Fic: Only a Love Story (Harry/Scorpius) - Part 7

[ciraarana]

And no End

Harry's day at the office is a nightmare.

Partly that's due to the general situation at the Ministry. Rumours are flying around that a successor has been chosen for the retiring Wizengamot witch, and half the Ministry seems to be rushing around, trying to find out more, or make some last efforts to push their own candidate. Harry has been accosted and talked at four times before even lunch break, and the last pompous witch got her head snapped off for her trouble.

Harry didn't even stay long enough to apologise. Let them think him rude. Right now, he'd rather have everyone angry at him than trying to push him into a position he really doesn't want.

Yet the madness at the Ministry is a rather negligible part of what makes Harry's day a nightmare. The emptiness of the bed this morning was worse. As is the absence. And the silence. Harry had delayed leaving the house for as long as possible, in the hope that Scorpius would return.

It had made him late, which is never a good thing because every time he isn't in early, there seem to be dozens of people who need to speak to him right now waiting impatiently. It's made worse by the fact that Scorpius didn't return home.

He hasn't even sent an owl to let Harry know where he is. Or when he will return. Or if.

There's a feeling like a heavy stone in Harry's stomach. Sometimes, it's growing, squeezing his heart and his lungs until Harry has trouble breathing.

Halfway through the morning, he begins wondering whether something happened to Scorpius. Perhaps he is in St Mungo's, hurt, unconscious, or waiting for Harry. He has almost convinced himself to fire-call when he is interrupted by his secretary, who still hasn't learnt to knock.

This time, Harry doesn't give a flying fuck about who might be listening and gives her a thunderous dressing down. Including the threat that, if she can't learn to fucking knock, she'll have to find a job where knocking isn't needed at all.

Then he has to sit through another conference with the Senior Assistant to the Minister (Finance), who is unusually subdued and deferential. By the time the wizard leaves and Harry can fully devote all of his attention to Scorpius again, reason has had some time to work on him. Now it points out to him that, if Scorpius was in hospital, someone would have let Harry know.

But there is no owl, no firecall, no one has left a message with his cowering secretary. The continued silence is not reassuring at all.

Harry tries to bury himself in paperwork, but all he manages to do is shuffle files around and brood.

At half past four, there's a very timid knock on his door. Harry's head snaps up. His heart is suddenly racing.

'Enter!'

The door inches open and Miss Simpson pokes her head in. Harry sags into his chair.

'Yes?' Not another meeting, he begs silently. Not another wizard trying to draw Harry into his plans.

'An owl for you, Mr Potter.' Miss Simpson cautiously crosses the threshold and holds a sealed envelope out to Harry. He wearily watches her come closer, not liking the expression of suppressed curiosity and excitement in her eyes. 'It looks important.'

'Yes. Thank you.'

He takes the envelope and casts a cursory glance at it. It's sealed with the Wizengamot seal. Harry stills. That explains his secretary's curiosity. However, he has no intention of satisfying it. Nodding at the witch, he drops the envelope onto his desk and bends his head over his file.

Miss Simpson shuffles her feet. 'Will there be a reply, Mr Potter?'

Harry gives her a hard stare over the rim of his glasses. 'I'll take care of it. Thank you.'

Miss Simpson visibly fights with herself, but in the end only nods and leaves the office. The moment the door closes behind her, Harry grabs the envelope and tears it open, his eyes flying over the fine script.

… want to thank you for your interest in the Wizengamot and your commitment to the community …

… unusual way shows resourcefulness …

… unexpected suggestion …

… contacted Mr Neville Longbottom …

… came to the conclusion that he is a worthy candidate …

… offered …

… he accepted.

Harry doesn't read any further.

He's unable to suppress his shout of triumph or the delighted laughter that follows. He knows that his secretary can hear him - and will most likely draw the wrong conclusion. Let her, Harry thinks, and he sinks back into his chair, feeling relieved and happy.

'Thank you, Neville,' he says out loud and laughs again.

That's that, then. Now the politicising and intriguing and constant demands on Harry's time and attention will die down - at least for a time. Now he can finally concentrate on doing his job again.

No more Wizengamot members trying to recruit him. No more meetings with politicians who pretend wanting to consult with him. No more carefully crafted speeches that he's at a loss to understand. No more pushing and pulling, no more constant demands that he do this or do that or do something else entirely.

Well, probably not no more of the latter, but at least less. And that he can live with.

Harry closes his eyes. He feels light, as though a heavy burden has been lifted from his shoulders. Relaxing, he enjoys the sensation of tension bleeding out of his muscles and of his stomach untwisting. He hadn't realised that he had been this wound up about this matter.

