Music for writing :Once Upon a Dream - Lana Del Rey

Scorpius leaned his back against a tree, sitting in the snow.

He had wandered away and crossed the garden's fence, thinking he could isolate himself entirely from the commotion, but the voices from the house still reached him. The Potter-Weasleys were undeniably loud.

He scratched the snow, letting it melt under his nails. His fingers quickly turned red, then blue. He didn't feel the cold; his chest was painfully tight. He wanted to leave, feeling like he didn't belong in that house anymore. He didn't feel at home there. He wished he could return to his own home, but the protective charms that guarded the manor wouldn't let anyone enter without an invitation. His father wasn't expecting him yet, anyway. He was probably at the hospital. Calling his grandparents would have raised too many questions, and increasing the tension between the two families was not a good idea.

He tapped his foot in frustration, angry at the idea of being stuck here.

Apathetic? That's how Teddy Lupin had described him. He clenched his teeth. He wasn't apathetic! Damn it, he was alive, he felt things! He wasn't a body without emotion or passion. He felt more than enough—he was tormented by his fears and emotions. Just because he didn't express them in an explosive way didn't mean he was dead inside. He wasn't lifeless, an empty corpse... just a body...

Damn Lupin!

He lowered his head, resting his forehead on his knees, and his whole body tensed up. Once again, he found himself two years ago, lying on his stomach on a white mattress, paralyzed because his body had been petrified, speechless because his vocal cords had been removed; his back and neck wet from the saliva and sweat of a man he hated and who terrified him; powerful legs pinned his, and a heavy body crushed him, twisting and convulsing against him.

He clenched his fists, pulling himself out of the nightmare, trembling.

"To hell with him, to hell with all of them!"

"Well, can I ask what's got you in this state?"

Scorpius jumped and looked up. Evan stood above him, one hand resting on the tree. He gave him a wink.

"Hey, Little Thing."

Scorpius looked away and didn't respond.

"You're going to catch a cold. You didn't even bring a coat."

Scorpius glanced down at his bare arms. No coat, indeed! He hadn't even thought about it—he must have been angrier than he realized... or maybe more drunk.

He heard the clink of glass and saw Evan pull two bottles of beer from his coat pockets. He opened one and offered it to Scorpius. The boy took it wordlessly, without any thanks.

Evan took that as an invitation and sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. The contact didn't bother him; he was too deprived of warmth to push someone away. He thought it was "practical," though he suspected Evan had a different idea of this closeness.

They sat in silence for a moment as a light but cold wind slapped their faces, then a hand slid onto his thigh, hesitant at first, then firm as it caressed the inside of his leg and moved toward his groin. He felt Evan leaning toward him, turning his body. His warm, humid breath was on his throat, and Scorpius shivered as lips brushed the skin beneath his ear, then moved down his neck. The hand that gripped his waist was burning hot and trembling slightly.

He ignored it and kept drinking, surprised to find that he appreciated the warmth of those hands. But when Evan ran his tongue over his throat, Scorpius started and placed his hands on Evan's shoulders to push him away. He managed to break free from his body.

Evan's eyes were darkened, his brown eyes almost black.

"What?" he asked with a slight smile. "Albus isn't a problem anymore, right?"

Scorpius's heart ached. He pulled his hands back, letting Evan kiss him again. His lips found their place on his throat, and Scorpius moaned as he bit him.

Evan was a bit rough, and his hands were trembling too much, but Scorpius really liked how warm they were.

He didn't resist anymore, and he didn't push him away. Evan positioned himself against him, spreading his legs with his knees. He pressed him against the tree and caught his lips. His mouth was warm as his tongue slipped inside. He was pulling on his hips so hard it hurt, and Scorpius reflexively dug his nails into the tree bark, holding on to keep himself upright. The lips moved to his cheeks and neck. The bark dug into his skin through his T-shirt. He felt a chill and tingling on his shoulders.

"I think I'm bleeding."

He whispered so softly that his voice almost vanished at his lips.

Evan's hands were on him, tugging. Scorpius ended up lying on top of him. Dursley pressed against him, his erection rubbing against his stomach, his breath on his neck as his lips wandered over his throat.

"I'm cold."

