Disclaimer: JKR owns everything and everyone recognizable, I just rip them off for my own entertainment. I'm not making any money off of this.
Warnings: Slash pairing, fluff, mature content in later chapter(s).
Summary: Scorpius and Al have survived their N.E.W.T.s and ridden the Hogwarts Express to King's Cross together for the last time. Now that their Hogwarts education is complete, Al is eager to start a life with Scorpius, but Scorpius is intent on holding onto his father's ever-elusive approval. How long can Scorpius keep Al happy while simultaneously keeping his father's growing suspicions at bay? Not as long as he'd hoped, that's for certain.
A/N: I added the above summary because I realized my original summary is pretty cryptic (i.e. useless); so I hope this one gives you a better idea of what you're getting yourself into here. X) This story can be read as a prequel to my other two stories, but definitely doesn't have to be. Mad props go to my amazing beta, lynxzpanther! Thanks for reading, everyone! :D
Friday Evening, Last Week of November, 2024
Scorpius's Point of View
Scorpius pushed open the heavy door of Malfoy Manor and walked out into its perfectly manicured grounds. He shivered slightly in his black Muggle pea coat; the late November night was brisk, and the air smelled of autumn. He checked his watch and quickened his pace a little. It was only three minutes until the time they had planned to meet, and he wanted to be waiting outside the gates for Al when he arrived.
"He'll probably be late, anyway," Scorpius thought to himself, smiling a little as he walked down the long drive. Al was a little too characteristically haphazard for consistent punctuality. Scorpius didn't really mind though; he had somehow found himself in love with all of Albus Potter's many quirks.
After Scorpius mused about Al's time management skills (or lack thereof) for a short moment, his mind inadvertently switched gears to its other favourite pondering of late: his father. Since he had left Hogwarts and moved back into Malfoy Manor, Scorpius's thoughts seemed to come in two opposing veins: happy, sentimental, and/or longing thoughts of Al or distressing, angry, and/or befuddled thoughts of his father. To be sure, his father was becoming more and more insufferable as the months dragged on; and Scorpius was fairly certain that this was due to his growing suspicions regarding the nature of his son's relationship with "that Potter boy". Indeed, anytime he returned to the manor after an evening out with Al, the leading questions followed by awkward silences were almost too much to bear. Scorpius gave a cynical smirk as his brain registered the fact that this was the first time his father had taken such an interest in him in years. The idea of his father paying attention to him was probably as disconcerting to Scorpius as was his father's new inclination towards setting restrictive rules for him to abide by, despite the fact that he was of age. Tonight, for instance, he had been informed that he was to be home by eleven p.m. Questioning his father's logic or reasoning wasn't really something that he had ever been permitted to do; but he had a pretty good idea as to the nature of his father's motives. He assumed one of said motives was that Draco did not want his son "fraternizing" with anyone "unsavoury" (namely, said son's best friend from Hogwarts, the dreaded Potter), and that another was control; that is, if he was living under Draco's roof, he had to obey his wishes. Scorpius rolled his eyes to himself and shook his head a little at the thought. His father really was a miserable arse, and years and years of being "corrupted" by the Potters (rather, being allowed to see how a loving, functional family operates) had made him uncomfortably aware of this. And yet, for reasons truly unbeknownst to him, he definitely cared what his father thought of him. Al often said that he cared too much about his father's opinion, but Al didn't understand what it was like to constantly seek attention and approval from his father, and be made to feel inadequate time and time again. Consequently, Scorpius avoided the subject of his father with Al; not only was it hard for him to open up about it, but the subject had also been known to cause arguments between them. Al wanted things from him that his family circumstances made it impossible for him to give, and Scorpius regretted this more than anything. If he ever lost Al, he didn't know how he would cope. He would probably never forgive himself, and he would definitely never forgive his father. Scorpius was vaguely aware that eventually it would probably become necessary to choose between the life he wanted to live, and the life his father wanted him to live, but in the mean time he was doing all he could to keep that decision somewhere off in the future. His father inevitably wouldn't like his choice, and that would mean losing him altogether.
Mercifully, Scorpius didn't have to spend very much time at the manor. Healer training had him at St. Mungo's Teaching Hospital- a facility which was located adjacent to the closed department store that was St. Mungo's in London, and appeared to be a large restaurant that had been shut down for health code violations to passing Muggles- Monday through Friday, and the vast majority of his time outside of school was devoted to studying. However, there were also three saving graces that made his time spent mingling with the other inhabitants of Malfoy Manor somewhat tolerable. One of them was that his grandfather, Lucius, was starting to forget people's names. When his grandfather had been mentally fit, it had been difficult to stomach being in the same room as him. However, since his mental decline, Lucius's terrifying lectures about how he, Scorpius, should be actively seeking out a pure-blooded witch to marry, and needed to begin thinking about spawning an heir, had become less frequent, easier to tune-out, and altogether not quite as nightmarish to endure. The second redeeming quality about life at Malfoy Manor was that his grandmother, Narcissa, wasn't really all that disagreeable. Actually, she could even be decent company, if one caught her in the right mood. Scorpius had never dared to talk politics with her, to err on the side of caution, but she certainly wasn't anywhere near as bad as her husband and son. Lastly, and most significantly, Scorpius felt he would truly go insane were it not for his mother. Astoria Malfoy was practically a saint in her son's eyes. In fact, he had long been convinced that her biggest flaw was her choice in a husband. Although his mother had always insisted that her marriage to his father had not been arranged, Scorpius knew blood status had had a lot to do with it, and he had often wondered just how much say his mother had been allowed in the decision. Questioning this made Scorpius feel rather bad for his mother, though he couldn't really bring himself to feel too terrible. After all, whether she had truly wanted to marry his father or not, if she hadn't done so, he wouldn't exist. He just hoped his mother had found contentment and happiness with her life, either way.
