and then I’ll be back.”
Al didn’t answer, simply turned his head and inhaled deeply. Scorpius knew he was smelling his imported cologne. Al was partially impressed by, partially obsessed with, and partially incredulous of cologne that smelled so good, but cost so much. Which was exactly why Scorpius had bought it.
“Is your uterus hurting, Potter?” said one of the Crabbe twins as he entered the dormitory and grabbed his dufflebag. “Because I’m pretty sure Malfoy doesn’t keep any potions for that in his robes.”
Al released him to shout a barrage of vile epithets that would make even his manly mother blush and Scorpius gripped the handle of his suitcase so tightly his knuckles turned white. If Crabbe hadn’t come… Merlin, if Crabbe hadn’t come…
Al ended his rant by throwing the nearest object, an old copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, at Crabbe’s head and Scorpius was forced to beat back his personal demons before Al beat Crabbe into oblivion. He took a deep breath and turned. He had to get out of England and fast.
Scorpius awoke with a start, sitting up and smashing his forehead against Louis’. They both cried out in pain, although Louis’ exclamation was laced with curses and Scorpius’ was much more dignified. Holding a hand to his hopefully unbruised forehead, he groped for his glasses, slipped them on, and glowered at the unwelcome interruption to what was turning out to be a fairly accurate representation of why coming back to London had been a bad idea.
He groaned and fell back on the pillow. “What do you want?”
“You were saying Al’s name in your sleep, you twit,” Louis snapped, looking very disgruntled for someone who’d just climbed into another person’s bed to wake them up. “He’s asleep on our couch. Do you want to reveal your big gay crush on, and thereby come out to, him all in one night? Are you trying to give him a heart attack?”
Scorpius’ entire face went red and he was suddenly happy it was the middle of the night. Louis shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed as opposed to on Scorpius’ legs and then something he’d said finally made it to Scorpius’ tired brain.
“You… you think he’d have a heart attack if I told him?”
Louis gave him an incredulous look but, when he saw that Scorpius was serious, he looked instead at the sleeping dragon figurine Al had given Scorpius for his birthday. “I’m pretty sure Al fancies girls. I mean, we don’t talk much about sexual preferences, but he’s given no indication that he thinks of you as-I could ask Rose, if you want?”
But Scorpius was already drawing the covers up over his head and wanting to floo home and get a hug from his Mum.
“I just think it’s probably better if you don’t go too fast with him too soon. He might react… badly. Weasleys and Potters are known for their tempers and Al’s got both swimming around in his blood stream. And James Potter’s his brother. If you fancied James Potter, would you tell him?”
Scorpius lowered the cover just enough to glower at Louis, as ineffective as it was in the dark. “James Potter can go and bugger himself with his own broomstick.”
Louis found that much funnier than it was. Scorpius waited patiently for him to stop snickering.
The bedroom lights went on and they turned to see Al leaning against the doorpost, like he’d drop back to sleep if he didn’t have it there to hold him up. “It’s arse o’clock in the morning, guys, shuttup.”
“Sorry, Al. Scorpius is having girl troubles and he decided to come to the expert.”
Even half-asleep, Al was still flippant. He glanced around in confusion. “James is here?”
“You have a horrible taste in friends,” Louis said to Scorpius.
Scorpius patted his arm. “I know, but I love you anyway.”
“Scorp hasn’t dated a girl since Fourth Year,” Al yawned. “What kind of girl trouble’s he having now?”
“Just some unrequited love,” Louis said before Scorpius could smother him. Embarrassed and fuming, he did so anyway, pulling Louis’ head back on his lap and covering his face with a pillow. “Ooph! Hey! Mmph! Mmkjhkjg!”
“The girl’s stupid if she can’t see what a prize you are, Scorp,” Al said, ignoring his cousin’s cries for help. “You’re fit and smart and rich and a good person, all of which, according to Lily, girls find attractive. Whoever she is, she’s the one missing out.”
Louis’ screams turned to laughter. Scorpius loosened his hold on the pillow and slid back under the covers. “Would the two of you get out of my room please? Especially you, Louis.”
