Collateral Damage, for Jennifer (Pt. 3)
2 May, 2039
Victory Day celebrations were hollow ones for the former followers of the Dark Lord, but they were necessary. That day hadn’t brought very many of them good tidings, but to not observe one of only three major holidays was simply not done. So, each year on the anniversary of Harry Potter’s defeat of Voldemort, the pure-blooded brass would come out en masse to pretend that they had always been on the right side.
That day had arrived. This time, it was the Bletchley family’s turn to hold the big party. Just like their peers, they spared no expense, not thinking twice about the obscene level of extravagance. All in all, it was just like every year before, Scorpius had said.
So there they stood, Albus in his feminine disguise and dressed to kill, and Scorpius equally decked out, bored out of their minds as they wished to be anywhere else on the planet than there. Every one of these get-togethers were the same: dancing, music, indulgent food, and trying to look wealthier than the person next to you. If he hadn’t needed to be there, Albus would have begged to leave.
Desperate for something to do, Scorpius had volunteered to fetch drinks for the night, to which Albus agreed. That gave him time to eavesdrop unnoticed, and if one thing was certain, it was that Scorpius knew when he didn’t hold ‘her’ complete attention. On one such drink run, though, Albus’s already strange relationship with Richard Greengrass was vaulted into a whole new level of weird.
Greengrass sat down in the seat that Scorpius had just vacated, drumming his fingers on the table. He said nothing for a while; instead, he simply scanned the throng of people over and over again as if looking for one particular person. Finally, he said, “Have you ever chatted with my daughter, Daphne?”
Shaking his head, Albus said, “No, sir, I haven’t. I’ve seen her a few times, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” And where the hell had that come from?
“No matter,” he said. “I just thought you should meet her husband, Patrick. There are few with purer bloodlines than the Hornbys, so they’re definitely worth getting to know.”
Albus still had no idea why Greengrass thought that it mattered one whit to him, but that was neither here nor there. Since the man was in his eighties, perhaps he was simply going senile and everyone had the good grace to look the other way. That made far more sense than meeting some random bloke just because his blood was slightly purer and definitely more inbred than most of the rest of them in the room.
And just like that, Greengrass left. Before Albus could process what had just transpired, Scorpius came back with two very large glasses of punch. As per ‘her’ request, one was free of any alcohol, but Scorpius had no such willpower. These things were simply too damnably dull to go through it sober, he had said. As much as Albus had wanted to get sloshed, as well, he needed his wits about him.
To pass the time, they would alternate between dancing and sitting on the perimeter of the room, gossiping about who was seeing whom and who was jealous of that fact. Only sheer boredom could have made that half as amusing as it was, but it was something to do.
Much to Albus’s annoyance, no one was asking him to dance. That had always been the easiest way to scout out information, but now he was relegated to Scorpius’s visits to the bar for any reconnaissance. And then there was that bizarre conversation - if one could call it that - with Greengrass. There had to be something to it, but he could hardly just ask the man.
Patrick Hornby, eh? Peeling himself out of his seat, Albus was simply too curious to let it be. Not too far away, he spotted Scorpius’s Aunt Daphne, and he was fairly certain that the man she was talking - well, more like arguing - with was her husband. He put on his best ‘I’m completely lost’ expression and wandered by the squabbling couple. It was hard to maintain, though, considering what they were arguing about.
“I’m not going to say it again, Patrick. We are not taking a serving girl home with us. I’m pretty sure it won’t ruin the rest of your life if you don’t have a threesome before you die.”
Catching sight of Albus, Daphne blushed. “Melinda, dear, are you looking for Scorpius?”
“Well, sort of. It’s just that…” Albus paused for dramatic effect, hoping that these two were either stupid or drunk enough to buy what he was going to say. “I want to dance, but no one will ask me because I’m with him. I was hoping that if I moved around, someone would pluck up the nerve.”
Daphne seemed sympathetic, and she glared meaningfully at her husband. Hornby knew that he was already in trouble and likely knew what was good for him, which coincidentally was doing whatever his wife told him. “Miss, er, Melinda, would you care to dance?”
That had been far too easy. It was almost funny how simple it had become for Albus to use his ‘feminine wiles’ to get what he wanted. As Hornby took him out onto the dance floor, it struck him how accustomed he now was to being Melinda and not himself. At some point, the lines had blurred to the point where he was just as much Albus as he was her.
After a few minutes, Hornby asked, “So, you, er, heard what my wife and I -“
“Yes.”
“I don’t suppose you would want to -“
“No.”
If the mere suggestion hadn’t been so damned funny, Albus would have knocked the man silly. It did bring up a new question, though, and it was why the hell Greengrass had thought Melinda would want anything to do with this old pervert. If he didn’t like his grandson’s choice in girlfriends, perhaps he could be less enigmatic and just ruddy well say so.
So they finished their dance in silence, but Albus couldn’t let the opportunity pass to find out why he was supposed to be interested in Hornby. “So, Mr Greengrass said that your family is one of the purest of the pure-bloods. I admire your dedication, especially in times like these.”
“You’re telling me!” he said sharply. “Damned Mudbloods are everywhere. They’re even letting them run the bloody country!”
Now that was an interesting turn. Get the man to stop thinking with his pud and he was actually useful. “Quite so. My father wouldn’t have liked that. It’s no wonder he stayed abroad until he died.”
“Good man he was, then. It’s nice to see some of you kids keeping to sensible ideals. Unlike that boyfriend of yours.”
Albus shrugged. “Well, I can hardly condemn him because of that. He more than makes up for it.”
That unsavoury look returned to Hornby’s eyes - the one that meant his mind had wandered back to filthy territory. “Young stud like that? I’ll bet.”
Pretending shock and embarrassment, Albus said, “No, not like that! I meant that he’s nice. My mum would have liked him. He’s a nice, well-bred man that comes from an influential family. Nobody’s perfect, but he comes close.” He wanted to steer the conversation far from his sex life and back toward blood status. Hornby was a prime candidate to be a Knight, and if he didn’t get any information that night, at least adding a suspect would be somewhat of an accomplishment.
“Well, you seem to be of a proper mind, so I might as well tell you that it won’t be long before decent people like you and me don’t have to keep our thoughts and beliefs behind closed doors.”
Finally! “Oh,” Albus said, trying not to sound nearly as excited as he really was.
“Let’s just say that out with the new and in with the old will definitely change the balance of power.”
The subject seemed to be closed, but it was definitely an enlightening conversation. Of course, he would have to reflect upon it later, because Albus spotted Scorpius coming toward them. Stopping, he said, “I believe I’ve been missed, so if you’ll excuse me.”
Scorpius nodded at Hornby. “Uncle Patrick.” He all but snatched Albus away. “Nice to see you.”
From his tone of voice, Albus was sure that Scorpius was not at all pleased to see Hornby. It might have had something to do with him being a dirty old man, but nevertheless, his interaction with Hornby was officially over. “We were just having a quick spin.” Turning on his best charm, he added sweetly to Hornby, “And it was lovely to meet you.”
With a bow, Hornby said, “Likewise, my dear. Have a good night.”
As Albus was practically dragged away, Scorpius was obviously gritting his teeth in anger. He could barely keep up with the murderous pace with his much shorter legs.
