“Mum? Dad?” Hugo shuffled his feet and stared at the ground, trying to think of a way to force out the words he didn’t want to say.

Rose was in her room, most likely drawing or painting one of her new art projects. His parents were in the sitting room, relaxing with some tea and their own quiet activities — chess for his dad and a thick book for his mum. He didn’t want to disturb the peace there, but he had to do it. Had to ask the burning question that lingered in his mind.

His parents looked up and smiled. “Yes?” his mum said, setting her book down in her lap.

Hugo’s bottom lip quivered, which made him swallow hard as he tried to control his emotions. “Am I . . . ” He couldn’t say it. The words refused to come out.

“What is it, son?” his dad asked, tilting his head in a familiar way.

“Come,” his mum said, patting next to her on the sofa. She looked worried. “Have a seat.”

Hugo stayed where he was — he simply couldn’t move; his feet felt as heavy as lead. Instead, with his head still hanging down, he blurted out, “Am I going to Hogwarts in September?”

Silence permeated the room; Hugo could hear the tick-tocking of the clock and the steady breathing of his parents. He could hear Rose’s soft muttering somewhere above him. His parents shared a look, and he saw them shift uncomfortably.

He saw his dad looking darkly at his chess pieces, but that dark expression quickly disappeared, and Hugo wondered if he’d imagined that look. His mum, on the other hand, looked straight at him, and he could clearly see the guilt on her face. Hugo always thought of his mum as pretty — pretty and young; now, she appeared almost as old as Grandma Weasley.

His mum broke the silence first. “Hugo, darling, I’m afraid not.” Her voice held a hint of remorse and sadness, and that made his stomach churn unpleasantly.

“I’m not?” he said emotionlessly.

“I’m sorry, Hugo, but Hogwarts will not accept–”

He didn’t want to hear it. That word. That dreaded word. Spinning around, he ran out of the room, ignoring his parents calling after him. With tears streaming down his face freely, he ran hard to the front door and exited the house. The tears had blinded him, so he didn’t see two blurry figures coming down the path, where he promptly crashed into someone not much taller than him.

He paused only to see who he’d crashed into. It was Scorpius, Al’s best friend. A new wave of mortification came over him, and he shoved Scorpius aside and sprinted down the street, wanting to get away from everyone and everything.

He ran until his stomach cramped up and his lungs burned from the exertion. Panting, he reached the small park near his house. It was quiet and still — nobody else was there but him. He found a bench, half-hidden by trees, and he sat there, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. His harsh breathing broke its stillness, as well his new round of sobbing. Fresh tears covered the tracks of his old ones.

He heard a branch snap, and that made him swipe his face. Hugo looked up and saw that he had company. Of all the people, it had to be Scorpius Malfoy.

Hugo scowled. “Go away!”

Scorpius didn’t leave. Instead, to Hugo’s dismay, he sat down on the bench. But he didn’t look at Hugo or talk to him. He just stared directly ahead with a calm expression.

That made Hugo uncomfortable, and he glared off to the side, wondering if this bloke was deaf or not. He sniffled and wiped his eyes until they were dry. Several minutes passed before Hugo felt ready to yell at Scorpius, but before he could say anything, Scorpius beat him to it.

“Are you feeling better?” Scorpius was no longer looking at the blank space ahead of him. His concerned hazel eyes were looking at Hugo.

Hugo’s own blue eyes narrowed, and he petulantly responded, “No.”

“You’ve stopped crying. That’s an improvement.” Scorpius hesitated before continuing, “I’m not quite sure why I followed a bawling pre-teen to this park–”

“Then you should’ve just left me alone!” Hugo interrupted loudly. “And I’m not a bawling pre-teen.”

Scorpius chuckled. “Well, you’re not now. Now you’re on your way on becoming a rebellious, loud pre-teen.”

Another wave of sadness and anger hit Hugo, and he muttered softly, “Yeah, a rebellious, loud pre-teen who’s a Squib. A Squib who’s unable to attend Hogwarts.”

He’d expected Scorpius to spout out some meaningless, fake lines of sympathy, the kind Victoire gave out, which always made his teeth hurt from the words that dripped with sugar-coated cheeriness. Hugo thought he might explode if heard “I’m sorry, don’t worry about it” right now. He hated how easily people said those lines. Instead, Scorpius’ response surprised him.

“So? There’s nothing wrong with being a Squib.” Scorpius’ tone was so matter-of-fact, as though it really didn’t matter at all.

Hugo stared at him before shouting, “That’s easy for you to say! You’re already at Hogwarts with my sister and my cousins!”

Scorpius ignored his outburst, and that only made Hugo more confused and angry — especially when Scorpius asked, “What are your plans now?”

“Plans?” Hugo snorted. “I don’t know! Lock myself in my room? Might as well, since I can’t go to Hogwarts!” He knew he sounded like a child, but he couldn’t help it. Besides, it wasn’t as if Scorpius was an adult, not when he was only two years older than Hugo!

“Let me get this straight. You want to lock yourself in your room for the rest of your life all because you can’t go to Hogwarts?”

“Well . . . ” When Scorpius put it that way, the idea did sound silly, yet Hugo was not going to admit that.

“That sounds awfully boring,” Scorpius continued in a solemn voice.

Growing indignant, Hugo exclaimed, “I’m not really going to do that! I’ll find a new plan!” He remembered his dad’s favourite phrase, a phrase his dad always used on his mum. “Must you take everything literally?”

Scorpius grinned, an easygoing smile that put Hugo at ease. “Yeah, I do take things quite literally. Guess that’s why I ended up in Hufflepuff.”

Hufflepuff. Scorpius was in Hufflepuff.

Even though he’d already known this little fact, it still gave Hugo a huge epiphany. Scorpius was a Malfoy, and he hadn’t been sorted into Slytherin. Hugo was pretty positive that there had never been any Hufflepuff Malfoys. Occasionally one ended up in Ravenclaw but even that was pretty unusual. This meant that Scorpius could understand the awful whirl of emotions that currently raged war deep inside of Hugo. Scorpius understood on being different from those around him.

Scorpius didn’t have to say anything. He knew and felt Hugo’s pain, and it was because he’d been there before.

So if someone like Scorpius and even Albus — who’d been sorted into Slytherin — could understand and accept their situations, then so could he.

Even if it’d be very difficult.

But Hugo was anything but a quitter. He’d once overheard his aunts and uncles talking about how Albus was quite flexible and had this ability to adapt to unfamiliar territory. Hugo himself was also mentioned to be quite adaptable, too, and while he never realised it before, he knew that it was all true. He, too, could adapt and be a successful Squib somehow in the wizarding world. And he’d never achieve that if he sulked and locked himself in his room! Or stay on a park bench.

“Hugo?” Scorpius’ voice jerked him back to reality. “Are you all right?”

He nodded. The big realisation apparently took his voice, but the truth was simple; he was really struggling not to cry again. Scorpius’ calm support, without any unwanted lecturing and nagging, made Hugo feel grateful. It made him feel like he was being treated like an adult, and that somehow encouraged him to act more adult-like than he would have in his current situation.

“Ready to go back then?”

Again, Hugo wordlessly nodded.

“Great. Let’s go.”

Hugo stubbornly kicked the kitchen counter. He’d had a terrible day. He’d just come back from a Muggle school. It wasn’t anything special. He and Rose had grown up attending Muggle schools before they were to go to Hogwarts. It was their mum’s idea — she’d wanted them to grow up integrated in the wizarding and Muggle world. Rose, that lucky bint, didn’t have to attend any more, but he was stuck doing so. For him, Muggle schools were quite boring!

Aside from a tediously long day at school, his new jacket was ruined from a car splashing mud on it, and he was hungry and craving something sweet, flaky, and warm.

In other words, he wanted some pains au chocolat.

But he had no money on him, what with him spending it on that new jacket that got dirty on the first day he wore it!

And the pastry he craved wasn’t in the house.

The only thing he found were the ingredients to make pains au chocolat, and the recipe was written in Aunt Fleur’s delicate, flowy, and tiny handwriting, which was unsurprisingly stashed in the back of his mum’s personal recipe book.

He glared at the assembled ingredients and the recipe, wishing they’d magically come together to create the treat he desperately wanted.

Nothing happened, though, and he resignedly sighed and grumbled, “Well, I know I’ve succeeded if the kitchen stays intact when I’m done. Besides, after Rose’s disaster with that chocolate cake one summer . . . I’m sure whatever I try will not be as bad!”

With his parents at work, he happily turned up the stereo in the sitting room to its maximum volume. He’d always preferred the Muggle stereo system over the wizarding wireless. He liked having control of his song selection. Singing along to his latest favourite album, he began the lengthy process of baking some of that pain au chocolat.

He didn’t know if “pain” meant the same thing in French or not, but he figured it had to be similar. It was quite a pain to make them! All because of his aunt’s extremely small writing. He could barely read and understand her instructions, and it wasn’t long before he began to wish for a magnifying glass. Better yet, a microscope!

With his eyes straining to read the words, he measured everything accurately, stirred until his arms were about to fall out of their sockets, kneaded with skills that made him wonder if he should become a masseur, and stuck the pastries in the oven. It was all done as meticulously as possible. Yet even though he did everything carefully and precisely, he stared at the gigantic mess in the kitchen and on himself. Flour was all over the counter and on him. He was sticky and greasy from all the kneading he did. He could see chocolate fingerprints smudged on the counter.

Thus entered the second “pain” of all this — cleaning! He knew he could have easily asked his mum or dad to help clean by magic, but he didn’t. He wanted to be independent from magic as much as possible. Since he was unable to use them himself, he didn’t want to be reminded of that little fact all the time.

Sighing, he looked at the chaotic looking kitchen, and he got to work. It took him about three hours to make this mess, and he somehow managed to clean it all up in fifteen minutes — the amount of time it took to bake the pastries.

“At least they smell like what I’m trying to make,” he muttered as he scrubbed down the mess. That smell soon filled up the entire house, and it made his mouth water.

He finished cleaning up the last bit of his mess, and after the timer went off, he went and pulled out the tray. As the pastries cooled off, Hugo studied them. They were nicely golden brown, it looked deliciously warm and flaky, and the buttery, chocolate scent wafted straight up his nose. All this made him salivate more.

The pains au chocolat came out perfectly. In fact, they didn’t look that amateurish at all!

“Now, let’s hope it tastes just as good as it looks!” He grabbed one off the tray and bit into it.

His tongue practically exploded in orgasmic pleasure. In all his fourteen years of being alive, he’d never thought it was possible to achieve this level of culinary delight. Despite the tedious prepping he’d just gone through to make these, the end result was way better than he’d expected.

Even better than wanking! Much better.

And when his parents tried them, their praises, “Hugo, these are wonderful! I’ve never tasted anything this great from other pâtisseries!” (his mum) and “These are bloody brilliant, son! Who did you inherit these great skills from? I know it’s not from your mum or me!” (his dad), sent him into an even higher realm of bliss and pride.

Later, when he finally took a break in his room, he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He basked in his achievement for the day. Humming one of the songs that blared earlier, his mind drifted to the conversation he had with Scorpius three years ago. He was asked what his plans were with Hogwarts not being an option. For three years, he hadn’t any clues except to attend Muggle school for his mum’s sake and get over the huge disappointment of being a Squib. Every now and then, he would feel the pangs of unhappiness with his fate, but he’d accepted the simple fact without much remorse. However, now he finally had some plans for his life.

New dreams of being a famous pâtissier in the wizarding world bounced around in his mind, and a smile came onto his face as he closed his eyes and imagined this new scenario. He knew a lot of wizarding folks used magic to bake, but he’d show them what a difference it made to bake by hand. He’d prove to them that Squibs like him can be an asset to the wizarding world.

“Argh!” Hugo threw his hands up in the air, and he glared at the rather crumbled-looking croquembouche.

In the past couple of years, Hugo had been self-teaching himself how to be a pâtissier, and the pastries all turned out wonderfully whenever he practised. Choux, financiers, macarons, éclairs — like magic — they’d all come together to transform into the perfect pastries he would share with his families and friends. He must had bountiful luck by his side since whatever he made, even if it were his first time, the pastries came out terrific.

However, that blasted croquembouche was mocking him. He could not understand why a bunch of choux refused to stick to each other and form a tree! It was as if the caramel snubbed him.

He glowered at the mess in front of him and said, “Fine! I don’t need to make you for Christmas, you bloody–”

“Why are you yelling at a pile of pastry?”

Hugo jumped, yelped, and whirled around to see his sister standing in the doorway. Rose stood there, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. She smirked before saying, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you, what with you too busy conversing with . . . whatever you call that thing.”

“Croquembouche,” he answered sourly. “At least that’s what it’s supposed to be, but it’s not coming out like one!”

“That’s all? I thought you were being attacked down here, what with you yelling like a batshite-insane-banshee. And I come down here to see you mouthing off to those?” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You need a life.”

“Oh, shut up. I do have one! At least I’m not the one going mad over the NEWTs six months before the actual examination period!”

Hugo and Rose tried to stare each other down with furious looks. She, never once breaking eye contact, edged closer to the choux. He had a bad feeling about this, and he was proven right when she picked up one of the choux and threw it at him, hitting him right in the middle of his face.

“Hey!” he sputtered, trying to wipe off the sticky crème. “What was that for?!’

Rose picked up another choux before she explained, “Remember that one time you said I’ve got an awful aim? I’ve decided to prove you wrong.” Before Hugo could react, she threw the second choux at him, and that impacted his left cheek.

“Bloody hell!” Quickly, he grabbed the first thing his hand landed on, and he flung that, grinning crazily as he heard the satisfying splat on Rose’s shirt. He watched as the yolk dribbled down her torso, and he looked up to see her mouth wide opened. “Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“You–!” Rose’s hurled another choux and an egg at him, but this time they both started to laugh as their food fight continued.

It wasn’t long before the whole kitchen was a disaster area and both were covered in all sorts of goo. They were still laughing as they cleaned up.

“Next time, let’s just have a pillow fight. That’s a lot less messy and sticky,” Hugo said, throwing away the ruined food as Rose washed the dishes.

“Yes, it would be a lot cleaner that’s for sure. But watching your ugly face get creamed was quite a sight,” she said, giggling.

“I wished I had a camera to capture your face when I threw that egg at you!” he retorted with a smile. He picked up the remainder choux and sighed. “And as for the croquembouche, I give up. I refuse to ever make it.” It was his vow. Once he made a vow, he kept it, no matter how silly it was.

“Just because it’s the first thing you didn’t succeed with on your first try? I think you’re overreacting.”

“M’not! Besides, Ms-I’ve-Gotta-Study-Six-Months-Early-Queen, look who’s talking.”

“Is that the best comeback you can think of? Studying in advance is not me overreacting. At least it’s beneficial–”

Their dad’s loud voice boomed from the sitting room. “That kitchen’d better be cleaned in the next five minutes! You two stop bickering and clean it. When your mum comes home and sees it, there’ll be major overreacting from her, and you two will be the one to deal with her. Not me!”

Rose and Hugo stared at each other in confusion.

“When did Dad come home?” Hugo whispered.

“Who knows, but if he’s home, Mum won’t be far away. Let’s hurry up or we won’t escape from her infamous long lecture.”

Hugo shuddered at the imagined scenario, and he and Rose quickly finished cleaning the kitchen, just mere seconds before their mum arrived.

“La Pâtisserie des petits plaisirs exotiques,” Hugo muttered, not caring that his French sounded terrible. He’d no idea what the whole thing meant. He only knew it was a pastry shop. He set The Quibbler down on top of The Daily Prophet. He was quite surprised to see such a normal sounding pastry shop job in The Quibbler, and he was even more puzzled on why that job wasn’t listed in the Prophet.

However, he didn’t question on that long.

All he cared about was the pâtissier job. A pastry chef at a pâtisserie. A pastry shop in Diagon Alley of all places.

Regardless of the location and all the other fine details, this was his absolute dream job.

The best part? The listing said he didn’t need to have any professional training like those elite pâtisseries in France. Since he was a self-taught pâtissier, he hadn’t had much luck with employment in France or in England since many pâtisseries in the latter preferred the French’s method of hiring certified pâtissiers. Of course, his dream was to be the best pâtissier in the British wizarding world, but he really couldn’t achieve that without actual experience, and he didn’t exactly have the funds to start up his own pâtisserie. But yet, pâtisseries in the wizarding world were unheard of. There were maybe one or two small coffee shops that sold pastries in Hogsmeade, but that was it.

Until now. He’d no idea who came up with the idea to have a full pâtisserie in Diagon Alley, but he wasn’t going to complain. As long as he got the job, he’d be excited with this new turn of event. It looked like Lady Luck was shining on him for once.

Grinning, Hugo jotted down the address, and he saw that they accepted walk-in interviews, quite atypical from most workplaces he knew of, but he wasn’t going to focus on that little titbit. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was only eleven o’clock, so he could reach the place in a couple of hours after he freshened up.

Since he lived in his own tiny flat, he tossed his t-shirt aside, not caring where it landed, glad that his mum or sister weren’t there to nag him about the clothing. He stepped into his small bathroom, and he studied his reflection in the mirror.

A young bloke with shaggy, light-reddish-brown hair, its fringe almost covering his blue eyes, stared back at him. He could see the three cartilage piercings on one ear, and he watched the way the light shined on the silver rings. He pulled his shaggy hair back into a small ponytail, wondering briefly if he should cut it or not. His mum and Grandma Weasley wanted him to cut it, but others told him to grow it out until it was just as long as Uncle Bill’s.

He made a face. Sure, with longer hair, he might resemble Uncle Bill from back in the day, but their hair were the only resemblance, along with their height. He wasn’t as broad-shouldered or muscular like his uncle. He ran his hands down his shapeless torso and sighed. He was too skinny, but he was much too busy to go pump himself up at a gym. And exercising was bloody boring. Plus, he really didn’t mind his slender frame compared to all that freckles he’d inherited from his dad. Rose was really lucky that she’d inherited their mum’s skin than their dad’s.

He splashed some water on his face, and he stopped to stare at the one thing he really liked about himself. It was always half-hidden by his pants or trousers, like right now, but he could see it peeking out. His tattoo, the one he got on the side of his hip. It wasn’t an elaborate design; his tattoo was simple. It was the Japanese character for love. At least, that was what his friends had told him. He pretended to forget the little fact that he and his friends had been rather pissed when they had all decided to get tattoos done together. Not one of his best decisions, really, but he told himself that it could have been worse — like getting accidentally amputated. Thankfully, he did like the tattoo, and he slowly traced it with his fingers, going over the familiar calligraphic design and studying the contrast of the dark ink against his pale (and way too freckly) skin.

Figuring he had enough taste of vanity for the entire week, he quickly finished washing up, and he pulled on an outfit that hopefully made him look good — besides, how could anybody go wrong with black trousers, white button-up shirt, a jacket, a tie, and a robe on top? — and he took the tube to the station closest to the Leaky Cauldron.

It didn’t take him long to find the place. The shop wasn’t opened for business yet, but from the outside the place looked quite friendly. The window at the front was huge, and he could see comfortable tables and chairs, all donning earthy colours, that made the place even more welcoming. The shop’s name was on the window, in a flowing font face that fit the shop’s atmosphere. Near the front of the shop, he saw an empty display case, and he briefly closed his eyes to imagine the case filled with pastries, all freshly made by him.

He hoped he’d be the one who could fill the case up.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the shop. The bell above the doorway let out a pleasant ding, and someone came out from the back. Hugo did a double-take. His eyes grew wide and he said, “Scorpius? Scorpius Malfoy?”

Scorpius smiled, making his hazel eyes twinkle with warmth. He ran a hand through his short almost white blond hair. “Hugo? It’s been a while.”

“You work here?” Hugo blurted out. He was surprised. Last time he’d heard from Albus, Scorpius had gone off to France to deal with something business-related. Hugo hadn’t asked for details — he didn’t have any reasons to. Ever since that day Scorpius had helped him accept his fate, Hugo never really had any reasons to talk to him, not when Scorpius was Albus’ friend. Then there was the little matter where Scorpius and Rose mutually didn’t like each other. He’d never heard Scorpius’ side of the story, but he’d heard Rose bitching about “that pompous Malfoy prick trying to steal her number one spot in the academics” or something like that. Really, Rose had a tendency to exaggerate everything, so he was certain that her views were quite skewered.

Nevertheless, after many years, Hugo was now facing Scorpius, and he couldn’t really stop staring at the good looking bloke. Scorpius was well-built, slender like him, but with more muscles. He was taller than Hugo by a couple of centimetres. He didn’t have on a robe, but Hugo wasn’t going to complain. Wearing only a rather tight black jeans and a beige-coloured jumper, Hugo was able to see how appealing Scorpius’ body was. Not to mention the way the jeans hugged his arse. God, that bloke had a lovely arse.

And Scorpius’ voice sounded so smooth. It was as if the world’s softest velvet was brushing against his whole body. Hugo couldn’t remember the last time any guy made him feel this way. Not since that one bloke from two years ago, some Carlos guy from Spain who was quite a looker but way too jealous and clingy for Hugo’s tastes, did he feel such attraction.

To say the least, this job was looking more and more interesting.

That sexy voice brought Hugo back to reality. “Yeah, I’m working here — as a manager, more or less. Are you here for something?” Scorpius leaned against the counter, with his hands in his pockets.

Hugo’s eyes really could not stop staring at Scorpius’ lower body. He forced them to look upward, and he said, “I’m here to interview for the pâtissier position . . . if it’s still available?” He was worried. What if the position was already filled and he was too late?

“Oh, it’s still opened. Are you ready for the interview?”

Hugo nodded, even though his stomach swirled unpleasantly. He hated interviews. He had this terrible tendency to always mess them up. But this time he would try his best with all the confidence he felt deep inside of him. After all, if his parents could go through a war at a much younger age than him, then he could do a ruddy interview.

“Excellent,” Scorpius said. “Come with me to the kitchen!”

Once in the kitchen, Scorpius asked him the standard interview questions.

“How long have you been making these pastries? What is the best thing you can make? Have you studied at any school? Are any of these recipes your own personal ones?”

Hugo answered them to the best of his ability. Then he was told to make some sample pastries. The ingredients and the dough were already prepared, so he just had to make some choux à la crème, éclairs, and financiers as his samples.

Scorpius ate each ones carefully, and Hugo held his breath, hoping that he’d past this test.

“They’re great. You’re amazing. If you hadn’t told me you were self-taught, I would have never guessed it! These are better than some of the pastries I’ve tried in France!”

Blushing, Hugo replied, “Thanks.”

Scorpius’ face turned serious, and he studied Hugo. “Are you well aware what kind of shop this is?”

Confused, Hugo tried not to frown at the strange question. “This is a pâtisserie. You tell me what to make. I make pastries. Then they get sold to the customers. That’s the kind of shop this is, right?”

“Yes, you’re correct.” Scorpius sounded like he wasn’t done explaining, but Hugo didn’t push the matter since Scorpius said, “Now, one final test. Well. Not really a test, I guess, but we have one more thing to do before I can officially hire you or not.”

Hugo looked wary. “What’s this test that’s not really a test?”

Scorpius hesitated and took a deep breath before saying, “Swimming.”

“Sorry?”

“I’ve magically-charmed swimming pools at the manor. Let’s go swimming and have fun. Albus and some other people will be there as well.” Scorpius went on before Hugo could question this madness. “You can just consider it as a part of your job interview. Would you like to join the party?”

Hugo was very puzzled at this unexpected proposition. It was very strange and he couldn’t fathom what swimming had to do with pastries, but he didn’t mind swimming. He liked swimming, and if Albus was at least there, then he could just say this is a strange get-together-but-still-part-of-an-interview thing. Shrugging, he touched the Portkey that was offered, and he concentrated on making sure he didn’t land on his face.

Thankfully, Hugo landed on his feet, but his balance was off. His impending fall was prevented when Scorpius’ strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders. His shoulders burned from the contact, and he found himself remorseful when the hands left him. “Sorry. M’not used to Portkey travelling much.”

“Not a problem,” Scorpius answered smoothly. “Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” His head turned to the side. “The pools are over there. As well as the changing room. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Hugo just realised something vital. “I don’t have my trunks!”

“It’s okay. I’ve got plenty. You can borrow one of mine.”

As they walked to the changing room, Hugo hoped Scorpius didn’t look that hot almost naked. He already thought Scorpius looked quite good fully clothed. If Scorpius looked even better in a pair of trunks, then he’d have an interesting time fighting down his own desire that would be evident through his own trunks.

Once in the changing room, Scorpius snapped his fingers, and with a loud popping noise, a house-elf wearing some kind of towel appeared. “You called, young master?”

“Please bring us two swimming trunks.”

“Yes, young master. Diddy brings them.” Diddy disappeared and re-appeared in about three seconds, which startled Hugo. Even Kreacher had never been this fast!

“Thank you,” Scorpius said, accepting the two trunks — one in a deep, rich shade of blue and one in shiny black. He handed the blue one to Hugo.

Taking the trunk, Hugo thanked Scorpius, who walked into one of the stalls to change. Hugo did the same and went to an empty stall. In there, he looked at the trunks closely. He saw that they were the tight Speedo variety. He gaped at them. He was more used to the looser boxer kinds. He’d never really liked the Speedo ones because they made him feel too exposed. He wasn’t fond of showing off his body to the public as much as say James — who was practically a natural nudist — but he wasn’t exactly a prude either. He just didn’t really like the idea of being this bare in front of his future boss.

But his future boss did invite him here, and it would be rude to just leave right at this point.

He slowly began to strip his clothes, and a realisation came to him. Scorpius would also be wearing the same kind of trunks. That awareness made him feel a bit better; after all, he could see how Scorpius looked underneath the clothes. He didn’t mind the eye candy, yet he also hoped Scorpius didn’t look that great. He’d really have a hard time hiding his hard on in these trunks.

His prediction came true.

The next two hours at the majestic pools — yes, pools, there were two of them — would have been a dream come true for anybody who enjoyed pool parties. The pools were spacious, there were floating trays of food and drinks everywhere, there were loud music blasting the entire perimeter, joyful cheers and shouts echoed all around, and it was a veritable paradise for everyone there.

Everyone but Hugo. He was too busy thinking of unattractive and traumatising images of old people — like his former teachers who were all hags and trolls — in costumes that ranged from BDSM-type outfits to ballet costumes. He really didn’t enjoy picturing Mr O’Reilly in a hot pink tutu, but it did the trick of making his libido non-existent while he was at the pools. Never mind that it was a bloody difficult task. Why must Scorpius Malfoy be that good looking with or without clothes?!

Hugo recalled the pale skin that looked better than his own, the two contrasting nipples on the nicely toned torso, the water droplets on the long muscular legs, the friendly smile and the hazel-coloured eyes that sparkled when he laughed, and that little black trunks. He could see the outline in the front, and he almost wished he could see the cock hiding behind the tight material. But it was the backside that really captured Hugo’s attention. Scorpius really did have a lovely arse, where it appeared firm and “grabbable”.

Hugo was definitely going to be busy tonight.

At least one thing good thing came out of this lovely torture. When the party began to dwindle, Scorpius came up to him. “I hope you had fun? I know this was an unusual interview, but this shop’s going to be different from the others, and I figured I’d try things a bit differently.”

Hugo briefly wondered about that. Just what did Scorpius mean by different? That it would be the first pâtisserie in the wizarding world? He tried not to analyse this to death — not when he was busy holding his desires at bay. He forced a smile and said, “I had fun. Thanks for inviting me.”

“I’ve decided you’ve passed everything. You start Monday at eight in the morning.” Scorpius dragged a towel over his chest, and that momentarily distracted Hugo. “Whenever you’re ready to go, there’s a Portkey on top of your clothes. Say the word ‘éclairs’, and it will take you back to Diagon Alley.”

“All right. Thanks.” Hugo wished his voice didn’t sound so strangled, but luckily, Scorpius was called away then, and that made him hope that Scorpius hadn’t noticed anything odd.

Drifting away from the crowd, he waved to Albus, but he didn’t stay to chat. He wanted to leave the place as fast as possible. Once out, he was back in the changing room and he muttered, “So I don’t start until Monday? Fuck.”

That meant he’d be busy wanking the entire weekend. Not just tonight.

Images of Scorpius in the trunks bombarded his mind for the millionth time in the last couple of hours, and Hugo decided that he’d held out long enough. It was time to go home! After he stocked up on some lotion.

After a long weekend of spending time with his hand and images of an almost naked Scorpius, Hugo was glad Monday arrived. He could start his job, and he could concentrate on making the pastries instead of Scorpius’ chest or any other body parts. He was sick of his overly active sexual imagination.

When Hugo arrived at the shop, he was greeted pleasantly. “Good morning. Did you have a nice weekend?” Scorpius asked with a smile on his face and a folder in his hands.

Hugo eyed Scorpius’ hands, noticing the long fingers, wondering how it would feel . . . Hugo mentally shook his head. He did not need this now! Clearing his throat, he replied, “It was fine.”

“That’s good to hear.” Scorpius handed him the folder. “Here. These are a list of pastries I expect you to make. Along with the regular pastries, there will be a special pastry for each day of the week except on Sunday. Each day, I plan to have a Monday special, Tuesday special, and so forth so on.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Hugo said, opening up the folder to glance at the list that was all in French. Not wanting to show any signs of panic, he swallowed hard before continuing. “I, er, I don’t understand French.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t. I never learned it.” To be honest, he’d never wanted to learn any of the Romantic languages. When he was in school, he’d opted to learn German, but now it was looking like he should have picked up French like Rose and his mum had tried to tell him.

He mentally cringed, hoping Scorpius wouldn’t say anything about how someone can be a full pâtissier without knowing French, but Scorpius surprised him by saying, “That’s not a problem. I’d be happy to translate the list for you.”

“Thanks!” Sitting down at a table, Hugo pulled out the list and looked at it. He recognised the names of the pastries he’d been making for years. When he reached the specials list, that was when he needed Scorpius’ help, especially when the specials list looked like this:

Monday: Éclairs en forme de verge
Tuesdays: Mont-blancs avec deux amants dessus
Wednesdays: Macarons en forme de mamelon
Thursdays: Pains au chocolat en forme de torse bien ciselé
Fridays: Choux à la crème en forme de fesses
Saturdays: Financiers en forme de menottes
Sundays: Notre spécialité la plus attendue ~ Le Spectacle d’Hugo, le pâtissier à demi nu

He grew very curious at what these specials were, especially on Sundays! Why was his name on the list? “Can you translate the specials list?”

“Sure,” Scorpius said. Grabbing the list he wrote down the translation. Upon completion, Hugo read:

Monday: Penis-shaped éclairs
Tuesdays: Mont-blancs with two lovers on top
Wednesdays: Nipple-shaped Macarons
Thursdays: Well-chiselled torso-shaped Pains au chocolat
Fridays: Arse-shaped choux à la crème
Saturdays: Handcuff-shaped financiers
Sundays: Our Most Awaited Speciality ~ The Hugo Show, the Half-Naked Pâtissier

Click on the image for the larger version. Fanart by Heldrad.

