Author's Chapter Notes:

*in my best TV disclaimer voice*

There is heavy sexual content in this chapter. Viewer discretion is advised.

With a guttural groan, Albus made the first move by running his hands under Scorpius's shirt, letting his nails gently drag against the warm flesh. Grunting in approval, Scorpius firmly gripped Albus from behind, pulling him so close that their faces were less than an inch apart.

"Are you sure?"

The fire deep inside his belly was all the answer Albus needed. "Yes." It wasn't about what he wanted anymore. It was all about this pulsating need that throbbed in his blood like war drums. Each beat came closer and faster as he threw caution to the wind and stepped brazenly toward that razor's edge that separated pleasure from madness. It made him want it.

Somehow, they managed to stumble over to the bed, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake. Hungry lips met in search of that elusive closeness, that last millimetre of space that separated them ever present. Hands sought their sweet education in soft curves and smooth plains.

His mouth departing for an exploratory journey, Scorpius left a trail of feather-soft kisses down Albus's jaw, paying close attention to the sensitive skin of his neck. Stars exploded behind Albus's eyes as the pure delight shivered through him. He could vaguely hear his own cries of desire, and they somehow managed to fuel his own passions

Albus had no words at all for what happened next. As Scorpius's lips moved even further down, he could feel a heaviness in his lower abdomen. The closer that marauding mouth came to its intended destination, the more a burning expectation pooled. This was insanity. This was torture. This was —

"Oh, shit," Albus hissed. As this ardent invader teased and taunted its prey, molten ecstasy raged into every corner of Albus's consciousness. He could feel his voice rasping out some sort of sound, but he couldn't hear it. Everything was going blank to the point where he wasn't even sure where 'up' was anymore.

The edge was oh-so-incredibly near, as was the tenuous grasp that Albus had on reality. He needed release so badly that he could taste it. He was willing to beg, to plead — anything — in order to get it. The words that had been meant to appeal for amnesty came out in something more resembling a mangled sob. No one was meant to handle this. This delirious rapture was so intense that it was almost painful. It hurt so much that it felt like he could die from it.

When Scorpius raised his head and the torture stopped, the humming of his body didn't halt along with it. As Albus still murmured incoherently, that mouth was on his, coaxing and encouraging; they restored him and gave him back some of the breath that had been stolen moments before.

Drawing back, Scorpius said so sweetly, "I love you."

Albus stared up at those smouldering grey eyes in wonder. This experience hadn't been borne of some base need or raw attraction; it was a testament to something that he had never truly understood until that very moment — love. Only something that pure could take feral, animalistic desire and turn it into liquid emotion strong enough and deep enough to drown them both.

"I love you," Albus admitted to himself and to Scorpius out loud. And it was true. How the hell they had got there, he had no idea, but Albus loved Scorpius truly and profoundly. This man who had taken him out to lunch for upsetting a barrel of gurdyroot, who had so meaningfully distanced himself from the Knights and didn't give a damn what anyone thought about it, who cared enough to be angry over an innocent dance with a lecher, had somehow come to mean everything to him. "I love you," he repeated, the new and wondrous phrase too perfect to say only once.

Scorpius kissed him again, and finally, that final gap was erased. He couldn't stand the idea of that distance, and he could only gasp and moan as his senses were assaulted with a constant torrent of euphoria over and over again, pushing toward that edge once more in a natural rhythm that seemed to be tailored just for them.

Sweat was beading all over Scorpius's body. Albus knew he was about to finish and desperately wanted that last moment to be the best of them all. He pulled that face — that familiar, adoring face — down to his own and tried to convey what his mind and body were too immersed in insanity to say.

They tumbled together off that never-ending precipice and collapsed together, breathless, sated, and still joined. Neither of them spoke, because they were still connected in spirit; each knew how the other felt, and it was glorious.

It didn't take long for Albus to realise that Scorpius was asleep, but that was okay. He had worked so hard to give the person he loved his absolute best, so Albus was content to lay there, the pleasant weight on his chest as sleep encroached upon his consciousness, as well. Just before he succumbed to it, he had the wherewithal to swallow the spare Polyjuice pill from his bracelet receptacle. The time would come when he would tell Scorpius everything, but this moment was far too perfect to mar with such heavy things.