“Oi!” Albus finally said, jerking his arm free. He was tired of being hauled around. Putting his fists on his hips like his mum did when she was angry, he hissed, “I can walk fine on my own, thank you. And what in the name of Merlin’s most baggy y-fronts was that about, anyway?”
“He’s a sleaze, Melinda! You’re lucky he didn’t throw you over his shoulder and shag you in the nearest empty room!”
Albus was completely incensed. It wasn’t because his work had been interrupted; he was angry that Scorpius was treating him like a stupid little girl. “Ha! That’s bloody likely. And who the hell are you to tell me who I can or can’t talk to?”
Instead of being contrite, Scorpius only seemed to become more aggravated. “I’m only trying to look out for you! You don’t know these people like I do, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I can take care of myself. Fucking hell, I’m not a little girl!” Albus could practically see red, and he couldn’t keep up his persona. The lines were dangerously blurred between who Melinda was supposed to be and the righteously angry Albus. “You have no right to order me around!” Very aware of how public their argument was becoming, he spun on his heel and stomped out of the ballroom, much like the angry little girl that he had just professed not to be.
He’d had enough. He was leaving as fast as he could get past the reach of the Anti-Apparition wards. Scorpius was calling for him to come back from behind him, but Albus was far too pissed off at him to oblige. “Go to hell,” he shouted over his shoulder.
Just as he was about to reach the end of the grounds, Scorpius caught up to him. “Seriously, this is ridiculous! Why the hell are you being so…so mental?”
“Because I’m not yours to order around!” Albus practically shrieked. The sound was grating to his own ears, but he didn’t care. “If I want to dance with a fucking goblin, I will! You have no say in the matter.”
Scorpius raked his fingers through his hair. “So what I feel doesn’t matter? The fact that I love you more than anyone else on this whole damned planet doesn’t factor in at all? Do I really mean that little to you?”
That brought Albus pause. For months, he’d worried about hurting Scorpius unjustly, and that’s what he had just done. That had never been his intention, but there was no taking it back now. “I’m sorry,” he said softly before sitting on the ground and hugging his knees to his chest. “That all came out wrong.”
Disarmed by the sudden change in ‘her’ demeanour, Scorpius sat down next to Albus and put an arm around his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. I only did it because I was worried about you, not because I didn’t trust you.”
The sincerity in Scorpius’s voice made Albus want to throw up. He had just gone completely insane, and instead of being told he was out of order, the git had to go and apologise. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Scorpius asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Stop saying you’re sorry. I’m being a complete bitch, and you’re being far nicer to me than I deserve. You should be telling me to sod off.” At this juncture, Albus wasn’t even trying to be Melinda anymore. He was too distraught, and the fact that his eyes were starting to water just exacerbated that. As the tears started to spill, he roughly wiped them away. “Shit.”
Scorpius pulled Albus close to him and stroked his hair. “No, you were right; I was being a jealous prat. I couldn’t stand seeing his hands on you, and I overreacted. You just put me in my place is all.” Then he chuckled. “Where did you learn to swear like that? You’d make an Auror blush.”
His focus finally returning, Albus said, “Oh, just some things I picked up here and there. Nothing too sordid.” He was still not ready to look Scorpius in the eye, but there was one thing he did have to do. “I’m sorry. I was horrible.”
“Let’s just forget it, okay?” Scorpius kissed the top of ‘her’ head. “Why don’t we just call it a night?”
Albus allowed himself to be led all the way off the grounds, and Scorpius held him close as he Apparated them to the front steps of the hotel. Shooing off the footman, he let himself in and headed straight to the lifts. It would have been practical to work out some way of fending Scorpius off at the door, but he was just too tired of everything to bother. The entire thing made him sick, especially how it had made him act. He would have even gone so far as to say he hated himself for it.
The ride was completed in silence, and they traversed the hallway wordlessly, as well. As the door was charmed to open only to Albus’s hand, he absently did so, not even caring that Scorpius followed him in. His male clothing was all tidied away, and anything incriminating was in the small office space in the next room over. There was just a lounge area and a bed in the immediate vicinity.
They both ended up on the couch, with Scorpius reclined on it sideways and Albus’s smaller female form fitted into his side. He hadn’t been held like that since he was really little, and it was oddly comforting. The feeling that he didn’t have to worry about anything overrode the objections in the back of his mind.
It didn’t take long before Scorpius’s arms wrapped slowly around Albus’s waist, purposely brushing the underside of ‘her’ breasts in the process. That did nothing for his nerves, and neither did the feel of hot breath on the curve of his neck. When that breath was replaced by soft, worshipping lips, any prior peace of mind was completely gone. In one quick motion, Scorpius rolled onto his back, and Albus found himself lying on top. He knew what it meant. They could either keep going or they could stop right there.
He was torn. On one hand, Albus was a guy. A straight guy. He didn’t have sex with other men. But on the other, this body, this borrowed form, was on fire. It wanted Scorpius, no matter what Albus thought. Plus, this wasn’t just any other man; this man loved and adored the person he thought that Albus was, and it was a heady feeling.
This was it. Albus had every right and opportunity to say no, and Scorpius would respect that decision, but something deep inside of him didn’t want to refuse. All he had to do was surrender to it, just let it happen, and no one ever needed to know. Scorpius would do his best to be sweet and attentive, and that idea alone was appealing. It would be a completely different experience, but was that really such a bad thing?
But he had promised Ernie that he would respect his niece’s body.
Scorpius would pay homage to it.
It had been a while.
To hell with Ernie.
With a guttural groan, Albus made the first move by running his hands under Scorpius’s shirt, letting his nails gently drag against the warm flesh. Grunting in approval, Scorpius firmly gripped Albus’s buttocks, pulling him so close that their faces were less than an inch apart.
“Are you sure?”
The fire deep inside his belly was all the answer Albus needed. “Yes.” It wasn’t about what he wanted anymore. It was all about this pulsating need that throbbed in his blood like war drums. Each beat came closer and faster as he threw caution to the wind and stepped brazenly toward that razor’s edge that separated pleasure from madness. It made him want it.
Somehow, they managed to stumble over to the bed, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake. Hungry lips met in search of that elusive closeness, that last millimetre of space that separated them ever present. Hands sought their sweet education in soft curves and smooth plains.
His mouth departing for an exploratory journey, Scorpius left a trail of feather-soft kisses down Albus’s jaw, paying close attention to the sensitive skin of his neck. Stars exploded behind Albus’s eyes as the pure delight shivered through him. He could vaguely hear his own cries of desire, and they somehow managed to fuel his own passions
And then it was all cranked up a notch when lips closed around the aching crest of a hitherto ignored breast. Albus had never known that such a simple, unassuming part of his anatomy could bring such stimulation until he had felt the roughness of Scorpius’s tongue lightly flick over it.
Albus had no words at all for what happened next. As Scorpius’s lips moved even further down, he could feel a heaviness in his lower abdomen. The closer that marauding mouth came to its intended destination, the more a burning expectation pooled. This was insanity. This was torture. This was -
“Oh, shit,” Albus hissed as the tip of Scorpius’s tongue grazed the moist folds between his legs. As this ardent invader teased and taunted its prey, molten ecstasy raged into every corner of Albus’s consciousness. He could feel his voice rasping out some sort of sound, but he couldn’t hear it. Everything was going blank to the point where he wasn’t even sure where ‘up’ was anymore.
