Chapter 6: Love for All Manner of Brutes
Chapter Text
Regardless of what the Longbottoms knew of her life, Ginny rarely confided in them. After her Monday therapy session, however, Ginny was thoroughly wrung out. She could take no comfort in the presence of her husband anymore. Who else did she have to turn to, but the only other people who knew? Even Marietta, her stalwart counselor, was not entrusted with every detail. Ginny took comfort in this as the woman's parting words echoed in her ears.
"Remember, Ginny, you don't have to stay. Consider whether you might benefit from time on your own."
It was not the first time Marietta had suggested this, nor would it be the last, Ginny was sure. Ginny fumed over tea while Hannah listened patiently. "I spend most of the hour crying over James leaving, and she turns it back around to me abandoning my family again!"
"It wouldn't be abandoning your family," Hannah said gently. "It wouldn't even be abandoning your marriage, just yet. A break is temporary."
"It's giving up," Ginny argued stubbornly.
"It's not," Hannah continued, still calm. Ginny wanted to shatter that peace. It wasn't fair that anyone could be so untroubled. "Marietta was right. You'll care for others better when you care for yourself."
"I'm fine. Everything is fine."
"James is gone," Hannah reminded her. Ginny glowered and set her cup down forcefully. "And face it, Ginny, whatever you think you've accomplished, you and Harry have never had a healthy marriage." Ginny sputtered, immediately arguing, but Hannah continued in a neutral tone until Ginny gave up to listen. "You were always fighting. You never dealt with any of your issues as a couple. You stayed together, whatever happened, which is admirable. But you never dealt with any of it. When Harry told you he was pregnant, you stayed - it didn't matter that it wasn't the result of cheating, the first time. You agreed to be mother his child without really taking the time to consider it. You never really discussed his relationship with Severus.
"And when he did cheat, you stayed. You stayed time and again. And I'd fault you less if you stayed because of improvement; if you stayed because the two of you worked through whatever was wrong; if you stayed because you could at least be honest with yourselves. You stayed because you refuse to give Harry up. You stayed because you are hardheaded. You never stayed for the right reasons.
"And now, even though Harry's finally stopped cheating, it's still not enough. You never gave yourselves time to heal. Individually, or together. Too much time has passed, too much has happened." Hannah reached across the table to grasp Ginny's hand. Ginny felt the fight fall away from her at the touch. "You are a good wife, Ginny. And a good mother. Taking some time apart will not change that."
Unsure of what to say, Ginny took another sip of her tea and a bite of her biscuit. A hollow ringing sounded in her ears.
"It's your life," Hannah sighed. "I can't force your hand, and neither can Marietta. But I care about you, Ginny. I want you to do what's best for you. At the end of the day, what's best for you is what's best for your family."
Once, Snape told her daughter, "Consider what is in your best interest, Lily."
"That's selfish."
"No, girl. That is self-respect."
"But Jamesy and Alby…"
"Are looking after their own interests. Who is looking after yours?"
"You do, Uncle Sev'rus."
The pair spoke quietly from the kitchen. Lily sat on the counter, little legs swinging as Snape arranged a plate of biscuits for his guests. Harry leaned against the arm of the couch, smiling fondly as he watched them. Ginny wanted to snatch her daughter from the counter and flee with her. She wanted to grab her husband by the hair and drag him away. She wanted to gather her family close and break whatever damned spell Severus Snape had over them.
It was a long moment before Severus responded, voice strained. "I certainly do my best, Lily."
Ginny calmly sipped her tea as her inner voice screamed and raged.
"Taking everyone else out of the equation…no husband, no children. No mom or dad. No brothers. No friends. No fan club. What is the best course of action for you?" Marietta once asked.
Ginny sat stiffly in her seat, glaring disdainfully at her counselor. "Without my family, my life would be different. I'd have a very different set of problems, wouldn't I?"
Marietta sighed. "What are you doing here if you refuse to work with me?"
"I'm looking for a solution that is not 'leave your family'!"
"The solution you want is to bend Harry - sorry 'your husband' - into obedience by sheer force of will," Marietta replied, tone belying none of her agitation. "You don't want to drug him or curse him or use any magical means to force his hand. You don't want to leave. You want to stomp your foot and command his fidelity and have it be so. You've been stomping for years, Ginny. When are you going to realize it isn't working?"