“You’ve to be joking!” Hugo exclaimed. “What kind of a pâtisserie are you trying to run here?”

He did not like the way Scorpius had blinked his eyes in obvious confusion. He especially didn’t like Scorpius’ soft answer to his question. “I thought you knew what kind of a shop this was.”

Hugo felt like someone had just spun him around for a good five minutes. Feeling dizzy and faint from this unexpected menu, he said, “How? You never mentioned this in the interview!”

“I did ask you if you were aware of what kind of shop this was.”

Hugo gritted his teeth. True, Scorpius did ask him that, and Hugo had even answered that question, but how could the fact that this was to be an adult-themed pâtisserie slipped past him? “But I don’t remember seeing anything about this shop being . . . being . . . sexual in nature!”

“It was in the fine print of the job announcement in The Quibbler. And the name of this place, ‘La Pâtisserie des petits plaisirs exotiques’, means ‘The Pâtisserie of Small Exotic Pleasures’.”

“What fine print?” Hugo definitely did not remember seeing any fine print on that advertisement.

Scorpius summoned The Quibbler, turned to the page, and pointed at the ad. “It’s there, see?”

Now that he was pointed at the fine print, he read the tiny letters that would put Aunt Fleur’s handwriting to shame. He saw the short message about this being an adult-themed pâtisserie. His mind whirled as he wondered just what he’d got himself into. And he also cursed himself for being overly enthusiastic about this job announcement to read it closely.

“If you really don’t want to work here, I understand. I can see why you’d miss that fine print,” Scorpius said kindly.

Scorpius was giving him a way out. The most logical thing to do was to say he didn’t want to work here. But Hugo was not exactly the logical sort. He was, but he thought about his current predicament. It had taken him this long to finally find the job of his dream, and it was one where he didn’t have to have any special training in France or wherever. This place was in the wizarding world, and he did want to be a famous pâtissier there as opposed to the Muggle World where competitions were stiff. Sure, he’d have to make some unusually shaped pastries, but it wouldn’t be that bad, right? This had to be better than working retail, which he’d done before and hated it with passion.

But then again, he quite worried about the Sunday special. He had a vague idea on what was being requested of him, and he did not fancy that idea at all! He thought about quitting, but then he thought about the benefits. The pay was good, he’d get to do what he enjoyed, and he had a sexy boss on top of it all . . . but were all those really great for him to ever tell anybody he worked in an adult-themed pâtisserie? All in all, he could just try this out, and if he really couldn’t handle it, then all he had to do was resign — even if he had to give up this dream job and such a hot, smart, and so far, a nice boss.

“I’ll do it,” Hugo said nonchalantly as possible. He didn’t want to give Scorpius any indication of his true feelings inside. “I’ll try it out . . . but can you give me some time to practise making those pastries into those . . . shapes?”

“That’s not a problem. We won’t open up until another week. Will that be enough time?”

Hugo nodded. “Plenty.”

“All right. Do you need anything else before you start in the kitchen?”

Hugo found himself looking straight into Scorpius’ eyes, and he almost felt like he could drown in them. The mixture of colours — the browns, greens, greys, blues, and golds — blended nicely with his features. He recalled seeing Mr Malfoy once, who looked like an older version of Scorpius, but with grey eyes. Those eyes were cold and void of emotions, yet Scorpius’ eyes are so different, so unlike those steely eyes.

“Hugo? Are you all right?”

Jolting back to reality, Hugo flushed in embarrassment, and said, “I’m fine. I’ll just need to experiment and practise!” And he headed straight for the kitchen and forced himself to walk normally instead of breaking into a run.

Until lunchtime, he worked in the kitchen. He shoved Scorpius out of his mind, and he concentrated fully on trying to make those specials. To his surprise, he found some moulds already in the kitchen. He stared at the pan he had to make the financiers in for Saturdays. They were indeed in the shape of a handcuff.

For the penis-shaped éclairs on Monday, he’d probably have to knead and shape the dough into the proper shape. Same thing with the torso-shaped pains au chocolat on Thursdays and the arse-shaped choux on Fridays.

The nipple-shaped macarons for Wednesdays would be the easiest. All he had to do was to make the macarons as usual and put some kind of a nut, chocolate chip, or something dark in its centre.

The hardest would be the Mont-blancs on Tuesdays. To make the thin chocolate-figures of two lovers would be tricky, but he could do it. He just wasn’t sure what kind of a lover Scorpius wanted. Did he want heterosexual couples? Homosexual couples? Before lunch, Hugo decided to go ask.

Scorpius was in his private office in the back. The door was opened, and Hugo quietly walked up to the doorway, and he stood there, studying Scorpius’ profile. The room was bright and cheery like the rest of the shop. The desk there was in the deepest shade of mahogany brown, and it was a wide and large desk, looking almost too rich for the place, but it matched Scorpius well. Hugo’s mind began to wander again, and he found himself lying on top of that desk, squirming on top as the parchments and books fluttered and crashed to the floor. Scorpius would be above him, breathing hard and moving closer until their lips met. Hugo would wrap his legs around Scorpius’ waist, and he’d return the kiss until both were breathless.

“Hugo?”

“Oh, er.” Hugo really needed to stop daydreaming around Scorpius! “I had a question about the Mont-Blanc special.”

“What is it?” Scorpius set the parchment down, and Hugo tried not to look at the desk.

“What kind of a lover did you want on top?”

“Ah, whatever. Any. Sexual orientation doesn’t matter when it comes to love, I think,” Scorpius explained frankly. “Make some heterosexual ones, some homosexuals ones, and so on.”

Hugo wasn’t expecting such an easy answer. At least he now knew how open-minded Scorpius was. Nodding, he said, “All right.”

“It’s almost time for lunch, isn’t it? Go on and have a good lunch.”

Hugo glanced at the clock, and he saw that he’d be late for his lunch meeting with Rose if he didn’t hurry. “Thanks. You have a good lunch, too!”

“You’re late,” Rose said with a frown.

“Sorry. Had to ask Scorpius something,” Hugo apologised, taking a seat across from her.

“I still can’t believe you’re working for him.”

He stifled back his laughter. “Just why do you dislike him so much? Other than him taking your number one spot at times? I mean, you did eventually graduate at the top, with him at number two or something, didn’t you?”

She tossed her long, bushy, reddish-brown hair. “Nothing,” she admitted grudgingly. “I just don’t like him. Though I know he’s not a bad bloke. At least he’s much better than that McLaggen bloke. Now he was a right arse. But regarding Scorpius . . . maybe Dad’s dislike of his family rubbed off of me more than I like. Speaking of which, did you tell Mum and Dad about your new job?”

“Not yet,” he sighed.

“Why? Is it because it’s an erotic pâtisserie?”

He gaped at her. “How’d you know?”

“I read that tiny print in The Quibbler.” She smirked. “You didn’t, right? I’m not surprised. You never pay attention to details unless it deals with your precious pastries.”

He coloured before saying, “Shut up.”

“Well, the name of the place sort of gave it away.”

“I didn’t know that’s what the name meant,” he mumbled.

Taking a sip of her water, she gave him a knowing look. “I told you to study French. That’s entirely your fault for learning German instead.”

“Just because you’re a magical artist who studied in France and had the chance to learn French, you don’t need to act so mighty about it!”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Just so you know, I’m sure the family already knows. After all, Albus is Scorpius’ best friend, and Albus does have a tendency to gossip.” Her face turned thoughtful. “I wonder if gossiping is a Slytherin trait.”

Hugo groaned. Rose was right. If Albus knew of his job, then every single one of their family members knew now. “I doubt gossiping is a Slytherin trait alone. You’re a Ravenclaw, and you gossip just as well as he does!”

“I do not!”

“You do!”

Just then someone’s hands slapped both of their shoulders, and Hugo looked up to see Lily grinning at them. “I’m so glad I don’t turn into a five-year-old doing the whole ‘Did not, did too’ thing.”

Both Rose and Hugo said, “Shut up.”

“Nice welcome,” Lily said dryly, grabbing a chair from the next table and taking a seat at theirs. She turned to Hugo and said, “So I hear you’re working at Scorpius’ new shop. An erotic shop at that!”

Hugo buried his face on his arms and bit back a frustrated scream. He could tell this was going to be a long lunch.

“It’s okay,” Lily continued on. “I think you’re lucky. Scorpius is rather good looking. Maybe I should learn how to be a pâtissier.”

“I don’t know about that, Lily,” Rose said, scrunching up her nose. “You’re worse in the kitchen than I am.”

“I know,” Lily said ruefully. “Oh well. At least I can admire and eat those erotic pastries! You can bet I’ll be one of your most loyal customers.”

Hugo accidentally said, “Just don’t come on Sundays.”

“Oh?” Lily quirked an eyebrow. “Why? Is it because of that lovely Sunday show you’re going to put on?”

For the first time in ages, Hugo wished he was a wizard so he could Apparate away from this hell he was going through. “How do you know that?”

“Simple,” Rose interjected. “Albus.”

“And he’s going to be dead when I get off work today.”

“Stop being so melodramatic. And if you two are ready, I want to order so I can go back to work on time instead of being tardy like Hugo here.” Rose opened her menu and scanned it.

Lily gave Hugo one last smirk. “Did you enjoy that swimming party? You know the only reason why you got invited was because Scorpius had to see if you looked good half-naked, right?”

“Say what?” Hugo’s eyes widened.

“Think about it. He obviously couldn’t tell you to actually strip during the interview, so Albus came up with the plan for you to be invited to that party so Scorpius could see then.”

The entire idea was definitely something Albus would come up with. Hugo was mortified. He could not believe the swimming party was a cover for Scorpius to see how he looked almost nude. The entire plan was absolutely devious! And then there was the fact that Scorpius was checking him out, and even though Hugo had passed that so-called test, he couldn’t help but feel aroused and self-conscious about being checked out in that fashion. “That’s a pretty snea–”

“A brilliant plan. I was totally all for that plan,” Lily interrupted, her brown eyes twinkling.

Rose just shook her head. “And you two are the sneakiest Slytherins to ever grace this world.”

“And modest,” Hugo said not so nicely, his patience running thin. “Let’s just order now. I’m bloody starving.”

Hugo wanted to question Scorpius about the Sunday special, and he also wanted to ask about the so-called swimming party. Well, he didn’t really need to ask about the latter, but he was curious, and his curiosity always won in the end.

He didn’t get the chance to ask until a few days later since he was busy practising making those erotic pastries. Scorpius came into the kitchen to check up on him, and after seeing everything was all right, Hugo blurted quickly, “So did you really use that swimming party as a way to see me half-naked?” He blushed, and he was pleased to see Scorpius blush as well.

“Er, yes, well, I didn’t think it’d be polite to ask you to strip during the interview,” Scorpius muttered, looking down at his feet. “And Albus came up with the plan . . . but I was hesitant to do it, but I figured his way was better than asking you . . . directly.” Lifting his head up, Scorpius’ face turned apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry about that, especially if it came off as being creepy and odd. I really should have told you myself.”

Hugo felt himself softening. He could see that Scorpius was genuinely sorry, and Hugo wasn’t really one to hold unnecessary grudges. He could forgive Scorpius for the whole swimming party thing, but he was still a bit iffy on him getting half-naked for the Sunday special. Right then, though, an idea came to him, and he let out a slow smile. “About that Sunday special, how is that supposed to work exactly?”

Scorpius blinked, probably surprised by Hugo’s easy acceptance of everything so far. “Well, the plan for that is simple. We’ll set up a mini-kitchen in the front, and you’ll prepare the pastries like you normally do, but you’ll be topless. This will be more of a treat for the customers.”

Hugo knew there were some crazy people out there, so he had to ask, “There will be some barriers preventing them from — I dunno — molesting me?”

Scorpius let out a soft chuckle. “Yes, there will be magical barriers around you, so that nobody will try to do anything to you.”

“What about sanitation?”

“Sorry?”

“You know,” Hugo explained. “I’ll be topless . . . if I were a customer, I’d question the sanitation of it all.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. With your permission, I’ll cast a cleaning spell over you, and it will be in full effect until you’re done.”

Raising his eyebrow, Hugo said, “Looks like you’ve got everything well planned out.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Except you forgot one thing.”

“I did?” Scorpius frowned, and Hugo could see him mentally going down an invisible checklist. “What did I forget?”

“You.”

“Me?” Scorpius sounded confused.

“If I have to flaunt around in my half-naked glory, then so do you! That’s only fair. And whoever else that works here. Though, I guess for the ladies, they can just wear a bikini or something. I think making them go topless is pushing the limit.”

Once again, Scorpius blushed, and he began to stammer, “I don’t know. I don’t think that’s a good idea!”

“Why not?” Hugo teased, not minding the idea of having a bit of fun with him.

“I . . . I . . . ” Scorpius cleared his throat and mumbled, “I don’t think I look that good to go around topless.”

It was Hugo’s turn to blink. “Excuse me? You think you don’t look good? That’s rubbish! You look better than me!”

Scorpius coughed. “Thank you, but you don’t need to lie to make me feel better.”

“Who says I’m lying?!” Hugo’s eyes blue eyes flashed in anger. “I don’t lie about stuff like that! I mean hell! When we were at that pool party, I could barely keep my eyes off of you! I could not stop thinking of you during that weekend!”

Scorpius stared, his mouth opened a bit, and Hugo wished the floor would open up and swallow him. He couldn’t believe he just said all that!

Before he could force out an apology, Scorpius began to laugh. “Well, thank you for, ah, convincing me. I’ll think about your idea. Like you said, it’s only fair.”

“You’re welcome,” Hugo mumbled, grinning sheepishly, but still wishing for the ability to disappear.

Scorpius quickly changed the subject and said, “By the way, I want to discuss the daily baking schedule with you . . . ”

Hugo was amazed the shop was doing well so far. It’d opened for a couple of weeks, and every day, the number of customers increased. He also read some reviews in The Quibbler — written by Luna Lovegood-Scamander, unsurprisingly — and in The Daily Prophet, and he was pleased to see good results from the reviewers, even if one of the reviews were written by Rita Skeeter. Hugo had read the article, but he wasn’t sure if Skeeter was praising or insulting the shop. He found the article to be quite baffling.

Aside from bizarre “Skeeterish” article, he was glad the customers seemed to enjoy the shop. But either the customers liked his pastries or they just had strange tastes, he hadn’t quite figured out which one yet. Then again, it could also be the Sunday special that attracted the customers. He’d noticed that was their best day during the week.

It was also a difficult day for Hugo. It was bad enough he was on display — not that he minded much — but Scorpius working nearby half-naked made it almost unbearable. Oh, he didn’t mind watching Scorpius, but trying to hold down his libido while being surrounded by drooling men and women wasn’t as much fun. Oh, and neither was watching the customers lust after Scorpius as well. He couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous.

Speaking of his audience, Hugo was eternally grateful for that magical barrier. Without it, he was certain he’d be mauled by them. It was very odd. When he was at the swimming party or at any place he was half-naked, he hadn’t had anybody staring at him with a huge amount lust. But here? In the pâtisserie? It was the opposite. These men and women must all be sexually deprived to the point of enjoying this special.

Aside from Sundays, the other days of the week were a bit better. He’d noticed that the specials for each day flew off the shelves, and that gave him a sense of pride. Sure, he argued that these were erotic pastries, so it wasn’t something he should be that proud of, but his stuff, all made by him, were selling, so that mattered.

He would never forget his parents’ reactions when they first came here. They’d frozen on the spot as their eyes scanned the display case. His dad had turned red, and his glare had been directed to a very respectful and courteous Scorpius. Fortunately, his dad didn’t start on his rant — most likely diverted when Scorpius had said, “Have whatever you want. It’s on the house, sir.”

While his dad tried the pastries — never commenting on their shapes — his mum had quirked her eyebrows and said, “This is all interesting. I never knew you could make such shapes with pastries! Did Scorpius help you charm these to be magically made? No? No magic was ever used? I’m impressed, darling! You need to show me one day on how it’s done. Maybe I should do a research on all this and see if it’s possible to enhance it with magic.”

Only his mother would approach erotic pastries as a research opportunity. He was afraid Scorpius would get that bored look on his face when she’d launched on some more about the topic, but Scorpius had surprised him. He’d listened attentively and took her suggestions and questions to heart by saying, “You know, Mrs Weasley, that’s actually a very good idea. Thank you so much for suggesting it. I’ll have to look into using magic on the pastries and see what kind of visual effects we could have.”

Honestly, Hugo was impressed. All of his friends were never quite sure on how to handle his parents, especially his Muggle friends, but Scorpius was always charming and polite.

And he was a great boss. Perhaps the best boss Hugo ever had the privilege to work under. Hugo noted that Scorpius always had something nice to say about his pastries, always complimenting their designs and their tastes, always thanking Hugo for his hard work, always helping whenever something extra was needed. Scorpius was good at delegating the tasks amongst the other workers, and Hugo saw that his other colleagues were happy working here, too.

Scorpius wasn’t perfect, though. Hugo had noticed that Scorpius could be quite cranky in the morning without the right amount of coffee, and Scorpius was hard-working to the point he was always the first one here and the last one out. Then there was Scorpius’ indecisiveness. Hugo hated it when Scorpius always changed the menu on him. It just simply drove him mad!

And yet, Hugo had a small problem.

He was falling for his boss.

And in his mind, that was a recipe for disaster. He’d heard enough horror stories about inter-office romance, and he was certain liking his boss would be a very bad idea.

While his mind knew that, his heart and his physical attraction towards Scorpius didn’t seem to agree at all.

“Do you know how to make tiramisu?”

Hugo slightly frowned at the rather random question. “Yeah. I know how to make it.”

Scorpius smiled, one of those easy-going smiles that made Hugo’s stomach flip-flop. “Do you think you can make them so that it looks like two mounds on a plate instead of a rectangle or in a small cup?”

“Mounds?” Hugo tried to picture what Scorpius was describing, but he didn’t have much luck.

“Well, you know how when you scoop ice cream and put it on a plate, it looks like a half-circle?”

Hugo nodded. “Ah, so you basically want them to be semi-circular, but have two of them side by side?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Well, I can easily do it,” Hugo said, rubbing the back of his head. “And I can show you the results later, but why do you want them in that particular shape?” Just as he said that, he pictured the description closely, and he saw what they sort of resembled. “Oh.”

“Yes, if you could make them resemble a woman’s breast . . . ” Scorpius’ cheeks reddened slightly, and Hugo felt his own cheeks flame up.

“What’s up with these strange suggestions? Are you that sex crazy?” Hugo asked before he could stop himself.

There was an uneasy pause, and Hugo lowered his gaze, wondering if he’d offended Scorpius.

“I’m not . . . ” Scorpius sighed before muttering, “And these are really not my ideas.”

Not his ideas? Hugo wasn’t sure if that was what he’d heard, but he didn’t press the issue. He sensed that Scorpius hadn’t got offended, which made him relax a notch. Muttering a quiet apology, he continued, “Let me see try making the tiramisu. I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Turning around, Hugo went to work. He cursed himself as he gathered the ingredient. He really hadn’t meant to say that to Scorpius, but he did, and now he felt incredibly foolish. He wanted to redeem himself by making the tiramisu Scorpius had requested.

He prepared the tiramisu, making sure the layers were all perfectly aligned, measuring the right amount of liquor, using the best cream and cocoa powder, and ensuring it resembled a woman’s breast. When he’d finished, he looked at his creation, smiling because it turned out well. He wasn’t attracted by the female body as much as the male body, but even he could see that this was perfect.

He put the plate on a tray, placed a fork next to the plate, and he took it to Scorpius, who was in his office, the door opened. “Here it is,” Hugo said, presenting and setting the tray carefully on the desk. He stepped back and waited a bit nervously to see Scorpius’ reaction, forcing himself to not bite his lips.

Scorpius’ eyes took on a serious look as he studied the tiramisu, and when he looked up, they looked friendlier. “It looks great!”

“It does?” Hugo felt warmth growing inside of him. “Try some.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll taste delicious. Everything you’ve made so far tastes fantastic.” Regardless, Scorpius lifted the fork and cut off a piece.

Hugo felt as if time had suddenly slowed right then. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He watched Scorpius bring the fork close to his mouth, watched that luscious-looking lips part. He saw the tongue dart out, touching the tiramisu, and the tiramisu disappeared into Scorpius’ mouth. Hugo observed the way Scorpius’ hazel eyes closed in absolute pleasure, giving his face a very tranquil appearance. Hugo’s gaze travelled down to Scorpius’ pale throat, which moved when he swallowed, and Hugo found himself wishing he could kiss that pale skin.

Hugo was entranced. He’d seen Scorpius eat and sample his pastries many times before, but this was the first time he could see it being so erotic.

Scorpius was eating another bit of tiramisu, and Hugo wished he was that piece of tiramisu at that moment. His own cock twitched at that idea. He was growing aroused by watching Scorpius eat.

Hugo had to leave quickly.

Forcing his own mouth to move, he asked, “Does it taste okay?”

Scorpius nodded. “It’s delicious.” He broke off another piece and lifted the fork towards Hugo. “Did you try it yet? Here.”

Hugo blanched at the sudden intimacy of this motion. He didn’t mind sharing utensils — he’d done it with past lovers — but this wasn’t something he expected Scorpius to do. He also worried on what might happen if his mouth touched that fork. He didn’t expect England to explode, but he feared he might lose his control and pull Scorpius closer and snog those soft-looking lips.

He really needed get out of the office now.

Hugo quickly shook his head. “I’ve already tried it. I’m real glad you like how this turned out. If there’s nothing else, I need to go back to the kitchen. I don’t fancy burning the place down. Excuse me!” Not waiting for Scorpius’ response, he turned and swiftly walked towards the direction of the kitchen. He bypassed the kitchen and went straight for the loo, making sure the door was locked behind him.

He sat on the toilet, not caring it was dark, not wanting to turn on the lights. He stared at the wall in front of him. He didn’t see the dark outline of the door or the light switch; he could only envision Scorpius bringing that fork up to his lips, his mouth covering the tiramisu, and oh how Hugo wished that tiramisu was his own cock.

He’d only been half-hard in Scorpius office, but in the privacy of the loo, his cock became fully hard. Closing his eyes, he unzipped his trousers, slipped his throbbing prick out from its constraint, and he stroked himself as images of Scorpius never left his mind.

Panting, his hands all sticky, it didn’t take him too long before he came. He sat there, feeling spent and strangely empty.

Wanking wasn’t enough, he realised. He needed — no, craved — Scorpius’ touch and kiss and all the other stuff he’d yet to experience. He didn’t know for sure if doing all that with Scorpius would feel that fantastic or not, but he imagined it would feel more enjoyable than a solo wank.

“God, I’m fucking pathetic,” Hugo said softly, letting his hands drop to his sides. “Why did I have to fall for him? I blame these fucking pastries!”

One night, Hugo and Scorpius were the last ones left in the shop, and they were both closing up — Scorpius out in the front and Hugo in the kitchen. Hugo didn’t mind this arrangement. This meant he didn’t have to stay so close to Scorpius, something he really had trouble doing since he’d been imagining Scorpius in many different sexual scenarios.

But to his dismay, Scorpius came into the kitchen. Hugo’s heart began to race, and he forced himself to take deep breaths to calm himself.

Scorpius smoothly walked across the room and leaned against the counter closest to Hugo. His eyes took on a serious effect. “I’ve been meaning to ask this before. How do you like working here?”

Hugo hadn’t expected that question, and he actually was touched Scorpius would even ask this. He could see Scorpius really cared about the working environment and how it affected those working here, and that made Hugo feel more appreciative towards him.

“Honestly? I like it.” Hugo grinned. “You’re a good boss, and it shows by how everything works darn well here.”

Scorpius nodded and stared off to the side.

Hugo waited for Scorpius to say something, and while he waited, he tried to come up with something to distract his libido. He really didn’t want to get horny now. His mind raced around to try to think of something non-sexual before realising something crucial. When Scorpius didn’t say anything, Hugo said, “I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh?” Scorpius looked puzzled. “What for?”

Hugo smiled slightly. He couldn’t believe he’d never really thanked Scorpius for this. “For that time when I found out I was a Squib. You’ve helped me realise that it wasn’t the end of the world to be one.”

“That?” Scorpius chuckled. “That was ages ago! You don’t need to thank me or anything.”

“Still, if it weren’t for you, I’d probably never have really got out of that anger.” Hugo’s face turned rueful. “Though I still do wish I could have gone to Hogwarts and experienced and felt the magic of that place. I think it would have been nice to have my own wand, study the magical subjects . . . ” Falling silent, he thought about all the stuff he’d missed out because of his Squib status. Every once in a while, like now, he’d feel a pang of regret, and he’d wonder and imagine how his life would be like at Hogwarts. He wondered if he and Scorpius would have got to know each other better that way. There were so many things he speculated on what just could not be.

Scorpius’ next question broke the silence. “You don’t feel like you have magic?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah, but that’s where I think you’re wrong.”

“How?” Hugo asked with a frown.

“I personally believe that you have magic in you. It just chose to express itself differently from most people. It shows when you make pastries. I think your magic’s suppressed, but it reveals itself when you bake.”

Hugo was taken aback. “So what you’re saying is that my magic is what makes the pastries so . . . good?”

“I think that’s a part of it. I think you’re naturally gifted at making pastries, but your magic also helps enhance what you make.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that,” Hugo admitted.

Scorpius laughed. “If you want to explore this, just go talk to your mother!” Scorpius’ eyes twinkled as Hugo started to snigger. “Your mother strikes me as someone who loves to do research.”

Hugo’s laughter increased, and he had to put his hands on the counter to support himself. “You’ve got that right! My mum would really love to research that if I mentioned it to her!” Picturing his mum at her best in front of a pile of books, Hugo shook his head in amusement.

After that little laugh fest, he had the urge to stretch, so he lifted his hands in the air and stretched, his shirt going up as well, revealing his tattoo.

“That tattoo really is nice and simple,” Scorpius commented.

“Thanks. My friends and I got it one night. We were kind of pissed, though.”

“That sounds rather risky.”

“Yeah, but it turned out all right. I rather like mine. It means ‘love’ in Japanese.”

“It does?”

Hugo didn’t miss the strange lilt in Scorpius’ voice. He only nodded before saying, “Yeah.”

“Do you know much Japanese?”

“Nope. I only know this one character due to my friends.”

Scorpius pursed his lips in a comical way. “Oh, well, perhaps you should tell your friends to review their Kanji — the writing system your tattoo is based off of.”

Hugo was quite perplexed by Scorpius’ vague statements. “Why?”

“Because,” Scorpius said dryly, “that’s not the Kanji for ‘love’. That’s Kanji for ‘Scorpio’.”

Dropping his mouth, Hugo exclaimed, “No way!”

Scorpius looked apologetic. “I’m afraid it’s true. But I’m also honoured.”

“Bloody hell!” Hugo groused. “I feel like a stupid prat! I can’t believe I took Tony’s words like that! I thought since that prat loved Japanese culture and language, he’d know his stuff, but I guess not when he’s pissed! I’m gonna go slap him silly!”

“Calm down,” Scorpius said as he began to laugh again. “I doubt slapping him would help him learn Japanese better.”

Hugo tried to glare, but he started to laugh, too, and it wasn’t long before his embarrassment dissipated. Right about then, he felt warm fingers brushing against his cheek. He stilled and stared at Scorpius, who was looking at him in a peculiar way. Scorpius had a very intense look on his face, a look Hugo had never seen before, and it made his stomach churn in a way that sent warmth all over him. His mouth grew dry, but he still managed to say, “Scorpius?”

“You had some flour there,” Scorpius explained in a husky voice, taking another step closer.

“Oh.” Hugo grew dizzy at Scorpius’ nearness. “Is it all gone?”

“Yes.” Scorpius’ other hand grabbed Hugo’s hip, the same area with the tattoo.

Hugo felt his tattoo burn from the touch, and the feelings deepened when Scorpius’ thumb circled that spot. Sucking in his breath, Hugo looked straight into Scorpius’ multi-coloured hazel eyes. Those eyes electrified him; he felt shivers of pleasure go down his spine. His eyes moved to look at Scorpius’ lips, and he slowly brought his head forward. Scorpius tilted his head to the side with his lips parting ever so slightly. With mere centimetres separating their lips, Hugo waited, wondering who’d close that tiny gap. He could feel Scorpius’ hot breath on his, and he could almost even taste him. So near, but still so far away.

Closing his eyes, Hugo decided to make the first move, but before he could touch his lips against Scorpius’, a voice from the front rang out.

“Scorpius? Are you here?”

Hugo’s eyes snapped opened, and he jumped back, ducking his head to hide his reddening face. He mumbled, “I should go now. See you tomorrow.”

Without waiting for any response, Hugo walked out of the kitchen, out to the front where he saw Mr Malfoy standing there rather stiffly, looking very out of place surrounded by the erotic pastries. If Hugo wasn’t so flustered, he’d probably would have found this picture very amusing, but he couldn’t. Not currently.

“Scorpius is in the kitchen. Please excuse me, sir, and have a good night,” Hugo said politely, right before making his hasty escape into the dark night.

Because it was so late, there were nobody else on the streets, and he welcomed that. He figured if he started to mumble to himself, nobody would be around to think he was deranged. And he knew he’d be talking to himself a lot during his long walk home. It would be a great way to get rid of his pent up emotions as opposed to riding the tube, and he had a lot to berate himself over after tonight’s incident. Plus, he knew, knew, he’d be thinking about the kiss-that-almost-happened, and his body would not let him rest until he’s been satisfied in the only way he could get satisfaction by himself.

Really, it was going to be a long night.

The next few days of work ended up being very awkward for Hugo. He and Scorpius both tried to minimise their contact with one another, and whenever they talked, they both sounded formal and uncomfortable. Hugo could barely look Scorpius in the eyes. He was afraid if he did, he’d do something drastic. Getting fired from his job for indecent act was not what he wanted to go through!

Still, avoiding Scorpius proved to be difficult. Hugo’s desire towards him didn’t lessen; it only increased, and he only wanted the man more.

Something told him to make the first move, but Hugo wasn’t sure if that’d be a good idea or not. He really didn’t want to risk anything, but he knew that something had to be done. He just wasn’t sure what needed to be done.

He didn’t really have a lot of time to think about the next step. With the Christmas holidays coming up, things at the shop were quite crazy. Decorations had to be put up, both magically and non-magically, and he had to experiment and make holiday-themed pastries, some erotic and some not. He was quite fond of the candy cane striped, penis-shaped, peppermint éclairs. They’d become instant hits with the customers. Again, Hugo couldn’t help but wonder why so many people had bizarre tastes.

Nonetheless, Hugo made what needed to be made. The demands for pastries were high, so one morning, he came in earlier than usual, and Scorpius was there to help him in the kitchen. After their exchanges of “good morning”, they silently worked together. Hugo tried not to stay near Scorpius, but once in a while, their hands would brush against each other, and these touches made Hugo tingle with suppressed needs. The longer they were in the kitchen, the more he wanted to just say “fuck it” and throw himself on Scorpius. It was all torture, and Hugo wondered if he should ask his uncle Charlie to cast a libido-suppressing charm on him or something, though he really didn’t want to explain the reason for needing that spell to Charlie, even if Charlie was his favourite uncle!