The edge was oh-so-incredibly near, as was the tenuous grasp that Albus had on reality. He needed release so badly that he could taste it. He was willing to beg, to plead - anything - in order to get it. The words that had been meant to appeal for amnesty came out in something more resembling a mangled sob. No one was meant to handle this. This delirious rapture was so intense that it was almost painful. It hurt so much that it felt like he could die from it.
When Scorpius raised his head and the torture stopped, the humming of his body didn’t halt along with it. As Albus still murmured incoherently, that mouth was on his, coaxing and encouraging. He could taste his own flavour on those lips, spicy and intimate, as they restored him and gave him back some of the breath that had been stolen moments before.
Drawing back, Scorpius said so sweetly, “I love you.”
Albus stared up at those smouldering grey eyes in wonder. This experience hadn’t been borne of some base need or raw attraction; it was a testament to something that he had never truly understood until that very moment - love. Only something that pure could take feral, animalistic desire and turn it into liquid emotion strong enough and deep enough to drown them both.
“I love you,” Albus admitted to himself and to Scorpius out loud. And it was true. How the hell they had got there, he had no idea, but Albus loved Scorpius truly and profoundly. This man who had taken him out to lunch for upsetting a barrel of gurdyroot, who had so meaningfully distanced himself from the Knights and didn’t give a damn what anyone thought about it, who cared enough to be angry over an innocent dance with a lecher, had somehow come to mean everything to him. “I love you,” he repeated, the new and wondrous phrase too perfect to say only once.
Scorpius kissed him again, and Albus felt pressure between his thighs as his lover slowly pushed himself in. The deeper he went, the closer they came to dissolving that hair’s breadth of space between their souls. He couldn’t stand the idea of that distance. Resolutely, Albus wrapped his legs around Scorpius and pulled him in sharply, plunging into depths that he had never dreamt possible.
Hooking one leg with his elbow, Scorpius pulled out almost completely, making his re-entry all the more stimulating. Albus could only gasp and moan as his senses were assaulted with a constant torrent of euphoria over and over again, pushing toward that edge once more in a natural rhythm that seemed to be tailored just for them.
Sweat was beading all over Scorpius’s body. Albus knew he was about to finish and desperately wanted that last moment to be the best of them all. He pulled that face - that familiar, adoring face - down to his own and tried to convey what his mind and body were too immersed in insanity to say.
With one last thrust, they tumbled together off that never-ending precipice and collapsed together, breathless, sated, and still joined. Neither of them spoke, because they were still connected in spirit; each knew how the other felt, and it was glorious.
It didn’t take long for Albus to realise that Scorpius was asleep, but that was okay. He had worked so hard to give the person he loved his absolute best, so Albus was content to lay there, the pleasant weight on his chest as sleep encroached upon his consciousness, as well. Just before he succumbed to it, he had the wherewithal to swallow the spare Polyjuice pill from his bracelet receptacle. The time would come when he would tell Scorpius everything, but this moment was far too perfect to mar with such heavy things.
Albus awoke a few hours later, still immersed in a cloud of bliss. Scorpius was still asleep but had rolled over to the other side of the bed. Still naked, he felt a chill in the air that bit at his exposed skin, since they had fallen asleep on top of the covers. He had no desire to put that damned dress back on, and it would have been inadvisable to wear his own pyjamas, as they were men’s clothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he happened to spot Scorpius’s dress robes on the floor. That would do nicely.
As Albus pulled the garment around him, he inhaled deeply, catching Scorpius’s unique scent, which was a twist of citrus and something a bit earthier. The fragrance enveloped his senses, flinging him back to just hours before when he had given in to the inevitability of falling for someone like Scorpius. With a contented sigh, he padded into the loo.
When he turned on the light, he saw his face in the mirror. There were streaks of kohl smeared on his cheeks, and his hair was nearly a rat’s nest, but that didn’t matter. All he could see was the softer jaw line and the finer eyebrows and the brown eyes. None of these were his. These weren’t Albus. Albus loved Scorpius, not this female form he assumed because he had to, but Scorpius didn’t love Albus. He loved Melinda - or at least who he thought Melinda was.
That face, though, was all Albus was to the person he loved. He hated that face now, because it meant that he had to continue deceiving Scorpius. The rest of them could go to hell - he didn’t care what they thought - but how was he supposed to keep lying to someone who has never been less than honest with him? He would have been disgusted with anyone else for doing so, and if Albus was anything, he was pretty sure he wasn’t a hypocrite.
He still had a job to do. No matter how much he wanted to go into the other room at that very second and tell Scorpius everything, Albus knew he didn’t have that option. But what he did have now was extra motivation to crack this damned case so he could finally be honest with the man he loved.
The man he loved. It still sounded odd to Albus. He had never in his wildest dreams thought that he would be sexually attracted to another man, let alone be head over heels for one. And up to that moment, he never had been, but it was almost as if he had fallen for Scorpius, who just happened to be a bloke. At first, he had written off the attraction as a side effect of his feminine chemistry and instincts, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about Scorpius while he was himself. It had only taken a while to realise it.
Albus angrily scrubbed off the residual make-up. It was yet another deception to the world, and it made him feel filthy. After his skin had been scrubbed nearly raw, he walked slowly back to the bed. Scorpius was sprawled out on his belly, his pale flesh glowing in the residual light from the bathroom. He was so very much at peace and had no idea that he was being made a mockery by the ‘woman’ he loved so very much. And he would continue to remain ignorant, because there was no other way around it.
Sullenly, he climbed back into bed, turning his back to Scorpius. He couldn’t stand to look at him - not after everything that had happened. All he could do was take another Polyjuice pill, curl up into the borrowed robe, and fight the annoying urge to cry himself to sleep because he could still smell the leavenings of their lovemaking and had the nerve to want more of it.
After nearly an hour of lip-biting and pathetic sniffles in the dark, Albus was finally able to sleep again, but he got no rest from it. All he could see in his mind was Scorpius treasuring this fake person’s body, this woman who didn’t exist outside of visage. Every caress, every kiss, every stroke played out for his express torture. He could feel his own voice, calling out in the throes of passion, but all he could hear was Melinda, stealing those murmurs of adoration.
The feel of a hand tracing the curve of his hip brought Albus out of his steamy dream state. Looking over his shoulder, he could see Scorpius, whose hair was practically alight in the sunshine pouring through the window, giving him a sort of halo. That didn’t help Albus’s rampant guilt at all; if anything, it just made his state of mind that much worse.
“Hi, beautiful,” Scorpius said softly, his hand sliding down to caress the side of ‘her’ breast.
Even through the fabric that was swaddled around him, Albus felt his body vibrate with the contact. He struggled to remain composed. “Hey,” he said lamely, unable to say anything more.
Before he knew it, Albus found himself pulled into a straddling position on top of Scorpius, his scant covering falling around his waist. There was a devilish gleam in Scorpius’s eye, which meant that he was in the mood for an encore of the previous night’s activities. The most compelling of evidence was brushing against his bare bottom.