Ginny fumed in silence. The scratch of Marietta's quill against parchment scratched against her raw nerves. Every week for ten years. First recovering from the war to marital woes. Ginny couldn't even reveal the worst of it to Marietta, regardless of any patient confidentiality promises. Even if she trusted Marietta to never breathe a word, how would she even explain her husband's pregnancy or their decision to lie to the world?
"Could I learn to live with it?" she eventually whispered, blinking tears from her eyes. "Could I learn to be okay with him screwing that man."
The 'no' was loud in Marietta's tight expression, but the words she spoke were, "Only you can answer that. We can develop a plan now…"
Ginny nodded as Marietta explained her options, shushing the voice inside ranting how she could never be okay with any of this. How could she just accept her husband crawling into Snape's bed like some whore? How could she gladly welcome him back into her arms, knowing where he had been, what he had been doing? How could she give him affection when he was filthy? How could she smile and laugh as if it were okay?
The very idea of it was a blow to her pride. Surprising to her she still had any pride left.
"What did you wish for, Mum?" Albus asked every year on her birthday.
Candles blown out on the tall, wobbly cake her mother made, Ginny offered her public grin to her surrounding family. Only Harry saw it for what it was. The look he gave her was concerned, but he smiled as well and offered her hand a squeeze.
Every year she wished for the same thing. Foolish at her age to still wish for anything so badly. Every year she closed her eyes, willing with all of her might that her husband could turn away from Snape. More than that, stop desiring him altogether. Stop loving him. Wishing with her whole heart that he would love her and only her, the way he was supposed to.
"It's a secret!" she always responded. Always pumping enough teasing and high spirits in her tone to disguise any bitter emotions threatening to drag her down. Difficult to be upbeat and happy when she reminded herself of bitter truths.
At least Harry always stayed with her for her birthday. They never invited Snape. And if her birthday fell on a Sunday, they didn't even visit. For her birthday, Harry was all hers. It was her he held close, her hair he kissed, her hand he held. This day, of all days, she didn't worry about where he was or what he was doing.
Her upcoming birthday would make six years since her wish came true, at least in part. Ginny was glad to take what she could get.
"Do you have any regrets, Mrs. Potter?" a reporter once asked.
Regarding her career, specifically, but it was not Quidditch Ginny's mind jumped to. She thought instead of every point in life she could have turned back. Ending her marriage when she first learned Harry had cheated. Ending her marriage when she first learned Harry was pregnant. Ending her marriage when they first separated, rather than reconciling. Ending their volatile relationship before they ever made it to the altar.
If only she had never met Harry Potter at all.
But she thought of Lily, who would never have been born. Thought of her daughter's wild, carefree spirit as she danced around the house. Thought of her sharp focus when arguing with her brothers or sneaking out onto a broom. Lily's big, white smile. Lily always stealing the first swipe of icing on any cake.
She thought of Albus, who she never would have met. Thought of her son's cool, collected facade beneath which a mad genius sparked, the eerie glint of it in his green eyes. Thought of his secretive smiles when he thought no one was looking. Albus's soft voice, speaking only with purpose, and always with the undercurrents of hidden knowledge. Albus sneaking around the house, always popping up where you least expected.
She thought of James, whose mother she might never have been. Thought of his impish smirk, a thousand mischievous thoughts flitting behind black eyes. Thought of his big, warm hugs that healed any wound. Every shift of James's body confident and fluid, contagious energy to those around him. James tickling his siblings to make them laugh whenever they were sad.
She thought of Harry, who might not have the chance to break her heart every day. Thought of the steady strength he brought to every room he entered. Thought of the warm, muscled arms encircling her every night. Meeting Harry's gaze in a crowded room, matching his firm smile, moving together as one well-oiled machine. Harry's tender kisses in the sunlight, her soul soaring with his through clear blue skies. Harry's deep, loving kisses in the dark, clinging to him as if they were the only two people left on earth.
She thought of Harry giving those intimate kisses to Snape and knew it to be a lie. Instead she saw biting, vicious kisses. Imagined them tearing at each other like beasts. Harry would never give Snape what he gave her. And Ginny gave Harry what Snape was incapable of. What she shared with her husband was a broken mass, but it was solid and they alone understood the mechanics. It was her and Harry against the world, even when they were against each other.
"No, no regrets," Ginny had replied with her public smile.
"How am I supposed to know what's best for me?" Ginny whispered, the shake of her head dispersing the unwanted thoughts.
