Boys Club (Albus Severus/Scorpius, NC-17) (1/3)

[nextgen_mod]

Title: Boys Club
Author: rzzmg
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 23,788 words
Pairing: Albus Severus Potter x Scorpius Malfoy
Warnings: Explicit first time homosexual snogging, finger sucking, frottage, and giving oral sex (participants both age 18); Voyeurism of a homosexual first time sex act (participants ages 17 & 18); Masturbation (participant age 18); Unrequited Love; Explicit profanity; a bit of Ron-bashing
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Shy, insecure Albus Severus Potter has been tasked by his father to infiltrate the infamous and super-secret club, “Skull and Serpent,” led by Scorpius Malfoy and his friends. Harry Potter believes this organization may be a breeding ground for a new order of Death Eaters, and needs Al to spy for him. Wanting to impress his father and not disappoint him, Al takes on the assignment… despite the fact it may bring down Scorpius - Al’s secret, long-time love interest.
Author's notes: In this fic, Albus is 18, Scorpius is 18, Malcolm is 18, and Hugo has just turned 17. Thanks to the wonderful individual who provided this picture prompt to work from - so much fun! Thanks to my Beta, U, for coming through for me in the eleventh hour. I OWE YOU AGAIN! Thank you to the Mods for putting this fest on! I have had such a wonderful experience writing this ship for the first time!



January, 2024

Albus nibbled on the edge of his grey-feathered quill, his gaze faraway and his mind locked within, contemplating how best to explain to his father that he'd been compromised in his mission by his own feelings.

The Clock Tower's bells rang out through the castle, signaling the eight o'clock hour. Curfew would be called in another hour, and he'd have to abandon this spot in the library before then to make it back to his common room in time. He didn't want his House to be docked points again for something foolish done on his part. The hazing incident he'd suffered earlier this month had lost Hufflepuff a hundred points in total, dropping them down to third place for the House Cup this year, and his Housemates had been very disappointed in him as a result.

Rubbing a hand through his messy, black hair, he threw down his quill in disgust and slumped back into the wooden chair with a deep sigh.

Bloody bumbling hell, how could he possibly write this letter? How exactly did he go about telling the legendary Harry Potter that his youngest son's sexual preference was not what polite society might consider the 'norm'? Or, even that he thought the man was around the bend with his theory regarding the most elite club on campus, Skull and Serpent, being a breeding ground for junior Death Eaters in training? Worse, how could Albus confess that his love for his dad's number one suspect of 'all things stirring up evil at Hogwarts' was the reason he had to excuse himself from the assignment his father had entrusted to him at the start of the school year to spy on said organization?

He couldn't. If he did any of those things, he'd gain his father's disappointment, and possibly even his anger. Worse, he'd lose the man's respect.

But, if he did as asked, and found out that his father's suppositions were true, he'd be helping to bring down the Skulls - a group he'd secretly wanted to join his since second year, when it had been founded. He'd also become an absolute villain to Scorpius Malfoy, who was the club's President, as well as the boy Albus had lost his heart to that first day on the train to Hogwarts, first year.

Frustrated by his circumstances, Al wanted nothing more in that moment than to lay his head down on the desk and to just allow the world to pass him by for the next century.

There was a shift in the air currents, and he distinctly felt a presence at his side a moment later. Stretching out his feelings, he encountered a magical aura that was distinctly familiar: firecracker hot, full of churning mental energy, with that delightful vibrancy that specifically belonged only to members of the Weasley family.

Hugo. He knew it was his cousin without even having to turn his head. The guy's aura always contained an extra undercurrent of raw, untried teen lust - which was funny, since he insisted he'd lost his virginity this year to Shannon Finnigan to anyone who asked. Al never called him on the lie, though, knowing it would only give Hu a complex. Besides, Shannon didn't seem to mind the fabrication, especially since she really fancied Hugo, so no one got hurt.

"Hey, coz! Homework?" Hu asked him, a good-natured grin plastered to the guy's freckled face. He adjusted the satchel hanging over his shoulder and nudged his chin at the blank paper lying untouched on the table before Albus. "If so, you've got a long way to go."

One year younger, Hugo may have closely resembled his father at the same age, but he'd been sorted a Ravenclaw - much to his dad's disappointment. The man had ragged on poor Hu for the first four years of his schooling, making the occasional cheap shot as to how Gryffindors were better in every way by reliving his past glories at Hogwarts. Hugo had only been able to console Uncle Ron by proving to be a mint Quidditch player, having been accepted to his team as Keeper at the start of term this year.

Al couldn't help but note the irony that both he and Hu had father issues - although Al had to admit that his father was a much better man, overall. At least Harry Potter had been thrilled over his son's sorting. At least his dad had never mentioned how much prouder he would have been if only Al had been 'up to Gryffindor snuff'.

Fathers and their sons - their relationships were never easy. That was especially true for those with famous parents, like he and Hu.

As well as for those with infamous pedigrees, like Scorpius Malfoy.

Just thinking of his heart's infatuation made Al's predicament return to the forefront of his thoughts.

Hu nudged his shoulder. "All right, there, Albie-Scowlbie?"

He threw his ginger-haired cousin a flat look. "You know I hate that nickname."

Hu grinned. "Yeah." His smirk dropped, his mood changing in an instant as he sensed Albus was not amused. "Seriously, man, you okay? You've seemed… off… all year." He leaned a hand on the desk and bent closer, as if to conspire. "Does it have something to do with the Skulls? Sis said she thinks you're under too much stress from the pledging, and that maybe you should reconsider. She says you need to be more focused on N.E.W.T.s than" - he made quote marks in the air - "some ridiculous club." He huffed and shook his head. "But then you know she doesn't approve of the whole secret society thing anyway. She turned down her invite to the Skulls on that principle alone, you know. Too much like mum in that respect."

Yeah, and Rose was too talkative for her own good sometimes, Al thought. He'd wanted to be in the Skull and Serpent since second year. Unfortunately, he'd only merited an invitation this year, his last in school, after pulling his grades up to the club's minimum standards.

Although the Skulls were a mystery to outsiders, what was common knowledge was that they were very selective in their pledge program. Only those with straight "O's" in Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, and Charms were even considered for the candidate list. Additionally, potentials had to take and pass with an "O" at least one elective course from a specific subset of classes: Herbology, History of Magic, Arithmancy, or Healing. And they expected you to maintain those types of grades on top of any extracurricular activities you were signed up for, like Quidditch or Choir, or membership in one of the other dozens of clubs around school.

