Boys Club (2/3)
Instead of causing a scene, though, he'd used that excess energy to fuel his footsteps onwards into the castle, to get to his common room, and into his empty dorm. There, he'd shucked his jacket and hat and scarf, throwing his boots against the wall with violence, and then he'd sat on his bed, trembling, with his head in his hands, trying in vain to stop the hateful tears that sprang to life in his eyes.
Since then, he'd been in protective mode, closing himself off to the world. He'd spoken very little, eaten even less, and spent most of his time trying to decide what it was he wanted out of life, and what he expected from himself. He went to class, turned in his homework, but his heart wasn't in any of it. He felt… severely diminished, and wondered if this was how Mac felt.
Approaching Greenhouse Three, he opened the door and found Professor Longbottom spraying some purple concoction all over the baby Mandrakes. They cooed in pleasure as the special fertilizer sprinkled over them.
His instructor turned at the sound of the door opening and greeted him with a cheerful wave. "Ah, Albus, hello! 'Fraid there's nothing left to do here today. I'm just finishing up the last of the watering."
As part of his pledge requirements, Al had to volunteer at least three hours a week helping out one of the professors, as mandated by the Headmistress for all non-academic clubs that had a membership period. He usually preferred to work with Professor Longbottom, as he tended to learn more outside the classroom than in it when it came to apothecary ingredients that could be harvested from the plants around the castle. Since he found a peace in working with plants, he always sought out the Herbology teacher first for all extracurricular volunteer opportunities.
Disappointed that he would find no temporary distraction from his worries, Al sighed. "Nothing at all? Not even re-potting?" That was the worst chore in the greenhouse, as some of the soils used were mixed with manure of varying types, but he'd take it - especially today, when his mind needed the calming chore of working with his hands to quiet his restless mind.
His professor shook his head. "Sorry. No re-potting until May." He gave him an encouraging smile. "By then you'll no longer be a pledge though, so I suppose you won't be coming here anymore to help tend the plants." His gaze dropped to Al's tie, and the smile fell. "Where's your pin? Didn't lose it, did you?"
Shame at letting down his favourite teacher flushed through him. Professor Longbottom had gone go on and on with his praise when he'd found out Al had received his bid to pledge the Skulls this year.
He shook his head and held his hand out and opened it. The pin lay in the centre of his palm. "Didn't lose it. I just… I'm not sure anymore."
"You're not thinking of throwing in the towel, are you, mate?" Orin Longbottom asked, startling him. The Gryffindor son of the Herbology professor - in the same grade as Al - came into the room from where he'd been hovering around the door, a concerned expression on his face. His Skulls membership pin flashed from its seat near the top of his tie. "But you can't!"
Professor Longbottom frowned at his son. "Orin, don't push. I'm sure young Albus here can make up his own mind. He's perfectly capable." He slapped a good-natured hand on his arm. "If the Skulls isn't your thing, Al, then you make the right decision for you about what is - and don't let anyone tell you differently." He glanced over at his son with a censoring expression.
"But-" Orin made to argue, but was cut off by Mac's arrival.
"Just thought I'd check up on our pledge and see how he's doing," he cheerfully announced. He sauntered up to them, throwing a knowing grin at Al, and then turned his attention to the teacher. "Potter's fulfilling his requirements, right? He's not any trouble?"
"Oh, Al's been a brilliant help this year," Neville Longbottom stated. His hand on Albus' shoulder squeezed in thanks. "No problems whatsoever."
Mac rubbed his hands together. "Excellent. Do you need him this afternoon?"
The Professor shook his head.
"Good. Then I can borrow him for a bit," he stated, reaching out and grabbing Albus' arm, tugging him back the way he came.
Before Al could so much as lodge a protest at being manhandled in such a manner, they were out of the greenhouse and back inside the castle. Mac stopped hauling him about as they crossed over into the Charms corridor.
"So, why have you been avoiding me for the last few days, and what's this about you turning in your pin?" his roommate asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the opposite wall from Al.
Al took up a stance mimicking his friend and glowered at him. "That was a private conversation."
Mac rolled his eyes. "Look, we're friends, yeah?"
"Still doesn't give you the right to eavesdrop on me."
Mac looked both ways down the corridor and then grinned at Al with a naughty smirk. "Albus, I've been eavesdropping on you since we first came here and we were sorted into the same House."
"Sounding a tad stalkers there, Mac," he half-jokingly warned.
His friend flipped a nonchalant hand through the air. "Come on, Al. You're the son of the most famous wizard in history. When are you going to get it through your thick head that you're in a class that's different from the rest of us, and are going to be scrutinized more closely by everyone around you as a result?"
Al's tiny bit of growing humour faded, and he fervently shook his head. "My father's life does not dictate mine!" he growled.
The moment the words left his mouth, he knew them for the lie they were, and he hated himself for not having the courage that Jamie had promoted to do something about it and change his destiny. It was just so hard to imagine letting his dad down, though. He worshipped the man. The thought of his disappointment was almost agonizing.
If only he'd been more Gryffindor…
His brother was right: Albus would forever be measured up against his famous father so long as he continued to walk the path he'd set for himself.
Frustrated, he clenched his hands… and his pledge pin bit into his flesh. A sharp ache bloomed.
"Fuck!" he hissed and opened his hand to see if he'd broken skin. No blood. Well, at least one thing had gone right this week.
Mac crossed the space between them and took the pin from Al's hand. He held up the bronze key-shaped piece of jewellery. "This pin means more than you can possibly imagine, Al. You received it because someone didn't see your father's worth in you, but your worth as an individual. To them, you weren't just Harry Potter's son, but Albus Potter, a wizard in his own right. I can't tell you anymore, but… please don't give it up. I think you really could bring something unique to the Skulls."
Albus sighed, tired of the debate. The idea of giving it up had been foolish to begin with, anyway. If another generation of Death Eaters was being groomed, and he'd turned away from exposing that knowledge in advance, he'd forever blame himself for any wrong-doings committed by the group later.
"Okay."
His roommate stepped closer, pulling his tie up and replacing the pin where it belonged between the yellow and black stripes. Al leaned passively against the wall, tuning out Mac's magical aura. Tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling he pondered on why only Scorpius seemed to be able to batter down at his will now…
As if summoned, Malfoy turned the corner right at that exact moment. He stopped so suddenly at the sight before him that the bottoms of his shoes squeaked. For once, it appeared that Slytherin's Prince had been taken by complete surprise. The dumbfounded expression on his face might have been comical had the situation been different.
Al drew in a low, hissing breath, realizing how this setting must look.
Bloody hell.
Mac looked over at the interloper, paused for a moment to consider him, and then turned back to Al, unfazed. "There. Your pin's back in place. Now don't take it off again." With that, he dropped the tie and stepped back. "Just remember what I said, yeah?"
Albus nodded.