“Care for breakfast, love?” He was obviously not referring to food.
Albus knew he should have begged off on principle, considering the fact that the closer they got, the more it would hurt them both when fate was to play itself out, but he was too weak. His principles had already been irreparably damaged by one night of lovemaking. No matter how bad of an idea it was, he was perfectly willing to exacerbate the matter.
The decision was made final when Albus bent down to take lips hostage as he impaled himself upon Scorpius’s arousal. With a harsh gasp, their mouths separated, and Albus smiled smugly at the look he received. Slowly, in order to draw out the experience, Albus rocked his hips back and forward, ignoring his own frenetic need to quicken the pace. Scorpius was mumbling incoherently beneath him, completely enslaved and half-mad with desire.
Resolve crumbled quickly as Scorpius’s hands clenched on his rear, fingernails digging into the soft skin. It should have hurt, but it only managed to fuel Albus’s ardour. His mind nearly clouded over, that calm, deliberate stroking graduated into an almost hammering motion, ripe with urgency. Both of them had graduated from soft groans to rasping screams of exquisite pleasure-pain.
This time went far more quickly, but Albus wasn’t sure if he could have lived through such intense sensation. This was far more primal than the sweet, careful coupling that they had shared the night before, yet no less precious or satisfying. Scorpius was splayed out, chest heaving, trying to catch that elusive breath of recovery, not even able to keep his eyes open.
The idea of even moving seemed like too much to ask. Albus wanted to sit there and never leave. Even with the unfamiliar nature of being on the other side of the sexual coin, he knew that he would never experience sex this good with anyone else. Even their quick morning shag eclipsed every other encounter he’d ever had in its sheer level of satisfaction afterward.
But that satisfaction didn’t last long as Albus realised that no matter how much he wished that it would never end, all he was doing was making it that much harder down the line. It was the only thing that got him to slide off the bed in search of a fresh change of clothes, which Scorpius, after much procrastination, did as well.
As Albus dug through the trunk that held all of his female clothing, he could hear Scorpius humming an unrecognisable tune. He found himself drumming his fingers to the beat, which kept him from noticing right away that the initial sound had abruptly stopped. Curious, he turned to see what was up, and what he saw made his heart stop.
It was a pair of pants, but they weren’t Melinda’s pants. They were his regular men’s shorts, and they were currently dangling rather accusingly from Scorpius’s hand. “Whose are these?”
Shit. All Albus could do was stare at the simplest and meanest of garments, for it was the downfall of countless weeks of hard work. His only two options were to either tell Scorpius everything or say nothing. There was no way Albus could lie his way out of his boyfriend finding another man’s boxers in his room. And telling him the truth wasn’t even an option, really. The only thing left to do was to stand there, clutching a bundle of clothing to his chest as if it would protect him from what he knew was coming.
“Nothing to say, Melinda?” There was ice in Scorpius’s voice. Every hint at the loving joviality from not fifteen minutes before had evaporated.
“No,” Albus said quietly, feeling positively ill. There was no defence, and his averted eyes would confirm that.
Looking at the pants in disgust, Scorpius flung them onto the floor. “So this is why you didn’t want to… What did I do wrong? What did I do to make you want to go fuck some other bloke while you sat there laughing and pretended to care about me? What did I do?”
Scorpius was shouting, but Albus deserved it. He deserved every indignant word that poured from that mouth that had whispered such sweet things hours before. No, he hadn’t done what he was being accused of, but his sin was far worse. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “For everything.”
Jabbing his finger in Albus’s direction, Scorpius hissed, “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have done it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging in frustration. “I just don’t understand. Why would you even bother if-“ Scorpius paused, and his face had a look of revelation. “You are sleeping with my dad, aren’t you?”
“No!” Albus said vehemently. “Just… no! He’s shagging one of the serving girls from the party, I think.” Now he wished that he had been able to find out who was in that room with Draco on Christmas Eve. Now that he had caught some of his composure, Albus decided to try a different tactic. “Listen, I know this looks bad, and you have every right to be angry and not trust me. But please, if you really do love me, hear me out.”
Though he looked doubtful, Scorpius gave a slight nod. Albus at least had the opportunity to keep the entire thing from blowing up in his face. “There is a very good reason why those are there, but I can’t tell you what that is right now. I’m definitely not having sex with him, but I also can’t tell you who ‘he’ is. I know it sounds weird, but it’s as much of the truth as I can give you.”
“Ha!” Scorpius said with a sneer. “You are un-fucking-believable, you know that? All you’ve done since I’ve met you is push me away, but like a complete idiot, I keep coming back for more, insisting that you’re just quirky or shy. That’s my fault for assuming you were who I wanted you to be, but I’m not that stupid, sweetheart.”
“Stop it!” Albus cried. “Just stop it!” He was beyond maintaining any sort of ruse. All that he could think about was keeping Scorpius in the room, even if he had to endure the pure bitterness that was coming his way.
If possible, Scorpius became even more livid. “You stop it! You’ve lied to me enough, and I’m sick of it. No matter what I did, it just wasn’t good enough for Princess-fucking-Melinda, was it? Am I not pure-blooded enough for you? Is it because I’m not a Knight of bloody Walpurgis, planning to overthrow the Ministry and take over?”
“It’s not you! I- “ Albus stopped when he realised what Scorpius had just said about the Knights. “What did you mean by that?”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Oh, so now I’m interesting enough for you. Fantastic.”
Shaking his head, Albus said, “No, what you said about the Knights. It’s really important.” His relationship may have just imploded, but if he could at least get Scorpius to say what he knew, then it would not be a complete disaster.
“They’re always on about it, and…wait, why the hell am I discussing this with you?” He almost stabbed his limbs into his clothing, essentially closing off any chance for further conversation. Stalking toward the door, Scorpius didn’t look in Albus’s direction at all until his hand touched the knob. It was as if something had occurred to him. “You know, I think the worst part of all is that last night, you looked me in the eye and said that you loved me. You must be an exceedingly good liar.”
Everything else up to that point, Albus had felt he deserved. The one thing he couldn’t stand was Scorpius saying that he lied about that. “I do love you! How could I lie to you about that?”
“How can you lie about being a virgin?” He finally looked back at Albus, but it was more akin to a glare. “How did you pull that one off? Even your pussy is a fucking liar!”
Desperate for these to not be the last words they ever said to one another, Albus pleaded, “You don’t understand. I’m-“
The near confession was truncated with one last barb. “Shut it! Just shut it! I’m sick of your games.” Scorpius yanked the door open and slammed it behind him, emphasising the finality of his departure. The sound resonated in Albus’s brain like a hammer striking an anvil. It was over. Not only his investigation, but also, whatever tremulous bond that he had formed with Scorpius, the only human being that he’d ever truly cared about outside of family, had been irreparably wounded. His heart physically hurt; his stomach was roiling dangerously, and he barely made it to the toilet in time to spill its contents in retch after shuddering retch. How could he not, when his life was essentially over? If he didn’t finish the investigation - and it looked like that was now impossible - then he’d probably lose his job. After all this, he seriously doubted his ability to love someone romantically ever again. What did he have left?