Although he'd aced most of his subjects throughout his educational career, Al had found D.A.D.A. and Arithmancy in particular to be a struggle. He had finally managed at the end of sixth year to achieve the required 'Outstanding' grades necessary to merit an invite to the Skulls, though. So, the last thing he intended to do was turn in his pin and quit, as Rose had apparently hinted to her brother that Al should do.

He couldn't wait for the day he could show off his membership pin! He was sure his dad would have kittens, but his mum would be over the moon… Full-fledged members wore special pins on their ties - an oval-shaped cameo of a white skull with two vigilant serpents coiled around it, lying on a black backdrop, encased in burnished silver, attached to a pin bar with a chain - to signify their membership status. Pledges wore a fancy, silver key-shaped pin with wings, to signify their potential.

The hazing incident two weeks ago, in fact, occurred as a result of Albus forgetting his required pledge adornment that morning.

Al wished he had someone to actually confide in about the whole process, but the Skulls' rules in that regard were very clear. So, instead of bragging to Hu, he simply said, "Yeah, but I can't talk about it. You know that."

Hugh tsk'd. "Man, I can't wait to get my invite," he said, a faraway look in his eye. "My dad was never part of any secret society back in his days here."

Al sat up in his chair and began putting his things away, sensing he would get no further in his letter writing attempt tonight. "Actually, he was. Remember Dumbledore's Army?"

Hugo snorted. "If you want to call that a club, I guess. Sounded more like a rebellion to me. Still, the Skulls… everyone wants in. It's the shite. I'm hoping to get an invite next September. My last chance."

With a sigh, Al stood up and flung his satchel over one shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Come on," he bid, shoving his cousin's arm, "I'll walk you back to your common room."

Of course, his kind offer had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he knew Scorpius had Prefect rounds tonight on the west side of the castle - an area which just happened to include Ravenclaw's Tower. No, of course not.

"Yeah, sure," his companion replied. "Just let me check out a book I need for research."

"Right."

Al waited what seemed an interminable amount of time for Hugo to find and then check out his book. The guy lingered by the front desk, chatting up Madam Patil, the hot librarian who had taken Madam Pince's place when the woman had retired last year. His aura was filled with lustful intention, spilling over Al and making him incredibly uncomfortable as a result. Eventually, he had to drag his hormonally-challenged cousin out of the library by the arm, realizing how much time had passed while Hu flirted.

Unfortunately, as the clock tower bell rang out the ninth hour, he realized he'd missed his window to cross paths with a certain Slytherin because they'd taken too long on the fourth floor. He went to bed that night unsatisfied and a little bitter.

X~~~~~X

Malcolm Macmillan was an excellent Potions partner. He was organized, knowledgeable, at the top of their class on the subject, and pleasant to talk to. He had also been Al's roommate since their sorting. The two had become best friends over the years, and were as thick as thieves. Such a close friendship was why it was impossible for Al to hide his feelings for Scorpius from the guy.

As they worked together on a Dreamless Sleep Draught in class, Mac nudged an elbow into Al's ribs to get his attention. "You're staring at him again." Although they were the only ones at their bench, he was speaking low enough that no one nearby would hear.

Albus lowered his eyes to his cauldron, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "Hard not to. You know what his aura does to me. He's just really difficult to ignore."

"Yeah, so you've said repeatedly since first year," Mac murmured.

Al had never grown out of his acute sensitivity towards magic. What had started out as an odd, inexplicable ability to simply know if someone was telling the truth or not - simply by standing close enough to them - had evolved into the ability to actually read their emotional states by the age of eleven.

When he'd confessed in secret to Rose of these strange feelings he was having back then, she'd called him a 'magical empath'. At the time, he hadn't understood what that term meant, and he'd thought his cousin - who was much smarter than anyone their same age, taking after her mum - was making fun of him. He'd pushed her off the swing in her backyard for it, and caused her to knock-out her right, front tooth. He'd gone to bed that night without supper in punishment, even though they'd magicked her tooth back into her mouth at St. Mungo's.

By thirteen, when puberty struck, he'd been able to physically see magical auras as colours, not just sense them - but then, only if the owner was suffering a strong emotional reaction to something at the precise moment that Al was watching them.

The first time he'd seen an aura had been with Scorpius Malfoy. That day they'd been paired in Charms class to practice the Glacius spell, and their wands had accidentally crossed. A spark had travelled the length of the wooden rods, jolting up Al's arm on his side. Malfoy had obviously experienced the same thing, because a second later, his aura had blazed hot with embarrassment, glowing bright specifically about his head, turning his pale hair a sharp crimson shade. He'd quickly stepped away. A moment later, he'd asked the professor if he could go on a loo break and hurried out of the room. When he'd returned near the end of class, his emotions were, as usual, back under tightly held control and there was no colour around him at all - although he did look a bit sweaty.

Al had thought that one instance a one-time anomaly, or a trick of the light, or even that Malfoy was a Metamorphagus and could change his hair colour at will, like Teddy Lupin… until he'd seen a rainbow of colourful coronas encircling other people later that weekend. It didn't take him long to figure out that this extraordinary "halo effect" was just another stage in the growing strength of his weird magical talent - just another example of how different and freakish he was compared to everyone else.

Since that time, he'd been forced to learn on his own how to hone his ability, fine-tuning it to filter the strength of emotions he received. Most days, he could shut almost all of the world's riotous impressions out, and keep them from affecting his own moods. Sometimes, however, the feelings were so powerful - especially around War Memorial Day - that if he was around too many people who were all suffering some sort of strong emotional response, he was unable to close it all out and was subsequently left with a debilitating migraine that could last for a whole day or longer.

The one glaring exception to the blocking rule seemed to be Scorpius Malfoy. For some unfathomable reason, Al was incapable of disengaging from the guy's emotional responses if they were particularly strong. He always sensed them, even from far across a room. Once, he'd even felt them from clear across the castle. That had been fifth year, when Scor had had a really bad row with Euan Nott, his best friend. He attributed being so specially tuned-in to Malfoy because he was in love with him.

Some days, that connection really worked to his favour, as he was able to determine what Malfoy was feeling and to know how to appropriately respond. Other days, it was as if there was no way to dodge the guy or escape one of his cutting remarks. After such confrontations Albus, who was shy by nature, was often left flustered and out of sorts, his aura abilities out of flux and his feelings hurt. He sensed that today was going to be one of the latter experiences; his gut warned him so with a flip and a nauseous wave.

"Here." Mac handed him some valerian root. "Cut this up into thin slices. That'll give you something else to concentrate on." He patted Al on the lower back, his hand lingering just a bit longer than might be considered acceptable. The touch was familiar, affable, but also a bit more intimate than expected. It spoke of a closeness that wasn't quite as casual as 'just friends'.