"Come on," Malcolm encouraged, tugging a bit on Al's sleeve, "let's go see if we can't talk that pussy, Corner, into betting on a game of wizard's chess. I want to see you thump him for another five Galleons."
"Sure."
The two of them continued on down the corridor. As they passed Scorpius, Al's heart took off like a little bird trapped in a cage, and his mouth went dry. Malfoy ignored him; he was too busy glaring at Al's roommate.
For his part, Macmillan seemed oblivious to the resentment directed his way. He patted his fellow Skulls brother on the shoulder in a friendly fashion, and murmured in greeting, "Aye-up, Malfoy!"
They kept going, and Albus did his best to keep one foot moving in front of the other, attempting to ignore the backlash of anger that rolled over his aura from Scorpius' direction.
X~~~~~X
"Sometimes, I really hate you."
Albus looked over at the throne, where Scorpius lounged. His expensive woolen suit was getting wrinkled as he slouched, cross-legged, in the oversized chair and stared broodily at Al.
"Goes both ways," he told Malfoy with a shrug. "There are times I want to kick you - hard. Other times…" He left the thought open.
"You want to fuck me into the floor," Scor finished for him with a knowing smirk. "Comes with being a Malfoy and a Potter, I think."
Al had never considered such a thing before. "Do you think our fathers felt this same way at our age?"
Slytherin's Prince lost his smirk. "Earlier, maybe, but by this time, they were too busy fighting a war."
When he sat up straight, with shoulders back and chin up, the lazy, dragon-like attitude was instantly replaced with that of the haughty patrician. A long, black cowl covered him from head to toe, and above his breast, his Skulls pin gleamed.
"Some things are inevitable, Albus. I'm the eldest Malfoy son, and some responsibilities, I can't escape - not even for you."
Al shook his head, desperate, and approached the throne, holding out his hand. "You can. We both can. Jamie was right: we both just have to have the courage."
Scorpius only stared at the outstretched gesture, uncertain. "I'm… afraid."
"Me, too."
He woke up in his bed, not sweating or shaky, but amped. Did the vision mean what he thought it did, or was it a product of wishful imagining?
He lay under the covers, staring up at the black curtain over his head until dawn, and turned over and over in his head every symbol from the dream and every word, looking for answers.
X~~~~~X
A few days later, Al was straightening-up the Divination Tower - a task set him to meet his pledge requirements by Professor Trelawney, whose advanced age and physical frailty was beginning to show in her waning magical ability. The simplest of cleaning tasks now seemed beyond the witch's skill, and Al feared it only a matter of time before the notice came from the Headmistress that there would be a new instructor calling this Tower his or her domain.
He was just tidying up a pile of pillows that the students lounged upon during lessons when he heard the trap door to the Tower shut. Thinking that odd, he wondered if the sound signalled that Peeves was up to his usual mischief. Stepping down the amphitheatre-styled rows to check, he stopped short at the bottom to find Malfoy standing on top of the closed door in the floor.
"W-why are you here?" he asked, feeling his heart skip around under his ribs. "Isn't Violet missing you… or something like that?"
Scorpius arched a brow at that. "Why should she? It's not like we're dating."
Al threw him a doubtful expression. "Really? With all the snogging you two do, you'd think you were permanently attached at the lips." His jealousy was starting to show, he knew, but for some reason, Al couldn't seem to get a muzzle on his mouth. Something had shifted in his consciousness over the last week, and now he was beginning to feel the need for that confrontation Jamie had encouraged. Maybe it was time for him and Scorpius to have it all out.
"Vi's good for a laugh and a little practice, but it's not me she's after," Malfoy nonchalantly stated, shoving one hand into a trouser pocket. "She's trying to make someone else jealous. That isn't working out too well for her, though, because he doesn't play those kinds of games."
Not dating? Well, that changed things… a bit. Still, Al was cautious. "You never answered why you're here. What do you want?"
Scorpius' sudden irritation lit him up like a Christmas tree; scarlet and shades of blue combined to create an aura that tinted his champagne-coloured hair a pale shade of lavender. "I want you to stop sniffing after Macmillan."
Al frowned, his gaze shifting to Malfoy's tie, narrowing in on the fancy cameo-styled pin attached there. "Look, I'm not trying to persuade Mac to put in a good word with me with the Skulls, if that's what you're on about."
Tsking in annoyance, Scor strode forward with a bold step. "That's not the kind of sniffing I'm talking about… Albus."
Oh, he didn't mean brown-nosing, but the other kind of sniffing.
Heat climbed up Al's face. He reacted not only at the way his given name rolled off of his crush's elegant tongue, but also for appearing so thick-witted. Normally, he was a sharper tack than that. "I'm not after Malcolm in that way."
The blond sniffed and his lips curled up into a bitter smirk. "Really? You're always touching each other. Looks to everyone like you've shagged. If you haven't, then you want to." He crossed his arms. "Deny it, I dare you."
"Why do you care who I want to shag?" Albus countered. "You made it clear you weren't interested in anything more when you walked away that night you cornered me."
Scorpius dropped his arms and sneered. "I wasn't the one who chickened out."
Yep, they were going to have it out.
Al felt his cheeks burn and his temper flare. He hadn't been this mad since… well, in a really long time. Maybe it was about time he cut loose. "You wanted to fuck in the middle of the hallway! My first time against a wall? I don't think so! What the bloody hell were you thinking, Malfoy?"
"Virgin, my arse! Bet you're secretly Macmillan's broom!"
"You jealous arsehole," Al hissed. "I'm not like that and you know it!"
Scorpius barked a laugh, but it lacked the acrid bite it normally would have had, Al noticed. "Jealous? Me? No, I don't think so."
That didn't sound very convincing, especially when Malfoy's voice broke there at the end.
Staring into the wintry depths of his opponent's eyes, Albus instinctively knew what Scorpius was getting worse at hiding: that there was something deeper between them on his side than what he'd let on. The guy wanted more than just sex from him - that much was obvious now.
That revelation cooled a bit of Al's temper, and put him back in a position of offense, rather than defense. "You're lying, Scorpius," he disputed, feeling much calmer now that he knew he had the upper hand. "I saw your face that day outside the greenhouse. You were upset that Malcolm was touching me then. Hell, you're always upset whenever he touches me. Like that day in Potions class a few weeks ago, and all those times in the dining hall, and in the corridors when he and I are walking to class. Don't think I haven't noticed." He shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered right up to Slytherin's Prince, antagonizing him by tossing out a grin that attempted to mimic Jamie's most arrogant expression. "Sooooo…. how long have you been in love with me? Start of this year? Sixth? Or does it go back further?"
Malfoy glared at him.