Victory Day celebrations were hollow ones for the former followers of the Dark Lord, but they were necessary. That day hadn’t brought very many of them good tidings, but to not observe one of only three major holidays was simply not done. So, each year on the anniversary of Harry Potter’s defeat of Voldemort, the pure-blooded brass would come out en masse to pretend that they had always been on the right side.
That day had arrived. This time, it was the Bletchley family’s turn to hold the big party. Just like their peers, they spared no expense, not thinking twice about the obscene level of extravagance. All in all, it was just like every year before, Scorpius had said.
So there they stood, Albus in his feminine disguise and dressed to kill, and Scorpius equally decked out, bored out of their minds as they wished to be anywhere else on the planet than there. Every one of these get-togethers were the same: dancing, music, indulgent food, and trying to look wealthier than the person next to you. If he hadn’t needed to be there, Albus would have begged to leave.
Desperate for something to do, Scorpius had volunteered to fetch drinks for the night, to which Albus agreed. That gave him time to eavesdrop unnoticed, and if one thing was certain, it was that Scorpius knew when he didn’t hold ‘her’ complete attention. On one such drink run, though, Albus’s already strange relationship with Richard Greengrass was vaulted into a whole new level of weird.
Greengrass sat down in the seat that Scorpius had just vacated, drumming his fingers on the table. He said nothing for a while; instead, he simply scanned the throng of people over and over again as if looking for one particular person. Finally, he said, “Have you ever chatted with my daughter, Daphne?”
Shaking his head, Albus said, “No, sir, I haven’t. I’ve seen her a few times, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” And where the hell had that come from?
“No matter,” he said. “I just thought you should meet her husband, Patrick. There are few with purer bloodlines than the Hornbys, so they’re definitely worth getting to know.”
Albus still had no idea why Greengrass thought that it mattered one whit to him, but that was neither here nor there. Since the man was in his eighties, perhaps he was simply going senile and everyone had the good grace to look the other way. That made far more sense than meeting some random bloke just because his blood was slightly purer and definitely more inbred than most of the rest of them in the room.
And just like that, Greengrass left. Before Albus could process what had just transpired, Scorpius came back with two very large glasses of punch. As per ‘her’ request, one was free of any alcohol, but Scorpius had no such willpower. These things were simply too damnably dull to go through it sober, he had said. As much as Albus had wanted to get sloshed, as well, he needed his wits about him.
To pass the time, they would alternate between dancing and sitting on the perimeter of the room, gossiping about who was seeing whom and who was jealous of that fact. Only sheer boredom could have made that half as amusing as it was, but it was something to do.
Much to Albus’s annoyance, no one was asking him to dance. That had always been the easiest way to scout out information, but now he was relegated to Scorpius’s visits to the bar for any reconnaissance. And then there was that bizarre conversation - if one could call it that - with Greengrass. There had to be something to it, but he could hardly just ask the man.
Patrick Hornby, eh? Peeling himself out of his seat, Albus was simply too curious to let it be. Not too far away, he spotted Scorpius’s Aunt Daphne, and he was fairly certain that the man she was talking - well, more like arguing - with was her husband. He put on his best ‘I’m completely lost’ expression and wandered by the squabbling couple. It was hard to maintain, though, considering what they were arguing about.
“I’m not going to say it again, Patrick. We are not taking a serving girl home with us. I’m pretty sure it won’t ruin the rest of your life if you don’t have a threesome before you die.”
Catching sight of Albus, Daphne blushed. “Melinda, dear, are you looking for Scorpius?”
“Well, sort of. It’s just that…” Albus paused for dramatic effect, hoping that these two were either stupid or drunk enough to buy what he was going to say. “I want to dance, but no one will ask me because I’m with him. I was hoping that if I moved around, someone would pluck up the nerve.”
Daphne seemed sympathetic, and she glared meaningfully at her husband. Hornby knew that he was already in trouble and likely knew what was good for him, which coincidentally was doing whatever his wife told him. “Miss, er, Melinda, would you care to dance?”
That had been far too easy. It was almost funny how simple it had become for Albus to use his ‘feminine wiles’ to get what he wanted. As Hornby took him out onto the dance floor, it struck him how accustomed he now was to being Melinda and not himself. At some point, the lines had blurred to the point where he was just as much Albus as he was her.
After a few minutes, Hornby asked, “So, you, er, heard what my wife and I -“
“Yes.”
“I don’t suppose you would want to -“
“No.”
If the mere suggestion hadn’t been so damned funny, Albus would have knocked the man silly. It did bring up a new question, though, and it was why the hell Greengrass had thought Melinda would want anything to do with this old pervert. If he didn’t like his grandson’s choice in girlfriends, perhaps he could be less enigmatic and just ruddy well say so.
So they finished their dance in silence, but Albus couldn’t let the opportunity pass to find out why he was supposed to be interested in Hornby. “So, Mr Greengrass said that your family is one of the purest of the pure-bloods. I admire your dedication, especially in times like these.”
“You’re telling me!” he said sharply. “Damned Mudbloods are everywhere. They’re even letting them run the bloody country!”
Now that was an interesting turn. Get the man to stop thinking with his pud and he was actually useful. “Quite so. My father wouldn’t have liked that. It’s no wonder he stayed abroad until he died.”
“Good man he was, then. It’s nice to see some of you kids keeping to sensible ideals. Unlike that boyfriend of yours.”
Albus shrugged. “Well, I can hardly condemn him because of that. He more than makes up for it.”
That unsavoury look returned to Hornby’s eyes - the one that meant his mind had wandered back to filthy territory. “Young stud like that? I’ll bet.”
Pretending shock and embarrassment, Albus said, “No, not like that! I meant that he’s nice. My mum would have liked him. He’s a nice, well-bred man that comes from an influential family. Nobody’s perfect, but he comes close.” He wanted to steer the conversation far from his sex life and back toward blood status. Hornby was a prime candidate to be a Knight, and if he didn’t get any information that night, at least adding a suspect would be somewhat of an accomplishment.
“Well, you seem to be of a proper mind, so I might as well tell you that it won’t be long before decent people like you and me don’t have to keep our thoughts and beliefs behind closed doors.”
Finally! “Oh,” Albus said, trying not to sound nearly as excited as he really was.
“Let’s just say that out with the new and in with the old will definitely change the balance of power.”
The subject seemed to be closed, but it was definitely an enlightening conversation. Of course, he would have to reflect upon it later, because Albus spotted Scorpius coming toward them. Stopping, he said, “I believe I’ve been missed, so if you’ll excuse me.”
Scorpius nodded at Hornby. “Uncle Patrick.” He all but snatched Albus away. “Nice to see you.”
From his tone of voice, Albus was sure that Scorpius was not at all pleased to see Hornby. It might have had something to do with him being a dirty old man, but nevertheless, his interaction with Hornby was officially over. “We were just having a quick spin.” Turning on his best charm, he added sweetly to Hornby, “And it was lovely to meet you.”
With a bow, Hornby said, “Likewise, my dear. Have a good night.”
As Albus was practically dragged away, Scorpius was obviously gritting his teeth in anger. He could barely keep up with the murderous pace with his much shorter legs.