As he pondered on that idea and other workable solution, he heard something come into the kitchen, something with a pleasant twinkling sound to it. He looked up, at the same time Scorpius looked up, and they both saw a dancing mistletoe hovering above them. Hugo stared at it, and muttered, “No way.”

He risked a glance at Scorpius, whose face had gone red. The blasted mistletoe continued to dance, its cheerful tune getting louder. It shook itself hard, and Hugo saw it sprinkle something sparkly. As soon as the sparkles hit him, he knew it’d been spelled with something unusual. Before he could figure out what that something was, he felt Scorpius’ strong hands grab him at the front, and he was pulled into a crushing kiss.

“Mmph!” Hugo said against Scorpius’ soft lips, his nose smushed against Scorpius’. Automatically, he angled his head so his nose wasn’t so squashed. That made it better, and it was even better when Scorpius parted his lips, and a warm tongue traced over his lips, which allowed the tongue to slip inside his mouth, and oh, that felt so fucking good. Whatever tea Scorpius had earlier still lingered on his tongue, and Hugo found the taste to be overwhelmingly delicious.

Hugo was being snogged to death, and he did not mind it at all. He brought his own hands to fist into Scorpius’ shirt, and he tugged Scorpius closer, wanting to feel Scorpius’ body against his. His back hit the counter, and he felt one of Scorpius’ legs between his, and when that leg began to move, he moaned into the kiss, and he mentally begged Scorpius to do that again, wanting to feel that much needed friction in his middle. He became harder than he’d ever felt, and he reached around and grabbed Scorpius’ arse, the very arse he’d been admiring for weeks. Through the trouser, he massaged them, wishing he could touch them without any clothing in the way.

But that desired warmth, all that pleasure disappeared the minute Scorpius had let go and backed away with a shocked look. “I . . . I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!” Scorpius gasped out, looking horrified at what had just happened.

Dazed and feeling lost, Hugo shook his head. “No, no. No! Why are you sorry? Why? I didn’t mind this. I’ve been wanting this for ages!” He reached out to grab Scorpius’ shoulders. “Please. Don’t walk away. Don’t just leave now.”

“But . . . ” Scorpius sighed and bowed his head.

“You want it, too, right? You and me, we both want it. Let’s not fight this, Scorpius. Let’s not. I like you, I really do.” Hugo took a deep breath to calm himself. “I want this. I want to try this. Only if you do, though.”

He was relieved when he saw Scorpius’ face softened. “You really want this?”

“Yes,” Hugo said strongly. “I want you.”

Scorpius’ response was to pull him into another mind-shattering snog, and Hugo had no complaint. He eagerly kissed back, eagerly wrapped his arms around him, wanting to feel the warm body against his again. He could hear the twinkling of the mistletoe above him, and it made him feel so light and happy. Breaking the kiss, he trailed kisses down to Scorpius’ pale throat. He lightly nipped and sucked the area. Hearing Scorpius’ moaning in desire, it made him bolder, and he began to unbutton Scorpius’ shirt. He easily slipped his hand inside to touch one of his nipples. He could barely concentrate on what he was doing, what with Scorpius’ leg grinding against his hardness.

He felt like they were in another world at the moment. He felt like time had stopped around them. He had no care for the world around them. Not even the pastries he had to make. Not even the burning smell his imagination brought up. Nothing could separate him from Scorpius until they’d made love.

“Oh, how lovely! I’m so pleased to see that the mistletoe worked!” a voice rang out, but Hugo ignored the voice. He only wanted to focus on getting Scorpius naked.

“Too bad I’m not a voyeur. I would definitely enjoy this show,” the annoying voice persisted. “But I don’t think either of you would want to burn or suffocate to death. It’s getting rather smoky in here . . . ”

Hugo stopped and looked over Scorpius’ shoulder. He saw Luna looking at a stove, which had black smoke coming out. “Holy fuck!” He let go of Scorpius and ran to the stove. He turned it off, opened it up, and yelled, “Can someone cast a spell to make the smoke go away!”

The next few minutes flew by as Scorpius and Luna helped him fix up the kitchen. The burnt pastries were brought out from the stove, and the tray was set on the counter, and Hugo stared at the ruined macarons.

“Luna,” Scorpius said, “thank you for stopping us, but . . . ” His eyes narrowed. “Did you charm that mistletoe?”

She gave a serene smile. “Yes, I did! You know what I’ve always said! Unresolved sexual tension is really not great for the Nargles. They only thrive on our positive sexual energies!”

Hugo blinked at her words. He was fond of Luna, even if his mum didn’t particularly care for her, but even he could see how eccentric she could be. But what was she doing here? “Luna? Er, why are you here?”

“I came here to give Scorpius some new ideas for the holiday pastries!”

Hugo’s eyes widened. “Sorry?” He turned to Scorpius. “She gives you ideas?”

“Remember how I told you that these pastries are not my idea?” Scorpius muttered. “It’s hers. To be honest, she’s the mastermind of this place. This pastry shop and its theme were all her idea, and she somehow convinced me to run it.”

“Wait, wait, wait. She’s the one who came up with all this? Why?!”

Luna giggled. “Why not? The wizarding world needed something new and different, and like I’d already said about the Nargles, they need positive sexual energy from us, and ever since this shop had opened, the Nargles are so much more content!”

Hugo and Scorpius shared a look of bewilderment.

“Well, I do apologise for interrupting you two. I’ll just go wait in your office, Scorpius.” She hummed the cheerful tune the mistletoe had sang earlier and left the kitchen.

Hugo shook his head. “Only Luna . . . ”

“Yes. I should have told you about her earlier, but she insisted on not telling you yet. I guess she wanted to show herself to you like this . . . ” Scorpius shrugged with a small smile.

“I guess. I’ve given up trying to understand her.”

“Same.”

Hugo shifted uncomfortably, wondering what would happen next, but Scorpius surprised him.

“Tonight, after we close, would you . . . ” Scorpius trailed off.

“Would I . . . ?” Hugo prompted, hoping Scorpius would ask him what he suspected.

“Have dinner with me?”

Hugo slowly grinned. The shy way Scorpius had asked gave him warmth, and it took all of his control to not jump up and down like an idiotic git. “Sure. On one condition.”

“What?”

“Let’s go to a place Luna would not know of.”

Scorpius coughed and sputtered, and Hugo started to laugh, the tension between them melting away. Recovering from his fit, Scorpius said, “I know of a good place.”

“Great!” Hugo looked forward to their first date. Nothing — not even Luna — could prevent him from going to dinner!

“Where’s the fruit cake?”

“There’s no more Christmas biscuits?”

“George Weasley! Why is the Christmas tree decorated with exploding candy canes?!”

“I didn’t do it!”

“Never mind the tree! Where are the presents?”

Hugo ignored the cacophony outside of the kitchen. He was busy making the croquembouche, and he glared at it, willing the mountain of choux to not fall on him like that one and only time he’d tried to make before. He’d sworn to not make it anymore, but Scorpius had requested it of him, and he was willing to try it one more time for his lover. Besides, along with his family, Scorpius’ family had come to the annual gathering at the Burrows, and he’d wanted to impress Mr and Mrs Malfoy with his skills.

Taking a deep breath, he placed the final choux at the top, and he stepped back, hoping the mountain of choux will stay intact. Nothing happened, and he gave it a gentle poke. They all stayed together.

“Yes!” Hugo shouted in delight. “I did it!”

“Just like I thought you would.”

Hugo turned around to see Scorpius, who was smiling with pride. “Yeah. Now I just have to take it out to the front and put the string of caramel around it.”

“Mmm.” Scorpius came closer. “You really are talented at making pastries.”

“Is that the only thing I’m talented at?”

“No. You’re also a great kisser.”

“Only great?”

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Cheeky, aren’t you.”

“If that bothers you so much, you can do something about it.”

“Like?”

Hugo traced his tattoo, glad that he now knew its real meaning. Glad that it matched his lover’s birth sign. He wrapped his arms loosely around Scorpius’ neck and brought their faces near. “You could kiss me.”

“I could,” Scorpius whispered. “And I don’t need any mistletoe encouraging me to kiss you.”

“Especially one that’s spelled.”

Scorpius gently kissed him. “No. Not one that’s spelled. Happy Christmas, Hugo.”

“Happy Christmas, Scorpius.”

“And a happy Christmas to all of us. Come on, you two, get a room later, all right? But first, we’re waiting for your masterpiece! We can’t call it an end until the best pâtissier of the wizarding world come and present that croquey thing!”

Hugo made a face at Charlie. “Croquembouche. Okay, Uncle. Give us a minute.”

Charlie left them, laughing. Scorpius pecked him one last time, and he said, “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

Scorpius carefully picked the croquembouche, and Hugo followed with saucepan filled with caramel. Side by side, they went out to join the celebration. Sharing a secret look, Hugo was glad Scorpius was with him, glad he finally found the right person to love and spend Christmas with.

Hugo smiled widely. He knew this was to be the start of something special.

James flopped down on the sofa and buried his face in a pillow, attempting to drown out the grating, screeching noise that sounded far too much like a cat’s claw scratching down a window. He knew it wasn’t really that, but it certainly sounded like it whenever Scorpius hit a rather high note on that cello! “Scorpius, please! Give it a rest! My ears are bleeding!”

“I’ve only played for five minutes!” Scorpius retorted, dragging the bow across the strings, making James cringe from the sound. “I need to get acquainted with this. It’s a Stradivarius, you know. Father spent a lot on this for my birthday, so I can’t just let it sit and collect dust.”

“I don’t care what-a-varius it is! All I know is that I don’t like that brand, no matter how prestigious or famous, because all the silencing charms in the world doesn’t work on that wooden giant! It sounds terrible whenever you hit the high note.” James hesitated and then admitted, “You sound okay for the rest though.”

“This is a new piece I’m practising. Once I master it, it won’t sound this bad. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m not that talented to learn a piece in one sitting!”

“All right, all right.” James sulked and muttered, “I don’t understand why you love a cello that much.”

Scorpius stilled and gave James a serious look. “Have you ever played a cello?”

“No, but Albus did try to learn the violin once. Those two weeks were hell on my ears.”

“So he didn’t get very far then.” Scorpius looked thoughtful, which soon turned into a smirk.

James narrowed his own eyes. He knew that smirk. Scorpius might be a Hufflepuff, but he still had many Slytherin tendencies, and James recognised a Slytherin plot easily since he lived many years with another Slytherin — his brother.

“Here,” Scorpius said, standing up, still holding onto the cello. “Come and sit here.”

“Huh? You want me to play? I can’t play, and I really don’t want to accidentally ruin that Vladimus or whatever cello.”

“Just come. You won’t really be playing.”

James shrugged and did as Scorpius requested. “Okay, I’m sitting here. Now what?”

Scorpius put the cello in between James’ legs. “Do you know what a vibrato is?”

“Don’t a lot of opera singers do that with their voice?”

“Yes, and so do a lot of instrumentalists.” Scorpius stood behind James and reached around to position the bow and his other hand on the instrument. He slowly dragged the bow, making a note, and his left finger at the top moved in that spot, creating a beautiful sounding vibrato.

James gasped. Not only could he hear the vibrato, but he could feel it very, very intimately since the body of the instrument was more or less pressing against his crotch. Scorpius did it again, and the second round of vibrations against his groin felt so good. It wasn’t enough to get him off, but it was enough to drive him slowly mad with desire. Scorpius wasn’t being merciful; he kept on playing the low notes, kept the vibrations strong, and it wasn’t long before James’ pants became constrained and his breathing became ragged.

“You feel that?” Scorpius stopped the vibration, and James immediately felt its loss, wishing it was still pulsating against him. “Now you see why I like the cello?”

“Yes,” James managed to say in a strangled voice. “Now I can see that you’re a bloody pervert!”

Scorpius grinned. “Well, I’m not the one turned on by a vibrating cello in between my legs.”

“Shut up,” James growled out. Scorpius made the cello vibrate once more. “Stop that!”

“I don’t think so. I think you like this. If I stop now, I don’t think you’ll be pleased.”

James hated it when Scorpius played dirty like this, yet if Scorpius wanted dirty, then James would act the same. “Fine. But you’re going to be the one explaining how your expensive Strabismus cello got stained in the back to your father. Not me. Granted, I am wearing clothes, so it might not get stained, but it’s up to you to take that risk.”

Scorpius froze, and James held back his laughter, watching Scorpius move the cello off to the side. “Great,” James said brightly. “Now, fix this little problem you’ve caused.”

There was a gleam in Scorpius’ eyes, making James be on his guard. Scorpius got up and went to get something from the bedroom. James gaped at the humongous red and yellow, penis-shaped vibrator. He swallowed and said, “No way.”

Scorpius shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who made a good point about the cello possibly getting damaged, so I’ve opted to use something else that vibrates.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” James moaned.

“Oh, yes. And when we’re done, I’m going to compose a concerto called ‘A Covetous Concerto’, and it will be dedicated to you.”

“Great, just great,” James complained. But even though he complained, he really didn’t mind. Whether Scorpius composed a song or kissed him, James didn’t care as long as Scorpius never used the cello like that again!

James Potter sighs in extreme relief that his NEWTs are finally over with. Indeed, those tests live up to their namesake by being tremendously nasty and exhausting. He swears that the officials at the Ministry of Magic are sadistic to the core. He bets that these officials enjoy creating these tests simply to discourage and torture the new rising generations of students, killing their optimism to face the world in a positive light. With all the stress the students suffer at their mercy, James thinks it’s amazing there aren’t more evil warlords trying to conquer the wizarding world.

Finally reaching the end of his goals, James has decided to relax by sitting outside, underneath his favourite tree, enjoying the warm early summer breezes brushing by gently against his face. To feel even more complete with the newfound freedom, his lover has joined him, and is at the moment lying on the ground with his head on James’ lap. Leaning against the trunk, James runs his hands through Scorpius Malfoy’s pale blond locks, massaging the hidden scalp and taking pleasure in the warmth it provides for his fingers.

“Mmm. That feels good, James.” Scorpius closes his eyes.

Smiling, he reaches down to undo the gold and scarlet tie on his lover. As he tugs on it, he also unbuttons the top button and reveals the fair skin. He bares the area more as he unbuttons the next one and strokes the smooth skin, studying it and comparing it to his own darker and slightly freckled flesh. Scorpius emits a soft moan, and his breath hitches at the loving touch. His eyes flutter open, and his usual neutral expression is replaced with a content and peaceful one that he only shows in front of James; on the other hand, the seventh-year continues his movement of sliding his fingers over the exposed skin in an affectionate manner as he loses himself in his thoughts.

Back in his second year, he remembered the shock of everyone in the Great Hall when the Sorting Hat had announced the new Malfoy heir to be in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. James had felt the same jolt of surprise along with an alarming abundance of resentment to the child only a year younger than him. The bombshell dropped even harder when his brother, Albus “Al” Severus, had been initiated as a Slytherin. Talk about a mind-blowing revelation to his Gryffindor-oriented ego, when a Potter went into the house of the snakes while a Malfoy came into the house of the lion.

James recalled his thoughts on the sorting hat then: the old hat definitely has turned senile in its decision-making and it deserve to have a smarter successor, meaning that the first years shall be re-sorted. Of course and unfortunately for James, none of the professors, not even Neville Longbottom, a close family friend whom he and his siblings call ‘Uncle Nev,’ agreed with him on what he thought as a very logical proposition.

The next couple of weeks had shown James living through a haze, a big shield of denial preventing him from accepting the reality in front of his own nose. But then, out of nowhere, through his misfortunes, he saw a group of first years hanging out together outside. That was when he discovered his brother and that Malfoy prat becoming friends. That visual image snapped James out of his haze. Yelling and screaming at his brother for even looking at that slimy cheating scum who had been mis-sorted into the wrong house, James even let his anger out on Scorpius, telling him to stay the hell away from his misguided brother. At that moment, Uncle Nev — also known as Professor Longbottom of Hogwarts, Herbology Professor — appeared, docking Gryffindor fifteen points for immature display of personal anger that hurt other people and giving James a detention in which James had to clean every single greenhouse — seven in total and each were huge — without the usage of any magic.

Sulking and infuriated at how everything was spiralling out of his control, James cursed his brother, cursed Malfoy, and even cursed Uncle Nev for stealing Filch’s sick idea of making his students act like a bunch of squibs! However, he especially cursed that damned, bloody, stinking, good-for-nothing-useless hat for starting off his second year in the most miserable way ever.

With some help from Uncle George, James went on to spend the rest of his second year tormenting the two anomalies at Hogwarts with all sorts of tricks, ranging from giving them candies that changed their outfits into pink tutus, to casting spells that ripped open Malfoy’s bag and made him late for classes, and even throwing barf-bombs — bombs that, well, quite literally, spewed barf on the poor victims — on a group of Slytherins his brother had befriended whom the two Hogwarts glitches hung out with.

Instead of being tell-tales, the two close friends had decided to be the mature ones in this whole situation by ignoring and not acknowledging James; needless to say, that enraged the pre-teen even more. It even became more frustrating when Uncle George, though amused by his nephew’s pranks, had been told by Ginny (who somehow discovered her first-born son torturing her other son and her son’s best friend) to stop helping her son from doing his best to get expelled like an idiot, or she would not only find a way to shut down the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, but she would painfully cut off his remaining ear and castrate him if she needed to.

Over the summer between James’ second and third year, he made the choice to volunteer his time at Uncle George’s shop in Diagon Alley. From there, while he did his mundane tasks as a cleaner and a tester, he learned to be creative and create his own pranks and doo-dahs to continue his vengeance on Al and Malfoy — especially with Malfoy. So during his third year, instead of venturing out to Hogsmeade — except for the first time — on the weekends, he chose to be in a random empty classroom to do Potions and Charms experiments for his new line of pranks that even surpassed the Weasley Twins during their third year.

In his fourth year, his sister finally came to Hogwarts and she was sorted into Gryffindor. He was glad that she didn’t get sorted into Slytherin! One Potter as Slytherin was bad enough! Still not over the whole fact that Malfoy had taken his brother’s rightful spot, James continued to annoy his younger housemate, but the time between the pranks grew longer as he discovered other stuff to keep himself busy. Professor Slughorn and Professor Flitwick, both knowing of James’ strength in those two subjects, allowed him an unrestricted access to the Restricted Section of the library. This opened up the world for James as he studied and absorbed all the new topics to put into his projects.

Then, in the middle of his fourth year, James heard that Al had disappeared into the forest and no one had seen him in the last seven hours or so. Frightened and worried for his brother, James snuck out of the castle and headed into the forest under his father’s invisibility cloak. It was at the entrance he saw Malfoy sneaking into the dangerous area as well. Despite his better judgement, he allowed Malfoy under the cloak. Perhaps the fact that Malfoy showing up to go rescue his best friend finally proved to James that the lad did indeed care for his brother. Not only that, but to sneak out to go into the forest as a third year showed more courage than anyone James knew.

The two of them combined their skills and worked as a team to find Al, who had fallen into an old hidden ditch that was about seven feet deep. Falling into the hole had broken his leg, and he had stumbled over something before crashing in the hollow ground, causing him to drop his wand on the ground above. Wandless and with his leg in pain, Al was pretty much stuck in there until James and Malfoy came. Why Al was in the forest in the first place was a secret between the three. The real reason was that he wanted to see if he could find that legendary Resurrection Stone. The reason they told other people was that he wanted to see Firenze and ask some question and thus got into trouble with the ditch as a punishment for his careless and reckless behaviour.

This whole experienced taught James that his brother, despite being a Slytherin, could be reckless and foolhardy like a typical Gryffindor. He also discovered that someone like Scorpius Malfoy could be a decent person, despite his family background, and he grudgingly began to respect Malfoy — no, Scorpius — by laying off the pranks and only continuing his project for personal enjoyment and knowledge than rather as a mean to torment other people in a cruel way.

In his fifth year, he was too busy studying and preparing for the OWLs to even think about Al and Scorpius. In fact, he tried to stay away from them, not because he hated them, but because he was jealous that the two were in their fourth year, still carefree and innocent, they were not stressing and practically dying of self-angst and mutilation at the horrendous OWLs that James was to face.

Unfortunately, fate remained cruel for James. Professor Slughorn, after manipulatively praising his skills in Potions, saying that he was probably the first Gryffindor in a century to have this kind of superb skills, begged and pleaded him to help tutor one of his weakest students. After he agreed to it, his ego inflating quite a bit, he decided then that Lady Luck did not love him at all. In fact, she must have absolutely hated him because of all the students in the whole damn school, it had to be Scorpius Malfoy.

Somehow James wondered if Uncle Ron’s notion of Draco Malfoy being absolute crap in Potions was actually true and that Scorpius’ father only got the good grades because of Lucius Malfoy bribing Severus Snape with certain payments. With that logic, then Draco’s poor Potions skill was transferred over to Scorpius, making him suffer in a more awful way since Professor Slughorn would never accept a bribe from an ex-Death Eater.

Their first couple of sessions were quite tense and uncomfortable. However, once they got over the initial idea of working together, they decided that the sooner Scorpius improved on his Potions skills, the sooner they could stop the sessions. But they ended up working well with each other. The two strangely complimented each other with their strengths and weaknesses in the school subject. With James being the best at Potions and Charms, and Scorpius being the best in DADA and Arithmancy, Scorpius would help James out with Arithmancy while he received help with Potions. Soon, both of their weakest classes became less of a hassle for them. When the crunch time came for the OWLs, the tutoring lessons stopped.

By the time his sixth year came, James was glad for a year of reprieve before the NEWTs hell started. He did admit that his OWLs results were fairly decent, with him receiving four Os in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and Ancient Runes, and the rest were all Es except for a dismal T for Divination. Obviously Professor Trelawney still did not forgive his father for not taking her classes seriously, and with her self-esteem truly butchered, she taught them everything wrongly. James knew he was not going to be taking the NEWT level one for that class!

The tutoring session that started the year before resumed again for him and Scorpius. He wasn’t sure why they started again, when both of them, especially Scorpius, improved a lot, but without any questions James just went along with it. It was during one of these sessions that James casually and nonchalantly told Scorpius about some of his projects he’d been creating to sell in Uncle George’s shop one day. It was ironic how of all people to tell first about his plans, he told Scorpius, the lad he hated with passion just a few years earlier. And it was even more peculiar how the person who was in the brunt of most of these earlier pranks was the person he just told.

They were actually getting along quite well. It was almost like the two of them were going to be the new Marauders of Hogwarts. Well that was what James thought before that inevitable day changed everything.

It was a typical day in the classroom they did their sessions, but then they got into an argument over something to do with House Elves and Muggles. James really could not remember what started their argument or even what they were disagreeing about! All he knew was that they were both heatedly butting each other’s proverbial and metaphorical horns with each other in the bull fighting arena, and then James saw the red flag flash in front of him. Next thing he knew, he had shoved the younger boy against a wall, trapped and pinned Scorpius beneath his body, and planted a very hot, raw, and needy kiss, with his tongue grazing Scorpius’ teeth. With all the tensions from their argument and with their whacked out, imbalance hormone levels, James went at it with ferocity and gusto The scariest part with all this was that Scorpius was snogging him back and not resisting at all. Not even one bit. At least that was the conclusion he came to when he felt Scorpius grinding their hardness together after several minutes of passionate kissing, which felt fabulously brilliant. Never mind that he never considered himself gay, but James liked it, and he knew he wanted more.

From several severe snogging sessions to the two of them humping each other like two jack rabbits during a year long mating season, somewhere along the line, their relationship transformed from a purely physical one — the ones where their second heads think with their urgent needs — to a more emotionally attached one. Instead of acting like the aforementioned jack rabbits, their acts became an activity where one would associate with romance and love. Yes, James Potter was in love with a Malfoy. Had anyone told him that back in his second year, he surely would have committed murder, and the Ministry would have somehow splinched him into two parts, where a part would be kept at Azkaban with the other at Nurmengard.

They soon agreed to tell their parents, so during the Christmas holiday of 2021, James led his parents, Al, and Lily to the neutral area of the Three Broomsticks where Scorpius bought his parents to have dinner. Needless to say, even after casting three layers of Silencius, the spells were not powerful enough to hide Harry’s and Draco’s sputterings and outrages of anger. While the two fathers were busy acting angry, the two wives quickly told their sons that they loved them and that they would support their choices before turning to their husbands to knock some sense into the two stubborn rivals.

Al and Lily, suspecting the two in a relationship, just congratulated them and wished for their happiness. Al even went as far as to whisper into James’ ear that James owed him everything since if it wasn’t for Al, James would have never found his true love. Not wanting to admit that his brother was right, he also wanted to wipe that cocky smirk off his face, so he stealthily put some dissolving pills into Al’s pumpkin juice. After drinking that, Al’s voice, for the rest of the Christmas holiday, sounded as if a cat was stuck in a bagpipe with its yowling volume at the maximum level.

The rest of James’ sixth year went by quickly afterwards, soon nearing the end of another school year. For the summer, Draco sourly gave Scorpius permission for James to visit the manor anytime during the day. Since James passed his Apparating test with ease, that summer, for almost every day, he’d volunteer at the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes for a few hours, and then he’d spend the rest with Scorpius at the Malfoy Manor or even at his own place at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Wherever he went, he either flooed or Apparated. Most of the time was spent at Malfoy Manor, simply because James felt like the two had more privacy there than at his own house which had become like the King’s Cross, people always coming and going. And privacy is a moment he cherished for all the loving he gave Scorpius and received as well.

When he entered his seventh year, he faced it with a mixture of dread, excitement, and dismay. Dread at the fact it was his last year at Hogwarts, excitement that he would finally blow the joint by next June, and dismay at all the work he had to do for the NEWTs. But Scorpius was there for him. Even though Scorpius’ main job for the following seven months (starting in December) was to be James’ personal “punching bag,” Scorpius stood by, letting James rant out in frustration about the bloody sadistic tendencies of the people who made these sodding tests too difficult! James was thankful that Scorpius was there to lend a hand, and wanted to pay him back in gratitude and in love in every possible way he could think of.

But he was also pressed with another problem hanging over his head, and that was the question of their relationship next year when he wouldn’t attend Hogwarts anymore. James did not want to be separated from Scorpius, but he couldn’t stay at Hogwarts, at least not unless he became a teacher’s assistant, but that was not what he wanted to do. This led him to think about other solutions and other options. Somehow, despite all the chaos happening around him with the NEWTs, he always thought about what he could do in the back of his mind.

And now that the fantastically, irritating, never-ending hell of doom had ended, James finally had an idea, and now he wanted to ask Scorpius if he’d be willing to go along with the new proposition in James’ overworked mind.

“James? James, get away from la-la-land.” James startles at Scorpius’ voice and at the touch on his upper arm. He shakes himself awake from reverie and looks down to see his lover’s slightly worried and amused look. “Should I be worried that the NEWTs did some permanent damage to your limited number of brain cells?”

“Limited? Why, my dear, Mr. Malfoy. If anything, those exams gave me a million more in my head, making me smarter than those Einstein and Mozart guys!”

“Well you were staring off into nothing for the last few minutes. Had me worried there for a bit, you know.”

Feeling panicky, thinking that Scorpius will only scoff at his offer, James decides to just blurt the whole thing out in one long, convoluted sentence. “I was just thinking, actually I’ve been thinking that I want to take over the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes branch in Hogsmeade, the one where Uncle George bought from some guy named Zonko, but anyway, my uncle said I could, and if I do that, then I could live up above the shop, basically making it like my own flat, and you could visit anytime during your last year at Hogwarts, and when you are finished with Hogwarts, you’re more than welcome to move in with me, so how does that all sound!?” Someone in James’ family must’ve been a marathoner in the past or something because he has no clue how he has managed to say all that in one single breath.

James watches Scorpius sit up slowly, seeing a mixture of emotions going through Scorpius’ hazel eyes, and soon he can see calm and peace in them. “James, I think your idea’s good. I’m glad you decided to choose to go after your dream job. You will be perfect for it.”

James waits while Scorpius pauses. He feels Scorpius’ hands embracing and intertwining his, and James relaxes just a notch. “And as for me visiting, that sounds brilliant, really. Now you can pay me back by letting me use you as a ‘punching bag’ when I go through my NEWTs. And well, about the moving in part?” By then, Scorpius’ tone and eyes have become a bit sombre.

“Let’s cross that hurdle when we get there. I just do not want to make any promises that we may not be able to keep.” James swallows hard and thinks about Scorpius’ reasoning, and he decides that his lover is right. Why rush things through when they will have time to cross it later on?

“You’re right, Scorpius. You’re right.” James, feeling overwhelmed with his love for Scorpius, leans in and kisses him gently for a long time, slowly nibbling the lower lips, wanting to make them look swollen and bruised, mostly to let the others know that this young man — his Scorpius — is his and only his.

James feels quite disappointed, though, when Scorpius gently pushes him forward and says, “Stop.” But what Scorpius says next, brings enthusiasm back into him. “I, I already planned a special dinner for you to celebrate you finishing up your NEWTs, James. Can we go get ready for it now?”

Smiling widely like an idiot, James nods. “Let’s go. After being celibate for the last two weeks, I have to say, I will be expecting some nice events.” James stands up and pulls Scorpius up by his side, ignoring Scorpius’ snort and mumbling about how it has only been three days and that sometimes Potters over exaggerate everything!

“Scorpius? Shut up.” To end the jab on a lighter note, James pulls Scorpius against his chest and kisses him again. Unlike the earlier kiss, this is long, deep, and hard with a hint to foreshadow all the passion he wants to emit and share with Scorpius. And Scorpius, eagerly kisses back, almost forgetting to take him to that dinner he has promised. Luckily, the chef happens to be very understanding, so everything turns out well when they arrive there an hour later than the reservation date, and the excitement for that night hasn’t ended at all. Instead, it only marks as the beginning of everything.

Prologue
March 1945

The silence of the night aided him as he crept quietly down the vast and elaborate staircase, trying not to wake up the few people who lived in the manor. He tightened his hold on his small pack, filled with a few clothes, some food he smuggled from the maids, and all the money he had in the world, which wasn’t a lot.

Scorpius Malfoy winced to himself as the staircase let out a loud creak. He held his breath and stood still as he listened for any other sounds. When none came, he continued his descent.

The seconds seemed to drag as he treaded carefully onwards. His heart pounded heavily, worrying that someone would wake and he’d get caught. He didn’t want to explain what he was doing, why he was sneaking out late at night. Lord Potter might have understood his wanting to enlist, but he knew Albus would be furious, and he doubted he could withstand Lily’s sad face asking him why he was leaving them. But he had to go. He had to fight for others like himself and help end the war that had cast a dark shadow upon his life. He couldn’t just sit and wait.

Scorpius finally made it off the staircase and to the front door. He took a deep breath out of anxiousness as his hand touched the handle and slowly began opening it. He pulled it wider and wider and prayed silently that it wouldn’t squeak or groan. When it was wide enough, he thanked God for his success and quietly walked out, closing the door just as sluggishly as before behind him.