Now for the other matter …

Harry jumps to his feet, reaching for his coat. Buoyed by the success, he's ready to tackle the other problem. He'll go home - early, but it's close enough to finishing time, anyway, and he's stayed late lots of times - and find Scorpius. And then he'll pin him down, tie him to the bed if necessary, and solve that problem, too.

Grinning, Harry haphazardly throws his coat on, waves his wand vaguely at his filing cabinets, and strides out of his office, not even waiting for the cabinets to lock.

'Good news, Mr Potter?' Miss Simpson asks as Harry strolls past her desk on his way to the lift.

He looks at her, sees her burning curiosity that would have set him off even five minutes ago, but now he doesn't care.

'Very good news,' he tells her, all but skipping out of the door and down the hall, laughing at himself under his breath. He's aware that he's garnering odd and inquisitive looks, but he doesn't care.

And if everybody thinks that Harry Potter is unbalanced, well, it won't be the first time and if it keeps everyone off his case, all the better.

He hums in the lift, thoroughly annoying the harassed looking witches that huddle in the opposite corner. He grins at them when the lift stops and he gets off, hearing them whisper behind his back.

He doesn't care.

Neither does he care about the stares and whispers as he makes his way through the Atrium to the Apparation point, or about the somewhat frantic voice behind him calling his name, or about one of the apparently omnipresent reporters snapping a picture.

He's going home, taking care of his lover.

It's drizzling in London when he steps outside, and not even that manages to damped his mood. Sprightly, he turns on his toes and Disapparates.

The drizzle is a soft rain at his place. Harry jumps over a puddle on his way to the front door. It flies open when he touches the knob and bangs against the wall.

'I'm home!' Harry yells.

There's a clatter from the living room and a sound like a muffled yelp. Harry's heart jumps and his grin broadens as he races towards it. Priddy pops out of the kitchen and has to flatten herself against the wall. 'Master Harry is being in a good mood,' he hears as he dashes past her. He bursts into the living and stops short.

Scorpius is balancing a swimming saucer, tea cup toppled over, in one hand, and the other pokes his wand at the tea stain on his robes. He looks wide-eyed and flustered. Opposite him, serenely stirring her tea and smiling, sits a blond witch Harry hadn't expected to see.

'Luna!' he exclaims. 'Where did you come from? Weren't you in Azerbaijan?'

'I came to visit you, and it was Turkmenistan, Harry,' Luna corrects calmly. 'We had to come back early. The Tubering Littmice ruined our provisions, and the expedition leader got possessed by Wrackspurts. And the weather was beastly.'

Harry laughs. 'Well, good to see you, Luna,' he says as he steps over to Scorpius. 'Here, let me,' he says softly and takes the dripping saucer from him. Scorpius shoots him a startled, nervous look, then busies himself with his robes.

'You look happy, Harry,' Luna observes. 'Did something nice happen to you?'

Harry grins at her. 'Yep, something very nice.' He banishes the spilled tea and dries the saucer before he sends it floating back to the tea tray, then perches on the armrest of Scorpius's chair and tangles his fingers in the hair on Scorpius's neck as he tells them, 'I've got some pretty good news.'

Scorpius jumps at the touch, and he sits very still. His hands are folded in his lap, but the knuckles are white, and there is a barely perceptible tremble in the body under Harry's fingertips.

'Oh, that sounds lovely.' Luna beams at him, but in total Luna-fashion doesn't ask, simply waits for him to tell her. Harry beams back and gently rakes his fingernails over Scorpius's skin.

'Neville's going to be on the Wizengamot,' he says, spilling his news.

Scorpius shivers, makes a funny little noise that catches Harry's attention. He glances down, trying to get a look at his lover's face, but Scorpius turns his head and his hair hides his expression.

'I didn't know that Neville wanted to be on the Wizengamot.'

Harry looks up at Luna. Her big eyes give her a permanently surprised air, but Harry thinks they are even bigger now. It's rare he surprises Luna.

'He didn't know it, either,' he answers with a grin, 'until I suggested him for the position.'

'But if he didn't know he wanted to be on the Wizengamot it makes no sense that you suggested him,' Luna points out. That's Luna-logic, and Harry laughs again.

'Well, they needed someone to take a seat because one of the older members is retiring,' he explains, caressing Scorpius's neck under his hair.

'And they didn't ask you?' Luna interjects. 'I would have thought they would have liked you.'

