Gift for dysonrules
Author: tuawahine
Recipient: dysonrules
Title: Stealth & Tracking
Pairing: Albus/Scorpius
Summary: During an Auror training course, Scorpius realises that maybe he wants to be more than friends with Al Potter.
Rating: R
Warnings: slash (Scorpius wouldn't call it sex, exactly, but Al says he's wrong)
Word Count: 10,830
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Hugs and flowers to they-know-who for beta-reading, and for being incredibly encouraging!
Dear dysonrules, I chose the prompts will o’ wisp and cucumber shampoo (it was too good not to use, especially with the request for hair washing!), and a couple of other items from your wishlist also made it into the story. I hope you enjoy!
Day 1
Scorpius hated Al Potter.
Especially his careless attitude towards other people's dignity.
His glare should have communicated the feeling clearly, but his fellow Auror trainee just gave him an evil grin, and a challenging nod at the shot glass he had just placed before him.
"Bottoms up, Malfoy!"
Did he have to sound so gleeful? Scorpius braced himself, brought the glass to his lips, tilted his head back and knocked down the contents, only to explode into a violent coughing fit. Merlin, that stuff was vile!
To be fair, it had been Scorpius' own fault. He could have refused when Al bet him a drink that he was right about the textbook definition of correct Kelpie-taming. Or at least specified who would be having the drink.
But Scorpius didn't much feel like being fair. Al knew perfectly well that he hated being made a fool of in public, and that he didn't drink hard liquor. But as usual, because it was a laugh to Al it must be to everyone else, too.
Luckily, once the initial laughter had died down, nobody made further remarks about his obvious unfamiliarity with Dragonfire-gin.
"Too strong for your refined taste buds, Malfoy?"
Except for Jonathan Price, of course. The Malfoy name had been a red flag to his Muggle-born sensibilities from day one, and by now, Scorpius had learned to let the constant jibes roll off him like water off a duck.
Having resumed his seat next to Scorpius, Al nudged his shoulder. "Hey, lighten up, Malfoy. That look on your face always makes me worry you're going to demand wands at dawn."
Scorpius refused to be appeased by the banter.
"You know perfectly well I don't drink hard liquor, and you still showed me up for the entertainment value. I hope it was a good laugh."
His voice was bitter, but low, not wanting any of the other trainees to know how angry he was over something they probably just considered a joke between friends.
Al's teasing grin vanished. He stared hard at Scorpius for a few seconds, then shook his head in disbelief.
"Merlin, Scorpius, it was just a bit of fun. Most people react to a shot of Dragonfire, and just because it's funny doesn't mean you were shown up. Nobody but you even thinks that. Besides, if you can still worry this much, you definitely need more alcohol. So how's this for a peace offering: I'll get us two pints, you will solemnly swear to have fun tonight, and tomorrow you can kick my arse in training."
Scorpius looked after him as he made his way through the crowded pub, amused despite himself.
Al just didn't get that it was not as easy for him to 'let go' as it was for the son of famous Harry Potter. People heard Al's name, and he was forgiven almost anything. That he was cheerful, outgoing, and possessed this mysterious skill of getting along with virtually everybody also helped. He didn't have to worry about what people might think or what his family might say if he acted out, or caused spectacles, or violated the rules of socially acceptable behaviour. Which wasn't his fault, and Scorpius didn't begrudge him his luck, but if he could just stop acting as if Scorpius were this uptight wallflower that only needed loosening up - which included alcohol, apparently - being friends with him would be much easier.
With a whiff of stale ale and tobacco a distraction in the form of an old man, local judging by the dress - and staunch supporter of the Firewhisky industry judging by the nose - drew up a chair and joined the round of young people like a solicitous host finally finding time for his guests.
"So, never seen you around here, lads. And ladies." The last with a nod at Rocket and Tricia Hall. "What are you up to, then?"
As usual, Harry Dawlish took it upon himself to speak for the group.
"We are Aurors in training, sir. Here for a two week training course in Stealth and Tracking on the moor."
"Is that right? Well, you sure can do a lot of that sort on our moor, eh?" An amused cackle, followed by a wheezing cough.
Scorpius inwardly rolled his eyes and pretended to listen politely, glad to see Al winding his way back through the crowd, two pints of ale in his hands and grinning at him.
Truthfully, he suspected that at first Al's interest in him might have been of a more ... physical nature. Aurors, and Auror trainees, were a gossipy lot, and Scorpius had been aware even before that first invitation for a pint at the Leaky Cauldron that Al Potter, as the saying went, 'played for both teams'. He hadn't been too bothered by it. In fact, he had taken it as a compliment of sorts, that a man as popular and good-looking as Al might have found him, quietly ambitious Scorpius Malfoy, interesting enough to actually approach. Girls had never shown much interest in him - nor he in them, to tell the truth - and it had been surprisingly flattering that somebody might think him attractive. Luckily, Al had taken it in stride when Scorpius had tactfully indicated that he liked him well enough, just not, well, that way.
With Al resuming his seat, his attention was drawn back to their self-proclaimed local welcoming committee.
"Just take care with your tracking, lads. Easy to track the wrong things out there. Can get you into trouble, it can." He leant closer, until Scorpius could smell the Firewhisky fumes on his breath, and whispered conspiratorially, "Take care when the Will o' the Wisp is about."
Out of the corner of his eyes Scorpius checked the reactions of the others to what sounded like the prelude to the local ghost story. Al and Tom Kellen were listening with a well-studied pretence of wide-eyed interest. Tricia, Dawlish and Price were less successfully faking polite attention of the 'we are serious Aurors, we do not make fun of people' kind, and Dick Frinton and Rocket were taking great care to not meet anybody's eyes, hiding suspiciously behind their drinks.
"Flickering lights over the moor, yes. Can lead you badly astray, they can." He gave a wet hiccup and levelled a glassy stare at Rocket, who looked close to choking. "But I know the secret, I do. You want me to tell you?" Dramatic pause. "Ah, good lads like you, I reckon I should, hey? First, what you need is a bit o' courage. See, you have to follow them. Into the mist, into the moor, yes. Not for the faint-hearted, that. And then comes the trick. It's not everybody I tell that to, no. You have to take off your robe, see, and put it back on inside out. So that it's confused, right?"
Scorpius was feeling a bit confused himself by now. What in Merlin's name was the old wizard on about?
"And because it's confused, it will forget that it meant to lure you into the bog, you see. And that is when you have to be all nice and proper and very respectful and all that. And then -" his voice dropped dramatically, "then it leads you to its treasure. 'Cause you see, that is what they are. Guardians of treasure, yes. Treasure beyond imagination. But first, you got to follow them, and confuse 'em, and all that. Not a lot as manage that. Hah! You have what it takes, lads?" He sized them up through bleary eyes. "Aurors, was it? Shouldn't be a problem then, just you remember, lads, follow 'em, robes inside out, treat 'em well, and -" he thumped the table with his flat hand hard enough to rattle the tankards, "- treasure beyond imagination." And with a last toothy grin, he staggered off towards the bar.
"What the blazes was that about?" asked Kellen in a bewildered voice.
Al gave an amused laugh. "Flickering lights over the moor? Whatever he called them, I'd say he was talking about Hinkypunks. Sounds like some local superstition. I just hope no one is stupid enough to listen to that tosh. You follow a Hinkypunk, the only thing you get is stuck in a bog, or drowned and probably eaten. Never heard them called what he said, though."
Price sat up eagerly. "Will o' the Wisp! I've read that in Muggle books, it's their name for Hinkypunks. They are not as ignorant about wizarding matters as you'd think, you know." He gave Scorpius a glance as he said it, clearly daring him to comment.
Al snorted. "If local wisdom really holds that you confuse a Hinkypunk by turning your robes inside out, there seem to be plenty of wizards ignorant about wizarding matters."
Day 2
Scorpius peered into the fog that hung over the moor, trying to make out anything. He was supposed to track down his exercise partner - Al, as chance would have it - before he could reach one of two predetermined arrival points. Given the abysmal conditions of visibility, he was relying strongly on locator spells and even actual tracking of footprints. He had been following what he thought were recently made tracks, but he was reaching more rocky territory, and they were becoming nearly impossible to make out.
A faint light bobbed up and down through the fog not too far away, the third he had seen today. The first time, his immediate thought was that Al had been careless enough to cast Lumos, but then he had remembered the old man last night talking about Hinkypunks.
The fading tracks were leading straight towards the unsteady light, and he cursed. Hinkypunk lights indicated marshy ground, and Al, self-proclaimed expert on all things creature-related, would know that. So the tracks couldn't be his, and Scorpius had wasted an hour following a false trail.
And by the time he had backtracked and found a new trail to follow, Al would have won the exercise.
* * *
Two hours later he felt very foolish when Al demonstrated to everyone else's great amusement how he could adapt his Lumos to flicker with the unsteadiness of a lantern light and hold his wand tip at knee height to imitate a Hinkypunk. If it hadn't been for the fog, Al would have passed him in plain sight!
* * *
It was probably Scorpius' lasting embarrassment that kept him from running the other way when the already traditional night out in the local pub degenerated into a spin-the-wand game of Truth or Dare.
He had thought the game childish and ridiculous in his school days, and was unlikely to ever change that assessment. But he had enjoyed being part of the group last night, and he didn't want to be seen as a spoil sport, and just maybe Al had a point when he'd said to not always take everything so seriously.
Still, when the hovering, spinning wand slowed, Scorpius prayed that it would pass him, once more. He really did not fancy anything Dick Frinton might ask him or make him do.
To his relief, it quivered to a halt pointing at Al instead.
Dick gave an evil cackle and rubbed his hands in anticipatory glee.
"Truth or Dare, Potter?"
Al gave a careless wave. "Truth. And try not to be too shallow, Frinton."
Dick made a show of thinking it over, and then -
"If you fell into the deep end of the Hogwarts lake and had to be rescued and your rescuer had to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, would you rather be rescued by Professor Patil or by Professor Longbottom?"
Laughs and groans greeted this, and even Scorpius couldn't help a startled laugh at the sheer silliness of the question.
Al chuckled knowingly. "In other words, the hottest male professor or the hottest female professor. Well, if you insist -"
Scorpius found that he was on the edge of his seat, and quickly sat back and adopted a more relaxed, uncaring pose. He had never actually heard Al himself own up to his ... preferences. But still, not like it was a big deal, right?
Al let his gaze travel around the table slowly, as if judging the likely reactions to whatever answer he planned to give, making Scorpius unaccountably nervous.
"That would without a doubt be Professor Longbottom." He was looking straight at Scorpius now. "I much prefer blondes."
The moment ended, and amidst a few remaining titters Al spun the wand once more.
It was charmed to stop randomly, so Scorpius knew it had to be coincidence, but he could have sworn Al looked triumphant when the wand singled him out for the first time in the game.
Given Al's rather broad definition of fun, he felt a little uneasy about this turn of events, but still gave a firm "Truth!" in answer to Al's questioningly raised eyebrow. If necessary, he could always lie.
Obviously, Al, too, had been infected by the current silliness, because, damn him, he chose to ask, "First girl you wanted to ask out?"
Thankfully, Scorpius had no scruples about bending or reinventing the truth, and some experience at it in that particular area. "Tanya Gibbons, third year," he replied with just enough hesitation to be credible.
A chorus of chuckles confirmed that enough of them remembered the unanimously voted 'hottest babe of Hogwarts' that his answer would not be questioned. Only Al gave him a look that suggested he knew him rather too well. Mercifully, he didn't say anything.
Relieved, Scorpius ended up asking Rocket how she had got her nickname. To no one's surprise it was short for 'Pocket Rocket', hailed from her days as a tournament duellist, and had been shortened to 'Rocket' since. He might have come up with something better if he hadn't been trying to work out which professor he would have chosen if he were really honest with himself.
That unsettling line of thought was put on hold when the wand again swivelled round to point at Al.
"Give me a rest, people! Right, enough confessions for today." He squared his shoulders as if bracing himself. "Hit me with your best, lady. I say Dare!"
Rocket scrutinised him for a few seconds, before her face lit up in a mischievous grin.
"Al Potter, I dare you to kiss the prettiest set of lips at this table."
A few not entirely sober giggles followed that pronouncement. Scorpius hastily shut his mouth. Merlin, he hadn't had that much to drink, had he? Surely there was no reason to be nervous just because he was going to watch Al kiss someone, possibly a male someone?
One second later, he re-evaluated that thought as Al's searching gaze zeroed in on him. Merlin, no way!
