(I'm so glad that all my lovely readers seem to be enjoying the beginning of the sequel. ^^ I have so many plans, so little rhyme or reason, it promises to be quite interesting as it all comes together in my head. I hope that everyone continues to enjoy, and that whatever twists and turns I take will be welcomed with an open mind. Enjoy. :D
By the way, I'm sorry for the delay, lovely readers, but since I'm back at school now, I'll have less time to write, and less time to allow my muse its freedom, so… Yes. It makes me sad. But just be patient, lovely readers, it'll be worth it!)

By the time the opening feast was over, James was more than ready to retire to Gryffindor Tower. Their professors had insisted that everyone sit at their proper tables, as usual at the beginning of the year, so as not to confuse the newly-sorted first years, and Alistair Zabini had sat as close as possible to Scorpius at the Slytherin table without being in his lap. The worst part was that Scorpius hadn't seemed to mind the closeness one little bit. He was even smiling, encouraging the closeness. And Zabini had definitely accepted the invitation.

James ground his teeth together and dug his nails deep into his palms, glaring at his plate like it was the one flirting with the guy he had a crush on instead of that slimy, low down, no-good, whoring git of a Slytherin Zabini.

"Lighten up, James, you're going to end up scaring the first years," whispered Albus from his seat beside him, giving him a light nudge in the side with his elbow. "What are you already so angry about, anyway? The new year's barely even started yet and you're already acting like someone's spat in your pumpkin juice."

James fought and resisted the urge to growl in frustration. Barely. "Don't you see the two of them over there?" He gestured briefly toward the green-and-silver flooded table, and Albus glanced that way curiously, waving at Scorpius when their eyes caught. The blonde waved in return and then turned back to his conversation with Zabini. Albus turned back to James looking perplexed, clearly not seeing what he did.

"What are you talking about? Scorpius? What's he done wrong to you now from all the way over there?" James felt like slapping himself in the forehead. Or better yet, slapping his little brother in the forehead. At times like this, it was easy to imagine that maybe Albus didn't have a crush on Scorpius at all. He seemed completely oblivious to the flirting going on between the two Slytherins across the room, which was impossible considering its blatancy. Or was it only his imagination, his jealousy, that made the two seem so close in a crowded room?

"Nevermind," he muttered, and drained his goblet of pumpkin juice with the idle thought that it would be nice if he could have something just a little bit stronger. "Albus." He could feel his brother's gaze once more without turning his head to meet it. "Remember that one time when we broke into Draco's liquor cabinet and drank all that premium rum?"

Albus' lingering confusion over James' behavior quickly shifted into a grin, distracted by the memory. "Oh, boy, he was pissed with all three of us for weeks. We drank the very best of what he had, too, and we didn't even know it. I think he was even angrier at Scorpius, though, since he got us into the cabinet in the first place, remember?" James nodded, reflecting back on the incident as he took another swallow from his goblet.

On several things in the Manor, including the various liquor cabinets and the basement, spells had been set up since before they had ever moved in to keep nosy meddlers out (children or otherwise), but Scorpius knew how to get by most of them, having lived there quite a lot longer than the rest of the Potters. Harry had kicked up a fuss about it one time, but whatever Draco had done to placate him on the matter – not that they were looking for details – had caused the issue to drop and the spells to remain.

"I'm not very hungry tonight," mumbled James, swinging one leg over the bench to get up from the table. He waved aside Albus' immediate concern, already seeing it flare up on the younger's face. He was easier to read than a book sometimes, honestly. "I just didn't sleep very well last night, that's all. I'm tired."

"You know, if you and Scor fought less, you might actually sleep better," Albus said with a disapproving frown. James shrugged dismissively and got to his feet, running his fingers through his hair. "James, I'm being serious here. Dad is right, you two need to stop getting into so many fights all the time. Scorpius starts it sometimes too, I know, but you're way worse about starting it with him. What do you get out of it?"

A few minutes of closeness that I'd never get otherwise. James just shrugged again, definitely not interested in explaining himself to Albus at the moment. "Maybe we'll grow out of it this year. Just stop worrying so much, Al." Without waiting for any further comment, he turned and headed for the large doors of the Great Hall, catching sight of Scorpius out of the corner of his eye as he passed closer to the Slytherin table. The blonde was watching him closely, and Alistair was frowning to himself, clearly being ignored while his fellow Slytherin's attention was on James. Feeling a bit more satisfied with this, he sauntered out of the Hall and made his way leisurely toward the Tower, in no real hurry to get there with the halls being so deserted at the moment.

(It's not really a time skip, but…)

Scorpius watched James leave the Great Hall with his brows furrowed, one elbow braced on the table as he rested his cheek against his fist. Why couldn't he be more normal, like Albus and Lily? He was aggressive, and rude, and confusing with the way he tended to be so friendly one moment and confrontational the next. Scorpius couldn't help but rile him up from time to time, considering how often James liked to do it to him. But it meant they were getting nowhere fast when it came to somehow fixing the problem.