Harry grimaces. 'Of course they asked me. Well, some of them did. Others told me to not take the seat, or at least I think they did. They never came right out and told me. And then half the Ministry and half the wizarding world became involved, and everyone told me to take the seat or not or spouted some kind of babble at me that gave me a headache.' He takes a deep breath and forces his shoulders to relax again. 'It's been madness these last couple of weeks.'

Luna's blue eyes are misty when she peers at his face, but Harry isn't fooled. And he's right.

'It never stops, does it?' she muses. 'And it puts a lot of pressure on you.'

'Yeah.' Harry sighs. 'Everybody seems to think they have a right to tell me what to do. Still. Voldemort's been dead for thirty years, but something like this happens, someone retires or a position opens, and I'm still the Boy Who Lived.'

'You do look quite young for your age.'

Luna's apropos of nothing answer startles a laugh out of Harry, but it's cut off abruptly when Scorpius gets to his feet.

'Excuse me, I'll go tell Priddy to make another pot of tea,' he says tonelessly and hurries out of the living room.

Harry stares after him, baffled. The teapot on the tray is still gently steaming.

'I think he's unhappy.'

Harry looks at Luna's serene face. 'Yeah. I know. Just … I don't know why.'

'Have you asked him?' Luna says, tilting her head like a curious bird.

Harry sags. 'No. I haven't. I …' He groans and slides into the chair Scorpius has just vacated, props his elbows up on his knees and buries his face. 'I haven't asked him. That's the problem,' he mumbles through his fingers.

'Why not, Harry?' Luna's voice is gentle, without judgement.

He looks up. 'It's been the stress. I … I often stayed late at work, tried to get everything done, and when I came home I was just so tired and … He was playing the piano, a couple of days ago. When I came home. And I was just so exhausted, I couldn't go and ask, couldn't deal with his problems, too. And he's been strange for longer than that. Distant. I don't know why.'

'You need to talk to each other.' Luna smiles at him. She's the only person Harry knows who can say stuff like that without sounding patronising. It's why he doesn't bristle, only nods.

'I know, Luna. I know. Usually, when he's playing, and he's always playing when he's upset, I go and ask. Just the other night, I couldn't. It had been one hell of a day and just the thought of listening … I was so tired of always being the one to make things better, you know. I just wanted, for once, to be the one that was comforted.'

He drops his face in his hands, rubs his eyes. The earlier elation has vanished completely. Harry feels tired and stressed. But Luna's presence is relaxing, and he's always been able to tell her things he wouldn't ever tell anybody else.

'You have to allow him to do that you know.'

Harry peers at Luna between his fingers. 'Huh?'

Luna's smile broadens. 'You are the kind of man who thinks he has to do everything alone, Harry. And when someone comes to offer help or comfort, you push them away. If you want him to comfort you, you need to allow him to do so.'

Harry blinks at her. Frowns. 'Do you think …?'

She shrugs and sips her tea. 'Why don't you go and ask him?'

Harry chews on his lip, looking from Luna to the door. He scratches his head. He sighs and heaves himself up. 'I … I think I'll do that.'

Luna smiles and calls for Priddy to pour her another cup of tea. Harry can hear the house-elf's chirp from the living room as he stands in front of the closed kitchen door, hesitating. Wondering what he'll find in there. But isn't that what he came home for? To pin Scorpius down and solve the problem? Harry takes a deep breath, nods, and opens the door.

Scorpius stands with his back to the door, staring down at the teapot. He raises his head when he hears the door, and his eyes widen when he sees Harry. It's the first time Harry gets a good look at his face, and he is immediately worried. Scorpius is paler than usual and has deep circles under his eyes. He looks as if he hasn't slept at all.

'Scorpius,' he begins, stepping into the room.

Scorpius whirls around and stares at the tea. His fingers clench around the edge of the worktop. 'Tea will be ready soon.' His voice sounds strangled.

'Scorpius.' Harry steps up behind him, puts his hands on his lover's shoulders. They are tense and tighten even further at his touch. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong,' Scorpius says with a toss of his head. 'You can go back to Luna. Priddy will probably bring biscuits if you ask her, even though-'

'Scorpius,' Harry says again, interrupting the flood of words. Their airiness is so clearly forced it's painful to hear. He steps closer and wraps his arms around Scorpius. 'What's wrong?'

A violent shudder runs through Scorpius's body, and his breath hitches. He tosses his head again, but doesn't say anything. Harry can hear him swallow.

