26 December, 2038

Jenkins had been perusing Albus's report on the Christmas party at Malfoy Manor for nearly twenty minutes, during which he had been very silent. Albus couldn't blame him, though, considering the tidings that the field report bore.

There was an operative in the Ministry, and he was working for the Knights and by extension whatever this plot of theirs was. The only clue as to the spy's identity was that he was not some low-ranking official; he held true power. With their influence well rooted in the governmental hierarchy, it would only be a matter of time before the Knights made their move.

"I can get more information, but I just need some more time," Albus said tentatively, not fond of the quiet.

His concentration snapped, Jenkins nodded, "Right. This is good work, Potter. I never even thought you'd get this much. It's definitely more than I expected."

A little perturbed by his boss's lack of faith in his abilities, Albus crossed his arms and slouched in his chair. The Knights were playing a dangerous game, and whatever it was that they were after, he was the one who had to bring them down and make sure they didn't get it.

True to his word, Scorpius had maintained his resolve not to push Albus into anything sexual for more than four months after that. It was admirable, if not mind-boggling. Scorpius was nearly thirty-three, so going without a good shag for that long — and Albus was pretty sure that he was — had to be miserable.

As it was, at least once a week, Albus felt like going to the nearest sleazy bar, drinking himself stupid, and taking home the first girl that would have him, but he knew he couldn't do that. First off, his social engagements with Scorpius monopolised a lot of his time, with the rest being spent amassing the information he'd collected into a sort of archive.

By this point, he knew that the Knights' plans were quite long-term, but they were nearly set to move into action, and in a few months, they would. It aggravated Albus that he couldn't find out who the mole was in the Ministry, because that would tell him a lot about what it was that they were trying to accomplish. He already suspected nearly everyone of pure-blood descent, merely for the fact that he had not been able to rule enough of them out.

But all of that was almost easy in comparison to keeping up this farce of a relationship with Scorpius. Albus had exhausted the profile information months before, so all the 'new' and fascinating facts about 'Melinda' were all a mesh of Albus's own personal experiences and pure fiction. He could hardly keep track of which was which.

It was disturbing to him how easily he had slipped into the liar's role. White lies, half-truths, and overt falsehoods poured out of his mouth like bile. Either Scorpius was really gullible or Albus was gifted at deception, because he truly seemed to have no idea that he was being played. Though Albus needed him to stay in the dark, it was still sickening to think of how misplaced Scorpius's trust in his 'girlfriend' really was.

Their days fell into almost a pattern. Each day, Scorpius would come and take Albus out to lunch or dinner, or he would simply spend time chatting about whatever was on either of their minds. At various points, Scorpius would say that he loved 'her', angling for a similar response that never came, but he never said anything about it. They exchanged chaste kisses when appropriate, but it never went any further. For the most part, however, Albus still enjoyed spending time with Scorpius and fervently wished that they could have known one another under wildly different circumstances.

At times, Albus would even forget who he was, or more importantly, who he wasn't. It would be something as simple as cracking a dirty joke and then summarily having to explain how a lady of breeding had heard such filth. A couple of times, Albus had exhibited far too much intimate knowledge of Hogwarts, a school that 'Melinda' had never attended, but that would be explained by reading Hogwarts: A History. Despite the fact that these moments were dangerous, Albus still relished talking about his own life for at least a bit and not the existence of a woman who didn't even exist.

No matter the current status, though, Albus knew that he was running out of time in both aspects of his double life. Eventually, the Knights would go forth with their plans, and a lot of innocent people could get hurt. Also, Scorpius wouldn't hold out forever before he got sick of pouring himself into a partnership in which the love was one-sided. That would lose Albus his best and only foothold in the veritable fountain of information that was high society fêtes.

That was, of course, until everything changed on a spring evening.

2 May, 2039

Victory Day celebrations were hollow ones for the former followers of the Dark Lord, but they were necessary. That day hadn't brought very many of them good tidings, but to not observe one of only three major holidays was simply not done. So, each year on the anniversary of Harry Potter's defeat of Voldemort, the pure-blooded brass would come out en masse to pretend that they had always been on the right side.

