Telling his father he was in love with another boy had been hard. Of course. His father had been raised by muggles, and while he tried his best to remain open-minded about things so common to them as same-sex couples, his muggle-based raising would sometimes show its face in the uncomfortable curling of his lips.
Fortunately for Albus, his brother James had smiled at him and taken his hand in his, standing proud and happy as he told their father both of them had fallen in love with boys and were not about to change because of his ill-informed muggle preconceptions.
Harry had stared at his sons with wide green eyes for a minute, maybe more, Albus couldn't tell, before smiling a little and patting their heads with warm hands.
"Will I get to meet this mysterious boys?" he asked simply. And while James nodded enthusiastically, Albus flushed hotly and shook his head.
And he was forced to explain he was in love with a boy from another house that literally hated his guts and had no issue telling him so. Not even with all his clever, Slytherin scheming had his crush succumbed to his charm.
James and Harry looked at each other.
"But it's just a matter of time," Albus assured his father and older brother.
James laughed out loud and wrapped an arm around Albus' shoulders, already planning all the things him and his boyfriend could do to help his unfortunate little Alby, while Harry sighed and offered a bottle of Butter Beer to each of his boys to celebrate and offer that, if both of them behaved that summer he might share a tip or two with them.
It had all gone exceedingly well for the Potter males. The bond between Albus, James and their father had strengthened considerably, especially now that their mother had left the house and taken Lilly with her.
They all knew she would be back home for Christmas but it just wasn't the same without their cheerful little sister around.
Albus had spent many nights wide awake under his covers, his eyes clenched shut and his hand fisting his erect cock roughly, pumping and squeezing while he imagined his mouth kissing and biting his beloved's soft skin, and the way those amazing silver eyes – no, not silver, light blue - would stare at him in adoration, like he had always wanted, instead of fear and disgust, and how that soft tenor voice – no, not tenor, a deep baritone - would plead for him, for his touch, how those hands he spent hours staring at would reach out for him longingly.
With a gasp, Albus came, biting his lips and burying his face on his pillow, his chest heavy and his heart beating so fast that he thought it was going to open a hole in his chest.
And as he managed to steady his breathing back into normalcy and his shaky hands reached for one of his dirty t-shirts to wipe off the semen from his hairless chest, he imagined the man he had come to love staring at him with tenderness and snuggling under his arm to sleep, feeling safe and warm and protected just like Albus wanted, while James and his boyfriend – who was, most likely, Teddy – would grin at them and mutter a joke or two before leaving them alone in their little sanctuary.
But then, as in all fairy tales, something had to go wrong.
A few days before they both had to return no Hogwarts, his brother asked his father whether he could bring his boyfriend home, introduce him and maybe have him stay the night. Harry had laughed amusedly and patted his first-born's red head.
"Sure thing, son," he had said happily. "Should we prepare something special for him?"
Albus rolled his eyes a little, wondering why on earth did James had to do all this theater when Teddy was always more than welcome to their home. Their Dad would be so happy to know his little godson was his son's birthday. He would probably go all Gryffindor about family and how they were getting so much closer to Ted.
Sometimes Albus regretted being the only Slytherin in their home.
James had then spent the whole night sitting by the fireplace, chatting away with his boyfriend and planning their date.
And that same week James came home with Scorpius Malfoy, Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and current DADA prodigy hanging from his arm, a wide smile on his pretty face and his long blond hair brushed to perfection.
Harry had stared for a second, uncomprehending.
"You are… a Gryffindor, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked as soon as James finished counting off Scorpius' accomplishments.
The blond nodded happily.
"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Potter," he said lightly, offering his hand. "My father has told me so much about you."
Harry was about to scratch the back of his head uncomfortably as he always did when someone complimented him, but then realized whose child he was talking to.
"I hope you've heard good things about me, too," he joked, shaking the boy's hand.
Scorpius laughed musically.
"Of course, sir," he answered, his hand idly stroking James' arm. "Once you learn how to translate my father's Slytherin slang you realize he thinks quite fondly of you."
James laughed harder when his dad's face flushed hotly. Scorpius grinned at him, kissing his cheek as Harry ushered them all to the dining room.
"See? It wasn't so bad, love," Scorpius whispered to James, his eyes shining.
"I know. I guess I was just nervous," the redhead admitted, kissing his blushing boyfriend's cheek and neck.
Harry turned from them with a smile, only to find his younger son staring out of the window, his eyes wide and face pale.
"Albus?" he asked, placing a hand on his boy's shoulder.
The boy turned to him, his eyes misty.
"Is it ok if I skip this meal, Dad?" he said softly. "I don't want to be a third wheel."
"What will you do then?" Harry said, running a hand through his son's soft hair. He wasn't comfortable with his son's distressed expression.
"I think I'll go check on my own future-boyfriend. Would it be ok if I drag him back here? Maybe he'll feel like giving me a chance if he sees Malfoy is here?" Albus' voice was shaking, Harry could tell, but he had learnt long ago that questioning his son would only cause him to close off even more.
