Seduction of a Potter Oneshot. DMHP
Title: Seduction of a Potter
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, as the term 'fanfiction' suggests, I am borrowing them.
Pairings: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter/Scorpius Malfoy
Warnings: M/M, teenage angst, light mentions of M/M sex.
Rating: Via AO3 ratings: M.
Summary: Scorpius was fifteen when he decided to seduce Mr Potter. But it wasn't until he was eighteen that he thought it was starting to work.
Author's Notes: I wrote this one night a couple of years ago when I couldn't sleep. As for right now, I think it's time I started uploading on here. This seemed like a nice one to ease in with.
P.s. Most stuff posted on here is unbeta'd so sorry for any typos.
Scorpius Malfoy was fifteen when he decided he wanted to seduce Harry Potter. But it wasn't until he was eighteen, and a fresh-faced graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardary, that he thought his advances were beginning to actually work.
Now that he was older, he looked much more like his father, the softness of his mother's face wearing off as his body whittled off his baby fat. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. On the one hand, his father was a very attractive man. Scorpius had always admired the strong line of his jaw, his eyes were always showing the exact degree of emotion he desired and how his hair was always perfect. In fact, Scorpius had started growing his own hair out just so it would fall just so, like how his father's did first thing in the morning, curtained over his face and trailing from the bed, almost invisible on the pure white sheets of his bed.
But on the other hand, Mr Potter hated his father, loathed him completely. Maybe if he looked too much like him Mr Potter would hate him too. But then, whenever Albus brought him home for a visit in the holidays, which he took full advantage of to further his plans thank you very much, Mr Potter never showed any prejudice towards him, never mentioned his father at all really except in polite passing.
The blushing had started the Christmas before he'd finished Hogwarts, but he'd barely dared to hope. It could just have been that he'd grown up more, that he thought him attractive like so many of the girls at school who flushed as he walked passed, but such thoughts were not nearly tempting enough to get a Potter into bed. Potter men valued much more than looks, Scorpius knew from late night conversations about giggling girls with Albus. Potter men valued strength of the inner self and inner beauty and all that utter tosh. So, Scorpuis told himself confidently, what he really needed to do was treat Mr Potter as an equal and make him see Scorpius as such too. Then he could seduce him correctly. His looks were a given but his heart was probably still in question, hence Mr Potter wasn't head over heels for him yet.
That summer after Hogwarts he spent as much time as he possibly could in Mr Potter's company. His father insisted on being annoying though. He seemed to think the now ex-Mrs Potter was a suitable candidate for his second wife. True, Albus' mother was friendly enough but had no interest in the aristocratic Draco Malfoy. In fact, half the time she wasn't even home and his father would suit himself with sitting in a corner, glaring at Potter and waiting for her to return home probably glad that their divorce had been amicable so he could see her as often as was possible while her children were home and he had an excuse.
Scorpius pitied his father in a way; he was a gentle soul really. He had never spoken of his childhood in particular, straight out refused sometimes, but Scorpius knew he had grown up, just like Mr Potter, amidst a war and it couldn't have been easy particularly with his grandfather's reputation poisoning everyone around him. Some old Prophet editions he had found in the school library even mentioned him by name but Draco had looked awfully upset when he asked him about it personally so he had hurriedly dropped the subject.
Scorpius thought he was having a real breakthrough, though, when Mr Potter started shying away from his touches. Just the casual everyday touches anyone would have when in close proximity to each other; handing over a teacup and the like. Scorpius tried not to let the contact linger for too long lest be became too obvious. Mr Potter was a shy, vulnerable man after all and it might put him off completely but it was difficult with his skin being so soft and rosy.
His father seemed to have noticed around that time too as an awkward conversation swiftly followed wherein the question of why 'are you hassling Mr Potter, Scorpius?' arose. Which was stupid really because he was seducing Mr Potter and it was going quite well if only his father would keep his nose in his own business where it belonged.
He didn't get to touch Mr Potter very much after that and he made a conscious effort not to do it when his father was in the room. If Draco was smart enough to have figured out what was really going on, maybe he was worried it would be strange that his son was going out with his new wife's ex-husband but Scorpius didn't see how it wasn't an unfathomable hurdle. Besides, if he had been very worried about it he would have approached the subject more directly rather than hinting so Scorpius was reassured he wasn't doing anything that would damage his relationship with his father in the long run.
It was at New Year, and with the help of a few too many chugs out of a bottle of fire whiskey, that Scorpius summoned the courage to confront Mr Potter. Although in his mind it was more of a a few mumbled words interrupted by Mr Potter himself with heated kisses and gentle caresses. Scorpius knew Mr Potter to be gentle in everything he did and he didn't think his love-making would be any different. He felt his brow breaking out with light drops of sweat at the very thought.
His black hair would be splayed out on the pillow as Scorpius tilted him onto his back, peppering his lips along his naked chest. Scorpius knew he would be perfect, a quidditch players body with a maturity that had formed hard lines and banished any traces of excess. His skin would be pale in the moonlight streaming through the window. The count down for New Year would begin and with each number he would wander closer and closer back up to the man's lips until his tongue was back in his mouth and his fingers were sliding down further towards his...
Albus interrupted his musing. Scorpius huffed at him and scowled. No, he didn't know where Mr Potter was but, yes, he would help Albus find him for the count down. A missing Mr Potter at the time of the New Year's kiss was just not acceptable.
He was sure he wouldn't have noticed it it hadn't been for the hushed but ragged breathing coming from the master breathing. He shuddered, remembering that he hadn't seen Rose's parents for a few hours now. A sigh sounded and he shuddered knowing exactly who it was. His fire whiskey fuelled brain instantly imagined Ron Weasley's face a picture of ecstasy and his stomach rolled.
But then a grunt came and that most definitely was not the same person but most definitely was another man.
As slowly as he could he edged the handle down so as not to squeak the door as it swung open slightly. And, dear Circe, they definitely were both male. And panting. And...and...and...fucking.
Scorpius' breath caught in his throat neither because he was intruding on something so intimate nor because it was the first time he had walked in on two people tangled in bed sheets.
Ashen hair almost as pale as the alabaster skin of the man swung rhythmically down the side of the bed, glinting in the cold, revealing lunar light. Scorpius swallowed, not daring to look at the man's face. Instead he focused on the firm buttocks that clenched and unclenched as hips plunged forward between lean, ivory thighs spread like a common whore's. From the moans he could have been too, Scorpius sneered spitefully to himself.
Hands slapped down on those cheeks, grasping and pulling desperately, forcing a suffocating closeness. Mr Potter's lips latched onto an already marred throat, sucking at the raw skin, biting it and drawing blood.
The thrusts grew harsher. Faster. More brutal.
"Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry." Came the breathless crying as quick as the pound. "Coming."
He received an animalistic grunt and a graze of teeth in response. Then the bedroom door was closing in front of him and Scorpius' back hit the wall before he knew what he was doing.
Scorpius slid down to the floor, blocking out the whispers and sound of wet, slow kisses coming from the room behind him.
He had just watched his father being buggered by Mr Potter.
And there was nothing gentle or vulnerable about it.