'You talk to her, but you don't talk to me,' Scorpius finally says, stiff in Harry's arms. 'You tell her …'

With a rough sound, Scorpius tears himself away and moves to the other end of the kitchen. Harry stares helplessly after him. He doesn't understand why talking to Luna would upset Scorpius so much. He's about to ask when Scorpius turns around and glares. He's shocked to see tears in the pale blue eyes.

'If you don't want me any more, just tell me!' Scorpius cries heatedly.

Harry swears he feels his jaw drop. 'Wha-? Where did get that idea? Why wouldn't I want you any more?'

Scorpius gives a hollow laugh and turns his head away, wrapping both arms around himself protectively. Harry longs to pull him into his arms and comfort him. Like he always does. But Scorpius starts speaking.

'You stay late. Even when you promised you'd be home on time. You never talk to me anymore. You always push me away.'

'What?' Harry interrupts. 'I don't!'

Scorpius glares at him. 'Yes, you do!' he says hotly, misery turning into fury. He approaches Harry and stabs his finger at him. 'I ask you when you'll be home, you say late. I ask you why, you say work. I ask you what, you just grunt.'

'But I've never talked about my work,' Harry protests, stung.

'Of course you did,' Scorpius snaps back. 'No, not a lot, and no details. But you used to complain about a case or something stupid your Aurors did or grouse about stupid department heads and incompetent secretaries and shitty canteen coffee and … and … everything! You never do that any more!'

'I thought you weren't interested,' Harry tries to justify himself. 'You … you didn't ask!'

Scorpius snorts impressively. 'Well, after you'd told me for the fifth time that you didn't want to talk about it, I considered that final.'

Harry blinks. 'I … did that?' He frowns, tries to remember. He can't.

Scorpius snorts again and walks past him to fiddle with the teapot. His shoulders are drawn, his fury gone. Harry feels terrible. This time, he does go to him and pulls the younger man into his arms, despite Scorpius's resistance.

'I'm sorry,' Harry whispers. 'God, Scorpius, I … I never meant to … I just didn't want to, well, think about it. At all. Just ignore it when I didn't have to deal with it directly, you know? I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you.' He hugs Scorpius tightly and presses a kiss to the tip of his ear as the next available spot he can reach.

Scorpius makes a sound like a hiccough and suddenly clings to him, fingers digging into Harry's robes.

'You didn't even come … when I played…' is whispered into his shoulder. Harry aches.

'I'm sorry. I … I didn't think … I was just so tired, Scorpius. I just didn't want to … I just couldn't deal with more trouble.' He kisses the ear again. 'I'm sorry I let you down.'

The blond head shakes against his shoulder. 'No, I …' Scorpius lifts his head and looks up at Harry. His eyes are dark and pained. 'I'm sorry, too. I always expect you to be there and put everything aside for me. Like you always do. I … I'm sorry I'm still such a child, sorry to be such a bother, I … Sorry.'

'Don't!' Harry says emphatically, gripping Scorpius even tighter. 'Don't say that! You're not a bother, Scorpius, you're not a child! And it's nothing bad to want to be comforted. And … I like comforting you. I like it when we sit on the sofa and I can hold you and snuggle with you and comfort you. I think …' He has to stop and swallow, then adds quietly, 'I love it that you let me do that for you. At least that.'

'What?' Scorpius's fingers dig into Harry's shoulders as he stares into Harry's eyes, searching.

'I … Well, I thought you …' Harry bites his lip and can't go on.

Scorpius's eyes become uncomfortably sharp. His fingers dig even deeper. 'What?'

'I …' Harry looks away, stares sightlessly at the teapot. 'You've been … distant. Lately. And … I thought …'

Scorpius gasps as he puts things together. 'That I didn't want you?' He sounds so stunned and disbelieving that Harry dares to look back. Scorpius gapes at him, mouth actually hanging open. 'You thought … Harry!'

He is so incredulous that Harry's words burst out uncontrollably. 'But don't you see, Scorpius, you are so much younger, and I'm a middle-aged man with no fashion sense and no interest in politics, no ambition except helping people, and you're so brilliant and bright and I don't even understand half of what you're doing with your Arithmancy thing and-'

'How could you think that?' Scorpius's voice is low and intense. His eyes bore into Harry's. 'How could you possibly … ? Don't you know what you mean to me? Don't you know …?' He shivers and clings to Harry, breathing rapid and shallow. 'Oh, Merlin, Harry.'

Harry rubs his arms soothingly. 'Scorpius, calm down, I …'

'No!' Scorpius shakes his head wildly, pale blond hair flying around him. 'I'm going to say this. I never … and I thought it would be ridiculous and … and mushy and … Listen!' He takes a deep breath and continues, more steadily but still intense.

