Title: Don't Hold Me Too Close (Prologue)
Author: hfmalfoy
Rating: R.
Warnings: May become slightly emo with the amount of moping around but let's hope it's not too much!
Disclaimer: I own a towel with Harry's face on it.
Summary: Albus Potter now works for the Ministry of Magic. In fact he works in an office with Scorpius Malfoy. After work Scorpius goes on dates with his girlfriend. Albus likes to go drink firewhisky on his own. It's perfectly healthy, or so he tells himself. Scorpius decides to take action into his own hands. He graces Albus with company one night. And the consequences go to show that there's a reason Albus drinks alone. What happens after that...well...it sure messes with Albus' head.
Don't Hold Me Too Close
"Love, unrequited, robs me of my rest:
Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers:
Love, nightmare-like, lies heavy on my chest,
And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers!" William S. Gilbert
Prologue
Al remembered it like it was yesterday. The beads of sweat on his forehead and the way his tousled curls of black hair stuck to his temples as he swallowed a hard lump and took those daunting steps towards the aging sorting hat. Professor Valentine, head of Gryffindor and potions master stood behind the stool. The hall had gone quiet just as it had previously for his brother James and before that his father harry. Suspension. His brother stood up, stretching like a meerkat to see the glorious moment. Al, like in slow motion sat down and bit on his lower lip as the hat was lowered to his thick black hair.
"Hm...another Potter, eh?" it croaked into Albus's ear. "Wait...it seems you have something to say..."
"Oh...I ... I'd like to be in Gryffindor, please..." Albus remembered squeaking out quietly, timidly. He didn't see the point in being rude to the battered old hat.
"No...I have a much better plan..." Albus remembered biting his lip harder, looking over to his big brother who was grinning goofily to him. "SLYTHERIN!"
The first thing Albus saw was his brother's horror, eyes wide, mouth dropping as he slid back into his seat.
Albus was too shocked to argue, letting the red-haired head of Slytherin lead him to the Slytherin table. He shook, sitting down, mismatched eyes wide.
Then he remembered a pale hand reach out to him.
"Hello, I'm Scorpius Malfoy, were going to be great friends!" he smirked, pale grey eyes shining.
Albus yawned, sitting back in his office chair, staring up at the ceiling. He scratched his freckled nose and then sat up, looking to the pile of paperwork on his desk. He looked over to his partner's desk and inhaled sharply. That bastard had finished up already. There was definite resentment there but it was still playful. He sighed, separating the top quarter of the pile and dropping down on the desk in front of him. He picked up the top file and opened it. Oddly it was signed off 'Scorpius Malfoy'. Albus was starting to wonder if the even
bigger pile was his and he'd picked up the wrong one. He reached for the second file down and opened it. Signed off 'Scorpius Malfoy'. So he looked to the other pile, sighing slightly and opening it up. It was signed off. By…you guessed it! 'Scorpius Malfoy'!
The corners of Albus's lips curled up slightly and he chuckled, running a hand through his tangled mess of dark hair. He'd done it all. Perfect Malfoy. Always getting the job done. But never leaving anything for him. He turned around in his chair, taking his robe off the back of it and standing up, slipping it on. He grabbed his wand from his desk and stuffed it into the back pocket of his trousers. He'd have to thank Scorpius later, after his date with Rose.
Albus Severus Potter, however, didn't have such glamorous arrangements for the evening. He hadn't planned to be able to escape the office so quickly and he definitely didn't have someone he could call up at such late notice for a quick date. Or a quick shag. No. That was Scorpius' thing. Not Albus's. Albus checked his watch and after a thoughtful nip of his lower lip decided that he would take this opportunity to enjoy a glass of chilled firewhiskey at the local pub. His green eyes twinkled slightly at that thought, sad as it was, but now was not time for calculating life choices. He sighed, making to the door out of the ministry office he shared with Scorpius Malfoy. He looked back at his own messy desk and Scorpius' tidy one and furrowed his brow very slightly. On the desk sat a framed pictured of a pretty, arrogant black-haired girl with high cheekbones and full, pursed lips. It was Scorpius' girlfriend; Prudence Parkinson. She had a horrible and rather outdated pureblood vanity to her, something that had died out considerably since the war years ago. The picture would smile and wave coyly when Scorpius was around but when it was just Albus the image turned sour, sometimes swearing, smirking or scowling. Albus had learned to ignore it. It still annoyed him sometimes though. Like now. So he turned off the light, smiling to himself as he imagined the annoyance on the face in the frame. That ought to teach her!
Albus decided to check in on his father in the Head Auror office, knocking softly on the mahogany wood door. There was a disgruntled request to enter from inside and Albus poked his head around the door.
"Hey, Dad…" Albus smiled lopsidedly, waving casually.
"Al! Hey! You want to join me?" Harry asked, smiling slightly goofily, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"No, I'm just off, wanted to say goodbye…" Al smiled, noticing the amount of work on his father's desk. "I'll see you on Sunday…don't work too late!"
"Goodnight, son," smiled Harry, watching his son disappear.
Albus stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked towards the main entrance downstairs, aiming for a fireplace so he could get out of here quick. So he could get something warm down his throat that would make his guts feel fuzzy and like one fiery cavern inside of his torso. He smiled to himself as he walked down the hallways he was so familiar with. And then he wondered whether it was the alcohol that gave him those warm, rich feelings in his abdomen. Or whether it was the person he tended to think about once he'd got to that stage.