Weeks and months and years of repressing his feelings had finally come to a head in Al's mind. Maybe it had been seeing Scorpius' reaction to the accusation of jealousy, or that heartening talk with his brother, or hearing Malcolm's confession of his feelings for him, or respecting Hugo for having the bravery to take such a risky chance his first time. Perhaps it had even been the words of encouragement from Professor Longbottom to do as he wished, without fear. It was mostly likely a combination of all of it. Whatever the catalyst, Al felt a burst of bravery, fuelled by a clawing desperation to finally, finally stop hiding the person he really was. He was coming out… and he was going to do it strong, like Jamie had encouraged.
Stepping around his love interest, circling him like a shark, Albus gave the heat of his attraction for Scorpius its freedom. "Did you really think Mac and I were sleeping together?"
Scorpius dropped his arms and clenched his fists, but kept his eyes insistently forward, staring off into the distance.
"Did you imagine him and me kissing? Touching each other?"
The aura around his love interest began to simmer with real, heated anger.
Albus decided to push, wanting to see where this line of questioning would lead. Their antagonism had been a living, breathing thing for so many years, and now he was beginning to understand exactly why that was. He wanted Malfoy to admit it, though - to accept it.
"Did you wonder what I was like in his bed? Or was it your bed where you pictured me?" he murmured the question, stepping closer and lowering his tone so that his words were sugar-coated in sultriness. In another calculated move, he 'accidentally' brought his taut erection into contact with the back of his companion's hand by turning ever so slightly to the side.
Arousal bloomed across Scor's pale cheeks, dusking them. His jaw tightened, and the muscle underneath gave an involuntary twitch. "Potter, keep it up and I will fuck you," he growled in warning, turning his head and looking down so they were practically nose-to-nose, "and then I'll drop you flat on that pretty, little arse I just rode."
Undaunted by what he knew was an empty threat Al refused to back down this time. Their rendezvous a few weeks ago had been a random act of circumstance; their paths had unexpectedly crossed at the same moment and there had been no pre-planning involved. This time, though, Malfoy had come to him - had sought him out purposefully to warn him off of another man - and that told Al more than anything else Scorpius had said or done to date.
He slowly rubbed his erection up the back of the other man's hand, and leaned his mouth so close that their lips buzzed against each other. Staring him in the eye, he gave the object of his infatuation a naughty, knowing smile, channelling the seductive grace that he'd watched Malcolm turn on his cousin that one evening not so long ago. "I don't think it would be that easy for you. If I was only a simple conquest - a one-off waiting to happen - then why do you flare with jealousy every time I so much as mention Malcolm's name? Why did you come all the way up here to warn me off him? It's a long trip from the dungeon to get up here. What, we're you just passing by - thought you'd drop in? How did you know I'd be here if you weren't stalking me? Well? Scorpius?" On tiptoe, he breathed the man's name in his ear with sultry insistence.
Malfoy took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out slowly as he turned his head and closed the distance between their lips to kiss him with a gentle pull of skin and the touch of a warm, wet tongue. His knuckles rubbed over Al's arousal. "Sometimes, I really hate you," he murmured, as his lashes fanned downwards and he closed his eyes, deepening the kiss.
Al felt the lie upon the other man's aura. He knew in that moment and by the desperate need pulsing in the spirit that reached out to him, that his feelings were returned in spades by his long-time crush. He also knew that the feelings terrified Scorpius.
"Goes both ways," he whispered as he kissed him with his heart in his mouth, his stomach flipping with excitement. He reached out and held tight to Malfoy's hip as he continued to stroke his erection against the back of his hand.
Unlike the other week, their kissing this time was cautious in its passion, testing the boundaries - Al because he was still relatively inexperienced and afraid of fumbling, and Scor because he was scared of admitting to wanting more than just sex with a guy. This he instinctively knew; he could taste it on the other man's breath, and in the way he withheld just enough to keep things from flaring out of control between them. It was one thing to fuck, another to make love, and they both knew it.
"If we do this - have sex," his tentative lover warned, "it can only happen once. I can't… This can't…"
Al pulled his mouth away, brushed his lips over the curve of Scorpius' throat, even as his fingers crept lower, caressing over the man's waist, down over his hip. He traced a pattern on his inner thigh, making Malfoy's breath hitch. "Then I guess we can't go all the way quite yet," he sighed, reaching for Scorpius' zip and pulling it down with trembling fingers. "There are plenty of other things we can do, though, to make up for that." His hand slipped through the narrow opening and gripped the hard shaft that waited for him on the other side. He gave the thick erection a hard stroke, making Scorpius gasp and tilt his head back.
Taking the reaction of his lover as permission, he dropped to his knees and hurriedly undid Malfoy's belt. Heart racing, palms sweating, terrified of what he was about to attempt with absolutely no practice (just a really well-honed imagination) he unbuttoned the man's slacks, and then hooked his fingers into both trousers and pants, pulling them down with a hard yank, desperate to do whatever it took to try to bind Malfoy to him.
His mouth went dry at the sight that presented itself.
Al had seen his share of dick over the years; he'd showered with the other guys in the Hufflepuff communal men's bath every morning, and he knew what most of the men in his family looked like, too. Nudity wasn't something he was completely comfortable with, but he'd learned over the years the correct social cues to deal with it when presented: you didn't stare, you dropped your eyes away, but you noted in a quick glance before turning away the sizes of the other penises to compare where yours stood. Al was only a little over six inches, but he was a bit thicker than normal. He was uncut, unshaven, but he did groom so he was neat down there.
Scorpius' cock was… beautiful. Long and of a solid girth, it jutted out from a nest of golden-blond, tightly-curled hair. Fully erect at around seven and a half inches and straining, it angled right for Al's mouth, as if desperate to feel his lips upon it. The tight sac underneath was a good size, too, and filled to bursting, just waiting for release. The hood of his foreskin was pulled back and tight, presenting an engorged, dark pink tip that wept a pearly-white fluid that Al was desperate to taste.
Gripping the thick stalk in his hand, he gave it a firm stroke from tip to base as he knew he liked whenever he wanked, smearing the pre-come all along its length to slicken it up. Malfoy moaned, and rolled his shirt up a bit so he could get an unimpeded view.
Albus glanced up at him as he leaned forward and rubbed his lips across the wide crown, moistening them with Malfoy's seeping fluid. "We could do this instead," he murmured, letting his tongue dart out and give a quick lick. "You could teach me how to please you. Will you drop me after, though?"
Malfoy licked his lips, and his cheeks went rosy. "Depends on how good you are at it."
Swallowing back a bout of nerves, Al shot Scor a tremulous smile. "For you, I'll give it my all."
Opening his mouth, he leaned in and enveloped the wide crest of Scorpius' cock in one go, letting it stretch his lips, tasting the salty residue around it with a greedy lick. He gave a small suck and pulled off, getting used to the texture and taste. Scorpius groaned. His thighs shuddered.
"Again?" Albus asked, wanting the wizard towering above him to admit he wanted this. "Or shall I stop?"
