Chapter 1:

His eyes. Beautiful, stunning, electric green caught mine, stopping me in my tracks. I could not look away, I would not look away, I could never look away from those glistening intense eyes that haunted my dreams. Not haunted, enlightened, illuminated my bedtime visions, causing me to feel complete bliss. When I woke up from my nighttime wonders, the world was unrealistic and boring, unrealistically boring. But then he looked at me, and I felt whole. Not just whole, complete in every way. He stared into my soul, reawakening memories of him from dreams and otherwise, stopping my heart, not letting me breathe. For those amazing seconds, neither of us moved, dragged in air, the pools of emerald green drenching me with their beauty, cutting off any other circulation of my body.

And then he looked away,

Turned,

Left me there, still as stone, hardly alive, and moved on down the now crowded halls.

I was alone, empty, broken.

I choked on air as it tried to move down my throat, my own blue grey eyes began to burn and wetness pooled at the tip of my eyelid. You stupid baby. I reprimanded myself Malfoys don't cry, no they don't, not at all. I'm no Hufflepuff. Slytherin, strong, sexy, proud, nothing fazes me, nothing, not even Father. But I couldn't even convince myself, Malfoys do cry, Father was wrong. I ran to the nearest classroom and locked the wooden door behind me with an ancient spell of my grandfather's.

I threw myself on the floor in the corner, wrapped my skinny pale arms around myself and allowed the tears to streak down my face repeatedly, not bothering to wipe them away, staining my stupidly expensive clothes Mother insisted on. Not that I cared.

Albus Fucking Potter was ruining my life and yet I couldn't get him away. My mind always reverted to whenever I was tied, sick, upset, and focused on the astonishing details of the sixteen year old. His eyes, the most confusingly intriguing part of him; the unruly hair which made his god like features glow even more; the way he walked; how his lips moved when he cast a spell, how they would feel against my own if he would let me; his chiseled chest, slender yet muscular from the hours and hours he put into Quidditch training.

I would never, could never look as good as he did, act as tough and caring as he was, or treat the most terrible things with solemn respect that he showed daily to his many admirers, housemates, and me, since I was an enemy, not that I wanted to be, that was Father's fault. I hated him for that.

How could he have even gotten into Slytherin? He was more suited for a Ravenclaw, like me, or a Gryffindor, like Rosie and Lily and James and whoever else belonged to his ever-expanding Weasley-Potter family his father had built.

Through the years we had attended school, we were not friends, not that we ever were. We were not enemies, but the past between his father and mine impressed on us greatly. It would have been like the muggle's play Romeo and Juliet, if he thought about me the way I fantasized about him. Of course, it wasn't anything like that. He was obnoxiously heterosexual whereas I was totally and hopelessly bent. If he had asked, I would have been his in an instant. I slept around somewhat, if that's even the right word. I was more like a toy, I allowed people to use me for their desires as well as mine. I wanted to feel wanted, they just wanted to get rid of sexual tension, usually. Sometimes I enjoyed it, going back for seconds, or even thirds, but I pretended they were Albus Potter so that I could pleasure them correctly, using my imagination to allow them to release pent up aggressing and such.

Suddenly a bell rang from somewhere inside the belly of the castle, rattling the floor slightly. I was going to be late for Charms if I went, but I wasn't. I couldn't get those awe-inspiring green eyes out of my head. My eyes were still puffy and bloodshot, if I made an appearance at the class people would know I had been crying and they would think I was weak. Malfoys were not weak. No one would notice my absence.

Though I was a Ravenclaw, Father's reputation stuck with me. It didn't help me that I looked like him except that I was a little taller, leaner, and considerably more handsome than he had been. My hair, feminine in its blond silkiness, looked just like his. I shortened mine. Because of the fact that we were almost identical in appearance, teachers were constantly looking at me weirdly, students stayed away from me, even the headmistress, McGonagall, talked to me like I was a bomb just waiting to be set off.

My mother and I were in a verbal battle most of the time I was with her. She always found something to say about the way I walked, my silver earring, and my grades. If she wasn't yelling at me she wasn't happy. My father just sat in a chair, watching with sad eyes. He never defended me, I knew he wanted to, but he didn't. I wonder why him and Mother haven't divorced yet, but I guess it has something to do with their stupid pureblood pride. I always heard them fighting, I knew they weren't meant for each other and since it wasn't an arranged marriage, it guess it wasn't their fault. Adults are idiots.

I decided to stay in the desolate room, letting my mind wander endlessly, day dreaming about Albus Severus… and the things he could do to me. Imagining his arms on my hips, along my back, my neck, scratching, scaring me, making me his. I could almost feel the fast kisses along my spine, the way his tongue would drift out of his parted lips and lick my neck before nibbling, marking me. No one would say I wasn't his. My black skinny jeans were suddenly too tight. My erect sex organ pressed against the fabric, struggling to be free. I didn't wait. As I cradled it in one hand, testicles in the other, I filled my brain with images of Potter…. Albus. I told myself it was his hand that was pumping up and down, that he was leaning over me, bringing me closer and closer to mind-blowing orgasm.