He looked up at the sky, found a clear spot where he could see the stars. He felt like he was falling. Evan's hands were on him, but he barely felt them...

"I don't feel anything anymore. I'm cold..."

He felt numb... paralyzed!

"Stop!"

In a sudden jolt, he pushed Evan away so hard that he fell backward. Scorpius kept his arms outstretched in front of him, rigid.

"No!" he said firmly, his eyes fixed on the boy.

Evan looked surprised, then sat up in the snow.

"Okay," he said, shrugging.

Scorpius raised his eyebrows, confused, his arms still out in front of him.

"Okay?"

Evan smiled.

"Yeah, I want it badly, but if you don't...," he explained with a casualness as if he had been denied a candy.

Scorpius swallowed hard and slowly lowered his arms, still wary. Evan didn't move and leaned back against the tree.

"I'm cold," Scorpius said, pulling his legs up to his chest.

"You want to go back?"

Scorpius shook his head. He didn't want to go back inside, not yet. Evan took off his scarf and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Is that enough?"

Scorpius didn't answer, still trembling, and Evan gave him his coat. This time, Malfoy almost refused.

"I've got a sweater that keeps me plenty warm," Evan said, placing his coat on Scorpius's lap. "There's hardly any wind."

He sat back down beside him, their sides touching, but Dursley didn't try anything more.

"Teddy said I was apathetic."

Scorpius looked startled for a moment, as if he had spoken without meaning to. He swallowed and his voice became a whisper.

"It pissed me off."

"Pathetic?"

"No, apathetic."

Evan raised his eyebrows, and Scorpius elaborated.

"In short, I don't feel anything. I don't want anything. I'm... empty."

"Uh, yeah, that's a harsh insult," Evan replied, not entirely convinced.

Scorpius pulled the coat tighter around himself and bit his lower lip.

"In my case, it's kind of true, and that's what hurt. In a way, at least."

Evan tugged at the sleeves of his sweater to cover his hands, crossing his arms and snuggling closer to the tree trunk.

"I'm waiting for more. There's more, right?"

"Hmm, I'm not much of a talker."

"I've got time."

"Why would I talk to you?"

"Because you don't care what I think. And because I'm not from your world."

Those words felt right to Scorpius, and he felt a weight lift off his shoulders, one he hadn't even realized he was carrying. But he still didn't know what to say.

"Where do I start...?" he murmured, his eyes lost on the frozen trees.

"You're not very comfortable here, are you?"

Scorpius didn't answer, so Evan continued:

"You're a bit like Amanda and me; you don't feel like you belong. People look at you with curiosity."

"If my grandfather heard you... comparing us... he wouldn't like that."

"Because I can't make things fly with a stick?"

Scorpius gave a sad smile and nodded softly, which made Evan laugh.

"So, what would happen if he knew I'd touched you?"

Malfoy felt like he had been punched in the gut and refused to look at him. He hadn't thought about that—a Muggle?...

Evan nudged him with his elbow.

"Don't make yourself sick over it."

"It's not—"

"It's fine, don't worry."

Evan hesitated, then licked his lips before chuckling softly:

"My grandparents think of you all as monsters anyway."

Despite the insult, this revelation almost reassured Scorpius. Intolerance didn't just exist among wizards.

Now it was his turn to observe the boy, waiting for more of his story.

"I think I have an idea of who your parents are," Evan continued. "What your family did. You know my dad is Harry's cousin, right?"

Scorpius nodded, though he hadn't really thought about it.

"My grandparents took him in after his parents died.'Took him in'is a strong word... they were forced to house him, but that's another story. My dad had to leave his childhood home when that guy—Voldemort, right?"

Scorpius grimaced at the name, and Evan continued:

"Apparently, he and his men were hunting Harry and were willing to torture and kill anyone who might help or hide him."

Scorpius didn't respond. He never did during these kinds of conversations.

"A past like that can't be easy to carry, especially here. But if you've been welcomed into this house, doesn't that mean they consider it all in the past?"

Scorpius shook his head, pulling the coat tighter around his shoulders and grimacing.

"You wear too much cologne; your collar reeks."

Evan grabbed one of the beer bottles he'd left in the snow.

"Yeah, maybe."