Casting a sharp sidelong glance at his roommate, Albus was a bit disconcerted to see that Mac appeared completely unaffected by his action. Was the affectionate touch an accident, or did it mean something? He knew Mac was into blokes, too, but they'd never crossed that line in their friendship, and he couldn't discern the truth this time by attempting to read Malcolm's aura. The guy wasn't experiencing any sort of heightened emotion; his aura was as calm as ever.

Either way, the touch felt good. Really, really good.

Bugger, but Al seriously needed a solid wank! It had been two days since his last pull, and clearly his hormones were beginning to kick into overdrive.

Trying to ignore how Mac's persistent contact was making his cock stir to life in his pants, Al grabbed his apothecary knife from his Potions' kit and began carving up the root he'd been given. As he made his first slice, there was a shift in the magical energies in the room. Immediately, Al knew from whom it was emanating: Scorpius was approaching their bench with a quick stride, and from the way his aura lashed out before him, he seemed extremely perturbed.

Probably just irritated with Euan again and needs a break before he strangles him, he thought. Malfoy and Euan Nott were best friends, true, but the two fought like an old married couple sometimes. They could sound downright ridiculous, too, henpecking each other. Their arguments were the only times Al could really say that Scorpius lost his cool on a regular basis. Euan apparently knew all the right buttons to push.

Speaking of pushing… Malfoy's advance was like a brush of fire sweeping before him. With every step closer, the arousing, burning sensation of his powerfully emotive magic stroked against Al's. It suddenly became difficult to breathe. Heart racing, hands trembling, Al fumbled the apothecary knife and accidentally cut himself on its razor-sharp edge.

"Shite!" he hissed at the acute sting, raising the wound to his mouth to suck at it.

His roommate's hand slid away. "Is it bad?" Malcolm asked, putting down his cauldron stirring rod and reaching for his wand on the table. "Let me see. I'll heal it."

Al shook his head as he pulled the finger out to look at it. Crimson blood welled to the surface, making his stomach turn. Shite, but he hated the sight of blood. Swallowing back the queasy feeling in his belly, he inspected his injury. It was a deep cut, but wouldn't need a trip to the Hospital Wing. "Nah, my fault," he told his friend. "I got it."

Sucking his finger again, he reached for his satchel to pull out his wand, even as Mac stepped closer with his own wand raised to help.

Before he could grab his willow wood rod and cast a simple Healing Charm, two things happened in quick succession: Mac reached for his wrist to pull his hand from his mouth, and another lash of Scorpius' anger struck out at him, making him flinch from its intensity.

Malfoy was clearly angry about something and was spoiling for a fight. Usually, Al was too reticent to fight back, but right then, he was definitely being influenced by Scor's emotional outburst, as his own feelings of irritation began stirring through his guts.

He spun about to face his long-time crush, snapping at him contentiously. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Grey eyes glinted with surprise at being challenged. "Clumsy, Potter," Scorpius chided him with a needling smirk as he reached the bench. "Don't tell me you're going to sissy out again over something so small?"

A flush ran through Al as his pride took the hit. Everyone remembered him fainting in second year Herbology class when a baby Mandrake blew out Geoff Goyle's left ear. That Malfoy was reminding him of his tendency to have a vasovagal episode upon the sight of blood - something Al couldn't control - was not cool. "Up yours," he bit back, irate and humiliated. "It's your fault anyway. If you weren't so busy slithering up on people from behind, maybe I wouldn't have been distracted."

A narrowed, steely stare was leveled on him. "How did you know I was coming up on you if you couldn't see me?"

Shite. He'd said too much. No way could he tell Scor his secret. Very few people knew he had this funky thing for feeling out auras, and he preferred to keep it that way. He didn't want to be considered a freak. It was bad enough that the things he dreamed always came true eventually. Side-step adversity with diversion, his father might caution him under the circumstances. Deceitful manoeuvering wasn't really his thing, in general - that was more Lily's gig - but in this case, it was probably the better option. Besides, he was feeling moody, out of sorts… belligerent.

"What'd you come over here for, anyway? You and Nott fighting over curtain patterns again?" He rolled his eyes his mock disdain. "The two of you should just marry and get it over with."

Abruptly, Malfoy's aura went cold. His handsome face lost its snarky amusement, his gaze went flat and reptilian, and his emotions locked down tight. Obviously, he hadn't like the implication that he was a poof.

With a dismissive turn of his head, Scor gave all his attention over to Al's partner in the next beat. "Impromptu meeting tonight, same time as usual, same place."

Malcolm nodded in acknowledgement but kept his mouth closed, his eyes on the cauldron he'd returned begun stirring again. Apparently, he didn't want to get in the middle of the fight.

His message delivered, Scorpius turned on his heel and walked back to his bench to work with Euan on their assigned draught. He didn't bother to look at Al again, or to call out a parting shot, as he might normally have done. There was no reading from his aura either. Whatever had previously angered him was apparently no longer a concern.

The Slytherin Prince's odd behavior was perplexing, to say the least. Al tried to wrap his head around the last five minutes, and fuck if he could figure out how his words were worse than Scor's had been to him. Malfoy was always a puzzle, as far as he was concerned.

As he turned back to the cut on his hand, healing it with a simple wave of his wand, he realized that more important than his trip down Wallowing Way was that there was a Skulls meeting tonight! As a pledge, Albus was barred from all member meetings until such a time as he passed the initiation ceremony, so this was the first time he'd actually known when a meeting was going to be held.

If only he'd been considered for membership in his sixth year, as Hugo had so indelicately pointed out!

With an envious glance to the side, Al noted Malcolm's Skull and Serpent member pin decorating his tie. Club and activity pins were the only adornments allowed to the standard-issue uniforms at Hogwarts, granted by the new Headmistress, Professor Sinistra, when she'd taken over the administration during Al's first year. They'd grown in popularity since. There was now a pin for the Head Girl and Boy (to go along with their individual badges), the Prefects, the Wizard's Chess club, the various House Gobstones clubs, the Duelling clubs, the Caretaking of Magical Creatures club, the Hogwarts Choir, the Hogwarts Orchestra, the House Quidditch teams, the Wizard's Card Collecting club, the Magical Law and Debate club, the International Cooking club, the Exploding Snap club, the Colin Creevey Memorial Photography club, the Potions Club, the Quilting, Sewing, and Knitting club, the Shuntbumps club, the Hogwarts Swim Team, and of course, Skull and Serpent - the most mysterious club of them all.

Being at the top of their class, Macmillan had been a member of the Skulls since the society's inception. At that time, Albus could remember that he'd thought the group sounded spiff and wanted in, but hadn't merited an invite because of his grades. Within two years, the Skulls had expanded to become the number one club to join, with students clamouring for its notice. Too shy to even raise his hand in class until fourth year, Al had remained silent, watching enviously as others around him filled the ranks of the Skulls, proudly displaying their pins.