“Oi!” Albus finally said, jerking his arm free. He was tired of being hauled around. Putting his fists on his hips like his mum did when she was angry, he hissed, “I can walk fine on my own, thank you. And what in the name of Merlin’s most baggy y-fronts was that about, anyway?”
“He’s a sleaze, Melinda! You’re lucky he didn’t throw you over his shoulder and shag you in the nearest empty room!”
Albus was completely incensed. It wasn’t because his work had been interrupted; he was angry that Scorpius was treating him like a stupid little girl. “Ha! That’s bloody likely. And who the hell are you to tell me who I can or can’t talk to?”
Instead of being contrite, Scorpius only seemed to become more aggravated. “I’m only trying to look out for you! You don’t know these people like I do, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I can take care of myself. Fucking hell, I’m not a little girl!” Albus could practically see red, and he couldn’t keep up his persona. The lines were dangerously blurred between who Melinda was supposed to be and the righteously angry Albus. “You have no right to order me around!” Very aware of how public their argument was becoming, he spun on his heel and stomped out of the ballroom, much like the angry little girl that he had just professed not to be.
He’d had enough. He was leaving as fast as he could get past the reach of the Anti-Apparition wards. Scorpius was calling for him to come back from behind him, but Albus was far too pissed off at him to oblige. “Go to hell,” he shouted over his shoulder.
Just as he was about to reach the end of the grounds, Scorpius caught up to him. “Seriously, this is ridiculous! Why the hell are you being so…so mental?”
“Because I’m not yours to order around!” Albus practically shrieked. The sound was grating to his own ears, but he didn’t care. “If I want to dance with a fucking goblin, I will! You have no say in the matter.”
Scorpius raked his fingers through his hair. “So what I feel doesn’t matter? The fact that I love you more than anyone else on this whole damned planet doesn’t factor in at all? Do I really mean that little to you?”
That brought Albus pause. For months, he’d worried about hurting Scorpius unjustly, and that’s what he had just done. That had never been his intention, but there was no taking it back now. “I’m sorry,” he said softly before sitting on the ground and hugging his knees to his chest. “That all came out wrong.”
Disarmed by the sudden change in ‘her’ demeanour, Scorpius sat down next to Albus and put an arm around his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. I only did it because I was worried about you, not because I didn’t trust you.”
The sincerity in Scorpius’s voice made Albus want to throw up. He had just gone completely insane, and instead of being told he was out of order, the git had to go and apologise. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Scorpius asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Stop saying you’re sorry. I’m being a complete bitch, and you’re being far nicer to me than I deserve. You should be telling me to sod off.” At this juncture, Albus wasn’t even trying to be Melinda anymore. He was too distraught, and the fact that his eyes were starting to water just exacerbated that. As the tears started to spill, he roughly wiped them away. “Shit.”
Scorpius pulled Albus close to him and stroked his hair. “No, you were right; I was being a jealous prat. I couldn’t stand seeing his hands on you, and I overreacted. You just put me in my place is all.” Then he chuckled. “Where did you learn to swear like that? You’d make an Auror blush.”
His focus finally returning, Albus said, “Oh, just some things I picked up here and there. Nothing too sordid.” He was still not ready to look Scorpius in the eye, but there was one thing he did have to do. “I’m sorry. I was horrible.”
“Let’s just forget it, okay?” Scorpius kissed the top of ‘her’ head. “Why don’t we just call it a night?”
Albus allowed himself to be led all the way off the grounds, and Scorpius held him close as he Apparated them to the front steps of the hotel. Shooing off the footman, he let himself in and headed straight to the lifts. It would have been practical to work out some way of fending Scorpius off at the door, but he was just too tired of everything to bother. The entire thing made him sick, especially how it had made him act. He would have even gone so far as to say he hated himself for it.
The ride was completed in silence, and they traversed the hallway wordlessly, as well. As the door was charmed to open only to Albus’s hand, he absently did so, not even caring that Scorpius followed him in. His male clothing was all tidied away, and anything incriminating was in the small office space in the next room over. There was just a lounge area and a bed in the immediate vicinity.
They both ended up on the couch, with Scorpius reclined on it sideways and Albus’s smaller female form fitted into his side. He hadn’t been held like that since he was really little, and it was oddly comforting. The feeling that he didn’t have to worry about anything overrode the objections in the back of his mind.
It didn’t take long before Scorpius’s arms wrapped slowly around Albus’s waist, purposely brushing the underside of ‘her’ breasts in the process. That did nothing for his nerves, and neither did the feel of hot breath on the curve of his neck. When that breath was replaced by soft, worshipping lips, any prior peace of mind was completely gone. In one quick motion, Scorpius rolled onto his back, and Albus found himself lying on top. He knew what it meant. They could either keep going or they could stop right there.
He was torn. On one hand, Albus was a guy. A straight guy. He didn’t have sex with other men. But on the other, this body, this borrowed form, was on fire. It wanted Scorpius, no matter what Albus thought. Plus, this wasn’t just any other man; this man loved and adored the person he thought that Albus was, and it was a heady feeling.
This was it. Albus had every right and opportunity to say no, and Scorpius would respect that decision, but something deep inside of him didn’t want to refuse. All he had to do was surrender to it, just let it happen, and no one ever needed to know. Scorpius would do his best to be sweet and attentive, and that idea alone was appealing. It would be a completely different experience, but was that really such a bad thing?
But he had promised Ernie that he would respect his niece’s body.
Scorpius would pay homage to it.
It had been a while.
To hell with Ernie.
With a guttural groan, Albus made the first move by running his hands under Scorpius’s shirt, letting his nails gently drag against the warm flesh. Grunting in approval, Scorpius firmly gripped Albus’s buttocks, pulling him so close that their faces were less than an inch apart.
“Are you sure?”
The fire deep inside his belly was all the answer Albus needed. “Yes.” It wasn’t about what he wanted anymore. It was all about this pulsating need that throbbed in his blood like war drums. Each beat came closer and faster as he threw caution to the wind and stepped brazenly toward that razor’s edge that separated pleasure from madness. It made him want it.
Somehow, they managed to stumble over to the bed, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake. Hungry lips met in search of that elusive closeness, that last millimetre of space that separated them ever present. Hands sought their sweet education in soft curves and smooth plains.
His mouth departing for an exploratory journey, Scorpius left a trail of feather-soft kisses down Albus’s jaw, paying close attention to the sensitive skin of his neck. Stars exploded behind Albus’s eyes as the pure delight shivered through him. He could vaguely hear his own cries of desire, and they somehow managed to fuel his own passions
And then it was all cranked up a notch when lips closed around the aching crest of a hitherto ignored breast. Albus had never known that such a simple, unassuming part of his anatomy could bring such stimulation until he had felt the roughness of Scorpius’s tongue lightly flick over it.
Albus had no words at all for what happened next. As Scorpius’s lips moved even further down, he could feel a heaviness in his lower abdomen. The closer that marauding mouth came to its intended destination, the more a burning expectation pooled. This was insanity. This was torture. This was -
“Oh, shit,” Albus hissed as the tip of Scorpius’s tongue grazed the moist folds between his legs. As this ardent invader teased and taunted its prey, molten ecstasy raged into every corner of Albus’s consciousness. He could feel his voice rasping out some sort of sound, but he couldn’t hear it. Everything was going blank to the point where he wasn’t even sure where ‘up’ was anymore.