He walked out of the entrance way and made his way down the path and past the front gate. Now outside, he looked around the dark English moors. Spring was around the corner, so he knew that soon the moors would be green with life. He looked behind at the manor and stared at it one last time — his home in the past six years. A minute or two passed, and he faced forward and started to head down the path that were illuminated by the moon.

About a couple hundred metres away, he suddenly stopped as he saw a shadow appearing from behind some bushes. He tried to dismiss the person, thinking of him as some wanderer, but he froze as he saw moonlight reflecting against the familiar emerald eyes. He stared at them, and instead of seeing its usual warmth, he saw coldness mixed with hurt and anger. In a strangled voice he said, “Al.”

“What are you doing?” Albus asked, even though it was clear that he knew.

“I–” Scorpius began, but was quickly interrupted.

“You can’t go!” Albus yelled. “I won’t let you!”

Scorpius’ mood then switched from nervousness to anger. “What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot do? I want to make a difference. I don’t want to sit around and wait for everything to end. I won’t do it!”

“After everything, you just want to up and leave?” Albus asked, his emerald eyes flaring with anger.

Scorpius bit back a nasty retort that threatened to escape from his lips. He tried to placate Albus. “Al, I’ll come back. I prom–”

“Don’t give me that! This is a war! There’s a high chance you won’t come back!”

“Al, please, I have to do this!” Scorpius tried to step around him, but to no avail. It was obvious that Albus was not giving up yet. Especially when he felt a strong pair of arms wrapping around him.

“Don’t go, Scor. Please, don’t go.” Scorpius closed his eyes as he sagged nearly with defeat in those arms, with the warm voice whispering into his ears. The same voice that held a desperate edge to it.

“Al . . . I . . . ” He tried to speak, but failed.

“Please, don’t leave,” Albus continued to whisper as Scorpius fought back tears.

Stupid Al, he thought miserably. Why did Al have to make things so difficult? Why couldn’t he just let him go and do what he had to do? It would be so much easier if things had been different between them. If they hadn’t become so close, he could just leave. But he knew that despite how hard it was, he wouldn’t have traded any of their memories together.

As he tried to fight his sense of duty and his desired wants, his mind drifted down his life’s memory lanes of the last few years. Already six years passed since he came to this country, a country that somehow became home to him.

Closing his eyes around the unshed tears, he wrapped his arms around Albus’ slim body and buried his face into Albus’ hard and strong shoulders as he allowed the memories to rush into him.

Part I
December 1938

It was mid-December, not even a week before Chanukah. Scorpius would normally be with his parents at this time, just like any other eleven-year-old boy would be. But here he was, in the back of some chauffeur’s automobile, on his way to some stranger’s house, where he was supposed to live until his mother and father came to the country and got him. He thought it was stupid. Why did he have to leave and why did he have to go alone? It wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to be with some other family; he wanted to be with his own.

“Sind Sie gute Rückseite dort?” the driver asked. Are you good back there?

“I can speak English,” he replied with force.

The driver let out a disappointed sigh. “Keine Notwendigkeit, sich zu zwingen,” he insisted. No necessity to force yourself.

“I neet to get uset to it anyvay.”

Scorpius was glad when the man let it be. He didn’t want to talk. Who would anyway? He had been travelling non-stop since he boarded and left the train station. He couldn’t remember how many days ago it was, but it seemed like forever and it had been terrible. The train had been packed to the absolute fullest capacity. It had been a mad house; one full of emotional children who were scared and depressed. And the boat ride later wasn’t much better either. The car ride on the other hand was a godsend. The hum of the engine was like a sweet, long sought after lullaby. No cries of other children, no terrified screams, and no angry yelling. Perfect, he thought to himself as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the car door.

As the car drove along the dirt road, he watched as the English countryside passed by him. He’d always wanted to come here. As the spoiled darling of his family, Scorpius had been given the opportunity to learn the unfamiliar English language at the tender age of six. He had hoped to learn to be fluent by the time he was old enough to go study at Oxford or Cambridge. Ever since he ran across some poetry by prominent poets like Yeats, Wordsworth, and Coleridge in his father’s library, he dreamt of going to England to study English literature. But now his dreams of attending the most prestigious universities in the English speaking world plummeted to hell just as his own life.

He’d give anything to be with his parents right now. He couldn’t understand it. Last month, when that horrific event, the Kristallnacht occurred, he knew some unexplainable changes had come into his life. He knew that his family, as well as the others in their affluent neighbourhood, were finally given that slap in the face that perhaps things were no longer safe in their country. The last few years proved to be difficult for people like him, but the incident last month finally proved everyone fears. Jews were no longer safe in Germany.

A couple of weeks ago, Scorpius saw the hushed urgency on his parents faces. He knew they were trying to get a visa that would allow them to escape Nazi Germany. What he didn’t expect was to be sent ahead of them. Alone. That idea never came to him, but now here he was alone in the car, and it was all thanks to the Kindertransport organisation. A group of volunteers in England and Germany had arranged for German Jews children a safe passage to England, where they would be placed in foster homes or in child care services. Scorpius just happened to be one of the many children selected. He knew he should feel lucky, but he didn’t.

“Here ve are,” said the man in a heavy accent. “Wellingborough. That house on the hill? That is where you stay.”

Scorpius eyed the gigantic house on the hill. He almost retorted at the driver that it wasn’t a house but a mansion, but he stayed silent as he studied the Victorian architecture of the place. It was an old house, and he could see it. At first glance, he felt a shiver go down his spine at the unfriendly looking place, but as he looked at it closer, he sensed something gentle about the place, despite its sheer size and its formidable appearance.

It wasn’t long until the car went through the gate that guarded the mansion and drove up the vast driveway. Scorpius saw a small gathering in front of the entrance. He saw two maids, a butler, a cook, and a gardener standing off to the side. Closer to the front, he saw a thin man with the most unruly hair in the world, dressed in an expensive looking suit, three boys — two older ones and one about his age — dressed in nice clothes, and a lone girl dressed just as nicely as the men.

They all had a friendly look about them, despite their rich appearance. Scorpius already decided he hated them on the spot.

The car soon came to a halt and the chauffeur came around to his door and opened it for him. “Here ve are, young sir,” he said as Scorpius stepped out. The man then turned to the people in front of the mansion and began announcing him. “May I introduce young Scorpius Malfoy.”

“Thank you, Richard,” the man with the horrendous hair spoke as he walked forward. “Please take the young gentleman’s bags up to his room. Ettie and Loretta will assist you and show you the way.” The driver nodded and began doing as instructed; the two maids moving to help him. The lord of the house then turned to Scorpius and offered a warm smile that made him dislike him more. Then in German, he said, “Welcome, Scorpius. I am Lord Harry Potter, Marquess of Northamptonshire.”

“Hello,” Scorpius replied stubbornly.

Lord Potter merely chuckled before the young girl, about half Scorpius’ age, scurried behind the man’s leg and peeked from behind it at him. Her father patted her on the head and looked back to Scorpius. “This is my daughter, Lily. And he,” he gestured to the youngest boy, “is my second eldest, Albus. And the two older boys are my eldest son, James, and Teddy, my godson and child of a deceased friend of mine. I hope you will all come to get along and make yourself feel at home.”

“Humph,” he sounded. Like he could ever feel at home in some stranger’s home. The only place that could feel like home was with his own family and not someone else’s.

The man let out a sigh and signalled for the girl to go stand by her brothers before kneeling in front of Scorpius and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I know this must be difficult. I lost my parents a long time ago and was forced to live with my uncle and his family. And though they may have been related to me, they may have well been strangers. It was scary and confusing — just as it must be for you. But I will do my best to make this as comfortable of a place to live for you as I can until you are able to return to your parents. All right?”

Unexpectedly, tears suddenly came into his eyes, and Scorpius quickly ducked his head in a feeble effort to hide his weakness.

Was it from exhaustion? Was it from the stress of being separated from his parents? Was it from coming to a foster family more affluent than him? Or was it from the kindness of the lord who spoke in his native tongue to make him feel at ease? Scorpius wasn’t sure what it was, but he forced his tears to stay in his eyes as he said softly, “Ja. Danke schön.”

He looked up to see Lord Potter giving him a gentle smile. “Come. I know you’re probably tired from the journey. My butler, Clyde, will show you to your room. In about an hour, we will have high tea. I’ll have one of my boys send for you.”

Scorpius nodded, and he walked past the others without making any eye contacts. Following Clyde, Scorpius took in the elaborate but homely décor of the inside. His footsteps echoed on the dark mahogany floors where there were oriental-designed carpets here and there. He walked past many portraits of Impressionist paintings reminiscent of Monet and Van Gogh. He easily recognised those style since his mother was a big art aficionado. Meanwhile, he caught pretty urns, vases, and even marbled statues of people or other inanimate objects. When he climbed up what looked like the grandest staircase in the world, Scorpius felt dizzy and wondered just how rich was this Lord Potter?

Clyde finally led him into a hallway (Scorpius knew it would take a while to navigate through this labyrinth) where he assumed was the bed chambers. Walking into what was to be his room, he should have figured that the rooms would be just as affluent the rest of the place was. He saw his stuff already in his room, and he looked closely at his “home” for the next month or so. In the middle of the room, there stood a four-poster bed, its sheets, blanket, and curtains in the deepest shade of evergreen, trimmed with gold and silver threads. There were two night tables on both sides of the bed, where one held a water pitcher and a basin with a towel. There was a desk off to the side of the corner, along with a bookcase full of books that were in German and English. There were two windows in his room, both connected to a window seats that had velvet cushions, and finally there was even a fireplace, which looked as if it was recently lit since his room felt nice and cosy.

“Please rest and someone will come for you later,” Clyde said, interrupting Scorpius’ visual exploration of the room. “I’ll take my leave now.”

Scorpius nodded slowly. He only understood “please”, “take”, and “someone”. But when he saw Clyde leaving, he knew just what the man meant. With a sigh, Scorpius, still in his jacket and all, sat on the soft bed, lay on his back, and went to sleep without changing anything.

Scorpius heard a knock on his door and quickly bolted up. When his eyes opened, he wondered for a few seconds where he was before memories of the last few days came to him. His lips formed a pout before his thoughts returned to the present by a voice behind the door.

“Scorpius?” a young, male voice asked.

He got up from the comfortable bed reluctantly and walked to the door. When he opened it, Scorpius saw the little boy from earlier. Albus he believed his name was. He looked much like Lord Potter, though his hair had a barely noticeable touch of red, and he didn’t have glasses blocking his extremely green eyes.

“H-hello,” Scorpius managed to say.

“I am Albus,” he greeted. “I am here to take you to tea. Ready?”

Scorpius nodded, able to understand the gist of what he said, and followed him down the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind him. His gaze focused on the ground in front of him as his feet kept in step with the boy’s. He wondered to himself, as they walked, how he was supposed to ever feel truly comfortable at this place. He could barely speak or understand English, even with all the teachings, and he didn’t expect he would improve much by the time he left. But maybe it didn’t really matter. It shouldn’t take his parents too long to come and get him, so did it really matter if he could keep conversation with any of them?

He was too lost in his own thoughts to notice Albus coming to a stop and turning to him. “Is something wrong?” he asked and Scorpius was brought back to reality.

“No,” he replied, a bit disappointed at the interruption of the silence. “I am goot.”

“You sure?”

Scorpius nodded, eager to get moving again. And to his relief, Albus accepted the response and they continued making their way down the hall. He didn’t miss the occasional glances from the other boy in his direction. The looks made him feel slightly uncomfortable, but it was soon over when they reached the bottom of the staircase.

“Good evening,” a voice spoke and Scorpius looked to see a light-brown haired boy — Teddy was it? — who was standing next to the eldest Potter son, James.

The greeting made Albus smile brightly. “Hello, Teddy,” he replied. “James,” he nodded to his brother. “Shouldn’t you two be in the dining room?”

“We will be in there in a bit,” James answered. “We were having a short discussion . . . about school matters.”

“All right,” he said and turned to Scorpius. “Come along. I will take you to the dining room.”

Scorpius briefly studied the two boys — no, they were men — in front of him. Teddy reminded him of one of his friends back home, a gentle, studious sort. James on the other hand seemed to be the energetic chap, judging by the way his deep brown eyes sparkled with mischief.

But before he could discern anything more about them, Albus picked up the pace, and soon they were both in the dining hall. If the rest of the house was fancy as Scorpius had seen earlier, then the dining hall was perhaps the most majestic place he found himself in. He took in the golden chandeliers, the ornate wall decorations, and the huge table laden with sandwiches, biscuits, and teas.

The magnificence of this place made him freeze. He realised that he hadn’t changed out of his travelling clothes and felt embarrassed by his appearance. Then again, the Nazis didn’t really let him pack much of his nicer clothes, so it wouldn’t have really mattered. He remembered that when his parents found out he was selected for the Kindertransport, they were given a list on what he was allowed to bring with him. Despite that, though, he still could have freshened up and even taken his jacket off.

“Are you cold?” asked Lord Potter in German, entering the dining hall.

“N-nein,” Scorpius blushed at the question. “I’m just comfortable like this.”

“Do have a seat. Anywhere.”

Instead of sitting, he waited until the lord of the house took his seat first along with the other occupants. Then he finally sat down in a spot between Lord Potter and Albus with Teddy across from him. James sat next to Teddy, and Lily sat next to Albus.

As he slowly began to sip at his warm tea in front of him, Scorpius anticipated tea to be a silent one. His expectations failed him as he saw that the Potters were vocal and loud — quite the opposite from his family.

Teddy and Harry talked to each other about something Scorpius couldn’t catch. James teased Lily, and Lily, not letting her big brother win over her, teased back, the two bantering back and forth together.

Albus at the moment wasn’t saying anything, but Scorpius figured that he’d enter the discussion with his siblings in a minute or so.

Again, Scorpius’ theories were thrown in his face when Albus turned to him and said slowly, “Sorry. We’re kind of loud at times.”

Scorpius frowned as he tried to separate the words together and translate them in his head so he could understand. “It iz fine.”

“Do you like Mickey Mouse?”

Something inside of Scorpius made him smile a little as that question made him recall his favourite film shorts on that eccentric mouse from United States. “Yes. I like Mickey Maus.”

He watched the way Albus’ green eyes twinkled. “I loved him in Steamboat Willie. Have you seen that?”

“Ja — Yes. I did.”

He saw the quick glance Albus threw at his father, but then Albus said, “Our local theatre will be showing that and other Mickey Mouse shorts. Would you like to come with me?”

That was too long for Scorpius to understand. “I sorry. I . . . Ich verstehe nicht.” I do not understand. Scorpius forgot the English for that. Luckily, Lord Potter became his interpreter.

“Yes, I go. Vith you. I go.” He accepted Albus’ invitation, but then he wondered why he did so. He shouldn’t be getting too close with them. He wasn’t going to stay here long, and he knew they were only being nice out of sympathy, and he didn’t like that. He still had his pride!

“Great!” Albus exclaimed with a grin. “We can go tomorrow afternoon.” He paused and turned to Lord Potter. “Is that all right, Dad?”

The man looked to Scorpius and asked in German if it was okay with him. He nodded and Lord Potter smiled in reply. “Then you two may go.”

“Thank you,” Albus said before taking a bite out of a sandwich. After taking a second bite, he must have noticed Scorpius had not yet eaten. “Aren’t you going to eat?” he managed to ask with a full mouth, his fingers pointing to the plate of sandwiches.

“What have I said about talking with food in your mouth?” Lord Potter admonished gently.

Albus swallowed. “Sorry,” he apologised and looked over at Scorpius, obviously still waiting for an answer.

Scorpius, feeling obligated, timidly reached for a sandwich and took a bite. Upon tasting, he realised he was actually hungrier than he thought, his nervousness masking it previously. He quickly took another bite, enjoying the taste of cucumber and dill.

“They are good, aren’t they?” Albus spoke with a smile, only to get a confused look from Scorpius in reply. The boy pointed to the sandwich. “Good?”

This time he understood and nodded in agreement. “Goot,” he replied once he swallowed his bite.

The other boy left him alone then, making a few jokes here and there with the others, letting Scorpius have a few moments to himself. He found it nice to not have to struggle to understand what the boy was saying, though he had to admit it was somewhat nice to have someone his own age to talk to. He hadn’t talked to any other kid since right before he left Germany. Yes, he had been with hundreds of other children on the way to England, but none of them were really up for a chat and neither had he. But again, it didn’t really matter. It wouldn’t be long until he was with children like himself again and with his own family, where he wouldn’t have to translate every little word.

After finishing his second sandwich, Scorpius’ attention was once again captured by Albus, who looked like he was struggling with something. “W–,” he began with scrunched face. “Uh, one second.” He then turned to Lord Potter then and asked, “May I get up and ask you a question?”

“I don’t see why you need to get up to do that, but all right,” he replied and the boy got up and went to his father.

Scorpius eyed the both of them curiously as Albus whispered in the man’s ear, and the man whispered back. After getting whatever answer he needed, he scurried back to his seat and smiled at Scorpius before speaking again. “Wie tun . . . Sie mögen . . . es hier bis . . . jetzt?”

Though it was forcibly spoken, and with a bad accent on top of it, Scorpius was able to understand that the boy was asking how he liked the place so far. “I . . . ” He started, but wasn’t really sure how to answer. After all, he had just gotten there and thought he already decided he hated them — he didn’t really want to be rude. “It . . . is . . . goot,” he eventually answered.

Smiling, Albus sat back down at his spot and resumed his sandwich.

Scorpius finished his, drank some tea, and then he realised something. “V-vhere iz your mutter?”

Apparently it was the wrong question to ask since everybody — despite not knowing German knew that word — stopped talking.

Quickly, Scorpius apologised. “I am sorry asking.”

Lord Potter gave him a gentle smile and answered in German. “It’s okay, Scorpius. My wife, Lady Potter, passed away a long time ago from diphtheria. We all miss her, but we get along fine now.”

Nodding, Scorpius apologised again in German and Lord Potter assured him that it was fine. “After tea, why don’t you write a letter to your parents? I’ll send it off for you.”

“Ja. I vill do that. Thank you.”

With a nod to everyone, Lord Potter left the room, with Lily tagging behind him, asking him something about reading a book later. Teddy and James both took their leave in the labyrinth, and soon it was just him and Albus.

“Come. I’ll take you back to your room.”

Understanding the gist of it, Scorpius followed Albus through the mazes and soon they were both in his room.

“May I stay here and keep you company?”

Scorpius blinked as he tried to figure out the meaning.

Grinning, Albus pointed to himself and then pointed to the floor. “Me stay?”

“Ah, ja, yes. You stay.”

And that was what they did. Albus sat on one of the window seats while Scorpius sat at his desk and wrote a letter to his parents saying he arrived well and what the Potters were like. He was tempted to write awful things about them, but he decided against it since they really weren’t bad — on the contrary they were great. The Potters were vastly different from the Malfoys. The Potters were openly friendly and warm while his parents were loving as them but more closed off to their emotions.

Quickly, he finished up the letter and when done, he walked over to where Albus sat, and before he could even ask, Albus scooted over. “Done? Here, sit.”

He sat, without saying anything, and he looked out the window to take in the view of Wellingborough at the bottom of the hill, the woodsy area that scattered around the manor, and the English moors he had read about in his books.

February 1939

It had been over a month, almost two, since his arrival at the Potter household, and Scorpius was slowly warming up to it. He had gone with Albus the day after his arrival to the theatre and watched the featured Mickey Mouse shorts. They were all in English, but he had seen them before back in Germany and could easily tell what was going on and when to laugh. Afterwards, the two of them headed back to the Potter manor, stopping for a second along the way to buy ice cream from a bicycling merchant.

Through the weeks, he had continued exchanging small letters with his parents, each time being promised they would make it to England soon, but never being able to yet. They will get here when they can, he told himself repeatedly. He was certain that it wouldn’t be long. After all, they had said they would be there as soon as possible to get him, and his parents never lied.

“Ich vermisse dich,” he whispered, the German words for ‘I miss you’, as he signed his name on the letter.

He then heard a knock on the door and turned his head towards it. “Yes?”

“It is I,” Lord Potter replied. “May I come in?”

“You may,” he answered and set down his pen on the table as the door opened, and Lord Potter walked in.

“Good evening, Scorpius,” he greeted and approached the table.

Scorpius smiled lightly. “Hello, Lord Potter.”

He returned the smile before moving on to explain why he was there; speaking in German to ensure the boy understood everything. “As you probably have realised, the length of your stay here isn’t certain. I have decided that it is probably best to enrol you in Wellingborough School where the boys attend. This way you can maintain your education and not fall behind once you leave. It will also give you something to do while the others are at school. How would you like that?”

Scorpius thought long and hard about Lord Potter’s suggestion. He hadn’t even thought about going to school — at least not until he was reunited with his parents. The idea of going to school without them here felt like betrayal in his part. He just didn’t want to get too close to this family during his duration here. And going to school under Lord Potter’s name made it seem like the gap he had between his parents grew larger and larger.

In Germany, Scorpius loved school. Naturally bright and studious, he had been at the top of his class, and he missed that feeling. He missed the challenges of learning, but he knew instinctively that if he went to a British school, he would no longer be at the top of the class. At least not for a couple of years.

But he still wanted to learn. His mind drifted through the events of the past two months. Teddy was already finished with school, so he helped with Lord Potter’s job. James was in his last year, so he attended school as well as Albus, while Lily went to an all-girls’ school in the town. While everyone worked or attended school, during the day, Scorpius was with the hired help in the big mansion. With the German books he had in his room, he self-studied what he could, and when the work day and school day both ended, he’d be with the Potters having tea or playing with Albus and Lily.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he was lonely during the day. Along with that, he felt like his English wasn’t improving as fast as it would if he had gone to school.

With mixed feelings churning inside of him, he took a deep breath and said, “Ja. I want to go to school. But I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You are never going to be a burden, Scorpius. Believe it or not, your father and I actually met each other during the Great War. He fought for Germany, and I fought for England, and while we were on two opposing enemy front, we actually learned to respect one another. I wouldn’t say we became friends since our mutual animosity did stem from that war, but after the war, we continued to correspond with each other, and it was he who helped me establish myself as who I am today. He was also the one who, more or less, slapped me back to reality when my wife passed away. I don’t think you are aware that we’d travel to each other countries, and we’d meet up from time to time.” Lord Potter took a breath and smiled. “Good thing I dealt with a lot of Germans at work these past decades! Otherwise, we’d have some huge language barrier. I knew becoming fluent in German would soon find its usage other than for work purposes!”

Scorpius smiled at the little joke. Lord Potter’s German was good — sounding practically like a native-speaker. And as for his father knowing Lord Potter, he didn’t know. He knew his father travelled to England many times for business trips, at least.

“Now, when you were sent here, I didn’t know for sure who I was going to get. See, I volunteered with the Jewish Refugee Committee to offer my place to one child, but it wasn’t until after I received news that you arrived in England that I knew it was you. You coming here was all merely a coincidence, but I’m glad it is you. And since your parents are still having some difficulties with the immigration office, and we are not sure how long they will be delayed, I don’t want your education to falter like this, so after I contacted your father about this, we both agree that you should start attending school here.”

The news of his fathers’ knowing each other really did put a new angle on how Scorpius thought about the Potters now. Despite maintaining a civil appearance with them, he still tried to keep his distance from them and still tried to “hate” them, but trying to hate them was trying to hate himself and his parents. He just couldn’t really do that. These people were genuinely good people, so to hate them for being here is much like Hitler hating the Jews just for who they are. And Scorpius definitely did not want to be compared to that monster.

Nodding, he said, “I’ll go. If it’s all right with you and father, I’ll go.”

“Then with today being Thursday, you will start the coming Monday. Tomorrow, you will need to get fitted for the school uniform, all right?”

“Ja, thank you.”

“Good,” the man smiled before glancing over to the letter. “Would you like me to send Clyde up to collect and mail off your letter once you seal it all up?”

He nodded. “Ja.”

“All right then, I will see in the morning.” Before leaving, he stopped at the doorway and said , “Good night.”

“Gute nacht,” Scorpius replied with a smile.

Lord Potter left and Scorpius began sealing the letter in a nearby envelope. Clyde arrived soon after and collected the letter to send it off for him. He then went to bed, excited about the latest occurrence and the preparations the next day.

Scorpius was glad on Monday to find out he had all his classes with Albus. If it wasn’t for him, he’d have likely gotten lost and confused. The teachers had a terrible issue of talking too fast for him, but luckily Albus was always there to clarify.

The morning passed by in a blur, and when it was midday meal time, Scorpius and Albus sat together, sharing the long table with the other boys. However, instead of interacting with them, Scorpius was busy concentrating on Albus going over one of their lectures from earlier.

“Eight times n plus forty-six equals seventy-eight,” Albus read as he pointed to his paper. “We need to find out what n equals.” He paused and looked up at Scorpius. “Understand?”

He nodded and Albus smiled before continuing. “First, we take forty-six and subtract it from seventy-eight. Then, we divide the resulting number by eight. The answer to that is n.”

“Okay,” he replied with another nod and began working on the problem on his own paper, muttering the numbers under his breath in German as he did so. “Sechvierzig . . . achtundsiebzig . . . zweidreibig . . . acht . . . vier.” He then looked up to Albus and asked, “Like dis?”

Albus leaned over to look before smiling and replying, “Yes! And the others are just like that except some have different variables. The variables are all the letters next to numbers.”

The two worked this way until all of their assignments were done. Tired both mentally and physically, Scorpius leaned back in his seat and sighed.

“Tired?”

“Ja, tired. But . . . ” he paused as he tried to find the words to express himself. “I miss school. I miss works.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re with me.”

At first, Scorpius didn’t quite catch the sentence, so Albus repeated it. “Ah.” He gave Albus a tentative smile. “I am happy you help. Help me. Da — Thank you.”

“Bitte.”

That single word made him give Albus a genuine smile.

Scorpius had been worried about being stuck alone at school as Albus spent all his time with friends, though the boy had rarely left his side. Albus told him that that he didn’t have a specific group of friends, that he was on good terms with practically everyone in his year, but he wasn’t too close to anyone and usually stuck to himself or with family. This seemed odd to Scorpius, who had had a specific circle of friends in school that he rarely strayed from. Still, having Albus to himself, or even with just a family member or two, appeared more appealing than ending up the odd one out when around a mountain of people he didn’t know.

“Could I have your bread pudding?” Louis, the only relative of Albus’ in their year, asked Scorpius, pointing to the odd looking food on his plate.

“Ja.”

“Thanks!” Louis exclaimed, as he began moving the pudding to his own plate.

“So, Scor,” Albus began, “How do you like it here so far?”

“It is goot,” he replied with a smile. “De teachers are a bit confusing, but you are goot at explaining.”

The answer seemed to please Albus, whose face lit up at the reply. “That is great!”

“I think you are a loon,” Louis commented as he finished off a bite of pudding. “Both of you. School is boring. I hate being forced to learn all this useless stuff.”

“I like to learn,” Scorpius said timidly.

“Me too,” Albus agreed with a smirk. “Louis here just doesn’t have much brain, and learning nearly kills him.”

“Hey!” Louis exclaimed. “Not nice!”

Scorpius gave a confused look, not having caught all of what was said. Luckily, Albus noticed and pulled out a piece of paper and pen. Albus had learned earlier that it was easier for Scorpius to understand things if he wrote it down. Louis is pretty stupid and learning hurts his head, he scribbled down before passing it to Scorpius.

He chuckled and said, “Poor, Louis.”

“Now you got him laughing at me, too!” Louis glared Albus.

“Maybe you should study more.”

“Shut up,” Louis mumbled and continued eating the pudding.

Scorpius just smiled at the exchange, finding it a bit familiar to conversations with his friends back home. Even with different language, culture, and customs, the children were a lot like the ones he had known. Of course, Albus didn’t compare to most of his old friends. He was a lot nicer, considerate, and went out of his way to help him out even if he didn’t need to. When it was time to leave, he would really miss the youngest Potter boy.

July 1939

Albus gave Scorpius a grin as they reached the fountain, their breaths heavy from the long sprint. They were playing Bulldogs with Lily, Louis, and some other children Scorpius had met the previous week: Rose, Hugo, Lorcan, and Lysander; the former being brother and sister and the latter twins. They were the children of Lord Potter’s friends who came to visit occasionally to catch up and discuss things that would make Scorpius’ mind spin in confusion when he tried to listen in.

School had been over for about a week. As expected, Scorpius hadn’t been top of his class as he had been back in Germany, but he didn’t mind so much. He was just content to be able to make it through without falling helplessly behind. He owed it all to Albus, who never seemed to mind taking the time to explain the schoolwork. Spending time with Albus, as well as attending school, also helped him improve his English. Less and less he had to ask Lord Potter to interpret what Albus or the others said.

“You guys are too fast,” Rose panted a few feet away.

“Not our faults you lot are slow,” Albus smirked.

“Mark my words Albus Severus Potter, I will tag you before this game is out.”

“You can try,” he shrugged.

After shooting him a glare, Rose ran off again to attempt to tag the others with Lorcan. The eldest twin managed to tag Hugo before making it to the fountain along with Lily, Louis, and Lysander.

They ran around — the area filled with laughter of his new friends. Scorpius dashed around the fountain, feeling the breeze pass by him. Playing games like this with others allowed him to escape his worries about his parents. It had already been more than six months now since he came here, and despite the letters of encouragement from them, which were becoming fewer as time went on, he couldn’t help but worry and resent his parents for not keeping their promises.

But regardless, he tried not to think about them in a negative manner and only tried to keep up the faith on them coming here soon. Perhaps in a couple more months? He hoped it wouldn’t be much longer. He did truly miss them and worried for them.

Suddenly, he heard James’ naturally loud booming voice. “Okay, young ones! It’s time for dinner! Come on in before I eat it all!”

That distracted him, so he stopped for a few seconds and that was when Albus, who had been it, pounced on him, making Scorpius fall over with Albus on top of him.

“Oof!” That fall knocked the wind out of him. He dazedly looked up into Albus’ grinning face.

“Got you! You’re it when we come back outside later!” Standing up, Albus extended his hand out to help Scorpius off the ground. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you fall.”

“It is all right.” Scorpius recovered from his fall, and with Albus’ warm hand clasping his, he stood up and smiled at him. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m fine. Now, come! Let’s go. I fear one day he will eat all the food. He knows how to clean up more than his share!”

Understanding and laughing at Albus’ hyperbole, the two of them and their friends all ran into the house. Both maids scolded all of them for bringing in dirt, but they didn’t pay any attention since the maids all scolded them with smiles on their faces.

After they all quickly cleaned themselves up, they all gathered into the large dining room, where the adults along with James and Teddy were already present.

Scorpius took his usual spot between Albus and Lily, and the next hour showed a picture of happiness as they all ate good foods and chattered amongst themselves.

“Oh, Ronald,” the bushy-haired woman down the table shook her head at her red-headed husband. “Must you shove your face with food like that? The food isn’t going to disappear.”