Man, he wished he knew who had backed his application to pledge the Skulls this year! After he'd received his invite, he'd asked around to find out the name of his Sponsor. Like everything surrounding the group, though, the identity of one's Sponsor was a secret; official contact was made strictly through owed notes to pledges. After three such inquiries to various members, he was discreetly told not to ask again or risk having his pledge pin pulled. Needless to say, he'd put his curiosity to temporary rest.

For not the first time, he wondered if Mac had vouched for him.

He also wondered if that meant his good friend was a juvvie Death Eater in training. The guy was a pureblood, after all.

X~~~~~X

That night, Albus dreamed of Scorpius Malfoy sitting upon a regal throne, surrounded by sycophants in Muggle zoot-suits and fedora hats.

Malfoy was beautiful, with his hair slicked back in the style he'd preferred for his first three years in school, and he wore the finest suit of all, tailored to fit by some famous Muggle designer. Albus bent over and kissed the Malfoy family insignia ring that Scor always wore on his right hand, swearing fealty to this wizard that he had adored for countless years.

As he stared into his new master's eyes, the dream shifted.

Scorpius' face was covered by a silver and black mask, like the ones Al had seen in the Ministry's War Memorial exhibit when he'd been ten. He wore a dark cowl that covered him from head to toe, leaving only the mask visible. Between the ominous eye slits, Scorpius was staring at him in wide-eyed terror. Unfortunately, there was no mouthpiece cut out of the mask for his screams to be heard, so his protests were effectively silenced.

Albus saw himself from the outside, reaching up to remove the mask, but it firmly held in place. No matter how hard he pulled, it seemed impossible to take off. And all the while, Scorpius writhed underneath in pain…

He awoke in his dormitory bed bathed in sweat, panting, his heart racing a mile minute.

"You okay, mate?" Mac asked in a hushed whisper from the bed next to his. "You were thrashing about and moaning in pain. You also said Malfoy's name a few times aloud."

Forcibly regaining his calm, Albus swallowed several times to wet his dry mouth. "I'm… fine. Bad dream is all." With that, he flopped back down and onto his side, rolling away from Malcolm so the man couldn't see his frustrated tears reflected by the flames in the magically lit heating stove in the center of their room.

It was always this way after a confrontation involving Malfoy, he silently anguished: they'd get into some sort of confrontation during the day, and then that night, he'd suffer a nightmare that would haunt him for days. Each one would be different, its message veiled in the metaphorical language of dreams. And he knew, that just like all of the others that had come before it, this dream contained a hint about the future that awaited them both.

Now, if only he could interpret what it meant…

X~~~~~X

It was a week later that, when rounding the corner to head into the second floor corridor to finish off this week's Prefect's rounds, Al came face-to-face with Scorpius, literally.

Malfoy was walking in the direction of the Grand Staircase, presumably heading towards the dungeon, when he and Albus spied each other. They both stopped on a knut at the last second, avoiding the collision that might have occurred had either of them been less coordinated.

Al couldn't prevent his gaze dropping from his love-hate rival's eyes to the man's perfect mouth, noting how close they were. Merely a foot separated their lips… He quickly glanced back up, not wanting to give his feelings away.

Too late, Scorpius noted the glance. His silvery gaze widened in enlightenment, then narrowed in consideration.

Mortified that he'd been caught ogling the guy's mouth, Al tried to step around Scor with a murmured, "Excuse me." His adversary wouldn't let it lie, however. He stepped into Al's path, cutting him off. When Al attempted to swerve the other way, he was again met with Malfoy's insistent person.

"I said, excuse me," Al gruffed. "Step aside, please. I -"

He never got to finish that sentence, as Malfoy grabbed his arms and turning them both, slammed Al into the niche corner between the open hallway arch and the stairs. It was a dark spot as no torch or candlelight touched its shadows, and a bit hidden by the architecture. It was a good spot to ambush someone - in this case, him.

"I knew it, Potter," Malfoy growled in a low, rough voice as his mouth proceeded to ghost above Al's in a sensual caress. "I knew it wasn't Macmillan you wanted."

Shaken by the unexpected encounter, and by the way Scorpius' aura flickered over his with a provocative sensuality, Al could only hold his breath and wait to see what happened next. This couldn't be happening! This couldn't be real… could it? His blood was a loud roar in his ears as his heart pounded like a mad thing under his ribs.

To his enormous shock, Malfoy aligned their bodies and pressed them together. Through his slacks, Al felt his aggressor's steely erection rub against him. To his great mortification, he went instantly hard in response, his body meeting Scor's lust with his own wanton version.

Scorpius grinned. His straight, white teeth were as sharp a contrast as his fair hair in the dim recess. "You want me, don't you?"

Albus shut his eyes and turned his head to the side, ashamed at the triumph reflected in Malfoy's expression. Scor would tell the whole school now. He would use this to mock him, maybe even to have his pledge pin pulled. Merlin Almighty, word might even get back to his father!

"Let me go," he demanded, mortified to the soles of his shoes.

Grabbing one of his wrists, his assailant pulled Al's hand up and brought it between them. "I don't think so. I've wanted to do this all week," the Slytherin pronounced.

To his utmost surprise, Scorpius brought Albus' previously injured finger to his mouth and licked over it from tip to base with erotic intent.

His gaze shot to his companion's in confusion, only to find the other boy's hungry, heated stare locked onto him, his full concentration on giving Al pleasure. As Scor began sucking the finger in and out between his lips, mimicking oral sex, his tongue swirling around the single digit in this mouth, everything clicked in his head: Hogwarts' Renaissance Man - the fellow every student was envious of and secretly wanted to emulate - was bisexual.

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy liked to have sex with men!

"Oh. My. God," Al whispered, understanding what this meant for his unrequited crush. "You… But… You want me," he whispered, understanding at last what all those covert glances had meant over the past few years. He'd thought they were Malfoy's way of trying to intimidate him - to carry on the feud that their fathers had begun back during their own school days. He'd totally misinterpreted them.

His partner gave an "Mmmm" of pleasure and thrust his hips into Albus'. It took everything Al had to clamp his lips closed and to transform the sound of a loud moan into a stifled grunt instead as their cocks rubbed together through their clothing.

With a final lick, Scorpius withdrew Al's finger from his mouth, his greedy attention focused on Al's lips. "Just a nip. I have to know…" He closed the distance between them, finally giving them their first kiss.