Albus awoke a few hours later, still immersed in a cloud of bliss. Scorpius was still asleep but had rolled over to the other side of the bed. Still naked, he felt a chill in the air that bit at his exposed skin, since they had fallen asleep on top of the covers. He had no desire to put that damned dress back on, and it would have been inadvisable to wear his own pyjamas, as they were men's clothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he happened to spot Scorpius's dress robes on the floor. That would do nicely.

As Albus pulled the garment around him, he inhaled deeply, catching Scorpius's unique scent, which was a twist of citrus and something a bit earthier. The fragrance enveloped his senses, flinging him back to just hours before when he had given in to the inevitability of falling for someone like Scorpius. With a contented sigh, he padded into the loo.

When he turned on the light, he saw his face in the mirror. There were streaks of kohl smeared on his cheeks, and his hair was nearly a rat's nest, but that didn't matter. All he could see was the softer jaw line and the finer eyebrows and the brown eyes. None of these were his. These weren't Albus. Albus loved Scorpius, not this female form he assumed because he had to, but Scorpius didn't love Albus. He loved Melinda — or at least who he thought Melinda was.

That face, though, was all Albus was to the person he loved. He hated that face now, because it meant that he had to continue deceiving Scorpius. The rest of them could go to hell — he didn't care what they thought — but how was he supposed to keep lying to someone who has never been less than honest with him? He would have been disgusted with anyone else for doing so, and if Albus was anything, he was pretty sure he wasn't a hypocrite.

He still had a job to do. No matter how much he wanted to go into the other room at that very second and tell Scorpius everything, Albus knew he didn't have that option. But what he did have now was extra motivation to crack this damned case so he could finally be honest with the man he loved.

The man he loved. It still sounded odd to Albus. He had never in his wildest dreams thought that he would be sexually attracted to another man, let alone be head over heels for one. And up to that moment, he never had been, but it was almost as if he had fallen for Scorpius, who just happened to be a bloke. At first, he had written off the attraction as a side effect of his feminine chemistry and instincts, but he hadn't stopped thinking about Scorpius while he was himself. It had only taken a while to realise it.

Albus angrily scrubbed off the residual make-up. It was yet another deception to the world, and it made him feel filthy. After his skin had been scrubbed nearly raw, he walked slowly back to the bed. Scorpius was sprawled out on his belly, his pale flesh glowing in the residual light from the bathroom. He was so very much at peace and had no idea that he was being made a mockery by the 'woman' he loved so very much. And he would continue to remain ignorant, because there was no other way around it.

Sullenly, he climbed back into bed, turning his back to Scorpius. He couldn't stand to look at him — not after everything that had happened. All he could do was take another Polyjuice pill, curl up into the borrowed robe, and fight the annoying urge to cry himself to sleep because he could still smell the leavenings of their lovemaking and had the nerve to want more of it.

After nearly an hour of lip-biting and pathetic sniffles in the dark, Albus was finally able to sleep again, but he got no rest from it. All he could see in his mind was Scorpius treasuring this fake person's body, this woman who didn't exist outside of visage. Every caress, every kiss, every stroke played out for his express torture. He could feel his own voice, calling out in the throes of passion, but all he could hear was Melinda, stealing those murmurs of adoration.

The feel of a hand tracing the curve of his hip brought Albus out of his steamy dream state. Looking over his shoulder, he could see Scorpius, whose hair was practically alight in the sunshine pouring through the window, giving him a sort of halo. That didn't help Albus's rampant guilt at all; if anything, it just made his state of mind that much worse.

"Hi, beautiful," Scorpius said softly, his hand sliding down to caress the side of 'her' breast.

Even through the fabric that was swaddled around him, Albus felt his body vibrate with the contact. He struggled to remain composed. "Hey," he said lamely, unable to say anything more.

Before he knew it, Albus found himself pulled into a straddling position on top of Scorpius, his scant covering falling around his waist. There was a devilish gleam in Scorpius's eye, which meant that he was in the mood for an encore of the previous night's activities. The most compelling of evidence was brushing against his bare bottom.