A dark gleam entered Malfoy's hungry eyes. "Don't stop."
Dipping his mouth downward, Al took several inches into his mouth in a single go, letting his tongue lash the sensitive underside. He didn't know what he was doing, but he recalled what he'd seen of Malcolm pleasuring Hugo, and extrapolating from his own fantasies, he tried to quickly learn the art of oral pleasuring.
Apparently, he wasn't that bad at it, as within moments, Malfoy began losing control. "Oh, fuck…" the blond Slytherin gasped in unparalleled pleasure, rocking his hips forward, "That's it. Take me as deep as you can."
Al dropped lower, trying to relax his jaw, and to figure out what to do with his tongue so he wouldn't gag. His lips caressed around the head as he pulled back, and he suckled each inch of hot, male flesh that he could as he dropped back down. One hand glided along with him, while the other reached up to cup and roll the buttery soft sac that hung before him. The rhythm he set was intentionally slow, his touch and technique thorough and worshipping. Malfoy would never forget this moment, he was determined. No matter what came next, he would always know that the best blow of his life had come from Albus Potter.
The thick shaft overwhelmed his mouth as he stretched to accommodate the width. The muscles all up and down its substantial length flexed against the roof of his mouth. A rich, salty-earth taste coated his tongue as he coaxed pre-seminal fluid from the weeping tip with a tight swallow. Lightly, he tickled that tiny bit of skin between Scorpius' bollocks and his back entrance that Al always found to be a pleasure spot.
Fingers gripped his hair with a tight hold, pulling just a bit. "Gods… fucking amazing!"
Al chanced a glance upward.
Malfoy was fast losing control. His gaze was greedy, his expression desperate. Beads of moisture dotted his upper lip. His aura was blazing, like the sun. "Let go, Potter. Let me have your mouth." He exhaled sharply as Al dropped low on him again. "Let me fuck that mouth of yours so I can come!"
Shaking his head, Al denied him, drawing off. "No." He licked around the crown again in a leisurely fashion. "You're not going to-"
Lick. Suck.
"-think of me as just some-"
Nip. Lick.
"-hole to fill."
He swirled his lips around the glans, very gently pressing his teeth into the tender skin. Malfoy gasped. Their eyes met, even as Al's tongue darted out to lash tiny licks at the same spot to soothe it.
Feeling a resolve in his chest that he'd never experienced before, Al decided then and there to go for broke. "I don't know for certain if you've ever done this with a man before or if you ever will again," he said as he dipped lower to lick down the shaft, "but mark my words, Scorpius: I won't make this easy for you. I'm not going to be one of your forgettable conquests." He sucked at the base as his fingers stroked over the head. "This is going to mean more than just a fast blow from some random bloke. It's going to… no, I'm going to stick with you." Lapping with slick care over his lover's bollocks, his hand continued a gentle glide up and down the straining shaft. "No matter what happens after tonight, every time someone else does this to you, you're going to remember me instead, on my knees, loving your cock."
He peeked upwards again to see Malfoy's reaction to his arrogant boast.
To his surprise, his lover's brows were tightened in consternation, and his face was a mask of pain. "I know that." He closed his eyes and sounded so desolate when he cried out, "I fucking know that, Albus!" He shoved his hips hard, letting his wet flesh slide through the tight grip of Al's hand. "Just…" He clenched his jaw and threw his head back, his medium-length, platinum hair creating a shaggy halo around his head. "Please… please!"
Al felt the sorrow and the reckless need in his lover's aura. Instead of dampening his mood, though, it merely encouraged him to try harder - to give Scorpius a taste of something that he'd clearly wanted for a long time. Maybe it would even be enough to change his defeatist attitude where they were concerned.
His lips parted again, taking the velvety head between them in a shallow stroke. Malfoy thrust in and out, his need for release a relentless fire now. His strangled groans were torn from his throat as Al sucked him hard, letting his mouth enclose in a tight grip around him on every forward surge. He whimpered because going so deep hurt him a bit, but he endured and thankfully managed not to gag. Closing his eyes, he let his tongue stroke over the heated, thick flesh, and dug his nails into Scor's thighs. He hummed around the cock fucking his mouth, betting that the added vibration would increase the pleasure.
He guessed right. With a loud groan, Malfoy's hands tangled up in Al's thick hair, tightening as the rhythm of the man's driving hips increased. He could taste the flowing pre-come begin to change in consistency, thickening, becoming creamier, the taste even richer than before. His lover's scent filled his nose, and despite the bit of roughness in his thrusts, his hands caressed him with care.
And the feel of his aura… Gods, such sexual hunger! It raged through him, racing and heating his blood. Never had Al felt such passionate need from another person!
He wanted so much for this to matter beyond just the moment. He wanted to do this again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. He wanted the chance to someday be able to freely speak aloud those three, little words that had lingered on the tip of his tongue every time he so much as glanced in this man's direction. He was terrified that Scorpius wouldn't let them be more than this, though. The idea of this really being just a one-off deal between them, and that Scor could just walk away… it hurt.
Please, don't let me go, he thought, knowing it a pathetic plea. He was desperate for it to come true, nonetheless.
"Ah, bloody hell! I'm going to come!" Scor grated between clenched teeth. "Pull off if you don't-"
Albus sucked harder to shut him up, gripping the base to stroke in time to his quickening gliding lips. He wanted to sample the hot spurts of semen across his tongue and to swallow every drop of essence… and to know later tonight when he went to bed, that something of Malfoy was inside him.
He drew on him, his tongue a lash against the underside of Scorpius' cock. His grip tightened until the length was a throbbing, dark angry red colour, engorged with blood and straining. Let go, he thought, and used his own aura to entice Scorpius' into doing just that.
With a gasp and a deep moan, Malfoy released. "Potter… fuck… ALBUS!"
Hot streams of sticky, fertile fluid filled his mouth in hard pulses as Scorpius came. Al struggled to swallow it all and to keep his lover's penis from slipping immediately away when it was finally over. He continued to lap over the sensitive head, cleaning it, suckling with very gentle pressure, teasing a last spurt from the tip. Scorpius groaned, and tightened his slackening grip on Al's hair once more.
He chanced a glance upwards as he placed a final kiss on the tip and pulled off. His lover was shaking, panting, red-faced, and a bit sweaty. His eyes were closed, and his face scrunched up as if he were battling internal demons.
Considerately, Al pulled Scor's clothing back into place, re-zipping, re-buttoning, and re-belting him. It was only polite since he'd been the one to take them down to begin with.
As he made to stand, the grip on his hair let go. "Potter-" Scor began, but Albus didn't give him a chance to speak, moving in and kissing him again on tiptoe. Malfoy stood a good head taller than him, so he had to stretch to reach.