"You think about it," Hannah suggested. Ginny snorted to herself. Precisely what she did not want to do would of course be Hannah's suggestion. "Long and hard. Be by yourself and think about what you want for yourself. Think whether you're getting everything you need. Think about whether you want your life to continue the way it is."
Ginny laughed. She wasn't sure why. Only when that laughter became sobs did Hannah move over to hug her. It was easy to know what she wanted, when what she wanted was what Hannah had. A content, easy life. A loving husband whose eyes never strayed. She wanted to be happy.
And however much she loved Harry, however much she wanted Harry, she was not happy.
Work dragged by on Monday, in part due to the fact that Harry had heavily considered calling in that day. What would he have done without work? Mope around the house over his son leaving home? More likely he'd have made matters worse by banging down the door of James's new flat. Banging down the door of Malfoy Manor, demanding Albus come home, whatever his mother had said. At worst he'd hunt down Severus; the idea of that set him firmly off to work an hour early, throwing himself into mindless paperwork.
That was the worst part of being Head Auror - the endless paperwork. He saw much more field work before the promotion. Harry would rather be stalking the streets for suspects than reviewing and approving requests for raids and arrests. The whispers of "new Death Eaters", using the old name of Knights of Walpurgis, might be more interesting if he could do more than read about it. If he wasn't the one who had to make the decision that there was not enough evidence to act upon, yet. Instead he would send more Aurors out to gather more intel, and sift through more paperwork until they could make a move.
What Harry needed was a move to make. Something more hands on than this. A little action might distract him for a time, but sitting behind his desk, staring at case reports, his mind wandered easily from Dark wizards to his son. To James.
His lies had driven James away. His son was hurting. Nothing Harry could do would fix that. It was his fault James was gone. His fault Ginny was upset. It all came back to him, his own actions, the foundation of lies his entire life balanced precariously upon. What he had never really considered before was how his life was not his own; it belonged also to Ginny, James, Albus, and Lily. They were the people he loved the most. They were the people most damaged by all he had done.
"C'mon, Harry," Ron said from the doorway. Harry jerked, sitting upright, a pile of parchment tipping over onto the floor. "Let's go to lunch."
"I really need to finish this," Harry said, glancing at the time. It was well past noon, well past his usual lunchtime. He couldn't even remember if he'd had breakfast. His stomach grumbled hopefully.
"You really need a break," Ron corrected. "C'mon, mate."
Ron didn't outright prod as Harry followed him to their favorite diner. It was his face, the slight frown, the raised brows, his aura silently screaming to "just let it out, Harry!" Ron genuinely wanted to help. His best friend had no idea what he was asking for. There was no one Harry could think of he wanted to know less. Ron would never forgive him. Harry could never expect him to.
They did not speak as they ate, though Harry imagined doing so. What would hit Ron first, he mused, the fact that Harry cheated on his sister, or the fact that he used to screw around with Severus Snape? Ron had never gotten over them naming Severus godfather to the children. Certainly not naming Albus after him.
At least Hermione made an effort with Severus. Harry liked to think they were friends, even. Hermione always spoke with Severus when they were in the same room. They had plenty to discuss, most of it going well over everyone else's heads. They even visited from time to time without the excuse of birthday parties or other family events.
Hermione might forgive his loving Severus, whether she understood their chemistry or not. Maybe if he had done things the right way…Well, that didn't bear thinking about. He hadn't done things the right way. And while Hermione might forgive his choice in partner, he did not think she would be so lenient in regards to his previous slip-ups. Falling in love with Severus Snape was one thing, cheating on one's wife another.
"I heard James got his own place," Ron prompted as their bill was brought to them.
"Yeah," Harry said numbly. "Eighteen, you know. Ready to be out on his own."
"Right," Ron scoffed, at least fed up with Harry's evasion.
What was another drop of guilt on the overflowing cauldron of it inside of him? Harry paid for them both. "He's just going through something right now," Harry offered. "Ginny and I are handling it. It's private."
"We're family," Ron reminded him. "Hermione and I, we only want to help."
"I know," Harry said, forcing a smile. "I appreciate that. But really. Ginny and I can handle this."
"If you say so, Harry," Ron sighed. "Just remember what I said, alright? There's nothing you can't tell us, you know that."
Harry smiled grimly. "Yeah, Ron. I know." If there was one things his oldest friends would never understand it was the mistake that led to all of this.