Mr. Weasley swallowed his mouthful and smiled cheekily. “But Hermione, it tastes so good.”

“The flavour will last longer if you savour it.”

“But I much prefer the taste of loads of it at once.”

“What am I going to do with you?” she muttered, making the children giggle simultaneously.

Teddy flashed James a smile. “So I take it you get your eating habits from your mum’s side, eh?”

“Shuwt up,” he replied with a mouthful, earning a playful nudge from his friend.

“You know,” the odd blonde woman, Luna Scamander, spoke up. “I hear that eating fast can make a hole in your stomach. That is why Rolf here eats as slow as a snail. He doesn’t want to take the chance, you know?”

“Know you’re a nut,” Mrs. Weasley muttered into her cup.

“Hmm?” Mrs. Scamander sounded with light curiosity.

The woman shook her head. “Nothing, nothing.”

Scorpius bit back a snicker and he could tell Albus was doing the same. He could sense the animosity between the two women, well, from Mrs. Weasley’s side mostly. Mrs. Scamander’s head was too far off to carry any hostility from what Scorpius noticed. The group of people was interesting though, he noted. Lord Weasley, Mr. Weasley’s eldest brother, seemed the epitome of cool and his wife, Lady Weasley, the most elegant woman he had seen since he last saw his own mother. The Scamanders were the craziest people and the most knowledgeable in abnormal facts. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were an odd match, him being a not-too-bright man with a large appetite for food and her an intelligent woman with a large appetite for books.

“May we be excused?” Victoire asked, after finishing the last bite on her plate. “Dominique and I wanted to finish embroidering our handkerchiefs.”

“Yes, you may,” Lady Weasley answered.

“Thank you, Mother,” Dominique replied before looking to both Lily and Rose. “Would you two like to join us?”

“No, thank you,” Rose answered. “We have got to beat the boys at Bulldogs.”

Scorpius saw the tongue Hugo gave his sister behind their mother’s back. “You will never beat us, right Scorpius?”

“Er.” Scorpius looked at Lily who gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes he ever saw. “I don’t know. The girls are . . . ” He struggled to come up with the word. “Tough.”

“He’s right! We’ll show them, Lily!” Rose made her declaration, and after excusing herself from the table, she headed outside first with Hugo following.

Albus and Scorpius were the last to come out, and when they were going through the long hallway, Albus said, “Lily won you over, eh? Can’t say no to her when she makes those eyes at you. She’s the darling spoiled baby of the family, after all.”

Scorpius nodded, understanding fully on how it’s like to be the spoiled child of the family. “I was like that. My parents spoiled me.”

“At least you don’t act horrid like that Alston McLaggen. I’ve overheard James and Teddy talking about how they overheard that even McLaggen’s father acted like his son when he was young.” Albus made a face when he said their snotty classmate’s name.

Grinning, Scorpius said, “Well, comparing me to him is like comparing mudpies and chocolate mousse!”

“Yeah, only you’re the better one. Though I don’t think you’d be any tastier than McLaggen!”

Laughing, the two friends went outside and joined in another round of the game, with Scorpius being it first.

Part II
September 1939

Dear Mutter and Vater,

I miss and love you two and cannot wait until you two arrive here. The Potter’s place is nice, and I am having a lot of fun here, but it is still not as great as being with you both. It seems like forever since I have seen you. I almost feel like you will never make it, but I know that you two will do whatever you can to get here. Until then, I will try my best not to be sad since I know that you don’t like it when I am.

Since I last wrote you, I have been spending more time with Albus, his cousins, and their family friends. Lorcan and Lysander are a bit strange — they look identical and tend to speak at the same time — but they are not as weird as their father or mother. Hugo has a weird bug collection, and Rose is a bit bossy and a know-it-all. Louis’ sisters have been around, too, but they keep to themselves doing womanly activites. I think Victoire, the older one, likes Teddy, but he doesn’t give her too much attention.

Albus and I have been reading some of his books together. I have read some parts by myself, but my English isn’t perfect enough yet, so I usually have to ask Albus for help. Lord Potter has some German books, too, and sometimes I read them, but not often since he doesn’t have many I find interesting.

School started a few days ago. It is just the same as before. Albus and I have most classes together, though not all. Luckily all the classes he isn’t in Louis is, so I am not all by myself. Hugo and the twins now have lunch with us, which I find a bit odd since I am used to it just being me, Albus, and Louis, but the company is still good so I don’t mind.

I don’t have much else to say. I love and miss you both. I said it earlier, but I want to make sure you know.

Wish you were here,
Scorpius

He set his pen down after he finished the last word. He read over it, making sure it was all correct before he sealed it up in an envelope. He looked at the date of the letter, Sunday, September 3, 1939. Once done, he headed downstairs and found Clyde.

“Please mail this for me, Clyde.”

“Will do, young master.” Clyde bowed and took his leave with the letter.

When Clyde was out of sight, Scorpius decided to find Albus, but Lord Potter approached him instead.

“Scorpius? Would you care to join me for some tea? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Of course, Lord Potter.” While he followed the master of the house to the tea room, he quickly checked over himself, making sure nothing on him stood out of place. It wasn’t long when he sat in a comfortable armchair and had a warm cup in his tea. As he took a sip, he waited patiently for him to talk.

Lord Potter cleared his throat and hesitated before saying, “As you know . . . Germany invaded Poland two days ago. We, the British, have officially declared war on them about an hour or so ago.”

“Ah,” Scorpius set his cup down and watched how he clenched his hands in his lap. He knew about the invasion. Everyone did. A strange part of him felt ashamed, like he was the one who started the invasion, which made no sense, but to him he still considered himself German, despite how the Nazis had stripped him and his family of their citizenship to stateless Jews.

“Yes,” Lord Potter continued, “unfortunately, war has begun. And as much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news . . . I think your parents coming here now will be extremely difficult. Not only that, but I think them leaving Germany alone will be difficult.”

“I . . . ” Scorpius tried to take in the news as well as he could. To be honest, when he had heard about the invasion two days ago, deep inside of him, he knew that once war was officially declared, things were to go in an entirely different direction for his parents.

Scorpius looked up when he heard a sigh from him. “Look, I never make a promise I cannot keep, but I will try my best, will try everything that I have, to bring them here.”

As much as Scorpius wanted his parents right now, he thought of something else instead. “Do . . . do you still want me to stay here?”

He saw that his question threw the man off the course, for Lord Potter sat there blinking, his bespectacled green eye giving off a confused look. “What do you mean? Of course you will stay here!”

“But . . . won’t my stay here be dangerous?”

He looked at the frown on the older man’s face. “I don’t understand.”

“I mean . . . I am a German Jew. That means, I am the enemy.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Scorpius saw Lord Potter for who he really was. The man absolutely emanated sheer power, anger, and sadness towards him, and Scorpius had to force himself not to cower under that look.

“Scorpius Malfoy. Yes, you are Jewish. Yes, you are German. But that does not mean you are the enemy!” Lord Potter’s face softened as he continued his next statement. “In this world, there are good Germans and bad Germans. Good Jews and bad Jews. Good British and bad British. I’ve been taught to judge others based on their social backgrounds and classes, their religious and political affiliations, and other factors that divides society up into many factions. However, when I was in the Great War, I discovered the truth of our world. We, regardless of who we are, are all human, the same species, and since then I’ve decided that if I cannot judge people based on their personality and their inner selves, then I have no right to even judge myself.”

This short speech was perhaps the most eloquently delivered set of words he had heard in his short life. As he took in the man’s words and processed them, he realised that Lord Potter was right. Even if he himself would always feel a bit of that shame for his origins, he shouldn’t judge others like the way anti-Semitic people judged him.

The realisation bought tears of gratitude to him, and as he hastily tried to blink them back or swiped at them, he felt a pair of strong, warm, and protective arms around him. He allowed himself to be hugged, and that was when he knew that Lord Potter would always be there for him. Lord Potter was not one to be disloyal to anyone without a reason.

A door slowly creaked open, and Scorpius left the embrace to see who it was. “Scorpius?” a familiar voice asked before walking into the room. “I have been looking for you everywhere. I was –” Albus then paused when he noticed the tears going down Scorpius’ face. “What is wrong?”

Lord Potter, who was standing next to Scorpius’ seat, looked to his son with a grim expression. “I just told him some dire news.”

“What?”

“Britain has declared war on Germany, and that means that it will be longer than expected until Scorpius’ parents can make it here or even out of the country.”

Albus looked shocked and his eyes went back and forth between his father and his friend before finally just settling on Scorpius. “I am sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault,” he replied with an attempt at a smile.

“I am going to go find Teddy and James now,” Lord Potter spoke up. “You two feel free to ask Loretta to fetch anything you want from the kitchen.”

The boys nodded and he took his leave. Once Lord Potter was out of the room, Albus moved to the chair where Scorpius sat and sat on its arm. “How are you feeling?” he asked with real concern evident in his eyes.

“A mixture of things,” Scorpius replied as he looked at his lap glumly. “Confused as to why all of this happened. Sad that I do not know when my parents will be able to be here. Scared that they aren’t safe and that I may not be, whether now or further in the future. I don’t know what to do or what to expect.”

For the second time, Scorpius felt arms wrapped around him. These were not as strong or large, but just as warm and comforting. He felt Albus’ head on his, and he felt touched when Albus’ hands rubbed his back gently, his way of trying to placate Scorpius, obviously.

“Thank you,” Scorpius spoke as tears quietly made their way down his face again. “I am glad I was brought here to such caring people.”

Albus offered him a comforting smile and brushed a few tears off of his face. “And I am happy you are here, too.”

December 1939

Already a year had passed since he came here. He glumly looked at the 25-word Red Cross postcard. With the war blazing on, this little card filled with a generic “we miss you, we will be there soon” message were the only thing his parents were allowed to send now. And Scorpius, too, was only allowed to send a similar card telling him that he was fine and that he missed them.

He learned that a lot can happen in a year, and things changing drastically in three months shouldn’t be surprising.

The Potter household now lacked two members: Teddy and James. As soon as the war’s declaration came to be known everywhere, both young men decided to enlist in the Royal Air Force. For some reason, Scorpius envied them. He wanted to do something for his adopted country, but at the age of twelve, what could he do?

He, Albus, and Lily still attended school, but now their routines consisted of air raid exercises. Loud sirens blaring across their town became a usual occurrence. Along with the unwelcome blast of ear-shattering sounds, they quickly became a master at putting on their gas masks in a matter of seconds.

Things they took for granted became hard to find as the rationing system was put into place. They weren’t starving by any means, no, but any luxury such as chocolate and real butter all disappeared as they went to the war effort.

But Scorpius didn’t care about that. He knew he was lucky enough to have a place over his head and people who will protect and care for him. He only wanted his parents to join him. Then things would be finally fine.

However, he could not deny that his friendship with Albus and Lily were growing, and he also began to see Lord Potter as another father figure. Last year he felt like an outsider intruding on a foreign family. Now? He didn’t feel that self-induced separation from them. Now that his English skills were practically on a native-speaker’s level, that erased any language barrier between him and the people around him.

In fact, now he was at the top of his class again — even beating Albus — but the two of them didn’t compete against each other. Albus seemed content to let Scorpius be the leader in their class.

“Scorpius!” Albus’ call broke his daydreaming. “Teddy and James are here! Those two are on leave and are here on a surprise visit! Come on down!”

“Coming!” Scorpius yelled in reply and laid the card down on the desk before hurrying down the staircase.

“Lily, Teddy isn’t a playground for you the climb all over,” he heard Lord Potter lightly scold the girl as he made his way down the flight of stairs.

“It’s okay,” Teddy chuckled and rustled the little girl’s hair, earning him a giggle.

“I missed you so much, Ted Ted!” she exclaimed as she hugged his neck.

“Missed you too, Lily-kins,” he replied with a smile before noticing Scorpius who was now at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey there, Scor!”

Scorpius’ lips formed a big smile. “Welcome back, Teddy! Where is James?”

“Stuffing his face,” Albus laughed from his spot next to his father.

“He is grabbing a sandwich,” Lord Potter added and gave his youngest son a stern look. “Could you two boys help carry up their bags?”

“All right!” They both replied in unison and grabbed a bag each from the line of luggage by the door.

“Thank you,” Teddy smiled as he picked up two suitcases. “Since you two are helping, and James is pigging out instead, how about we make him take us all to the cinema later?”

With Lord Potter heading towards the library with Lily, the two boys nodded with grins and rushed up the stairway, Teddy laughing to himself as he followed behind them.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the rooms, which were connected by a joint bathroom. They entered James’ room first, which was much like Scorpius’ room except the bed was covered in crimson material instead of the evergreen he was accustomed to in his own room. He had never been in the room before, since the older boys’ rooms were off limits, so his eyes took note of all the small things decorating the room; the baseball and glove on the desk, the old calendar of automobiles still hanging on the wall, and the forgotten candy wrappers on the nightstand.

Teddy laid a suitcase down on the bed, and Albus put the bag he had been carrying down with it. They then made way for the other door, the one leading to the linking bathroom, and moved on to the other room. This time, the bed sheets had teal and gold colouring scheme, the desk had books upon it, the nightstand clear of all but a lamp, and only a hole in the wall where a calendar once was.

“Scor?” Albus called, and Scorpius snapped out of observances before setting down the bag he was holding next to Teddy’s suitcase.

“Thanks again, you two,” Teddy smiled. “Now, how about you both go track down James and tell him to come up here and unpack so that way we can take you kids out. Oh, tell Lily to get ready and inform Lord Potter we are kidnapping you.”

“All right,” Albus replied and grabbed Scorpius by the wrist, dragging him along back downstairs.

Scorpius and Albus both ran down to tell James Teddy’s message, and then they went to tell Lord Potter and Lily their plan. When they came out of the library, they went back to their rooms to grab their coats, scarves, gloves, and hats. They met back at the bottom of the staircase, meeting Lily who was all dressed up in her winter clothing with a big smile.

“I’m so glad Teddy and James are back!” Lily said, clapping her hands in happiness.

The three of them chattered about what the film they were to see at the cinema, and after a while, Scorpius realised that Teddy and James were taking a long time.

“What’s taking them so long?” Albus asked out loud.

“Don’t know. Maybe they had more to unpack than we thought,” Scorpius said, shrugging his thin shoulders.

“Let’s go get them!” And before he could say otherwise, Albus dashed up the stairs.

Quickly, he turned to Lily. “Wait here, okay?” Without hearing her response, he followed Albus up the stairs, and when he reached the hallway that housed Teddy’s and James’ rooms, he stopped. Albus was standing in front of the partially opened door, sporting an astonished expression.

Quietly, Scorpius tip-toed to where Albus stood, and he looked in through the opening. What he saw immediately made his mouth dry.

He watched the following scene unfold in front of him. Teddy was on his back on the large bed, and James was on top of him. Kissing Teddy deeply on the mouth, to which Teddy responded back but a minute or so later, he broke it.

“James, we can’t do this now. The children are waiting!” Teddy tried to push James off of him, but James didn’t budge.

“They can wait. I can’t. We’ve hadn’t had any moments together when we were on duty.”

“But . . . !”

“And besides,” James leaned down to kiss Teddy’s pale neck while his hand disappeared between them. “You want it just as much as I do.”

At first Scorpius thought Teddy was in pain since he arched off the bed with a soft cry, but that sound quickly turned into a moan.

“James . . . ” Teddy groaned and ran a hand through the other man’s hair.

A hand then grabbed Scorpius’ wrist, and he heard Albus whisper, “I think we should go.” He could only nod as his mind tried to comprehend what he had just seen.

Albus led him back down the hall and down the staircase silently, gently dragging him along by the wrist. Scorpius kept trying to figure out what had gone on in the bedroom. He knew what they were doing, but he couldn’t understand why. That was the things he heard boys and girls do together. Both James and Teddy were both male and that wasn’t normal. Was it?

When they reached the bottom of the stairway, they saw Lily standing patiently and swinging her hips. “Lily,” Albus began. “They will be down in a little bit. How about you go to the kitchen and have a light snack?”

“Mmmkay,” she responded absent-mindedly and skipped off, leaving the two of them to sit alone together on the last step of the stairs, looking off into space.

It was quiet for a minute or so before Albus finally spoke again. “That was . . . ”

“Yeah,” Scorpius replied softly.

“I guess . . . they are a couple?”

He nodded. “I suppose so.”

“Do you think it’s weird?” Albus asked. “Two men?”

“I . . . ” Scorpius paused as he tried to think through his answer. “I don’t know. I always thought it was just . . . between a man and a woman. The idea of two men . . . ”

“Yeah.”

Scorpius looked at Albus’ faraway expression. “Actually, I do recall hearing a conversation about this between my father and one of his friends. Apparently one of their friends . . . must be one of those men because Berlin used to be . . . ” The word Scorpius looked for was at the tip of his tongue. He knew it in German, but not in English.

“What?”

“What’s the opposite of conservative?”

“Liberal?”

“Yes! That’s the word.” Scorpius tried to recall that part of Berlin’s history, but since it was never commonly discussed, he was having trouble remembering the little information. “However, the Nazis didn’t like it.”

As both of them silently sat together, a few minutes of solace passed between them before Albus said, “Well, at least this explains one thing.”

“Explains what?”

A slow grin came onto his face. “That would explain why Teddy’s not responding to Victoire’s advances.”

Even though this statement wasn’t a hilarious one, both boys started to laugh. Perhaps it was the way Albus said it, with that quirky grin, or perhaps they were both unleashing their nerves. Whatever it was, both of them laughed loudly, and it drew Lily, James, and Teddy to them.

“What’s so funny?” James asked bemusedly.

“Is it a new joke?” Lily wondered, jumping up down while holding hands with Teddy and James.

Albus and Scorpius shared a conspiratorial look with each other and chimed at the same time. “It’s nothing!”

“If it’s nothing, then can it! Let’s go to the cinema.” With that said, James led them all out on their little escapade.

August 1940

It had been almost a year since the war started. A school year had come and went, his friends there to talk him through any worries. Of course, their consoling words slowly comforted him less and less as the Red Cross postcards from his parents were taking longer to arrive. As of the first week of August, it had been over three months since he last received a postcard, and he became almost certain he wasn’t getting any more.

“Mutter, Vater,” Scorpius whispered as he looked through the previous postcards and letters he kept in an old box. A tear fell down his face and he quickly wiped it away.

Knock, knock. He set the letters down and looked up. “Ja?”

“It’s Albus,” a voice answered. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” he replied, putting the letters back in the box and sliding it under his bed as Albus entered the room.

“How are you doing?” his friend asked just in front of the doorway, genuine concern apparent in his eyes.

“Fi–,” Scorpius began, but stopped himself, frowning slightly. He knew that Albus wouldn’t buy into a “fine”. He had become closer to him since his first arrival. They spent most of their time together and shared everything. Albus would see through the lie, so he realised he shouldn’t even attempt. “I miss them.”

Albus walked silently towards the bed and Scorpius scooted over to give him room to sit beside him. He wrapped a hand around his sorrowful friend’s shoulder. “I wish I could do something to help.”

“It’s okay,” Scorpius replied and leaned into Albus’ arm. “I just want a postcard to arrive so I can stop worrying.” He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes. “I am starting to think they won’t ever write again. What if they are dead?” He looked up at Albus with watery eyes, almost as if his friend would have an answer.

Albus brushed his hand through Scorpius’ hair gently. “I am sure they are okay.”

“Yes . . . ” Scorpius swiped at his eyes and closed them when they were dry. “I want to believe that, but unless I get something from them . . . even a telegram or something . . . ”

He felt Albus’ arms around his shoulders tightened. “Never stop believing, Scor. Don’t give up.”

Something in Albus’ voice comforted him. Maybe it was the determination laced through those words. Or maybe it was that arm around his shoulder, its warmth seeping through his clothing. Whatever it was, Scorpius rested his head on Albus’ shoulders and allowed his arms to wrap around the other’s waist.

They sat there like that in silence, exchanging no words until Albus soft voice said, “Scor?”

“Hm?” Scorpius lifted his head slightly and looked up at his friend’s face.

“I–I will always be here for you, okay?” Albus said, his eyes stern, yet gentle.

He gave a light smile in reply. “I know.”

“And–” the other boy started, but stopped.

Scorpius scrunched his forehead and asked, “And what?”

Albus opened and closed his mouth, as if he were about to say something but at the last minute decided against it.

“Is something wrong?” Scorpius asked in unease.

Albus took a deep breath and moved his free hand to brush against the side of Scorpius’ face, from his cheek to his chin. Scorpius could only look at him with confusion before Albus leaned in and their lips met.

It took a few seconds for the realisation to hit Scorpius. Albus was kissing him, Albus’ lips were on his, and Albus’ lips were incredibly warm and soft.

And he found himself feeling nothing of disgust. Instead, he felt like this was something they should have done a long time ago, as strange as that sounded in his head. At the same time, though, he couldn’t help but think something was a bit wrong with this turn of event.

Gently, he pressed his free hand against Albus’ chest and pushed him. He looked over the boy with a dazed expression, but before he could say anything, Albus beat him to it.

“I–I’m sorry!” Blushing, Albus let go of Scorpius and jumped off the bed. “I don’t know what came over me! Look! I know you’re upset! And it’s my fault! I’ll . . . I’ll just go now!”

Scorpius took in Albus’ frightened and embarrassed demeanour. Obviously Albus’ interpreted his actions as a really big rejection. While he wasn’t exactly rejecting Albus, he didn’t really want to enforce this new thing too quickly either. So Scorpius reached out to grab Albus’ wrist, in an effort to calm his friend. “Wait!”

Albus halted and gave him a wide-eyed stare.

“Al . . . ” Scorpius took a deep breath. “I’m not upset.”

Now, Albus sported a bewildered look. “What? You should be! I mean . . . ”

“I’m not upset,” Scorpius repeated, tugging Albus back down onto the bed. “Honestly.”

“But I kissed you! Without asking for your permission!” Albus exclaimed, sitting back on the bed hard. “You should have hit me or something!”

Scorpius raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Do you really want me to punch you?”

“No.” Albus gave a sheepish look. “Not really. But . . . I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yes, perhaps you shouldn’t have. Isn’t this what most would call ‘taking advantage of the weak’?” Scorpius said this in a dry manner. He really wasn’t that upset or anything, but he saw this as a perfect opportunity to tease Albus, and he certainly wasn’t going to give that up!

Again, a nice red blush stained Albus’ cheeks as he apologised again. “I’m really sorry, Scor! Please don’t hate me.”

“Albus,” Scorpius sighed. “I am not going to hate you. I could never hate you.” He wisely decided to keep his secret about how he hated the Potters at the beginning. He didn’t need to really upset Albus any further!

Albus smiled softly before he stared off at a random wall. “So,” he began timidly. “What did you think of it?”

“The kiss?” Scorpius asked and Albus nodded. “I . . . I am not sure. I enjoyed it and it felt right in a way, but it was also a bit strange. It was sudden and . . . I think it shocked me a bit. I didn’t hate it, though.”

Albus turned his gaze towards Scorpius. “Really?”

“I might even go as far as to say you can kiss me again,” he answered with a smirk. “But I don’t want to just jump into anything. I mean, you haven’t even told me your feelings. Not that I don’t get the idea, but it would be nice to hear them.” He bit his lip nervously and looked at Albus hopefully. “If you don’t mind.”

Albus nodded and smiled, his green eyes staring into the blue of Scorpius’. “I–I really like you,” he began. “I am not sure when I started to, but it happened. I used to try to deny it, but after catching Teddy and James that one time, I thought that maybe there was a chance that you could like me, too.”

“I see.” Scorpius took a deep breath before he went on. “I, to be honest, haven’t really thought about it. I mean, I didn’t have any reason to think so. But now that it’s there in front of me . . . I could like you to. I am not adverse to idea.”

“As long as you’re comfortable and fine with it, I won’t do anything you don’t want.” Albus slowly reached out to grab one of Scorpius’ hands, and he laced their fingers together. “I promise you that.”

“Will you . . . ” He was about ask Albus to kiss him again, but there was a loud knock on the door that cut him off.

“Scorpius? Albus? Are you two in there?” It was Lily.

The two of them quickly exchanged a look. “We’ll discuss this more later,” Albus whispered. Letting go of Scorpius’ hand, he went to open the door.

He remained on the bed, clutching the hand Albus held in his other one. The former felt warm, tingly feelings at his fingertips. As he watched the two siblings talked, he smiled to himself as he decided that these new feelings, these new turn of events needed to be taken in slowly. Instinctively, he knew it was something to not rush headstrong into.

June 1941

“We have but one aim and one single, irrevocable purpose. We are resolved to destroy Hitler and every vestige of the Nazi regime. From this nothing will turn us — nothing. We will never parley, we will never negotiate with Hitler or any of his gang. We shall fight him by land, we shall fight him by sea, we shall fight him in the air, until, with God’s help, we have rid the earth of his shadow and liberated its people from his yoke. Any man or state who fights on against Nazidom will have our aid. Any man or state who marches with Hitler is our foe . . . ”

Scorpius turned off the radio he recently had placed in his room, not interested in hearing anymore of Churchill’s broadcast about promising British assistance to the Soviet Union. All news of the war seemed to mush together in his mind; Germany invaded and or attacked such-and-such country, a country joined forces with the Allied powers or the Axis, one nation declared war on another, or Hitler said or did this and this. He’d much rather have a postcard from his parents saying they were okay rather than listening to depressing news that he could do nothing about. Sometimes he just wished he could join the Royal Air Force like Teddy and James and just do something to help.

“Hey, Scor!” Albus’ voice called from down the hall.

Scorpius approached the open doorway and popped his head out. “Yes?”

“They are playing Target for Tonight at the cinema,” Albus answered as he approached Scorpius. “You know that documentary about the RAF?”

“Oh,” he said with interest.

“I take it you want to go?” Albus smirked.

“Of course!” Scorpius exclaimed. “Just need to put my shoes on.”

He then moved back fully into his room and instantly began searching for his footwear, not noticing Albus’ entry until he was standing again, having just picked up his shoes, felt arms wrap around his waist, and the other boy’s chin on his shoulder. He tensed slightly at first, shocked by the sudden contact, before relaxing into the hold.

“You know, I can’t exactly put on my shoes if you are holding me like that.”

Instead of letting go, like Scorpius had expected him to do, Albus started walking him backwards before sitting down, with him placed on his lap, and moving his lips to Scorpius’ ear. “Better?”

“Yes, though, it would be odd explaining why I am in your lap if anyone walks in.”

“They are all busy,” Albus replied. “And if they were to come upstairs, we would hear them.”

Scorpius sighed and didn’t argue the logic, instead sliding his first shoe on his foot and tying it up. Once he was done putting them on, he attempted to stand up, but Albus only held him tighter.

“I thought we were going to go to the cinema?” he asked, slightly annoyed.

Albus chuckled lightly. “But I like holding you like this.”

“Albus!” Scorpius tried to unclasp the hands in middle of his torso. “The cinema was your idea! Or are you suffering from amnesia all of the sudden?”

He didn’t hear any answer from Albus. Instead, he felt Albus nuzzling into that crook between his neck and his shoulder. Feeling the warm breath ghosting against his skin, he involuntarily shivered and instinctively tilted his head sideways to give Albus more room. This simple gesture gave Albus more encouragement since he began to kiss the skin there, and he began to trail upward, nipping the ear’s outer shell and then planting soft kisses on Scorpius’ cheeks.

“Al . . . ” His words were cut off when he felt Albus’ soft lips on his own. As he relaxed into the kiss, he felt like his entire body burned from the inner fire inside of him. He knew that it was impossible for his body to melt from the heat inside, but he briefly wondered if it was perhaps possible.

When he felt Albus’ tongue tracing his lips, he startled and parted his lips. This allowed Albus’ tongue to enter into his mouth, and he had to wonder if this was even natural? Kissing with tongues inside each other’s mouth? He never really saw anybody kiss like that before. While these thoughts ran into his head, he briefly moved his tongue, making it bump and meet Albus’, and it felt strangely good. He did it again — this time he slipped his into Albus’ mouth, and it left him feeling breathless, as well as tasting the tea and biscuit they had earlier along with Albus’ own “flavour”.

It was Albus who broke the kiss first. Scorpius dazedly looked at his friend’s face, which was all flushed. He figured that he was flushed as well. Both of them panted from their excursion mere seconds ago.

“That was . . . ” Scorpius trailed off as he shifted his weight on Albus’ lap. That was when he felt something beneath him, and when Albus’ let out a soft gasp followed by a moan, he knew just what was ailing his friend.

“I . . . let me get off, Al. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You aren’t . . . hurting me,” Albus forced out, but Scorpius didn’t listen.

He managed to stand up and escape Albus’ hold. “There,” Scorpius began, turned to his friend. “Now, I won’t be hurting you anymore.”

Scorpius then sat beside him, Albus shaking his head in disbelief. “You are not the brightest , despite being at the top of our class, are you?”

“Hmm?” Scorpius questioned with a furrowed brow.

Albus let out a deep breath and turned to him. “You weren’t hurting me,” he replied, his gaze firm.

“But you sounded–”

“That wasn’t out of pain,” He attempted to explain vaguely, obviously hoping Scorpius would catch on.

“But then why–” He stopped when he suddenly remembered that one Christmas almost two years ago, when he and Albus had caught Teddy and James. Just now, Albus’ moan of “pain” was very similar to the one he had heard Teddy release in a moment of intimacy. Scorpius’ eyes widened with realisation. “Oh . . . ”

“I take it you understand,” Albus said before moving in to kiss him again.

Scorpius felt lips on his for the second time that day, and he impulsively closed his eyes and kissed back, losing any track of thought he once had. The kissed deepened like before, Albus’ tongue slowly entering his mouth and his own making its way into Albus’. He then felt a hand on the nape of his neck and the weight of the other boy guiding him to a lying position on the bed. Another hand made its way under his shirt, and he unconsciously leaned into the touch. He wanted to ask what Albus was doing, but that would require stopping the kiss which seemed like a painstaking decision to make at that moment.

As Albus explored his torso, he felt fingers on one of his nipples, arching into more of those touches. He was surprised that touching there could stimulate such pleasures, but he didn’t question it as he wrapped his arms around Albus’ waist and ran his hands all over the clothed back.

Their activities continued, and this soon had an effect on his body. The warmth he had felt earlier were now all pooled in the middle of his body. The stirring in his belly soon made something else of his come alive, and he automatically shifted his hips up to meet one of Albus’ legs. When he did that, his stomach met a similar happening on Albus, and both of them let out a soft moan of pleasure at the contact.

That also broke their kiss, and the two of them stared at each other with heated expressions.

“That was . . . ” Scorpius licked his swollen lips.

“Brilliant. Just absolutely brilliant.” Albus gave a soft smile. “But perhaps . . . let’s not rush this.”

Scorpius agreed. While a large part of him wanted to quickly explore this new territory, his rational side kicked in and told him to take this slow, to savour and pleasure it like he’s trying a new dish instead of shoving it into him like a glutton. “Now, let’s go to that cinema.”

Part III
August 1942

“What are you reading?”