'I'd been listening to stories about you for years, Harry. People at Hogwarts remember you and Hagrid especially was always willing to talk some more about you. And sometimes I'd talk to Rose. She adores you and was even more willing to tell me everything about you. And I used to look at pictures and, well, fantasise … But it was always just that, a fantasy, we never really met, and I was just a schoolboy. But that party at Haversham Hall … You looked at me as though you'd seen me for the first time. Not a schoolboy. Not just my father's son and heir. You looked at me and I felt … I felt like someone truly beautiful and desirable for the first time.

'You looked as though I mattered. As though I was important. No one had ever looked at me like that before. It made me feel strong. Powerful. You made me feel powerful. And that night … I was so nervous the whole time, and I wondered how far I could push you before you put your foot down and told me to go away and play. I was determined to get you any way I could and … and you let me! I truly was powerful then. Strong and beautiful and desirable, just for you!'

He stops to breathe again. Harry simply holds him, caressing his back and shoulders, stunned and awed.

'You didn't treat me like a child,' Scorpius continues, softer, 'you never did. Yes, as someone a lot younger than you, but you didn't patronise me when we were together. Except just now, you idiot. But before, you never gave me the impression that I was too young to know what I wanted.

'Then Father found out, and I came to you because … because I knew you wouldn't try to tell me to go back and apologise or rant at me about what a bastard he was. I knew that I … that I'd be safe with you. And I was. You comforted me. You listened to me, talked to me, you took me seriously! You let me be weak without scolding me. You took me in, me and Priddy and my piano, without protest. You gave me a home, a haven. No expectations, no traditions to uphold!'

He shivers. Harry brushes his hand through Scorpius's silky hair, and Scorpius smiles at him. It's a little misty, but then, Harry's feeling misty as well.

'Then you pushed me to sign up for the Arithmancy project,' he goes on, speaking calmly now. 'I was bored and wanted to do something, but I couldn't think of what or get off my arse to look for something. You pointed me that way and … made me sign up, and you didn't do it so that I could make a name for myself, but because you thought I'd like it. Because you wanted me to exercise my abilities, because you knew that would make me happy.'

He's stroking Harry's face now, tears sparkling in his eyes.

'You gave me strength, Harry. You gave me something to live for. No, not you.' He shakes his head when Harry opens his mouth. 'But you expected me to be the best I could be, just because I could be, and that gave me something to live for. To strive for. Have you forgotten,' he adds in a whisper, 'meaning of my life?'

Harry looks at him, looks into his eyes, and suddenly, something falls. Whether it is a burden off his shoulders or a veil that has been hanging between them, preventing them from seeing each other. Whatever it is, it falls.

And Harry sees Scorpius, truly sees him. Sees a beautiful and gifted young man, sees his deep love for Harry, sees Scorpius's insecurities and fears.

He sees himself mirrored in Scorpius.

The sudden revelation makes his heart clench and his throat close.

He is beautiful and gifted. Even if only in Scorpius's eyes. But that is Scorpius's truth, that is how he sees Harry.

He is loved. He knows that Scorpius can trust in Harry's love for him. Now he understands, truly understands. He can trust Scorpius's love in him, too.

He sees the same sudden understanding in Scorpius's eyes.

Harry's grip on Scorpius tightens. He can feel a trembling smile curling his lips upwards and sees it answered on his lover's face. Then they are kissing, Scorpius's arms twined around Harry and his body moulding itself perfectly to Harry's.

'I love you,' Harry whispers against his lover's lips and feels the smile and the wordless answer.

At long last, Scorpius pulls back and sighs. It's too heavy for the moment, making Harry frown. 'Scorpius? What is it?'

Scorpius raises his head. He looks a little dejected. 'It's … We managed to entirely misunderstand and misread each other, Harry.'

'Yeah,' Harry agrees with an embarrassed grimace. 'And act like complete idiots, too.'

'Don't you think …?'

'Don't I think what?'

Scorpius bites his lip. 'Don't you think it shouldn't have happened? We've known each other for three years, lived together for two and a half. Shouldn't we have known each other better?'

'Probably.' Harry shrugs. 'Or at least we ought to have known that not talking about it is no use.'

'No, I mean … After three years, don't you think we ought to know each other? Really well?' Scorpius frowns.

'Well, we know each other really well. And better, now,' Harry adds with a smile.

Scorpius's frown deepens. 'Know each other entirely,' he elaborates. 'Through and through.'