“I’d be happy to,” Louis said at the same time Al wished them both goodnight and Scorpius waited until the lights had gone off and their footsteps had faded away before he allowed himself to release the breath he’d been holding. Louis was a great friend, but he was also a giant git. Or maybe Scorpius just wasn’t ready to accept that ‘unrequited love’ was exactly why he’d left the country after graduation. He’d been hoping that the time away would help him get over Albus Severus Potter, but that had been too much to hope for.
His natural instincts were telling him it was time to leave again, to put as much distance between him and the boy asleep on his couch as possible, but Scorpius had been prepared for this. He’d applied for the Auror job in part to keep himself from taking off again. He wasn’t the type to quit. Not a job, at any rate.
“I just think it’s probably better if you don’t go too fast with him too soon. He might react… badly.”
“How bad is badly?” Scorpius whispered to himself as he closed his eyes and tried to find sleep. It never came.
A week later, Scorpius hadn’t been gone five minutes before the floo lit up and Teddy Lupin’s face floated in it. Louis, who was busy smoking a fag and writing lyrics from the latest Weird Sisters song on his arm, slid off the couch and went to sit in front of the fireplace, already smiling.
“I was starting to think you’d died.”
Teddy smiled back. “Almost. I had to take a portkey to Norway to report on those dragons and one of them nearly singed my hair off. Jamie was laughing for weeks when he heard.”
Louis tried to see if Teddy’s hair looked anywhere near as ridiculous as it should, but Teddy was wearing some sort of bowler hat and he couldn’t make out details in the flames anyway. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it into the fire, watching it flare before Teddy’s amused face returned.
“That,” Louis said honestly. “Sounds bloody hilarious.”
“I’m sure, you sadist. And, as a Molly Weasley public service announcement, smoking is bad for seventeen-year-old boys and if you don’t cut it out, she’ll smell the smoke on you like a bloodhound and skin you alive. How’re Al and Scorpius doing?”
“Ha,” said Louis, rather than pointing out that he'd turned eighteen last November, not that it mattered. “It’s absolutely sickening, actually. Al’s over here every day and he stays the night more often than not. I’m starting to worry that Scorpius is going to kick me out to better accommodate him.”
“Well, when your days become numbered, you’re welcome to stay in my flat. I’m never there these days anyway.”
Teddy was a reporter for the Daily Prophet, one who’d accepted the jobs on the grounds that he would never have to compromise his journalistic integrity and using old copies of the Prophet from 1995 as a look at what not to do. He was always taking the articles that required him to travel which meant that he was only around as long as it took it him to find another one and then he was off again.
Teddy said it was because he enjoyed traveling, but coincidences like the fact that the Chudley Cannons had just played against Karasjok Kites were a little hard to ignore. Teddy didn’t say it, but it was an unspoken fact that he just took jobs that let him travel to whatever part of the world James Potter was staying in.
“That’s Plan B. Plan A is keeping Scorpius from buggering up his friendship with Al,” Louis said, biting his lip. He just had the feeling that this would end badly for Scorpius and, honestly, Scorpius had suffered enough.
Sure, most of his misery was self-generated, but Scorpius had given him a place to hide out from his family and advice and friendship (and set him up with two of the Veelas he'd dated) and Louis loved him like a brother. He knew the last thing Scorpius wanted was to join the “Whomping Willow that is the ridiculously large Potter-Weasley clan”, but he also knew that Scorpius was irrevocably in love with Al and Al would, in all likelihood, freak.
“Is he still having those dreams?” Teddy asked sympathetically. He wasn’t as fond of Scorpius as Louis was, but he didn’t hate him like, oh, say, Uncle Ron did. Louis found that a bit convenient because when he was blinded by bias and affection, Teddy could usually look at Scorpius’ words and actions objectively and advise him on how to proceed. Teddy may have been nine years older than him, but he was still a great friend. “Still talking in his sleep?”