Al pushed his chair back, got up and walked around the table with predatory slowness. Surely he wouldn't?
On second thought, this was Al Potter. Of course he would!
Al stopped behind him, one hand on the back of his chair, gave a fake bow and murmured in a passably seductive voice, "If I may, Mr Malfoy?"
Scorpius felt as if a Fizzing Whizzbee was loose in his stomach. Scratch that, definitely more than one. Oh, how ridiculous! This was just Al playing to the crowd in a stupid game. It wasn't like he meant anything by it, was it?
Determined not to chicken out, he gave his best attempt at a love-struck, longing gaze and turned his face to Al's in clear challenge.
Only to be struck speechless by the sheer closeness of his face, the jet-black mop of hair, the green eyes. He couldn't recall them having been this startlingly green before.
A lock of black hair fell across his face, tickling his cheek, then two rough hands gently took hold of his face, tilting it up just so. And then Al's lips were on his, a feathery soft caress that sent an unexpected jolt through his entire body.
He must have gasped, or something, because despite the cheers of "Tongue! Tongue!" he could hear faintly through the buzzing noise filling his head Al slowly drew back, dropped his hands and gave him a long, searching look before returning to his seat.
The rest of the game happened without Scorpius noticing much of it. Lucky chance reduced him to a passive participant, anyway, and nobody else seemed to pay him much attention. Except for Al, who kept shooting him furtive glances and appeared to be deep in thought as well.
Day 3
The reprieve lasted until early the next evening.
Scorpius had just returned from the showers, and was busy cleaning his mud-caked boots before heading off to the pub with the others. Al, who had been back much earlier, had already had his customary hot bath and was leaning against the door frame, idly watching his friend work.
"So, Tanya Gibbons, eh?"
Caught unprepared, Scorpius felt himself blushing. He bent closer over the dirty shoes in an attempt to hide it, and feigned nonchalance.
"Surprised?"
"That you'd come up with a convincing lie instead of revealing your innermost secrets to a horde of tipsy Auror trainees? Not especially, no."
Scorpius glared at him, but Al was unimpressed.
"Your fingers twitch when you make something up. If it had been the truth, you'd have been embarrassed. And embarrassed is clenched hands, not twitching."
Dismayed by how transparent he obviously was, Scorpius immediately shot back, "Lying: your eyes go all wide and innocent and stop blinking; embarrassed: you shuffle your feet."
Al gave a delighted laugh.
"So you watch me as closely as I watch you. I'm flattered."
Shrugging, Scorpius turned his attention back to his footwear. But Al was not to be distracted.
"Seriously, though, if you have to make up stuff for that kind of question, you're either a hermit in training or not nearly as straight as I thought."
Scorpius shifted uncomfortably on his suddenly much too hard chair. Al was his friend, and moreover the only not-straight friend he knew - or knew about - and he didn't want to brush him off, but he wasn't sure he was ready to talk about this, either. The thought of discussing it, even with Al, was mortifying. Then again, it was also sort of ... tempting.
"Relax, mate. You're not on trial here. I was just wondering, is all."
"I don't really know. I mean, I haven't, well, I've mostly been busy with other things, you know? School, and grades, and training and things, and I guess I just never met the right one, you know? The right girl, I mean. Or woman. And just because I never asked anyone out doesn't mean I'm ... well, does it?"
Aware that he was babbling, Scorpius flushed even worse, one hand clenched tightly around his wand, the other around the gathered shoelaces, and hurried on before Al could make fun of him.
"Well, so maybe it does, but it's just ... well, I have thought about it, you know. And I don't think I am, because, no offence, Al, but it's just weird. I mean, I can look at a guy and see that he's good-looking, or maybe even ... well, but I don't want to do ... things. So I don't think I am, really."
"Things." Al repeated with a deadpan expression. "What kind of 'things'?"
Abruptly, Scorpius stood up. "You know what , thanks for your concern, but I don't think I want to have this conversation. I mean, it's completely beside the point, anyway."
"It is exactly the point if you are making yourself unhappy because you refuse to see what is right before your eyes." Al was looking more serious than Scorpius could ever remember seeing him. "Scorpius, there is nothing wrong with liking men. Or wanting to do 'things' with them. So long as you like it, and no one gets hurt, there's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"I'm not embarrassed. And of course there's nothing wrong with it! I mean, you are ... What I mean is ... Merlin's Fire! What I mean is, it's not an option for me anyway, so what is the point dissecting it to death?"
Al cocked his head quizzically at this. "I'd say the point is to get you past your irrational inhibitions and enjoy yourself with some hot piece of ass, or in other words, to get some scorching hot sex into your life."
Scorpius felt his whole body flush at the blunt language, but refused to look away.
"But I take it you'd disagree. Scorpius, why the hell do you say it is not an option?" There was genuine concern in Al's voice now.
Scorpius sighed. "I am an only child, Al. One day, I will inherit a considerable fortune and a family tree that reaches back to before the Founders. And that comes with certain obligations. It may not mean much to you, but it does to my family, and it does to me. I will not disappoint them."
There was a loud silence during which Scorpius wondered if it had been a mistake bringing up his family. Most people didn't react well to it, and easy as it was to forget it most days, this was still Harry Potter's son he was talking to.
However, when Al finally did find his voice, it wasn't to say anything about the questionable Malfoy family honour.
"So let me get this straight. You are likely to live for, let's say, a hundred to a hundred and fifty years, roughly the next eighty of which you will be capable of fathering as many kids as you please. On top of which, adoption is a perfectly acceptable means of securing an heir. But it's not an option for you to ogle hot men in the here and now." He raked a hand through his still damp hair. "Merlin's balls, Scorpius, I wasn't asking if you planned to be bound and married to a man for life. I'm just trying to find out if maybe I'm not the only one in this room who thinks a firm ass and a six-pack are at least as hot as tits and curves."
* * *
Picking through the remains of his steak and ale pie an hour later, Scorpius was barely aware of the conversation around him, and very pointedly not aware of Al's frequent concerned glances. Dimly, he registered the old man from their first day telling his 'Will o' the Wisp' story to a pair of adolescent boys who were hanging on his every word with an awe that made Tricia call them something rather unflattering, but mostly he was trying to make sense of the whirlwind roaring through his brain.
If he was very honest with himself, he knew that it had never been girls. Knew that the first crush of his life had been on the (decidedly male) Gryffindor Quidditch captain, back in his third year. Knew that watching the better-looking men in the training course, like Al or Tom Kellen, duelling or working out in the practise yard got him hard, while watching Tricia or Rocket had never affected him in the least. Knew even that deep down the problem was not children or family, but his desire to fit in, to not be the odd one out. Well, that and a good deal of anxiety about ... 'things'.
But surely that didn't mean he was -
He couldn't be -
On the other hand, Al had a point. There was no pressure on him to start a family this instant. He was free to experiment for a good while yet. And nobody thought Al was odd for liking men. Would it really be so horrible if he turned out to be a little bit ... gay?
Day 6
The sun was almost setting - not that it was visible through the steady drizzle - when Al and Scorpius returned, splattered with mud, wet and cold, but in an exceedingly good mood, from another day on the moor.
They had tracked their target down in an exemplary show of teamwork - Al had kept his head through a concerted attempt of at least five Hinkypunks to get them off the safe paths, and Scorpius had performed the combination of spells that had broken through Dick's Disillusionment Charm - and were very pleased with themselves.
After the obligatory debriefing, they headed straight for the bathrooms, Scorpius to the shower stalls, Al to the sole bathtub available in the requisitioned bed & breakfast.
On the way back from a long hot shower, Scorpius almost collided with the freshly bathed Al, getting a whiff of clean wet hair, a brush of hot, still damp skin, and a close look at a fit body wrapped in nothing more than a towel round the hips.
In an attempt to cover his confusion, and distract himself from looking at the dark line of hair trailing down Al's stomach and disappearing below the towel, he shook his head in mock reproach.
"You know, showers are good enough for most of us."
"Ah, you don't know what you're missing. Day like this, nothing beats a hot bath. Besides," - this added with a teasing grin - "I wouldn't want anyone to think I was ogling their goods."
"Shame, really," Scorpius quipped, before his brain caught up with his tongue. Now where had that come from?
Never one to miss an opening, Al sidled up to him and fluttered his eyelashes. "Feel free to join me anytime, loverboy."
Scorpius stared, speechless, at his retreating back and the exaggerated swagger that emphasised his broad shoulders and firm ass.
With a jolt, he realised two things. One, he had just admired Al Potter's ass. And two, he was rock hard. The 'loverboy' had worked on his cock with the impact of a well-placed Stinging Hex, except that it didn't fade, or sting. Even worse, just before he could regain control of his senses, he had an absurd image of himself and Al in a giant steaming tub full of water, naked bodies gliding around each other like playing seals.
He groaned. He was so hard that walking actually hurt.
* * *
Barely three minutes later, Scorpius put his head against the wall of the toilet cubicle and closed his eyes in quiet desperation. No way was he attracted to Al Potter! He just couldn't be! Except that he very obviously was. Witness the last five minutes. Well, fuck!
There were far too many reasons why this was a bad idea. For starters, Al was his best friend, something he really did not want to risk or lose. And even if Al liked men in general, Scorpius was intelligent enough to recognise that that did not automatically mean he would want every man, or him in particular. Why would he? Al probably had a history of conquests, given the ease with which he talked about 'things'. So what would he want with someone as inexperienced and uncertain as Scorpius? Sweet Merlin, he could barely think the word 'gay'! Al would probably be kind enough not to laugh in his face, and that would be the best he could hope for.
Well, he was certainly not going to make a fool of himself by letting Al know how desperately he wanted another light, feathery, sweet, fizzing kiss. Or see that deep look in his green eyes that took his breath away. Or tousle that wild black head of hair. Or just brush against him accidentally on purpose, or get a friendly clap on the shoulder.
No, he had been fine before, he would be fine now, and he was not going to lose his friend, or his dignity, over this immature crush.
He'd just quietly enjoy any chance to be around Al, and take care to wear loose robes, until it wore off!
Day 8
Two days later they both had a day off, during which they were supposed to analyse their performance so far and receive individual training sessions. Finding themselves with some spare time after lunch, they had also decided to teach Scorpius how to pretend to be a Hinkypunk.
Running at a crouch to hold the wand tip at the right height, Scorpius was concentrating so hard on making his Lumos flicker with Hinkypunk-like faintness that he never saw the rabbit-hole. All he knew was that one moment he had been trying to produce an irregular flicker, and the next he was flat on his face, his breath knocked out of him. Reflexively, he checked for his wand, relieved to see it lying, undamaged, a foot away.
Red-faced at his clumsiness, he jumped up, grabbed his wand and gave it another try, this time paying more attention to the ground.
He thought he had finally gotten the hang of it, and turned around for Al's confirmation.
Instead, the brat was laughing at him. And laughed even harder at his indignation over it.
"We'll make a Hinkypunk out of you yet, Malfoy. But in the meantime," Al walked up to him, "those cockleburs in your hair really don't suit you."
Scorpius reached up and came away with one of the prickly things in his hand. "Well, don't stand there laughing, get them out," he grumbled. He probably looked ridiculous, and he didn't want to look ridiculous in front of Al. Tripping like some moron had been bad enough.
He only realised his mistake when Al stepped up close enough for his breath to hit the back of his neck in warm wet clouds of air. The last time he had been that close to Al had been that wonderful kiss. And thinking about that was a worse mistake. The fingers working through his tangled hair were doing strange things to his body, making not just his scalp tingle, but his entire body, right to the soles of his feet.
And there was that scent again, Al's scent. He recognised it from the night with the towel-incident, fresh and mild, not flowery-sweet, but putting him in mind of summer days and refreshing dips into clear cold water and hot sun on wet skin.
Eyes closed, breathing deeply, Scorpius tried to feel the moment as much as possible, revelling in the chance to be close to Al, even be touched by Al, and not having to hide his expression.
"There, all gone now. Looking as good as ever."
The whisper in his ear made him, and other parts of his body, jump. Suddenly, Scorpius feared that if he turned and even so much as looked at Al, he would come where he stood.
He forced a casual tone into his voice.
"Thanks. I guess we should get back for the briefing, then."
And without turning, or waiting for Al to follow him, he briskly went off towards the village as fast as he could without actually running.
Day 9
Things didn't get much better after that. Luckily, the physical demands of the training course provided a welcome outlet for the tension Scorpius now felt almost constantly.
So when some of their group started an impromptu duelling session, he joined in with rare zeal.