Scorpius looked up and saw Albus coming towards him. Deciding that it was a beautiful summer day, Scorpius decided to spend it by reading some new books under this big tree in the wooded area of the Potters’ back lawn.

“I . . . ” Scorpius blushed at Albus’ question, as he discreetly tried to hide the book. “Nothing. Just some classics.”

“What’s with that reaction?”

“Er,” Scorpius paused, but it was in that moment of hesitancy did Albus manage to take the book out of his hand.

“Hmm.” Albus stood up and began to flip through the pages of the book.

“Albus! Give it back!” Scorpius tried to snatch the book, but to no avail.

“What’s this? Achilles and Patroclus? A book that explores . . . ” Now it was Albus’ turn to blush as he skimmed through the words. “Where’d you find this?”

“In . . . Lord Longbottom’s estate. He had a bunch of books like these, and he said I could borrow whatever was in his library.”

“I . . . see.” Albus sat on the ground, his eyes never leaving the book. “This is quite interesting. I mean, we did briefly study about the two when we learned about The Iliad, but this looks like it adds a whole new angle to their ‘friendship’.”

Scorpius bit his lip nervously. “Yes, it examines the possibility that they were more than just war buddies.”

“Like Teddy and James,” Albus mused as his fingers turned a page and something caught his eyes that caused him to scrunch his face in a look of puzzlement.

Scorpius tilted his head to the side in curiosity. “Al?”

“Hmm?” Albus responded and looked up from the book.

“You looked confused.”

“Oh,” he sounded in reply and turned back to the page. “This one line, part of it doesn’t make sense to me. It’s a quote from the original poem.”

“Which one is it?” Scorpius asked as he leaned in to look.

Albus gave a look of uncertainty before answering, “It reads, ‘You had no consideration for my pure reverence of your thighs, ungrateful after all our frequent kisses.’ I get the last part, but I don’t understand the ‘reverence of your thighs’ part.”

Scorpius’ face flushed for the second time that afternoon. “It . . . ” He began hesitantly. “It means . . . Achilles was in . . . admiration . . . of Patroclus’ thighs.”

“I get that, but why would he mention his admiration for them or even admire them specifically?” Albus asked as Scorpius seemed to fidget next to him. “Scor?”

“Well, in Greece, certain men would . . . ” Scorpius trailed off as his face grew redder.

“They would what?” Albus pushed.

“For . . . fornicate . . . with another man . . . between their thighs . . . ”

Albus made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth as the words registered in his mind. He then went on to ask, “Men do that?”

“So it seems,” Scorpius replied timidly.

Scorpius watched Albus set the book down. The two of them sat in silence for what seemed like hours but in reality only a few minutes.

“We . . . should we try it? I mean, all we’ve done so far was kissing . . . ”

Scorpius heard the slight catch in Albus’ voice, and for some reason that warmed him. Probably because he could tell that Albus was a bit insecure, despite usually having enough confidence for the two of them.

As Scorpius racked his brains for a neutral answer — he didn’t want to sound against it or entirely excited for this new prospect — Albus spoke again. “Never mind. Bad idea. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Al–”

“I mean, we’re no Grecian or Shakespearean actors! We don’t need to live out the role of Achilles and Patroclus!”

“Al–”

“Sometimes I wonder why I don’t think before I speak. I mean, I’m not as bad as James or anything, but the few times I do forget, I always seem to muck–”

“Albus Severus Potter!” Scorpius achieved something he never thought he’d able to follow. His father had this skill — apparently he learned it from a former professor or something — where he was able to hiss out a name, but it actually sounded deadlier and louder than expected. Now, he had done it, and he was giving Albus an exasperated look.

“May I speak?”

Albus bobbed his head up and down.

“In an answer to your suggestion . . . ” he paused briefly. “If we ever did take that route, I would not be against it.”

Whatever answer Albus expected must not had been what Scorpius just said, if Albus’ opened mouth were any indicator.

“However, we will take the necessary precautions — if there are any.”

“Right. Of course. Makes sense.”

Scorpius ducked his head to hide a smile. When flustered, Albus really did seem to lose his normal mental capabilities and was only capable of speaking in fragments.

“And, of course, we will not rush this as usual.”

“No, of course not. The fact that we’ve only been kissing for the past year proves how slow we are taking this,” Albus responded dryly.

Scorpius was about to point out that it had almost been two years, but quickly decided against it. Albus was obviously displeased with his wanting to take things slow and saying that would probably worsen the situation, whatever it was exactly.

“Sometimes I wonder if you even like me as much as I like you,” Albus muttered.

His eyes opened wide in disbelief of the words. “What makes you think that I like you any less?” he asked in heated confusion.

“You always want to take things slow! And your version of slow is just kissing and nothing more. I thought after that one incident last year that maybe, just maybe, we would start venturing further, but no!”

Scorpius defensively narrowed his eyes. “You are the one who said not to rush it.”

“I didn’t mean not ever doing it again!” Albus roared before taking a deep breath and rubbing his fingers against his temples, as if to cool himself down. “It just seems that I am the only wanting to do more.”

“I–” Scorpius began, opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out what he should say.

“You haven’t fought back,” Albus continued on, not aware of Scorpius’ mental fight for words. “But maybe you . . . I don’t know. Maybe you really aren’t okay with things, despite what you say.”

Scorpius couldn’t believe what Albus was saying. What would make him such a thing? He should know better than that! If Scorpius wasn’t okay with it, he would have said so.

Before Albus could say more, Scorpius snatched the book from his hands and wacked him with it in a fit of fury. “Ow!” Albus cried. “What was that for?!”

“Because you are an idiot!” Scorpius screamed, his eyes watering a bit. He then calmed down and looked off towards nothing particular. “I–I think I love you.”

“Love . . . me?” Albus asked, almost as if the words Scorpius had said were in German and unknown to him.

Scorpius nodded slowly. “Yes. At least, I think so. That is why I want to take things slow.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I have seen what happens to other . . . lovers,” Scorpius attempted to explain. “Louis has been with a bunch of girls before, and with each of them, he rushes things and they always separate within a month; same with Hugo, Rose, Victoire, Dominique, Lorcan, Lysander, and everyone else.” He bit his lip nervously again before adding, “I don’t want to make a wrong turn and lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” Albus said tenderly as he reached to stroke Scorpius’ cheek.

“How do you know?” Scorpius asked desperately. “You may come to your senses and decide that another guy isn’t worth your time and fall for a girl. I mean we aren’t even supposed to be together. If we ever got caught . . . ”

Scorpius heard a sigh from Albus, and next thing he knew, he was being pulled into a warm embrace. He rested his head on Albus’ chest, where he could hear and feel the rhythmic beating from his heart. That soothed him as he just stayed like that.

“I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you like this. I understand how you feel about not wanting to rush this. You’re right. And you’re also right about Louis and the others. But I’m not like them. I . . . I cannot see myself with a girl, ever.”
“That’s what you say now,” Scorpius said softly into Albus’ chest, “but in the future . . . ”

“You know there’s a saying in my family — a saying that states that Potter men are truly loyal. Once they find the love of their life, they stay with that person until the day they die or their spouse die. According to my father, he jokes that an ancestor in the Dark Ages was cursed by a witch who got spurned. Since then, that curse lies in the blood of every Potter men out there.”

Another round of silence passed between them until Albus broke it softly with, “And if that curse is true, I think you are the one who was meant to be the love of my life. I love you, too, Scorpius Malfoy.”

Scorpius looked up and met Albus’ green eyes. In their depths, he saw a combination of sincerity, gentleness, and love. That was enough proof for him. He leaned upwards and kissed Albus deeply. Tired of using words, he decided to convey all his emotions and feelings into actions instead.

November 1942

Scorpius looked at himself in the body-length mirror on a wall of his room. It was All Saints’ Day, and due to a party Lord Potter was holding at his home, he was instructed to wear a costume. He was clothed in the attire of a 19th century aristocrat. It had seemed like a good choice at the time, but now he regretted the decision to wear these tight pants. Or maybe they should be called stockings considering how they were practically attached to him like second skin.

“Aren’t we looking magnificent?”

He turned towards the doorway and spotted Albus, who had stealthily entered the room unbeknownst to Scorpius. He was wearing a strange costume that made him question his friend’s — or rather lover’s — sanity.

“And you look rather . . . odd,” Scorpius replied with a small smile.

Albus chuckled. “What, you don’t like my goat legs?”

“Only you would find dressing as Puck a good choice of costume.”

“I find that Puck and I are quite alike,” Albus replied. “Clever and mischievous.”

Scorpius shook his head. “You are more of a trottel.”

“A what?”

“It is German for a few things you categorise as,” Scorpius began with a smirk. “A dork, an idiot, and a twat.”

Albus gave him a mock glare. “I always shower you with compliments and all I get are insults?”

“Yep,” he grinned. “It is the only way to deflate that ego of yours.”

“Ouch,” Albus said as he gripped his chest with false pain. “That hurt.”

“It’s the truth, though,” Scorpius replied with a laugh.

“Now, who’s the twat?”

Scorpius stuck his tongue out jokingly before moving towards the bed. He grabbed the mask that went with his costume and placed it on his face. “How do I look?”

“So wonderful that I think that we should skip the party altogether and spend it up here doing something lovers do,” Albus answered as he moved his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

He gave him a stern look. “We are going.”

“I don’t want to,” Albus pouted. “It won’t be as much fun.”

“Tough luck.” Scorpius shrugged before pushing Albus out the door. “We have to, so there is no use complaining.”

“Fine,” he groaned and walked with him through the hall, downstairs, and into the backyard.

They walked out into the yard, the sun just about to be fully set. Carved and lit-up pumpkins decorated the area atop of the small fence lines, adding a glowing effect to the assortment of flowers and walkway below them. People were huddled in groups socialising and kids ran around playing various children games.

“Al! Scor!” a strangely dark-cloaked figure with slicked back hair screamed out to them.

It took Scorpius a moment to realise it was Louis and promptly smiled in reply. “Hello.”

“What are you supposed to be?” Albus inquired with a scrunched face.

“I should ask you the same. Though, mine should be more recognisable,” Louis replied. “I am Dracula by the way. Vampire seducer of women.”

“So what you want to be but never will,” Albus smirked.

Louis narrowed his eyes. “Oh, shut it.”

Albus wore a smug look and Scorpius couldn’t help but roll his eyes in reply. The two bantered a bit more, but Scorpius didn’t pay any attention. His attention was focused on examining the landscape around him. It wasn’t much, he thought, just some social gathering for adults with a few children added in. Yes, the scenery was decorative and probably amazed many of the younger ones, but it didn’t make up for the lack of things to do. Though, there were a bunch of kids fascinated with a basin.

“Ah, the old bobbing for apple. You try to catch with just your mouth. After that, it is tradition to peel the apple and drop the peeling into the water. If it spells out a letter, they say it’s supposed to represent the name of your true love.”

“Really?” Scorpius felt intrigued by it. “Let’s try it.”

Soon, the two of them and a few others were huddled around the basin, and it wasn’t long before Scorpius found his face in the cool water. He moved around, trying to get the apple, and when he felt one bump against him, he quickly grabbed it with his teeth. Hurriedly, he pulled his face out of the water, and he saw that he was the first one to grab it from the group.

As he yanked the apple out of his mouth, Albus said, “You did it! Congratulations!”

Smiling, Scorpius said, “Thanks.” Someone handed him a knife, and he slowly started to peel the fruit.

A few minutes later, he dropped his peelings into the water. It slowly formed a letter — an “A”. All Scorpius could do was blink and stare at peelings.

It has to be a coincidence, he thought.

Coincidence or not, he felt Albus grabbing his wrist. He stood up and followed Albus to a hidden area of the garden. There, Albus grabbed his hands and squeezed them.

“It spelled an ‘A’,” Albus said quietly.

Scorpius, still a bit dazed by the peelings, only nodded at Albus’ statement.

“It has to be fate.”

“Yes.”

“I . . . ” Albus swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob. “I really do love you, you know.”

Scorpius looked into Albus’ green eyes and smiled. “And I do, too. I love you as well.”

Albus leaned closer, and Scorpius automatically closed his eyes as their lips soon met each other. The kiss evolved into a passionate meeting of mouths, and the two of them were alone in their own world.

Their hands unlinked, and Scorpius’ arms wrapped around Albus’ back as arms snaked around his hips. The kiss seemed like it would last for eternity until Albus broke it, and Scorpius had to bite back a groan of protest. Before he could question him, he felt the lips that were previously on his pressed against the skin of his jaw and slowly trailed kisses down to his neck.

Albus sucked on the skin lightly, and Scorpius released a moan. He felt Albus’ lip quirk up into a smirk against his skin before suddenly lifting his head, causing Scorpius to eye him in curiosity. Albus was wide-eyed, staring off somewhere behind Scorpius, and looked to be in shock. He turned to see what was so dreadful, the answer causing him to gulp in fear of what was about to happened.

“Dad,” Albus finally forced out.

Lord Potter, who was dressed in some odd sort of robes and carrying a stick, seemed to be just as off-kilter as the two boys. “Hello . . . boys.”

“Good evening, Lord Potter,” Scorpius managed to reply.

The boys separated themselves from their hold to stand apart and turned to Lord Potter, doing their best to act as if he had not just caught them in the intimate situation they had just been in.

“So . . . ” Albus let out, obviously uncomfortable with the silence that fell upon them all.

Lord Potter cleared his throat and replied simply, “Yes.”

“I suppose I should probably explain,” Albus said in nervousness.

The older man was quick to shake his head in protest. “No, I need no explaining. I am quite aware what of what just happened.”

Both Scorpius and Albus’ faces blushed in embarrassment. To say the least, this wasn’t exactly a position they wanted to be in and the conversation wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“I’ve already gone through that discussion with Teddy and James and would very much not want to have it again,” Lord Potter explained as he rubbed the back of his neck in unease. Scorpius and Albus exchanged a look, both unaware that the man knew of the other two before turning back to him as he let out a small laugh. “I guess this means the Potter line has come to an end.”

Scorpius’ eyes widened at that sentence. Was Lord Potter joking?

“Dad? There’s Lily, you know,” Albus said slowly.

“Yes, but she won’t be able to carry on the family name now, will she?” Scorpius looked into Lord Potter’s green eyes — the same eyes belonging to his lovers. He saw the same sparks of mischievousness that appeared in Albus’ a lot, but at the same time, he saw that they were darker. Almost as if they represented the man’s older state.

“Dad . . . ”

Lord Potter waved his hand. “All I ever wanted was my children to be happy. If this is what makes you happy, so be it. Just be careful, though. The laws do not look kindly at those who choose this path.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“You too, Scorpius. I’ve come to see you as a member of my family, and I do not want you to gain unwanted attention.”

“Yes, Lord Potter,” Scorpius quickly said.

With that, Lord Potter turned and went back to the party. Once gone, Scorpius leaned back against a tree, all feelings in his legs suddenly disappearing.

“That went better than expected,” Albus said with a sigh of relief, taking a seat next to where Scorpius now sat.

“Still embarrassing.”

“Of course,” Albus replied with a nod. “What else would you expect in that kind of situation? But at least he took it well. I always pictured him having a heart attack when he found out.”

Scorpius raised an eyebrow and asked, “You pictured him finding out?”

“Well,” he began. “He had to find out eventually. I don’t think we could keep it a secret once we turn old and are living together without wives.”

“Who says I will want to be with you when you get all wrinkly?” Scorpius teased, trying to hide the flush brought on by the fact that Albus pictured them together in the future.

“You’ll be wrinkly by then, too,” Albus smirked. “And only me and my old, droopy skin will love you.”

“How depressing,” he jokingly frowned.

Albus chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Scorpius’ shoulder and pulled him closer. “We both know you wouldn’t have it any other way. You love me too much.”

“I think I’d much rather be like those old bird ladies,” Scorpius mused. “I could leave you to live a life on some random steps, have a shawl over my shoulders as I coo and feed birds seeds.”

“Now who is being depressing?”

Scorpius merely grinned before pecking the other boy on the lips. When he leaned back, he smiled gently and said, “Honestly, I can’t picture my life without you.” He then paused and furrowed his brow before adding, “I can’t picture myself old and wrinkly either, though, so who knows. Maybe you should find the fountain of youth to be on the safe side.”

“You are an adorable git, Scorpius Malfoy.”

“And you are a handsome, goat-legged freak, Albus Potter.”

The two boys let out a small laugh and kissed once more before getting up and joining the rest of the party, both too afraid to do much more in fear of yet another intruder.

May 1943

“Scorpius?”

“Hmm?” Scorpius had been sitting in front of the lit fireplace, with a blanket covering his lap, in the sitting room. Despite it being May, the weather still felt a bit nippy, at least for him, so he found solace and warmth from his current location.

“What are you doing?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?” Albus sat next to him on the floor, slipping his hand beneath the blanket, holding their hands together, hidden from the world.

“The war.”

“Oh?”

“It’s almost four years — four long years of the Allies fighting against the Axis Powers. I wonder how much longer it will continue . . . ”

“Well, they are talking about that invasion that’s supposed to happen — don’t know when, though.”

Nodding, Scorpius closed his eyes. “Yes. And while we are safely tucked away here, thousands out there are fighting for their lives — both as soldiers and as civilians.”

“Well, we are doing our share, though. We go through rationing, we grow our Victory Garden, and we help support the war effort by doing those.”

“Yes, but . . . you know what I wish?”

“What?”

Scorpius took a deep breath and opened his eyes before answering. “I wish I could be out there, fighting on the front. And sometimes I wish Mother and Father never sent me here by myself. I think about myself here, and then I think about them still in Germany. If all that rumours about concentration camps are true . . . then maybe it would have been better for all of us to go through it together instead.”

Right after he said that, he looked over at Albus, and he was surprised to see such anger etched on his lover’s face. Not only on his face, but Albus practically emulated his displeasure all over the room. The warmth that embraced Scorpius moments earlier turned chilly.

“How can you say that?”

“I . . . I think I should have been with them, should be with them,” Scorpius attempted to explain, but Albus didn’t seem to accept it. “They are my family Albus! We are supposed to go through hardships together. I am in this luxurious home, and they could be on the run, in one of the camps, or even lying in a ditch for all I know!”

“So you think it would be better to be suffering, too? To have your parents worry about you every moment and possibly sacrificing their lives to protect you?” Albus fired questions at him, his emerald eyes aflame. “And what about all the people you met here? What about me? Do you wish you never met us?”

“Of course not!” he argued defensively as his hand tightened slightly around Albus’. “I am glad I met all of you, especially you! But those camps are supposed to be terrible, and if they are in them, I can’t help but wish I was there to support them!”

“And if you got hurt there or died? They may lose all reason for even putting up an effort to stay alive. At least with you here, they can have some hope that if they survive they will be able to see you again.”

“How do I know they will ever get out? If any of this will end?”

“It will! There are people out there fighting, like James and Teddy. They will end this war and you will see your parents again.”

“But I could help! If I were to enlist I can help the end come much sooner!”

“You mean your end? You could die out there!”

“I know! But I want to help!” He yelled. He looked away from Albus and stared off before saying softly, “You didn’t seem to be this against Teddy or James enlisting . . . ”

Albus took a free hand and placed it on the side of Scorpius’ face, turning it back towards him. “I am not in love with them,” he replied, voice tender but firm. “Not that I don’t care about them, but life without you . . . ”

“Albus . . . ” Scorpius leaned into the soft and loving hands, feeling some of his despair and confusion leaving him. “I just want to fight. I grew up as the spoiled child whose parents gave him everything he wanted. But at the same time, they taught me humility, they taught me to be strong and independent, and their teachings have not left me. I want to do something more than just plant a garden and not eat chocolate.”

Scorpius felt himself being pulled into Albus’ embrace, and he rested his head against the warm chest. Closing his eyes again, trying to force his sadness away, he breathed in deeply.

“I know. I know you want to do more. I do, too. However, don’t enlist now. Don’t lie about your age. Don’t leave me.”

Scorpius nodded and said softly. “Yes. Not yet.”

But soon, he thought to himself. One of these days, soon.

June 1944

“Albus! Scorpius!” Lily’s excited voice rang out through the huge house. “Come to the sitting room and listen to the radio! The invasion! It began!”

The boys exchanged a look of exhilaration before hurrying to the sitting room where they found the rest of the household listening keenly to the voice of John Snagge over the radio.

“ . . . Allies began the assault on the north-western face of Hitler’s European fortress,” the voice from the radio spoke as Lord Potter gestured the boys to sit next to Lily on the sofa across from him.

“First official news came just after half past nine when Supreme Headquarters of the Allied Expeditionary Force, usually called ‘Shafe’ from its initials, issued Communiqué No. 1. This said, ‘Under the command of General Eisenhower, Allied naval forces supported by strong air forces began landing Allied armies this morning on the northern coast of France’.”

This was it, the beginning of the end. The war that had started nearly five years prior was coming to an end and the Potter household couldn’t be happier. Teddy and James had been gone for so long and everyone missed them. They even missed Victoire and Dominique who had joined Queen Alexandra’s Royal Naval Nursing service a few years back. But what Scorpius was most excited about was that he may be able to see his parents again. No, there wasn’t any certainty that he would see them, or that they were even alive, but there was a chance, and the war ending made that chance even more plausible, and that was all he could hope for.

A hand intertwined with Scorpius’, and he couldn’t help but blush at the intimate touch in the not-so-private room. Albus turned to him with a warm smile, his green eyes shining with joy. He returned it and wondered silently whether the joy was for the end of the war, the return of family, or because it meant Scorpius was less likely to run off and enlist.

It had been over a year since that argument with Albus over enlisting. Scorpius did his best not to mention it, though every time they saw or heard propaganda for the war, he saw a sorrowful, yet angry expression sweep his lover’s eyes. It hurt him to see it, but he still couldn’t help but feel eager to help out. Even with the war ending, he still felt like he should. He wouldn’t tell Albus that, though. He couldn’t stand to see the pain that would bring.

“It will all be over soon,” Albus whispered, leaning and resting his head on Scorpius’. “Thank God.”

March 1945

Still in Albus’ embrace, Scorpius lifted his head up. The memories stayed strong in his mind — even the ones from 1938 still remained sharp in his mind. Things have changed so much over the years. The war changed everything and everyone.

Drawing in a breath, Scorpius looked into Albus’ emerald-coloured eyes. “Albus, I have to do this. Please. Let me go enlist.”

He felt Albus’ fingers digging into his shoulders, but he didn’t say anything. He only stared back into Albus’ eyes, his own filled with steely determination.

“I have to.”

Albus sighed and said, “Fine.”

“What?” Scorpius’ mouth dropped opened. He had expected more arguing, more pleading — not a simple acceptance.

“On one condition.”

His mouth snapped back shut. He should have known that Albus wasn’t going to make this easy. “What’s the condition?”

“You wait until we both turn eighteen this year, and we’ll join together.”

“What?!”

“You heard me just fine.”

Scorpius gave Albus his strongest glare. “No. You don’t need to do this. You don’t need to go.”

“Neither do you.”

“Albus Severus Potter!” Scorpius had never wanted to slap his lover until now. “Don’t take this out of context!”

“What context? We go together, we fight together, and hell, if we have to die, we’ll die together!”

“I don’t want you to get hurt on my behalf!” Scorpius tried to step out of Albus’ embrace, but his lover’s hold on him was too strong. “You stay here.”

“Just at least wait until December, and we’ll enlist then.”

“Albus . . . ” Scorpius sagged in Albus’ arms.

“We’ll do this together. Don’t sneak off now. We’ll wait.”

Deciding that his attempt to sneak off was useless for now, he decided to accept his defeat for now. “Fine.”

“Now let’s go and get some sleep. You exhaust me!”

Part IV
April 1945

“There’s a postcard for you,” Lord Potter said, coming into the sitting room where Albus, Lily, and Scorpius were studying.

Looking up, Scorpius saw an unreadable look on Lord Potter’s face. He stood up and gave Lord Potter a questioning look.

“It’s from your father.”

Scorpius stood still, unable to think, move, or utter a single syllable. His arm reached out mechanically as Lord Potter handed him the thin card as he kept reminding himself to breathe. This was it, the news he had been hoping to receive for almost five years. It was the one that he had expected to never see; the one he couldn’t even believe was in his hand with the familiar, yet more frantically written scrawling of his father’s. His hand felt the postcard, just to assure himself that it was real. A wave of emotion hit him, and he let unstoppable tears fall as he began to read it.

Scorpius,

I’m unable to write as much, so I have to be brief. Have to keep this under 100 words. I’m sorry it took so long to write you. I was sent to Auschwitz, but Soviet troops have saved all the prisoners here. I’m sorry to say your mother did not make it, but hopefully I’ll be able to reach you soon. I’ll not be able to go to you directly, but it shouldn’t be much longer until the war is over. I will be free to return to you, my sonnenschein.

Love your vater,
Draco Malfoy.

More tears formed in his eyes. His father was alive — well was when he sent the postcard, which was dated January of the year. But his mother, his wonderful and loving mother, was dead. His emotions went back and forth between joy and mourning. He may be able to see his father again, but not his mother.

“Scorpius?” Albus called his name as he sat up and moved towards him.

He looked up to his lover, a bittersweet smile on his lips. “My vater. . . he is free.”

Albus’ face lit up. “That is great!” He exclaimed and quickly wrapped his arms around Scorpius in a hug.

“Yes,” Scorpius replied with a hint of sadness.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t this good?”

“Mutter . . . died,” he forced the words out before more tears made their way down his face.

Albus hugged him tighter and whisper, “I am so sorry.”

Scorpius allowed the tears to fall for a few more seconds before he stopped them. He wiped his eyes, and he struggled to smile. “At least he’s alive. All these years . . . he survived them.”

“That’s great!” Lily’s bright voice chimed in, and that made Scorpius remember that he and Albus weren’t alone at the moment.

Scorpius turned around and blushed as he remembered Lily didn’t know anything about Albus and him. He knew that their affectionate display just minutes ago might be perceived otherwise than a friend comforting a friend.

Lily beat him. “I knew. You two have my approval.”

“Since when did you get so smart, Lily-kins?” Albus teased, using her hated nickname.

“I’m smarter than all of you boys put together! I might be the youngest, but never underestimate a woman. We do have more intelligence, you know.”

Lord Potter chuckled at Lily’s loud proclamation. “Yes. Take heart, boys. Never try to argue with a woman. They will always be right. But Scorpius, I am glad your father’s alive. When he makes it back to England, he is more than welcome to stay here as long as you two want.”

“T-thank you, Lord Potter,” Scorpius really was grateful towards this kind and generous man. Really, Scorpius owed Lord Potter a lot.

“Now, I think it’s time for supper, and we’ll need to celebrate this great news!” Lord Potter went off to find his help to see if they can formulate a more festive meal than their normal rationed cuisine.

May 1945

“The war has ended! The Germans have surrendered!” Lily’s loud announcement echoed through the whole manor as Scorpius ran out of his room and ran down to the sitting room where the radio blared the announcement. Even though he knew the day was just around the corner, he hadn’t expected it to be today.

His footsteps bounced off the wall, and he soon reached the room, looking as if he had run a marathon instead of just down the stairs.

“Is it true? They surrendered?” Albus demanded, running into the room as well.

Lord Potter nodded. “They have.”

“It’s over!” Albus exclaimed, as he turned to Scorpius in excitement.

He saw the older man shake his head then, and Scorpius understood why. “Only the Germans have surrendered,” Lord Potter began, “But the other Axis powers are still there. They are greatly weakened, though, without one of their leading forces.”

“This means that it is almost over then, right?” Scorpius asked hopefully.

“Yes,” he replied. “And the German surrender also makes it easier for survivors of Nazi imprisonment to go to friendlier territory, and it also means that some soldiers will be able to return home.”

“Like Teddy and James?” Lily questioned, her eyes large and hopeful.

“Possibly. Though don’t expect them to just show up right away. If they do return, it may take a little while before they get home.”

Scorpius smiled. The war wasn’t exactly over, but what he was concerned most about was. That meant they might see Teddy and James again for the first time since that December that seemed forever ago, but importantly it meant a reunion with his father was closer. True, he didn’t know what happened to his father between January and the German surrender, but he was sure his father was still alive and that they would see each other again.

As he stood there imagining all the good that would come, Albus moved closer to him and wrapped his arms around him in a hug before whispering, “Finally.”

“Eww, they are getting all cuddly,” Lily joked.

“Oh, hush,” Albus laughed as he pulled from the hold and moved to her to put his hand on her head and mess up her hair.

Lord Potter laughed heartily at the exchange, as did Scorpius, before relaxing in his armchair next to the radio and saying, “You kids go out and play now. I am going to finish listening.”

June 1945

Slowly, trickle by trickle, Britian’s troops came back to the isle. Men and women, who had survived the horrendous war that raged around the continent, returned different. As ones who experienced and saw horrors and nightmares, it was only natural for some to look at life differently.

Luckily, when James and Teddy came back towards the middle of June, almost a month since the Germans admitted defeat, they weren’t one of them. In fact, they were both excited to be back home.

However, when one of the more inquisitive bunches asked them about what they saw during the wartime, both declined to answer. James’ face had a frown, a deep frown etched between his brows. Teddy didn’t scowl or anything similar like his lover, but he became quieter and refused to talk about what was asked.

Despite their refusals, they quite happily spent times with their families and friends. After lounging around the manor for a week or so, they decided to pick up what they left behind: they were to follow Lord Potter’s footsteps and would work under him.
The two older ones worked, and the younger ones continued their schooling. For Scorpius and Albus, this was their last term, so they had plenty of examinations to prepare for towards the end of July. During one of these study sessions, Scorpius would look up from his piles of books and stare out the window in his room. He looked at the blue sky, the fluffy clouds that slowly drifted by, and he wondered when he would hear from his father.

As the days went by, Scorpius became more and more apprehensive. He worried about his father’s current condition and location. He anticipated his father’s arrival any day now, yet he dreaded to meet his father.

So much time had passed, and he wasn’t sure if he’d meet the same man he left behind all those years ago. Also, there was the crucial matter of his father accepting his lover, one who wasn’t the fairer sex. How would his father react to his only son being of that inclination?

Hesitantly, Scorpius voiced his concerns to Albus, and he even told how he dreaded meeting his father again.

And Albus responded in a more positive manner than expected. “I can see why you’d feel that way. I’m sure I would, too, if I had been separated from my family this long. Don’t worry too much, though. I’m sure after he gets over his initial shock, he’ll still love you and accept you.”

Scorpius wanted to say “thank you” to his friend and his lover, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Albus’ shoulders and turned his face towards Albus’ to kiss him. When their lips met, he tried, with his all best, to transmit the unspoken gratitude and love he felt for the other boy.

July 1945

Scorpius stood still in between Lily and Albus, at least he tried to. It was hard standing still with all the nervousness and excitement swirling around inside of him. A few days prior, Lord Potter had received word that Draco Malfoy, Scorpius’ father, had arrived in Ramsgate. After careful planning, arrangements for his father to arrive at the Potter manor were all set. Scorpius’ mood swung back and forth between ecstatic and anxious. He hadn’t seen his father in so long and worried that things wouldn’t be the same as before between them, especially after a few new goings-on were told.