I screamed his name when I came, shooting over my already drenched clothing. I couldn't move or think. My heart was doing double time and I felt waves of tiredness crashing over me. I slumped back against the wall, breathing heavily now. I had never wanked myself into this kind of oblivion before. But then, Potter had never looked at me that way, ever. I got excited just thinking about him but sleepiness clouded my mind and I could not even reform a proper cleaning spell.

Randomly I wondered what time it was, not that it mattered. I wasn't going anywhere. I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of the castle and slowly darkness encased me, dragging me into yet another dream.

"Scorpius!" I jerked awake and away from the hand that was touching my shoulder.

"Who's that?" I asked, my mouth sounded dry and I looked down at myself. My pants and hem of my shirt were crusty and I looked around for my wand. He held it out to me.

"Albus Potter, are you ok?"

"Shit, Potter, what do you want?" I cleaned myself and stood up unsteadily.

"Wow… Scorpius… you look… are you ok?"

"Shut up and leave me alone." He lifted a hand to my hair, brushing the recently shagged look away. I sigh and moved away, "I'm serious, Potter, what do you want?" I tried to control my thoughts but they were going crazy.

Bringing me out of my thought, Albus explained, "You weren't in Charms or Herbology and I'm guessing Potions, but we don't have it at the same time, so I wasn't sure… when you weren't at dinner, no one went looking for you and I remembered… um… seeing you in the hallway before Charms… so I went looking for you… I guess I found you." He grinned shyly.

"You didn't have to Al- Potter, I mean Potter, why do you care anyway?" My voice was cold and menacing, why did I say that? It wasn't like he was being mean to me or anything. God, I'm such an idiot.

"I just… no one seemed to care that you were missing… your own house, um" he stopped talking. I looked up and realized I had just let out a small sob. "I didn't mean… um, I'm sorry… I should go…" He began to drift away and I felt my stomach drop and before I could stop myself,

"No! Stay… please." I. Am. An. Idiot. But he just nodded and set next to me. We were still in the silence and the dark room seemed to spin around me as I felt his presence. It might have been minutes, hours, or days and I did nothing, not wanting it to end. If I died that very moment, at least he would have been next to me.

"You know… I… I don't hate you." He broke the quietness; I stared at him. He merely nodded and I didn't know what to say. My vocal chords seemed to have failed me, but after several attempts I was able to say

"I don't hate you either." We stared at each other for a few seconds until finally I needed air, looked away, and inhaled noisily.

"Well I guess I should formally introduce myself. Hi, I'm Albus Severus Potter. My parents might get a divorce. My father is the Great Harry Potter and hates it. I'm in Slytherin, but I don't fit in. I like books and the spring and dreaming." He stuck out his hand and I took it, marveling at its warmth.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Ravenclaw, shy, no friends, sad father who hates his life and is in love with a man." Weird how alike we are, "I like dreaming, too, sometimes I'm too caught up in it and I can't tell the difference between that and reality." I love you, your eyes, hands, the way you talk, I want you I need you. I thought to myself, wishing I could pour it out to him.

I stared into his shimmering emerald eyes and tried to use my own grey eyes to transfer my inner monologue into him. He just smiled at me and all the tension that I did not realize I possessed left me, my knees felt weak, my body like jelly, and my face bloomed red.

I plucked up my courage and looked at him again, "Do you want to be friends?" I sighed, my breath taking my confidence away with it, "I mean, of course you don't have to… um, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

For a second I thought he was going to walk away, face scrunched up in disgust, but he smirked at me, his inner Slytherin showing through his mask and suddenly, I couldn't feel the ground beneath my feet and there were arms around me. I couldn't breathe, my brain working overtime and could not work out what had just happened. Albus Potter was hugging me, my face on his muscled shoulder, glasses askew. I could feel every curve of his chest pressing against my rather skinny one, his hair walling into my face. Strawberries and honey met my nose. I had never smelt anything more potent or lovely. I shut my eyes and allowed myself to open my senses, but too soon cold spread through me, he moved a few inches and something in my heart shifted.

"Sorry, you looked like you needed a hug… and since we're Friends and all… you smell good, like mint and lemon," he chuckled nervously.

"Thank you, you were right, I needed a hug," I assured him, hoping I had said the right thing. Silence greeted my ears and I looked at my black converse sneakers, wishing I could melt into the marble below my feet.

"So um, do you want my Charms notes? Since you weren't there." I nodded and there was a flurry of movement and suddenly a few pieces of parchment were trust into my hands, "and Herbology notes too."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Hey, you're probably hungry. I know where the kitchen entrance is, we could go and get some food…" I smiled slightly, "Alright, come on!" he grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door. We walked through the corridors and hallways, down stairs, and under archways until we reached a painting of a fruit bowl. I was confused but then he reached out a finger and tickled the pear. The painting opened to reveal a kitchen full of house elves moving around preparing delicious smelling food. Albus called out to one of them and asked for two plates of that night's dinner. The ridiculously clothed elf returned with a tray laden with dishes piled high with chicken, mashed potatoes, salad, roast beef, Sheppard's pie, and more. The elf introduced himself as Dobby and led us to an unoccupied corner.