Gods, it was incredible! Scorpius was desperate to have at him, reckless in his desire - as if this kiss was his only chance and he wasn't going to waste it, not even to breathe. The hold he maintained on Al's upper arms to keep him steady was bruising in its intensity, and his mouth was a ravenous animal, feasting upon Al's taste.

His heart pounding out a wild beat in his chest, Albus moved on pure instinct. He'd never kissed anyone before, not like this. His untried technique was certainly inelegant, but he gave of himself honestly, without pretence. His fingers dug into Scorpius' hips as he held tight for purchase to the only solid thing in his world just then.

Malfoy rocked his pelvis against him again, sliding upwards, his solid length stimulating every inch of Albus' straining, throbbing shaft. They both groaned at the exquisite pleasure.

Abruptly, Scorpius broke the kiss. "Turn around," he growled, reaching to undo Al's belt.

His imperious command, given in a tone that would brook no argument, shook Albus out of his haze. "Wha-?" he asked, shocked at the implication of what his partner was expecting them to do out in the open and exposed as they were. "No!"

They couldn't do it here, where anyone could see! If they were caught by a wandering ghost or a passing teacher it would mean some serious disciplinary action against both of them. With only a few months left before graduation, and a Quidditch House cup on the line for Slytherin, neither of them could afford the consequences.

Besides, he didn't want to have sex for the first time standing up, facing a wall in some rushed coupling, but in a bed, lying down, and with his eyes on his lover's face.

As if he'd been doused in ice water, Scorpius' aura went instantly cold again, shutting down. He shoved Al away and stepped back, his emotions once more tightly disciplined. How the man managed to turn on and off his feelings so quickly was a complete mystery, but he had incredible self-restraint.

"You've never done this before."

For some reason, Al felt the need to defend his choice. "No. So?"

"A virgin. Figures," Malfoy denounced in a low, disappointed tone. With a sigh and an annoyed tsk, he straightened his tie and walked away, continuing on his original path down the stairs at the end of the corridor to head towards the dungeon. He didn't look back once, nor call out a parting shot.

It took Al several moments to figure out what had just happened. When he did, he was seriously miffed. He'd been thoroughly enjoying that snog! Just because he hadn't wanted to take it further yet, especially under the circumstances, didn't mean they'd had to stop kissing. Being a virgin didn't mean he was untouchable, for Helga's sake.

Boner throbbing and bollocks aching, he had half a mind to go chasing after the object of his lust for more, but held himself back, worried he'd be seen as some kind of desperate dog in need of his master's leg. Besides, he was feeling rather shy about what had just happened.

His first kiss… and it had been with Scorpius!

After adjusting himself so he could actually walk, Al finished off his rounds. He tried to focus on the positive parts of the encounter he'd just had, rather than how things had been abruptly cut off and left, reliving in his mind the fact that his greatest crush had a thing for him, too!

X~~~~~X

"You're not man enough for me," dream-Scorpius stated, lounging back into the plush cushions of his throne with a lazy stretch. He gave Al a snarky smile. "Shy, boyish Albus Severus can't give me what I want… what I need."

As he stood before the man, fully naked, his member deflated and limp against his thigh, Al felt flayed alive by such words.

He opened his mouth to refute, but nothing came out. Again and again, he tried to vocalize his feelings, but no sound was forthcoming.

"Too much a coward," the object of his obsession sneered at him, his sultry amusement gone. "You'll never measure up to your family's expectations."

His scornful expression slipped then, and he frowned.

"Just like me."

When Al regained full consciousness this time, Mac was sitting on the edge of his bed, shoving at his shoulder. "Idiot," his best friend scolded him as Al was jolted awake. "You forgot to Silence your bed again. That's twice this month." His friend pushed on his chest to get him to lie back to sleep. "I've taken care of it this time, but try not to forget again. You know why."

That he often dreamt of the future was another secret that Al had shared with his best friend over the years. It had been impossible to hide such a thing from him as Mac was a light sleeper, and Al's thrashing about and moaning always woke the guy up.

Albus could feel his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. Wiping sweat from his brow with the back of a hand, he turned onto his side and closed his eyes, exhausted. "Thanks," he mumbled to his friend as sleep began to take him back into the cradle of its arms.

"Welcome," Mac whispered.

He didn't dream again that night.

X~~~~~X

The next morning, Al risked a peek over at Slytherin's table. Sitting in his usual spot down the end, furthest from the teacher's table, Malfoy and his friends were gathered over plates heaped with eggs, toast, beans, and bangers. The Prince of Snakes was watching him from the corner of his eye, even as Brick Flint was talking up a storm in his right ear.

Mortified at being caught peeking, Al quickly looked away, turning his attention to Mac instead. "So, um," he began, clearing his throat and lifting his tea cup to his lips, "Duelling Club tonight, right?" He took a sip of the spiced morning tea that was his favourite cup of the day.

He'd signed up for the Hufflepuff Duelling Club last year at Mac's insistence. The practical application of his classroom texts was what had helped pull up his grades in D.A.D.A., Charms, and Transfiguration, thus making him eligible for a Skulls bid. He wore the D.C.'s small, round pin prominently on the lapel of his uniform robes like a pip, as even though it was forbidden while pledging the Skulls to share one's tie with other organization's pins, he still wanted to show his pride in the Hufflepuff D.C. in some manner.

His friend nodded. "See you there?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

Mac placed a warm hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "That's the spirit we like to see in our pledges!"

Al blushed at the touch…

…and felt a blast of jealous anger directed his way from across the room.

He immediately recognized the owner of that particular aura, and paused with his cup half-way raised to his mouth again, trying to decide what to do in response. Should he move away from Mac, or should he let it lie?

He made a firm decision on the spot: no one - not even Malfoy - would dictate his friendships or their level of importance in his life. It was bad enough he let his dad's expectations push him around.

Besides, Scorpius had made it clear that he wasn't into popping cherries, so that meant there was nothing for them until Albus decided to give it up to someone. Therefore, the guy had no right to be upset at Al if he found any sort of sexual comfort from another man.

Not that he was looking in Mac's direction for that sort of thing, because he wasn't. He was thinking more in terms of a generality.

With a smile, Albus changed the subject to Quidditch, paying no matter to Malcolm's lingering touch, before finally feeling it leave off. He also attempted to ignore Scorpius' blatant irritation, which flared up several more times over the course of the meal, as he and Mac joked and talked. He didn't look towards the other side of the room, either, when gathering up his satchel and walking with Mac to classes.

Thank the Founders he didn't share any classes with Malfoy today, though, because he wasn't sure he was one who could keep up a false act for long.

X~~~~~X

It was a few days later, on a dreary, gray Saturday evening that Al stumbled across something that changed a lot of his understanding of the world.