“Not so much anymore. I think he took a Potion for it. He doesn’t want Al to find out almost as much as he wants to tell him and get it over with.”
Teddy cleared his throat. “Yes, well, enough about them. I don’t suppose you’ve randomly acquired some career goals, have you?”
“Would you stop talking to Aunt Hermione?”
“Actually, I’ve been talking to Victoire-”
“I don’t understand what everyone’s problem is,” Louis said flatly. “Not everyone can graduate knowing exactly what they want to do. Scorpius didn’t and he’s doing alright for himself.”
“Scorpius doesn’t actually have to work. He’s rich.”
“Next time I see you, I am going to punch you in the face. Just so you know.”
“Alright, alright,” Teddy laughed. “I have things to do, anyway, and I was only asking on behalf of the family. Tell Al that James sent a present for him and he can come pick it up at my flat if he can actually catch me while I’m there.”
Louis hid a smile. “So James won his match, then?”
“Of course he did, but then it wasn’t much of a match.” Teddy said with absolutely no shame or embarrassment at having being caught. “Keep your chin up, Louis. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye,” Louis murmured as Teddy’s face faded from the fireplace. He drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them, his thoughts returning to Scorpius. Before, he’d viewed Scorpius’ feelings for Al as an endearing source of amusement, but now… “This will not end good. Not at all.”
Despite the sheer number of relatives to accommodate, Al was having a huge party at the end of April in honor of his and Teddy’s birthday. Except, Al had added when he’d told Scorpius about it after training, Teddy had to go to Portugal to write an article so the party was really just for Al this year.
Scorpius hadn’t wanted to go. The recruits were a month into Sneaking and Tracking and Scorpius usually spent his nights trying to sneak into his own flat and figuring out where Louis spent most of his time as practice. Louis was amused by the former and exasperated at the latter, but no one could accuse Scorpius Malfoy of slacking off when it came to his job. Besides, the look on Ron Weasley’s face when he expertly passed a test or simulation was worth it.
There was also the matter of Al’s family to contend with. Al had a huge family of Potters and Weasleys who definitely didn’t want a Malfoy in their midst. Aside from Al and Louis, Scorpius could only think of one or two who wouldn’t hex him if they crossed him in a dark alley. They looked at him and saw his father with glasses and Scorpius didn’t blame them so much as he just didn’t like being around the lot of them.
However, not going wasn’t an option. Al was his best friend and was joining the ranks of twenty year olds across England. Scorpius was practically required to be there.
The party took place at the Burrow and, just as Scorpius had feared, was really just one, huge family reunion. He didn’t know half of the redheads congregating in the kitchen, sitting room, and on the stairs, but they all glared at him just the same. Al, who looked like his father, Louis, who was blond like his mother, and James, who’d combined his parents’ hair-colors into a sort of red-brown, were the only three children who had escaped the flaming red Weasley hair trend.
Louis was in Ron Weasley’s old room, involved in a heated argument with his older sisters, Dominique the frequently-arrested freedom fighter and Victoire the freedom fighter who went through proper legal channels, and his mother, Fleur, in fluent French.
Al was in the kitchen being coddled by his mother, father, Aunt Hermione, and Grandma Molly, a plump, tough-as-nails homemaker with a pleasant face who greeted Scorpius as though he were one of her own. Scorpius had tried to stay at Al’s side, but he’d soon grown tired of the dirty looks Ginny Potter kept tossing at him over her shoulder and went to find a quiet place to think.
He caught Rose Weasley, who worked at the Ministry as an Unspeakable according to Al, casting a secretive look around before darting up the stairs and, half-curious, he followed her. She slipped past a redheaded boy of sixteen or seventeen that Scorpius was fairly sure was Lily’s constant companion, Hugo Weasley, two tall, bearded redheaded men that were probably uncles, and so on and so forth until they hit the Fourth Floor. Rather than entering Ron’s room and joining the heated French argument therein, she opened a hatch in the ceiling and climbed up the ladder. After a moment’s hesitation, Scorpius followed.