"So what is his problem, anyway?" Scorpius glanced to the side at Alistair, running the fingers of his free hand over the tabletop idly as he considered the question. It was something he asked himself rather frequently.

"I'm not entirely sure. It just seems to be the way he is." Alistair snorted and leaned closer, smirking in obvious amusement at the seemingly senseless behavior of the older Gryffindor. But he made no negative comment, knowing Scorpius' connection to the Potters, even though he was notorious as being one of the worst Slytherins to discriminate against Gryffindor house. He seemed to be trying to constantly send out all the right signals and do all the right things, and it made things in his stomach tingle excitedly whenever they were together. He knew it was because Alistair was far more experienced than he, but that didn't make the thrill lessen at all, or the attention any less enjoyable. His eyes drifted back to the double doors for a moment. Then again…

James sometimes made those feelings stir up in his belly too.

It always startled him, seemingly coming from nowhere. He would happen to glimpse James outside, whipping past a window on his broom, and the brief instant of wind-blown hair and intense concentration would make his breath catch. Or at night, if he happened to be coming down the hall when James stepped out of the bathroom fresh from a shower, covered with only a thick towel at his waist and dripping wet, he could feel heat bloom in his face. And once, to his slight shame and lingering shock, after a particularly short-lived fight. James had tackled him to the ground, unexpectedly, and rather than managing to straddle him as usual, they had gone down in a tangle that had delivered James' full weight between his legs, leaving them in an incredibly suggestive position. James had looked startled, clearly not expecting it, and had stayed frozen there for a moment before suddenly leaping to his feet and darting off after making a hasty excuse. Scorpius could still remember the rush of heat that had burned his cheeks red and seemed to flood the rest of his body, leaving him breathless even after James was gone.

Shaking his head slightly, Scorpius dismissed those thoughts from his mind quickly. James clearly didn't feel the same way for him, considering the constant fighting he seemed determined to start between them at every opportunity. Besides, their fathers were married now. It was just asking for trouble to get involved like that. Somebody like Alistair, on the other hand…

Well, things were moving very smoothly in that department, and there would be a lot less fuss raised up about two dating Slytherins than about a Slytherin and a Gryffindor that were half-brothers of sorts. Not that he and Alistair were dating, but the dark-skinned boy kept hinting at it, and it seemed almost foolish to keep denying him considering the obvious chemistry between them. It just paled in comparison to the sparks from James, unfortunately, but as those instances were very few and far between…

"Scorpius." He felt the warm touch of fingers on the back of his hand, and he tilted his head toward his companion, realizing Alistair had been speaking all this time and that he hadn't heard a single word of it until that moment. "Are you feeling all right?"

Scorpius smiled faintly. James could say what he liked. There was goodness in Alistair, even if he didn't let everyone see it. "I'm fine. Just a bit lost in my thoughts tonight."

Alistair relaxed slightly, reassured. "Any thoughts about me?" he nudged none too subtly, smiling charmingly. Scorpius felt his smile grow and turn just a little sly. The other Slytherin's blunt approach was something he had to appreciate, none of the usual dancing about and causing confusion. Just honest emotion. Or at least an honest physical reaction. He could respect it, even if he was looking for a bit more than a meaningless shag.

"Perhaps," he conceded, lifting his goblet for a drink, meeting the other boy's dark gaze over the rim. The flare of heat in those eyes started up that pleasant stir in his stomach that he was coming to associate with Alistair. He was starting to look forward to feeling even more of it. "Once I've finished thinking, you'll be one of the first to know."

Alistair lifted a brow. Scorpius supposed idly that it could almost be considered a Slytherin trait, as it was something the Potters liked to tease their Malfoy counterparts about quite frequently. "Am I allowed to know my competition?" he asked, perching his chin on his hand, feigning rapt attention to his anticipated answer.

Scorpius glanced away, suddenly uneasy, though he didn't let it show on his face. "I don't see any reason for you to." It wasn't competition so much as it was a foolish flight of fancy. But he wouldn't be admitting any such thing to a fellow Slytherin. No doubt it would be immediately used in the quest to claim him, and he much preferred their current chase to the use of his secret as leverage against him. James never need know that he was, in a sense, playing the other role in this little farce. Alistair would perform just as well with a faceless entity pitted against him as with a named competitor. At least, that's what he was counting on.

With a sigh, Scorpius pushed himself away from the table and got to his feet. "I think I'll retire early tonight. But I'll be seeing you again soon enough." It would be nearly impossible to avoid him, considering they were in the same House. If he was still awake when the feast finally ended, he would see him again tonight, even. Alistair bid him goodnight, and Scorpius made his exit quickly, his thoughts still rather jumbled as he flicked rapidly from one thing to another, from Alistair to James and the individual emotions either boy caused within him, and then back again, caught in an endless cycle of contemplation.