That day had arrived. This time, it was the Bletchley family's turn to hold the big party. Just like their peers, they spared no expense, not thinking twice about the obscene level of extravagance. All in all, it was just like every year before, Scorpius had said.

So there they stood, Albus in his feminine disguise and dressed to kill, and Scorpius equally decked out, bored out of their minds as they wished to be anywhere else on the planet than there. Every one of these get-togethers were the same: dancing, music, indulgent food, and trying to look wealthier than the person next to you. If he hadn't needed to be there, Albus would have begged to leave.

Desperate for something to do, Scorpius had volunteered to fetch drinks for the night, to which Albus agreed. That gave him time to eavesdrop unnoticed, and if one thing was certain, it was that Scorpius knew when he didn't hold 'her' complete attention. On one such drink run, though, Albus's already strange relationship with Richard Greengrass was vaulted into a whole new level of weird.

Greengrass sat down in the seat that Scorpius had just vacated, drumming his fingers on the table. He said nothing for a while; instead, he simply scanned the throng of people over and over again as if looking for one particular person. Finally, he said, "Have you ever chatted with my daughter, Daphne?"

Shaking his head, Albus said, "No, sir, I haven't. I've seen her a few times, but we've never been properly introduced." And where the hell had that come from?

"No matter," he said. "I just thought you should meet her husband, Patrick. There are few with purer bloodlines than the Hornbys, so they're definitely worth getting to know."

Albus still had no idea why Greengrass thought that it mattered one whit to him, but that was neither here nor there. Since the man was in his eighties, perhaps he was simply going senile and everyone had the good grace to look the other way. That made far more sense than meeting some random bloke just because his blood was slightly purer and definitely more inbred than most of the rest of them in the room.

And just like that, Greengrass left. Before Albus could process what had just transpired, Scorpius came back with two very large glasses of punch. As per 'her' request, one was free of any alcohol, but Scorpius had no such willpower. These things were simply too damnably dull to go through it sober, he had said. As much as Albus had wanted to get sloshed, as well, he needed his wits about him.

To pass the time, they would alternate between dancing and sitting on the perimeter of the room, gossiping about who was seeing whom and who was jealous of that fact. Only sheer boredom could have made that half as amusing as it was, but it was something to do.

Much to Albus's annoyance, no one was asking him to dance. That had always been the easiest way to scout out information, but now he was relegated to Scorpius's visits to the bar for any reconnaissance. And then there was that bizarre conversation — if one could call it that — with Greengrass. There had to be something to it, but he could hardly just ask the man.

Patrick Hornby, eh? Peeling himself out of his seat, Albus was simply too curious to let it be. Not too far away, he spotted Scorpius's Aunt Daphne, and he was fairly certain that the man she was talking — well, more like arguing — with was her husband. He put on his best 'I'm completely lost' expression and wandered by the squabbling couple. It was hard to maintain, though, considering what they were arguing about.

"I'm not going to say it again, Patrick. We are not taking a serving girl home with us. I'm pretty sure it won't ruin the rest of your life if you don't have a threesome before you die."

Catching sight of Albus, Daphne blushed. "Melinda, dear, are you looking for Scorpius?"

"Well, sort of. It's just that…" Albus paused for dramatic effect, hoping that these two were either stupid or drunk enough to buy what he was going to say. "I want to dance, but no one will ask me because I'm with him. I was hoping that if I moved around, someone would pluck up the nerve."

Daphne seemed sympathetic, and she glared meaningfully at her husband. Hornby knew that he was already in trouble and likely knew what was good for him, which coincidentally was doing whatever his wife told him. "Miss, er, Melinda, would you care to dance?"

That had been far too easy. It was almost funny how simple it had become for Albus to use his 'feminine wiles' to get what he wanted. As Hornby took him out onto the dance floor, it struck him how accustomed he now was to being Melinda and not himself. At some point, the lines had blurred to the point where he was just as much Albus as he was her.

After a few minutes, Hornby asked, "So, you, er, heard what my wife and I —"

"Yes."

"I don't suppose you would want to —"

"No."