We ate slowly, Albus asking me questions and me trying to answer as best as possible. Dobby brought us dessert and tea. My stomach was aching, but I didn't want to stop eating because if I did, there would be less time to talk to the Slytherin. All too soon, however, the plates were clean, my stomach felt like I had swallowed a brick and Albus stood up.

He walked me to the door of the Ravenclaw dormitories and told me he'd see me tomorrow. I smiled the whole time, even as he walked away. When I was alone, I walked into the common room and threw myself onto a shabby armchair by the dying fire and closed my eyes.

I woke in a cold sweat. The sun had barely risen past the clouds. I moved quickly up the marble steps to my bed, quietly so as to not wake up my dorm-mates, and sat down on the edge, hugging my knees close. Tonight, or rather last night could not possibly be real. My imagination had gone over the top, I was moving on to full on hallucinations, but it had to be real. I could not have made up what Albus said to me. Him going to Slytherin because his father's choice of Gryffindor led him to depression and an imposing divorce (at least that's how he saw it; his inability to cast a complete Patronus; how whenever he was thinking, he bit his lip.

We had talked about many things, but most just mixed together in an incoherent steam of words flowing from Albus' beautiful mouth.

I remembered confessing my fear of the dark and small places and my ownership of a now ripped and old bunny rabbit teddy that had been my faithful companion when Father went to ministry functions and left me behind.

I could not over Albus' kindness, it was scary kind of, how fast he accepted me into his life. I wondered out of nowhere if it was some Slytherin plot to get my father back for his lack of support to Death Eaters. No, Albus was a nice person, he wouldn't do something so horrid or maybe he wished to find out my secrets and spill them to the world, eternally embarrassing me. No, stop, he's the first friend you've ever had. I need to trust him. My conscious was reassuring me, caressing me inner turmoil, soothing it.

Two hours until breakfast, two hours until I was to find out the tall Slytherin's intentions. I showered, drifting under the light pressure of the miniscule droplets. I picked and repicked my outfit, finally settling on jeans and a white shirt under my robes. My blond hair ruffled and my earring sparkling. Slight eyeliner on my eyes and I was ready.

Being friendless allowed me to dress as I wanted and act as I wanted. I did not care anymore about the weirded-out stared I received for my make up or dragon-skin boots. I didn't have to pretend in this place, I could be myself. That was the only reason I had not runaway and moved to America as I had planned so many times in my various daydreams. Well, that and the prospect of seeing Albus Potter every day, even if he sneered at me, barely looked at me, until yesterday. I wished, I hoped, I prayed to some god I didn't believe in that Albus was actually my friend.

I walked down to the Great Hall alone. As I passed various classmates, I caught snatches of conversations all pertaining to one thing, Albus Potter. From what I could understand, he had skived off his classes in search of someone and then didn't return to his dorm until after hours. People thought it was a girl and pestered him to try and get a name out of him, but he had escaped and no one was any wiser that they had been before. No one suspected that it was a boy, or that it was a Malfoy or that we were friends. I relaxed a bit at that bit of news and continued on my way, blocking out the soft conversations of my peers.

Sitting at the end of my house table, I grabbed a jar of orange juice and poured it into my goblet. It was a muggle drink, but pumpkin juice repulsed me, so this was the only alternative other than milk, which made me sick. Next I grabbed an almost burned piece of toast and a glob of butter, then a bowl of fruit with vanilla yogurt on the side. Before I could even get the fork towards my plate, I felt the cushioned bench beneath me shift slightly as someone sat down beside me. I was about to tell them to sod off, but as I turned, I realized it was Albus.

"Al- Potter, what are you doing?" I hissed at him, finally feeling the hundreds of eyes that were glaring at my back. I speared a strawberry and lifted it to my mouth, allowing its bitter sweetness to coat my lips before popping it in and chewing. He just smiled and stole a cantaloupe square.

"I wanted to sit next to you." He smiled and then began loading his plate with eggs, toast, bacon, and some of my fruit. Before he tucked into his morning feast, he nudged me slightly, in a playful way. I swear my heart felt like it was going to explode. He was so close, his eyes still looking at me curiously while he stuffed bits of food into his mouth. His pupils dilated a little and I had to convince myself it was just the food. "You can call my Al, you know, I don't mind. I'll call you Scorp and we'll be even." Smiling, I nodded and tried it.

"Al." It sounded funny on my tongue, like it belonged there, like I had said it before.

"Scorp. See, it works. And I like it better this way. Neither of us can really be defined by out last names, so yeah… Hi."

I gulped down the mouthful of juice I had just poured into my mouth and choked out a hello. He smiled and it reached his eyes, making him look more like a god than a human.

"So….Scorp, what do we have next?"

Author's Note: this is the first chapter of a AS/S story I'm writing and it's the first one, ever, so all reviews are appreciated, but not necessary, seeing as I will continue to write it anyway :) hope you enjoyed it