A/N: Not mine. No credit. Just as a reminder this story is rated M for a reason. There will be language, smut and all things that make a good "M" story. You have been warned. =)
Green. Emerald. Forest. Vert. Verde. Midori.
God, now Scorpius was thinking of his eyes in different languages; he spoke only five (not including Latin because it seemed a necessity to learn when it came to being a wizard), which seemed minimal according to his grandfather and insisted he take up Russian this year as a hobby. Russian of all things, with their unrecognizable letters and harsh tones; they sounded angry all the time, in Scorpius' opinion. Japanese was hard enough with their characters and odd grammar, but Scorpius wasn't one to go against his grandfather, even if he hated the old self-righteous bastard; the old cook was still blood. To become an Auror, he figured having any knowledge, even an extensive knowledge of languages was something else he could use to his advantage against the competition. And for that reason alone, he would suffer through the aggressive language that reminded him of being permanently constipated.
But back to green. Scorpius sighed as he shifted in his bed, the early sun creeping through the lake water that threatened to break into the dungeon windows. Scorpius always found it humorous that the Slytherins were forced to live in dungeons under the lake, as if they were a best-kept secret no wasp family would want to expose. No wonder Salazar had a tiff with the other Founders. He got shit for rooms, Scorpius mused, despite the fact that he oddly enjoyed the dark and dampness of his dormitory and the soothing sound of the lake lapping against the windows. However, and he'd Avada himself before ever admitting to it, he had often wondered what it would be like to wake up in one of the towers. The feel of warmth settling into the room and actually being able to watch the sunrise, fully exposed in it's awakening freshness as opposed to get a murky-shrouded view of it through dinged glass windows. Scorpius decided he'd most likely choose the Ravenclaw Tower due to the rumors of it having the best view of the mountains and Hogwarts grounds... and because the owner of a certain pair of green eyes belonged there.
"Fuck," Scorpius muttered under his breath in frustration, rising out of bed and running his hands through his hair, a nervous habit he picked up in fourth year once his hair started to grow back from the "James Potter" incident. It had been nearly a week since his and Albus' encounter in the Dungeon hallway and for some reason every time Scorpius closed his eyes, he saw green. Not Slytherin green. Potter green. Potter-fucking green. It was starting to drive him mad. With an annoyed sigh, the blonde stealthily snuck into the bathrooms to start getting ready for the day. It was a Saturday and the first Hogsmeade trip of the year which Scorpius wasn't too thrilled about, but he decided any excuse to get off the grounds was a good one.
Turning on the shower half-heartedly, Scorpius stripped down and stepped into the shower, shivering a little as the water took its time heating up. Still fighting off sleep, the Slytherin pressed his back against the cool tile and allowed the hot water to cover him in a relaxing veil of steam. As he stood there and closed his eyes, he couldn't help imagining what he had dreamt about every night this week: how good it felt to be pressed up against Potter and the boy's feeble whimper as he pushed him harder into the brick; it was enough to make blood rush south without warning. But now it didn't matter because he was alone away from questioning eyes. He allowed himself to remember the feel of Albus' chest against it own, remembering how surprised he was to find that the Ravenclaw's body felt toned and built, obviously refuting Scorpius' previous thoughts that the bookworm was athletically handicapped.
With a defeated grunt, Scorpius trailed his hands down his moist body, and wrapped slender fingers around his hardening prick, tugging gently as he licked his lips. He could remember how Potter smelled when he spoke against his neck, like mint mixed with citrus and a tinge of lavender; it was oddly fresh and feminine but smelled masculine on him. He tugged harder, eliciting a low growl in his throat. He could remember how close their lips touched, how if he just leaned a little bit forward he would have been able to taste those innocent lips... His free hand grabbed his sack and began to gently fondle it, suddenly imagining large tan hands gripping him while a hot tongue teased his thighs, emerald eyes looking up for approval.
"Fuck, what are you doing to me?" Scorpius hissed under his breath, as he pumped his hand harder, so close he could feel the tension bubble up in his stomach. Green eyes… Just a little more… Albus Potter on his knees… So close…
"Scorpius?"
