A/N: Hey everyone- there is a lot of misdirection in this story. What you think is happening might not be, and what you think is happening, may be. I kind of don't want to say more, because it will give the ending away. It is a mystery, especially for Albus. This story is a novella, so it looks like it might run about ten chapters, if not less. I hope you guys will keep reviewing and let me know what you think.

And yes, it will be Albus/Scorpius.

Part Two:

Scorpius rolled his shoulder experimentally and winced as he walked. The chairs in that restaurant weren't exactly comfortable, even though they were padded with charms. Where did anyone find dragonhide chairs that were shaped like flower petals, anyway? Scorpius was only glad that if there was such as shop that his mother hadn't found it yet. The Manor was spelled to bursting with decades of antiquities (or rubbish) from all of his ancestors' collections and travels. One more hideous blue and purple chair could actually be the item that caused the wards to burst.

Scorpius smiled to himself, imagining the house exploding and all of their priceless artifacts on the front garden, like a cottage before the movers came to levitate it away. His parents would never live the shame down, if something like that was to happen to them. Scorpius would have to invest in a good Muggle camera, just in case. One never knew.

At this hour of the evening, the Ministry was closed to all but the most essential employees. Gone were the day tours from New Orleans and from Egypt, and the office clerks and staff had long packed it in, and gone home to their children, or at least their wand-ready meals. Scorpius didn't blame them. Nights like this he really didn't much relish coming in to the Ministry himself, especially on a full stomach of overly rich food that he hadn't much enjoyed. All Scorpius wanted was to take a good fly over London and then to bed before the day began again. Unfortunately for him, work was summoning.

But then again the siren song of the Auror department was inescapable. For as long as Scorpius could remember, he had wanted to be an Auror. When Scorpius had been little, he had forced his mum to Owl away for books and magazines on Aurors, even when he knew that his father would be annoyed to see them about the house. Scorpius would pour over them, fascinated, and determined. All he had ever wanted, since he knew he could perform magic, was to be the best Auror alive. Scorpius was fascinated by books on Merlin and his sagas; he had wanted to out-duel Severus Snape; he had wanted to fly faster than all the Arrows players combined.

Thinking back on it, Scorpius wondered if it was a sign he was different, even then. Scorpius had always wanted to be more wizard than wizard, even before he could cast a jinx. When he broke bones, he wouldn't cry- in fact, once, he begged the Healers not to Potion him, just so he could see what it would be like to heal Muggle-style.

As Scorpius' Aunt Daphne always said about her energetic nephew, Scorpius was constantly on a mission, even if he hadn't been granted one.

But right now, Scorpius' shoes echoed on the dark marble floor, in cool isolation. Scorpius smiled at that. Whenever he was alone in the Ministry on a night Floo, Scorpius always had the urge to throw out a spell, or a jinx, or even a hex down the long warded path that led to the bullpen. Scorpius' hand itched for his wand, imagining the illumination that he could produce, lighting the hallway in brilliant, sparkling beams of momentary light. But then again, anyone could be here, including his supervisors. Scorpius had the terrifically bad habit of getting caught breaking rules. Just last week when Jamie, Teddy and Scorpius had raced office supplies . . .

Scorpius was in front of the Head Aurors office. His mind shifted from a prank to break up the monotony, to the task ahead.

Self consciously, Scorpius smoothed his hands over his jumper. Any time Scorpius went to the Head Auror's office, even if it was for a slight error in his parchment filing, Scorpius felt tense. Going to see the head of the greatest magical law enforcement department in the world never became comfortable. Scorpius never got over his awe of the situation, perhaps, in part, because he was doing everything he could to be the next wizard to occupy that seat.

Scorpius knocked on the door, and without waiting for a reply, he walked into the room. Even though the door to the office was small, the office itself was in fact quite spacious, due to the layering of various charms and spells. The room was paneled with oak, giving it a very masculine feel- in a vague way it reminded Scorpius of a room in the Manor which had manticore heads permanently stuck to the wall. Grandmother called the smoking room. Scorpius had never asked what had been smoked there.

