The dormitory was filled with sighs that echoed off the walls. A musky scent permeated the room, the heat of their bodies stifling.

Scorpius was still straddling James. He moaned, his face buried in the boy's neck. His hand gripped James's shoulder, his nails digging into his skin. His other hand held James's erection, while James did the same for him. The smell intoxicated him, enveloping him until he shivered. He almost felt like he was holding Albus, but he wasn't under any illusions; it was James's breath hissing in his ear.

He slid his lips along James's throat and cheek before resting his forehead against his, raising his hips slightly to look at their hands wrapped around each other's hardened members. Potter's pupils were dilated, his eyes dark and feverish as he watched Scorpius's pale, slender fingers sliding up and down his swollen length. His hand tightened on Scorpius's hip, leaving the imprint of his fingers as he set a sensual rhythm against his own body.

"Grip harder," James groaned, and when Scorpius complied, a dry moan escaped James's lips, his body tensing. His open shirt revealed a visibly contracting abdomen, and suddenly he grabbed Scorpius's hand to stop him, though he continued stroking Scorpius, even if he couldn't keep the pace. He seemed to be fighting to calm himself, jaw clenched, hair sticking to his forehead. Scorpius smiled.

"Were you about to come, James?" Scorpius teased, though his trembling voice was less mocking than he'd intended; he himself wasn't far from spilling over, overwhelmed by the touches and James's firm grip on him.

Potter exhaled loudly, lifting his darkened eyes to meet Scorpius's gaze.

"Not before you," he whispered in a deep, hoarse voice, and sped up, pumping Scorpius harder, his hand tightening into a searing, powerful grip.

Scorpius laughed breathlessly, arching his back, half-blinded by pleasure, trembling all over. His thumb grazed James's shaft, eliciting a moan as James threw his head back onto the pillow, panting.

"We'll see about that," Scorpius murmured.

It was just like last time. He liked it. He loved this raw, masculine pleasure. It was wild, almost animalistic. No consequences. No possession, like with a woman, and none of the humiliation of those other times…

For once, it was his choice, and because of that, he was James's equal. Their pleasure was identical, selfish. An act of instinct, where the heart had no place, where the vibrations tearing through his body would disappear after climax, leaving no trace, no pain.

And though part of him recoiled from this thought, the sensation of having James beneath him, at his mercy… excited him.

The pleasure grew, swelling, as their moans became more lustful and intense. Scorpius let the sounds slip from his lips without shame, moving his hips in time with the strokes on his cock, trembling with pleasure. He felt the sweat trickle down his neck and bead along his back. His thighs contracted around James, his hand clutched the sheets beside his head, gripping them tightly.

His movements quickened, becoming erratic, brutal, and disordered. He struggled to breathe, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Suddenly, a burning wave crashed over him, contracting every muscle in his body. The room spun, and the pleasure blinded him as he cried through gritted teeth, spilling himself across James's stomach.

His body convulsed, once, twice, three times, then the calm took over, accompanied by a delicious, exhilarating fatigue. He couldn't tell if it was his cry of pleasure or James's that echoed off the stone walls. For a moment, he forgot everything. Everything. And it was what he had longed for, for so long.

Too soon, the colors returned, and the sound of his own deep, ragged breathing reached his ears, strange and distant. Then the smells, the sounds of the night outside the tower. His heart pounded furiously in his chest as a paralyzing languor crept over his body.

He felt James grab his wrist, pushing his hand away. He hadn't even realized that the boy had come at the same time, and the pressure on his cock must have been painful now.
He was still straddling James, but he didn't have the strength to move. His head hung forward, his hair falling over his eyes, his back slightly hunched, arms hanging limp at his sides. James didn't try to push him away. Scorpius listened to their breathing, which gradually slowed as the excitement and pleasure drained from their bodies.

Malfoy was vaguely aware of the hands caressing his knees, sliding up to his hips, then down again, resting on his thighs. He felt James shift beneath him, which irritated him. He didn't want to move just yet.

James lifted his head, grimacing at the strings of semen scattered across his abdomen.

"Give me my wand," he said, punctuating his request with a light tap on Scorpius's thigh, as if to wake him from his daze.