"Care for breakfast, love?" He was obviously not referring to food.

Albus knew he should have begged off on principle, considering the fact that the closer they got, the more it would hurt them both when fate was to play itself out, but he was too weak. His principles had already been irreparably damaged by one night of lovemaking. No matter how bad of an idea it was, he was perfectly willing to exacerbate the matter.

This time went far more quickly, but Albus wasn't sure if he could have lived through such intense sensation. This was far more primal than the sweet, careful coupling that they had shared the night before, yet no less precious or satisfying. Scorpius was splayed out, chest heaving, trying to catch that elusive breath of recovery, not even able to keep his eyes open.

The idea of even moving seemed like too much to ask. Albus wanted to sit there and never leave. Even with the unfamiliar nature of being on the other side of the sexual coin, he knew that he would never experience sex this good with anyone else. Even their quick morning shag eclipsed every other encounter he'd ever had in its sheer level of satisfaction afterward.

But that satisfaction didn't last long as Albus realised that no matter how much he wished that it would never end, all he was doing was making it that much harder down the line. It was the only thing that got him to slide off the bed in search of a fresh change of clothes, which Scorpius, after much procrastination, did as well.

As Albus dug through the trunk that held all of his female clothing, he could hear Scorpius humming an unrecognisable tune. He found himself drumming his fingers to the beat, which kept him from noticing right away that the initial sound had abruptly stopped. Curious, he turned to see what was up, and what he saw made his heart stop.

It was a pair of pants, but they weren't Melinda's pants. They were his regular men's shorts, and they were currently dangling rather accusingly from Scorpius's hand. "Whose are these?"

Shit. All Albus could do was stare at the simplest and meanest of garments, for it was the downfall of countless weeks of hard work. His only two options were to either tell Scorpius everything or say nothing. There was no way Albus could lie his way out of his boyfriend finding another man's boxers in his room. And telling him the truth wasn't even an option, really. The only thing left to do was to stand there, clutching a bundle of clothing to his chest as if it would protect him from what he knew was coming.

"Nothing to say, Melinda?" There was ice in Scorpius's voice. Every hint at the loving joviality from not fifteen minutes before had evaporated.

"No," Albus said quietly, feeling positively ill. There was no defence, and his averted eyes would confirm that.

Looking at the pants in disgust, Scorpius flung them onto the floor. "So this is why you didn't want to… What did I do wrong? What did I do to make you want to go fuck some other bloke while you sat there laughing and pretended to care about me? What did I do?"

Scorpius was shouting, but Albus deserved it. He deserved every indignant word that poured from that mouth that had whispered such sweet things hours before. No, he hadn't done what he was being accused of, but his sin was far worse. "I'm sorry," he said weakly. "For everything."

Jabbing his finger in Albus's direction, Scorpius hissed, "Don't you dare say you're sorry. If you were really sorry, you wouldn't have done it." He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging in frustration. "I just don't understand. Why would you even bother if—" Scorpius paused, and his face had a look of revelation. "You are sleeping with my dad, aren't you?"

"No!" Albus said vehemently. "Just… no! He's shagging one of the serving girls from the party, I think." Now he wished that he had been able to find out who was in that room with Draco on Christmas Eve. Now that he had caught some of his composure, Albus decided to try a different tactic. "Listen, I know this looks bad, and you have every right to be angry and not trust me. But please, if you really do love me, hear me out."

Though he looked doubtful, Scorpius gave a slight nod. Albus at least had the opportunity to keep the entire thing from blowing up in his face. "There is a very good reason why those are there, but I can't tell you what that is right now. I'm definitely not having sex with him, but I also can't tell you who 'he' is. I know it sounds weird, but it's as much of the truth as I can give you."

"Ha!" Scorpius said with a sneer. "You are un-fucking-believable, you know that? All you've done since I've met you is push me away, but like a complete idiot, I keep coming back for more, insisting that you're just quirky or shy. That's my fault for assuming you were who I wanted you to be, but I'm not that stupid, sweetheart."