Rose didn’t jump when he stuck his head in, but she did look surprised. “Shouldn’t you be with Al?”
“Shouldn’t you?” he tossed back, climbing fully into the attic and pulling the hatch shut.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. A ghoul lives up here and we may need to make a hasty exit.”
Scorpius opened the hatch again and sat with one foot on the ladder. Just in case.
Rose pulled a small bottle out of the pocket of her skirt and popped it open, taking a long drag and handing it to Scorpius. “I bloody hate these things. Everybody’s so loud and right on top of one another.”
“The lot of you could form your own small nation, if you wanted,” Scorpius said as he accepted the bottle gratefully. He and Rose weren’t friends the way he and Al were, but they did have a high degree of respect for one another’s intellectual capacity. They also had the same opinions on a variety of things; one could almost call them likeminded, much to her father’s dismay. Scorpius was sure that it was Ron Weasley’s greatest fear that they start to fancy one another. Luckily for him, Scorpius had never entirely been on that particular side of the fence, as it were. “Or your own Quidditch league.”
“We could, couldn’t we?” Rose said grumpily. “There’s Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur and then Dad and Mum and me and Hugo and Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry and James and Al and Lil and Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur and Dominique and Victoire and Louis and Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey and Molly and Lucy and-”
“You’re giving me a headache.”
“I’m giving myself a headache! I have about six uncles and four aunts and far too many cousins. Thank goodness Uncle Charlie’s still a bachelor.”
Scorpius passed the bottle back to her and she finished it all and tossed it aside, the clinking sound of it hitting the floor drawing a louder clank from the other side of the attic. Scorpius inched further toward the hatch, searching the darkness for a glimpse of the ghoul.
“It’s too bad James and Teddy couldn’t make it, even if it does give us that much more space in the house,” Rose said, rubbing her eyes. “I suppose we’d better get down there. I don’t hear anymore French so either Louis has Apparated out of here or it’s time to sing Happy Birthday to Al.”
The two of them climbed carefully down the ladder, closed the hatch, and walked back down the winding staircase and into the kitchen.
Al was sitting at the table, surrounded by his army of redheaded relatives. Louis was slouching between his sisters by the back door and smoking, tipping his ashes out the door every few minutes. He looked to be in a right mood and Scorpius dreaded going back to the flat with him tonight. Louis was belligerent with everyone when he was upset.
Molly brought a rather large cake into the room, singing, “Happy birthday to you…” and ignoring as one of Al’s uncles and his son began ad-libbing inappropriate lyrics to the age-old song.
She set the cake down in front of Al, who waited until everyone had finished singing, met Scorpius’ eye, and blew out all the candles. The kitchen erupted in cheers that made Rose and Scorpius wince. Whatever Rose had had in that bottle was strong stuff. He felt buzzed already.
Harry Potter stepped forward to cut the cake and Rose clapped Scorpius reassuringly on the arm and went to get them both a slice. Scorpius waited until Victoire and Dominique had gone to get their slices before slipping around to Louis’ side of the kitchen and slouching next to him.
“Family reunions are wicked fun, aren’t they?” he asked pleasantly, hiding a smile at the venomous glare he received. “What’d they say?”
“They want to send me out to Romania to work with dragons with Uncle Charlie,” Louis hissed, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Can you believe that? Hugo’s the one interested in animals, not me. I’m not getting my hair burnt off by some dangerous animal the size of my house. Bloody good thing I didn’t tell Victoire where I was staying. She’s taking Mum’s side!”
The rest of what he said was in French and very, very livid. Scorpius didn’t ask him to translate.
Rose caught up with him, handed him a plate with a decent-sized piece of cake, and slouched on his other side. Scorpius wasn’t particularly hungry. He handed his slice to Louis, who took his anger out on it with each overly-vicious stab and bite.
“I think eet eez time for ze presents!” Fleur Weasley said, tossing her golden blond hair over her shoulder. “Charlie and George, if you would do ze honors?”