Inhaling sharply to contain his irritation at being disturbed, Scorpius straightened and opened his eyes, also noticing the sticky fluids covering Potter. Instead of reaching for the nightstand, he swiftly closed James's shirt over the milky streaks winding across his stomach and chest.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Potter exclaimed with a jolt that nearly knocked them both off the mattress, disgusted by the damp texture sticking to his skin and shirt.

"Doesn't it remind you of something?" Scorpius asked, a sneering smile playing on his lips.

James's face darkened with anger. He had no trouble recalling their first sexual encounter on the tiled floor of the fourth-floor bathroom and how it had ended. His fists clenched.

"Get off!"

And when Scorpius, teasing, took his time moving off him, James shoved him to the side. Furious, he stood up, yanked off his shirt, and wiped the sticky remnants from his torso with a look of disgust before crumpling the fabric and cleaning his hands. He tossed the balled-up shirt across the room with a curse.

Scorpius almost wanted to laugh, but he held back. He didn't feel like explaining a black eye or another split lip. Though he wasn't sure it would come to that.

Malfoy had to admit that James had more patience than he had expected. He sprawled out on the bed, lounging comfortably on the covers as he watched the boy.

James stared at the fabric on the floor, shirtless. His chest rose and fell rapidly.

"Apparently, you don't like your own methods," Scorpius murmured, amused by James's anger as he calmly fastened his trousers. "It's humiliating, isn't it?"

James rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath, hands on his hips, before looking back at the boy sprawled on his bed. He studied him for a moment, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek, the anger slowly fading. He shook his head and opened the trunk at the foot of his bed. He pulled out a black t-shirt and slipped it on, adjusting it over his jeans. He walked over to the bed, fastening his belt buckle.

"Move over," he told Malfoy, pointing to the edge of the bed.

Frowning, Scorpius hesitated, surprised. He had thought James would leave or tell him to go. Seeing his reluctance, James grabbed him by the elbow, lifted him slightly, and nudged him toward the side of the bed.

Malfoy's surprise deepened when James lay down beside him, legs crossed, adjusting the pillow behind him. He picked up the book he had been reading earlier and found the page he had left.

A strange silence settled over the room, and surprisingly, after a long, inquisitive look that James ignored for several minutes, Scorpius finally began to relax. He rested his head on his arm and the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The bed was narrow, and they couldn't avoid touching, but Malfoy was more comfortable than he would have expected.

He wondered if it was because neither he nor James expected anything from the other. It was clear they didn't like each other; that much was simple. Yet, they had never shared a moment of calm and silence like this before. They were there without really being present, both lost in their own worlds. With nothing to share, the silence suited them.

Scorpius thought several times that he should leave, but what for? He had nowhere to go. He didn't know where Dorian was. He had no one.

He shook his head at the thought, as if the motion could dispel the dark ideas from his mind, and he turned toward the book James was holding. He started at the sight of the images—open bodies, blood, and flesh being cut.

"That's disgusting!" he exclaimed, pointing at the Muggle medical book.

Calmly, James didn't take his eyes off the page.

"It's an open chest."

"But it's horrible!"

James sighed, rolling his eyes and muttering "Pureblood" with disdain.

"Muggles don't use magic," he said in a professor-like tone that Scorpius didn't particularly appreciate. "How else do you think they heal the inside of the body? They have to use machines or cut things open to see."

"Barbarians…" Scorpius whispered.

James shook his head, but he couldn't suppress a smirk. He opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, then said,

"Last summer, I met a surgeon, and—"

"A what?"

"A surgeon," James repeated, impatient, as if explaining to a slow-witted child. "They're like Healers, but they cut people open to fix them."

He ignored Scorpius's gag reflex and continued, resting the book on his stomach. His voice vibrated slightly as he spoke:

"He told me once that a patient's heart stopped beating while he was operating, and he restarted it by holding the heart in his hands and massaging it until it started beating again." He gently cupped his hands as if holding an incredibly fragile ball. "Can you imagine, holding a heart in your hands?"

Scorpius raised a skeptical eyebrow at James's enthusiasm but didn't respond. James averted his eyes and cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable, as if he couldn't allow himself to show any emotion in front of Scorpius.

"Well, whatever. You don't care, right?"

"A little."

That wasn't true. While he didn't understand the appeal of cutting open a body to heal it, he envied the passion in James's voice as he talked about it. But he refused to admit it.