He had just beat Al after a good fight, but apparently the other man had excessive energy to vent, too, and before long the duel had turned into a friendly brawl, wands abandoned.
Scorpius didn't know quite how it happened, maybe Al stepped back too hastily, but he slipped on the muddy ground, lost his balance and fell, mud splattering all around him. He tried to get up, but slipped right back down. And when Scorpius offered a hand to pull him up, true to form, Al pulled hard in return.
He landed awkwardly half on top of Al, who was laughing with abandon, like a boy who had successfully executed a brilliant prank. But Scorpius barely noticed. Al's body felt warm and firm and very alive under him, his tangled black curls were tickling his nose and face, and there was that faint smell again, tempered now with mud and rain and sweat.
He took a deep slow breath, inhaling the moment, oblivious to his growing erection pressed flush against Al's hipbone. If only he could stay like this a little longer. If only this could last forever.
Abruptly, he came to his senses. He was lying in a puddle of mud, water and dirt were slowly seeping into his robes, and if he hadn't been so fixated on hair, he would probably have been humping Al by now. Sweet Merlin, what must Al be thinking!
Hastily he scrambled up, slipping and sliding in the mud, not caring that it got him even dirtier. He couldn't look at Al as he gave him a hand up, quickly mumbled something about showers and beat as fast a retreat as he dared without losing even more face.
The back entrance to their lodgings was almost in reach when Al caught up with him.
"Scorpius, wait!"
When Scorpius ignored him, Al grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, eyes blazing.
"What the hell was that?"
Scorpius' insides clenched, and there didn't seem to be enough air. Al had noticed something was wrong. And now he was forcing him into precisely the sort of confrontation he had been bound and determined to avoid.
"Sorry," he mumbled, unable to look at Al. "Won't happen again." And please, he prayed, just let me go.
Al drew his fingers through his hair, oblivious to the muddy streak they left.
"What won't happen again?" There was a quality of sharpness and anger in his voice that seemed out of place. "Look, there is only so much I can take, and I have just about had it with your constant back and forth, so let's settle this once and for all. Do you or don't you fancy me?"
Faced with another example of Al's characteristic bluntness, Scorpius gaped, his mind blank. What to say? Admitting it would make him sound pathetic. But Al could usually tell when he was reinventing the truth. He compromised by going on the defensive instead.
"What kind of a question is that? Just because you have a better track record than some doesn't mean everybody wants you, you know."
Al looked as if he'd been slapped, but he recovered quickly. His abrupt laugh was almost derisive.
"It won't work, Scorpius. You're not going to out-logic me on this, or get out of answering the question. I know what I know, and you have been reacting to me ever since I kissed you in that stupid, brilliant game. Your body reacts to me, whether you like it or not. But as per bloody usual, you choose to ignore it. Do you know, for a moment there I really thought you might be leading me on on purpose. But you're not a cock-tease, are you? You're just uptight to the point of constipation! Do you really think you can go on forever pretending you don't want to shag men? I have news for you, Scorpius Malfoy: Judging by the way it stood to attention back there, your cock disagrees!"
Too angry to even be embarrassed, Scorpius let the tension of the past days explode at last.
"Shut up! I tried, all right? I tried to not make it a problem, but you weren't exactly helping with your 'loverboy' this and 'kissable' that. I can't help what my subconscious wants, but I will not let it ruin our friendship, so shut up already! "
Al seemed taken aback for a moment, then a grin, of all things, spread over his face, as if Christmas had come early.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me! You didn't want to ruin our friendship? I don't know if you noticed, but that first time I asked you out, I was, in fact, asking you out. And when you gave me that pretty little speech about how you didn't happen to have time for girls right now, with very polite emphasis on girls, I backed off, deciding friendship was a good second-best, but it was still just a consolation prize. And now you melt under a kiss that barely deserves the name, forget to breathe when I touch you, and get a raging hard-on from smelling my hair. And you seriously have the gall to blame your inconvenient subconscious? Scorpius, you're either so deep in denial you're practically drowning in it, or you are a lot more innocent than I gave you credit for."
Hearing exactly the kind of condescending tone he had been afraid of, Scorpius saw red.
"Just because I don't throw myself at everybody who comes along doesn't make me an innocent. And denial has nothing to do with it, I just know better than to blindly follow every sudden whim I have. Life is not that simple!"
"Oh yes, Scorpius, sometimes it is exactly that simple. You want something, you go for it. Just because it feels like a good idea at the time, no more reasons needed. Like I went and kissed you, because my gut instinct told me maybe I should test the waters once more. Merlin's balls, Scorpius, this is not an Auror case. I'm the first person to appreciate your amazing ability to analyse and think things through to the last crucial detail, but this is about feeling, not thinking. Sometimes, logic isn't enough, sometimes you just need to trust your instincts, you know? Go with them and see where it takes you. Me, it made me chat you up and start this friendship, and it made me go after you now to have this out. If I'd stopped to think it over a million times before deciding, you'd still be the quiet shy one who is afraid of talking to people, and I would have missed out on knowing you."
Patronising bastard! Scorpius' blood was boiling now.
"Fuck you, Potter! Just because you have more friends than I do does not give you the right to lecture me. And just because I get hard just thinking about you does not mean I have to do anything about it. Save your pity for someone who wants it!"
The itch to go for his wand and let fly some really good hexes was getting stronger by the second, and -
"Hey, there you are. Haven't you heard yet?"
Rocket's voice seemed to belong to another universe. Scorpius' hand automatically fell away from his wand pocket, and he saw Al mirroring the movement. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard her explaining in a rush that a Search & Rescue call had gone out. Apparently a boy from the village had never returned from what should have been a brief jaunt on the moor, and now their instructor had volunteered his Auror trainees for searching the immediate vicinity for clues.
Their argument forgotten in the face of more serious problems, Al and Scorpius spent the rest of the evening with the other trainees combing through the increasing darkness, though both made sure to not team up with each other.
By the time they could all confidently say that they had found absolutely nothing in their assigned areas, it was pitch-black and spirits were down. No one felt much like going down to the pub, and they said their good-night's quickly.
The silver lining was that Scorpius could put off facing the potential end of his friendship with Al until next morning.
That night, he had a confused dream about Al standing in front of a class-room telling him he would never get his N.E.W.T. in 'Truth or Dare' if he didn't learn to kiss properly, while a Howler shouted at him that he was a disgrace to the Malfoy name, and didn't he know better than to hold hands in public with an Auror trainee wearing only a towel!
Day 10
The next morning, Scorpius stood studying the assignment sheet for the day - they would now be pitted against each other in groups, and as bad luck would have it, 'Potter' and 'Malfoy' were listed in the same group for today - when someone hesitantly moved up beside him.
"Morning, Scorpius."
With satisfaction, he noted the uncertain voice and the nervous scuffing of boots, and pointedly took a sip of his tea, eyes fixed on the notice-board.
More scuffing, noisy clearing of a throat, and, "All right, I get that you're still angry. I just wanted to say, I'm sorry about the stuff I said last night, all right? Well, not everything, but, I guess you know which parts. And also, in case I didn't make that clear enough, I do fancy you."
Scorpius shot him an involuntary glance. He wished Al would go away. He was not remotely ready for this.
But Al wasn't done. "A lot, really. And I think you fancy me too. But, well, like you said, that's for you to decide, not me, so -" Al took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for a blow, "- if you decide that friendship is the most we'll have, then friendship it is. I won't push you any more. Wizard promise! But if you do happen to change your mind -" He hesitated again, and Scorpius realised with vague surprise that for once Al Potter was less than sure of himself. "- well, I guess you know where to find me. Any time, any place. I mean it."
Scorpius barely breathed, eyes fixed on the wall, and finally, Al left.
Only when the group of four gathered outside for the day's exercise and Al gave him a tentative, almost hopeful look did one particular detail of last night's shouting match resurface. Had he actually said out loud that thinking about Al made him hard? What in the seven circles of hell had he been thinking? His cheeks burning, he quickly looked away.
* * *
They were supposed to make their way to an old abandoned hut and have a 'secret' conversation, which another team of trainees would attempt to spy on and report back with without being caught, while their job would be to catch the 'spies', either in the act of eavesdropping or on the way back to base. On the few occasions where Scorpius had to talk to Al, he took pains to be professional about it, and Al mercifully returned the courtesy.
It was an accidental brush of Al's shoulder against his during lunch break that brought another startling recollection. Al had called kissing him 'testing the waters'. So it hadn't been a game to him, after all! He truly meant it when he said he fancied him.
Scorpius felt a headache coming on. If only it were as easy as 'I like him, he likes me'. But Al had made it clear last night that he was not interested in anything serious, that all he cared about was jumping into things without thinking, having fun, and presumably jumping out again as soon as his 'gut instinct' told him to. And really, Scorpius just couldn't afford that sort of carelessness.
* * *
It looked as if their group would be the winners of the day. They had caught one of their 'spies' and were in hot pursuit of the other when a standard scan for traces of magic gave Scorpius a hit in a completely different direction. The missing boy still being on all their minds, he notified his team mates and veered off without hesitation to investigate.
It took him the better part of an hour struggling through increasingly swampy territory and repeatedly losing the trace of magic and finding it again, but at last he found the source. It was a wand, stuck in the brambles of a low shrub.
If that was the missing boy's wand - and it certainly fit the description they had all been given - then they were now dealing with a wizard lost in the moor without his wand, in other words, pretty much helpless. Scorpius frowned. How did that wand come to be here in the first place? Any sensible person would know better than to wade right into a bog, no matter how lost they were. The quagmire was knee-deep where he was standing, it just didn't make any sense.
With the first faint flickering light blinking into existence at the edge of his vision, it suddenly made frighteningly much sense. He had a vague memory of a couple of young boys hanging on that old man's words at the pub, and a clearer one of thinking the missing boy's friend looked familiar. Bloody fools! That sort of people didn't need Aurors, they needed a nanny!
There were at least four lights dancing around him now in a pattern designed for confusion, and he decided this was not a good time to think about what had likely happened not so long ago to a wandless young wizard whose only crime was stupidity. And then realised that while he still had his wand, and consequently was able to find out where North was, he was less certain where he had come from. His footprints had disappeared, filled with water and mud, and where had all this fog come from so quickly?
And he was not going to panic!
He was an Auror, for Merlin's sake!
Later he would swear that of course he would have thought of some handy spell and gotten himself out on his own, but he was still ridiculously glad to see a fifth light join the dancing circle, only this one was steady, strong, unmoving, and at human height. Securing the abandoned wand in his robes, he made his way towards the light, until it was only his ankles sinking into the ground, and then not even that.
And then there stood Al, only dimming his Lumos when Scorpius was right before him.
The others soon joined them, and listened grimly to Scorpius' conclusions.
"If he's lost in the bog, those Search and Rescue people won't have anything to find or rescue. And even if he didn't drown or worse, there is only so long he can survive without a wand."
No one had anything to add to that.
Looking back at the spectacle of lights that was the Hinkypunk-infested marsh, Scorpius noticed Al looking, too, and then briefly looking at him, as if reassuring himself that he really was safely out of there.
And just like that, Scorpius found he was no longer angry at Al over last night. He had probably thought he was helping, and to be honest, they had both said things they shouldn't have.
He turned and held out a hand in peace offering.
"Thanks for that one, Potter."
Al looked surprised, grateful, and then a little sad, but he took the hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
"Any time, Malfoy." He gave a mock salute. "Will o' the Wisp beacon service. We give you any Lumos you need!"
Scorpius mimed hexing him, and then stopped himself at the last second from casually tousling Al's hair as he would usually have done. It was good to have things back to normal. Or at least be able to pretend.
Day 13
The traditional - and much anticipated - end to the Auror trainee Stealth and Tracking course was a two-day adaptation of 'Capture the Flag', for which trainees were divided into two groups that had to try and capture the opposing team members and find and secure their headquarters. It was part stealth and tracking, and part duelling, hence the popularity.
And Scorpius' team was winning. Unsurprisingly, as they had the best trackers, Frinton and Dawlish, and two of the best duellists, Tricia and Scorpius, who had managed to overcome a still-sulking Rocket in a truly spectacular, if slightly unfair, duel.
By the morning of the second day, they had captured Rocket and Kellen, and only lost Dawlish. More importantly, they were about to stage an attack on the enemy's headquarters, and were fairly confident theirs had not even been discovered yet.
The surprise came when they led captive number three, Price, to their 'prison'. He took one look at Kellen and Rocket, and asked, "Where's Potter?"