“Gladly,” said either Charlie or George as he and another stocky, freckled redheaded man left the room. They both returned with armfuls of presents and Al, a notorious lover of gifts, lit up like a Christmas tree.
“I got him a copy of Witch Weekly,” Rose whispered proudly. “There’s an interview with James about the new combined Quidditch League and, in one section, James talks all about his relationship with Al. I figured he’d like it since James would never say any of that stuff to Al’s face unless there was a loaded wand pressed to his head.”
“Charming,” Scorpius whispered back. “He’ll get his present from me later, provided none of your relatives skin me alive first.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Louis said, making no effort to lower his voice. “Everybody’s too involved with my problems to bother with you.”
The nearby Weasleys turned to glare at them both. Scorpius manfully resisted banging his head against the wall. Louis’ head, that was.
Rose had no such qualms. “You’d better shut your mouth, Louis, because I know quite a few spells to shut it for you.”
Louis shut his mouth.
Rose only hung around long enough to get a hug from Al in appreciation for her gift before she was dragging Louis outside so he could cool his head. Scorpius slipped out with them. Al had already accumulated a mountain of presents from cousins alone and he still had a mountain left to go.
As soon as they were out in the yard, Louis put out his current fag and pulled out another. Rose pulled it out of his mouth and squashed it under her foot. “Talk out your problems, you nicotine addict. And stop causing a scene. It’s Al’s birthday, not Louis’ whine-day.”
“Oh, that’s clever,” Scorpius said with a chuckle that faded at the look on Louis’ face. “Sorry, mate.”
Louis exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his uneven locks. “It’s not-you didn’t do anything. Mum just makes me batty sometimes. Victoire’s practically running Werewolf Support Services and Dominique just narrowly escaped being sent to Azkaban for handcuffing herself to the Knight Bus in support of house elf rights-”
“She didn’t know that they were being paid to start making the beds on the bus,” Rose explained to Scorpius. “And that Hermione was approving it on a trial basis.”
“Which, I guess, makes me the middle ground. I didn’t use ambition to help me get over breaking up with my almost-fiancée like Victoire and I’m not criminally insane like Dominique. I’m just Louis. That should be enough.”
“‘Just Louis’ needs to eat and pay rent,” Scorpius reminded him.
“I pay rent.”
“Playing Exploding Snap for money does not guarantee you’ll always be able to pay rent, Louis.”
“How did you-”
“Are you serious? Giants are harder to track than you.”
Louis sighed and looked away, fingers twitching. It was obvious he wanted a smoke. Rose stepped forward and pulled her little cousin into a hug.
“Don’t let them stress you out. Take this time to figure out what you like and what you like that you can get paid for. You’re a bright kid, Louis. You’re just confused.”
Louis relaxed into the hug and Scorpius, feeling out of place, mumbled something about giving Al his gift and went back into the house.
The kitchen was significantly less empty than it had been before. Al was still sitting by his mountain of gifts, but only Molly Weasley, who was cleaning the empty plates, and Al’s parents, who were having a quiet discussion by the fridge, were still present. Everyone else must have wandered off or went home.
Al looked up as he entered and then smiled brightly. “Hey, you. I didn’t see a present from you in here.”
Aware that all three adults were probably hanging on his every word, Scorpius kept his eyes on Al as he said, “It’s sort of private. Come with me, would you?”
Al got up without hesitation and followed Scorpius out of the kitchen, down the narrow passageway and up the stairs. The first room he came to was devoid of Weasleys and so Scorpius led Al inside and closed the door.
When he turned, Al was observing the Weird Sisters and Holyhead Harpies posters. “This used to be my Mum’s room. Uncle Ron said James was nearly conceived in here.”
Scorpius ignored that disturbing train of thought and opened the window, Accioing Al’s present from where he’d hidden it in the bushes. The broomstick flew up the side of the house and into the room, stopping in front of Al with a flick of Scorpius’ wand.
Al’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he grabbed hold of the intricately carved oak handle. “You got me an Oblivion 360? These won’t even be out for another eight months!”