"Dammit!" A disgruntled Scorpius gripped the wall for support so he wouldn't slip and fall, his erection painfully throbbing with the denied promise of release.
"Oh hey, thought that was you," Adrian paused for a moment as he turned on his own shower, "I wasn't interrupting anything was I? You weren't wanking off were you?"
"Of course not, you perve," Scorpius shot back indignantly, if not a little strangled as he rubbed water over his face, trying to splash some sense into himself, "Hurry up so we can eat before Hogsmeade. I don't want to wait for the others. They'll catch up."
"Alright." Adrian smirked to himself and shook his head in amusement, extremely aware of what he interrupted his mate doing and not caring in the slightest. Served the bastard right for not giving them details about whomever he had a row with last week before potions.
Scorpius looked down at his swollen cock and mentally muttered curse words in the five languages he knew before switching the water from hot to Antarctic and forcing himself under, hating how the green eyes remained in the forefront of his mind.
I'm screwed.
()
The sun filtered in gradually through the midnight blue curtains, soaking the normally cool-toned room in warm glows of orange. Albus threw his covers over his head in protest, wishing that once in a while their dormitories weren't so high up. He idly imagined living in the Slytherin dungeons before involuntarily shivering and welcoming the brightness of the room instead.
At least today's Saturday, Albus thought idly as he peeked one eye over his covers, glancing around to see if any of his mates were up yet. He spotted Alex DuVol sitting up in his bed with a book in hand, welcoming the sunshine as it gifted him with light. Albus smiled to himself and shook his head at how stereotypical Ravenclaws could be. It wasn't that Albus didn't enjoy reading. He did. Immensely. But he had other hobbies as well such as flying, cooking, inquisitive muggle games like scrabble and puzzles, eating sweets (yes, that was a hobby in his opinion) and last but not least, drawing. Al loved to draw. Ever since he was younger, he always knew he saw the world differently than others; where others saw numbers and letters, he saw shapes and shadows. His parents had enrolled him in some Muggle classes the summer he was seven and he simply fell in love with art. So much that he continued his classes every summer between terms. However, at school, he limited his drawing time to when he was either in the common room or his dormitory, with the rare sneak out to the lake or astronomy tower. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his artistic skills... in fact, he was extremely proud with how far he had come. Drawing people came easily now and landscapes were a breeze. He kept it a secret because he just didn't need something else that made him more different than he already was.
His mates in Ravenclaw understood his need for creativity and praised his work on plenty of occasions. Contrary to popular stereotypes, being sorted into Ravenclaw didn't always mean that one was bookworm smart or had the personality of a used quill. In fact, some of the most unique and fascinating people came from his house, in his opinion. Ravenclaws prided themselves not only on their wit but also on their ability to see people for who they are rather than what they represent; to look at them as individuals and be welcoming of them even if they don't like the group they hang around with. Ravenclaws were a rare breed and Albus felt they were highly underrated. It was one of the reasons Albus told the Sorting Hat to put him in Ravenclaw.
Albus closed his eyes momentarily and remembered his first day at Hogwarts, the talk he had with his caring father about not wanting to be put in Slytherin and his father's comforting words. However, Albus didn't admit this to anyone, but he really didn't want to be in Gryffindor either. Of course he wanted to be with his older brother, what younger sibling didn't, but Albus just knew neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin were the houses for him. He told the Sorting Hat so when it was placed upon his head. The hat disagreed, of course, explaining that he had both cunning and ambition, even if it was rarely used, as well as overwhelming selflessness and bravery, once again, that was rarely used. And yet, Albus stubbornly argued, rationalizing with the hat that he wanted to be in a place where they understood he was different, where being different and an individual was accepted rather than rejected. He wanted to belong somewhere he could draw and be creative. And he didn't want to follow in his parents' or brother's footsteps.