'What, why?' Harry has the distinct feeling he is missing something. Again.

Scorpius sighs. 'It's just, the books say it's a sign of a real and deep and lasting relationship when the partners know each other really well.'

Harry can't stop the smile at those words. Sign of the Ravenclaw, to try to live life according to books. It also shows how young Scorpius still is.

'I'd think that would be terribly boring,' he says gently. Scorpius's head jerks up and he splutters. 'Well, think about it. Can you imagine how boring that would be, living with someone you knew through and through? We have so much still to learn about each other. With each other. It's an adventure, Scorpius. An adventure for a lifetime.'

And then Scorpius's head is pressed into his shoulder again and Scorpius is sobbing and mumbling something, but Harry can hear the words nevertheless.

'I love you, Harry.'

Harry closes his eyes and leans his head against Scorpius's and simply is.

A small sound makes him look up aeons later. Luna is standing in the door, smiling at them. 'Talking,' she mouths to Harry, gives him a little wave and withdraws. The door closes silently behind her.

At long last, Scorpius heaves a sigh and raises his head, scrubbing at his eyes. 'We're a couple of sappy idiots,' he says, trying and failing to sound derisive.

'Yep.' Harry grins.

Scorpius scowls up at him. 'You didn't need to agree so quickly.'

Harry grins more broadly and kisses the tip of Scorpius's nose, feeling ridiculous and giddy and about sixteen years old. 'I'm a sappy idiot, and I love you, Scorpius Malfoy.'

Scorpius blushes and ducks his head, apparently finding Harry's Ministry tie worthy of intensive study. 'Me, too,' he mumbles.

A finger under his chin, Harry tilts Scorpius's head up and kisses him soundly. The other hand gropes Scorpius's arse, pulling the younger man's body closer against his. Harry sighs with surprised pleasure when he feels Scorpius's hardness against his hip bone.

'Luna,' Scorpius whispers breathlessly against Harry's lips.

'Left.'

'Oh.' And a little later: 'When?'

Harry shrugs, too busy trailing kisses over Scorpius's jaw and throat to find words. His hands are running up and down Scorpius's back and then slip under his clothes to touch warm skin. He is aware of a suddenly urgent need to touch and kiss and take, stamp his mark into Scorpius's skin, have Scorpius leave his mark on Harry, reaffirming their bond.

Scorpius moans softly and melts, head tilting back to give Harry's searching mouth room. His fingers are kneading Harry's shoulders, and his hips are starting to wriggle and writhe, rubbing his erection against Harry's slowly filling cock. Harry tightens his hold on Scorpius and unceremoniously Apparates them to the bedroom.

They stumble upon landing, but thankfully Harry has got them close enough to the bed, so when they fall, they land comparatively softly. Scorpius lands on top and he immediately takes advantage, pressing Harry into the mattress and kissing him and attacking his clothes. Harry pulls him close and kisses back. In a mess of tangling robes and limbs they undress each other, sliding and rolling over the bed, never relinquishing the kiss.

Then they are both naked, and a last roll brings Scorpius on top. He sits up, hands propped somewhere above Harry's head, and there is a devilish gleam in his eyes. Harry, distracted by a very naked, very aroused Scorpius above him, notices too late that the silky sliding sensation around his wrists can't be Scorpius fingers. Startled, he means to pull away - and realises that he can't.

'What …?' he begins, craning his head, and blinks at the wand in Scorpius's hand that directs Harry's tie, length securely wrapped around Harry's wrists, to knot around the carved opening in the headboard. He pulls but the tie holds. 'Scorpius, what …?'

Scorpius pokes his wand once more at the knot before he sits back with a satisfied grin and drops his wand carelessly onto the bed next to him. Sitting back onto Harry's thighs, he looks down, grin broadening into a smirk. 'What does it look like, Harry?'

Harry pulls again, but no, he can't get free. He has a little wiggle room but nothing more. He must look utterly gobsmacked because Scorpius begins to chuckle.

'Scorpius, you …'

'Tied you up.' Scorpius rubs one of Harry's nipples. It tingles at the base of his cock. 'Yep, I did.'

'But … but … why?' Harry splutters.

'Because I wanted to.'

Harry stares up, speechless, into the smiling face above him. Scorpius's eyes are bright with happiness and desire. In the curve of his mouth Harry can see hints of the siren-smile that had so thrown him off balance all those years ago, but it's a tempered siren now, less aggressively seductive and more genuinely wanting. It's beautiful.

And more than a little worrying.

'Um…'

Scorpius laughs and sits on Harry's thighs, his erection sliding along Harry's. 'Now, tell me what you want.'