They chatted of lighter topics as they walked back to the office. Quidditch, mostly, leading to the attractiveness of various female players. Ron's biggest crush was Balbina Frost of the Canons, which provided endless amusement to his wife and friends. She was just his type: busty, leggy, dark-eyed, thick shiny hair, and to top it all off she was Keeper for his favorite team.
Harry's Quidditch-player of choice (other than his wife, mind you) was Fallon Walsh of the Kestrels. As Seeker, she was very small, but very toned, with bright blue eyes, freckles, and short golden curls.
"She's cute enough," agreed Ron. He only had eye for the curvaceous type, himself. "I hope you hide all your posters. You know how jealous Gin can be!"
"Yeah," Harry agreed dully, stepping into his office. The new file sitting neatly on his desk drew his attention before anything. It shouldn't have stood out, with all of the other paperwork piled everywhere. This, however, was sitting neat and straight right in front of his chair, as if Fern made a special place for it on his messy desk. Harry was too aware of the movement of his body, giving off no anticipation or impatience as he walked over to it.
Ron looked down at it curiously when Harry examined it. "Esther Unger?"
"Person of interest," Harry didn't quite lie. "Look, mate, I really need to get these forms filled out. But we'll have dinner soon, yeah?"
"Yeah," Ron agreed. With one last suspicious look at the file, Ron returned to work.
Esther Unger. Severus's current bed partner. His fingers drummed over the folder, just itching to tear it open, to scan every last word of it. The request had been put in the day after Severus mentioned her name, and only now had it come back to him. Every day he waited anxiously. Every day he fought the urge to check in, to draw any more attention to his search.
Now? Now, it didn't matter. Couldn't matter. The file was unceremoniously stuffed into the bottom drawer of his desk. Esther could have Severus. What Harry had to focus on was the family he had. What good did it do to cling to what could never be? What right did he have to be upset with Severus for keeping company? Did he expect Severus to be alone and miserable the rest of his life, pining for him?
It might have been nice, but it wasn't fair. Not to Severus, nor to Ginny.
Esther Unger was not a beautiful woman. Too tall for most men's tastes, her shapely form may have made up for it had it not been for her unfortunate face. Her features were too severe to be lovely, forehead too pronounced, mouth too wide, the upper lip larger than the lower. Her teeth were crooked. Her irises were an odd shade of gray-brown. Her hair was thin, the color of straw, a chunk of it gray on the right side.
No one would call her beautiful, but everyone would call her smart. Severus rather liked smart. They worked for St. Mungo's, though they only met by chance. Severus worked in experimental potions, improving or inventing recipes as needed, supplying basic needs in his downtime. She was a healer, primarily on the second floor, though she was experienced and knowledgeable enough to aid other wards. It was she who came to him, to see if he could possibly cure dragon pox. Drinks after work one night, one thing led to another, and now they had a mutually beneficial arrangement.
After all, no one generally found Severus attractive, either.
Trysts were not normally shared at the hospital, but Monday afternoon Esther called him to her office to "discuss his research." He took his fill touching every curve, biting kisses into her generous breasts, stroking soft, hairless legs. Esther was wet and ready for him, a woman's welcoming caress. Quiet, half-startled noises were puffed into his ear as he fucked her, and he could admit to being quite taken by them.
Esther was not pretty, but she was all woman. He enjoyed a woman's body; for looking, for touching. Never had he found a man's body appealing until Harry wormed his way into his heart.
Severus determinedly did not think of Harry as he fucked Esther on her desk. Now and again he thought he heard the echoes of Harry's deep groans. Shudders racked through him even as he shoved them out of mind. The flash of green behind closed lids as he came could have been anything, certainly nothing to do with Harry bloody Potter.
"Did you actually care to discuss my research?" Severus inquired once he was clean and clothed.
"Yes," Esther agreed. "Though I wonder if we might table that conversation for dinner?"
Severus shot her a suspicious look. They did not have dinner. They shared drinks and sex outside of work. At work they were friendly, sure. As friendly as either ever was. "I am not looking for a girlfriend, Ms. Unger."
"Oh, don't be daft," Esther replied. "I'm not proposing marriage. Say no if you like, but I do rather enjoy your company."