Potter ran a hand through his hair, the anger flaring in his eyes again.

"Yeah, I figured," he muttered, placing the book on the nightstand. "I don't know why I bother trying to explain anything to you."

He sat up and leaned over Scorpius, who held his breath, raising his arms slightly in case he needed to defend against a punch. But James grabbed him by the knees and pulled him further down the bed. He spread his legs and laid between them—a position and warmth that brought back memories Scorpius would have rather forgotten.

"Don't even think about it, James!" Scorpius exclaimed.

"I get it!" Potter snapped, pushing away the hands that gripped his shoulders and tried to push him off.

He lay down gently on top of him, so tenderly that Scorpius froze, breathless. James's thumbs pressed into his sides. Scorpius felt him inhale his scent, his breath tickling his neck, his lips grazing his throat.

He endured it, but the weight of James's chest on his own was too heavy and suffocating. On the verge of pushing him away, Scorpius hesitated—but James suddenly shifted.

He moved back to his side of the bed, lying on his side, his brown eyes roaming over Scorpius's face.

"What is it?" Scorpius sighed, exasperated by James's behavior, the silence, and the inquisitive stare.

"My father told me to leave you alone."

Malfoy abruptly propped himself up on his elbows, staring at James in fear. His words seeped into Scorpius like a cold poison.

"How does he know?" he whispered.

James lay back on his back, resting his head on his arm.

"He doesn't know anything, he doesn't want to know. But he suspects."

"How does he know?" Scorpius repeated.

"Because of you!" James exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Because of the way you looked at him when he saw us in the locker room."

Scorpius thought back, trying to remember when he could have given himself away. He recalled making eye contact with Harry Potter in the locker room after the match.

They say Aurors have a sharp instinct...

"I didn't look at him," Malfoy defended. "I was just making sure Albus wasn't watching us."

He exhaled loudly and dropped his head back onto the pillow with frustration. Damn Auror!

Potter ran a finger along his arm.

"You're not talking to him anymore, you don't want to see him, you quit his team. But you don't want him to know about us."

James leaned in, pressing his lips to Scorpius's shoulder, letting them glide over his skin thoughtfully.

Suddenly, he jerked away, cursed under his breath, and punched the wall above their heads before lying back down. He tucked one arm beneath his head, resting it on the pillow. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes restless.

"We need to stop," James finally said. "Not because of my father. Because of the match. If Albus hadn't caught you, what would have happened?"

Scorpius couldn't comprehend his question. He didn't know. He had hoped Albus would catch him. If he hadn't… well, he had no idea.

"I didn't think about it," he admitted.

James nodded without looking at him.

"Exactly," he murmured. "You really care about my brother."

"I've told you that."

James turned to face him, his eyes boring into Scorpius's.

"No, I mean really careabout him."

Malfoy held James's gaze, and he understood. He realized that this was a true revelation for Potter. James had never believed it. He had never imagined that Albus could be so important to Scorpius. And now, he realized how sordid, how cruel their arrangement had been, keeping it secret from his younger brother.

"Oh, nowyou realize it?" Scorpius sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. It was just another way of calling him a idiot, and he hoped Potter would take it that way. But James turned away, and Scorpius almost wanted to punch him. The situation was absurd.

Sitting stiffly in the bed, Scorpius felt his anger boil.

"I find it ridiculous that you're saying you want to the one who wanted to stop."

"I don't see the difference."

"Oh yeah? You know it's this arrangement that made me lose Albus?"

James suddenly sat up, grabbing Scorpius by the arm, squeezing hard enough to hurt.

"Go to hell! You lost Albus on your own! Don't put that on me!"

"Sure, play the good guy—you're great at that!" Scorpius shouted, pulling away.

"The good guy? What are you talking about? Our arrangement doesn't interest me anymore, and I'm ending it. How does that make me the good guy?"

Scorpius opened his mouth several times, stunned. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"It's so easy for you, isn't it?" he muttered, pointing at the two of them. "None of this means anything to you."

Yes, it was so easy for James. He had been the one to create this chaotic situation, effortlessly. And now he was walking away from it just as easily—calmly, without guilt. Everything was easy for James Sirius Potter!