Harry twists his wrist and grabs his tie, needing to hold onto something. He can feel a fiery blush rise from his chest. 'I … what … I …'

'Yes, you. Tell me.' Scorpius wiggles his butt and the tip his erection jabs Harry's balls. 'We need to practise our communication skills.'

Harry's torn between amusement and desire and utter embarrassment. 'I … I can't …'

'Yes, you can. Come on, Harry. Love. Tell me,' Scorpius tempts, trailing his fingertips down Harry's body.

Harry closes his eyes. He can tell his face is flaming. Scorpius tickles his ribs, and Harry chokes out, 'Touch me.'

'Hmmm? But I am touching you, Harry.'

Harry opens his eyes and tries to glare, conveying his meaning, but doesn't seem to manage very well. Scorpius only smiles at him and keeps feathering his fingertips over Harry's skin. Harry lets his head fall back, screws up his eyes and his courage and says, 'Touch my cock.'

Immediately, warm fingers wrap around him. 'See, that wasn't so hard, was it?'

Harry groans a laugh and bucks into Scorpius's touch. 'It's very hard, believe me.'

'Ah, bad puns.' Scorpius nods sagely. 'You're feeling frisky, Harry.'

'I'm feeling horny, you tease.' Harry wriggles his hips demandingly. Scorpius's touch feels very nice, but Harry wants more.

'Me? A tease?' Scorpius flutters his lashes and gives Harry an innocent smile.

'Touch me!' Harry attempts another glare. Scorpius only laughs.

'I am touching you,' he repeats with a meaningful look at his fingers around Harry's cock.

'Touch me more, then,' Harry tries.

'More?'

The question is so full of faked lack of understanding Harry growls and tugs on his restraints. 'You're really going to make me say it, aren't you?'

'Yep.' Scorpius looks absolutely delighted with the situation. 'In excruciating detail.'

'Oh, God, Scorpius,' Harry moans, mortified. He can't say … stuff aloud.

'Come on, Harry, be brave,' Scorpius cajoles. 'Let me know how to please you.'

Harry groans and gives in. Has he ever been able to say no to this … to his siren? 'Stroke. Me,' he grits through his teeth. His eyes fly open, and he adds quickly, 'My cock.'

Scorpius laughs, pats Harry's shoulder, and strokes his cock. Slowly. Lightly.

'Harder,' Harry forces himself to say, eyes closing again. 'Grip … harder.'

Scorpius laughs quietly, but complies, tightening his hold on Harry's dick. But he doesn't stroke faster, neither does he anything else.

'Lube,' Harry groans when the constant rubbing begins to chafe a little. There is silence, and then warm oil drips down onto his cock. Scorpius smears it without prompting, but then resumes the slow strokes. Harry bites his lip, then says, 'Faster. And … with … with that twist at the end?'

'My pleasure,' Scorpius purrs and Harry moans aloud, back arching off the bed. God, it feels so good and he needs. Needs friction. Touch. Needs to touch himself.

'I want to touch you,' he whispers to Scorpius.

Scorpius smiles. 'Yes?'

'Untie me.' Harry tugs on his bonds. 'I want … oh, yes, want to touch you.'

Scorpius shakes his head. 'No,' he says and nothing more. His eyes are fixed on Harry's face.

Harry twists, pulling on the tie, hips jerking upwards. But neither does the knot miraculously loosen, nor is he able to thrust upwards into the touch because Scorpius sitting on him holds him down.

'Please!' The word is ripped from his throat, and while part of Harry is ashamed of begging, it feels good to say it. Let loose. 'Please, Scorpius, I want … I want …'

'Tell me what you want,' Scorpius prompts in a whisper-soft voice.

'Touch you.' Harry moans and writhes ineffectively. 'I want to touch you. Feel your skin. So soft and warm and …'

Scorpius's breath hitches, and he squeezes Harry's cock without being told, just the right way. Harry's eyes snap open, and he stares into Scorpius's eyes. They are intense, glowing, fixed on his. Harry is lost in their warmth and sheer fucking intensity, and the words begin to flow.

'I want to kiss you. Kiss you all over. Your mouth and neck and your … your ass. Your cock. All over. Want to l-lick you.' Harry licks his lips and gazes hungrily at Scorpius's leaking cock. 'Lick your cock. Want to suck you. Suck you into my mouth and taste you. Want to make you come and swallow and taste and, God, Scorpius, I need you!'

Scorpius is breathless and panting by now, face flushed. But his hand on Harry's erection is moving steadily.