"Stop it!" Albus cried. "Just stop it!" He was beyond maintaining any sort of ruse. All that he could think about was keeping Scorpius in the room, even if he had to endure the pure bitterness that was coming his way.

If possible, Scorpius became even more livid. "You stop it! You've lied to me enough, and I'm sick of it. No matter what I did, it just wasn't good enough for Princess-fucking-Melinda, was it? Am I not pure-blooded enough for you? Is it because I'm not a Knight of bloody Walpurgis, planning to overthrow the Ministry and take over?"

"It's not you! I— " Albus stopped when he realised what Scorpius had just said about the Knights. "What did you mean by that?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Oh, so now I'm interesting enough for you. Fantastic."

Shaking his head, Albus said, "No, what you said about the Knights. It's really important." His relationship may have just imploded, but if he could at least get Scorpius to say what he knew, then it would not be a complete disaster.

"They're always on about it, and…wait, why the hell am I discussing this with you?" He almost stabbed his limbs into his clothing, essentially closing off any chance for further conversation. Stalking toward the door, Scorpius didn't look in Albus's direction at all until his hand touched the knob. It was as if something had occurred to him. "You know, I think the worst part of all is that last night, you looked me in the eye and said that you loved me. You must be an exceedingly good liar."

Everything else up to that point, Albus had felt he deserved. The one thing he couldn't stand was Scorpius saying that he lied about that. "I do love you! How could I lie to you about that?"

"How can you lie about being a virgin?" He finally looked back at Albus, but it was more akin to a glare. "How did you pull that one off?"

Desperate for these to not be the last words they ever said to one another, Albus pleaded, "You don't understand. I'm—"

The near confession was truncated with one last barb. "Shut it! Just shut it! I'm sick of your games." Scorpius yanked the door open and slammed it behind him, emphasising the finality of his departure. The sound resonated in Albus's brain like a hammer striking an anvil. It was over. Not only his investigation, but also, whatever tremulous bond that he had formed with Scorpius, the only human being that he'd ever truly cared about outside of family, had been irreparably wounded. His heart physically hurt; his stomach was roiling dangerously, and he barely made it to the toilet in time to spill its contents in retch after shuddering retch. How could he not, when his life was essentially over? If he didn't finish the investigation — and it looked like that was now impossible — then he'd probably lose his job. After all this, he seriously doubted his ability to love someone romantically ever again. What did he have left?

4 May, 2039

"How could you have let this happen, Potter? You just threw away seven months of work!"

Jenkins angrily slapped a copy of the previous day's Daily Prophet onto his desk, complete with the front-page article that Albus had already seen. It gushed on and on about the scandalous break-up between society's favourite young couple. Most of it was provided by a cleaning lady at the hotel who had heard some of their argument as she was passing by, plus some of the eyewitnesses form the ill-fated exit from the Victory Day ball at the Bletchleys'.

Rubbing his face in his hands, Jenkins groaned. "How long do you think it'll take before they figure out that there is no real Melinda Macmillan? These people aren't that bloody stupid."

"Don't you think I know that!" Albus snapped, nearly forgetting that he would have normally preferred being flayed than to speak to his supervisor like that. "There's nothing I can do about it. He's gone, and now I'm stuck."

If possible, Jenkins was even more frustrated. "Do you at least have something?"

The dire mood lifted somewhat as Albus related what Hornby had told him about things changing and whatever drivel had come along with it. While it had been interesting and pertinent at the time, Albus couldn't bring himself to give a damn. All he could think of was what Scorpius had said. He had truly not believed that it wasn't something he'd done wrong. He just wouldn't see that Albus was the villain, the bastard, the liar, the—

"Wait a minute!" Finally remembering Scorpius's offhand remark about the Knights, Albus said, "Scorpius said something about the Knights! He was banging on about… some things, and he said something about them planning a Ministry takeover." He couldn't believe that he'd forgotten something so vital, but if any of it was true, perhaps it wasn't too late to stop it.

Instead of looking excited or at least happy to have such a crucial piece of news, Jenkins blanched. "Are you sure that's what you heard? Are you completely sure?"