At the very least, it was promising to be an interesting year.

He paused by the courtyard, looking up into the darkness of the night thoughtfully, and settled onto a stone bench. There was no real hurry to get to the dungeons, after all. The feast would be rather crowded for at least another hour yet before many of the students finally felt the need to turn in for the first night of the year, and then the prefects would be leading the first-years to their respective rooms, so even then there would be some semblance of order, unlike what usually went on; the hurried flood of students ramming themselves and each other into walls and corners as they dashed toward their beds before curfew, lest they be forced to face off with Filch, or worse.

"What are you doing out here?"

Scorpius froze briefly, startled by the sudden intrusion of his thoughts. He recognized the voice immediately, though. It would be impossible to ever mistake it for anyone else. James. Keeping his expression clear, he turned where he sat to fix the other boy with a disdainful look from where his voice had come from, even if he couldn't quite see him clearly in the moonlight; his brow quirked. "As this is a neutral area of the school not belonging solely to Gryffindors, I think it's safe to say that I can be out here if I want."

The older boy took a step out into the moonlight from where he'd been leaning against one of the stone columns, obviously having been deep in thought to have only just registered Scorpius' presence there. "I mean, why are you out here? Shouldn't you be back in the Great Hall letting that filthy git Zabini put his slimy hands all over you?"

Scorpius bristled instinctively. He simply couldn't help it. James was insulting one of his friends, and a potential love interest, with his usual rude, careless nature. Just because they wore the Slytherin colors didn't make them any less a person, no matter how superior the Gryffindors liked to think themselves to be sometimes.

"Alistair has only been putting his hands where I want them," he snapped. "And they're not slimy at all, for your information. Perhaps if you worried a little more about your own personal life and a little less about mine, maybe somebody would bother to put their hands on you, as well." He had no idea where the hateful jab came from, but he hoped somewhere deep inside him that it struck its mark. Words seemed to be the only chance he had ever had against James Sirius Potter. His body certainly seemed prepared to betray him at the drop of a hat.

James' eyes were extremely dark in the night, flashing with emotions that Scorpius found difficult to read. "And just what would you know about it?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. An involuntary shiver went up Scorpius' spine at the sound. "Just what would you know about who has or who hasn't been putting their hands on me? You had better worry more for yourself, Scorpius. Alistair isn't looking for more than a quick shag with you, and once he's had it, he's going to toss you aside like so much rubbish."

Scorpius clenched his fists. "Alistair happens to like me, James, and we've already spoken of his past conquests very thoroughly. I know exactly what he's done, and with whom, and if I decide to trust him that's entirely my business. Not yours."

It was almost eerie how they both could move so quickly. James was in front of him in a heartbeat, and Scorpius was across the courtyard from him once more in another. It was a silent dance that hinted at brutality should one of them misstep even once. This time, it was Scorpius that failed to keep up. He would blame it later on the confusing feelings that James could stir in him. But he found himself with his back slammed into unforgiving stone, James' body crowding his, keeping him in place. An arm on either side of him formed an inescapable box that he was trapped within, forced to look up into the taller brunette's face.

"And what will you do when he has you like this?" James' voice was harsh, his breathing short and almost ragged. How curious. The observation was almost detached. Perhaps it had something to do with the shock of the position he had suddenly found himself in, with James of all people. "How will you defend yourself when he asks for more than you're willing to give? Make no mistake, he's going to ask." One hand left the wall and grabbed his chin, forcing his gaze even higher. Their eyes locked and held. Scorpius felt the fight go out of him, his bones quivering like jelly within his flesh. Salazar, those eyes were so dark and fierce…

"I can take care of myself." The words were meant to be confident, but they came out rather half-heartedly in Scorpius' ears. James knew it, too, because his lips curved into a dark look that had his heart suddenly pounding. But it wasn't in fear, which seemed to be what James was trying to stir in him. No, it was something else entirely.

"You don't look like it. You can't even fight me off, and I'm merely giving a demonstration." His head lowered a little more, and their noses brushed ever so slightly. They remained just like that for a long moment, the tension in the air nearly crackling in its intensity. Scorpius found himself tilting his head up another inch, suddenly wishing their lips would touch, even briefly. But it wasn't to be. With a sudden rough shove, James pushed away from him, as if their close proximity was suddenly painful to him. He took a few large steps back, making sure there was plenty of distance between them.

They stared at each other across the courtyard, neither of them able to find the words necessary to crack the unbearable tension. James took another step back, seemingly reluctant to break their stare, and then whipped around and disappeared into the torch-lit hall, heading toward Gryffindor Tower at a fast clip.