'Tell me what to do,' he asks. Wriggles and lifts slightly, and the tip of his cock brushes damply against Harry's, making them both sigh. 'Want me to suck you? Ride you?'

Harry swallows hard. 'Prepare yourself,' he gasps. Clinging to the tie, all restraints gone, Harry orders, 'Slick one finger and push it in your ass.'

Scorpius whines and shivers and, after a moment, he does exactly what Harry told him to do. Harry watches with bated breath as Scorpius rises to his knees and bends slightly forwards, moving one hand behind his back. Harry's gaze flies up to Scorpius's face to watch the moment the finger pushes in. Scorpius's lashes flutter and he moans.

'Yes. Good,' Harry tells him. 'How far?'

'All the way,' Scorpius chokes. Harry moans at the image.

'Okay. Move it. Slowly.'

Scorpius bites his lip.

'Feels good?' Harry whispers.

'Yeah.'

'Add another one.'

Scorpius nods. He twists a little and hisses as he enters himself with two fingers.

'Good,' Harry says again, watching intently. 'Move them, slowly. In and out. Can you touch your prostate?'

Scorpius's eyes roll back, a little whimper gurgling in his throat. Apparently, he can. Harry almost smiles.

'Good, that's it. Touch it. Stroke it. God, I love watching your face.'

'Me, too,' Scorpius murmurs, watching Harry from below his lashes. Harry wants to reach out, grab Scorpius's hips, but the tie stops him. He hisses angrily, then tells his lover, 'Touch yourself. Your cock. Stroke it. Stroke yourself, inside and outside. Show me.'

Scorpius's visible hand is shaking as he lets go of Harry's cock to grab his own. He squeezes it, cries out. He shoots up to his knees, back arching as he follows Harry's order, pulling on his cock and rubbing his prostate. Harry watches, his now freed hips pushing upwards futilely. He wishes he could reach out and squeeze his own cock.

An almost violent shiver runs through Scorpius's body and he tenses. His hands speed up, and Harry can feel him quiver, getting closer.

'Stop!' he barks out, and Scorpius startles, cries out, eyes flying open, but he obeys. His hands drop to the sheets and clench. 'Harry,' he pleads.

'On me,' Harry says, hips bucking and straining. 'Take my cock and put it inside you.'

Scorpius is sinking down on him almost before he has finished speaking. Harry hisses as his rock hard dick is slowly engulfed by velvetyhottight. Then Scorpius's butt touches Harry's thighs, and he's in all the way.

'God, Scorpius,' he groans.

Scorpius shivers again, clenches. 'Tell me … what to do,' he repeats. His eyes are glassy. Fine strands of blond hair stick to his forehead and cheeks.

'Ride me. Hard.' Harry pulls on the tie. The headboard creaks. 'Fast.'

And Scorpius obeys.

The bed creaks and the headboard groans. Scorpius's thighs are soon shaking, but he doesn't falter, doesn't slow down, keeps rising up and thrusting back down, arse slapping Harry's thighs. Harry meets every thrust with one of his own, bucking up hard. The bonds around his wrists dig into his skin but they are something he can hold on to, cling to, balance himself with in this wild, passionate ride.

Scorpius's cock is bobbing madly up and down, smearing both their stomachs with sticky pre-come. It draws Harry's eyes, and he wants to grasp it, tug on it and pull Scorpius's orgasm out. He grips his restraint even harder, twisting and pulling and wanting.

His writhing changes the angle of penetration, and with a sudden, surprised cry, Scorpius stills above him and comes, spraying Harry's stomach and chest. The sight and the scent and the clenching of muscles around his cock tip Harry over as well. Distantly, he hears his grunt and feels his arms strain against the restraint as his back arches up.

Then he falls back down, and Scorpius slumps onto him, warm and sticky. Harry feels like smiling with deep, sated contentment but his mind floats away.

Some time later, he becomes dimly aware of Scorpius rising up and of his wrists being released and a Cleaning Charm cast on him. A warm, welcome body snuggles against him and a blanket is pulled over them.

His arms are heavy and prickle faintly with the rush of blood as he wraps them around Scorpius. He hears Scorpius's hum and feels a smile against his shoulder.

He knows that all isn't well and that they really need to talk more. About what happened and about why it happened. And they will talk, Harry is sure. They've both learnt not to assume and that the other isn't a mind-reader. They will need to tell each other what they want.

But right now, Harry buries his face in Scorpius's hair and falls asleep, and his last conscious thought is wonder about what he has done to deserve more than one Happy Ending.