‘Only the best for you’ sounded too cheesy and ‘I’ve got connections’ sounded arrogant and vaguely ominous. Scorpius settled for, “You wanted it.”
“I did. Do. I can’t even believe you-this is wicked. Even James only has the 180! He’ll go bonkers!”
“Then it’s a present for me, too. Read the inscription.”
Al stopped staring at the broom long enough to give Scorpius a puzzled look, then ran his hand over the handle until he found the words carved near the bottom.
“‘One loyal friend is worth ten thousand relatives.’” he read, cracking a smile. “Scorp…”
Al set the broom down on his mother’s old bed and then turned, hugging Scorpius and resting his head on Scorpius’ shoulder. For once, Scorpius didn’t tense up. He immediately hugged Al back.
“‘m sorry,” Al whispered. “There are just so many people to say hi to. No one gave you a hard time today, did they?”
Al smelled like chocolate and sweat. It was oddly intoxicating. “No, I hung around with Rose and Louis, the only two sane ones in here.”
“Hey now,” said Al, lifting his head to glare playfully. “I’m plenty sane.”
“Says you.”
Al grinned, but didn’t remove his arms from Scorpius’ waist. Scorpius, head swimming pleasantly, felt overwhelmed. All he could see was Al and he smelled Al’s unique scent with every inhale and his body was warm in all the places Al was touching him. He wasn’t drunk-no more drunk than he’d been since leaving the attic-but he felt intoxicated. Al’s eyes had softened and darkened to a shade of green that reminded Scorpius of his bed sheets although a bed was the last thing he needed to be thinking of holding Al like he was.
“Thanks,” Al murmured, not breaking eye contact. Scorpius’ heart was pounding very loudly in his ears, his breath beginning to thin. Surely Al must have noticed something. “This is the best birthday present ever.”
Scorpius’ arms loosened around Al’s waist, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually let go. He knew he should because he knew that if he didn’t, he would say those words that would dissolve their friendship like sugar in water. Or, worse, try to steal a kiss.
“I just think it’s probably better if you don’t go too fast with him too soon. He might react… badly.”
“If you fancied James Potter, would you tell him?”
“Just some unrequited love.”
He kissed him.
Scorpius’ eyes went wide with shock, but the soft lips pressing firmly against his own were unmistakably Al’s. Too stunned to respond, he stood like an ice sculpture as Al, his eyes closed, tilted his head to the side and slowly, carefully brushed his lips over Scorpius’ again and again.
Scorpius couldn’t hear anything over his own heartbeat, couldn’t feel anything but a flare of hidden hope and overwhelming want from their point of intimate contact. Before he could regain his senses, Al had shoved him roughly.
Scorpius made a small noise of pain as his back hit the door, but Al swallowed it as he pressed himself against Scorpius’ chest and slid his tongue into Scorpius’ slightly open mouth. What had been a chaste and careful kiss turned dirty within an instant and it was the sharp spike of desire that snapped Scorpius’ out of his stupor.
He grabbed Al’s hips, tilted his head the other way, and took control of the kiss, sucking on Al’s tongue and sliding a hand under Al’s shirt until Al was a groaning, quivering mass in his arms. Al whispered his name like a prayer and, with a needy moan, Scorpius walked him back in what he hoped was the general direction of the bed, the heat rushing to his head and further down, making it hard to think of anything but more.
Al gasped in surprise as the back of his knees hit the bed and, sweeping the racing broom off the side, Scorpius pushed Al down and climbed on top of him. It was Al who reached up, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and fused their lips together again and Al who hissed in pleasure as Scorpius’ knee brushed the obvious bulge in his trousers.
It was Al, Scorpius thought recklessly as he made a valiant effort to locate Al’s tonsils with his tongue, It’s always been Al.
He didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs or Ginny Weasley calling for her son, but Al did. His eyes popped open just as Scorpius was about to leave a series of embarrassing marks on his neck and he turned his head to the side, panting.
“Stop it.”