For James, none of it had mattered. Meanwhile, Scorpius had wanted to tear his own skin off every time James made love to him.

And now, James was the one ending things? By doing so, he spat on the last shreds of pride Scorpius had left. What was he supposed to do now? Thank him for setting him free? Pretend nothing had happened?

Scorpius felt like vomiting. He felt hot tears of anger welling up in his eyes as he stared at Potter. When he spoke, his voice trembled, but he wasn't ashamed. He didn't care about letting his guard down now—enough was enough.

"You know what's really pissing me off right now?" A tear slid down his cheek. James parted his lips in surprise, seeming to lose his confidence in front of the trembling boy. "It's that I didn't want any of this! I hated every damn moment you asked me to come to you. I don't think you'll ever understand what you put me through, James." His voice cracked.

He took a deep breath and wiped his palms over his eyes, refusing to cry any more in front of him. He let out a dark laugh.

"Honestly, I'm impressed with myself, you know? I almost managed to detach myself from what we were doing, to tell myself that it wasn't really happening. And I even did better. I learned not to be afraid of you anymore, to take from you what I wanted. What did that take me? Two months? You could say I did a hell of a job on myself, don't you think?"

James kept his eyes down and said nothing.

"And now that I'm not scared of you, now that you don't have any hold on me, and surprisingly, I'm finally getting something out of it—you're the one who's stopping…?"

Scorpius shook his head, his jaw clenched. Sliding off the bed, he grabbed his shoes.
"You've really screwed me over until the end, James."

"I love you."

Scorpius froze. For a moment, he doubted he had heard the words correctly. He turned to look at Potter. James was slowly raising his head, a melancholic smile on his lips. He bit down on his lip.

"Since the first time. I think. I don't even know, really," he confessed. "Love at first sight, that kind of crap…"

"Are you kidding me?" Scorpius breathed, frozen by the window. His legs were shaking—he shouldn't have come, he didn't want to hear this.

"I tried to get you out of my head. Tried not to care," James continued. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, tapping his fist against his palm.

"But since I couldn't, I clung to what you said that night, to that nasty look you gave me, to the slap, to your words. You made me so angry."

James grimaced as if the memory disgusted him.

"Then I read all these things about you, rumors, gossip, and I decided to believe them all. It gave you the worst character—this spoiled little brat. I looked at photos, the ones where other men had their hands on you. I tried to make myself sick of you. I figured that if I could prove to myself that you were scum, I'd stop thinking you didn't deserve me, and I could finally get you out of my head for good. But I just got angrier."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, James!" Scorpius interrupted.

He put on his shoes and began tying them, pulling hard on the laces. It was just another one of his twisted games. That's all this was. And he wasn't going to fall for it so easily. When he looked up, James hadn't moved, still sitting on the bed, elbows on his knees, head slightly bowed.

"I don't mean to be insensitive," Scorpius began, "but I don't believe in love at first sight or any of that nonsense. You're selfish and arrogant, and you just couldn't handle someone on this planet daring to say no to you—James Sirius Potter! Sure, I overdid it, there were people watching, and I humiliated you. You could've forgotten what happened, but you chose to wallow in that memory. You even made it into something bigger and uglier than it was. Be honest with yourself—it was your pride that got hurt, not your heart."

"I hate you!"James suddenly exclaimed, with such passion it almost sounded like love.

His lips trembled slightly, and his eyes shone. In that moment, Scorpius realized he had been wrong. He was shaking his head without even thinking, refusing to believe any of this. He refused to think that this boy had loved him from the very first day. Or at least that he had convinced himself of it.

James continued, "My pride got hurt later. Here, at Hogwarts. I thought it was me." He laughed bitterly, shaking his head, mocking himself. "That I had something special, and that you rejected me because of it, even though you'd said yes to other men, many other men… But no. I realized the first time I slept with you. All those rumors were false."

He lifted his gaze to study Scorpius.

"You hadn't been with anyone before me. And that meant one thing: you'd rejected me just like you'd rejected everyone else. I wasn't special. You rejected them all."

James buried his face in his hands, looking exhausted.