There was no manticore heads in the Head Auror's office, thankfully. Instead, the Head Auror had used Muggle nails to put up dozens of charmed photographs of his family and friends. Sometimes, while Scorpius was getting scolded, he liked to tune out of the conversation, and glance at them. They were fascinating- especially seeing Lily at nine with her hair cut like a kneazle had coughed up a rag doll onto her head. Scorpius had used that one against her for weeks. But the rest were brilliant- like seeing Harry Potter with the Weird Sisters. Or Harry Potter with Moira Tate- the best female Beater alive.

However, Scorpius was not amused by the lone photo of the spotty version of himself, arm-in-arm with Teddy and Jamie. He looked as though he had rubbed all the grease of an emptied chip basket on himself. That had been a bad year. Or three.

"Malfoy," the Head Auror interrupted his thoughts. "I charmed that coin twenty minutes ago."

"I'm sorry, sir," Scorpius lifted his aching shoulder. Scorpius wasn't on the Floo line this evening, but he had several open cases, and he knew that the department was short staffed as it was. Scorpius shouldn't have gone out- the food was a bothersome weight in his stomach, reminding him that he had both a Dueling and Stealth module in the morning. Scorpius also needed to clear some of his parchment before the New Year, and Yule was rapidly approaching. Red spellotape on his file would only keep him from any promotion, and it would all add up, eventually.

Scorpius wondered if the Head Auror had ever felt as though he was being incarcerated into his career, as much as he was dedicated to it. Scorpius looked at him- powerful, remote, even his glasses a shield from a counterattack. Everything about him was a ward; his broad figure overpowering his black leather chair. Even the steely streak of grey in his messy hair only existed to remind the world of his might.

"It's fine," the Head Auror said it in a way that was meant to both soothe any ruffled feathers, and to remind Scorpius that by being late, he had nearly disobeyed a direct order. "I sent out Booth and Grey. How is the Copper Cauldron Company case?"

"We've traced the majority of the gold to an off-Apparition estate in Barmouth," Scorpius couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride. It had taken him four days to trace down the gold that the Cauldron Company was embezzling. He had managed it all alone, through a maze of intimidation, Floo calls, and trips to terrified family members. Scorpius was sure with just a little more time, he would trace the illegal brews and wares that the company was selling.

"Good," the Head Auror did look pleased then, and for the faintest moment, Scorpius could see a hint of pride in his bright green-gold eyes. You have to admit I'm good, Scorpius thought wickedly, I'm the best Auror you have, Harry Potter.

"I'm passing the CCC case to Jamie," the Head Auror stated evenly, and Scorpius felt his stomach drop. That was his case. It couldn't be passed to Jamie, not when Scorpius had put in days and nights of work; chasing down distant relatives of the boardwizards, and bitter ex-employees to piece together this nearly-seamless case. No. Not when Scorpius needed one good opportunity to get a promotion in the New Year. No.

"Please don't," Scorpius mumbled, knowing that once the Head Auror had made up his mind, he would not change it without a logical reason. Scorpius shuffled through the evidence he had gathered in his mind, but he couldn't come up with a single piece of information that he had withheld while putting together the file, or a single hunch that Scorpius could use as leverage to keep the case from being transferred to James Potter. Scorpius had given his all to that project, and now he had nothing. The injustice stung.

"I know that I can bring this case to the Wizengamot, sir," Scorpius murmured softly, staring at the whorls in the wooden armrest. He had already lost the war, but Scorpius had to say that- to stake a claim to the battle. "I know I would win."

"I don't doubt you," the Head Auror said gently. "You know that I don't doubt you. You're talented, so talented, Snitch. Don't take this as a personal attack."

Scorpius looked up sharply at the use of his nickname. "Then why-"

"You have four open cases," the Head Auror rose from his desk and rounded across the room. Scorpius watched him move, amazed as always by the Transfiguration that Harry Potter was able to manage in plain sight. Everyone knew what Harry Potter looked like- he had been made into lampoons and he had been the subject of adoration- but no one knew what he truly looked like until he moved. Scorpius watched him, fascinated by the slight pacing and the slow revelation the each step brought to light.