It turned out that Al had gone off in the morning on a reconnaissance mission, and not been seen since. Everyone had assumed he was with the others, and even though it would be just like him to stage a surprise one-man-attack, Scorpius worried. Al might be immune against Hinkypunks, but they were not the only thing that could happen to you in this marshy wilderness.
No surprise attack came, their team was declared winner, and only when they returned home did they learn what had actually happened from a member of the Search and Rescue team that had met Al this morning.
Apparently, he had come across some lead connected to the still-missing boy on his reconnaissance, followed it, and eventually wand-signalled for assistance, and when the reinforcements came, they had found him cradling the nearly starved and half-frozen boy in his arms. The village was hailing him as a hero, and at about this point in the story Price started complaining.
"So pretty-boy Potter thought he would abandon the game in favour of playing the hero. Never mind that the responsible people would have found the boy, anyway. Never mind that he lost us the game. Seems to me some people ought to check their priorities."
If he had thought about it for even a second, Scorpius would have remembered that he made it a strict policy to never rise to any of Jonathan Price's baits. But he didn't think. He didn't even remember moving, yet here he was, right in the arrogant twit's face.
"Oh yeah, Price? I say it's you who needs his priorities checked. We are Aurors, or at least we will be. It means we protect people. Al has his priorities perfectly straight, and if you really think playing hide-and-seek for marks is more important than saving a life, I hope you never make it into the Auror Corps!"
Price stared at him as if he had grown a second head, opened his mouth, closed it again, and at last allowed himself to be swept inside by Dawlish and Kellen.
Scorpius stood still, his outburst echoing inside him, the words vibrating.
Priorities. Al had his straight. He had said that he would not risk their friendship, but he had also called it a 'consolation prize'. He knew what he wanted, all right.
And his, Scorpius', own priorities?
What choices had he made, when it came right down to it?
The safety of friendship over the scariness of risking embarrassing himself before Al with his innocence and ignorance, before friends and family with being gay and different, which remained safely hypothetical now.
But also, the awkwardness of pretending things were what they used to be between Al and him, over the tingling burn when Al unexpectedly touched him, the sharp flare of shocked breathlessness when his brilliantly green eyes locked with his, the thrill of tousling his thick, soft hair, the burning desire to feel his wonderful lips on his again, the desire to rise to Al's challenge, to do the unthinkable and simply let go, to listen to those frightening feelings and act on them.
He wanted those thrills and flares, and suddenly, he couldn't stand the thought of giving them up, giving up on Al, never knowing what might have been. He wanted them, badly.
And he would show Al! Show him that he, Scorpius Malfoy, was not afraid of showing his feelings, of acting on instinct!
His eyes narrowed as plans began to form, delicious, exciting, scary plans, where he grabbed Al and kissed him and pushed him against a wall, and felt his firm living body under his, and kissed him harder, until he was too breathless to even say it deserved the name.
And he would do it right now! Before he lost his nerve and momentum, and the voice of reason caught up with him.
He walked up to the S&R person with determination.
"So where is Potter now?"
"In the tub. He's got a lot of bog to wash off." The man grinned. "Looked like a swamp monster when he brought the kid in."
But Scorpius was barely listening. His entire body had just voiced a definite opinion on Al-in-a-bathtub.
* * *
As expected, Al hadn't bothered to lock the door - no one else used the bathtub, anyway - and Scorpius quietly let himself in, thinking he might enjoy the view for a bit and then act out his plan once Al got out of the tub.
But all thoughts of rough kissing or shoving people against walls abruptly left him at the sight that greeted him.
Muddy robes and shoes were strewn on the floor between door and tub. The tub itself was full to the brim with steaming water and mountains and islands of green and blue bubbles. The unobtrusive, soothing scent of something herbal wafted through the damp heat, and then there was Al.
He lay in the tub, his back to the door, almost completely submerged, with glimpses of his muscled, well-proportioned body visible in between the bubbles. His head rested on a soggy towel folded on the rim of the tub, his eyes were closed and his features utterly relaxed. His sopping wet hair clung to his head like a tight cap and made him somehow look younger and strangely vulnerable, not a look Scorpius had ever seen on him before.
His heart skipped a beat at the emotions that welled up inside him. If Al was just after a fun-filled fling, he didn't think he could bear it. But giving this up without even having tried? That was even more unthinkable. The notion seemed like a foreign idea someone else had had a lifetime ago.
Spotting a bottle of shampoo next to the tub, a sudden tender idea grew, and for once Scorpius acted without examining it from all angles.
He non-verbally locked the door, put his wand next to Al's on its shelf, took off his already damp outer robes - absently confirming that Al really was asleep when he didn't so much as open his eyes at the small noises - grabbed the shampoo and a small stool, placed himself at the head of the tub, and finally, finally allowed his fingers to pet and stroke the shining black hair, sleek and wet as it was.
As he began pouring careful handfuls of warm sudsy water over the dark locks, Al finally stirred, eyelids fluttering open and sleepy green eyes blinking and slowly focusing on him upside down.
"Hey," Scorpius said in a low voice.
"What -"
Al tried to sit up and turn around, but Scorpius gently held him down, daringly placing a brief kiss on his wet forehead.
"Stay still. I'm listening to my gut instinct here, and if you distract me, I might lose track of what it's saying."
Al's eyes widened. For a moment, Scorpius thought he was going to say something, but then he simply closed his eyes and lay back again.
Touched by the gesture of trust, Scorpius unstopped the shampoo bottle, smelled the familiar scent and had to smile when he read the label. Cucumber Shampoo, no wonder he had not been able to place it. Pleased at knowing something so intimate about Al, he poured a bit of shampoo into his hands and began massaging it into the wet hair.
Al shivered quietly and sighed, a long, deep sigh of contentment that filled Scorpius with warmth and just a bit of pride.
He remembered his mother washing his hair when he was little, and how much he had loved it. What he had not been prepared for were the wonderful tingling things this tender act was doing to him, all the way from his scalp down his back to his toes.
With slow, circling motions his fingers learned the surface of the head under them, the little bumps and ridges, the spots that made Al shiver or sigh in particular contentment.
The whole experience felt surreal and far more intimate than he had anticipated, but also wonderful, just the two of them, connected by his fingers in Al's hair, wrapped in a serene bubble of steamy air, the faint herbal smell of the bubble-bath and the mild, fresh perfume of the cucumber shampoo.
At long last, Scorpius almost regretfully rinsed the thoroughly shampooed hair with clear water, moved to the side of the tub and waited until Al had opened his eyes again. He took a deep breath.
"I have decided I was an idiot, and you were right. And if you are still interested, I think so am I."
Al gave him a nerve-wrackingly long look, and then his face lit up with a true and unrestrained smile.
"Yeah, I kind of figured."
Only to add with a wicked grin, "Interesting seduction technique you have there."
Scorpius crossed his arms in mock indignation.
"Well, the original plan was a bit different, I'll have you know. Less water, for one. But you know what they say: A good Auror is always ready to change the plan to accommodate new circumstances."
About to answer, Al was cut short by a smart rap at the door.
"Potter? They want you in the office in ten minutes sharp for debriefing. Move it!"
* * *
It was frustrating beyond belief.
After the debriefing, the entire trainee group wanted to hear Al's story, and then they insisted on heading to the pub for their last night out, to celebrate their hero. Half the village celebrated along, and everybody wanted a word with Albus Potter, hero of the day.
Scorpius wanted to scream and stamp his feet in sheer exasperation and impatience.
It was early rather than late by the time they had managed to bid the last of their fellow trainees good night, watched them stagger off to a brief nap before breakfast, and at last found themselves alone in a dimly lit corridor.
Al turned to Scorpius.
"I seem to recall you mentioning a plan you had? Not involving water?"
Scorpius could have sworn his eyes were glowing with green fire in the shadows. His body reacted instantly, and thinking became impossible. Standing there and staring at Al, beautiful, strong, seductive, wonderful Al, was about as much as he could manage. The one vague thought pulsing through him was: It's now or never! It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, preparing to jump, but terrified of doing so.
Al stepped closer, very close, and brought his mouth to his right ear.
"If there had been no interruption in the bathroom, what would you have done?"
Grey eyes locked with green. And Scorpius took his heart in his hands and jumped.
Burying both hands in Al's robes, he got a firm grip and pushed him backwards until he was shoved right up against the corridor wall, leant in and kissed him.
Sweet Merlin, what a kiss!
He hadn't known kissing could be like this! Hot and scorching and hungry.
Al's lips parted slightly, an offer, not a demand, and Scorpius took what was offered, fiercely exploring, taking, claiming, feeling.
When he came up for breath at last, gasping from more than a lack of oxygen, Al tilted his head, exposing his throat, inviting Scorpius to discover more of what was finally his for the taking.
As he buried his face in the side of Al's throat, nuzzling the smooth skin below the edge of stubble, he became aware that he was pressed tight against Al, his left leg between Al's parted thighs, and if he moved his hips a bit, he could feel an insistent hardness that was not his own. He shifted deliberately a few times, tilting his head to look straight at Al as he did it. In response, Al moved his left thigh slightly up and down in a way that ground it right against Scorpius' own straining cock, sending sparks through his lower body.
And then Scorpius pulled Al down for another crushing kiss, and they were rocking and humping against each other without restraint, Al's stomach and chest moving with ragged breaths under his hands, quick puffs of air where they were breathing through their noses to not break the kiss, the heat of Al's lips on his, Al's warm, hot mouth, their tongues dancing around each other, his hips grinding into Al, pressing him flat against the unyielding wall, seeking more pressure, more friction, right there, like this, in an increasingly erratic, frantic rhythm.
Don't stop!
Don't ever stop!
Pressure, heat, hardness, Al moaning into his mouth.
With a deep groan right back into Al's mouth, Scorpius felt orgasm wash over him, ground himself even harder against the hot, hard body in his arms, and came in a breathtaking wave of pure pleasure.
His legs almost buckled under him, and he had to hold on to Al for support.
He was gasping for breath, dizzily trying to get his mind around just having had the most sensationally mind-blowing climax ever, not to mention the first ever involving more than his right hand and an active imagination. In Potter's arms! No, Al's arms!
Al smiled against his mouth.
"You know, you're really hot once you make up your mind."
When they finally parted, Scorpius shivered at the sudden coldness where Al's warm body had been, then realised with dismay that he felt really sticky inside his robes, and that that was not a hot feeling at all.
Al saw his grimace, and laughed.
"I reckon the bathroom would have been a better place, after all."
At the thought of a wet, naked Al against the bathroom wall, Scorpius almost got hard again. Maybe Al saw it in his face, because the laughter was replaced by a far more intense look as he leaned over, gave Scorpius a soft good-night kiss and murmured, "Maybe next time, huh?"
Day 14
When Scorpius woke up the next morning, he had to stay in bed for a bit before he could face the world without grinning like an idiot.
It had really happened. He had decided that he wanted Al, and Al wanted him, and they had kissed, and they had had ... well, not sex exactly, he supposed, but something close to it, and it had been exhilarating and mind-blowing and just plain fantastic. Hopefully, they could do it again. Soon. Al had mentioned a 'next time'. There would be a next time! More kissing, and rubbing, and also, maybe less clothing? Though to be fair, there had been less clothing in the bath.
Great Merlin, had he really gone and washed Al's hair? What an embarrassingly girly thing to do. Why ever had he done it?
It had felt wonderful.
But maybe Al thought it was a strange thing to do.
Maybe Al woke up today and decided it had all been a mistake, that Scorpius was too strange and he could do better than him!
By the time he was dressed and reluctantly heading for breakfast, Scorpius was convinced that Al had meant nothing by his parting remark, that it had been a one-off thing to him, and that he would break his heart. He just hoped that their friendship could eventually be salvaged.
He was so deep in this depressing train of thought that he ran straight into Al outside the breakfast room.
"Wow, watch it."
Recognising Scorpius, and seeing whatever emotions were visible on his face, Al gripped his shoulders and peered at him.
"Morning, sunshine! I would ask if you had sweet dreams, but judging by that pinched look on your face you didn't. What's up?"
Scorpius couldn't look up. He just couldn't.
It's starting already, he thought miserably, he's acting just like always, like nothing special happened.
Until Al lightly kissed him on the tip of his nose.
"I very much hope this face doesn't mean you're having second thoughts. Because there is no way I am going through all that drama again. You like me, I like you, and we'll just see where that takes us. End of story. All right?"
And as all his anxieties and fears fell off him like a landslide, as everything became simple and straightforward and do-able and exciting again, Scorpius remembered that Al had always had that effect on him, and that his carefree nature was beyond a doubt the thing he loved best about Al Potter.