Albus' sorting took about eight minutes, his hatstall rivaling the famous Headmistress Minerva McGonagall's. It was a sight to behold: eleven-year-old Albus rationalizing his desires to the tattered old hat, using wisdom far beyond his years that left the hat with no choice but to confidently announce "Ravenclaw!" and allow Albus to sit with those who would help nurture him to be the best wizard he could be. Rose's sorting was similar but only lasted about a minute, the hat educating her about her own mother's sorting and how Rose was very much in the same position. Ultimately though, Rose and the hat agreed that Ravenclaw would be best for the bushy-haired redhead and Rose couldn't be happier, meaning she would be able to stay close to her best friend, Albus.
And now here they were, five years later, and Albus was still happy with his decision. However, he had to admit that at first his family was shell-shocked, neither his father nor mother having Ravenclaw in their family trees as far as they could recall. A small tinge of guilt had plagued the eleven-year-old Albus for not telling them he chose Ravenclaw because he wasn't like them, but he knew that it would hurt their feelings so he kept it to himself. Only Rose knew the truth since she slightly shared the same feelings even if her mother was almost sorted into their house; they were the two odd ones in the family but at least they could be odd together.
The sun reached a little higher in the sky, to the point where hiding from it's light was no longer worth the trouble, so Albus thrust the covers off of him and headed to the bathroom to shower, aware that Rose was probably already ready and waiting for him downstairs.
And he was right, Rose was sitting on the couch going through her Muggle weekly planner her mum purchased for her before term started, her ballet flats tapping against the star-covered carpet to it's own tune.
"Hey Rosie, ready to go?" Albus grinned at his cousin as he ran a hand through his hair, spreading pomade in it so his hair stuck up in all sorts of places; it was messy but manipulated messy. It was very Albus.
Rosie grinned and grabbed her light pink sweater to throw over her shoulders as she followed Al out of the common room, "Sleep well, Cous?"
"Always. Best dreams ever," he shot back with a smile and a wink. In truth, he hardly slept well anymore, being a nightowl by nature, but there was no point in worrying Rose about it… because Merlin-forbid it got back to his mum, or worse, his grandma. What was it with girls and worrying anyway?
"About the ferret?" Rose quipped with a condescending brow before linking her arm with Al's.
"He's not a ferret. I don't know why you insist on calling him that."
"And I don't know why you insist on defending him. Besides, you heard what dad said. About Draco Malfoy being transfigured into a ferret during his fourth year by a professor? I think some of his ferretness never left him and now it's passed onto his son," she stated matter-of-factly as if they were discussing why 2 + 2 = 4.
"Ferretness?" Albus had to laugh loudly at that, "Oh Rosie, just because you're the smartest girl in our year doesn't mean you can just make up words and expect them to be acceptable."
"Sure I can. Watch," Rose said assuredly as they walked by two Gryffindor fourth year girls, both clad in Muggle dresses that reeked of floral print, "Hey, you guys. Yeah, you. Ferretness. Use it."
The girls looked at her strangely until they recognized who was on her arm and then they proceeded to giggle and nod their heads enthusiastically, promising that they would spread it around even though they had no idea what it meant.
"See? I'm brilliant."
"They only agreed because I was walking beside you," he hip-checked her playfully, before continuing with a smug grin "Well it's good to know that even though I'm out, girls still find me adorable."
"Well of course. You have half-Weasley genes. We're all good-looking," she smiled smugly and hip-checked him back before they both started laughing and heading outside, where an autumn chill that threatened leaves orange ran up there backsides.
()
The sound of boisterous laughter pierced the air, forcing Scorpius to whip his blonde head to see where the intrusion on his silence was coming from. The sight of Weasley and Potter made his upper lip curl in annoyance. And just when I thought I had gotten you out of my head, Potter, Scorpius thought in annoyance, refusing to look away from the happy pair until Albus noticed him.
As if sensing his penetrating gaze, Albus looked ahead and grey clashed with green for a tense moment before the Ravenclaw ferociously blushed and looked away, forcing Ravenclaw-Weasley to look over as well and give Scorpius a rather rude gesture. The Slytherin guessed it was a Muggle thing considering he had no idea why a middle-finger raised in the air was so threatening. Figures she'd do something Muggle-related... being a Weasley and all. But no matter, he blushed when he looked at me didn't he? With a self-satisfied smirk, Scorpius turned his head back to his crew, who had taken to staring at him as if waiting for permission to breathe.