The edge was oh-so-incredibly near, as was the tenuous grasp that Albus had on reality. He needed release so badly that he could taste it. He was willing to beg, to plead - anything - in order to get it. The words that had been meant to appeal for amnesty came out in something more resembling a mangled sob. No one was meant to handle this. This delirious rapture was so intense that it was almost painful. It hurt so much that it felt like he could die from it.
When Scorpius raised his head and the torture stopped, the humming of his body didn’t halt along with it. As Albus still murmured incoherently, that mouth was on his, coaxing and encouraging. He could taste his own flavour on those lips, spicy and intimate, as they restored him and gave him back some of the breath that had been stolen moments before.
Drawing back, Scorpius said so sweetly, “I love you.”
Albus stared up at those smouldering grey eyes in wonder. This experience hadn’t been borne of some base need or raw attraction; it was a testament to something that he had never truly understood until that very moment - love. Only something that pure could take feral, animalistic desire and turn it into liquid emotion strong enough and deep enough to drown them both.
“I love you,” Albus admitted to himself and to Scorpius out loud. And it was true. How the hell they had got there, he had no idea, but Albus loved Scorpius truly and profoundly. This man who had taken him out to lunch for upsetting a barrel of gurdyroot, who had so meaningfully distanced himself from the Knights and didn’t give a damn what anyone thought about it, who cared enough to be angry over an innocent dance with a lecher, had somehow come to mean everything to him. “I love you,” he repeated, the new and wondrous phrase too perfect to say only once.
Scorpius kissed him again, and Albus felt pressure between his thighs as his lover slowly pushed himself in. The deeper he went, the closer they came to dissolving that hair’s breadth of space between their souls. He couldn’t stand the idea of that distance. Resolutely, Albus wrapped his legs around Scorpius and pulled him in sharply, plunging into depths that he had never dreamt possible.
Hooking one leg with his elbow, Scorpius pulled out almost completely, making his re-entry all the more stimulating. Albus could only gasp and moan as his senses were assaulted with a constant torrent of euphoria over and over again, pushing toward that edge once more in a natural rhythm that seemed to be tailored just for them.
Sweat was beading all over Scorpius’s body. Albus knew he was about to finish and desperately wanted that last moment to be the best of them all. He pulled that face - that familiar, adoring face - down to his own and tried to convey what his mind and body were too immersed in insanity to say.
With one last thrust, they tumbled together off that never-ending precipice and collapsed together, breathless, sated, and still joined. Neither of them spoke, because they were still connected in spirit; each knew how the other felt, and it was glorious.
It didn’t take long for Albus to realise that Scorpius was asleep, but that was okay. He had worked so hard to give the person he loved his absolute best, so Albus was content to lay there, the pleasant weight on his chest as sleep encroached upon his consciousness, as well. Just before he succumbed to it, he had the wherewithal to swallow the spare Polyjuice pill from his bracelet receptacle. The time would come when he would tell Scorpius everything, but this moment was far too perfect to mar with such heavy things.
Albus awoke a few hours later, still immersed in a cloud of bliss. Scorpius was still asleep but had rolled over to the other side of the bed. Still naked, he felt a chill in the air that bit at his exposed skin, since they had fallen asleep on top of the covers. He had no desire to put that damned dress back on, and it would have been inadvisable to wear his own pyjamas, as they were men’s clothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he happened to spot Scorpius’s dress robes on the floor. That would do nicely.
As Albus pulled the garment around him, he inhaled deeply, catching Scorpius’s unique scent, which was a twist of citrus and something a bit earthier. The fragrance enveloped his senses, flinging him back to just hours before when he had given in to the inevitability of falling for someone like Scorpius. With a contented sigh, he padded into the loo.
When he turned on the light, he saw his face in the mirror. There were streaks of kohl smeared on his cheeks, and his hair was nearly a rat’s nest, but that didn’t matter. All he could see was the softer jaw line and the finer eyebrows and the brown eyes. None of these were his. These weren’t Albus. Albus loved Scorpius, not this female form he assumed because he had to, but Scorpius didn’t love Albus. He loved Melinda - or at least who he thought Melinda was.
That face, though, was all Albus was to the person he loved. He hated that face now, because it meant that he had to continue deceiving Scorpius. The rest of them could go to hell - he didn’t care what they thought - but how was he supposed to keep lying to someone who has never been less than honest with him? He would have been disgusted with anyone else for doing so, and if Albus was anything, he was pretty sure he wasn’t a hypocrite.
He still had a job to do. No matter how much he wanted to go into the other room at that very second and tell Scorpius everything, Albus knew he didn’t have that option. But what he did have now was extra motivation to crack this damned case so he could finally be honest with the man he loved.
The man he loved. It still sounded odd to Albus. He had never in his wildest dreams thought that he would be sexually attracted to another man, let alone be head over heels for one. And up to that moment, he never had been, but it was almost as if he had fallen for Scorpius, who just happened to be a bloke. At first, he had written off the attraction as a side effect of his feminine chemistry and instincts, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about Scorpius while he was himself. It had only taken a while to realise it.
Albus angrily scrubbed off the residual make-up. It was yet another deception to the world, and it made him feel filthy. After his skin had been scrubbed nearly raw, he walked slowly back to the bed. Scorpius was sprawled out on his belly, his pale flesh glowing in the residual light from the bathroom. He was so very much at peace and had no idea that he was being made a mockery by the ‘woman’ he loved so very much. And he would continue to remain ignorant, because there was no other way around it.
Sullenly, he climbed back into bed, turning his back to Scorpius. He couldn’t stand to look at him - not after everything that had happened. All he could do was take another Polyjuice pill, curl up into the borrowed robe, and fight the annoying urge to cry himself to sleep because he could still smell the leavenings of their lovemaking and had the nerve to want more of it.
After nearly an hour of lip-biting and pathetic sniffles in the dark, Albus was finally able to sleep again, but he got no rest from it. All he could see in his mind was Scorpius treasuring this fake person’s body, this woman who didn’t exist outside of visage. Every caress, every kiss, every stroke played out for his express torture. He could feel his own voice, calling out in the throes of passion, but all he could hear was Melinda, stealing those murmurs of adoration.
The feel of a hand tracing the curve of his hip brought Albus out of his steamy dream state. Looking over his shoulder, he could see Scorpius, whose hair was practically alight in the sunshine pouring through the window, giving him a sort of halo. That didn’t help Albus’s rampant guilt at all; if anything, it just made his state of mind that much worse.
“Hi, beautiful,” Scorpius said softly, his hand sliding down to caress the side of ‘her’ breast.
Even through the fabric that was swaddled around him, Albus felt his body vibrate with the contact. He struggled to remain composed. “Hey,” he said lamely, unable to say anything more.
Before he knew it, Albus found himself pulled into a straddling position on top of Scorpius, his scant covering falling around his waist. There was a devilish gleam in Scorpius’s eye, which meant that he was in the mood for an encore of the previous night’s activities. The most compelling of evidence was brushing against his bare bottom.