Recipient: dysonrules
Title: Stealth & Tracking
Pairing: Albus/Scorpius
Summary: During an Auror training course, Scorpius realises that maybe he wants to be more than friends with Al Potter.
Rating: R
Warnings: slash (Scorpius wouldn't call it sex, exactly, but Al says he's wrong)
Word Count: 10,830
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Hugs and flowers to they-know-who for beta-reading, and for being incredibly encouraging!
Dear dysonrules, I chose the prompts will o’ wisp and cucumber shampoo (it was too good not to use, especially with the request for hair washing!), and a couple of other items from your wishlist also made it into the story. I hope you enjoy!
Day 1
Scorpius hated Al Potter.
Especially his careless attitude towards other people's dignity.
His glare should have communicated the feeling clearly, but his fellow Auror trainee just gave him an evil grin, and a challenging nod at the shot glass he had just placed before him.
"Bottoms up, Malfoy!"
Did he have to sound so gleeful? Scorpius braced himself, brought the glass to his lips, tilted his head back and knocked down the contents, only to explode into a violent coughing fit. Merlin, that stuff was vile!
To be fair, it had been Scorpius' own fault. He could have refused when Al bet him a drink that he was right about the textbook definition of correct Kelpie-taming. Or at least specified who would be having the drink.
But Scorpius didn't much feel like being fair. Al knew perfectly well that he hated being made a fool of in public, and that he didn't drink hard liquor. But as usual, because it was a laugh to Al it must be to everyone else, too.
Luckily, once the initial laughter had died down, nobody made further remarks about his obvious unfamiliarity with Dragonfire-gin.
"Too strong for your refined taste buds, Malfoy?"
Except for Jonathan Price, of course. The Malfoy name had been a red flag to his Muggle-born sensibilities from day one, and by now, Scorpius had learned to let the constant jibes roll off him like water off a duck.
Having resumed his seat next to Scorpius, Al nudged his shoulder. "Hey, lighten up, Malfoy. That look on your face always makes me worry you're going to demand wands at dawn."
Scorpius refused to be appeased by the banter.
"You know perfectly well I don't drink hard liquor, and you still showed me up for the entertainment value. I hope it was a good laugh."
His voice was bitter, but low, not wanting any of the other trainees to know how angry he was over something they probably just considered a joke between friends.
Al's teasing grin vanished. He stared hard at Scorpius for a few seconds, then shook his head in disbelief.
"Merlin, Scorpius, it was just a bit of fun. Most people react to a shot of Dragonfire, and just because it's funny doesn't mean you were shown up. Nobody but you even thinks that. Besides, if you can still worry this much, you definitely need more alcohol. So how's this for a peace offering: I'll get us two pints, you will solemnly swear to have fun tonight, and tomorrow you can kick my arse in training."
Scorpius looked after him as he made his way through the crowded pub, amused despite himself.
Al just didn't get that it was not as easy for him to 'let go' as it was for the son of famous Harry Potter. People heard Al's name, and he was forgiven almost anything. That he was cheerful, outgoing, and possessed this mysterious skill of getting along with virtually everybody also helped. He didn't have to worry about what people might think or what his family might say if he acted out, or caused spectacles, or violated the rules of socially acceptable behaviour. Which wasn't his fault, and Scorpius didn't begrudge him his luck, but if he could just stop acting as if Scorpius were this uptight wallflower that only needed loosening up - which included alcohol, apparently - being friends with him would be much easier.
With a whiff of stale ale and tobacco a distraction in the form of an old man, local judging by the dress - and staunch supporter of the Firewhisky industry judging by the nose - drew up a chair and joined the round of young people like a solicitous host finally finding time for his guests.
"So, never seen you around here, lads. And ladies." The last with a nod at Rocket and Tricia Hall. "What are you up to, then?"
As usual, Harry Dawlish took it upon himself to speak for the group.
"We are Aurors in training, sir. Here for a two week training course in Stealth and Tracking on the moor."
"Is that right? Well, you sure can do a lot of that sort on our moor, eh?" An amused cackle, followed by a wheezing cough.
Scorpius inwardly rolled his eyes and pretended to listen politely, glad to see Al winding his way back through the crowd, two pints of ale in his hands and grinning at him.
Truthfully, he suspected that at first Al's interest in him might have been of a more ... physical nature. Aurors, and Auror trainees, were a gossipy lot, and Scorpius had been aware even before that first invitation for a pint at the Leaky Cauldron that Al Potter, as the saying went, 'played for both teams'. He hadn't been too bothered by it. In fact, he had taken it as a compliment of sorts, that a man as popular and good-looking as Al might have found him, quietly ambitious Scorpius Malfoy, interesting enough to actually approach. Girls had never shown much interest in him - nor he in them, to tell the truth - and it had been surprisingly flattering that somebody might think him attractive. Luckily, Al had taken it in stride when Scorpius had tactfully indicated that he liked him well enough, just not, well, that way.
With Al resuming his seat, his attention was drawn back to their self-proclaimed local welcoming committee.
"Just take care with your tracking, lads. Easy to track the wrong things out there. Can get you into trouble, it can." He leant closer, until Scorpius could smell the Firewhisky fumes on his breath, and whispered conspiratorially, "Take care when the Will o' the Wisp is about."
Out of the corner of his eyes Scorpius checked the reactions of the others to what sounded like the prelude to the local ghost story. Al and Tom Kellen were listening with a well-studied pretence of wide-eyed interest. Tricia, Dawlish and Price were less successfully faking polite attention of the 'we are serious Aurors, we do not make fun of people' kind, and Dick Frinton and Rocket were taking great care to not meet anybody's eyes, hiding suspiciously behind their drinks.
"Flickering lights over the moor, yes. Can lead you badly astray, they can." He gave a wet hiccup and levelled a glassy stare at Rocket, who looked close to choking. "But I know the secret, I do. You want me to tell you?" Dramatic pause. "Ah, good lads like you, I reckon I should, hey? First, what you need is a bit o' courage. See, you have to follow them. Into the mist, into the moor, yes. Not for the faint-hearted, that. And then comes the trick. It's not everybody I tell that to, no. You have to take off your robe, see, and put it back on inside out. So that it's confused, right?"
Scorpius was feeling a bit confused himself by now. What in Merlin's name was the old wizard on about?
"And because it's confused, it will forget that it meant to lure you into the bog, you see. And that is when you have to be all nice and proper and very respectful and all that. And then -" his voice dropped dramatically, "then it leads you to its treasure. 'Cause you see, that is what they are. Guardians of treasure, yes. Treasure beyond imagination. But first, you got to follow them, and confuse 'em, and all that. Not a lot as manage that. Hah! You have what it takes, lads?" He sized them up through bleary eyes. "Aurors, was it? Shouldn't be a problem then, just you remember, lads, follow 'em, robes inside out, treat 'em well, and -" he thumped the table with his flat hand hard enough to rattle the tankards, "- treasure beyond imagination." And with a last toothy grin, he staggered off towards the bar.
"What the blazes was that about?" asked Kellen in a bewildered voice.
Al gave an amused laugh. "Flickering lights over the moor? Whatever he called them, I'd say he was talking about Hinkypunks. Sounds like some local superstition. I just hope no one is stupid enough to listen to that tosh. You follow a Hinkypunk, the only thing you get is stuck in a bog, or drowned and probably eaten. Never heard them called what he said, though."
Price sat up eagerly. "Will o' the Wisp! I've read that in Muggle books, it's their name for Hinkypunks. They are not as ignorant about wizarding matters as you'd think, you know." He gave Scorpius a glance as he said it, clearly daring him to comment.
Al snorted. "If local wisdom really holds that you confuse a Hinkypunk by turning your robes inside out, there seem to be plenty of wizards ignorant about wizarding matters."
Day 2
Scorpius peered into the fog that hung over the moor, trying to make out anything. He was supposed to track down his exercise partner - Al, as chance would have it - before he could reach one of two predetermined arrival points. Given the abysmal conditions of visibility, he was relying strongly on locator spells and even actual tracking of footprints. He had been following what he thought were recently made tracks, but he was reaching more rocky territory, and they were becoming nearly impossible to make out.
A faint light bobbed up and down through the fog not too far away, the third he had seen today. The first time, his immediate thought was that Al had been careless enough to cast Lumos, but then he had remembered the old man last night talking about Hinkypunks.
The fading tracks were leading straight towards the unsteady light, and he cursed. Hinkypunk lights indicated marshy ground, and Al, self-proclaimed expert on all things creature-related, would know that. So the tracks couldn't be his, and Scorpius had wasted an hour following a false trail.
And by the time he had backtracked and found a new trail to follow, Al would have won the exercise.
* * *
Two hours later he felt very foolish when Al demonstrated to everyone else's great amusement how he could adapt his Lumos to flicker with the unsteadiness of a lantern light and hold his wand tip at knee height to imitate a Hinkypunk. If it hadn't been for the fog, Al would have passed him in plain sight!
* * *
It was probably Scorpius' lasting embarrassment that kept him from running the other way when the already traditional night out in the local pub degenerated into a spin-the-wand game of Truth or Dare.
He had thought the game childish and ridiculous in his school days, and was unlikely to ever change that assessment. But he had enjoyed being part of the group last night, and he didn't want to be seen as a spoil sport, and just maybe Al had a point when he'd said to not always take everything so seriously.
Still, when the hovering, spinning wand slowed, Scorpius prayed that it would pass him, once more. He really did not fancy anything Dick Frinton might ask him or make him do.
To his relief, it quivered to a halt pointing at Al instead.
Dick gave an evil cackle and rubbed his hands in anticipatory glee.
"Truth or Dare, Potter?"
Al gave a careless wave. "Truth. And try not to be too shallow, Frinton."
Dick made a show of thinking it over, and then -
"If you fell into the deep end of the Hogwarts lake and had to be rescued and your rescuer had to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, would you rather be rescued by Professor Patil or by Professor Longbottom?"
Laughs and groans greeted this, and even Scorpius couldn't help a startled laugh at the sheer silliness of the question.
Al chuckled knowingly. "In other words, the hottest male professor or the hottest female professor. Well, if you insist -"
Scorpius found that he was on the edge of his seat, and quickly sat back and adopted a more relaxed, uncaring pose. He had never actually heard Al himself own up to his ... preferences. But still, not like it was a big deal, right?
Al let his gaze travel around the table slowly, as if judging the likely reactions to whatever answer he planned to give, making Scorpius unaccountably nervous.
"That would without a doubt be Professor Longbottom." He was looking straight at Scorpius now. "I much prefer blondes."
The moment ended, and amidst a few remaining titters Al spun the wand once more.
It was charmed to stop randomly, so Scorpius knew it had to be coincidence, but he could have sworn Al looked triumphant when the wand singled him out for the first time in the game.
Given Al's rather broad definition of fun, he felt a little uneasy about this turn of events, but still gave a firm "Truth!" in answer to Al's questioningly raised eyebrow. If necessary, he could always lie.
Obviously, Al, too, had been infected by the current silliness, because, damn him, he chose to ask, "First girl you wanted to ask out?"
Thankfully, Scorpius had no scruples about bending or reinventing the truth, and some experience at it in that particular area. "Tanya Gibbons, third year," he replied with just enough hesitation to be credible.
A chorus of chuckles confirmed that enough of them remembered the unanimously voted 'hottest babe of Hogwarts' that his answer would not be questioned. Only Al gave him a look that suggested he knew him rather too well. Mercifully, he didn't say anything.
Relieved, Scorpius ended up asking Rocket how she had got her nickname. To no one's surprise it was short for 'Pocket Rocket', hailed from her days as a tournament duellist, and had been shortened to 'Rocket' since. He might have come up with something better if he hadn't been trying to work out which professor he would have chosen if he were really honest with himself.
That unsettling line of thought was put on hold when the wand again swivelled round to point at Al.
"Give me a rest, people! Right, enough confessions for today." He squared his shoulders as if bracing himself. "Hit me with your best, lady. I say Dare!"
Rocket scrutinised him for a few seconds, before her face lit up in a mischievous grin.
"Al Potter, I dare you to kiss the prettiest set of lips at this table."
A few not entirely sober giggles followed that pronouncement. Scorpius hastily shut his mouth. Merlin, he hadn't had that much to drink, had he? Surely there was no reason to be nervous just because he was going to watch Al kiss someone, possibly a male someone?
One second later, he re-evaluated that thought as Al's searching gaze zeroed in on him. Merlin, no way!
Al pushed his chair back, got up and walked around the table with predatory slowness. Surely he wouldn't?
