"Come on, Scorpius." Albus tugged at the other boy's hand as he dragged him down to the shore of the lake.

Scorpius fought the pull. "This is a bad idea, I know it." He glanced warily at the crooked trees that grew by the edges of the lake, their roots like long fingers clinging to the wet and crumbling bank.

"It's not a bad idea. I've been down here dozens, well, lots of times."

"At night?"

"Well, no but…just look at that moon."

Scorpius canted his head up and stared at the bright white moon. Albus' face shone, hopeful, under it. Scorpius considered. He could follow Albus down to the lake – or wherever they were going – and see Albus' face light up with that amazing smile of his. Or he could back out now.

Scorpius looked down, watching Albus' smile slowly fade, feeling his grip lessen. He stepped closer, and nearly slipped on the soft earth. He pulled himself quickly back up and brushed past Albus, towards the lake.

"Let's go then."

He heard Albus' sharp bark of a laugh behind him, and the thud of his steps.

"Not there."

He pulled Scorpius back and along the side of the lake. They stumbled over roots and through mud, and after the first few moments Scorpius managed to stop grimacing at his shoes and the hem of his robes, and focused on the glint of Albus' glass in the dim light.

"Wh—" he began to ask, but just then Albus turned sharply and he swung around after the brunette. They took a few more steps, stumbling uphill, and then they stopped.

Albus pulled him close, causing Scorpius to catch his breath. Then he was turned around to look out over the lake.

Albus had dragged him into a small clearing – a little plateau of moss supported by roots and covered with moss – looking directly out over the lake. Its waters sparkled as they shifted and moved.

It was stunning.

"So, do you like it?" Albus asked.

Scorpius whirled on him and saw Albus' started eyes before he leaned down and pulled him into a kiss. Albus sighed and smiled against his mouth, so Scorpius pushed closer, pulling Albus close against him.

Albus' lips were dry and soft, and though they had done this many times before, he felt his arousal surge dizzyingly. He sank, almost unwillingly, to the ground, pulling Albus after him.

The moss was soft and damp, soaking immediately through his robes.

Albus leaned down on him, his weight making Scorpius weak and bearing him down to the ground. He shifted, straining against his own desire. He didn't want to come too quickly, to throw himself up against Albus' slim body with complete abandon until he came apart completely.

Albus, breathing hard, pulled back slightly. His eyes were dark and shadow as he stared down, and Scorpius tried desperately to remember when Albus had pushed him down onto his back; when he had wedged his knees between Scorpius' legs, holding them apart.

But he couldn't remember. His thoughts were as tangled as a skein of embroidery thread. His body was knotted with desire. His erection was already fully hard, straining against his clothing. He reached down with shaking fingers to unbutton his robes – throw them off and open – but his fingers just fumbled and fell away.

Albus was far ahead of him there. His fingers were steady, though his eyes wide, as he reached down and slipped the buttons out of Scorpius' robes. He pushed them back and reached for Scorpius' trousers – as he did so, Scorpius reached up and seized the back of his neck, pulling him down.

They kissed again, mouths open and hot. Albus's fingers subsided, clumsy now with want.

His body fell low over Scorpius, his chest brushing against Scorpius', arched and panting. He wriggled, and his trousers slipped down, exposing his erection to cold air. He gasped at the sudden shock of sensation.

One of Albus' fingers touched him, icy in the chill night. He gasped into the kiss, feeling his voice go high. The finger – just one, and when had Albus learned to do that – ran gently up the length of his cock. He keened at the feeling and his eyes flew wide.

Albus was staring down at him, having broken the kiss without Scorpius noticing. "Albus," he breathed, staring into his dark eyes, wide and shadowed with desire.

"Oh, Scorpius." He smiled back, and his finger slid back down Scorpius' cock. Scorpius cried out and arched violently. He saw Albus fall backwards, thrown off by the movement, and with his last sense of sanity, Scorpius mourned. He had thrown Albus off. His finger would stroke no more.

Despite his disappointment, he was relieved. The pleasure had been so intense that he didn't know how much more he could have taken. But the finger came back, and then, oh, another finger.

But, where was Albus? It didn't make sense, and Scorpius' mind wasn't up to the task of processing the information.

Distantly, there was a voice, crying out. "Scorpius! Scorpius, what!"

And he knew then that the finger was not a finger, but a long, thick band of muscle, cold and wet. It wound its way up and around Scorpius' leg and the tip caressed his cock. Another tentacle stretched up his other leg, and as he felt the movement, it wrapped itself like a python around his waist, and began pulling him along the ground towards the lake.

Alarm began to flood Scorpius, mixing with his desire and sharp lust. Albus crouched over him, pulling at him, but to no avail. The tentacles flicked up, out of the lake, and around Albus as well.

The two were pressed together, bound by the tentacles. The soft moss dragged beneath them, soft and textured over the roots. With every bump and jolt, desire still ran like a soft shock through Scorpius.

His fear of what was happening began to fail as Albus fought the bounds, unwittingly writhing against Scorpius, building his passion once more. And so, as one writhing and tormented bundle, they were dragged beneath the cold waters of the lake.