"No, don't ruin it," he whispered against his partner's lips. "Just… let it be." He ran his hands up his partner's sides, and then wrapped himself around him, holding him as a lover. "Take a few days to think about it. I won't push you for anything you're not ready for, and we can take it slow. This was fast - just a taste for you to know what waits if…" He glanced through his dark lashes up at Scorpius' silvery gaze, and licked his lips to wet them. "We can go as slow as both of us need to. There's no rush."
"But Macmillan-" Scor began to protest.
"-is only my friend," Al reasserted, cutting him off. "I care for him, of course, but like a brother."
Scorpius let out a shuddering breath, pressing their foreheads together. "You're a virgin," he hedged, making excuses.
Albus shrugged. "And I said already, you can teach me just how to please you."
"I'm the eldest son. I have responsibilities to my family."
"We've both felt ruled by our father's legacies for too long, Scor. Maybe we should let them go and live our own lives, yeah?" He pressed tiny kisses across his lover's cheek and stroked across his throat with light touches. "You have a younger brother. Ladon can carry on the Malfoy name."
"He's ten," Scorpius flatly reminded him.
"And in seven years, he'll be a wizard of marriageable age," Albus reminded him. "Don't sell him short."
"I've… been with a bloke before."
Al had already guessed that Scorpius had slept with a man at least once in his past so hearing the admission out loud didn't come as big as a surprise as he'd thought it would. "Mind if I ask who the lucky devil was, or is that a secret?"
His partner shrugged. "Euan. Once. Fifth year."
Somehow, that revelation didn't shock either. "That's why he's always sniping at you. Does he have deeper feelings for you then?"
Scor pulled back and looked down at Al's chin. His jaw clenched. "Yes."
"Do you… have those kinds of feelings… for him?"
His companion sighed. "No."
That explained the strain between the two friends. Euan wanted more, and Scorpius didn't. Just like him and Mac.
"You hurt each other over it."
Malfoy closed his eyes and frowned. A muscle ticked in his cheek. "Yes."
"Is that why you've taken so long to come out to me?" Al asked, feeling like he was pushing and prodding, but unable to quell his curiosity of the matter.
Slytherin's Prince curtly nodded once. "It sucks to lose someone you care for, especially over sex. I'd rather not go through that again." His eyes dipped to Al's tie and he leaned back to touch it with a single finger. "We shouldn't be doing any of this, seriously. You're a pledge, and I'm a Skull."
Fuck Helga's bones, he'd completely forgotten his task! He was a spy, and it was his duty to hand over Malfoy to Ministry justice, if necessary - to betray the man he loved.
Albus' father's words tumbled about in his brain, and he struggled not to hyperventilate on the spot.
"I'm proud of you for taking this assignment, son. I know it won't be easy. These are your classmates. Some of them may even be your friends."
"You're doing the right thing, Albus. All I need is proof. You can get that for me, right?"
"You may be preventing another war - saving lives."
He looked up at the man he loved. Was it possible that Scorpius could really be trying to revive the Death Eaters?
From his dreams, Al got the impression that Malfoy was stuck the same as him: behind his father's reputation. He also believed that his lover didn't want to be there any more than he did. And since his dreams tended to lean towards what Rose had deemed "the pre-cognitive cipher," he tended to trust them. They'd never led him wrong, provided he'd interpreted the symbols properly.
Come to think of it, his aura powers did the same, didn't they? Perhaps they could help him to determine the truth in this instance.
"Hold still," he required, bringing a hand up to rest against Scor's heart.
Malfoy gave him a suspicious look. "What are you doing?"
Al smiled and closed his eyes, stretching out his senses to try to 'feel' his lover's magical aura. "It's a secret. As a Slytherin, you should appreciate that. Now shush so I can concentrate."
Scorpius snorted. "You're really weird, you know that, Potter?"
His smile widened. "Shhhh."
Surprisingly, his companion played along. In fact, given that he had absolutely no idea what Al was up to him, he was showing a good amount of trust.
It was silent between them for a long minute as Albus tried to reach into the heart of his partner to read his intentions. He felt conflicted emotions: desire mingled with fear, joy awash with shame. It was difficult to decipher what it all meant, but for the moment, there was nothing hidden from him. Most importantly, there was no dark magic feel about him, only the white. Whatever Scorpius was up to, it didn't have anything to do with the kind of evil that would be associated with Death Eaters.
Albus felt hope writhe in his chest. Perhaps the Skulls had nothing to do with reviving Voldemort's twisted beliefs. Maybe it really was just a club that practiced Defence Against the Dark Arts, as he'd always assumed.
The aura changed, and affection bloomed. Al peeked through his lashes to see Scor watching him, an amused smile twitching up the corners of his sensual mouth.
"Does what you're doing have any connection to those coloured lights around you? Because right now, you're glowing."
Al's lids flared wide with his shock. "Y-y-you can see magical auras, too?"
Scorpius stared at him for a moment through a half-lidded gaze, as if deciding how best to answer. "It's a golden yellow kind of… nimbus, like the halo around a candle. It's actually a little disconcerting - like you've got some sort of heavy Hufflepuff spirit going on. It's not a disease is it? You're not catching, are you?"
Laughter bubbled forth from between Al's lips. "Dolt. It means I'm happy. You're… purplish, although it's sort of muted - like you don't want to admit whatever you're feeling and are trying to hold it back."
Those wintry depths widened. "Am I really?"
Pressing forward, Al placed a gentle kiss to Scor's soft lips. "Really. It's okay. I think I know what you're hiding, anyway. I'll just pretend I don't know, though, so your Slytherin sensibilities won't get bent."
Reaching up, Scor traced two fingers down Al's cheek, over his jaw, and across his lips. "What am I hiding, Albus? What do you see?"
Al leaned into the touch enjoying the soft stroking across his skin. "I see a heart divided that wants to be whole."
"And what's your answer for making that happen?" his lover whispered the query.
Al opened his mouth and said the one thing he knew Malfoy needed to hear - the one thing that he had finally decided for himself, right there and then, would be a really good way to live the rest of his life…
"By being who you really are, even if the world doesn't approve."
In that, Jamie had been right.
"Because… at the end of your life, you don't want to have regrets. You don't want to look back on the years and wish you'd had the courage to take the chances that mattered when they were offered to you. You don't want to die wondering 'what if?'." Al shyly looked down at the green, black and silver tie that decorated Scor's throat, and let his fingers trace over the diagonal lined pattern. "That's why… even though I'm really scared you're going to walk away, I'm going to take a chance tonight and tell you" - he glanced up and met Scorpius' silvery gaze - "that if you want me, I'm yours. I'll wait for you, if you need me to. I've waited seven years already. I can wait seven more at least."