"Let's go."
The wind whipped mercilessly against the group covered in black leather and lead by a tall blonde head. Scorpius walked in silence while Adrian and Rodney discussed their recent lays and Cody listened quietly, remaining close to Thame's side. Colette merely rolled her eyes at their vulgarity and swooped up beside her best friend, wanting to link arms with him but thought better of it; he was never one for public affection, even from the closest of friends.
"What was that all about?"
"What was what all about?"
"You know what I'm talking about. Ravenclaw-Potter."
"You're imagining things again, love," Scorpius glanced over to his mohawk-sporting friend, his metal gaze clearly telling her to drop the subject until a later time.
Colette nodded with a soft sigh and looked ahead, pulling her jacket collar up around her neck for protection against the breeze, her caramel skin blending in with the harsh black fabric like a swirling cup of creamed coffee.
"I like the stars," Scorpius added softly, a voice he only used with Colette, "How'd your mum take it?"
Colette's hands instinctively went up to her hair, tracing the sides where shapes of stars had been shaved in on both sides, "Thanks. I like them, too. She wasn't too happy about it. I promised her I'd wear a dress for your annual Christmas party though... she just doesn't need to know there'll be pants underneath." She grinned before continuing, "Dad loved it though, which surprised me. He said it was 'wicked cool'. I think he's finally losing it."
Scorpius had to allow a small smile to grace his lips, thinking of the pompous, high-and-mighty Blaise Zabini finding shaved stars 'wicked cool'. "Mid-life crisis, I suspect. Milk it while you can..."
"Oh I plan to... Have you forgotten my early birthday present to myself?" Colette's smile was gone from her face but the grin remained in her hazel eyes.
"How could I forget? You forced me to go with you to that hellish Muggle place and watch them thrust needles into you repeatedly."
"Oh don't be such a drama king, it wasn't that bad," she scoffed and lightly pushed his arm.
"Take it back. I am not a drama king..." He gave her a warning side-glance, though there was a hint of playfulness hiding there.
"Then stop acting like one," she taunted back before looking ahead at the sight of The Three Broomsticks, "Come on. There's a Butterbeer with my name of it. You can continue being dramatic in there."
Scorpius, giving in to her antics as per usual, allowed himself to shake his head in amusement and follow her, until he spotted a flurry of red hair followed by black go into Tomes and Scrolls. Hesitating for a moment, the blonde called out that he had to make one quick stop and that he'd be right back. Ignoring the odd looks of confusion from the boys or Colette's unamused glare, Scorpius swiftly walked toward the specialty bookstore, sighing at how painfully stereotypical Ravenclaws could be.
Fortunate for the Slytherin, there was no bell attached to the door announcing his arrival, which was fine by him. He wasn't supposed to be here anyways. The last thing he needed was for Potter to realize he had purposefully followed him. And why had he done it exactly? What was this slow increasing obsession he began to feel for the awkward yet intelligent Potter? It couldn't have been that sudden; he had tormented the boy since he was eleven. Ever since Scorpius overheard Mr. Weasley telling his bushy-haired daughter to make sure to beat him in everything, and he realized Albus and the competition were best friends, he assumed the green-eyed thing for a boy was on her side and therefore not on his. Scorpius had never been good with sharing. He just wished he could figure out when this damn thing with Potter had escalated into something more than teasing and pranking.
It might have been when Potter had "come-out-of-the-closet" so to speak, proclaiming his preference for all the world last term. Oh, did The Daily Prophet have a go at that. He faintly remembered the Ravenclaw blushing like mad when the article on his sexuality was released and everyone in Hogwarts had a copy, some even asking him to sign them. Rubbish really. People are so thick. But Scorpius remembered thinking that Albus' blushing had been of the endearing sort and that something in him wanted to find a way to make him react that way more often. So his pestering became more physical. Light brushes against the unsuspecting boy's thigh when they were partnered in classes together, purposefully bumping him into a wall and then insulting him as if it were his own fault for walking in the first place and finally, when Albus was flushed and pressed up so tightly against Scorpius either of them could hardly breathe. Yes, Scorpius enjoyed those reactions very much and he planned on continuing to make them happen.