It rather sounded like a date. Esther had not denied that it was. Truth be told, Severus also enjoyed her company. Her mind was sound, not prone to flights of fancy. Esther was honest, noble, but not particularly pleasant. They suited each other, coworkers gossiped. Gossipers never gave Esther much credit; she was far kinder than he. Not cloyingly sweet, as one might want from a healer. Instead she was good, down to her core.
Severus had always been attracted to goodness, however far he himself strayed.
"Perhaps," Severus finally said.
Esther did not smile. The softening of her features betrayed her pleasure. This was an uncomfortable realization, as he had made no promises.
Severus had never been on a date before. He wasn't entirely sure he should start now. The only companionship he actively sought was the occasional hookup. What need had he of romance? Certainly his previous experiences falling in love did not give him any desire to do so again.
No, he did not expect to find love with Esther. What they did share was decent sex and more than decent conversation. He did not object, really, to spending more time with her. Besides, if sex bothered Harry so much, imagine his reaction if Severus ever found himself in a relationship.
"Tonight, at seven, then?" he asked, more on a whim than truly thinking it through.
Now Esther did smile, an ever so slight quirk of the mouth. "Yes, that is suitable."
Mealtimes with the Malfoys were always dignified events, but more so when Scorpius's grandparents visited. Scorpius was more polished than usual, in fancy pale blue dress robes. He was also quiet. Albus borrowed a set of silvery robes with golden clasps. It was more ostentatious than he normally cared for, but he held his head high as he examined his reflection. If only his hair wasn't such a hopeless case. Albus attempted to smooth down the dark mop as Scorpius plucked at the unopened letter sitting on the bedside table.
"Aren't you going to read Mabel's letter?" Scorpius asked.
"Oh, yeah, eventually," Albus said airily, straightening the front of his robes as though the action might also straighten out his nerves. "Don't want to be late to meet your grandparents. That would be rude."
Narcissa and Lucius were more rigid and coolly polite than their son. Lucius sneered when he greeted Albus. Narcissa smiled faintly, but patted his cheek. Her fingers were frail and icy cold. Her smile grew warm when she greeted her grandson, and offered him the same cheek pat. Scorpius and Albus glanced at each other. Scorpius's cheeks turned pink as Albus tightened his mouth to repress a smile.
"Are the Potters too busy with their legions of fans to care for their own offspring?" Lucius asked.
"Father," Draco warned curtly.
"Hush, Lucius," Narcissa whispered.
The silvery eyes so familiar in Scorpius's face were colder, sharper in that of the eldest Malfoy. Albus calmly met the gaze. However intimidating Lucius Malfoy thought he was, Albus was not worried. Not only did he trust Draco Malfoy to let no harm come to him, he trusted his father's status as Head Auror would protect him.
Besides, Albus knew more about Lucius Malfoy than Lucius Malfoy knew about him. For instance, Lucius did not know he sat before the son of one of his oldest friends. Albus wondered what the Malfoys thought of Severus being his godfather, and what their reaction might be if they knew he was more than that. Albus was tempted to see for himself. If he dared say the words, dared unleash more chaos, just for the sake of knowing precisely how the lines of Lucius Malfoy's face would shift once he knew.
Instead, Albus focused on what he did know. Holding that gaze for several long seconds, he eventually dropped his eyes pointedly to the covered left forearm resting on the table. Albus knew that beneath that long, elegant black sleeve was a mark etched in faded black. The same ghastly mark that marred his father's forearm, and that of Draco Malfoy's. Death Eaters, all of them, or they had been once upon a time.
Albus knew the atrocities committed by the Death Eaters, could envision Lucius and Draco and Severus performing those very crimes. He knew the ancient, dark history of the Malfoy family. Knew what generations of Slytherins had done in the name of blood purity. Knew the cowardly way the Malfoys had turned on the Death Eaters to save their own hides, and that of their son. Knew that to this day old heirlooms were hidden in dark corners, waiting to be uncovered, and the threat to the Malfoy family if they ever were.
When Albus met those silver eyes again, he quirked a brow and carefully sipped his juice. Lucius's face was stony, a drop of fear rippling in those eyes.
From the head of the table, Draco hid a smirk behind his goblet of elfwine. Narcissa primly wiped her mouth with a napkin. Scorpius shot Albus a warning glare.
"I only meant to comment on the Potters' naturally busy schedule," Lucius explained. "Such beloved heroes surely have myriad calls on their time."
"Yes," agreed Albus graciously. "Especially when one is Head Auror." He could have carried on, dropping hints of his father's investigations, but naming his career was threat enough for one evening.