Scorpius stared at him like a man offered his greatest wish come true. A brilliant flare of tenderness burst forth from him, only to be quickly rolled over by a wave of caution. "I need to think about this. I'm…"
"…afraid," Al finished for him, recalling his dream's similar words. "I know. Me, too." He shrugged. "I've finally made up my mind, though. I know who you are now, and what you're not." He leaned in and gave Scorpius a smoldering smirk, letting his hand drift down between them to cup Scor's crotch. "And I know how hot it would be with you. I know I love what we just did, and that I want more. So, for that, I'll wait."
Malfoy's guardedness returned. "You're assuming I'll change my mind."
It was Al's turn to give him a mysterious smile. He stepped back, clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on the balls of his feet, energized and nearly bursting with hope. "I'm willing to take this one on faith."
Scorpius took a moment to consider him, then turned to the trap door and opened it. As he stepped down, he stopped and looked up at Al, his emotions back in check, as smoothly unreadable as usual. "Macmillan was right about you: you would bring something unique to the Skulls with that aura thing you've got going." He gave another one of his charming smirks. "As for the rest, I'll think about it, Potter. I'll think long and hard on it."
The emphasis was intentional, Al knew. He felt his cock twitch in response, knowing what he was going to do the minute he got back to his dorm room tonight.
Malfoy scampered down the metal steps and was gone out of sight in seconds. Al waited until his footsteps below faded away, and then he jumped up and down and whooped with excitement. Finally, it was all coming together for him. Very soon, he'd get some answers, and then… then he could have a talk with his father.
X~~~~~X
It was seven nerve-wracking days later, after dinner, when the Skulls moved on Albus and not only were the answers to all the riddles finally revealed, but his anxiety over Malfoy's decision regarding them as a couple was laid to rest.
A black hood had been placed over his head, he'd been marched around the castle this way and that to confuse his sense of direction and he'd been magically Confunded to keep his wits scrambled, so he couldn't identify his "kidnappers". Amused at the precautions to confuse him, as his sense of direction was impeccable and his ability to read auras allowed him to know whom his captors were right away, he played along.
When they finally stopped walking around in circles through the halls, and up and down staircases, they arrived inside a room he hadn't ever remembered being in before, although he knew from the march that he was somewhere on the fourth floor, near the library. He stretched out his magical senses to "feel" the auras of those around him.
Mister Personality, Shale Finnegan, was hovering behind and to his left. Violet Zabini was situated behind and to his right. At his own back was Malcolm. Besides them, there were two others in the room: on his direct left, Gryffindor's 'Golden Boy' Justin Diggory, second cousin to the boy who'd been murdered during the Tri-Wizard Tournament more than twenty-five years before, and at his right shoulder, Brick Flint.
Al's heart rate increased as he realized what this meant: he was either being initiated into the Skulls tonight or stripped of his pledge pin and denied membership. The likelihood of either happening was about fifty-fifty, as he knew he'd not been the model novitiate.
Pressure on his shoulders was a silent command for him to sink down. He obeyed without protest, going to his knees, wondering what would be required of him as soon as the hood was removed.
A familiar aura rolled into the room with all the power of a humid summer storm closing in fast, overwhelming Albus' senses like a punch to the gut and sending his cock into a painful, tight erection almost immediately. He took a deep breath, trying to will oxygen into his lungs.
Scorpius had been ignoring him for the last week; he hadn't even looked his way once. Al had tried not to let it bother him, as he'd promised to give the man space and time to work through his issues and make a decision. Still, it had been an emotionally difficult time, as it seemed that every time he shut his eyes, all he could remember was the taste and feel of Malfoy's heavy length pumping between his lips. He'd wanked so much over the intervening days that he was seriously dick-sore. So it was probably not much of an exaggeration to believe that being in the same enclosed space with Slytherin's undisputed head boy now was almost torture to poor Albus' libido and heart.
"Are the initiates ready to serve?" Scor asked, his smooth, cultured voice as compelling as his aura.
Well, that answered the question as to what Albus was doing there. It seemed he was being indoctrinated after all.
Macmillan gave his shoulders a small squeeze, letting him know that he had permission to speak. He paused, considered it… standing on the edge of the precipice. If he went forward now and made the vow, there would be no turning back. But was he willing to join the Skulls for his father or for himself? What did he want?
"This pin means more than you can possibly imagine, Al. You received it because someone didn't see your father's worth in you, but your worth as an individual. To them, you weren't just Harry Potter's son, but Albus Potter, a wizard in his own right. I can't tell you anymore, but… please don't give it up. I think you really could bring something unique to the Skulls."
Mac had sponsored him, as he'd suspected all along - and the guy's aura read proud and 'clean' to Al's senses. There wasn't a niggle of dark magic on him, or the feel of lies and deceit that accompanied someone with ill intent. He should have never doubted the guy. He should have trusted his own instincts more. Whatever the Skulls were, they weren't into an anarchistic overthrow of the government. No way would Mac be involved in something like that.
And his best friend believed in him; he thought the Skulls was where Albus belonged… Yet, was this what he wanted for himself?
"Sis said she thinks you're under too much stress from the pledging, and that maybe you should reconsider."
Rose had always known him better than he'd known himself. Perhaps there was something to her concerns.
"If the Skulls isn't your thing, Al, then you make the right decision for you about what is - and don't let anyone tell you differently."
He had the support of a respected teacher and mentor to pursue the things he loved.
"You need to just put yourself out there and stop letting fear or other people's expectations dictate your actions… and your future."
Jamie had made the best argument of all, however. Albus had wanted in with the Skulls for years. He'd worked hard to pull his grades up so he could be recognized, and he trusted Mac and Scorpius not to be involved in anything dark magic-related. Being a member was his decision based on what he wanted, not on what his dad had required of him. Therefore, he decided that he wouldn't be tattling any secrets to his father… unless, of course, it did turn out that the Skulls were into dark magic. Then he'd have to deal with the fallout.
His money was on them being a legit organization though. He was willing to take the chance in trusting his own instincts in this case. "I'm ready to serve," he replied, putting conviction behind his words.
Flint and Diggory mimicked his response.
"Excellent," Scorpius commented with aplomb. "Then, Sponsors, please remove the hood from your charges."
With a yank and a rustle of fabric, the darkness gave way…
…to reveal a mostly empty room with tall, cathedral windows made of stained glass. Moonlight filtered down through them, casting rainbow shadows across the bare, stone floor. A large, white wooden throne was situated directly before them, its seat upholstered in russet-coloured velvet. Scorpius lounged back in its plush majesty, fully comfortable in his position of authority. Candles burned in a matching pair of standing candelabras to either side, providing the only other light in the room.
He clapped his hands twice, to a very precise beat. "Come forth all members of the Order of the Skull and Serpent."