"I don't understand why you did that…"

Malfoy didn't move, his eyes staring blankly. He wanted to reject everything James had said. But it was starting to make sense. He had always thought James was playing some twisted game with him. He had never tried to explain James's double-sided behavior—the way James would heal his hands, put his jacket on him when he'd fallen asleep on the floor, the way he defended him while pretending not to care. That's why he had gone to get help the day Goyle had beaten him up, and why he'd told Dorian to be with him at the hospital...

"So why…?" Scorpius's voice caught in his throat. "Why did you…?"

And if it were true, then how could James have done that to him?

James sighed and stood, walking over to stand near Scorpius by the window. He leaned against it, not far from the boy.

Overwhelmed by the silence, Malfoy turned to him, wrapping his arms around his own body, waiting for him to speak.

He felt terribly fragile at that moment, perhaps because James was fragile too. Neither of them was playing now.

James looked out the window, tapping the cold glass with his fingertips.

"When I saw you alone, that first day at Hogwarts, I…"

He paused, a brief flash of anger crossing his lips, and he hit the glass one last time with his fist before turning to face Malfoy.

"My brother got off the train with a bloody nose because he'd taken a hit that was meant for you. Nott had gotten his face bashed in by some Gryffindors, but say what you want—it was him who started running his mouth! You lot had just arrived at school, and you were already like a plague. I watched you with my brother at the table, in class, in the corridors, knowing you shared the same dorm. I saw you playing with him, turning him into one of your trophies, another puppet you'd humiliate, just like the rest of us. It drove me insane! So when I saw you, lost in the hallway, looking for Gryffindor Tower… I knew it was the moment. The moment I had been waiting for all this time."

He lifted his eyes to Scorpius. "I just wanted to hurt you! Hurt you enough that you'd regret what you'd done and stay away from my brother. A beating, like Dorian—that was the plan. But I wanted you, and so I…"

He trailed off, running his hands through his hair. He looked at Scorpius, who refused to meet his gaze, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

"You say you never wanted this, but I didn't either—not like this. I didn't think you were… I didn't realize you were so fragile. And after that, it was too late to turn back. I preferred your fear, even your hatred, over your indifference. At least it was something. You were looking at me! Those moments belonged to us. Yeah, they were imperfect and cruel. But at least I had that, I hadthat!"

"Why are you telling me this now?" Scorpius asked, his body trembling.

"For the same reason I want to end this. I want you to finish me off. I'm tired of you. I'm tired of seeing you with Albus, the way I wanted you to be with me."

"The way I am with Albus? With you? But you destroyed any chance of that ever happening!"

"I know, damn it, I know! I wanted you, but I was angry, and I wanted… to bring you down."

"Well, congratulations, it worked perfectly."

Scorpius remembered the fear on the bathroom tiles when James had shoved him down and pleasured himself over him. He remembered the first time in the Room of Requirement, and the times that followed. He heard James's mocking laughter, his touches, his words. And it all mixed with what he'd refused to see—the way James would push the hair out of his eyes, the kisses he'd place on his forehead, the moments of tenderness…

Scorpius felt hot tears of rage filling his eyes. He would have accepted pure hatred, contempt, being loathed for his name, for his family's past, for everything he represented. But he couldn't bear having been hurt out of love.

"What kind of twisted world do you hurt someone out of love?" Scorpius asked softly, as tears slid down his cheeks. James turned his eyes away, unable to look at him. "I will never forgive what happened. Even if you thought you loved me. You can't just walk away from this. It's not fair!"

James nodded quietly.

"I know. That's why I never asked you to."

"When we first met…"

Scorpius tried to remember those large brown eyes, his auburn hair, and full lips. A handsome boy leaning against a bar—a very handsome young man, whom the alcohol had given him the courage to approach.

"You were special. It's hard to say that now, but you were special. But you showed up at the worst time. The absolute worst time. I wasn't a piece of scum, we just had bad luck. The one who dragged us down was you! Because now, if I had the strength, I'd beat you until you spilled your guts at my feet. Do you really think this kind of feeling is better than my indifference?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

"I don't think we have anything left to say."

"Then go."

With those words, Scorpius began to walk around the bed to leave the dorm, but James grabbed him and blocked his path. Gently, he took Scorpius's face in his hands, sliding his fingers into his hair.

"Please," he whispered, caressing his face with his thumbs. "Please."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Scorpius's. The boy let him, too exhausted to push him away, his arms hanging limply by his sides, refusing to move.