When Albus nodded, Jenkins started muttering to himself. This went on for nearly five minutes before the latter said, "Lay low for a while, but if you can, try to find out some more. We may just salvage this whole thing yet."

21 June, 2039

Albus found himself yet again in the familiar routine of applying a beastly amount of make-up and putting on yet another air-restricting dress for the sake of his job. To his surprise, two weeks before, he had received an invitation to the Montagues' Solstice party to celebrate the coming of summer. It was a completely ridiculous reason to hold an event, but he suspected it was more about parents having one last bit of fun before their kids came back from Hogwarts.

Really, Albus just suspected it was going to end up being people trying to get him and Scorpius near one another for some entertainment. As much as this made him not want to go, he knew he had to. He'd already done enough damage by not being careful, so he would have to tread lightly this time around.

He was running very late, mostly because he didn't have the advantage of someone to pick him up an hour early for every engagement. Also, he couldn't be bothered to care what anyone thought about Melinda anymore. He still hated her. If he never had to swallow another Polyjuice pill, it would be too soon.

Finally, when Albus arrived, it was just as he suspected. There were not-so-discreet whispers from all around the room, and most of the ones he could make out were speculative of why 'she' and Scorpius had split. They'd had almost two months to postulate, but neither of them had given anyone an answer. It was Albus's fervent wish that they not get one, either. The last thing he needed was to be called to Jenkins's office and fired on the spot. Plus, that would necessitate a rather uncomfortable run-in with Scorpius. No matter how much time had passed, he still wasn't ready to see that look of disdain again anytime soon.

Within five minutes, 'Melinda' had already been monopolised on the dance floor by anyone and everyone looking to pump 'her' for information about the gossip columns' current favourite subject. It gave Albus satisfaction to thwart their efforts, since it really wasn't any of their business anyway. That had become the normal conversation until one of the last of the night, and that was with Greengrass.

"I see you talked to Hornby. I'm sure Jenkins was happy with that little nugget."

Gobsmacked, Albus froze on the spot. "I… I have no idea what you mean, Mr Greengrass. Who is Jenkins?"

Bowing showily as if the dance was completed normally, Greengrass said under his breath, "Outside. Five minutes. Rose garden."

Nodding, Albus could only stare in confusion as Greengrass melted away in the crowd. What the hell was he talking about, and how much did he know about Jenkins? How did he know? There really was no other option than to comply.

As instructed, Albus was in the rose garden five minutes later. The second they were within five feet of one another, Greengrass cast a Silencing Charm around them. He looked around for anyone watching and said, "Disillusion yourself. We can't be seen."

Still in the dark, Albus did as he was told. This man apparently needed to say something damned important, and it seemed to be crucial that no one else hear it. And he was tired of being ordered around. "What the hell are you on about, anyway?"

"I know you're working for the Ministry, and I'm pretty sure I know who you are, as well."

Albus's breath seized in his chest. "I have no idea what you mean. Why would I be working for the Ministry?"

"You can stop with the ruse, Potter. Both of us know there is no Melinda Macmillan."

There was definitely something off about this whole thing, and Albus wanted to know what it was. "Are you really Richard Greengrass?"

"Of course, you fool! Don't you ever pay attention?" At Albus's silence, he harrumphed. "I've been working with the Ministry for years, providing information on the Knights, and you've read my reports for the past five years under the name 'Michael Millegan'. Why do you think I told you to talk to Hornby?"

Recognising the name, thus confirming Greengrass's veracity, Albus said, "I just thought you were a dotty old man that hated his grandson's girlfriend enough to send her to a lecherous old bastard. Not that I blame you, though."

"That's why I wanted to talk to you, Potter. I'm worried about my grandson."

With a sigh, Albus said, "Yeah, I know I broke his heart. Don't think for a second that I don't already feel like shit for that, but there was no other way."

Another grunt of annoyance told Albus that it wasn't what Greengrass had meant. "Not that. You've got bigger problems."

"How so?" Albus couldn't think of anything at the moment worse than wrecking both his and Scorpius's life.

"They're after you."