A door off to the right opened, and in walked all of his classmates who had already passed the membership test. They filed in by twos, walking as if they were partnered up with the person at their side. Each of them wore a costume that resembled their school uniforms - but instead of the standard colours of their individual Houses striping their ties or lining their robes, they wore instead an earthy brown-dyed tie, and pitch-black robes. The House insignias that normally rested over the heart were gone, replaced with a design that merged the two types of club pins: a key with wings styled behind a silver skull, with a serpent lying in a coil around them both. In their right hands, each member gripped their wand, while in their left hand they all carried a small tea candle lantern that was magically lit.
The room filled, as the group circled around behind him and came up on his left side, to finally stop when the first members reached the throne and the last had come in through the door. As the final individual stepped through, the portal to the corridor was shut and locked, and a Silencing Charm was cast over it to ensure privacy.
It was with some strong measure of surprise that Albus recognized Professor Longbottom stepping up to Scorpius' side.
Now that was something he hadn't expected. He'd known his teacher's son, Orin, was in the Skulls, but the man himself was too?
Speaking of the devil, Orin Longbottom broke away from the group and sauntered up behind Albus, taking up a place next to Malcolm. He placed his hand on Al's right shoulder when Malcolm relinquished his hold on that side. The move made him feel as if the two blokes were sharing rights to him or something equally as strange.
A sudden seriousness swept through the proceedings. Scorpius sat up straight in his oversized chair, the entire membership stood at attention, and it was deathly quiet.
"Sponsors, you have carefully selected your recruit from amongst the top percentage of your classmates," Professor Longbottom addressed the four members who stood behind Albus, Diggory, and Flint. "They represent all of the best attributes upon which this fraternity was founded: loyalty, integrity, and strength of conviction. Their wand arms are strong, and their hearts fierce. Speak now the name of your charge, so that all in this assembly may hear it and remember."
Violet Zabini's voice rang out true. "I stand firm behind Bradley Allen Flint, also known as 'Brick'."
Shale Finnigan slapped his hands on both of Justin's shoulders and nodded with conviction. "This 'ere is Justin Noel Diggory, an' a finer man there no be. I stake me very bones on 'im." His Irish accent was strong, but clear as he beamed with pride.
Albus wanted to tilt his head back to see what his two sponsors were up to, but he kept his face front and his attention on Scorpius, looking for any sign of potential trouble. So far, the man had remained stoic, fixated on the proceedings.
"I offer my hand in life-long friendship to Albus Severus Potter," Malcolm called out with conviction.
"And I pledge my wand to him in the same spirit," Orin added.
"He is deserving," they stated together, their answer clearly rehearsed in advance of today's ceremony.
To his mortification, Al felt the unexpected sting of tears begin to prick his eyes at the poignancy of his Sponsors' words. Quickly, he lowered his gaze to the floor and blinked them away. The proclamation had been sincere from both men; he'd felt it in the marrow of his very bones. He'd also felt Malcolm's sad resignation to the fact that he and Al would never be more than what they were right then, and Al's heart ached for his best friend.
I'm sorry, he thought. If I could love you like that, I would.
Scorpius abruptly stood up, and this pulled Al's gaze back to him. A piercing, grey-eyed stare met his, then Justin's, and finally Brick's before moving back to Albus. "Pledges, your Sponsors have spoken of your worth and wish to add your names to our rolls. If this is not your desire as well, speak now so that you may be forever released of all obligations to the Skull and Serpent."
None of the three initiates opened their mouths.
As if expecting that response, Malfoy nodded. "Let it be noted that Justin Diggory, Bradley Flint, and Albus Potter have no dispute with their membership application."
Glancing over, Al noted that Professor Longbottom was giving him a bright smile. He attempted to return it, fighting off an uncontrollable, nervous twitch in his cheek. So far, the entire proceeding had seemed relatively benign - well, except for the black hood and kidnapping part. But then, he'd sort of expected something so ridiculous, given the hazing he'd undergone.
"Pledges: lift your right hands, palm outwards," Scorpius instructed.
The three initiates did as required.
Albus wondered if he was about to learn some sort of bizarre handshake, as he'd often heard secret societies tended to have as part of their ritual. Instead, to his astonishment, Orin and Malcolm came around and both pressed their wands into his hand. He noted the other novices similarly being armed by their Sponsors.
"Do you, pledges, so solemnly swear on your honour and your powers as wizards to serve the cause of righteousness and justice?" Malfoy asked them.
That one seemed relatively easy to answer. Albus nodded. "I do," he vowed. He heard his answer once more mimicked by the other initiates.
"Do you, pledges, so solemnly swear to faithfully serve the cause of fairness, promising to be impartial and according equal respect to all Beings - both magical and Muggle - to the best of your power?"
"I do," Albus replied. Again, a no-brainer for him.
Violet nudged Brick with her wand when he took a moment longer to answer. "Oh… I do. Absolutely," he stated in a rush, his cheeks blooming crimson. Al glanced over and noted that the guy's aura was a unique combination of lust, love, and embarrassment just then, and Al had the distinct impression from the way Flint's eyes dipped to Violet's bared legs, that those feelings were being directed at the witch.
Scorpius didn't seem to be bothered by the pause. As Master of Ceremonies, he kept the show going. "Do you, pledges, so solemnly swear to faithfully uphold the laws of the British Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards, and to defend these organizations' rights to govern Wizarding law in your capacity as Junior Auror Apprentices?"
Albus' jaw hit the floor.
What?
That was the big secret: the Skull and Serpent were Junior Aurors?
With owlish eyes, he blinked several times, fixating on the pins on Malcolm's and Orin's ties, and slowly, everything clicked into place.
A winged key… the symbol for seeking knowledge. Perhaps it was even a symbolic homage to his father, who had once chased such an object around in an effort to open a door that would lead him to the Philosopher's Stone. That tale had been ingrained into Al's mind since he'd been a child, and it made sense that the Junior Auror Apprenticeship program would refer to its Department head in some manner.
A skull… the universal sign of secret power, signifying the right to make life and death decisions. Aurors were tasked with such burdens in the line of duty, he knew.
A serpent coiled, vigilant and ready to strike when necessary… denoting the role of law enforcement authority.
Holy. Fucking. Shite. Why hadn't he figured it out sooner? Why hadn't his father?
Malcolm nudged his hand to remind him to respond. "I do," he murmured, cleared his throat, and tried again. The second time, he spoke with more conviction. His roommate grinned down at him, nodding in approval.
Vaguely, Al heard Scorpius continuing the swearing in. "Do you, pledges, so solemnly swear to obey the laws of the Skull and Serpent, including its most sacred vows of commitment to excellence, of fraternal loyalty, and of secrecy. Do you swear to protect your brother wizards and sister witches to the best of your ability, and to lay down your life for the cause of creating a world of equity, of hope, and of peace?"
Al fervently nodded as he stated an enthusiastic, "I do."