On second thought, this was Al Potter. Of course he would!
Al stopped behind him, one hand on the back of his chair, gave a fake bow and murmured in a passably seductive voice, "If I may, Mr Malfoy?"
Scorpius felt as if a Fizzing Whizzbee was loose in his stomach. Scratch that, definitely more than one. Oh, how ridiculous! This was just Al playing to the crowd in a stupid game. It wasn't like he meant anything by it, was it?
Determined not to chicken out, he gave his best attempt at a love-struck, longing gaze and turned his face to Al's in clear challenge.
Only to be struck speechless by the sheer closeness of his face, the jet-black mop of hair, the green eyes. He couldn't recall them having been this startlingly green before.
A lock of black hair fell across his face, tickling his cheek, then two rough hands gently took hold of his face, tilting it up just so. And then Al's lips were on his, a feathery soft caress that sent an unexpected jolt through his entire body.
He must have gasped, or something, because despite the cheers of "Tongue! Tongue!" he could hear faintly through the buzzing noise filling his head Al slowly drew back, dropped his hands and gave him a long, searching look before returning to his seat.
The rest of the game happened without Scorpius noticing much of it. Lucky chance reduced him to a passive participant, anyway, and nobody else seemed to pay him much attention. Except for Al, who kept shooting him furtive glances and appeared to be deep in thought as well.
Day 3
The reprieve lasted until early the next evening.
Scorpius had just returned from the showers, and was busy cleaning his mud-caked boots before heading off to the pub with the others. Al, who had been back much earlier, had already had his customary hot bath and was leaning against the door frame, idly watching his friend work.
"So, Tanya Gibbons, eh?"
Caught unprepared, Scorpius felt himself blushing. He bent closer over the dirty shoes in an attempt to hide it, and feigned nonchalance.
"Surprised?"
"That you'd come up with a convincing lie instead of revealing your innermost secrets to a horde of tipsy Auror trainees? Not especially, no."
Scorpius glared at him, but Al was unimpressed.
"Your fingers twitch when you make something up. If it had been the truth, you'd have been embarrassed. And embarrassed is clenched hands, not twitching."
Dismayed by how transparent he obviously was, Scorpius immediately shot back, "Lying: your eyes go all wide and innocent and stop blinking; embarrassed: you shuffle your feet."
Al gave a delighted laugh.
"So you watch me as closely as I watch you. I'm flattered."
Shrugging, Scorpius turned his attention back to his footwear. But Al was not to be distracted.
"Seriously, though, if you have to make up stuff for that kind of question, you're either a hermit in training or not nearly as straight as I thought."
Scorpius shifted uncomfortably on his suddenly much too hard chair. Al was his friend, and moreover the only not-straight friend he knew - or knew about - and he didn't want to brush him off, but he wasn't sure he was ready to talk about this, either. The thought of discussing it, even with Al, was mortifying. Then again, it was also sort of ... tempting.
"Relax, mate. You're not on trial here. I was just wondering, is all."
"I don't really know. I mean, I haven't, well, I've mostly been busy with other things, you know? School, and grades, and training and things, and I guess I just never met the right one, you know? The right girl, I mean. Or woman. And just because I never asked anyone out doesn't mean I'm ... well, does it?"
Aware that he was babbling, Scorpius flushed even worse, one hand clenched tightly around his wand, the other around the gathered shoelaces, and hurried on before Al could make fun of him.
"Well, so maybe it does, but it's just ... well, I have thought about it, you know. And I don't think I am, because, no offence, Al, but it's just weird. I mean, I can look at a guy and see that he's good-looking, or maybe even ... well, but I don't want to do ... things. So I don't think I am, really."
"Things." Al repeated with a deadpan expression. "What kind of 'things'?"
Abruptly, Scorpius stood up. "You know what , thanks for your concern, but I don't think I want to have this conversation. I mean, it's completely beside the point, anyway."
"It is exactly the point if you are making yourself unhappy because you refuse to see what is right before your eyes." Al was looking more serious than Scorpius could ever remember seeing him. "Scorpius, there is nothing wrong with liking men. Or wanting to do 'things' with them. So long as you like it, and no one gets hurt, there's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"I'm not embarrassed. And of course there's nothing wrong with it! I mean, you are ... What I mean is ... Merlin's Fire! What I mean is, it's not an option for me anyway, so what is the point dissecting it to death?"
Al cocked his head quizzically at this. "I'd say the point is to get you past your irrational inhibitions and enjoy yourself with some hot piece of ass, or in other words, to get some scorching hot sex into your life."
Scorpius felt his whole body flush at the blunt language, but refused to look away.
"But I take it you'd disagree. Scorpius, why the hell do you say it is not an option?" There was genuine concern in Al's voice now.
Scorpius sighed. "I am an only child, Al. One day, I will inherit a considerable fortune and a family tree that reaches back to before the Founders. And that comes with certain obligations. It may not mean much to you, but it does to my family, and it does to me. I will not disappoint them."
There was a loud silence during which Scorpius wondered if it had been a mistake bringing up his family. Most people didn't react well to it, and easy as it was to forget it most days, this was still Harry Potter's son he was talking to.
However, when Al finally did find his voice, it wasn't to say anything about the questionable Malfoy family honour.
"So let me get this straight. You are likely to live for, let's say, a hundred to a hundred and fifty years, roughly the next eighty of which you will be capable of fathering as many kids as you please. On top of which, adoption is a perfectly acceptable means of securing an heir. But it's not an option for you to ogle hot men in the here and now." He raked a hand through his still damp hair. "Merlin's balls, Scorpius, I wasn't asking if you planned to be bound and married to a man for life. I'm just trying to find out if maybe I'm not the only one in this room who thinks a firm ass and a six-pack are at least as hot as tits and curves."
* * *
Picking through the remains of his steak and ale pie an hour later, Scorpius was barely aware of the conversation around him, and very pointedly not aware of Al's frequent concerned glances. Dimly, he registered the old man from their first day telling his 'Will o' the Wisp' story to a pair of adolescent boys who were hanging on his every word with an awe that made Tricia call them something rather unflattering, but mostly he was trying to make sense of the whirlwind roaring through his brain.
If he was very honest with himself, he knew that it had never been girls. Knew that the first crush of his life had been on the (decidedly male) Gryffindor Quidditch captain, back in his third year. Knew that watching the better-looking men in the training course, like Al or Tom Kellen, duelling or working out in the practise yard got him hard, while watching Tricia or Rocket had never affected him in the least. Knew even that deep down the problem was not children or family, but his desire to fit in, to not be the odd one out. Well, that and a good deal of anxiety about ... 'things'.
But surely that didn't mean he was -
He couldn't be -
On the other hand, Al had a point. There was no pressure on him to start a family this instant. He was free to experiment for a good while yet. And nobody thought Al was odd for liking men. Would it really be so horrible if he turned out to be a little bit ... gay?
Day 6
The sun was almost setting - not that it was visible through the steady drizzle - when Al and Scorpius returned, splattered with mud, wet and cold, but in an exceedingly good mood, from another day on the moor.
They had tracked their target down in an exemplary show of teamwork - Al had kept his head through a concerted attempt of at least five Hinkypunks to get them off the safe paths, and Scorpius had performed the combination of spells that had broken through Dick's Disillusionment Charm - and were very pleased with themselves.
After the obligatory debriefing, they headed straight for the bathrooms, Scorpius to the shower stalls, Al to the sole bathtub available in the requisitioned bed & breakfast.
On the way back from a long hot shower, Scorpius almost collided with the freshly bathed Al, getting a whiff of clean wet hair, a brush of hot, still damp skin, and a close look at a fit body wrapped in nothing more than a towel round the hips.
In an attempt to cover his confusion, and distract himself from looking at the dark line of hair trailing down Al's stomach and disappearing below the towel, he shook his head in mock reproach.
"You know, showers are good enough for most of us."
"Ah, you don't know what you're missing. Day like this, nothing beats a hot bath. Besides," - this added with a teasing grin - "I wouldn't want anyone to think I was ogling their goods."
"Shame, really," Scorpius quipped, before his brain caught up with his tongue. Now where had that come from?
Never one to miss an opening, Al sidled up to him and fluttered his eyelashes. "Feel free to join me anytime, loverboy."
Scorpius stared, speechless, at his retreating back and the exaggerated swagger that emphasised his broad shoulders and firm ass.
With a jolt, he realised two things. One, he had just admired Al Potter's ass. And two, he was rock hard. The 'loverboy' had worked on his cock with the impact of a well-placed Stinging Hex, except that it didn't fade, or sting. Even worse, just before he could regain control of his senses, he had an absurd image of himself and Al in a giant steaming tub full of water, naked bodies gliding around each other like playing seals.
He groaned. He was so hard that walking actually hurt.
* * *
Barely three minutes later, Scorpius put his head against the wall of the toilet cubicle and closed his eyes in quiet desperation. No way was he attracted to Al Potter! He just couldn't be! Except that he very obviously was. Witness the last five minutes. Well, fuck!
There were far too many reasons why this was a bad idea. For starters, Al was his best friend, something he really did not want to risk or lose. And even if Al liked men in general, Scorpius was intelligent enough to recognise that that did not automatically mean he would want every man, or him in particular. Why would he? Al probably had a history of conquests, given the ease with which he talked about 'things'. So what would he want with someone as inexperienced and uncertain as Scorpius? Sweet Merlin, he could barely think the word 'gay'! Al would probably be kind enough not to laugh in his face, and that would be the best he could hope for.
Well, he was certainly not going to make a fool of himself by letting Al know how desperately he wanted another light, feathery, sweet, fizzing kiss. Or see that deep look in his green eyes that took his breath away. Or tousle that wild black head of hair. Or just brush against him accidentally on purpose, or get a friendly clap on the shoulder.
No, he had been fine before, he would be fine now, and he was not going to lose his friend, or his dignity, over this immature crush.
He'd just quietly enjoy any chance to be around Al, and take care to wear loose robes, until it wore off!
Day 8
Two days later they both had a day off, during which they were supposed to analyse their performance so far and receive individual training sessions. Finding themselves with some spare time after lunch, they had also decided to teach Scorpius how to pretend to be a Hinkypunk.
Running at a crouch to hold the wand tip at the right height, Scorpius was concentrating so hard on making his Lumos flicker with Hinkypunk-like faintness that he never saw the rabbit-hole. All he knew was that one moment he had been trying to produce an irregular flicker, and the next he was flat on his face, his breath knocked out of him. Reflexively, he checked for his wand, relieved to see it lying, undamaged, a foot away.
Red-faced at his clumsiness, he jumped up, grabbed his wand and gave it another try, this time paying more attention to the ground.
He thought he had finally gotten the hang of it, and turned around for Al's confirmation.
Instead, the brat was laughing at him. And laughed even harder at his indignation over it.
"We'll make a Hinkypunk out of you yet, Malfoy. But in the meantime," Al walked up to him, "those cockleburs in your hair really don't suit you."
Scorpius reached up and came away with one of the prickly things in his hand. "Well, don't stand there laughing, get them out," he grumbled. He probably looked ridiculous, and he didn't want to look ridiculous in front of Al. Tripping like some moron had been bad enough.
He only realised his mistake when Al stepped up close enough for his breath to hit the back of his neck in warm wet clouds of air. The last time he had been that close to Al had been that wonderful kiss. And thinking about that was a worse mistake. The fingers working through his tangled hair were doing strange things to his body, making not just his scalp tingle, but his entire body, right to the soles of his feet.
And there was that scent again, Al's scent. He recognised it from the night with the towel-incident, fresh and mild, not flowery-sweet, but putting him in mind of summer days and refreshing dips into clear cold water and hot sun on wet skin.
Eyes closed, breathing deeply, Scorpius tried to feel the moment as much as possible, revelling in the chance to be close to Al, even be touched by Al, and not having to hide his expression.
"There, all gone now. Looking as good as ever."
The whisper in his ear made him, and other parts of his body, jump. Suddenly, Scorpius feared that if he turned and even so much as looked at Al, he would come where he stood.
He forced a casual tone into his voice.
"Thanks. I guess we should get back for the briefing, then."
And without turning, or waiting for Al to follow him, he briskly went off towards the village as fast as he could without actually running.
Day 9
Things didn't get much better after that. Luckily, the physical demands of the training course provided a welcome outlet for the tension Scorpius now felt almost constantly.
So when some of their group started an impromptu duelling session, he joined in with rare zeal.
He had just beat Al after a good fight, but apparently the other man had excessive energy to vent, too, and before long the duel had turned into a friendly brawl, wands abandoned.