It was a Saturday afternoon when the day of his arrival had finally come. Scorpius continuously picked at his clothing and hair to make sure they were perfect throughout the day, which Albus would respond to by saying everything will be fine and not to worry so much. He tried to listen to his lover, but the worry stayed bubbling underneath. To try and distract his thoughts, he brushed up on his German with Albus and Lord Potter. He hadn’t used it in a while and wanted to make sure he didn’t seem too different than the boy who had left on the train all those years ago.

“There’s the car!” Lily exclaimed and pointed.

Scorpius eyes followed her finger, his heart pounding faster once they found it. He bit his lip nervously as he shot an apprehensive look towards Albus, who replied with a reassuring smile. He began turning to look back at the approaching vehicle when his eyes caught glance of Lord Potter. The man stood tall and proud in the line of members of the household, much like he did when Scorpius had arrived seven years before. He hated him then and the rest of the family, but he had quickly changed his mind. Now he felt like one of them, one of the family members.

He returned his gaze to his front, watching as the black car that held his father approached. Just the idea that his father was so close after so long was enough to cause Scorpius’ eyes to water. He couldn’t believe that he would soon see his father, that they were even in the same place. When he heard the brakes, it took every bit of control he had to keep standing where he was.

Time seemed to slow and stretch out as Scorpius watched the door open. Once open, a clean, obviously newly bought, shoe stepped outside the vehicle followed by the body of a man. He looked aged and worn, and for a moment Scorpius wondered who he was before the man lifted his head and the realisation hit him. This beat-up looking man was his father. Though not as well-kept and prideful as he last saw him, it was surely him.

“Vater!” he exclaimed and instinctively ran to him.

“Scorpius? Scorpius! Mein Sohn! Ich kann nicht glauben, dass es Sie, mein süßes Kind ist!” he shouted.

Tears fell down both their faces as their arms wrapped around each other in a long anticipated embrace. “Ich habe Sie verfehlt,” Scorpius spoke between sobs, telling his father he missed him.

“Ich verfehlte Sie auch,” his father replied through tears of his own.

Scorpius hugged his father tighter, and with his arms around his father’s upper-body, he felt just how thin the man had become, no doubt from the concentration camps. News of the horrible treatments at the death camps came through the reel, newspapers, and magazine articles. They shocked him, and while he realised his father went through this, to meet an actual death camp survivor left him feeling surreal.

Finally the two separated, and Scorpius turned to look at the others who had watched their reunion. He gently guided his father towards Lord Potter. Before he could say anything, though, Draco spoke up first.

“I . . . thank you, Lord Potter. Thank you for caring my son all these years.” Even though it had been years since he heard his father’s voice, he heard something he had never heard in them before. His father sounded defeated and exhausted, almost as if he had come back to him just to thank the man who had took him in.

Lord Potter must had felt the same thing since he stepped up and grabbed Draco by the shoulders. “Please. No need to thank me. I did what any decent citizen would have done.”

Scorpius saw his father’s shoulders slumping down in Lord Potter’s stronger and healthier looking hands. “But I still thank you.”

“Come. Enough of this. I’m sure this journey had exhausted you. A room has been prepared for you. Let us go.”

“Ja . . . thank you.”

As much as Scorpius wanted to go with his father to the room, he decided he needed some time to collect his thoughts and to let his father rest. When Lord Potter took his father inside, Scorpius grabbed Albus’ hand and tugged him towards a private place.
Wordlessly, Albus followed, and it wasn’t long until they reached their special little place in the wooded area behind the manor. They came upon the large oak tree that they liked to sit under — the same tree they were under when they discussed Achilles and Patroclus years before — and Scorpius sat on the ground first. Albus joined him, and when he felt his lover’s warm body, he went straight into Albus’ embrace and sought out solace and comfort. The reunion with his father sapped more of his energy than expected.

“He’s finally here . . . ” He heard Albus say softly.

“Yes. After all these years . . . ” Scorpius sighed. “He’s like James and Teddy except worse, I think. What sufferings he must have gone through . . . he’s so unlike the proud and haughty man I left behind.”

“I’m sure he will get better with time,” Albus replied, running a hand through Scorpius’ hair. “He probably won’t be exactly the same, but now that he is here with you and has less to worry about he will certainly get better.”

“I hope so; I hate seeing him like this,” Scorpius said before letting out a long sigh. “I knew that he was going through horrible treatment, but I never realised how badly it would affect him. As a kid, I always saw him as this strong, undefeatable force. Now, he seems broken.”

“He isn’t broken,” Albus reassured him. “He may have been worn down, but he is obviously strong or else he wouldn’t have made it this far. Having to hand over his son to strangers, being held in one of those camps, and losing his wife, your father must have been strong to not give up with all that.”

Scorpius gave his lover a warm smile before replying, “Thank you.”

Albus returned the smile and Scorpius closed his eyes to rest. As he did so, he thought about how lucky he was to have been sent to the Potter home. He had heard of other children being sent to horrible homes where they worked almost like servants, but Scorpius had a complete opposite experience. He was welcomed into the household with loving arms, found himself a second family, and encountered the love of his life. All the worrying through the years seemed worth it just to have met Albus who he now couldn’t imagine his life without.

“I love you,” he heard Albus whisper as a hand caressed his face gently.

Scorpius leaned into the touch and answered back, “I love you too.

He awoke to the sound of Lily’s voice calling out, “Albus! Scorpius! Dinner!”

Scorpius let out a yawn as he stretched his shoulders and opened his eyes. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” Albus said, his arms still around him.

“How long was I sleeping for?” he asked curiously, not remembering when he had fallen asleep.

Albus shrugged, “An hour or two.”

“I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.”

“Don’t worry,” Albus smiled. “You were worn out from everything; it is understandable.”

Scorpius yawned again, and he stood up, reaching a hand out for Albus to grab. Hand in hands, they headed into the manor. When they reached the dining room, Scorpius, still holding onto Albus’ hand, forgot a tiny crucial detail. His father was in the dining room, and his father had no idea of his son’s choice of lover.

Scorpius stopped abruptly, quickly let go of Albus’ hand, and stared at his father’s unreadable facial expression.

There was a long moment of silence as all the occupants in the room held their breath to see how the elder Malfoy would react to the younger Malfoy’s preference. Scorpius saw Lily’s small, pale hands wringing with worry. Teddy and James shared a knowing look. Lord Potter had an unreadable expression as well, just like his father’s. The only face he couldn’t see was Albus’, who stood behind him, a good thing, too, since if Albus wasn’t there, Scorpius would have surely bolted from this unplanned and dangerous situation.

In a forced voice, Scorpius said, “Father . . . ”

Draco interrupted him. “So this is the end of the Malfoy line, at least in a biological sense.”

“What?” Scorpius gaped, unattractively, at his father. He was sure that if his eyes weren’t attached by those muscles, they would have fallen out and landed with a splat from his shock.

“Close your mouth, Scorpius.”

He automatically obeyed his father’s order.

“Now come sit down. We’ll talk about this later. And just to ease you a bit, I am not angry at you.”

Albus’ hand rested against the small of his back, and that gave Scorpius back some of his courage and calmness. Relieved to hear that his father wasn’t angry, he and Albus sat down, and dinner proceeded as if the last few minutes had never happened.

After dinner, Scorpius was in the sitting room, alone with his father. Scorpius had his usual cup of tea. His father opted for a cup of coffee. The two sipped at their drinks in silence until Draco broke it.

“One materialistic thing I’ve missed was coffee. You know your mother and I loved it.”

“Yes, I remember,” Scorpius stared at the milky brown liquid in his own cup.

“When I sent you away, I did it to protect you, did it to at least save you from the horrors that came to Germany.”

“I know,” he nodded and took another sip.

“I just wanted you to know that, though, I didn’t want to have you separated from us, your mother and I did it because it was the best option.”

Scorpius nodded again, “I understand. I was sad to be away from both of you and always wished we could have stayed together, but I have learned that it was the only option.”

“I am glad you understand,” his father replied simply before drinking more of his coffee.

Scorpius looked up at the man as they sat in silence. Whatever sleep his father had received managed to get rid of the tired and lazy posture of before. He sat upright with shoulders back, the same way Scorpius remembered from childhood. The rest hadn’t fixed the signs of age or evidence of what he’d gone through. The wrinkles, the scars, and the receding hairline his father probably preferred never to be brought up were still there and would be for the rest of his life. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever get used to these new features on his father.

“Every night I would wish I had never sent you away so I could have you with me,” his father spoke again, breaking the silence. His face shifted to a look of sadness and gloom as he continued. “I knew that what I did was right, but that never stopped me from missing you; the same with your mother. I didn’t really get to see her much after we were segregated in the camps, but I know she missed you just the same.”

Shocked wasn’t the word for how Scorpius felt listening to his father’s words. Yes, he knew they must have missed him because he missed them too, but to hear his father speak about anything involving what happened was amazing. Teddy and James avoided war talk like the plague, but here his father was even talking a bit about the camps, which Scorpius thought of as a million times worse.

“Does it really surprise you that we missed you?” his father asked in disbelief with a tone of being offended, obviously noticing his expression on his son’s face. “I know we were strict, but we always showed that we loved you.”

“I–” Scorpius began as he shook his head frantically, caught off guard by his father’s accusations. “I know that. I was just shocked that you were talking about that. Most people get all tense and silent.”

“Ah,” he nodded grimly, in understanding. “Most do and I completely comprehend why. For a while I tried to forget it all, but realised I never would and that when — if — I ever saw you again that I’d have to talk at least a bit about it. I can’t promise to say everything now or ever, but if you ever want to know something, I will try to tell you what I can.”

Scorpius sat there in silence again. He wondered if he ever would want to know something about his father’s experience bad enough to force him to remember something terrible. It didn’t take long for him to come with an answer; the one he knew would probably be the hardest one to ask and have answered. A frown crossed his face in thought of it.

“You have a question, don’t you?” his father asked. Scorpius bit his lip nervously, wondering if he even dare ask. The older man let out a sigh, as if realising the question. “You want to know about what happened to her, I assume?”

He reluctantly nodded before adding, “But I can wait if you don’t want to tell me right now.”

Scorpius watched as his father sighed heavily before he continued. “I haven’t received the full details of your mother passing — simply because there weren’t any written documentations. But from what I heard from the survivors in the women’s camp, she did fight to survive. Luckily, she never was chosen as one of the ones who had to perish in the chambers. Then again, that’s your mother. She may look frail, but she still managed to look sturdy and determined, and she somehow must have managed that when she was in Auschwitz.

“However, towards the end, around the end of December, she was diagnosed with typhoid. Without the proper nutrients and medical care, it wasn’t long until she succumbed to that disease. According to one woman, she told me that Astoria passed away on January 2, 1945. That’s all I know, all I’ve been told.”

By the time Draco finished the story, Scorpius’ eyes grew wet. As he tried to blink the tears away, he said, “At least she didn’t . . . ” He wanted to say it was good that his mother didn’t die in that horrible gas chamber, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Yes. At least she didn’t go in the chambers.”

Scorpius could only nod, his throat too tight with grief and sadness.

“Cry, my son. Don’t keep it in. It’s not worth it. I have taught you that we Malfoys do not show any weakness, but sometimes you just need to let it out.”

That did it. That broke Scorpius’ barriers, and he found himself weeping for his mother he will never get to see again, in his father’s thin and frail arm, yet they were still strong and protective.

When Scorpius finished, he sat back and tried to regain his composure. “Thank you for telling me, Father.”

“You deserve to know.” Right then, a wry and knowing smile came onto his father’s face. “Much like I deserve to know who my son is — for the better lack of word — courting.”

This time Scorpius face turned pink from embarrassment. “I . . . I didn’t want you to find out this way, Father. I didn’t mean for you to find out so soon.”

“Well, I know now.”

Swallowing hard, Scorpius cautiously asked the next question. “Do . . . do you disapprove?”

“What would you do if I did disapprove of this predicament?”

“Well . . . ” Scorpius was taken aback by that response. “I would not be able to give him up, Father.”

A soft look came onto his father’s face. “Scorpius. You left as a child, and now you’ve returned back to me as an adult. You’re your own man, now. While I always had hoped to see you settling down with a nice lady, I can accept who you choose to be with. Besides, this war, this persecution against us Jews and other groups the Nazis found lesser to their superior Aryan races, it taught me just how dangerous it is to be prejudiced to anybody.”

“Father . . . ” Scorpius studied his father once again. In front of him sat a man who not only survived the worse horrors any human can go through, but a man who became much wiser, the kind of wisdom only one can gain from such an experience.

“You have my approval, Scorpius. I don’t know anything about that young Albus Severus, but if he’s anything like his father . . . I trust and respect your choices.”

“Thank you, Father,” Scorpius smiled softly.

“Just don’t let me see you flaunting it about,” Draco continued sternly. “I know how the law regards these sort of things, and I do not want you or him sent to prison for it.” He then scrunched his nose up in distaste before adding, “Nor do I really care to see it. I don’t mind the holding of hands, but I don’t want to see anything else. You understand?” He asked the last part with firm eyes towards his son.

Scorpius nodded quickly, feeling that wouldn’t be an issue given he didn’t really want to be seen with Albus kissing, or anything more, by his father.

“Good,” he spoke and gave a nod of his head in satisfaction. “Now that that has been cleared up, I think I shall be heading off to bed. Even this coffee doesn’t seem to ease my exhaustion.”

“Good night, Father,” Scorpius replied, nostalgia hitting him with the long-since-spoken words.

His father smiled as he answered back, “Good night, Scorpius.”

Scorpius gave his father one last look before leaving. As he walked up the stairs, he couldn’t believe how things had turned out just now. His father easily accepting his alternate lifestyle was not exactly how he envisioned. Still, though, he did feel glad it ended up like this. He’d hate to see his father all disappointed and disgusted towards him.

He soon entered his room, and he saw Albus on his bed, reading a book. He watched his lover set the book down, a worried look on Albus’ pale face. “How did it go?”

“Fine.” Scorpius smiled and joined him on the bed. “He just doesn’t want to see me doing anything with you, but he accepted it.”

He felt Albus breathed out in relief. “I’m glad.”

“And he told me how my mother passed.” In a soft voice, Scorpius retold what he had heard from his father earlier, and when he finished, he found himself in Albus’ embrace, and he rested his head against his lover’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry she didn’t make it, but I’m glad your father did. At least you have him now.” Scorpius heard the slight pause. “And you have me, of course!”

Making a face, Scorpius looked into Albus’ green eyes, finding them twinkling with mischief. “Oh, you . . . ” Without any warning, Scorpius grabbed a pillow and pelted it in Albus’ face.

Laughing, getting rid of the tension and the moment of grief, the two started a healthy pillow fight as they both tried to stifle any loud noises that would bring unwanted guests into their sanctuary.

Epilogue
May 1950

“All right there, Lily?”

James’ loud voice rang so loudly to the point that the people on the other side of the ship heard him.

“Hush, James.”

Scorpius walked over to where Lily sat, looking miserable from her seasickness. He wrapped an arm around the young girl, no lady, who had been his surrogate little sister for years now. “We’ll be there soon, Lils.”

“I hate this ship.”

“And just think, Lily-kins, we’ll be going back to England like this in a couple of weeks.”

“Shut it, James Sirius Potter! Wait until we get on solid land!”

Laughing, James grabbed Teddy’s arms, making their escape to the restaurant.

Scorpius grinned and shook his head as he looked around the deck of the ship, watching the people come and go. He let his thoughts wander as he breathed in the sea air and felt the nice cool breeze around him. More than a decade had passed since he had left Germany and came to England. Just like his journey all those years ago, he was now on a new adventure. Only, this was more pleasant. He and his family were on their way to visit the new country of Israel.

“I wish that Arab-Israeli war hadn’t delayed the trip two years ago,” Lily spoke again, disrupting him from his thoughts.

Scorpius scrunched his forehead in confusion. “Why?”

She shot daggers into the air as she held her upset stomach. “Because then I could have used school as an excuse to not go and thus not feel so terrible.”

Scorpius rubbed her arm to comfort her, “Don’t worry. It will all be better in a bit, and all the excitement of the trip will take over.” He then looked at Albus who was standing nearby and asked, “How much longer until we get there?”

“About a half hour,” Albus turned and replied.

Lily groaned, “I want to be there now!”

“That excited, are we?” He let out a laugh, earning himself a glare from his sister.

“I just want land,” she whined. “I think at this point I will be so thankful that I would marry it.”

“I know you are of age and all,” Scorpius began. “But I don’t think your dad would be all too keen on the idea of you marrying the land of Israel.”

“I don’t know,” Albus intervened. “Being the bride of the country would be quite profitable. Then she could give us some land, maybe bribe people into letting us do whatever, and we could live some pretty comfortable lives.”

She giggled at that, though her face soon turned into a smirk as she replied, “Well, I might give the family land, but if I do there will be a none-for-Albus rule instated.”

“I like that rule,” Scorpius snickered.

“So mean,” Albus jokingly pouted. “Guess I will just have to go off and marry my own country. Maybe America. Then I shall have my wife-country beat up Israel and take over all of you.”

Scorpius couldn’t help but laugh at his lover’s statement. He was about to make a remark, but his father and Lord Potter approached, the latter eyeing his son questioningly as he spoke up. “Do I want to know?”

“They plan to marry countries,” Scorpius answered simply with a small chortle.

The man blinked a few times before shaking his head, knowing he probably shouldn’t ask for further explanation. “Anyway,” he started again. “We will be arriving soon, so go make sure all your things are together.”

“Lily, are you all right?” Draco interjected, eyeing the young women in concern.

She smiled grimly and responded, “Seasick.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Lily,” Lord Potter replied. “You boys go now, while Draco and I will take her to get something to ease her stomach a bit.”

“Oh, please! Don’t even mention the word ‘food’!” Lily begged, her face turning green as the ship chose at that moment to rock a bit harder than necessary.

After making sure Lily wasn’t going to faint from her ailment, Albus and Scorpius walked off towards their room. Once out of earshot, Albus started laughing.

“I don’t think it’s nice to laugh at your sister’s condition,” Scorpius admonished.

“You’re right, but her antics were humorous!”

Inside their room, Scorpius shook his head as he took a seat on the large bed, easily able to accommodate two grown men. “Yes, she does have the flair for dramatics.”

“Absolutely. Hence why she’d be a great actress — if she can ever memorise her lines.” Albus sat next to him and entwined their hands together. “Are you excited that we’re almost there?”

“Hmmm?” Scorpius looked sideways at Albus and smiled. “It is always exciting to visit a new country, especially with the people I love.”

“Would you ever want to move to Israel permanently?”

“No, I don’t. England’s my home now. And while I do believe in some of the Zionist’s beliefs on how the Jews needed a homeland . . . it’s not for me.”

“Yeah, I would miss jolly old England if I had to move to Israel with you. Or anywhere else in the world,” Albus said gently, leaning over to peck Scorpius’ cheek. “Though, I do want to travel more with you.”

“We could go to United States next. I hear San Francisco would be lovely. I think I heard words about that city becoming the next west coast Harlem, heard all sorts of writers and artists trickling in there.” Many years ago, Scorpius had fallen in love with English poetry. Along with the poems, he also discovered he enjoyed reading prose from the modern writers of 1910s and 1920s, and this allowed him to explore literature with unrelenting passion. He also tried to write his own prose, and currently he only shared them with Albus.

“Hmmm. Not a bad idea. You can pursue your strange writing ideas, and I could look into starting an interior designing business there.”

Scorpius poked Albus in the side and pretended to scowl angrily. “My writings are not weird.”

“Oh, spare me. Your writings are just like James Joyce’s! All that stream-of-consciousness stuff? I think F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway are more my style.”

“That’s because you don’t have the brain to comprehend such beautiful and complex works Joyce is known for,” Scorpius delivered seriously. “Hemingway uses simple, declarative sentences, same as Fitzgerald, though he focused more on symbolism, I think. Joyce is a whole different level from those two.”

“You know, instead of writing, you should just teach literature and poetry.”

“Maybe,” Scorpius grinned. “If I get my own classroom, you can decorate it.”

“Then may I decorate it with elaborate phallic symbols here and there?”

A long silence passed between them as Scorpius finally said, “No.”

“Aw, come on.”

“No, Albus. Decorate your own office like that, not mine!”

“Tsk. You’re no fun.”

“Your definition of fun is quite questionable.”

“Hush.” Albus slung an arm around Scorpius, and Scorpius automatically leaned into the warmth. “I have to say, walking into our fathers was quite interesting.”

“Albus!” Scorpius closed his eyes, trying to erase the image that came uninvited in his head.

“What? Are you that traumatised by seeing your father and mine in that predicament in the manor’s library?”

Scorpius grimaced at the memory, “That was extremely scarring.”

“You didn’t seem this disturbed when we caught Teddy and James,” Albus noted amusedly.

“True, but this time was different. First of all, it was our fathers. Second, I personally found our fathers together a bit more shocking. And third, that was way more than I ever wanted to see my father doing with anyone — man, woman, or whomever. And you have to admit it was a lot more traumatising.”

It was Albus’ turn to scrunch his face at the thought. “It really was terrifying to see that,” he answered. He then grinned and added, “But the facial expressions when they saw us catch them were priceless.”

“Mine probably wasn’t much better,” Scorpius muttered glumly.

“It was perfect,” Albus snickered. “Jaw to the floor and eyes as big as plates.”

“I’m glad my horror bemuses you,” He glared at his lover.

Albus lifted an eyebrow in question, “Are you going to lecture me on laughing at other people’s pain? After all the laughing you had at my expense when that sinister woman tried molesting me earlier today?”

Scorpius let out a burst of laughter, “That was so great! You look so mortified when she was hanging on your shoulder and asking if you wanted to go to her room.”

“And you got onto me about laughing at your pain,” Albus commented and shook his head.

Scorpius let out an amused snort before giving Albus a sweet smile, “You know I still love you.”

“You better,” Albus smiled and kissed Scorpius on the lips. A horn signalling the ships arrival then sounded and he let out a deep sigh. “I guess we should grab our bags and go now.”

The two then stood up and gathered their things before leaving their room and heading to the deck. They eventually found their fathers through the crowd with Lily, who seemed to be jumping up in down in excitement.

“Almost there, almost there, almost there,” she chanted eagerly.

Scorpius saw Teddy and James make their way through the mass of people, the dark-haired one laughing at his sister as he said, “That isn’t going to make things go any faster.”

“I don’t care,” she replied, as she stopped hopping. “I am just excited that I will soon be off this bloody ship.”

“Just wait till you get to go on it again!” James joked with enthusiasm.

She narrowed her eyes, “As if. I plan to fly back.”

“You think Dad is going to pay for you to be flown back?”

“I will find a way back that doesn’t involve going on a ship again,” she answered determinedly.

“You could always walk back. By the time you arrive in England, you’ll look like an old hag!” James winked at her.

Scorpius looked to Albus then and asked, “Do you think the two of them will ever be able to go ten minutes around each other without bantering?”

Albus thought for a moment and replied, “Probably not.”

The two shared a small laugh before Lord Potter and Draco ordered them to get moving. With Teddy, James, and Lily in front of them, and their fathers following in the back, they safely held each other’s hands, out of witnesses’ sights, as they began to leave the ship to step onto the land of the new country Israel. As they walked, Scorpius couldn’t help but think how perfect all of this was. He had a loving family and someone to be by his side forever. Their future awaited them, and Scorpius knew that no matter what other hardships they faced, all would be well.

Once upon a time, there lived a young girl named Lily, and she looked forward to turning eleven. At eleven, she knew something wonderful would occur. It was a time where every young wizard and witch would go to the best wizarding school in the world, and that place was known as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She was only three when her oldest brother, James, went off first, and only four when her middle brother, Albus, left as well. Every time her brothers came back during the summer and winter holidays, they told her all sorts of fascinating stories. She heard stories about the Sorting Hat, the Hogwarts ghosts and portraits, the Giant Squid, the Quidditch matches, and so on. Everything simply amazed her, and she couldn’t wait until that September 1 of her eleventh year.

Soon, her eleventh year came, and by then she’d gone through a couple of major changes in her life.

When she was eight, her parents had divorced. That life-changing event upset everyone, but it influenced her the most since that was her first wake-up call to how difficult life could be. She had always envisioned that her parents would stay married and grow old together like her grandma and grandpa. To be told otherwise gave her an unpleasant shock, and she cried for a long time, fearing that it was all her fault no matter how much her mum and dad tried to say the opposite.

Eventually, though, she accepted the divorce. She told herself that big girls did not cry, but rather they learned to adapt and move on. When she saw how much happier her parents were with other people, she decided that it was better to see them happy than being miserable around each other.

The same thing happened when Albus and Scorpius came out and told everyone they were gay and seeing each other when she was ten. While she was taught to be open-minded and accepting, it was still a bit hard to see her brother dating a boy. But, like that time with her parents, when she saw how happy Albus was with Scorpius, she became accustomed to this new period of adjustment.

However, when her dreams were crushed in her eleventh year, she felt like the end of the world had come.

“Daddy? Mummy?” Lily looked at her parents, who had come together to tell her this bit of news, and her lips quivered as she tried to blink the tears away. “What do you mean I can’t go to Hogwarts?”

“Sweetheart . . . ” Harry sighed as he looked at Lily. “I’m sorry we have to tell you this, but you’re a Squib.”

“A Squib?” she whispered fearfully. “I . . . I don’t have magic?”

“Yes . . . ” Ginny said.

“But I can still go to Hogwarts, right? Please say I can! I want to go!” Lily shouted, standing up, hugging herself in protection. “Please, Daddy! Please, Mummy! Let me go.”

“I’m sorry, Lily, but you can’t. Hogwarts doesn’t accept non-magical children,” Ginny explained calmly.

“But . . . but . . . ” The tears she tried to hold in valiantly came down her lightly freckled cheeks. She knew what Squibs were; she knew about people like Mr Filch and Mrs Figg. She heard stories about how Mr Longbottom’s relatives thought he was a Squib at first. Like Mr Longbottom, she hadn’t displayed any magical abilities, but she told herself she’d get them when she became older. Her parents even told her that not everyone developed at the same rate, so she waited patiently for her magical powers to awaken.

But now to be told she’d never have any magic and to be told she couldn’t attend Hogwarts . . . she didn’t want to believe it.

As she sobbed in her father’s arms, she had to say one thing. “Please, don’t disown me.”

“Never,” Harry said firmly. “Magical or not, you’ll always be our daughter. You’ll always be our baby girl.”

Hearing her father’s strong words made her feel a bit at ease, but she still felt miserable at knowing she could never be a proud witch at Hogwarts.

September 1 came and went. Lily moped around in her room whenever she wasn’t at the local Muggle school. Her brothers had attended Muggle schools themselves, too, before they went to Hogwarts. Her parents had wanted them to grow up in both cultures, since they knew how clueless many wizards and witches were about the Muggle world. Lily never minded. She enjoyed school, and she knew it was only until she went to Hogwarts. Now, she’d have to attend until she grew up. For the first time ever, she found herself hating school, and her hatred showed in her attitude and in her schoolwork, her marks dropping to dismal numbers.

She became listless and apathetic. She simply didn’t care.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Lily?” She heard Albus’ voice. “We’re here. Can we come in?”

“Yeah.” She sat up on her bed.

Albus walked in with Scorpius, both looking very fit and handsome and both carrying ice skates over their shoulders. At Hogwarts, Quidditch wasn’t the only sport offered now. Under Headmistress McGonagall, Muggle sports were introduced to the school, and ice skating was one of them. Both Albus and Scorpius had become interested in figure skating. First they were solo skaters, but then they became the first gay pair to skate together on the ice at Hogwarts. Lily had watched them on the ice many times already. Watching them was quite an experience.

But right now she had no desire to watch the two of them act lovey-dovey on the ice or off it.

Albus handed his skates to Scorpius, and he sat on the bed next to her. “How’ve you been?”

“You asked me that just this morning. I’m fine,” Lily said unkindly. Now that Albus and Scorpius were done with Hogwarts, she saw them every day. “Don’t you have some competition to practise for?”

“We’ve just finished,” Scorpius answered. “We came to ask if you wanted to go to the local rink. Or we could go to the rink at my place.”

“No,” she stubbornly refused.

“Aw, come on,” Albus coaxed. “It’ll be fun. Look, we even bought you new, beautiful white skates!” He nodded towards Scorpius, who revealed the skates.

She eyed them. They were new, and they were pretty. And while she didn’t skate much compared to them, she did enjoy the few times she’d tried. “Fine.”

“Excellent! We’ll be your ‘fairy godfathers’ and change you into the Cinderella of the skating world. Get your warmest jumper and your gloves!” Albus looked pleased at her choice.

“Whatever,” Lily muttered. Though, she did wish they were her fairy godfathers. If they were, they probably could grant her wish to go to Hogwarts. For now, though, she decided to settle for breaking in her new skates. She imagined them to be magical skates, and she longed for them to give her magical power instantaneously.

The skates didn’t give Lily the powers she yearned, but she still had fun. As she skated on the vast rink belonging to the Malfoys, she zipped across the clean ice. It wasn’t like broom riding, but it still almost made her feel like flying. She quite enjoyed it.

While she skated to her heart’s content, she saw Albus and Scorpius taking a hot chocolate break inside a little resting area, and she knew they were watching her. They looked like they were having a serious discussion. Curious, she touched her earrings, a present from Uncle George, some new variation of the Extendable Ears, only they were called Extendable Earrings. When she touched a button on them, she could hear conversations nearby. Nobody knew she had these since Uncle George had made them specifically for her. Sneakily, she listened to their conversation.

“I think she has potential,” Scorpius said.

“So do I,” Albus admitted. “More than us, I’m afraid. She has a natural grace about her that we both lack. Then again, maybe it’s because she took ballet lessons before? I’m not sure.”

“Whatever’s the case, I’m willing to help her train.”

“Yeah.” Albus’ voice held a hint of sadness. “I just want her to be happy. Let’s ask if she’d want both of us train her, hm?”

“Sure, but first . . . ” Scorpius leaned over and kissed Albus deeply. It was done slowly and deliberately.

Lily raised her eyebrows. She wondered why they were kissing as openly as this. They had never done that before. She stilled her movements and watched through the window of the resting area in fascination.

She watched Albus kissing back, his arms coming to wrap around Scorpius’ neck. She wasn’t certain, but she figured their tongues met inside, and she envisioned them both twirling and swirling against each other, just like the way they skated on the ice together. On the ice, they became one with each other, each complementing the other’s strengths and weaknesses. When they kissed and hugged, their bodies meshed well together. Or that was what she thought.

While she found them to be interesting to watch, she didn’t really want to watch them go any further. She was only eleven, but she definitely knew about the whole sex thing, all thanks to her Muggle classmates and the Muggle entertainment industry; although, she wasn’t quite sure how two boys had sex. She skated closer towards them and shouted, “Hey! Can you two get a room and do it?!”

Scorpius and Albus broke apart. Albus gave Scorpius a horrified expression. “I thought you said the glass was spelled so nobody can see us!