If the mere suggestion hadn't been so damned funny, Albus would have knocked the man silly. It did bring up a new question, though, and it was why the hell Greengrass had thought Melinda would want anything to do with this old pervert. If he didn't like his grandson's choice in girlfriends, perhaps he could have been less enigmatic and just ruddy well said so.

So they finished their dance in silence, but Albus couldn't let the opportunity pass to find out why he was supposed to be interested in Hornby. "So, Mr Greengrass said that your family is one of the purest of the pure-bloods. I admire your dedication, especially in times like these."

"You're telling me!" he said sharply. "Damned Mudbloods are everywhere. They're even letting them run the bloody country!"

Now that was an interesting turn. Get the man to stop thinking with his nob and he was actually useful. "Quite so. My father wouldn't have liked that. It's no wonder he stayed abroad until he died."

"Good man he was, then. It's nice to see some of you kids keeping to sensible ideals. Unlike that boyfriend of yours."

Albus shrugged. "Well, I can hardly condemn him because of that. He more than makes up for it."

That unsavoury look returned to Hornby's eyes — the one that meant his mind had wandered back to filthy territory. "Young stud like that? I'll bet."

Pretending shock and embarrassment, Albus said, "No, not like that! I meant that he's nice. My mum would have liked him. He's a nice, well-bred man that comes from an influential family. Nobody's perfect, but he comes close." He wanted to steer the conversation far from his sex life and back toward blood status. Hornby was a prime candidate to be a Knight, and if he didn't get any information that night, at least adding a suspect would be somewhat of an accomplishment.

"Well, you seem to be of a proper mind, so I might as well tell you that it won't be long before decent people like you and me don't have to keep our thoughts and beliefs behind closed doors."

Finally! "Oh," Albus said, trying not to sound nearly as excited as he really was.

"Let's just say that out with the new and in with the old will definitely change the balance of power."

The subject seemed to be closed, but it was definitely an enlightening conversation. Of course, he would have to reflect upon it later, because Albus spotted Scorpius coming toward them. Stopping, he said, "I believe I've been missed, so if you'll excuse me."

Scorpius nodded at Hornby. "Uncle Patrick." He all but snatched Albus away. "Nice to see you."

From his tone of voice, Albus was sure that Scorpius was not at all pleased to see Hornby. It might have had something to do with him being a dirty old man, but nevertheless, his interaction with Hornby was officially over. "We were just having a quick spin." Turning on his best charm, he added sweetly to Hornby, "And it was lovely to meet you."

With a bow, Hornby said, "Likewise, my dear. Have a good night."

As Albus was practically dragged away, Scorpius was obviously gritting his teeth in anger. He could barely keep up with the murderous pace with his much shorter legs.

"Oi!" Albus finally said, jerking his arm free. He was tired of being hauled around. Putting his fists on his hips like his mum did when she was angry, he hissed, "I can walk fine on my own, thank you. And what in the name of Merlin's most baggy y-fronts was that about, anyway?"

"He's a sleaze, Melinda! You're lucky he didn't throw you over his shoulder and shag you in the nearest empty room!"

Albus was completely incensed. It wasn't because his work had been interrupted; he was angry that Scorpius was treating him like a stupid little girl. "Ha! That's bloody likely. And who the hell are you to tell me who I can or can't talk to?"

Instead of being contrite, Scorpius only seemed to become more aggravated. "I'm only trying to look out for you! You don't know these people like I do, and I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can take care of myself. Fucking hell, I'm not a little girl!" Albus could practically see red, and he couldn't keep up his persona. The lines were dangerously blurred between who Melinda was supposed to be and the righteously angry Albus. "You have no right to order me around!" Very aware of how public their argument was becoming, he spun on his heel and stomped out of the ballroom, much like the angry little girl that he had just professed not to be.

He'd had enough. He was leaving as fast as he could get past the reach of the Anti-Apparition wards. Scorpius was calling for him to come back from behind him, but Albus was far too pissed off at him to oblige. "Go to hell," he shouted over his shoulder.

Just as he was about to reach the end of the grounds, Scorpius caught up to him. "Seriously, this is ridiculous! Why the hell are you being so…so mental?"

