Albus Potter was practically falling asleep as his psychology teacher drone on. It wasn't that he did not like psychology or his professor, but that he had a late night the previous night. It had been long and tiring, although he did have a great dinner at the Ritz; the food was scrumptious and the woman he had accompanied was beautiful even if she wasn't polite or fun. Besides, for two hundred pounds, he'd do it again.

He realized with a start that the lecture was over and Polly was coming towards him. He jumped from his seat, packed his bag and ran out of the class without so much as glancing towards her. He knew that most people would consider this rude but he simply did want to spend any time with her, so he did not understand why he should pretend otherwise. He ran into the bustling hallways, pushing his way through the hoards of people. He checked his watch to see that it was ten o'clock, it was the best thong about having a class at seven in the morning. Even if he didn't get enough sleep, he got the entire day to catch up. It also help him in his work.

He finally got out of the hallway and ran towards the parking lot to his. His car, a Ford Angela, was light blue and old; technically it wasn't even his car, his uncles George and Charlie had fixed up his grandfathers old car for his eighteenth birthday two years ago. He wasn't complaining though, the fact that he had a car, his own car without having to spend his savings was something he was extremely thankful for. He reached it, threw his bag inside, got inside himself and started driving. Half way through, his phone started ringing but he drove on, ignoring it, he had to finish the assignments that he was behind on, had to prepare a bunch of power point presentations that were due in two weeks and had to prepare for exams that were nearly two months away.

He sighed in relief when he saw the words River Park, drove inside and parked in front of his apartment building, it wasn't posh, but at least it wasn't falling apart, like the last place he stayed in. He grabbed his bag and ran inside through the rain. When he entered the lobby of the building, he realized something rather odd was going on.

He excused himself as he pushed past them; ignoring their nasty looks, as if he was personally responsible for whatever it was that had occurred in the building. Suddenly a hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him into the front of the crowd. It was his landlord.

"What's going on?"

"There was a fire at your apartment." Albus stilled.

"What?" He asked incredulously.

"You left your hair dryer on. And there was spark in the switch, which caught fire." He said matter-of-factly.

"My….my stuff!"

"Most of it has burnt, although they are trying to save whatever they can. This is what I get for renting an apartment to an ignorant queer." Ignoring the jab against his sexuality and the painful grip on his wrist, Albus turned to face his landlord fully.

"But what about my books? And clothes? Money?"

"What do I know? But you are paying for this." Albus felt indignation rise within him as he ripped his, now sore and possibly bruised wrist from his landlord's hand.

"No, I'm not." Some of the people gathered around them moved back as if he was getting ready to shock them. At 5'11, Albus was tall and his teenage years which were spent training in kickboxing, had left him with a physique that was impressive and intimidating.

"Yes, you are. If it wasn't for your queer habits-"

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me. What does it matter if I'm gay?" Which I'm not, by the way, I'm bisexual." He honestly did not know why he was screaming this in his landlords face in the lobby where his entire building could hear him. He blamed it on lack of sleep and testosterone. That's what Teddy said after a fight with Victorie. "How does me being gay affect whether or not there was a fire at my apartment? I didn't know apartments spontaneously caught fire when a bisexual guy walked in."

"Don't be stupid boy, of course it doesn't spontaneously catch fire. But what normal man do you know that uses a hair dryer?"

"My brother does."

"Yes, well if he's your brother, then there isn't much of a chance of him being normal."

"Well, that is a bit true, James is far too big-headed to be normal." His landlord scoffed.

"James Potter, your brother, the dreams and delusions you have."

"Look, let's have this argument later, first finish our other argument. I'm not paying for the repairs. You should be paying me for the damages. How many times have I told you to send a damn electrician to the –"

"Don't you dare blame this on me boy, this is all your fault."

"Mr. Peasgood, are you related to a Vernon Dursley?" It probably wasn't best to ask this question at this time, but the resemblance was far too compelling for Albus to keep quiet about it. His landlord spluttered for a moment, before gaining his wits, well, whatever wits he had.