Scorpius licked his lips, a bad idea, as the cold made them feel like they were freezing instantly. But the words still came easily, rolling off his tongue.

"We didn't pay. We got lucky. We didn't pay. Not really."

He nervously rubbed his hands on his pants.

"I know it, my family knows it. We slipped through the cracks. No justice."

His speech was disjointed, but he felt the need to keep going.

"My grandfather escaped prison after the first war, and then after the second. He deserved to go."

Scorpius paused, staring into the frozen landscape. It was the first time he'd admitted that out loud. His voice was a whisper:

"I love him. But I know what he did, and... he deserved to go. They didn't pay. We're still one of the richest families in this country, and we don't really want for anything, not the essentials. We got lucky, again and again."

He exhaled, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"And people know it. They're bitter and angry. They hate us. And me... for some, I'm just another insult."

He turned to Evan, staring him down.

"You think I'm attractive? Appealing?"

His tone was contemptuous.

"You're not the only one. I have that effect. I figured it out pretty early on. It's a perverse cycle: they hate me, but I turn them on. It disgusts them, and it disgusts me. And they want me to pay for it, like I owe a double debt—for my name and for my looks."

He tugged at the scarf to get rid of it.

"Just talking about it makes me nauseous. I don't care about that war... I don't have to pay for it!"

"You realize that makes no sense, right? It's pretty arrogant to think that way. You're not that important."

He didn't let Scorpius respond.

"For what it's worth, I don't find you... what did you say? Apathetic? When I first saw you, I thought you were cold and condescending."

"That's comforting..." Scorpius muttered.

Evan didn't seem to hear him and went on:

"I get why now. But I think you're being a bit dramatic. Sure, you might attract some crazies from time to time, but you can't generalize. Among those people, some are like me. I want you for you. For your incredibly long, slim legs, your small round butt, and that beautiful face."

Scorpius stiffened and shook his head.

"You're a smooth talker, but what you're saying doesn't reassure me at all."

"Sorry, but that's the first impression you give. Then you open your mouth, and we get a glimpse of your nasty attitude. That's when it gets hard to keep it up."

"You're disgusting."

"Why? Because you turn me on? I'm almost 18; I think about sex all day. The fact that you don't is what's strange."

"I'm getting there, slowly. But it's complicated..."

"Then explain it to me."

Once again, Scorpius felt the words rising to his tongue, ready to spill out. But it didn't feel right. Something was off.

"I'm not supposed to explain this to you."

A voice rose behind them.

"No, you're not."

Scorpius jumped, startled, as Albus stepped around the tree. He hadn't worn a coat either, and it didn't seem to bother him. He walked up, grabbed the jacket from Scorpius' lap, and tossed it at Evan. He didn't wait for Evan to catch it before saying,

"We're going inside."

He grabbed Scorpius by the arm and pulled him up. Malfoy felt the urge to protest, to tell him to go to hell, but the grip on his arm, despite its firmness, was oddly comforting. Albus dragged him toward the house with determined strides, not looking back, simply pulling him along.

"Albus!" Malfoy called, but the boy ignored him, still tugging him along.

"Albus!" He planted his feet firmly in the snow, forcing Potter to stop and turn around. "Where are you going like that?"

Albus gestured toward the house, looking at Scorpius like he was explaining something obvious to a child.

"Inside."

"Why?"

"Because it's cold out here."

"Stop it!"

Albus sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes.

"You said you wouldn't come after me again," Scorpius said bitterly.

Potter let out a short, rough laugh.

"Yeah..." He ran a hand through his hair."I think I'll always come after you."

That statement didn't sit well with him. He shoved his hands into his pockets, exhaling deeply. He looked exhausted.

"Come on, let's go inside."

As they crossed the threshold and the warmth hit their bodies, they realized just how much they had suffered from the cold. Scorpius thought for a moment that Albus was leading them to the living room, and he already dreaded being in the middle of the Christmas commotion. But Potter turned and took him up the stairs instead.

Once they reached the bedroom, Albus closed the door behind them.

"And now what?" Scorpius asked, admiring the mess he already knew so well, anything to avoid looking at Albus.

"Now what?"

He turned to face Potter.