He had decided to go on a long, solitary walk to brood over what to do about the situation with his father some more. As his feet took him in the direction of the Ravenclaw stands, he heard noises around the corner that made him stop in his tracks. It was the sound of wet, smacking kisses.

Al's first thought was to turn around and mind his own business, but then he heard something that glued his feet to the floor.

"Fuck, it hurts! Stop!"

"Shhh, pretty boy. I'll go slower. Just relax. Your first time takes some adjusting. Trust me."

He knew the owners of the voices, and as he stretched out his feelings, he recognized their auras. Hugo was having sex with Malcolm. He was losing his virginity to a man… on the grass outside the Quidditch arena.

Holy. Shite.

"That's it. Just relax for me. Let me in. Gods, you're so tight!" There was a moment's pause. "I'm in all the way now. You okay?"

Hugo was panting, and his voice was a bit pained. "No, you're splitting me in two…. fuck! Okay, okay. I think… just… move slow, yeah?"

"I will. Relax for me. You're gripping me too hard and that's why it hurts. Let go, and it'll start to feel so good." Soft kisses punctuated his words. "That's it. Relax around me, my pretty boy."

Al pressed his back to the wooden wall of the stands and listened, feeling the residual heat from a Warming Charm seeping into his skin, keeping him from experiencing the cold of the outdoors. The way Mac talked Hugo through the pain and the awkwardness was sexy and romantic, and when the sounds of them began to move with increasing heat, Hu was right there with his lover, moaning and enjoying it.

This was how he imagined Scorpius might talk to him if they…

He heard Malcolm groan and murmur something unintelligible as he came, but he didn't hear Hugo give his own roused shout or moan, and thought perhaps he hadn't released. Unable to quell his curiosity any longer, he peeked around the corner.

His best friend was on top of his cousin, who was lying on his back on a woollen blanket, and they were facing each other. Mac slipped from his lover's embrace and slid down Hugo's body in a quick glide. When Malcolm's mouth was even with Hugo's still-erect cock, he stroked it in his hand a few times, and then took it in between his lips, suckling hard. Hugo groaned, planted his heels into the grass and thrust his hips up. His fingers found Mac's soft, dark hair and held on, as he let loose a string of profanity that was tinged with awe.

In the fading light, as twilight approached, Al could see everything… and the sight unexpectedly turned him on. It wasn't because of Hu, though. It was because of Malcolm. The man's loving attention to giving his partner pleasure was something Al had dreamed of always having for himself with a man his first time.

That his cousin was getting this kind of kingly treatment, when the guy had previously given no clue as to his sexual orientation, seemed a bit unfair. Still, Albus was unable to pull his eyes away. He watched as Mac expertly sucked his lover off, and as Hu's backside rose off the grass with a final thrust as he came. Al's best friend seemed to drink every drop of semen down, his throat convulsing with swallow after swallow.

When it was over, Malcolm crawled back up Hugo's limp, pale body and knelt over him. His thick cock was silhouetted in the last of the light, dipping down between their bodies, and rubbing against his lover's.

The two men kissed.

"So, what did you think?" Mac asked. "Was it everything you wanted?"

Hugo folded his powerful arms behind his head. "It was different than I expected, but yeah, it was amazing. Did you really learn how to do this from Jamie?"

Albus' eyes nearly bugged from his head. He and Hugo only knew one bloke named 'Jamie', and that was James, Al's older brother.

Mac kissed Hu again with a quick, chaste press of lips. "Yeah. Your cousin was my first. And now I've been yours." He began scrambling to get his clothing together.

Quickly, Al hid again behind the safety of the wall, continuing to listen.

"You think you're going to want to do this again?" Mac asked his lover.

Hugo was quiet for a bit. "Not sure. Like I said before we started, it's just a bit of-"

"-experimenting, yeah," Malcolm finished for him. "That's fine, if this was all you wanted. No hurt feelings on my end."

Albus heard the two of them shift about, replacing clothing, and considered a quick escape route.

"You know, Mac, I heard you say his name. Right when you came, I heard you whisper it."

There was a silent moment, and it was obvious from the flare of heated emotion that Al felt reach him that Malcolm was embarrassed by whatever gaff he had committed.

"You won't tell him, will you?"

"No," Hu said, "But I want the truth: did you secretly wish I was him the whole time? Is that why you called me 'pretty boy'? Because, let's face it, we both know Albus is much prettier than I am."

Al froze, completely floored by what he'd just heard.

"I won't tell him," his cousin promised the other man. "And I can take the truth. I won't be hurt."

Mac didn't immediately respond. It took him at least a good minute more before he did. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that… You were fantastic, Hugo. I know you said it was just to try it out, but you should know, you're a wonderful lover. Your honest passion is a real turn-on."

"You didn't answer my question," his cousin dogged him.

Albus' palms were sweating, and he realized in that moment just how much he wanted the answer to the question, too. Had Malcolm really imagined he was having sex with Al while he was screwing his cousin?

"I didn't mean for that to happen. This was supposed to be about you. I've gone and bollocks it up," Mac despaired. "I just… never realized how much I loved him until recently. But… fuck, he's my best friend, and… he's in love with someone else, so it's hopeless."

"You mean, Malfoy," Hugo stated, and there was an uncomfortable pause. "Yeah, that's been obvious for years. Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to do this with me when you have feelings for Al."

"No," Malcolm protested, and the sound of him kissing Hugo to shut him up was loud in the still air. "You should have. You wanted a good first experience, and… I just hope I gave you that. I hope this thing with Albus hasn't made you feel badly. I didn't want that for you."

Hugo gave a small huff and Al could just picture the affected smile on his face that he knew would be there. "Nah. You and me, we're good. Not sure I'll want to do this again, though. I think… I might be more into girls."

Mac's voice shifted into a lower, sultry tone that made the hairs on the back of Al's nape stand to attention. "How do you know? You've never fucked a girl. You might not like it. Besides, you haven't topped yet. I get the sense from what we did that you're not a bottom, but you might enjoy taking the dominant position instead. Want to give it a try and find out?"

"You're a horny one, you know?" Hugo laughed, and then moaned. Apparently, Malcolm was touching him somewhere that felt good.

Mac chuckled. "Yeah, Jamie said the same thing."

They started kissing again, and Al took the opportunity to slip away unnoticed, hurrying back towards the school.

He got back to his dorm room, and found it empty. Assuming the others were at dinner, he hurriedly shucked his clothes, jumped into his bed, closed the curtains and bespelled them for privacy, and wanked - hard. His fantasy involved Scorpius speaking to him as Malcolm had done for Hugo, and when he came, he released a powerful surge of seed all down his hand and across his belly, calling out Malfoy's name.