"Don't you dare change the topic. You're paying for the repairs, that's it. Or you can leave, and say goodbye to your deposit as well."

"No way-" Before he could complete his statement, his landlord had left. People looked on before he turned and glared at them, his green eyes icy and cold, after which they scattered away. He went upstairs to his small, one bedroom apartment to see the damage the fire had caused.

The door was open and looked broken, the firemen were trying to salvage everything they could. He met their head who told him that the fire had started due to his blow dryer. They had dried everything and had piled up whatever had escaped the damage. He walked into the hall where his books were, half burnt, half soaked, the furniture in the living room was fine and the kitchen was more or less unharmed. His bedroom however, was destroyed. The sheets were burnt, there was soot on the wall and as he had left his cupboard open in a hurry that morning, most of his clothes had burnt. As he inspected the cupboard, he realized that only his underwear hadn't burnt.

"So Ben," he asked as he found the fireman he had spoken to before, "how much is it going to cost to fix this?"

"We won't be able to give you a definitive price till after the work is over."

"So give me an estimate."

"It will take around four thousand pounds."

Albus fell on his bed. He didn't have any savings, his insurance had expired and after the fight he had with Rose, his cousin, he was not going to ask his father to repair the apartment. His landlord was an arse who would not let him stay here if he didn't pay for the repairs. He would have to work for the money.

"Okay. What do I do now?"

"Is there anyplace you can stay?"

"My brothers house."

"Well, you should pack whatever is usable and stay with your brother. It will take around four weeks to fix the apartment."

"Okay."

"Four weeks?" James asked incredulously as Kate, James' wife, handed him a glass of water.

"Yeah, so is it okay if I stay here?"

"Sure, but you should know that housekeeper left the job, so if you could do that-" James said with a grin before Kate cut him off.

"James! He's kidding Albus, our housekeeper hasn't left yet, and you don't have to do anything. You can stay here for as long as you want."

"She doesn't mean that, Alby-"

"Don't call me that."

"I do mean it." Albus nodded at his sister in law before taking a look around the house. As James was played for the England's National Football team, his house was, well, extravagant. It was a penthouse with floor to ceiling windows that gave a direct view of the Big Ben, had six bedrooms and bathrooms and was basically fit for Prince Harry.

"Thanks a lot."

"Don't thank me until you've used the hair dye." James said as he got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"James!" Albus wondered how Kate still had her voice after all the screaming she did, courtesy of his brother.

"Sorry luv, I meant shampoo." Kate turned towards him seriously but Albus beat her to it.

"Don't worry, I won't use it till after you've replaced it."

"Okay. Anyway, I'll have dinner in a few minutes. Why don't you freshen up, I've laid out out some of James' clothes for you.

"Sure, thanks."

"It's nothing." Albus picked up his duffel bag and walked up the stairs. His room was spacious, there was a queen sized bed, the foot of which had a Persian rug, mahogany cupboards, a dressing table and a new pair of clothes. Just as he was about to change, his phone rang and he picked it up without checking the caller I.D.

"Hello."

"Is this Albus Potter?" A man's voice inquired from the other end.

"Yes, who is this?"

"Mr. Potter, I'm Scorpius Malfoy, I heard about you and your services from an….acquaintance of mine." Albus felt his jaw drop as he heard the smooth and sophisticated voice on the other line. He was sure it was the personification of sin.

"And you require my services?" He asked with a confidence he wasn't sure he had.

"Yes, I need you to come with me to Scotland the next week"

"For the entire week?"

"Yes."

"I'm afraid I'm preoccupied."

"Why don't we meet in person, Mr. Potter, I'm sure I can persuade you to be completely free the next week.

"I highly doubt it, Mr. Malfoy."

"I insist."

"Very well, we'll meet and discuss this in person."

"How about Wednesday? At around seven in the evening."

"I'm quite sure I'll be free."

"Good, The Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park. Ask for me." Before he could respond the line was dead.