"Quite," Lucius agreed tightly.
Draco offered him a wink before steering his father's attention. "Father, we never did finish our discussion of foreign investments."
As the adults began to converse about business, Scorpius leaned in. "What were you thinking?"
"Oh, you know, family honor and all that rot," Albus muttered gleefully. In part, perhaps, he did feel the rush to defend his parents. To deflect attention from why he had been a guest here for so long. Mostly, Albus had to admit, he just wanted to know what Lucius would do. Would he be angry? Fearful? Defensive? Proud? Ashamed? Such choices. Various Death Eaters displayed various reactions to their Marks being noted. And rare Albus could spot them without the fear of retaliation.
Once dinner was finished, the adults moved to the sitting room to share more wine while the teenagers went roaming the halls of the grand manor. Albus wasn't sure there was a crevice left undiscovered, but Albus hunted anyway. Scorpius came along, himself alert and checking within vases and behind frames.
"What do you think your family would do if they found out the truth? How would they react?" Albus asked.
"What? About you, you mean?"
"Yeah," Albus agreed. "They're close to Severus, or they used to be, right?"
"Yeah. Father still sees him sometimes. I dunno about Grandfather." Scorpius was quiet, considering, as Albus flipped through a book. Now that he was seventeen, he freely used magic to be sure it was just an ordinary book. No hidden messages or meanings or abilities there. Albus put it back and selected another.
"I dunno, really," Scorpius said. "Shocked, I guess. I think that would be anyone's reaction."
"Would they be angry?" Albus asked.
"I doubt it. None of them are personally affected by it. Grandfather might make snide remarks about your family, but he does that anyone. He'd only have new material to work with."
"Hmmm." Nothing unexpected found there. Scorpius had a point, most people would think the same. Little point in lingering on the what-ifs when it would never happen. Their love had been hidden for too long to be uncovered now. Albus wouldn't tell anyone - other than Scorpius, that was. He certainly wasn't telling Mabel. His heart clenched at the thought of her and the letter that lay unopened upstairs.
James might be hotheaded, but if he had come this far without spilling the beans, Albus didn't think he would anytime soon. James wasn't a spiteful person. He would never harm anyone with a clear head. It was only in the moment of his heightened emotion you had to worry about.
Lily was more spiteful than James, but too loyal to her own family, and too unwilling to sully her own image. No, Lily would not want to rock the boat while she was still on it. Besides, she was too much of a daddy's girl and would probably forgive Harry before anyone else did.
Even if his siblings were so inclined, his parents had been clinging to their facade for too long to give it up now. Harry and Ginny would reign them in at the first hint of indiscretion.
Knowing this set Albus at ease. This had been his secret, too, for so long. He was not willing to give it up now, whatever he felt towards his parents. In fact, he now had his siblings to rely on and confide in. It was, at last, the family's secret.
James entertained his whole first day in his new flat. It was for the best. James did not like to be alone. He always thrived in company, the more the merrier. School friends dropped by. Most brought gifts, others food, some only laughter, but James enjoyed all they gave. Their joy for him inspired joy in him. All day he rode the high.
Only after dinner the crowd trickled out until James was finally alone. Good spirits fled him as he collapsed onto his couch. He'd never been alone before last night. Bumps and creaks from neighbors weren't the same as feeling the presence of others. They were too distant. James liked more noise. More life.
"Jame?"
James popped up. Teddy stood in the doorway, smiling awkwardly. James quickly crossed the room to him. "You came."
"Of course I came," Teddy said. There was more he meant to say. James could tell. There was a fire in him now, though, and whatever Teddy had to say could wait. He grabbed the other wizard by the face, kissing him enthusiastically. Teddy stumbled forward with every backward step James took. He never stopped him as they fell into bed. A wave of a wand closed the door before anyone could peek in.
There were a thousand and one ways James wanted to have Teddy, but he was determined to make the most of his time. Here was his second chance. If he did everything right, maybe then Teddy would stay with him. James enthusiastically pushed all of his love and desire into every kiss, every touch, begging without words for Teddy to love him and want him in turn.
The second time was better than the first. James sank onto his lover with only a twinge of pain, soon becoming sighs of pleasure. When Teddy watched him, his face was clear and lax with awe. Never had James wanted to impress another person more, and threw everything he had into his performance.
Tonight, he would make Teddy Lupin his.