In the afters, he used his wand to clean up and then lay back in his bunk to think.

Malcolm was in love with him.

Malcolm was in love with him.

Malcolm was in love with him.

Yes, the idea certainly shifted Al's thoughts about his best friend in a way he hadn't expected, but it didn't change anything. He was in love with Scorpius. He wasn't sure that would ever stop, either, until he either grew out of it over time, or until the end of his very long life. Malfoy wasn't easily forgotten.

The revelation, though, cinched something in his mind that had been bothering him for months: his best friend had been the one to support his pledge in the Skulls - had to be. Which belied the question that if the Skulls were up to no good, would Malcolm want Al, the man he claimed to love, to be involved with something as nefarious as sedition? Most likely not.

The case against the Skulls was growing colder and colder the more he learned about them. He privately hoped his initial conclusions would match the reality once he was initiated and learned the truth.

At least something good had come from finding out about his best friend's secrets…

Hugo.

Gods, his cousin had fucked a bloke - and it had been his first time. For someone who wasn't sure whether they were into men or not, that had taken some serious guts. Al envied him. If only he were as confident, maybe he wouldn't still be a virgin at eighteen. Maybe then Scorpius would go there with him, since he obviously didn't like breaking people in, like Mac did.

Mac.

Fuck. What the bloody hell was he going to do about his best friend's romantic interest in him? Al wasn't in Slytherin; he couldn't hide his feelings and he was terrible at lying. Every time he looked at Malcolm now, he would be reminded that the guy wanted him in more than a platonic way, and the guilt of not being able to return such feelings would crush him. How could he deal with that, and not change the dynamics of their long-time relationship? If only he had a confidant.

Jamie.

He could ask his brother for advice. Maybe his sibling would know what to do. The guy was older, wiser, and had personal experience handling men, apparently…

His stomach growled, interrupting his train of thought and reminding him that it was dinnertime. He crawled out of bed, dropping the wards about it, and got dressed. Luckily, he didn't run into Malcolm on the way. He didn't see him or his cousin at dinner, either.

Apparently, Hugo's first time was going to be an unforgettable night.

X~~~~~X

At Al's owled request, James Apparated into Hogsmeade early Sunday afternoon, and the two met out front of The Hog's Head at noon. As the two brothers sat in a corner table away from the light and laughter closer to the long bar, waiting for their Hot Buttered Rums to cool, they got down to it.

"What's this all about, then?" Jamie asked, a sly smile crossing his perpetual five o'clock shadow. "Finally figuring out that babes don't come from storks?"

Al took a sip of his drink and glanced at his brother over the rim of his glass. James was four-years his senior, and he had always looked up to the guy; he was charismatic and open, a prankster, but good-hearted. He'd been the sole Gryffindor of the Potter children, with Lily ending up in Slytherin, and Al, of course, sorted a Hufflepuff. Physically, the man looked more like their mother than any of the three siblings; his dark brown hair gleamed with hints of auburn in the sunlight and he had an honest smile, proving that the Weasley traits bred strong in him.

Al had always felt that he and his older brother couldn't be more dissimilar, like they'd been born to different parents on different continents (and Lily was on a whole other planet from him, as far as he was concerned). Albus Severus was the serious one of the Potter brood - the one who rarely joked, who was solemn in fulfilling his responsibilities, with his father's green eyes and coal black hair… and with the weight of living up to Harry Potter's reputation a heavy burden upon his shoulders.

Now he wondered, as he stared into eyes the same nut-brown colour of their mother's, if James was really as different from him as he'd always believed.

"I've heard some things around," he began, getting the ball rolling, "about your time here at school. Things you did."

James was a legend around Hogwarts for the hijinks he'd pulled while a student there and he knew from the grin that bloomed across his face that his brother misunderstood, thinking this was Al's meaning.

"Things you did with men," he clarified.

The grin fell. Jamie's cheeks turned bright red. His suddenly blooming aura matched. He took a long sip of his alcoholic drink, presumably for courage. "It was a phase, that's all," he admitted in a very low tone. "I'm into witches now."

Al turned his glass mug around in his hands, feeling its warmth seep into his bones, staring into the rich, dark depths of his amber-yellow drink. "I'm gay," he blurted, terrified at making the confession, but needing to get this weighty secret off his chest. If he couldn't trust his big brother with such a thing, who could he trust? "I'm not bisexual. I only like men. Well, actually, I like one man in particular. But, I've never… um… That's why I called you here. I need your advice on what to do."

James' jaw fell open. He seemed to need a moment to collect his wits, and to come up with an appropriate response, so he took another chug of his drink.

Albus decided to just throw it all out there and see where the chips would lie. He fully unburdened himself in one long declaration, starting with his strange abilities, moving on to Malcolm's unrequited feelings for him, and ending with the Skulls and his complicated relationship with Scorpius Malfoy. In between, he covered his struggle to meet their father's expectations, and his despair at his own lack of self-confidence coupled with his shyness, especially as it pertained to sex. James didn't say a word. He listened with solid attention instead, for once taking something seriously.

When he was done, Al's Hot Buttered Rum had gone cold, and an hour had passed, and now his throat was a bit sore from talking so much. But his heart and his shoulders felt a little lighter.

Jamie tossed back the last swig of his drink, and stood up, signalling Al to follow. They threw some money down on the table and left the pub, making their way back through town, towards the castle carriages. They walked with a purposefully slow gait and avoided clusters of people, talking in low voices.

"Listen, little brother, you're going to explode holding so much in all the time," James put it to him. "The world does not rest on your shoulders. You need to learn to relax, to find out what you like - not what you think others expect you to like." He poked Al in the shoulder. "And you need to just put yourself out there and stop letting fear or other people's expectations dictate your actions… and your future."

Al kicked at the snow as they walked.

That's exactly what Hugo had done last night with Malcolm - put his heart, body, and mind out there. It seemed to have worked out for him, too. He'd gotten what he'd wanted, and no one had been hurt in the exchange. The thought of doing such a thing with Scorpius, however, terrified Al. It was one thing to fantasize about slipping Malfoy the tongue, but another thing entirely to step up and take the chance for real. "Easy for you to say. You were the most popular boy in school. You've always had a handle on who you were and what you wanted. You were never shy."

"I was just as shy as you are when I was younger," Jamie countered. "I just decided at some point that I didn't like anyone telling me what to do or how to think. That's stubbornness, not confidence. Besides, it's not like I'm a model citizen. Mum and Dad would love for me to take less after Uncle George, and be more like you." He scuffed Al's hair in fondness. "Maybe if I had, I'd be in a different place in life, rather than working at the WWW in The Alley."