“Care for breakfast, love?” He was obviously not referring to food.
Albus knew he should have begged off on principle, considering the fact that the closer they got, the more it would hurt them both when fate was to play itself out, but he was too weak. His principles had already been irreparably damaged by one night of lovemaking. No matter how bad of an idea it was, he was perfectly willing to exacerbate the matter.
The decision was made final when Albus bent down to take lips hostage as he impaled himself upon Scorpius’s arousal. With a harsh gasp, their mouths separated, and Albus smiled smugly at the look he received. Slowly, in order to draw out the experience, Albus rocked his hips back and forward, ignoring his own frenetic need to quicken the pace. Scorpius was mumbling incoherently beneath him, completely enslaved and half-mad with desire.
Resolve crumbled quickly as Scorpius’s hands clenched on his rear, fingernails digging into the soft skin. It should have hurt, but it only managed to fuel Albus’s ardour. His mind nearly clouded over, that calm, deliberate stroking graduated into an almost hammering motion, ripe with urgency. Both of them had graduated from soft groans to rasping screams of exquisite pleasure-pain.
This time went far more quickly, but Albus wasn’t sure if he could have lived through such intense sensation. This was far more primal than the sweet, careful coupling that they had shared the night before, yet no less precious or satisfying. Scorpius was splayed out, chest heaving, trying to catch that elusive breath of recovery, not even able to keep his eyes open.
The idea of even moving seemed like too much to ask. Albus wanted to sit there and never leave. Even with the unfamiliar nature of being on the other side of the sexual coin, he knew that he would never experience sex this good with anyone else. Even their quick morning shag eclipsed every other encounter he’d ever had in its sheer level of satisfaction afterward.
But that satisfaction didn’t last long as Albus realised that no matter how much he wished that it would never end, all he was doing was making it that much harder down the line. It was the only thing that got him to slide off the bed in search of a fresh change of clothes, which Scorpius, after much procrastination, did as well.
As Albus dug through the trunk that held all of his female clothing, he could hear Scorpius humming an unrecognisable tune. He found himself drumming his fingers to the beat, which kept him from noticing right away that the initial sound had abruptly stopped. Curious, he turned to see what was up, and what he saw made his heart stop.
It was a pair of pants, but they weren’t Melinda’s pants. They were his regular men’s shorts, and they were currently dangling rather accusingly from Scorpius’s hand. “Whose are these?”
Shit. All Albus could do was stare at the simplest and meanest of garments, for it was the downfall of countless weeks of hard work. His only two options were to either tell Scorpius everything or say nothing. There was no way Albus could lie his way out of his boyfriend finding another man’s boxers in his room. And telling him the truth wasn’t even an option, really. The only thing left to do was to stand there, clutching a bundle of clothing to his chest as if it would protect him from what he knew was coming.
“Nothing to say, Melinda?” There was ice in Scorpius’s voice. Every hint at the loving joviality from not fifteen minutes before had evaporated.
“No,” Albus said quietly, feeling positively ill. There was no defence, and his averted eyes would confirm that.
Looking at the pants in disgust, Scorpius flung them onto the floor. “So this is why you didn’t want to… What did I do wrong? What did I do to make you want to go fuck some other bloke while you sat there laughing and pretended to care about me? What did I do?”
Scorpius was shouting, but Albus deserved it. He deserved every indignant word that poured from that mouth that had whispered such sweet things hours before. No, he hadn’t done what he was being accused of, but his sin was far worse. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “For everything.”
Jabbing his finger in Albus’s direction, Scorpius hissed, “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have done it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging in frustration. “I just don’t understand. Why would you even bother if-“ Scorpius paused, and his face had a look of revelation. “You are sleeping with my dad, aren’t you?”
“No!” Albus said vehemently. “Just… no! He’s shagging one of the serving girls from the party, I think.” Now he wished that he had been able to find out who was in that room with Draco on Christmas Eve. Now that he had caught some of his composure, Albus decided to try a different tactic. “Listen, I know this looks bad, and you have every right to be angry and not trust me. But please, if you really do love me, hear me out.”
Though he looked doubtful, Scorpius gave a slight nod. Albus at least had the opportunity to keep the entire thing from blowing up in his face. “There is a very good reason why those are there, but I can’t tell you what that is right now. I’m definitely not having sex with him, but I also can’t tell you who ‘he’ is. I know it sounds weird, but it’s as much of the truth as I can give you.”
“Ha!” Scorpius said with a sneer. “You are un-fucking-believable, you know that? All you’ve done since I’ve met you is push me away, but like a complete idiot, I keep coming back for more, insisting that you’re just quirky or shy. That’s my fault for assuming you were who I wanted you to be, but I’m not that stupid, sweetheart.”
“Stop it!” Albus cried. “Just stop it!” He was beyond maintaining any sort of ruse. All that he could think about was keeping Scorpius in the room, even if he had to endure the pure bitterness that was coming his way.
If possible, Scorpius became even more livid. “You stop it! You’ve lied to me enough, and I’m sick of it. No matter what I did, it just wasn’t good enough for Princess-fucking-Melinda, was it? Am I not pure-blooded enough for you? Is it because I’m not a Knight of bloody Walpurgis, planning to overthrow the Ministry and take over?”
“It’s not you! I- “ Albus stopped when he realised what Scorpius had just said about the Knights. “What did you mean by that?”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Oh, so now I’m interesting enough for you. Fantastic.”
Shaking his head, Albus said, “No, what you said about the Knights. It’s really important.” His relationship may have just imploded, but if he could at least get Scorpius to say what he knew, then it would not be a complete disaster.
“They’re always on about it, and…wait, why the hell am I discussing this with you?” He almost stabbed his limbs into his clothing, essentially closing off any chance for further conversation. Stalking toward the door, Scorpius didn’t look in Albus’s direction at all until his hand touched the knob. It was as if something had occurred to him. “You know, I think the worst part of all is that last night, you looked me in the eye and said that you loved me. You must be an exceedingly good liar.”
Everything else up to that point, Albus had felt he deserved. The one thing he couldn’t stand was Scorpius saying that he lied about that. “I do love you! How could I lie to you about that?”
“How can you lie about being a virgin?” He finally looked back at Albus, but it was more akin to a glare. “How did you pull that one off? Even your pussy is a fucking liar!”
Desperate for these to not be the last words they ever said to one another, Albus pleaded, “You don’t understand. I’m-“
The near confession was truncated with one last barb. “Shut it! Just shut it! I’m sick of your games.” Scorpius yanked the door open and slammed it behind him, emphasising the finality of his departure. The sound resonated in Albus’s brain like a hammer striking an anvil. It was over. Not only his investigation, but also, whatever tremulous bond that he had formed with Scorpius, the only human being that he’d ever truly cared about outside of family, had been irreparably wounded. His heart physically hurt; his stomach was roiling dangerously, and he barely made it to the toilet in time to spill its contents in retch after shuddering retch. How could he not, when his life was essentially over? If he didn’t finish the investigation - and it looked like that was now impossible - then he’d probably lose his job. After all this, he seriously doubted his ability to love someone romantically ever again. What did he have left?