"Yeah, you do that, Al," Harry whispered finally, kissing the boy's forehead. "You know you can count on me, right?"
"Sure thing, Dad," the boy replied, a tight smile stretching his lips that, sadly, couldn't reach his green eyes. "I'll see you before bedtime, ok?"
Harry nodded and watched his son floo away, his hand clenching as he could already imagine what Albus' problem was.
"James, where's my favorite snake?" Scorpius asked, making his boyfriend peer from the diningroom's door.
"Right! Dad, where's Al?" he asked. Harry forced a cheerful smile onto his face and walked towards the young couple.
"He said something about dragging his love-interest here or die trying," he laughed, thanking Kreacher as the house-elf server their diner.
Scorpius huffed a little, a teasing smile curling his lips prettily.
"I hope whoever he is courting has half a brain," he muttered amusedly. James laughed and held the blond's hand through the whole evening.
Albus, on the other hand, wondered the streets of Diagon Alley slowly, his eyes fixed on his blurry shoes and the way drops of moisture fell on them periodically.
He could still remember the first time he had spotted the blond, almost hiding in the shadows as professor Longbottom called them by name to be sorted. Albus had thought he was so pretty, then, his blond hair and pale skin and the way his pale blue eyes searched around frantically for any source of comfort.
Some other boys had decided he was too short, or too frail, to be a Hogwarts student and they were calling him on his pale complexion and the way his neck was so slender, like a girls. Many other first years laughed, their eyes fixed onto Scorpius' blond hair.
Albus had felt a rage so powerful that he had launched himself towards the bully and had stamped his fist on the boy's nose, knocking him down.
"Say that again, you asshole!?" he snapped, standing protectively before the smaller boy.
The bully stood then, his hand holding his nose.
"What are you doing, Potter, don't you know who this is?" he growled, whipping the blood from his face. "That's Malfoy, his father is a Death Eater. All his family are Dark Wizards! Like Voldemort!"
Rose and Hugo Weasley nodded their agreement, Rose even tried to reason to him, using the whispered advices her father had used at night, when mom was too tired to pay attention. Albus' eyes widened then.
It was just as his own father had warned him when he was little. Some people might try to bully him because of his last name, some might want to be his friends because he was Harry Potter's child.
He would have to choose wisely. Someone he could trust not to try and take advantage of Harry Potter's son.
Maybe someone who was hunted because of his own last name.
Slowly, he had turned towards the blond who was by now brandishing his wand, his eyes narrowed.
"I asure you," he hissed, almost kittenishly at that and Albus thought a boy shouldn't be so terribly cute. "I can take care of my own battles quite well."
Albus felt his cheeks heat as he decidedly grabbed a hold of his new-found friend and dragged him away from the crowd.
"I like you!" he beamed happily. "Let's be friends!"
Scorpius Malfoy had protested with all he had, his face red with anger and embarrassement. But Albus had decided that Scorpius was his, and he wouldn't let go of that small, pale hand for nothing.
Scorpius had been sorted in Gryffindor.
And the hat had laughed into his brain when he had listed all the reasons he needed to be sorted into that house as well.
"Cunning," the hat had laughed. "Interesting. SLYTHERIN!"
And to a completely silent Great Hall, he sulkily dragged his feet towards the green and silver table, where he continued to stare longingly at Scorpius for the rest of the night.
He had created a routine from then on.
Stalk Scorpius Malfoy, offer him his friendship and devotion, his protection even.
Scorpius would raise an eyebrow at him and scoff something about being capable enough to protect himself.
Of course, when Ravenclaws and other Gryffindors bullied the blond, Albus had been witness to the extent to his abilities.
Scorpius fought dirty, that much was obvious, but was clever enough not to leave any magical trace that would lead to him should a professor be close by.
And by Merlin, one of Albus' first fantasies was from the day he had seen the blond stretch his leg up high, so flexibly, just to kick another bully on the nose with his whole boot.
Imagining those flexible legs wrapped around his waist as he trust uncontrollably inside the Gryffindor had fueled his hormones for almost a year.
And then the dreams began, sometimes fantasies of taking Scorpius from behind, in the Great Hall, in the Quidditch locker rooms, in McGonagall's office.
Sometimes Scorpius' red and gold robes morphed into green and silver and the colors fit his pale complexion so much better. And then the dreams turned from sexual to romantic. He would sit by Scorpius, holding his hand and caressing it gently, and they would both share stories from their childhoods and sometimes sneak pastries from the kitchen and share them as they gazed at the stars from the Astronomy Tower. And the pale light of the moon made Scorpius' eyes shine silver and his hair almost ivory white and Albus couldn't think if he had ever met someone more perfect that his school-mate.
And now Albus wanted to go to sleep forever and immerse himself in his dreams to never wake up. Because his precious Scorpius was James', the only person in the world he couldn't steal Scorpius from. His own flesh and blood.
With a choked wail of despair he fell to his knees and started to cry, fat tears streaming down his cheeks and into the dirty streets. His heart was broken.
He wanted to die.
He wanted to be alone forever.