Now that he thought about it, Scorpius had only ever felt that he was truly loved and appreciated for simply being the person that he was by two people: Al, and his mother. During his childhood, while his father had been consumed with his career at the Ministry, attempting to sponge away the shame that had been brought to the Malfoy name during the Second War, it had been Scorpius's mother who had kissed (and then magically mended) his scraped knees, sang him to sleep, and allowed him to paint "murals" on his bedroom walls at the age of six (no matter how much her father-in-law would scoff); she had also taught her son from an early age to appreciate people for who they were, not for their blood status or for what they could do for him. During his Hogwarts years, it had been Scorpius's mother who had promised him that no one in his family would have anything negative to say about it (so help her Merlin) if he wasn't sorted into Slytherin; his mother who had been genuinely delighted to hear that her son had a new best friend, and didn't give it a moment's pause when she learned who this new best friend was. She had even coerced his father into allowing him to visit Al at least once every summer while they had been in school. A month ago, it had been Scorpius's mother who had come into his room one night and told him that she knew he was in love with Albus Potter; that for her, it didn't change a thing, but that because she knew it would potentially change everything for the other members of their family, she wouldn't tell a soul.
All of this pondering about his family had taken Scorpius down the drive, and had brought him right up to the gates that separated the drive from the narrow lane that lay beyond the manor's grounds. Scorpius walked through the gates without opening them, as he was one of the select individuals they were enchanted to allow seamless passage to. He checked his watch again. He had a minute to spare until Al had said he would be there, but he wondered how long he would really have to wait. Scorpius situated himself next to the high yew hedge that enclosed the grounds of Malfoy Manor, and attempted to look composed and collected. In reality, though, he was feeling the light, excited butterflies in his stomach that always seemed to plague him whenever he was anticipating seeing Al. It was so silly, he told himself, getting the jitters before seeing someone with whom he had been intimately acquainted for over seven years, but lately, especially when he hadn't spent time alone with Al for a while, he found himself becoming exceptionally excited and just a tad nervous when he knew Al would shortly be Apparating to his side.
Suddenly, with a pop, and not a second behind schedule, there he was. Al Apparated to Scorpius's direct right, his hair looking slightly more windswept than normal. He took a second to find his balance before looking up into Scorpius's face, and smiling the most heart-wrenchingly, breathtakingly gorgeous, adorable beaming smile imaginable. Indeed, gorgeous and adorable were the only two adjectives Scorpius could think of to describe his boyfriend, at least from a physical standpoint. As Al stood next to him in his cuffed up, slightly distressed denim trousers, green high top canvas trainers, vintage Weird Sisters t-shirt, and black cardigan, his bright green eyes as astonishing as ever beneath his glasses, and his freckles perfectly dappled from cheek to cheek, Scorpius thought his utter cuteness could put even the fluffiest baby Pygmy Puff to shame. Merlin, how he adored every inch of Al, every sable hair on his head, every freckle on his face; could it really be true that he was all his to adore this way? Scorpius found himself wondering (as he did from time to time) why Al had chosen him: sarcastic, emotionally guarded, careful, and slightly neurotic Scorpius, son of probably the most pathetic Death Eater involved in the Second War. Why, in Merlin's name, had unspeakably sweet, spontaneous, shy yet expressive Al, son of the beloved hero of the Second War, chosen him? Why had he sat in his compartment on their first train ride to Hogwarts? Why had he befriended him so effortlessly and unquestioningly? Why had he just as effortlessly and unquestioningly given him his heart? The truth of the matter was, Scorpius had no idea; but he vowed to never, ever let Al regret it, not even for a moment.
Scorpius inclined his head, gesturing down the lane that lead away from the looming manor house in the background. The two of them needed to get out of sight of the manor's many windows as quickly as humanly possible, because Scorpius didn't trust himself to be able to keep his hands off Al for too much longer. The couple walked in comfortable, slightly expectant silence for a couple of minutes that seemed to drag on for an eternity, before looking over their shoulders in unison to check if they were yet concealed by the night. The instant they discovered they were no longer in any danger of being observed, the two were drawn together as though suddenly magnetized. Scorpius placed one hand on the back of Al's head, threading his fingers through unruly jet black hair, and the other hand on the small of Al's back. He pulled the shorter boy into his shoulder in a possessive embrace, holding him tightly and kissing his temple. Scorpius felt in danger of being overcome by everything that was Al: the softness of his hair, the warm weight of his body, the way that he fit just perfectly into his arms. Scorpius felt Al wrap his arms around his middle and hug him so tightly; it was almost difficult to draw breath. This was inconsequential; he still didn't want Al to ever let him go. Scorpius wished he could bottle up this feeling, like some kind of coveted true love potion, and save it for the next time he was alone and longing for Al's touch, his scent, his mere presence; but Scorpius knew this was impossible, even for someone such as himself who had been top of his class in Potions all seven years at Hogwarts. No, being near to Al was the only way for him to accomplish this specific feeling of delightful intoxication, and Scorpius knew nothing and no one could ever hope to inspire in him an emotion stronger or more sublime. The knowledge of this was nearly as frightening to Scorpius as it was glorious, but he was absolutely certain that he had been in far too deep for far too long to do anything about it, even if he had wanted to. Yes, there had always been something about Al, something intangible, vital and inescapable that Scorpius knew he could never live happily, if at all, without.
Al stood on half tiptoe and nuzzled into Scorpius's neck, tickling him slightly as he whispered, "I've missed you so badly it hurts."
Al sounded so loving and sincere, that it made Scorpius never want to let him out of his arms. He held him tightly as he whispered back the first honest reply that came into his head, "If it's been hurting you, then it's been killing me."
Reviews=Love!