Everyone described the Head Auror in the same manner- lovely piercing green eyes, dark messy hair, athletic broad build, scar. But his real beauty was in the clench of his jaw when he dueled; it was in the way the Head Auror popped his knuckles when he was truly annoyed; and in the gold-green flash in his eyes when he found something amusing. That was what made Harry Potter the ideal wizard, in every sense of the word.

The Head Auror paused in front of Scorpius' chair. "Four cases. You are supposed to have them cleared by the New Year, Malfoy. I'm lightening your workload."

"I have three other cases you could transfer," Scorpius mumbled, staring at the chair and the gentle curls of the wood. As soon as he said it, Scorpius winced- he had just told Harry Potter how to do his job. Brilliant. One of these days he was going to end up back with the first year Aurors, monitoring their rounds on Diagon.

"Malfoy," the clench in the Head Auror's jaw had appeared with a vengeance. "I transferred this case for a reason. I did not transfer the others because they were not priority, as you well know. None of this was to penalize you, or to advance my son. Jamie and Warrington simply do not have as much parchment to slog through at the moment, and I need you on the field. How is your shoulder?"

"I'm fine," Scorpius lied horribly. It ached, constantly, bordering on pain. "It's fine."

Auror Potter leaned forward and frowned. "I want you to see a medic in the morning. Have you been taking your potions for it?"

"No," Scorpius frowned. He couldn't stand them. They made him groggy and fatigued, even if he had had a full night's rest. Scorpius had taken a week's worth, and then hadn't bothered to ever refill the potion at the Apothecary.

"Snitch," Harry whispered. "For Merlin's sake, don't be stupid."

Scorpius edged forward slightly. His heart pounding in his too-hot jumper, Scorpius slid down in his chair, and spread his legs slowly, carefully, until the meaning was made lewdly clear. Behind the Head Auror's eyes, there was a small flicker of recognition. Scorpius watched carefully, his legs quivering in the hard chair, waiting for the instant that Harry Potter glanced down to the warm space between his thighs. It took a long, desperate moment, but finally Auror Potter's eyes fluttered slightly.

"You need to take care of yourself," the Head Auror frowned slightly, a cease forming between his brows. "If you get hurt on a mission, think of the people who care about you. So you'll see a medic tomorrow."

Scorpius ducked his head in compliance. "Are you leaving, sir?"

"Yes," the Head Auror lifted a load of scrolls. "I'll walk you out to the Atrium. Are you taking the Floo, Malfoy? Or did you have your broom with you?"

"I'll Floo," Scorpius said, walking towards the door, side by side with Harry Potter.

"On a scale of one to ten," Jamie began, taking off his glasses to clean them on the sleeve of his robes, "With one being pleased and ten being murderously enraged-how annoyed were you that my father took you off the case?"

"Hmm," Scorpius stared into his mug of tea. A day had passed, and now, thinking about it all, he felt really sort of embarrassed; Scorpius had gone beyond the spell in the way he had laid claim to that one case- as though it was a homicide, or a missing persons. But, to take the other point of view, Scorpius had put in all that work, and to hand it over to Jamie wasn't fair. That case had potential. It had the potential to be solved neatly, and it had the potential to change an Auror's career. Scorpius couldn't help but feel regret, annoyance, and frustration- along with a host of other emotions too varied to name. Maybe he had put too much of himself into that one case, and it had been to the detriment of the others he had slightly ignored. But he had done it with the best of intentions.

"Sorry I asked," Jamie sighed. "It wasn't fair for my father to do that to you, Snitch. I mean, Aurors get injured all the time-"

Scorpius smiled grimly. He was back on the potions- only because the medic who had tended to his shoulder this time had flagged his parchment for review. So Scorpius had dutifully gone back to tipping the poison in order to escape desk duty. Usually Scorpius would have tried one more plea with the Head Auror, just for the Gobstones, but after what had happened to his case, Scorpius didn't dare risk it. Even though it was egotistical of him to think it, Scorpius sometimes felt as though Fate was holding him back from ever being a successful Auror.