Never had a kiss from James hurt so much.

It tasted of anger, hatred, and foolishness. The taste of waste.

"Damn, I can't believe this."

James recognized Ross Finnigan's voice and immediately let go of Scorpius.

The boy stepped back. Both of them turned toward the entrance of the dorm where Ross, Dorian, and Albus stood in the doorway. At the sight, Malfoy's heart stopped.

Albus was the first to step forward. He walked toward Scorpius without so much as glancing at James. He stopped a few steps away from him, as if he couldn't bear to get any closer. His green eyes were darkened, his face already showing the bitter resentment of betrayal. Scorpius felt his legs weaken.

"Every time," Albus murmured. "Every time, it was him?"

The disappointment in his eyes was unbearable. Scorpius inhaled deeply, glanced at James, then lowered his gaze. He didn't know what to say. Albus's stare was burning him. A large figure moved toward him.

"Fuck, I knew you were scum."

"Get out, Finnigan, this has nothing to do with you!" James shouted, stepping between his friend and Scorpius.

"How long has this been going on?" Albus asked. He only looked at Scorpius, ignoring his brother. His voice was harsh, merciless. "Scorpius!"

"I don't know," Scorpius muttered. "Two months, maybe more."

"More than two months?!"

With his head down, Scorpius recognized Dorian's voice. He looked up. The boy was standing behind Finnigan, his face painted with deep confusion. He too felt betrayed.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why keep it a secret if you've been together for so long?"

"We're not together," James said, and Scorpius was almost grateful that he had the courage Scorpius didn't in this moment. He felt empty. "It's an arrangement that's between us."

"What, you meet up just for sex?" Nott asked, glaring at James with suspicion. "That's not like Scorpius, so cut the crap!"

"An arrangement for what?" Albus asked his brother, looking at him for the first time since entering. "He sleeps with you, and what does he get in return?"

Neither of them answered, neither looking at each other, both hoping the other would keep quiet. There was no pride to be found in such a revelation.

"So that's why you defended them…" Finnigan said softly. "That's why you told us to leave Nott alone at the start of the year? Damn, James…"

"No, no, no…" Scorpius thought as he felt his heart clench painfully.

The stain of shame clung to his skin. In that moment, he wished he could disappear. He felt like he was living a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. He glanced at Albus, who had turned pale, his lips slightly parted but no words came out. His hands trembled.

Pale, Albus sat on the nearest bed, his head in his hands.

It was Nott's voice that snapped Scorpius out of his daze.

"I'm going to beat the crap out of you!" Dorian roared, rushing toward James before Ross Finnigan held him back.

Scorpius moved in front of Nott, placing his hands on his chest, pushing him back.

"Dorian, please!"

"Easy, man, easy," Finnigan said, holding Nott's arms behind him. "I don't like this either, but calm down!"

James hadn't moved or tried to defend himself from Dorian. His gaze was locked on the ground.

"Let me go, Ross! I'm fine, let me go!" Dorian said, freeing himself.

He didn't attempt to attack Potter again. Instead, his attention shifted to the frail figure in front of him—the person he thought was his friend, who had been lying to him since they had passed through the gates of this school.

He grabbed Scorpius's arms, gripping them tightly, forcing the boy to look at him.

"How could you accept this !?" he yelled. "After everything that's happened to you, how could you!?"

Scorpius pulled away, furious that his friend dared to bring up that day in front of him and in front of others! He shoved Dorian, both hands slamming against his chest, his anger as sharp as the disappointment he saw in Nott's eyes.

"Shut up, Dorian!" Scorpius spat. "You don't know what happened, I never told you. So shut up!"

Nott stood silent for a moment, watching his friend, fists clenched at his sides, his gaze burning.

"You're coming with me, now!" he finally said, grabbing Scorpius by the hand.

The boy didn't resist and allowed himself to be pulled out of the dorm. He didn't even dare glance back, fearing he would see James standing still in the middle of the room and Albus collapsed on the bed.

As they left, Finnigan cast one last look at his friend before following them out.

The door closed, leaving Albus and James alone.

End of Chapter 22

Author's Note : The mask fall... I must admit I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It closes an important part of the story and opens new perspectives for Albus and Scorpius.

For more chapters quickly (free!): 🔗 My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: TiffanyBrd