"It is time to reveal our secret mandate, given down to us by one whose wise guidance has never failed," Scorpius announced. As he stepped back, and the Sponsors moved behind their charges once more, a figure covered from head to toe in black velvet robes stepped before him. The individual was of medium height and feminine of gait. When she pushed the hood of her cloak back, Albus actually gasped aloud.
It was his Aunt Hermione.
Her warm, earthen gaze rested on him but a moment before moving to the other two recruits. "Know this, newest members: this secret order was founded during a dark time in our history. When I was a young girl, Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter, and I, along with others formed a coalition of students to fight back against those from within the Ministry as well as without who would bring about its downfall and allow the darkest wizard in our history to reign supreme."
"Dumbledore's Army," Al breathed in awe.
His aunt nodded. "Yes, Dumbledore's Army. Its purpose at its inception was to educate and prepare my generation for the fight that was to come. I fully believe that without that vital preparation, the student body here wouldn't have been in as solid a position to fight back against the Death Eaters and Snatchers who made war on this school. I have since worked with the former Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, rest her soul, as well as with the current one - Professor Sinistra - to assure that our children are prepared for the world outside the walls of Hogwarts. Hence, the mandate of Dumbledore's Army has been reinstated in recent years to recruit young wizards and witches who would be interested in pursuing a career in either the Aurors or Hit Wizards after graduation."
She turned to Scorpius. "With the help of President Malfoy, we've been able to do an admirable job of ramping up the program over the last several years."
Albus' crush gave a modest nod of his blond head in acceptance of the praise.
"Our selection process has been refined to determine those with the greatest potential to succeed," she nodded at Albus and the two recruits at his side. "The specialized and focused training you'll receive from your Sponsors, not only for the rest of the school year, but also during the summer, after you graduate, will clear the way for you to take the Auror test this winter, rather than waiting two additional years, as normal recruits would. That is, if you choose to continue into the Auror Apprenticeship Program. If not" - she shrugged - "the choice is yours, but we hope you will consider it for a career option."
She addressed the assemblage as a whole. "As we do every meeting, I call you to remember your place, members of the Order of the Skull and Serpent. The Aurors are our world's silent watchers - the ones who keep us safe from the darkness. The Skulls are their legacy - their secret second hand, should the Aurors fail in their duty. This is your charge, members all. While you wear the pin, should you be called up into action, you will answer the summons. This is part of the responsibility of membership. If this is not your wish, speak now so that you may be relieved of the burden."
She gave it a long minute, but no one stepped forward or spoke up. Everyone, it seemed was proud of their affiliation with the Skulls. Albus could feel their pride radiating from them like a warm wave. It lit up every person in the room with a golden halo.
"Let the record show that no pin was relinquished this night, and three new ones were added to our roles," his aunt intoned.
She stepped back, taking up a spot next to Professor Longbottom, and Scorpius took over.
At that point, the ceremony began to fuzz. Al was so excited to swap out his pledge pin for a member one, and to have Malfoy not only replace his House tie with a nut-brown one like the other members, but also to place his new pin on his new tie personally, that everything else seemed to fall away.
As Scor's elegant fingers adjusted the tie, and assured the pin was properly situated, the man lectured him on the responsibilities to the dress code. "And don't forget your pin again," he joked, reminding Al of the hazing incident that seemed a million years ago.
"No, sir," he replied.
Malfoy's gaze cut to his, and a lustful nimbus began cushioning around his form. He reached up to readjust the pin. "Good, because the next time, I'd have to officially reprimand you." As he pretending to fumble with the clasp of the pin, the backs of his fingers caressed Al's chest.
The sly touch quickened Al's heart rate, heated his blood, and made him realize that Scorpius was giving him a signal: he was still very interested, despite his apparent distance all week. A knot in his chest relaxed a bit at that.
Malfoy moved on, applying the member pin to Justin's tie next, but the whole time, Albus could see from the man's aura where his thoughts truly lay.
X~~~~~X
After the official ceremony came to a close, everyone crowded around the new members to congratulate them.
Orin pumped Al's hand up and down and slapped him on the shoulder. "Knew you wouldn't give up, mate. Welcome to the crazy train!"
"Thanks," Al said, "and thanks for sponsoring me. Man, I had no idea you were in on it."
"That was sort of the point," Orin told him and threw him a wink.
Malcolm stepped up next. "Congratulations, Albus." He made to shake Al's hand, but Albus hugged him instead, careful to keep it brotherly, but affectionate. Mac held on just a little longer than expected, but he did let go. "So, I guess I'll be primarily responsible for getting your training up to snuff. You have years to catch up on, in only a few months."
Al grimaced. "Don't tell me you expect me to wake up at four in the morning like you do for runs?"
Mac grinned. "Abso-fucking-lutely, mate. Welcome to the Skulls."
More people moved in, and it was a blur of handshakes, hugs, and well wishes. Al's Aunt Hermione hugged him, extremely enthusiastic that he'd "finally made it," in her words.
"So, why doesn't my dad know about this?" he put it to her. "He's head of the Auror Department. You'd think he'd know."
Hermione grinned at him. "Who do you think helped found this organization, Albus?"
Al's knees nearly gave out. "You mean to tell me that he… you… the two of you set me up?"
She had the good grace to actually be embarrassed; Al could feel it. "Well, you've always been rather shy about joining other groups, haven't you? And the thing is Harry was worried you'd flounder around after graduation with no idea as to what you wanted to do. I suggested the Skulls as a jumping off point." She fondly ruffled his hair. "You've got a set of special talents I'm told by your friend, Malcolm. Perhaps we can help you develop them. Win-win, right?"
"I'll kill him," he groused. "I agonized over this whole Juvenile Death Eaters-In-Training lie he had going for months!"
Professor Longbottom shouldered his way up through the crowd. "Yeah, Harry can come up with some creative zingers when he wants. Should've heard what he used on me to get me to be the academic sponsor of this little club of his."
"Actually, that one was mine," his aunt admitted with a wince.
His teacher rolled his eyes. "Should've known. Congrats, Al. Glad you decided to pick your own path and ended up here with us."
"Thanks, Professor," he offered.
The two moved off to speak with the other new members, knowing they'd catch up later, as their families were close friends.
Al turned…
… to find Scorpius standing behind him, patiently waiting.
"Congratulations," he offered, stepping closer.
"Thanks," Al murmured, feeling Malfoy's heat radiating between them, seeing the lustful glow about the man's whole body. The sexual tension vibrated between them.
Scorpius bent his head to Al's ear and whispered, "I've decided that Malfoys don't do regrets well. As for 'what if?' scenarios… What if you were to follow me out and down to my dorm room right now?"
"Will you drop me after?" he whispered back.
Malfoy chuckled, and the sound made Albus iron-hard in his pants. "Depends on how good you are at it."
Al was very careful, when he reached out and squeezed Scorpius' hand.
"For you, I'll give it my all."
TO BE CONCLUDED IN PART THREE