"Hey Al, I found the section. Over here!"
Rose's bright voice brought Scorpius back to reality, realizing he had gotten irritatingly aroused by thoughts of a blushing Potter and cursing his sixteen-year-old self for being so hormonal-happy. Suddenly he realized the said-section his obsession was looking for happened to be right where the turned-on blonde was hiding in. With Seeker reflexes, Scorpius dodged his way through the bookshelves quietly, his eyes keeping a close watch on the bobbing black head that passed two shelves down, blissfully unaware that he was the object of someone's stalking.
"Oh yes, there it is! Thanks, Rosie," Albus chimed in cheerfully, his soft voice prickling Scorpius' skin until goosebumps began to rise gently, "I think it's about time I read about the men who I'm named after. You know, beyond Hogwarts' education. According to dad, they were both extraordinary men and in my opinion, they better have been since I've been saddled with two of the most embarrassing names I can imagine being given."
"Oh come on, Albus isn't so bad..." Rose placated before adding, "And Severus is kinda cool. It's unique, but in a good way."
"I guess..." Albus didn't sound convinced as he picked up a rather thick book, studying the cover before reading the back, "I suppose it could be worse..." He added as in afterthought.
"Yeah, you could be name Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. I mean talk about embarrassing names following you for the rest of your life," Rose laughed but stopped quickly when a book dropped two shelves down followed by an annoyed grunt. Rose squinted her eyes to try and see where the noise came from but her attention was quickly herded back to the massive book dedicated to one of Hogwarts most popular Headmasters.
"I really like this one, Rosie," Albus commented before checking the price tag, "BUT it's not going to happen today. Dad will kill me if I spend this much on another book… And knowing James' mouth, I won't be able to get away with it." He sighed as he placed it back and grabbed another, smaller one, "Oh, but this one on Severus Snape is cheaper. I guess I'll just settle for one today."
Albus gave a pleased smiled as he headed over to the cashier and paid for his book, waiting until the shop owner was gone before he turned back to Rose, "And you know, Rosie, Scorpius' name isn't all that bad. It's kind of badass really. I think it suits him well. It reminds me of a Scorpion and those things are lethal... kind of like him. In a sexy and good way… if lethal can be good."
"I'm sure it can't," Rose said stiffly before taking on a tone of playful accusation, "You're only sticking up for him because you want to get in his pants!"
"Rose!" Albus shoved her out the bookstore as she taunted him some more, their loud banter escaping into the wind once the shop door closed, enveloping the store in silence once more.
()
Scorpius had to admit he had a mind to jump out and blow his cover right then and there when the know-it-all Weaslette insulted him. How dare she think she had the right to judge his name? Sure, there were times he hated it himself; it was a fairly absurd name, but it didn't mean anyone else could make fun of his parent's strange taste in the name department. However, any ill-fated thoughts toward the redhead vanished when Potter stood up for him. Him, Potter's own tormentor and yet he stood up for him, even going as far to say that it made him sound more badass… and lethally sexy. Scorpius couldn't help the little bit of warmth his heart felt at Potter's defense before reality came crashing down and he quickly killed that butterfly by setting it on fire, drowning it, and then setting it on fire again just to make sure. An obsession was fine but warm, fluttery feelings? Hell no.
At the sound of Weasley's confession, Scorpius had to smirk his Slytherin smirk, grateful for the confirmation of what he had already figured out, even if he doubted it in moments of uncharacteristic insecurity. So Ravenclaw-Potter wanted to get into his pants eh? He might be able to arrange for that down the road. But first, a game was in order.
Scorpius came out of hiding once he deciphered the coast was clear and walked over to the biography section once more. He gingerly picked up the thick tome Albus had been inspecting earlier and set it on the counter, paying for it without even looking at the price tag.
Oh this will be fun.
Next time on Jigsaw Love:
Al receives a gift from a secret admirer, a hot new professor joins Hogwarts as well as a fiery American, Collete ruffles Rose's Ravenclaw feathers and Scorpius' need to be around Albus grows...