"Because I'm not yours to order around!" Albus practically shrieked. The sound was grating to his own ears, but he didn't care. "If I want to dance with a fucking goblin, I will! You have no say in the matter."

Scorpius raked his fingers through his hair. "So what I feel doesn't matter? The fact that I love you more than anyone else on this whole damned planet doesn't factor in at all? Do I really mean that little to you?"

That brought Albus pause. For months, he'd worried about hurting Scorpius unjustly, and that's what he had just done. That had never been his intention, but there was no taking it back now. "I'm sorry," he said softly before sitting on the ground and hugging his knees to his chest. "That all came out wrong."

Disarmed by the sudden change in 'her' demeanour, Scorpius sat down next to Albus and put an arm around his shoulders. "I shouldn't have acted like that. I only did it because I was worried about you, not because I didn't trust you."

The sincerity in Scorpius's voice made Albus want to throw up. He had just gone completely insane, and instead of being told he was out of order, the git had to go and apologise. "Don't do that."

"Do what," Scorpius asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Stop saying you're sorry. I'm being a complete bitch, and you're being far nicer to me than I deserve. You should be telling me to sod off." At this juncture, Albus wasn't even trying to be Melinda anymore. He was too distraught, and the fact that his eyes were starting to water just exacerbated that. As the tears started to spill, he roughly wiped them away. "Shit."

Scorpius pulled Albus close to him and stroked his hair. "No, you were right; I was being a jealous prat. I couldn't stand seeing his hands on you, and I overreacted. You just put me in my place is all." Then he chuckled. "Where did you learn to swear like that? You'd make an Auror blush."

His focus finally returning, Albus said, "Oh, just some things I picked up here and there. Nothing too sordid." He was still not ready to look Scorpius in the eye, but there was one thing he did have to do. "I'm sorry. I was horrible."

"Let's just forget it, okay?" Scorpius kissed the top of 'her' head. "Why don't we just call it a night?"

Albus allowed himself to be led all the way off the grounds, and Scorpius held him close as he Apparated them to the front steps of the hotel. Shooing off the footman, he let himself in and headed straight to the lifts. It would have been practical to work out some way of fending Scorpius off at the door, but he was just too tired of everything to bother. The entire thing made him sick, especially how it had made him act. He would have even gone so far as to say he hated himself for it.

The ride was completed in silence, and they traversed the hallway wordlessly, as well. As the door was charmed to open only to Albus's hand, he absently did so, not even caring that Scorpius followed him in. His male clothing was all tidied away, and anything incriminating was in the small office space in the next room over. There was just a lounge area and a bed in the immediate vicinity.

They both ended up on the couch, with Scorpius reclined on it sideways and Albus's smaller female form fitted into his side. He hadn't been held like that since he was really little, and it was oddly comforting. The feeling that he didn't have to worry about anything overrode the objections in the back of his mind.

It didn't take long before Scorpius's arms wrapped slowly around Albus's waist, purposely brushing the underside of 'her' breasts in the process. That did nothing for his nerves, and neither did the feel of hot breath on the curve of his neck. When that breath was replaced by soft, worshipping lips, any prior peace of mind was completely gone. In one quick motion, Scorpius rolled onto his back, and Albus found himself lying on top. He knew what it meant. They could either keep going or they could stop right there.

He was torn. On one hand, Albus was a guy. A straight guy. He didn't have sex with other men. But on the other, this body, this borrowed form, was on fire. It wanted Scorpius, no matter what Albus thought. Plus, this wasn't just any other man; this man loved and adored the person he thought that Albus was, and it was a heady feeling.

This was it. Albus had every right and opportunity to say no, and Scorpius would respect that decision, but something deep inside of him didn't want to refuse. All he had to do was surrender to it, just let it happen, and no one ever needed to know. Scorpius would do his best to be sweet and attentive, and that idea alone was appealing. It would be a completely different experience, but was that really such a bad thing?

But he had promised Ernie that he would respect his niece's body.

Scorpius would pay homage to it.

It had been a while.

To hell with Ernie.