To sink in his own sadness and never have to face Scorpius and James again.
And he wanted for the owner of those shiny leather shoes to move away so he could cry in peace.
A pale hand pated his head and suddenly Albus' field of vision was full of moonlight and silver and cream. A seventeen year old blond boy with the most amazing silver eyes was staring curiously at him while his slender hand patted his hair for any injuries.
"You don't seem hurt," the boy whispered in the most melodious voice Albus had ever heard. "You are definitely not drunk or drugged." A gentle flick of a wand and a lumos and their faces came into focus.
Albus felt like he had finally come home from a long journey. This boy, this blond angel before him was his salvation. He just knew it. This boy could quiet the darkness, the pain. This boy had to be his.
"Green eyes, black hair," the boy counted off. "No scar nor glasses. Definitely Potter's kid."
Albus nodded dumbly, his eyes wide.
"My name is Albus," he croaked, his throat sore. "Albus Severus Potter."
The blond angel raised an amused eyebrow.
"Severus, ironic," he mused. "I guess I will call you Severus."
Oh, Severus had never sounded so sweet as in that moment.
"Sure."
"Stand up, Severus," he said softly. "I'll take you to your place. As I have business without father anyway."
And Albus followed obediently, making sure his hand brushed his angel's as frequently as possible as they walked to the apparition point, and to hold as tight as he could to his slender waist as they both apparated towards Grimauld Place.
Harry greeted them with a raised eyebrow and an embarrassed stare towards Albus' angel.
"I found your son in Diagon Alley," the blond said simply. "Thought you might want him back."
Harry nodded slowly, his eyes going from the blond to Albus and back.
"Thank you," he said.
"You are welcome," the teen answered. "Your wife signed the permissions as per agreement, by the way. Lily studies at Beauxbatton but spends all holidays with you and your sons."
Harry's face positively glowed as he received the pieces of parchment from the blond.
"I don't know how you managed, really," he said in awe. Albus stared at them, feeling a little left out. Did his father know his little angel?
How come he had never mentioned him before?
"I just know where to push," the blond shrugged. "And next time you need legal advice, Potter, please ask Granger, not getting involved in family affairs is not a valid excuse."
"I will," Harry grinned unapologetically. "Thank you, Malfoy."
Albus' eyes widened as the blond nodded one more time, his eyes scanning behind Harry and into the house. Malfoy? A Malfoy?
"Would you like to come in?" Harry asked. The blond, Malfoy, shook his head.
"I don't need to," he said slowly, snapping his snake cane against the floor lightly.
Scorpius' head peered from the dining room, his eyes wide.
"Father!" he beamed, running towards the other teen with a wide smile. "You actually came out of the house?"
The smaller blond raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I will have you know, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, that I do come out of the Manor when the need arises," he said evenly, his eyes shining with amusement and fondness.
Scorpius laughed, running a hand through his long hair.
"Of course, Father," he said. "How could I forget."
The Malfoys continued to banter for a few minutes while Albus stared in shock. His angel, his love, his everything was a Malfoy. And not any Malfoy. The Malfoy Patriarch was standing by his side, a tender smile lighting his face as he reached up to stroke his son's hair patronizingly.
And suddenly, having the two objects of his affection together, Albus could see the clear differences between them.
While Scorpius and Draconis Malfoy were both blond, their skin pale and their eyes light. Scorpius' skin had a light pinkish tan from his days out in the Quidditch pitch, and his eyes were bluer than his fathers and his hands bigger, his fingers calloused.
While Mr. Malfoy's eyes were completely grey-silver in color, speckled lightly with blue that only served to bring out the total absence of color from his eyes. His skin as milky white and his hands. His hands were slender, his fingers thin and delicate.
Albus could easily see why Mr. Malfoy was considered the Best Potion Master since his namesake, Severus Snape. With those hands he should be capable of anything.
Mr. Malfoy raised an eyebrow again as Harry nervously insisted he stayed for tea. His mouth – such a luscious, tempting, pink mouth, so pretty - curling into a polite smile as he declined. He had many potions to continue and no real interest to share the Gryffindor's idea of tea.
Scorpius laughed a little, wrapping his arms around his father's smaller frame and received happily a kiss on the forehead from Malfoy senior.
And Albus stared at him through it all, lost in a sea of memories and dreams that twisted his thoughts and fused his recent dreams with the man before him and they way they curled together in Malfoy Manor while he was under disguise and the way those amazing silver eyes clouded over in fear when he was without his mask.
How he wished the little angel would just accept him in his real form as he did in his old shape. And as his twisted and deformed body turned into dust he remembered staring at the night sky and listening in for the young, melodious voice of his Draco and swearing over everything magical that he would come back for him, young, perfect, just what Draco had loved from him.
"Yess," hissed a voice inside Albus' brain. "You are ssso pretty sstill, my Draconiss. We can finally be together now.
And he knew he should be frightened, that something was possessing his body. But he could only let himself smile contently as his eyes slipped from forest green to ruby red and back, just for a second.
To be Continued.