"You said you didn't want anything more to do with me, and yet here I am, in your room."

"Would you have preferred to stay outside, freezing your ass off in the snow?"

"I was doing just fine, actually. Evan had…"

"I saw."

Scorpius swallowed.

"You saw what?"

"I saw everything."

Scorpius wondered what Albus meant. Had he seen him wearing Evan's jacket and scarf? Or had he been there longer than that?

"You pushed him away," Scorpius pointed out coldly, though he cursed himself for feeling the need to justify anything.

"Calm down, I'm not accusing you of anything."

"You have no right to anymore."

Albus scrutinized him, expressionless. He tilted his head slightly, observing Scorpius like he was trying to solve some internal puzzle.

"Are you still mad at me?" he finally asked. "For the vial?"

"Yes."

Albus nodded slowly, staring at the floor.

"And I'm mad at you foreverything else."

Scorpius's chest tightened, and he clenched his jaw.

"Great. So, now what? What do we do?" he asked, pretending to be indifferent.

Albus sat in his desk chair, deep in thought, his gaze distant.

"Now what? What do we do?" he repeated slowly, almost to himself.

He raised his eyes gently toward Malfoy.

"You know... before you, I was happy. I realize that now. It wasn't some grand happiness, but I think I was content."

The revelation froze Scorpius in place. He stood motionless in the center of the room, like he was in the middle of an exam. He didn't dare move a muscle, and his whole body trembled.

Albus continued:

"I should never have spoken to you. I should never have tried to get to know you. I wish I could forget everything about you."

He stood up, keeping his eyes on Scorpius.

"But I know I can't. I can't get rid of you. You crawl under my skin. Like an insect, I can feel you scratching beneath, eating me away. And nothing changes that. No matter what you do, I still want you. I know what happened with James, and I still want you. I know Evan's spit is on your neck, but I still want you."

Malfoy instinctively touched his neck, where Dursley's mouth had been, feeling ashamed. Albus stopped in front of him, just inches from his skin.

His voice was a whisper:

"Despite everything I know, I still want you. I'm not going to let you go."

"It's not just up to you. What makes you think I want to stay?"

"Go ahead and try to leave. But how long until you come back to me?"

Scorpius lifted his chin, his expression haughty.

"Is that a challenge?"

Albus shook his head.

"Pride alone would push you to try. Your arrogance always made you stupid. That's why you keep denying it."

Scorpius opened his mouth to respond, but Albus cut him off:

"You'll come back."

Scorpius took a step back, but Albus grabbed his arms, holding him in place, stepping closer. He gently pressed his forehead against Scorpius's. His thumbs traced circles on Scorpius's arms. He inhaled his scent deeply.

"Because I know you love me," Albus whispered against his skin. "And more than that, I know you've never loved anyone but me."

"And I'm the arrogant one?" Malfoy sighed.

"And stupid!" Albus insisted, lifting his head. He cupped Scorpius's face in his hands, threading his fingers through his hair.

"You're stupid for wasting our time the way you do."

His thumbs stroked Scorpius's cheeks.

"You're trembling."

"I'm cold," Scorpius lied, trying to pull away from the embrace.

"You're lying."

Albus grabbed him by the hips, pulling him closer. His hands were firm, his fingers digging into Scorpius's skin. Scorpius felt Albus's breath on his face and neck. His skin tingled, and he shivered. His heart pounded in his temples, and he cursed himself for wanting more—always wanting more.

"You're going to forgive me," Albus murmured, his hands holding and caressing Scorpius.

"It'll take time, but you'll forgive me. And I'll forgive you too."

He kissed Scorpius's cheek, then moved down to his jaw and neck.

"You'll mess up, and I'll mess up. And we'll hurt each other, over and over again."

Albus's fingers trailed down Scorpius's shirt, slowly undoing each button.

"But you're mine."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to make love to you."

Scorpius stiffened but didn't pull away. Heat surged in his lower body, and his legs felt weak. With his shirt undone, Albus's fingers drifted over his stomach, lingering at his belt buckle. Potter's eyes met his—dark, feverish.

"We'll go slow, we'll take our time. We'll do it how you want. But I want to be inside you, Scorpius. I want you on that bed, right now."

End of Chapter 34

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