Scorpius took a large sip of his tea on that note, wincing as he burned the roof of his throat.

"If it goes anywhere," Jamie shrugged. "We'll put your name on it, we'll get that sorted. Warrington's agreed."

"You mean you held Warrington's wand to the flame until he gave in," Scorpius smiled. Jamie was the type of person that once they made up their minds about something, or to do a task, they put their all into it. And Jamie's loyalty was like that as well- Scorpius chalked it up to the Weasley characteristic of playing member in a trio exceedingly well. The only real rows that Scorpius and Jamie had ever had were either before they had been friends, or when Scorpius did things without telling Jamie. That was the Potter contribution to his makeup. Jealousy. Lily and Jamie had joint custody, and they did not have visitation laid out for other friends.

"I might have done worse," James shrugged, his dark eyes glittering behind his glasses, and Scorpius tensed. At times in school, Jamie's sense of humor had bordered on the sadistic. With James' guidance, the pair of them had broken up couples, gotten Ravenclaws suspended, and Transfigured school property into items only found in certain shops on Knockturn. Back then Scorpius had thought everything was hilarious, even the truly vile, but now, he wished he hadn't done. Even the next day after their rampages, Scorpius was always too nice for Jamie's taste.

"James," Scorpius frowned. "I thought you were thinking of reforming."

"We broke up," That was girlfriend number three hundred and sixty-two for the year, then. "She snored."

"How did you never notice?" Scorpius asked.

"She never stayed the night," Jamie shrugged and Scorpius snorted.

"That's not why we broke up!" Jamie huffed. "It was just boring, I guess. You shouldn't be with someone if you're bored. So then I broke it off. She didn't even mind, so I suppose it's all for the best. What about you, Snitch?"

"I had dinner with your brother," Scorpius had waited until James had taken a sip of his pumpkin juice, just to see the reaction. Jamie managed to retain his dignity and not splutter, but only just. He did make a face that looked as though he had been jinxed by a faulty wand, however.

"If you're having dinner with Albus," James sighed, "It means that you're no longer scraping the barrel. You've gone through it, Snitch. You've hit the ground and you're hexing yourself holes. In fact- you're on the level of Inferi."

Scorpius made a face. "You know that you're comparing your own brother to the animated dead?"

Jamie made another face back, this one worse than the one he had made before, as if he had to compensate for being stuck momentarily dumb by making the most animated faces possible.

"Why are you defending my brother?" James accused, and Scorpius rolled his eyes. Apparently Albus Potter hadn't made Jamie Potter's list of approved friends for Snitch Malfoy, best mate to former Hogwarts Quidditch Captains. "Are you two really shagging, then? He's not a Gryffindor, you know."

"Thanks, that tragic Obliviate wore off, " Scorpius answered sarcastically. "I know who I am, again, Potter. Now we can go back to hating each other like when I was an ickle first year, and you can stop pretending to be my friend."

"Hilarious," James frowned, taking a sip of his drink cautiously, as though he no longer trusted his friend. "But are you shagging Al?"

"No," Scorpius murmured. He didn't know why he felt the need to defend Albus. Except Albus had always been on the sidelines during their childhood, and somewhat alone. Jamie had always had this virulent urge to prank Al, as if it were a scratch he couldn't help but itch, but Scorpius always tried to stop or prevent him as much he could. Albus seemed gentler in his own, odd way. Maybe it had something to do with missing his mother; something that didn't seem to be apart of Lily and Jamie's immediate life anymore. But maybe it was. All the same, Scorpius just felt sorry for Albus. He knew what it was like to be misunderstood and then isolated.

"He wants to throw a party," Scorpius shrugged. "For Lily, for her birthday."

"Lily isn't going to like anything Al does," James said carelessly and Scorpius winced internally. Harsh. Harsh, but accurate.

"That is why we are going to help him," Scorpius smiled serenely.

"We?" Jamie frowned.

"We," Scorpius glared back.