Scorpius didn't know quite how it happened, maybe Al stepped back too hastily, but he slipped on the muddy ground, lost his balance and fell, mud splattering all around him. He tried to get up, but slipped right back down. And when Scorpius offered a hand to pull him up, true to form, Al pulled hard in return.
He landed awkwardly half on top of Al, who was laughing with abandon, like a boy who had successfully executed a brilliant prank. But Scorpius barely noticed. Al's body felt warm and firm and very alive under him, his tangled black curls were tickling his nose and face, and there was that faint smell again, tempered now with mud and rain and sweat.
He took a deep slow breath, inhaling the moment, oblivious to his growing erection pressed flush against Al's hipbone. If only he could stay like this a little longer. If only this could last forever.
Abruptly, he came to his senses. He was lying in a puddle of mud, water and dirt were slowly seeping into his robes, and if he hadn't been so fixated on hair, he would probably have been humping Al by now. Sweet Merlin, what must Al be thinking!
Hastily he scrambled up, slipping and sliding in the mud, not caring that it got him even dirtier. He couldn't look at Al as he gave him a hand up, quickly mumbled something about showers and beat as fast a retreat as he dared without losing even more face.
The back entrance to their lodgings was almost in reach when Al caught up with him.
"Scorpius, wait!"
When Scorpius ignored him, Al grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, eyes blazing.
"What the hell was that?"
Scorpius' insides clenched, and there didn't seem to be enough air. Al had noticed something was wrong. And now he was forcing him into precisely the sort of confrontation he had been bound and determined to avoid.
"Sorry," he mumbled, unable to look at Al. "Won't happen again." And please, he prayed, just let me go.
Al drew his fingers through his hair, oblivious to the muddy streak they left.
"What won't happen again?" There was a quality of sharpness and anger in his voice that seemed out of place. "Look, there is only so much I can take, and I have just about had it with your constant back and forth, so let's settle this once and for all. Do you or don't you fancy me?"
Faced with another example of Al's characteristic bluntness, Scorpius gaped, his mind blank. What to say? Admitting it would make him sound pathetic. But Al could usually tell when he was reinventing the truth. He compromised by going on the defensive instead.
"What kind of a question is that? Just because you have a better track record than some doesn't mean everybody wants you, you know."
Al looked as if he'd been slapped, but he recovered quickly. His abrupt laugh was almost derisive.
"It won't work, Scorpius. You're not going to out-logic me on this, or get out of answering the question. I know what I know, and you have been reacting to me ever since I kissed you in that stupid, brilliant game. Your body reacts to me, whether you like it or not. But as per bloody usual, you choose to ignore it. Do you know, for a moment there I really thought you might be leading me on on purpose. But you're not a cock-tease, are you? You're just uptight to the point of constipation! Do you really think you can go on forever pretending you don't want to shag men? I have news for you, Scorpius Malfoy: Judging by the way it stood to attention back there, your cock disagrees!"
Too angry to even be embarrassed, Scorpius let the tension of the past days explode at last.
"Shut up! I tried, all right? I tried to not make it a problem, but you weren't exactly helping with your 'loverboy' this and 'kissable' that. I can't help what my subconscious wants, but I will not let it ruin our friendship, so shut up already! "
Al seemed taken aback for a moment, then a grin, of all things, spread over his face, as if Christmas had come early.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me! You didn't want to ruin our friendship? I don't know if you noticed, but that first time I asked you out, I was, in fact, asking you out. And when you gave me that pretty little speech about how you didn't happen to have time for girls right now, with very polite emphasis on girls, I backed off, deciding friendship was a good second-best, but it was still just a consolation prize. And now you melt under a kiss that barely deserves the name, forget to breathe when I touch you, and get a raging hard-on from smelling my hair. And you seriously have the gall to blame your inconvenient subconscious? Scorpius, you're either so deep in denial you're practically drowning in it, or you are a lot more innocent than I gave you credit for."
Hearing exactly the kind of condescending tone he had been afraid of, Scorpius saw red.
"Just because I don't throw myself at everybody who comes along doesn't make me an innocent. And denial has nothing to do with it, I just know better than to blindly follow every sudden whim I have. Life is not that simple!"
"Oh yes, Scorpius, sometimes it is exactly that simple. You want something, you go for it. Just because it feels like a good idea at the time, no more reasons needed. Like I went and kissed you, because my gut instinct told me maybe I should test the waters once more. Merlin's balls, Scorpius, this is not an Auror case. I'm the first person to appreciate your amazing ability to analyse and think things through to the last crucial detail, but this is about feeling, not thinking. Sometimes, logic isn't enough, sometimes you just need to trust your instincts, you know? Go with them and see where it takes you. Me, it made me chat you up and start this friendship, and it made me go after you now to have this out. If I'd stopped to think it over a million times before deciding, you'd still be the quiet shy one who is afraid of talking to people, and I would have missed out on knowing you."
Patronising bastard! Scorpius' blood was boiling now.
"Fuck you, Potter! Just because you have more friends than I do does not give you the right to lecture me. And just because I get hard just thinking about you does not mean I have to do anything about it. Save your pity for someone who wants it!"
The itch to go for his wand and let fly some really good hexes was getting stronger by the second, and -
"Hey, there you are. Haven't you heard yet?"
Rocket's voice seemed to belong to another universe. Scorpius' hand automatically fell away from his wand pocket, and he saw Al mirroring the movement. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard her explaining in a rush that a Search & Rescue call had gone out. Apparently a boy from the village had never returned from what should have been a brief jaunt on the moor, and now their instructor had volunteered his Auror trainees for searching the immediate vicinity for clues.
Their argument forgotten in the face of more serious problems, Al and Scorpius spent the rest of the evening with the other trainees combing through the increasing darkness, though both made sure to not team up with each other.
By the time they could all confidently say that they had found absolutely nothing in their assigned areas, it was pitch-black and spirits were down. No one felt much like going down to the pub, and they said their good-night's quickly.
The silver lining was that Scorpius could put off facing the potential end of his friendship with Al until next morning.
That night, he had a confused dream about Al standing in front of a class-room telling him he would never get his N.E.W.T. in 'Truth or Dare' if he didn't learn to kiss properly, while a Howler shouted at him that he was a disgrace to the Malfoy name, and didn't he know better than to hold hands in public with an Auror trainee wearing only a towel!
Day 10
The next morning, Scorpius stood studying the assignment sheet for the day - they would now be pitted against each other in groups, and as bad luck would have it, 'Potter' and 'Malfoy' were listed in the same group for today - when someone hesitantly moved up beside him.
"Morning, Scorpius."
With satisfaction, he noted the uncertain voice and the nervous scuffing of boots, and pointedly took a sip of his tea, eyes fixed on the notice-board.
More scuffing, noisy clearing of a throat, and, "All right, I get that you're still angry. I just wanted to say, I'm sorry about the stuff I said last night, all right? Well, not everything, but, I guess you know which parts. And also, in case I didn't make that clear enough, I do fancy you."
Scorpius shot him an involuntary glance. He wished Al would go away. He was not remotely ready for this.
But Al wasn't done. "A lot, really. And I think you fancy me too. But, well, like you said, that's for you to decide, not me, so -" Al took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for a blow, "- if you decide that friendship is the most we'll have, then friendship it is. I won't push you any more. Wizard promise! But if you do happen to change your mind -" He hesitated again, and Scorpius realised with vague surprise that for once Al Potter was less than sure of himself. "- well, I guess you know where to find me. Any time, any place. I mean it."
Scorpius barely breathed, eyes fixed on the wall, and finally, Al left.
Only when the group of four gathered outside for the day's exercise and Al gave him a tentative, almost hopeful look did one particular detail of last night's shouting match resurface. Had he actually said out loud that thinking about Al made him hard? What in the seven circles of hell had he been thinking? His cheeks burning, he quickly looked away.
* * *
They were supposed to make their way to an old abandoned hut and have a 'secret' conversation, which another team of trainees would attempt to spy on and report back with without being caught, while their job would be to catch the 'spies', either in the act of eavesdropping or on the way back to base. On the few occasions where Scorpius had to talk to Al, he took pains to be professional about it, and Al mercifully returned the courtesy.
It was an accidental brush of Al's shoulder against his during lunch break that brought another startling recollection. Al had called kissing him 'testing the waters'. So it hadn't been a game to him, after all! He truly meant it when he said he fancied him.
Scorpius felt a headache coming on. If only it were as easy as 'I like him, he likes me'. But Al had made it clear last night that he was not interested in anything serious, that all he cared about was jumping into things without thinking, having fun, and presumably jumping out again as soon as his 'gut instinct' told him to. And really, Scorpius just couldn't afford that sort of carelessness.
* * *
It looked as if their group would be the winners of the day. They had caught one of their 'spies' and were in hot pursuit of the other when a standard scan for traces of magic gave Scorpius a hit in a completely different direction. The missing boy still being on all their minds, he notified his team mates and veered off without hesitation to investigate.
It took him the better part of an hour struggling through increasingly swampy territory and repeatedly losing the trace of magic and finding it again, but at last he found the source. It was a wand, stuck in the brambles of a low shrub.
If that was the missing boy's wand - and it certainly fit the description they had all been given - then they were now dealing with a wizard lost in the moor without his wand, in other words, pretty much helpless. Scorpius frowned. How did that wand come to be here in the first place? Any sensible person would know better than to wade right into a bog, no matter how lost they were. The quagmire was knee-deep where he was standing, it just didn't make any sense.
With the first faint flickering light blinking into existence at the edge of his vision, it suddenly made frighteningly much sense. He had a vague memory of a couple of young boys hanging on that old man's words at the pub, and a clearer one of thinking the missing boy's friend looked familiar. Bloody fools! That sort of people didn't need Aurors, they needed a nanny!
There were at least four lights dancing around him now in a pattern designed for confusion, and he decided this was not a good time to think about what had likely happened not so long ago to a wandless young wizard whose only crime was stupidity. And then realised that while he still had his wand, and consequently was able to find out where North was, he was less certain where he had come from. His footprints had disappeared, filled with water and mud, and where had all this fog come from so quickly?
And he was not going to panic!
He was an Auror, for Merlin's sake!
Later he would swear that of course he would have thought of some handy spell and gotten himself out on his own, but he was still ridiculously glad to see a fifth light join the dancing circle, only this one was steady, strong, unmoving, and at human height. Securing the abandoned wand in his robes, he made his way towards the light, until it was only his ankles sinking into the ground, and then not even that.
And then there stood Al, only dimming his Lumos when Scorpius was right before him.
The others soon joined them, and listened grimly to Scorpius' conclusions.
"If he's lost in the bog, those Search and Rescue people won't have anything to find or rescue. And even if he didn't drown or worse, there is only so long he can survive without a wand."
No one had anything to add to that.
Looking back at the spectacle of lights that was the Hinkypunk-infested marsh, Scorpius noticed Al looking, too, and then briefly looking at him, as if reassuring himself that he really was safely out of there.
And just like that, Scorpius found he was no longer angry at Al over last night. He had probably thought he was helping, and to be honest, they had both said things they shouldn't have.
He turned and held out a hand in peace offering.
"Thanks for that one, Potter."
Al looked surprised, grateful, and then a little sad, but he took the hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
"Any time, Malfoy." He gave a mock salute. "Will o' the Wisp beacon service. We give you any Lumos you need!"
Scorpius mimed hexing him, and then stopped himself at the last second from casually tousling Al's hair as he would usually have done. It was good to have things back to normal. Or at least be able to pretend.
Day 13
The traditional - and much anticipated - end to the Auror trainee Stealth and Tracking course was a two-day adaptation of 'Capture the Flag', for which trainees were divided into two groups that had to try and capture the opposing team members and find and secure their headquarters. It was part stealth and tracking, and part duelling, hence the popularity.
And Scorpius' team was winning. Unsurprisingly, as they had the best trackers, Frinton and Dawlish, and two of the best duellists, Tricia and Scorpius, who had managed to overcome a still-sulking Rocket in a truly spectacular, if slightly unfair, duel.
By the morning of the second day, they had captured Rocket and Kellen, and only lost Dawlish. More importantly, they were about to stage an attack on the enemy's headquarters, and were fairly confident theirs had not even been discovered yet.
The surprise came when they led captive number three, Price, to their 'prison'. He took one look at Kellen and Rocket, and asked, "Where's Potter?"
