"You're staring again," Scorpius said.

"No," Albus huffed while his eyes still fixed on the house next door.

"Wow. Could have fooled me," Scorpius muttered, strumming his guitar lightly to whatever chord was in his head.

Albus closed his eyes, leaning into his seat as the wind swept his fringe sideways. He could feel his best friend's eyes on him.

"She's off limits, Al."

That got his attention. He rested his head back against the chair, turning slightly to face Scorpius. "What do you mean 'off limits'? You're into her or something?"

Scorpius, who finally found a song to play, smirked at him. "Dad is."

He felt like punching his smug face till it needed stitching, till it coloured in purple and green, till it was unrecognisable.

He turned to look at the house again, hearing the sound of the door unlocking, his eyes went wide as the subject of his attention appeared.

"Holy fuck," he said under his breath, a small voice that got carried away by the wind and somehow, annoyingly, reached Scorpius' ears.

"Al, I'm serious. Don't." Scorpius' voice was a warning.

"Merlin, Scorp. Have you seen her in those yoga pants before?" He whistled. "Come on, mate. We're eighteen. We are supposed to be young and wild and free!" His eyes watched her every step, sealing the image of her swaying arse in his mind before he met Scorpius' eyes. "You're telling me you never wanna bang that tight arse?"

Scorpius turned to his neighbour. Albus watched amusedly as Scorpius' Adam's apple bobbed, his eyes tracking the woman as she began her yoga routine. The voice of his dad from inside the house instantly broke the attraction. Albus scowled whilst Scorpius cleared his throat.

"She's my neighbour," he said simply, strumming to The Beatles.

"Appropriate," Albus commented on his choice of song before he said, " Hot neighbour."

"What happened to you?" Scorpius looked at him pointedly, hands still talentedly strumming to the right tune. "Aren't you allergic of women? You despise them. Let alone ogling them like that."

Albus hummed. "I know what I want."

"To fuck her?"

"Currently, yeah, I'd love that."

"Al."

Albus rocked his body back and forth. His cylindrical pendant bounced against his chest. "I'm gonna say hi." Albus jumped off his seat, ignoring the blond man's warning completely.

He walked alongside the tall wrought iron fences that separated the two lots. His fingertips touched every single iron he past and finally curled around one as he stopped walking.

"Miss Granger?" He called.

"Oh, hello there." She turned around to look at him. "Do I know you?" She asked with a tinge of wary in her voice.

"Probably you've noticed this one young man has been staring at you by the porch." Albus patted his head mentally for sounding so confident.

"Oh?" She tiptoed, clearly to look at the porch from her position. "You're one of the Malfoy kids?"

He leaned his shoulder against the iron, one hand in his pocket and one hand playing with his pendant. "Quite. I'm a good friend of Malfoy junior." He straightened up as he let go of his pendant and offered his hand between two irons. "I'm Albus Potter. Just call me Albus."

She smiled kindly before she took his hand. "Hermione Granger. And please, just call me Hermione. Any friend of Draco is a friend of mine, too."

Albus grinned. "Good to hear that. Oh!" He pulled out a small chocolate bar out of his pocket and hovered it in her face. "To new friendship!"

Hermione's laughter filled the space between them. "To new friendship."

She accepted the chocolate.

Albus was elated.

"Oh, Gods. Harder," she moaned.

Albus grunted as he thrusted his hips harder against hers.

She was a mess. Writhing under him, glistening with sweat, running her hands through his hair before she pushed him back.

"Let me show you how hard I want you," she whispered before she started moving on top of him.

Albus' eyes felt heavy. But he wouldn't close them. Not now. Not when he finally got her.

He locked his hands under his head, watching her losing herself, committing every moves and sounds she made — the fluttering eyelashes against her rosy cheeks, the slow curling fingers with every scratch of his chest, the euphoric smile every time she heard his grunt, the symphonious sound she made as she thrusted, the grinding, the head falling back, the arch of her back, the moan, the scream, the scream, the scream—

"Draco!"

No, not Draco. Never Draco.

Albus pushed her off him, straddling her stomach while she smiled contentedly, ravished, after she came.

No, not Draco. Never Draco.

"No!" He screamed. His hands slippery around her sweaty neck. "You bitch. Not Draco! NOT DRACO!"

All passion left her. She started thrashing under him. Her nails scratched whatever surface she could reach, her legs kicking nothing behind him. She looked at him wide eyes, as though she finally realised who he was.

"Dra— Draco," she stuttered. The name barely left her gaping mouth.

"Shut up!" The curves of Albus' hands tightened around her slender neck. He could easily snapped it, he mused. It would be so easy, so doable, so satisfying.

He loosened his hands only when her eyes heavily shut. She was still breathing. Yes. Good. She was still alive.

Albus crawled over her limp body and sat at the edge of her bed. He wiped his sweat off his forehead, his neck, his chest. He was shaking.

Finally finally finally

He pulled several strands of her hair and put it into his pendant before he twirled it in his hand.

Finally finally finally!

He laughed gleefully as he laid beside her, caressing her cheek with his knuckle. "Thank you." He took his wand from the bedside table. "Obliviate."

He saw a sliver of light from the small crack of the office's door. He righted himself — fixing the hair and the clothes — before he pushed the door open.

Draco was sitting in one of the big armchairs in front of the fireplace — the silhouette of a king he would served forever. There was a bottle of champagne and two flutes on the table. Draco lifted his head and smiled at him.

Fond, longing, lust, all at once. The emotions burned him.

He held his hand out. "I didn't think you would come."

Albus walked toward him, adoring the way his grey eyes lit up as he closed the distance between them. They were brighter than the fire itself. The shadow danced on his blond hair. It was perfect.

He was perfect.

Albus straddled him, running his hand through his silky hair, scratching the back of his neck lightly down to his chest before he curled his fingers.

"Hermione," Draco murmured. His head was back against the chair, his white hair tousled over his forehead, and his eyes almost closed.

Just how he'd imagined he would be.

Albus kissed him gently. No. He would not rush this. Even if he had to wear another person's skin. Even if he had to hear him moaned another woman's name. Because finally, finally , he got what he wanted. He got him. His treasure, his flame, the love of his life.