Glitter
The first time Scorpius kissed him, Al felt nothing.
The first time Scorpius kissed him, Al felt nothing. There was dust in the air, a glitter in the corner of his eye. There were hushed giggles from the girls. Scorpius leaned across, dry lips brushed quickly over Al's, and that was it. No fireworks went off, nothing tingled seductively, and he did not get hard, thank you very much. Scorpius was back in his seat so fast Al barely had time to realise he'd actually kissed a boy. It was just another game of Spin-the-Bottle and booze, no different from all the others they had played over the years.
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An Accidental Discovery
Albus tries his brewing skills at the Draught of Peace.
The fine powder dissolved, leaving dark whirls in the potion. Albus stirred and found himself looking towards the scales, towards the crushed porcupine quills. Something...
"Potter!" – a scream, a whoosh of air, and he was pulled away from the cauldron.
The explosion thundered through the classroom; everything was wrapped in billowing smoke. Albus jerked away from the hot spatters, into the body behind him. A hand covered his cheek; someone held him close.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor," Professor Slughorn said, exasperation in his voice.
But Albus was only listening to Scorpius's heart that wouldn't stop hammering, hard and fast.
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Last Fight
Albus and Scorpius never fought but once.
Albus and Scorpius never fought. Not at Hogwarts, not at the Ministry, never in their home. They didn't even fight when Albus was promoted Head Auror, while Scorpius had to leave the Aurors to take care of his mum.
But now – both of them age sixty-four, and one just home from the healers – angry yells ring through Grimmauld Place; powerful hexes shake the grandfather clock in the hall.
"I don't need your bloody money!"
"Damn it, I have four more months to live. Just let me appoint you as my heir."
"Fuck this inheritance shit. I want you. Only you."
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Another Malfoy Meets the Potters
When Scorpius meets Al's parents for the first time, being gay is the least of it.
Scorpius dreaded meeting the Potters. His eyes, everybody said, looked exactly like Grandpa's. Mrs Potter would instantly be reminded of being possessed by a murderous megalomaniac. Mr Potter would take one look at his face and – well, spitting image and all that. Their fathers still hated each other if the firecall Scorpius overheard was anything to go by.
"Mum, dad!" Al yelled into the noisy kitchen.
Four heads turned, the clatter died away.
"Hello, Scorpius." Mrs Potter was staring shamelessly at the love-bite on Al's neck, then turned. "I win, Harry. He doesn't look like a girl at all."
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The Silk of You
Albus may not think of love, but he does... (love Scorpius, that is).
Albus doesn't think of love when he fucks Scorpius in the Muggle loo. He loves it, of course – loves Scorpius' silk dress riding up, revealing long pale thighs. Loves the taste of him, the feel of his smooth skin. But love?
Albus has never been a courageous man. But when a group of gay-bashers attacks Scorpius, he steps in their way without a split second's hesitation. There is no time for dove-eyed declarations. The speed of Albus' moves, the fierce determination of his spells – those make up the letters that write I love you vivid bright across the nighttime sky.
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Little Sister
Next holiday, Scorpius swears, they are going with his parents to Milan.
For their first holiday together, the Potters invited Scorpius to accompany them to Egypt. Now Mr Potter was constantly trying to make Scorpius more comfortable, Mrs Potter – well, he wasn't sure whether she actually liked him or was only making fun of him. And Lily hadn't spoken a word to him since he'd got together with Al.
Scorpius sighed. A sunburned hand sneaked around his waist and –
"Lily!"
"Al wants to have sex with you in the dunes." Lily placed a shell in Scorpius's lap. Icy-blue water from the ocean sloshed precariously against its rim. "Should I tip it?"
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Higher than the firs
How Madam Hooch got a Potter and a Malfoy to be friends.
Madam Hooch, short-cropped hair white and eyes sharp like Uncle Bill's, gave the command.
"Up!"
Moments later, all first-years but Albus and Scorpius Malfoy were in the air.
Scorpius's broom was hovering perfectly, expectantly below his out-stretched palm. Albus's was doing tiny pathetic summersaults in the grass.
Madam Hooch looked from one to the other. "Scorpius, show Albus how to control his broom and fly. Don't go higher than the firs." Then she was gone, supervising the rest of the class.
Scorpius coughed. "First time on a broom, Potter?"
"Er... You wish." Albus smirked.
They had been friends ever since.
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Behind Thick Curtains
In first year, they sleep in the same bed. In fifth year, they sleep with each other.
2017
The curtains of the four-poster bed were thick but not that thick. They could not muffle the Potter boy's sobs.
He had approached the Slytherin table after the Sorting – pale-faced, not daring to meet anyone's eye. The boy looked like Harry Potter, down to the glasses and the wild black hair.
No scar, though.
Scorpius sighed. He got up and opened the curtains of Potter's bed.
"Potter," he whispered.
The dark head did not move.
"Albus."
Slowly the boy turned and stared, eyes glittering with tears.
"Budge up." Scorpius slid in. "Believe me, I'd rather be in Gryffindor, too."
2021
The curtains of the four-poster bed were thick but not that thick. They could not muffle the slap of Scorpius's breathless wanking.
"Albus," he groaned out, just before the unmistakable splash of spunk on skin.
Albus stood in the dark, full of longing and painfully hard. He knew Scorpius wanted him; he always came with Albus's name on his lips.
Gathering his courage, Albus opened the curtains of the bed.
Scorpius stared, eyes dark silver in the moonlight.
"Budge up." Albus slid in. "Want you, too."
Soon he was coming on pale limbs, moaning Scorpius's name into bright, soft hair.
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