Those two words were as effective as a cold shower. Tingling all over, and no longer from pleasure, Scorpius sat up and tried to breathe evenly. Al reached up to cover his mouth with a hand, drawing the rest of his limbs up until no part of him was touching any part of Scorpius, which left him curled into a fetal position by Scorpius’ knees.
“Merlin,” he breathed, words muffled. “That never-I’m not-I’m not-”
Ginny Weasley called again, reminding Scorpius that there was, in fact, a world outside this bedroom. Al scrambled off the bed and grabbed his broom.
“I think,” he swallowed without looking in Scorpius’ direction. “That you shouldn’t be here when I come back. If,” he added. “I come back.”
Scorpius felt as though someone had slapped him. “Al-”
“I’m not like that,” Al said sharply, angry and anguished and ashamed. “And I don’t like you like that. This never happened!”
“Al-”
“Just go!” said Al, and left.
Scorpius heard Al call back down to his Mom as his voice and footsteps faded down to the ground floor. He heard the familiar French argument going on in the orchard below, ending with a loud scream of, “Je pars!” and the crack of an Apparation.
The room, which had been so clear before, grew blurry the longer Scorpius knelt on Ginny Weasley’s bed in Ginny Weasley’s old room at the Burrow where he was even less welcome than he had been before. He heard footsteps on the stairs and quickly stood, blinking rapidly and wiping his eyes, then Apparated away without a word.
The flat was too bright when he got home, but that could have been the amount of Firewhisky he’d had to compensate for how empty he felt. Louis was in the kitchen, cooking to calm his temper which would be great if everything didn’t come out smoky because he tended to smoke while he did it. Scorpius no longer ate the supposedly edible products of Louis’ anger; he’d found a cigarette butt in his porridge once.
He swaggered into his room and tugged off his shirt and one shoe before he forgot why he was undressing to begin with. He caught sight of himself in the nearby wall mirror and laughed slightly hysterically. He looked as awful as he felt. His hair, normally white-blond and impeccably coifed, was grimy and messy from the butterbeer that he’d dumped over his head at the bar. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he just felt sticky. There were bags beneath his eyes, magnified by his glasses, and he was almost as white as his shirt.
And it had only been an hour.
“I’m making waffles if you-bloody hell, what happened?” Louis said, appearing in the doorway. He hurried in and pressed the back of his hand against Scorpius’ forehead, then wrinkled his noise as the potent smell of alcohol hit him. “How did you get so drunk between when you left the backyard and now? Did you and Al do shots?”
Scorpius felt something inside him break all over again. His legs stopped supporting him and he collapsed onto the bed, trying not to cry like the thirteen year old girl he so obviously was.
“Scorpius, what happened?” asked Louis, pushing him back onto the pillows and removing his other shoe, as well as both his socks and his belt. “You and Al get in a fight? Someone say something to you at the party? You’re scaring me, mate.”
He looked up at Louis with his dangly earring and his nicotine breath and his awful hair and almost felt like lashing out. The impulse died as quickly as it had come and he closed his eyes instead. “Al-Albus Severus Potter no longer… wishes to be my friend…”
“What? Who told you that? You know they’re lying, Scorpius. Al would never-”
“He told me himself. After,” Scorpius added with a bitter laugh. “After he snogged me.”
“What?”
“He did. He said… he said, ‘Scorpius, I am not a gigantic poufter like you so obviously are an’ I want you to get the bloody hell out of my house before I call my uncles to beat your pansy arse.’ In those words.”
Louis finished tugging off his pants and pulled the covers up over Scorpius’ suddenly shivering body. His expression was sympathetic. “I knew something like this would happen.”
“Didja know Al was going to start and finish it? Because I was in the dark about that.”
“Sleep off that Firewhisky. I’ll make you a hangover potion and leave it by your bedside for tomorrow morning. I also don’t think you should go to work tomorrow.”
Louis said more, but his voice was beginning to sound more and more distant, like an echo of a soft voice at the other end of a cave. The last thing Scorpius remembered was the brush of lips on his forehead-soft, like Al’s kiss had been at first-before he was caught in the grip of sleep.
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