It turned out that Al had gone off in the morning on a reconnaissance mission, and not been seen since. Everyone had assumed he was with the others, and even though it would be just like him to stage a surprise one-man-attack, Scorpius worried. Al might be immune against Hinkypunks, but they were not the only thing that could happen to you in this marshy wilderness.
No surprise attack came, their team was declared winner, and only when they returned home did they learn what had actually happened from a member of the Search and Rescue team that had met Al this morning.
Apparently, he had come across some lead connected to the still-missing boy on his reconnaissance, followed it, and eventually wand-signalled for assistance, and when the reinforcements came, they had found him cradling the nearly starved and half-frozen boy in his arms. The village was hailing him as a hero, and at about this point in the story Price started complaining.
"So pretty-boy Potter thought he would abandon the game in favour of playing the hero. Never mind that the responsible people would have found the boy, anyway. Never mind that he lost us the game. Seems to me some people ought to check their priorities."
If he had thought about it for even a second, Scorpius would have remembered that he made it a strict policy to never rise to any of Jonathan Price's baits. But he didn't think. He didn't even remember moving, yet here he was, right in the arrogant twit's face.
"Oh yeah, Price? I say it's you who needs his priorities checked. We are Aurors, or at least we will be. It means we protect people. Al has his priorities perfectly straight, and if you really think playing hide-and-seek for marks is more important than saving a life, I hope you never make it into the Auror Corps!"
Price stared at him as if he had grown a second head, opened his mouth, closed it again, and at last allowed himself to be swept inside by Dawlish and Kellen.
Scorpius stood still, his outburst echoing inside him, the words vibrating.
Priorities. Al had his straight. He had said that he would not risk their friendship, but he had also called it a 'consolation prize'. He knew what he wanted, all right.
And his, Scorpius', own priorities?
What choices had he made, when it came right down to it?
The safety of friendship over the scariness of risking embarrassing himself before Al with his innocence and ignorance, before friends and family with being gay and different, which remained safely hypothetical now.
But also, the awkwardness of pretending things were what they used to be between Al and him, over the tingling burn when Al unexpectedly touched him, the sharp flare of shocked breathlessness when his brilliantly green eyes locked with his, the thrill of tousling his thick, soft hair, the burning desire to feel his wonderful lips on his again, the desire to rise to Al's challenge, to do the unthinkable and simply let go, to listen to those frightening feelings and act on them.
He wanted those thrills and flares, and suddenly, he couldn't stand the thought of giving them up, giving up on Al, never knowing what might have been. He wanted them, badly.
And he would show Al! Show him that he, Scorpius Malfoy, was not afraid of showing his feelings, of acting on instinct!
His eyes narrowed as plans began to form, delicious, exciting, scary plans, where he grabbed Al and kissed him and pushed him against a wall, and felt his firm living body under his, and kissed him harder, until he was too breathless to even say it deserved the name.
And he would do it right now! Before he lost his nerve and momentum, and the voice of reason caught up with him.
He walked up to the S&R person with determination.
"So where is Potter now?"
"In the tub. He's got a lot of bog to wash off." The man grinned. "Looked like a swamp monster when he brought the kid in."
But Scorpius was barely listening. His entire body had just voiced a definite opinion on Al-in-a-bathtub.
* * *
As expected, Al hadn't bothered to lock the door - no one else used the bathtub, anyway - and Scorpius quietly let himself in, thinking he might enjoy the view for a bit and then act out his plan once Al got out of the tub.
But all thoughts of rough kissing or shoving people against walls abruptly left him at the sight that greeted him.
Muddy robes and shoes were strewn on the floor between door and tub. The tub itself was full to the brim with steaming water and mountains and islands of green and blue bubbles. The unobtrusive, soothing scent of something herbal wafted through the damp heat, and then there was Al.
He lay in the tub, his back to the door, almost completely submerged, with glimpses of his muscled, well-proportioned body visible in between the bubbles. His head rested on a soggy towel folded on the rim of the tub, his eyes were closed and his features utterly relaxed. His sopping wet hair clung to his head like a tight cap and made him somehow look younger and strangely vulnerable, not a look Scorpius had ever seen on him before.
His heart skipped a beat at the emotions that welled up inside him. If Al was just after a fun-filled fling, he didn't think he could bear it. But giving this up without even having tried? That was even more unthinkable. The notion seemed like a foreign idea someone else had had a lifetime ago.
Spotting a bottle of shampoo next to the tub, a sudden tender idea grew, and for once Scorpius acted without examining it from all angles.
He non-verbally locked the door, put his wand next to Al's on its shelf, took off his already damp outer robes - absently confirming that Al really was asleep when he didn't so much as open his eyes at the small noises - grabbed the shampoo and a small stool, placed himself at the head of the tub, and finally, finally allowed his fingers to pet and stroke the shining black hair, sleek and wet as it was.
As he began pouring careful handfuls of warm sudsy water over the dark locks, Al finally stirred, eyelids fluttering open and sleepy green eyes blinking and slowly focusing on him upside down.
"Hey," Scorpius said in a low voice.
"What -"
Al tried to sit up and turn around, but Scorpius gently held him down, daringly placing a brief kiss on his wet forehead.
"Stay still. I'm listening to my gut instinct here, and if you distract me, I might lose track of what it's saying."
Al's eyes widened. For a moment, Scorpius thought he was going to say something, but then he simply closed his eyes and lay back again.
Touched by the gesture of trust, Scorpius unstopped the shampoo bottle, smelled the familiar scent and had to smile when he read the label. Cucumber Shampoo, no wonder he had not been able to place it. Pleased at knowing something so intimate about Al, he poured a bit of shampoo into his hands and began massaging it into the wet hair.
Al shivered quietly and sighed, a long, deep sigh of contentment that filled Scorpius with warmth and just a bit of pride.
He remembered his mother washing his hair when he was little, and how much he had loved it. What he had not been prepared for were the wonderful tingling things this tender act was doing to him, all the way from his scalp down his back to his toes.
With slow, circling motions his fingers learned the surface of the head under them, the little bumps and ridges, the spots that made Al shiver or sigh in particular contentment.
The whole experience felt surreal and far more intimate than he had anticipated, but also wonderful, just the two of them, connected by his fingers in Al's hair, wrapped in a serene bubble of steamy air, the faint herbal smell of the bubble-bath and the mild, fresh perfume of the cucumber shampoo.
At long last, Scorpius almost regretfully rinsed the thoroughly shampooed hair with clear water, moved to the side of the tub and waited until Al had opened his eyes again. He took a deep breath.
"I have decided I was an idiot, and you were right. And if you are still interested, I think so am I."
Al gave him a nerve-wrackingly long look, and then his face lit up with a true and unrestrained smile.
"Yeah, I kind of figured."
Only to add with a wicked grin, "Interesting seduction technique you have there."
Scorpius crossed his arms in mock indignation.
"Well, the original plan was a bit different, I'll have you know. Less water, for one. But you know what they say: A good Auror is always ready to change the plan to accommodate new circumstances."
About to answer, Al was cut short by a smart rap at the door.
"Potter? They want you in the office in ten minutes sharp for debriefing. Move it!"
* * *
It was frustrating beyond belief.
After the debriefing, the entire trainee group wanted to hear Al's story, and then they insisted on heading to the pub for their last night out, to celebrate their hero. Half the village celebrated along, and everybody wanted a word with Albus Potter, hero of the day.
Scorpius wanted to scream and stamp his feet in sheer exasperation and impatience.
It was early rather than late by the time they had managed to bid the last of their fellow trainees good night, watched them stagger off to a brief nap before breakfast, and at last found themselves alone in a dimly lit corridor.
Al turned to Scorpius.
"I seem to recall you mentioning a plan you had? Not involving water?"
Scorpius could have sworn his eyes were glowing with green fire in the shadows. His body reacted instantly, and thinking became impossible. Standing there and staring at Al, beautiful, strong, seductive, wonderful Al, was about as much as he could manage. The one vague thought pulsing through him was: It's now or never! It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, preparing to jump, but terrified of doing so.
Al stepped closer, very close, and brought his mouth to his right ear.
"If there had been no interruption in the bathroom, what would you have done?"
Grey eyes locked with green. And Scorpius took his heart in his hands and jumped.
Burying both hands in Al's robes, he got a firm grip and pushed him backwards until he was shoved right up against the corridor wall, leant in and kissed him.
Sweet Merlin, what a kiss!
He hadn't known kissing could be like this! Hot and scorching and hungry.
Al's lips parted slightly, an offer, not a demand, and Scorpius took what was offered, fiercely exploring, taking, claiming, feeling.
When he came up for breath at last, gasping from more than a lack of oxygen, Al tilted his head, exposing his throat, inviting Scorpius to discover more of what was finally his for the taking.
As he buried his face in the side of Al's throat, nuzzling the smooth skin below the edge of stubble, he became aware that he was pressed tight against Al, his left leg between Al's parted thighs, and if he moved his hips a bit, he could feel an insistent hardness that was not his own. He shifted deliberately a few times, tilting his head to look straight at Al as he did it. In response, Al moved his left thigh slightly up and down in a way that ground it right against Scorpius' own straining cock, sending sparks through his lower body.
And then Scorpius pulled Al down for another crushing kiss, and they were rocking and humping against each other without restraint, Al's stomach and chest moving with ragged breaths under his hands, quick puffs of air where they were breathing through their noses to not break the kiss, the heat of Al's lips on his, Al's warm, hot mouth, their tongues dancing around each other, his hips grinding into Al, pressing him flat against the unyielding wall, seeking more pressure, more friction, right there, like this, in an increasingly erratic, frantic rhythm.
Don't stop!
Don't ever stop!
Pressure, heat, hardness, Al moaning into his mouth.
With a deep groan right back into Al's mouth, Scorpius felt orgasm wash over him, ground himself even harder against the hot, hard body in his arms, and came in a breathtaking wave of pure pleasure.
His legs almost buckled under him, and he had to hold on to Al for support.
He was gasping for breath, dizzily trying to get his mind around just having had the most sensationally mind-blowing climax ever, not to mention the first ever involving more than his right hand and an active imagination. In Potter's arms! No, Al's arms!
Al smiled against his mouth.
"You know, you're really hot once you make up your mind."
When they finally parted, Scorpius shivered at the sudden coldness where Al's warm body had been, then realised with dismay that he felt really sticky inside his robes, and that that was not a hot feeling at all.
Al saw his grimace, and laughed.
"I reckon the bathroom would have been a better place, after all."
At the thought of a wet, naked Al against the bathroom wall, Scorpius almost got hard again. Maybe Al saw it in his face, because the laughter was replaced by a far more intense look as he leaned over, gave Scorpius a soft good-night kiss and murmured, "Maybe next time, huh?"
Day 14
When Scorpius woke up the next morning, he had to stay in bed for a bit before he could face the world without grinning like an idiot.
It had really happened. He had decided that he wanted Al, and Al wanted him, and they had kissed, and they had had ... well, not sex exactly, he supposed, but something close to it, and it had been exhilarating and mind-blowing and just plain fantastic. Hopefully, they could do it again. Soon. Al had mentioned a 'next time'. There would be a next time! More kissing, and rubbing, and also, maybe less clothing? Though to be fair, there had been less clothing in the bath.
Great Merlin, had he really gone and washed Al's hair? What an embarrassingly girly thing to do. Why ever had he done it?
It had felt wonderful.
But maybe Al thought it was a strange thing to do.
Maybe Al woke up today and decided it had all been a mistake, that Scorpius was too strange and he could do better than him!
By the time he was dressed and reluctantly heading for breakfast, Scorpius was convinced that Al had meant nothing by his parting remark, that it had been a one-off thing to him, and that he would break his heart. He just hoped that their friendship could eventually be salvaged.
He was so deep in this depressing train of thought that he ran straight into Al outside the breakfast room.
"Wow, watch it."
Recognising Scorpius, and seeing whatever emotions were visible on his face, Al gripped his shoulders and peered at him.
"Morning, sunshine! I would ask if you had sweet dreams, but judging by that pinched look on your face you didn't. What's up?"
Scorpius couldn't look up. He just couldn't.
It's starting already, he thought miserably, he's acting just like always, like nothing special happened.
Until Al lightly kissed him on the tip of his nose.
"I very much hope this face doesn't mean you're having second thoughts. Because there is no way I am going through all that drama again. You like me, I like you, and we'll just see where that takes us. End of story. All right?"
And as all his anxieties and fears fell off him like a landslide, as everything became simple and straightforward and do-able and exciting again, Scorpius remembered that Al had always had that effect on him, and that his carefree nature was beyond a doubt the thing he loved best about Al Potter.