Scorpius slid down the stone column until he hit the ground, pressing shaking fingers to his lips. Forget chemistry. This thing that James could do to him went far beyond the laws of science.

(Time skip)

"Harry!"

Harry grinned and was nearly knocked off his feet by Gilbert's exuberant hug. Roderich stood a few steps behind him, hands folded behind his back, watching with faint amusement shining in his oddly-colored eyes at his fiancé's antics. His irises were purple in the light, though they could be mistaken for blue when it was darker out. His brown hair was pulled back with a ribbon to form a tiny ponytail at the base of his neck, and his clothes were immaculate. He was similar to Draco in a lot of ways, but the differences were what made all the difference.

"Hey there, Gil. Roderich. You've come on one of the rare nights where Draco's the one who's late home from work. He should be here soon, though." He took a step back once Gilbert let him go, holding the door open for them. "Come in."

Gilbert's seemingly endless energy made moving their bags into a guest room relatively painless, chattering the entire time about Austria and Roderich's career and his new position on Roderich's crew, ensuring that he would always be able to be there for all of his future husband's concerts. Roderich was fairly silent the entire time aside from correcting his lover on a detail here or there that had been relayed incorrectly. He was the perfect calm to balance Gilbert's energy. Harry couldn't be happier for the pair of them.

The three of them were settled in the sitting room talking when the Floo flared, alerting them to Draco's arrival home. "Harry?" he called searchingly.

Harry grinned. "In here, Draco."

"Ugh, what a night. You'd think they'd never functioned without me before I arrived. 'Mr. Malfoy, would you mind look at this? Mr. Malfoy, this needs your attention if you're not too busy. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy.'" The obnoxious, mocking whine grew louder as he approached, oblivious to their guests' arrival. "Mr. Malfoy was about to hex a few interns if they didn't get out of my bloody way. I'd clearly locked my office and I wasn't about to return to it for their silly little questions. If some dozy prat has boils on his –"

He broke off as he entered the room and realized that Harry was not alone, and his brows furrowed, and then his expression cleared. "Gilbert," he said warmly, ignoring his husband's chuckles at his obvious surprise. "Roderich. I had no idea you'd gotten here already."

Gilbert was already out of his chair, crossing the room in several long strides to throw himself at Draco and cling tightly. "Draco!" he said fondly, burying his face in his shoulder. "I missed you." Draco patted his back, his smile wide and genuine.

Harry glanced away. As much as he liked Gilbert, he always felt a little uneasy when they were so touchy-feely. He glanced at Roderich, and saw a similar unease flash briefly across his face. The two drew apart, and Gilbert returned to his seat beside his fiancé while Draco settled himself casually in Harry's lap. It was a ridiculous fear, of course. Both men were totally devoted to their current partners. But considering what had once been between them… At the same time, Harry considered it to be completely legitimate.

"How long are you staying for? The children will be disappointed if they don't get to see you," said Draco, leaning back so that his head rested on Harry's shoulder, nuzzling the underside of his jaw ever so briefly in comfort. He knew how Harry tended to react to his and Gilbert's greetings.

Gilbert grinned and squeezed Roderich's hand in his. "Well, that's the exciting thing. I nearly couldn't wait to tell you, but Roddy thought it would make a wonderful surprise." Roderich's eyebrow twitched minutely at the nickname. No one paid it any mind.

"Actually, I suggested that we tell them, but…"

Gilbert cut him off thoughtlessly, but it was so innocently done, there could be no cause for anger at the otherwise rude behavior. "Roddy's next tour is going to be through England! So we're going to be here for weeks!" He immediately deflated. "If… that's okay with you guys. We won't be here all the time, because of the tour, but after shows and such we'll need a place to stay, and we were sort of hoping that…"

Draco cast a sidelong look at Harry. "You know we don't mind you being here, Gil. Or you, Roderich. We'd be thrilled to house you two here for the duration of the tour, whenever you need." He smiled as Gilbert's grin returned full-force, his mouth already opening to begin the long stream of gratitude that was surely on its way. "No thanks are necessary. You're practically family, you know." Harry muttered something that had Draco digging his elbow briefly into his ribs.

"Let's head into the kitchen. I'm starving, and I could use something for dinner. Brewing cures for the hundreds of idiots that come through St. Mungo's due to potions-related incidents is appetite-stirring work."

(Hah, this took longer than I anticipated. But I believe I made the right choice in pairings. Scorpius is right, there's more than basic chemistry brewing between these two, lovely readers. But Alistair is still in the running, so as with You and Me, I hope you'll endure the OCxMC pairings as they crop up. It's all in the name of plot, as we've seen before. ^^I hope everyone enjoys the update, it's taken a lot of late nights to pull my jumbled muse together and get this out. But I think it was worth it. I'm quite pleased with the result. Let's hope future chapters come together with a bit more ease.)