"Hey!" Al protested and slapped his brother's hand away.

Jamie gave a warm, rich laugh, but a beat later, he grew serious once more. "Really, Al, you just need to become more comfortable in your own skin. Part of that is exploring these new abilities you have. Find a creative way to use them to your benefit instead of resenting them so much. They're cool. I wish I could know how people were really thinking and feeling. It'd save me a load of headaches later. And who knows? Maybe these gifts you've been blessed with are the key to figuring everything out for you."

Albus glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "And… Scorpius?"

His brother's lips pursed together and he blew a heavy breath through them. "Everyone has to face that moment when they make a big decision that changes everything. Maybe it's time you and Malfoy had it out. Just lay it all out for him like you did with me. Ask him how he feels about you."

"I… I don't think I have the confidence to do that," Al admitted. "What if he mocks my feelings? I'd be crushed."

"And what if he returns them instead?" Jamie shrugged, and a sly grin worked its way up his cheek. "You could be together right now, happily snogging out, instead of out here in the cold, whinging on about it to me."

Al stopped in the middle of the path, and threw his head back, looking up at the darkening sky above. It was getting later in the day, and even though sunset was creeping closer to six o'clock as the days passed, the cloud cover above made it seem like nightfall would be upon them very shortly. "But, Malcolm… it would hurt him if Scor and I… if things worked out there. I don't want that."

James sighed. "Malcolm's going to hurt no matter what so long as you don't return his affections. You're not responsible for his feelings, Albus, and you can't give up your own happiness for his."

He was right, of course. Albus knew that in his heart. Still, he hurt for Mac, knowing that a broken heart was a horrible thing. "What about this thing with the Skulls? I want in, but what if Dad's right and they're up to no good? I'd have to turn them all in."

His brother shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and began walking again. Al hurried to catch up. "My advice is this: listen to your own instincts as far as the Skulls are concerned. Do you trust Malcolm's judgment? You said he's in the group, right? If so, then you can bet he wouldn't do anything to put you in danger, especially since he has feelings for you that run deep. If you have doubts, though, you should talk to him about it. He might not be able to reveal club secrets or anything like that, but maybe he can ease your doubts."

Al flushed with that familiar sinking shame every time he thought about the task his father had asked him to undertake. "I feel almost like… like a dirty cheat, or something. Playing this game. Ratting on my friends." Clenching his fists at his sides, his anger gripped him hard and shook him. "I feel so trapped by Dad and his expectations! I hate it!"

His brother stopped them again with pressure on Al's shoulder. "Is it Dad's expectations that are weighing you down, Albus, or your own?" James gave him a contemplative, narrowed-eye stare. "Sounds to me like you're the one still worried about what he thinks of you."

Al felt his heart stutter at that, the truth hitting him hard.

"Dad loves you for who you are, bro, and he'll love you even if you tell him you can't do this thing he wants anymore, and the reason why." Jamie slapped him hard on the shoulder twice and tugged on his arm to get them walking again. "Trust me. I've told him things that have nearly turned his hair gray on the spot, and he's always forgiven me."

Al tweaked an eyebrow at that. "Like what?"

His brother gave him a wicked smirk. "Let's just say that Mum and Dad nearly became grandparents at too young an age more than once. I've been a randy bastard since puberty."

Al tsk'd. "But, I'm gay. I'm not going to have to worry about that kind of thing." He slowed as a new thought occurred to him, turning his stomach over at the same time. "Shite, how am I going to explain liking guys to him? Dad's accepting of a lot of things, but this… I'm afraid he'll be really disappointed. You'll be the only one left who can carry on the Potter name."

Jamie laughed. "You worry about all the wrong things, little brother. It's telling Gran that's going to be the hard part. You know how it's been at The Burrow since Uncle Charlie told her he wasn't interested in getting married or having kids. Unless you adopt or find a surrogate, you're going to have to break the news to her about no grandbabies either. I don't envy you that conversation."

Albus winced. Yeah, there was the whole coming out to the rest of the family to look forward to as well. Eventually, he'd have to do that. He only hoped they were all as accepting as Jamie seemed. "So, you're really not… put off… that your brother's into blokes?" he asked, as they resumed walking towards their destination, the train platform visible in the distance.

"Nah," Jamie offered, settling that point with an easy roll of his shoulders "You've got to be who you are, even if the world doesn't approve."

And that attitude suited James Sirius Potter to a tee: ever the courageous Gryffindor, unafraid of all his tomorrows. If only he could borrow an ounce of that courage for himself, Albus thought he'd be a much better man overall.

X~~~~~X

His pledge pin bit into the soft pads of his palm as Al clenched his hand around it. He'd been carrying it around for the last three days, seriously considering whether to chuck it in the bin or put it back on his tie. He was still fifty-fifty on that decision.

For the past few days, he'd been given strange looks by Skulls members and other pledges for daring to remove the pin, but to his surprise, no one reprimanded him. He wondered if everyone could sense just how close he was to calling the whole thing quits, and they didn't want to add any undue pressure, just in case.

Or maybe they were just happy he was considering dropping out. Who knew for sure, as the whole bloody organization was one big, festering secret?

After his conversation with James, Al had returned to Hogwarts with a lighter heart, still indecisive on a number of issues, but at least feeling as though he had someone to fully confide in should he have need. That tremendous burden he'd carried around for years seemed somehow less than before, and it was a good feeling.

His near-euphoria came crashing down moments later as he passed through the Viaduct Courtyard on his way back into the Entrance Hall. There, bundled up against the cold and hanging out together, were Brick Flint, Delilah Vaisey, Violet Zabini, and Scorpius Malfoy. Flint was sitting on a bench talking with Vaisey, while Slytherin's Prince was standing behind them, engaged in a heated snog with Vi as he pinned her to the column with his bigger body. Steam rolled off them from the heat they generated, and their breaths escaped as white, puffy clouds that encircled them as they kissed.

Witnessing the scene made Al's step falter, and his heart seize in his chest.

He'd known Vi was Malfoy's sometimes-girlfriend, and over the years, he'd seen them do more than just kiss. When he'd assumed Scor wasn't into guys, he'd been able to put public scenes like this one in their proper perspective, and not be so hurt by them. However, since that night they'd passionately embraced in the second floor corridor's hidden nook, everything had changed. Now Albus knew that Malfoy was into men, too - into him, specifically. So, observing the man he'd been locking lips with not that long ago in a passionate embrace with someone else caused an eruption of emotion from Al that he hadn't expected: anger, jealousy, betrayal, pain. It all melded together inside him until he felt ready to burst from the hurt.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART TWO