“Father must’ve disabled them,” Scorpius said, his cheeks pink.

Lily giggled, feeling happier than she had for weeks. She gave them time to compose themselves, and when they came out, Albus said, “Lily, we wanted to ask you something.”

“Ow!” Lily landed on the ice, and she could feel a new bruise already forming on her sore hips.

“Lily? You’re overdoing the jumps.” Albus skated over and helped her up.

“But I can do it! I know I can! I almost got it!” she eagerly said, readjusting her ponytail.

Scorpius glided over. “I agree with Albus. It’s only been two weeks.”

Stubbornly, she said, “If Johnny Weir can do a single axel jump in a week, then I can do the same in a few weeks!”

As she skated off, she heard Albus said, “Well, at least she’s determined.”

“Persistent, too. And stubborn. She takes after you.”

“Shut up and stop that rhyming!”

She ignored them as she skated away, gearing up to do another jump.

Every day, except for Sunday, Lily practised. She’d wake up early in the morning to practise at the Malfoys’ rink before school started. She’d practise after school at the local rink, so she could be motivated and challenged by skaters her age. Her practices ran well into the night as long as she didn’t have any homework to work on. It was a rough schedule, but she didn’t mind.

She enjoyed skating, and the more she practised and zigzagged across the ice, the more she became passionate about it. Whenever she skated, she’d forget about all her worries and troubles, and she’d let herself be transported into a magical world of her own.

Whenever she was off the ice, she’d use her laptop to look up clips of figure skaters from the past. She’d watch the men’s, the ladies’, and the pairs’ competitions. She paid close attention to the choreography, the complex jumps, footwork, and spins, and she admired the beautiful costumes and outfits the skaters would don. She read and had Albus and Scorpius explain the International Skating Union judging system, wanting to familiarise herself with it. She kept tabs on current skaters, keeping an eye out for her future competitors. She even raided James’ MP3 collection to listen to a variety of music, so she could get some ideas for future song selections.

It wasn’t long before she set a goal for herself. A new dream formed in her mind as she decided to aim for the gold at the World Junior Figure Skating Championship and eventually the Olympics.

She knew it would take a lot of work, and she was willing to do it.

A year later, Lily grinned as she landed a triple jump. Her jumps were coming along nicely, as well as her spins and footwork.

Albus told her that she was ready to enter the local competition, and her two coaches helped prepared her for it. Albus focused more on the technical abilities, and Scorpius helped with the artistry of her movements and on expressing her emotions. These were their personal strengths in their skating, and Lily listened and followed their guidance.

Soon, she had a choreographer. She was thrilled at this new step. Now, she’d have a programme to work on, a short programme and the free skate. That made it feel more official as she prepared for the competition in a few months.

At her first competition, she fretted before she did her programmes.

“What if I fall? What if I forget my steps?” She attached herself to Albus’ arm, her nervousness claiming her.

“Lily.” Albus looked into her eyes. “You told me before that skating feels like magic to you. You also said you feel like you’re in another world when you get on that ice, right?”

She nodded.

“Just remember that when you’re out there,” Scorpius said. “Close your eyes, imagine yourself to be at the practice rink all alone, and skate your heart away.”

She took their advice. She skated a clean short programme, placing first. In the free skate, she nearly forgot her moves, but her muscles remembered them. She listened to the rhythm of the music, associating them with her moves, and she made it through the free skate with no major problems.

When she was done, she breathed hard on the ice. She heard the clapping. She heard and saw a sea of red as her family and relatives all cheered for her. She caught Albus and Scorpius looking very proud, and she gave them a beaming smile.

When the scores came out, she outclassed the other girls, and she won the gold. As she stood on the podium, waving to the flashing cameras, she knew she could achieve her dreams, and that was without any magic. She was ready to show the Muggle and the wizarding world just what a so-called Squib could do.

“‘Fifteen year-old Gets Closer to the World Junior Championship’,” Scorpius read the headline of the article. “Blimey. Can’t they be a bit more creative with their titles?”

“What would you suggest?” Albus asked.

“Oh, something like ‘Gorgeous Teen Skater Aims for the Gold’.”

Lily laughed. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s any better than the original.”

Scorpius pretended to look hurt. He turned to look at Albus and pouted. “Her words wound me deeply! Heal me with a kiss, love!”

Albus and Lily exchanged a look. Albus questioned, “Should I?”

“Why not?” Lily agreed. “It’ll make him less loony, I reckon.”

“Naw, I know a better way.” Albus smirked and summoned a pillow. With it, he whacked Scorpius in the face.

“Ow! I never knew the Potters were so violent. Don’t you know the old saying ‘make love, not war’?”

“I thought it was ‘peace’,” Lily interjected.

“Close enough,” Scorpius retorted.

Lily rolled her eyes. “I’ll let you two have some ‘together time’. Just remember the silencing charm, please?”

They blushed as she scampered out. As soon as she closed the door, she heard one of them casting the spell, but then she stopped and opened the door a smidgen. She peeked inside, and she watched the love visible on their faces. She observed the half-closed eyes and the gentle smile on Scorpius’ face. She saw Albus’ green eyes darkened with emotion.

The two moved fluidly, Scorpius with more grace than Albus. Their lips came in contact with each other. The kiss was light at first, but she could see them deepening it. Albus buried his hands in Scorpius’ long blond hair. Scorpius’ slender and elegant fingers hooked themselves into Albus’ trousers’ belt loops. Every action, everything they did was more intense than when she had watched them at the tender age of eleven. She smiled to herself as she stared at the sweet scene. She knew Albus and Scorpius really loved and cared for each other. Their love was deeply rooted and genuine, and it was noticeable the most when they kissed like this.

Deciding to give them the privacy they needed, she quietly closed the door and leaned heavily against it. Two things floated in her mind as she stared at the wall in front of her. First, she hoped to find a man who’d love her just like Scorpius and Albus did for each other. Second, in her next competition, she wanted to emulate the emotions she just saw in her skating. She wanted to show the judges and the audience just how much she loved being on the ice and how much she wanted to win. She longed to feel a sense of accomplishment, and she would do it. She was ready to prove to the world that she could do anything.

The competition at the World Junior Championship was stiff. The best skaters from all over the world were here, and Lily could feel the tense atmosphere. In her short programme, due to nervousness, she messed up on a triple-triple combination, and that resulted in her being in fourth place. She felt discouraged by the results, chastising herself that she could have done better.

In her hotel room, she threw herself on the sofa.

“Lily?” Albus sat next to her. His arm rested on her shoulders, and she leaned into the half-embrace.

“I did poorly.”

“No, Lily. Fourth place is not bad. There’s always the free skate. That will bring a lot of surprises, you know.”

“Albus is right.” Scorpius joined them on the sofa. “Fourth place is nothing to be ashamed of. You did great.”

She gave a small smile. Half-teasing and half-serious, she asked, “Know of any spells that might help me in the free skate?”

“Lily, listen to me.” Albus’ voice took on an authoritative tone. “You don’t need magic to win this. I know you’re still sore about not being able to go to Hogwarts, but I want you to remember something. You did this with your determination and talent. You came this far in a short amount of time like Johnny Weir did. You did this without any spells or potions. This was all you.”

Scorpius squeezed her hand. “Just skate your best and have fun. That’s all we ask of you.”

Lily nodded with tears in her eyes. “Thanks. You two are the best ‘fairy godfathers’ I could ever hope for.”

“Well, we are indeed fairies . . . should we invest in some wings, too?” Albus teased.

All three burst out laughing, and Lily knew then just how lucky she was with her life. Like all those other times, she’d learned to adapt. Whatever results she received in her free skate, she was ready to accept and move on.

Lily was the last skater to do the free skate. Similar to her short programme, she arrived on the ice nervously. She did her warm-ups, her legs feeling like jelly and her stomach doing flip-flops. Many things went through her mind, but the thing that stuck out was the kiss she saw of Albus and Scorpius. As she pictured the serene scene, she closed her eyes and went into her starting stance.

At the first beat of the music, her eyes opened, and she began her routine. Through every spin and every jump combination, she poured her love and passion for the sport into her body movements, her facial expression, and her soul. As she skated, she smiled beautifully. A peaceful aura surrounded her, and she felt a magical and special feeling burst inside of her as she continued her programme to the very end.

When finished, she listened to the applause and the cheering. She saw the flowers being thrown here and there. She skated around, bowing to her supporters and her loved ones.

Years ago, she had found out she had no magical abilities. However, now she knew magic came in many different forms. Skating on the ice was magical in its own way. It allowed her to cast a spell on those who watched her perform.

By her definition, she was no longer just a Squib but rather a Magical Squib. And it was all thanks to her “fairy godfathers”. She skated up towards them, and her eyes sparkled as they both sandwiched her in a hug.

Ending Notes

– I used Wikipedia as a source to read up on Johnny Weir and Kim Yu-Na. I based Lily’s “skating achievements” on them.

But he who never sins can little boast
Compared to him who goes and sins no more.
— N.P. Willis

Prologus (Prologue)

As someone from a pureblood wizarding family, Ron Weasley had never been exposed to the Muggle religion. It wasn’t until he married Hermione that he began learning about the different religious ideologies that Muggles believed in. Hermione ended up telling him about the Christian virtues.

Hermione wasn’t religious like those crazy followers Ron would see on the street, but her parents were religious, so Ron tried to understand some of the concepts to appease them. Ron wasn’t exactly sure why some things were considered sins and what heaven and hell had to do with it when he didn’t believe in the two concepts, but he learned about them and tried to not succumb to them.

Even after he and Hermione divorced, Ron, out of habit, continued to mind the seven deadly sins.

Unfortunately for him, someone in his life soon made it rather difficult as he fell into a gigantic whirl of temptation.

Socordia (Sloth)

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” Ron said, not looking up from his solo chess game.

“Dad?”

“What is it, Hugo?”

“Why don’t you go get yourself a bloke and get laid?”

Ron coughed and spluttered, accidentally spitting his tea on the board. The king and queen glared and shook their fists at him, but Ron ignored them and only turned to look at his son. A serious look came on Hugo’s face, and Ron felt himself blushing at that unwavering expression. “Hugo! That’s quite enough!”

“Seriously, Dad. It’s been five years since you divorced Mum. When are you going to get over this apathy stage of yours and get yourself a guy?”

Ron couldn’t believe his son was talking to him as if they were friends. Since when did their father-son relationship changed? Times like these was when he missed the more innocent days of Hugo and him chasing after each other on brooms, and the two of them going to every Cannon game they could go to. “Do I dare ask why you know so much about my private life?”

“Sure. Uncle Bill, Uncle Charlie, and Uncle George all told me about you. Apparently you reveal quite a bit when you’ve had some drinks.”

“Bugger!” Ron groaned, deciding he’d never drink with his brothers again.

“So Dad, about getting laid . . . ”

“Hugo, let’s not talk about my . . . my private life.”

“You have no sex life, Dad. There’s nothing to talk about! We need to fix that so you can have something to hide from me!”

“Look, Hu–”

“I mean, really, Dad! This isn’t healthy. I’m worried about you.”

Ron’s red face now had a scary look to it, but Hugo remained unfazed. Ron cleared his throat and said, “I’m fine. You needn’t worry about me.”

“Right. So you say. I don’t believe you.” A long moment of silence passed as Hugo appeared deep in thought. Just as Ron deemed this strange conversation to be over, Hugo exclaimed, “Maybe it’s not apathy! Maybe you’ve turned impotent! If that’s the case, a simple Muggle drug called ‘Viagra’ will solve all your problems!”

Ron let out a loud groan, and his forehead landed on the chess board. He ignored the screams and yells from the furious pieces as he wondered if he should obliviate himself later.

Ira (Wrath)

Ron gripped his mug of coffee hard as he looked fiercely out the window into his backyard. There, under the big oak tree, was Rose and Scorpius laughing together as they watched something on her “kneetop”. Ron had once tried to use one of those contraptions, but anytime he used it, he would get a blue screen with a bunch of text on it. Therefore, he decided he didn’t need to use one of those kneetops.

Regardless of his experience with the “puters”, he had other things to worry about as he watched his daughter and her “friend”. Rose and Scorpius had become best friends since both of them had been sorted into Ravenclaw. When he found out that the two of them were mates, he nearly hexed poor Flitwick into a portrait, but Hermione managed to talk some sense into him. For the next seven years, he had barely tolerated Scorpius’ presence in his home. He only allowed Scorpius to hang around here because Rose — who was worse than her mother at the cold treatment — would ignore Ron for weeks, and Ron, not wanting his little girl to be angry at him, learned to just live with it.

That didn’t mean he still liked the sod.

Especially when the said sod was getting closer and closer to his baby girl. Never mind that Rose was now finished with Hogwarts and would start her mediwitch training — Rose would always be Ron’s little girl. Because of that, Ron saw it as his job to protect Rose from any slimy gits who would want to take advantage of her, and that also included Scorpius Malfoy.

Hugo, oversleeping as usual on a lazy summer day, came to stand next to him and asked, “What are you glaring at, Dad?”

“M’not glaring at anything.”

“Dad, your eyebrows are so knitted together that they’re almost a monobrow.” Hugo peeked out the window. “Ah, you’re watching Rose and Scor?”

“Someone has to keep an eye on them, especially him.”

A perplexed frown came on Hugo’s face. “Why?”

What Ron really wanted to say was that he wanted that scum to stay and keep his hands away from Rose, but what he ended up saying was, “I don’t think Scorpius is good enough for Rose.”

For some reason or another, that caused Hugo to burst out laughing really loudly. “Oh, Dad! I think you’ve got a loose screw in your head.”

“Excuse me?!” Ron scowled.

Hugo stopped his inane laughing and uttered, “Scorpius is gayer than a pink penguin, Dad! So there’s no way in Hogsmeade he’ll go after Rose!” He started laughing again, this time leaning against the wall for support.

“What? You’ve got to be joking.” Ron couldn’t believe it. How could Scorpius being gay slip past him when he had a lot of gay friends himself? Well, not a lot, but he did have two.

“Nope. That’s why he’s got all that piercings on his left ear. Having those in his left ear means he’s gay, Dad.”

“I . . . piercings indicate that?” At least Ron now knew the reasoning behind Scorpius’ asymmetrical fashion sense.

“Yeah, it does. By the way, I want to get my ear pierced, too, Dad.”

” . . . No.”

“Aw,” Hugo said, giving him his best puppy eyes. “Please?”

“No. Now, since you’ve just told me that I don’t have to worry about your sister and Scorpius, should I worry that he’s after you?” Ron said this to make Hugo feel uncomfortable. He saw it as a payback for that conversation last week. He also figured if that was true, he’d have a legitimate reason to hex Scorpius.

Instead of looking horrified like he’d expected, Hugo responded calmly, “Dad? He knows I’m straight. Plus, he actually has his eyes set on someone else.”

“Oh.” Although Ron was curious on whom Scorpius fancied, he still felt deflated. Turning around, he stomped upstairs back into his room. He found himself staring at a blank wall as he tried to figure out why he felt odd by all these weird revelations.

Superbia (Pride)

For the next week or so, Ron continued to think and ponder on the most recent news on Scorpius. He still wasn’t able to accept the fact that Scorpius was gay. Well, he could accept it, but it strangely bothered him, and he wasn’t sure why he felt this way. It was as if he was looking at Scorpius in a new light, but he was having a hard time accepting this fact.

Or maybe he was just really embarrassed to have misjudged his daughter’s friend, and he refused to admit his mistake.

Whatever it was, Ron avoided Scorpius to the point where Rose noticed and commented on it.

“Daddy?” Rose came up to him one day, a frown gracing her features. “Why are you avoiding Scorpius?”

“Eh? I’m not avoiding him,” Ron lied, not looking directly at her.

“You are! I know you never really liked him, but he’s my friend, and you’re acting weirder around him than usual.”

“Rosie, I’m not avoiding him. I’m just busy.”

“Then why do you leave the room when he comes in? That’s blatantly obvious. He thinks he did something wrong for you to hate him.”

“I don’t hate him,” Ron grumbled out.

Rose sighed. “Daddy, I know you hated his father and the rest of the Malfoy family, but don’t you think you need to stop being proud and get over that ancient grudge?”

“Rosie, it’s nothing, okay? I’m just busy.” He tried hard to control his voice, but she only stalked out of the room to go on her morning jog. That made him groan. “Shite. Now, she’ll ignore me for a while.”

Standing up, he walked upstairs to go to his room, and he reached the guest room where Scorpius was spending the night. The door was opened, and he stopped and peeked inside. Scorpius was standing, his back towards the door, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Without the shirt, Ron had a clear view of Scorpius’ back, and what he saw nearly took his breath away.

On Scorpius’ back was a tattoo — a big tattoo that covered nearly all of his back. At the top, where his shoulders’ bones rested, a night sky was drawn. Its clouds were grey and iridescent as it moved across the back in slow motion. Stars twinkled here and there, and they formed a constellation of some sort. It looked like Scorpius the constellation, but Ron wasn’t entirely sure. The moon stayed in a corner, and it was currently in its waxing stage, matching the current lunar phase in real time.

Below the night sky was a majestic griffin. Ron could see its powerful body; its wings flapped and its tail swished back and forth. The white and gold colours were dimmed by the night sky, but thanks to the moonlight, it gave the griffin a mysterious glow. The griffin stared back at Ron — its eagle eyes looking solemn yet majestic — and it sent shivers down Ron spine, and his groin turned warm as arousal spread all over his body.

Spell bounded, Ron remained rooted in his spot. He knew he should walk away, he knew he shouldn’t be looking, but that tattoo enticed him.

Right then, Scorpius turned his head, and their eyes met. Ron’s blue eyes darted to look at Scorpius’ face. It was pointy, like Draco’s, but it had a softer appearance. Ron gazed at the pierced ear, taking in the silver jewelleries.

Scorpius broke the silence by drawling, “Can I help you with something, Mr Weasley?”

“Oh! It’s, er, it’s nothing. Just passing by.” Cursing his ability to blush easily, Ron stuffed his hands inside the pockets of his jeans and quickly escaped into his room.

Once in the safety of his room, Ron spelled a locking charm on his door, cast a strong silencing charm, and leaned heavily against his door. His legs, feeling like jelly, were unable to support him, so he sank to the floor, feeling his hard cock against the tightness of his jeans. How was it possible that he turned aroused by just looking at that tattoo? Not to mention the husky voice and the way Scorpius’ blond fringe fell in his eyes . . . why were all of these affecting him in ways he’d never imagined before?

Ron groaned as he summoned some lotion and tissues. He decided to just succumb to this inevitable circumstance for now and worry about his mental sanity later.

Invidia (Envy)

Rose invited another friend for the day. It was that Nott boy — Franklin was it? — and apparently he swung the same way as Scorpius did. At least that was Ron’s conclusion. It was bad enough that Franklin gave Scorpius lewd looks and touched him rather inappropriately, but it was worse when Scorpius acted and responded to the blatant flirting. Ron couldn’t help but feel jealousy towards Franklin.

Plus, Ron had the misfortune of overhearing their conversation, and it was filled with innuendos.

“Hey, Scor, have you been riding your broom lately?”

“Mm, not really. I haven’t been in the mood, you know.”

“Oh, I see. How about if I help you get in the mood then?”

“And how would you do that, Frankie?”

“Why don’t we compare them?”

“Whatever, mate. I’ve seen yours, and it doesn’t live up to my fine taste.”

“Then I say you’ve got horrid taste.”

“Is it my fault that your broom’s not my type? And my tastes are not horrid!”

“Boys!” Rose finally shrieked out with a giggle. “You two are disgusting.”

Ron, having heard enough, made a quick getaway to his room. His mind whirled as he thought of Scorpius’ broom. Images of Scorpius and Franklin in compromising positions flashed in front of his eyes. Shutting them tightly, he groaned and tried to think of something else. To no avail, though, he could see a wanton Scorpius on his back, begging and pleading for pleasure, his pale cheeks stained red, and instead of Franklin, Ron saw himself in Franklin’s place. In his imagination, Ron had locked Franklin up in a room, and he took on the job of touching Scorpius. He saw himself claiming Scorpius as his, and he said roughly to Scorpius, “You’re mine. Nobody else’s but mine.”

For the tenth time in about three days, Ron summoned his wanking materials towards him, and he pleasured himself as he lost himself into his fantasies, desperately ignoring the fact that Scorpius was the same age as Rose.

When he was done, Ron stared at the ceiling above his bed, and he wondered maybe if he should go seek professional help.

He didn’t understand this. Why did Scorpius have such a strange effect on him?

Avaritia (Greed)

He couldn’t stop watching Scorpius. Any time Scorpius walked in the room, Ron would look up and watch every single move Scorpius made. The simple flip of his wrist to get his fringe out of his eyes, the way he tugged on one of the earrings, the tongue that would wet his lips, and that proud posture of the way Scorpius carried himself all were noticeable as Ron watched him discreetly.

The possessiveness he felt before grew stronger, and Ron found it harder to control his desire as more fantasies bombarded him. He’d imagine Scorpius tied up to his bed, writhing and squirming, pleading to be touched and to be fucked. Ron would slowly comply with Scorpius’ wishes, but that was without the slow and treacherous torture he’d instigate on his very young lover.

Alone in the sitting room, Ron jolted himself back to reality. That image of Scorpius being bounded on his bed . . . he felt a shiver down his spine. That abuse of authority gave him a sense of power — much different from the way he commanded his Aurors — and while he found himself basking in that delicious feeling, he also felt disgusted at himself.

Sighing, he decided to grab something to eat in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure where his children were at the moment — only that he knew they were out. For that matter, he guessed Scorpius was with them. He walked down the corridor to his kitchen, and he stopped as his eyes narrowed at the beam of light coming from the loo. He crept to the door, which was opened at a crack, and with his wand in his hand, he peeked inside.

In the loo, Scorpius sat on the toilet, and he was obviously wanking. Ron’s eyes grew large as he stared at the scene unfolding in front of him. He couldn’t see Scorpius’ groin area. Instead, what he saw was Scorpius throwing his head back, revealing an expanse of pale, unblemished skin that Ron desperately wanted to mark. Scorpius’ mouth was slightly opened as he gasped and moaned. One of his hands was pinching and playing with his nipple, which Ron could see poking through the shirt. The other hand was pleasuring himself down there, and Ron didn’t miss the tell-tale noises from Scorpius’ crotch area.

The longer Ron stood and watched this scene uninvited, the more he became aroused. His trousers no longer felt comfortable but now felt rather snug. He felt warmth spreading from his middle to all over his body. His own breathing became ragged as Scorpius continued his self-wanking. Ron couldn’t leave. He greedily stayed and watched until Scorpius reached his climax.

Letting out a soft, strangled cry, Scorpius stiffened and he came. It was over when he finally slumped on that toilet. Ron came back to reality, and he stumbled backwards. With all of his Auror skills in place, he quietly crept back to his room instead of the kitchen. His appetite had disappeared and was replaced by a different form of hunger.

Gula (Gluttony)

“Daddy!” Rose exclaimed. “Leave some of it for us, too!”

Ron chuckled as he served himself some more of his mother’s delicious chocolate cake. “There’s plenty to go around, you guys. Dig in.” He cut off a piece with his fork and ate it, enjoying the moistness of the sweet cake.

Rose and Hugo both went after the cake, and Scorpius lingered behind them, sucking on a lolly. At first Ron didn’t pay any attention to him, only concentrating on finishing his slice of cake so he could get more. He was almost done when he looked up, his eyes meeting Scorpius’ darkened hazel ones. His gaze then travelled to the lolly. Scorpius’ pink tongue came out to flick the top, and he wrapped his mouth around the lolly and sucked on it, his cheeks becoming hollow at that movement.

Ron stilled, and he continued to watch Scorpius suck on the lolly.

“Scor,” Hugo’s voice rang out. “Have some cake.”

Scorpius took the lolly out of his mouth with a loud pop. “I will. After I finish this. Just save me some. Will you make sure you save some for me, Mr Weasley?”

Once again, their eyes met, and Ron forced himself not to blush and not to stare at the way the tongue continued to lick the lolly in a slow manner. Clearing his throat, he finally looked down at his cake and mumbled, “Yeah.”

“Excellent. I can’t wait until I have some. I know it’s a real experience to try some of Mrs Molly Weasley’s cake.” Was it Ron’s imagination or was Scorpius practically purring?

Ron quickly shoved the rest of the cake in his mouth, not caring if the icing and the crumbs ended up all over his lips and cheeks. Hastily, he stood up and said, “I’m done. Enjoy the cake.”

Like all the other times, he fled to his personal haven, and he locked himself in his room, wondering just what was wrong with him and his libido. He bit his lips to hold back a frustrated scream. Watching that scene nearly made him want to jump on Scorpius. He had wanted to take Scorpius there and now — even with Rose and Hugo there — and he would have gladly preferred Scorpius over the cake.

Cursing at himself, he decided that he really did need help if he was actually going to favour sex over food — especially his mother’s chocolate cake.

Luxuria (Lust)

“Oh,” Ron said suddenly, Flooing in from work. Sitting in his armchair was Scorpius, and Rose and Hugo were nowhere in sight. “Why are you in my chair?” He mentally cringed at the stupid question, yet he tried to give Scorpius a stern look. A look Scorpius ignored as he fiddled with one of his piercings and stroked his stomach. Ron could see a glimpse of the skin between the t-shirt and the jeans, and Ron again felt something coil in his own belly.

Scorpius looked up, his eyes half-closed, and gave Ron a lazy smile. “I was waiting for you, Mr Weasley.”

Ron glared at him. “Quit playing and go hang out with Rose or something.”

“I’m not playing, Mr Weasley.” Scorpius straightened himself on the chair and squarely met Ron’s fierce look with a defiant expression of his. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, and I just thought I’d end this whole charade to save you and me the hassle of dancing around each other.”

Ron was not going to let Scorpius take control of this situation. In his coldest voice, he said, “You claim I look at you in a certain way. What if you’re the one who read this wrong?”

“Mr Weasley, don’t lie. I know you . . . I know you want me,” Scorpius whispered, his voice causing Ron’s cock to twitch with interest.

Refusing to back down, Ron continued in an icy voice. “Don’t presume anything. What makes you think I want someone like you?”

Though it was quick, Ron saw a flicker of uncertainty in Scorpius’ eyes, but it was replaced with a determined glint that made Ron’s breath hitch. Scorpius stood up fluidly, and he glided over and stopped in front of Ron. Scorpius leaned in closely, and Ron felt the brush of Scorpius’ hand on his robes. “You’ve been watching me. I’ve caught you looking at my tattoo. I’ve felt your presence when I was wanking in the loo that one time. And let’s not forget the lolly incident. You were enthralled by the way I licked and sucked that sweet, weren’t you?”

“S-stop . . . ”

“No, I’m not stopping,” Scorpius replied lightly into Ron’s ears. The warm breath tickled him, and Ron couldn’t keep his shudder in control. “Do you know why I got this tattoo? Why a griffin? It’s because of you, Mr Weasley. For the longest time, I’ve had this crush on you, and when you divorced your former wife . . . do you know how much hope that had given me?”

“Wait, what?” Ron asked, his mind sluggishly trying to sort through the sweet and dangerous words that were uttered from Scorpius’ lips. He brought his hands on top of Scorpius’ thin shoulders, fully intending to push him away. He had to end this precarious situation. He had to take control over this again. How he lost control was beyond him, but Ron was not going to let Scorpius continue this.

However, instead of shoving Scorpius away, Ron ended up bringing Scorpius closer. Who made the next move, Ron wasn’t sure, but the kiss between them was welcomed and all the more thrilling as Ron slowly deepened the kiss with his tongue. He licked Scorpius’ lips, which parted instantly. Slipping his tongue inside the warm, moist cavern, Ron tasted the tea Scorpius had earlier. He tasted its sweetness and its bitterness, and Ron tilted their heads to get a better angle. Ron’s tongue caressed and bumped into Scorpius’, and while he expected Scorpius to seek dominance, he was surprised when Scorpius chose the submissive route.

Scorpius broke the kiss first. Panting lightly, Ron said, “We shouldn’t do this . . . I mean . . . you’re my daughter’s age . . . ”

“And you’re my father’s age,” Scorpius returned softly. “But I don’t care. I’m attracted to you . . . and you feel the same, right? Besides, in another twenty years or so, the age difference won’t be that noticeable.”

Ron gaped at Scorpius. “You . . . you were planning to stick around that long?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Yes, no, I mean . . . damn it!” Ron shook his head to gain some clarity. “You shouldn’t attach yourself to me like this. You have other blokes out there . . . like Franklin.” He tried to keep the jealous note out of his voice, but he probably didn’t do a good job of it since Scorpius started to laugh.

“Are you jealous of Frankie?”

Ron scowled.

Scorpius toned down his laugh to a soft chuckle. “Don’t be. He’s too busy going after someone else. Some Zabini bloke, I think. Besides, he knows I’ve had my eyes on you.”

It really was mind-boggling that Scorpius claimed to like him. Ron just couldn’t comprehend why it was him. He had to ask. “Why?”

“Why?” Scorpius cocked his head to the side. “Why I like you?”

Ron’s voice had disappeared, so he nodded.

“Do I have to have a reason?” Scorpius asked.

“Well . . . ”

“I remember the first time I saw you. It was the end of my first year. Rose dragged me over to introduce you and me. That glare you gave me left quite an impact on me. Though it was filled with hostility, I recall thinking you were really passionate, and you easily displayed your emotions compared to most people. After that, you never failed to greet me with a glare or some sort of a negative emotion. I found myself . . . I found myself falling for you that way.”

Ron gave Scorpius an incredulous look. “Blimey . . . I reckon you’re a bit mad.”

“If I’m mad, then will you be my therapy?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, I see. You want me to clarify . . . ” Scorpius traced a finger down Ron’s cheek. “I want you, Mr Weasley. I want to suck your cock and taste you since I’m sure you would taste much better than that lolly. I want you to mark me with that wondrous lip of yours, and I want you to get acquainted with Guto on my back.”

Ron felt himself turn harder and harder under his robes as Scorpius’ sensual voice washed over him. He reached out to grab Scorpius by the hip, pulling and grinding their groins together. Scorpius’ moan was like music, and Ron groaned in response. “Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah,” Scorpius continued in a breathy voice. “After all that, I want you to prepare me with your thick fingers. I want them to touch that spot that will make me see colours and abstract designs. Then, when I’m all slick and stretched, I want your cock. I want that hard, pulsating rod in me, and I want you to pound me into the mattress until I cannot walk. I want us to come together. I want you to fuck me, Mr Weasley. I want it now.”

Whatever remaining self-control in Ron broke as he growled and practically zoomed them into his room where he set all sort of silencing and locking charms. He was ready to do all that stuff Scorpius mentioned and more. He was ready to surrender to his lust, and he was not going to let his conscience or anything else stop him from his goal.

Well, almost. He had to ask and make sure one last thing. “You sure about this?”

Scorpius nodded, tugging his t-shirt over his head. “Yes, and I would hope this is not a one-night stand.”

Ron glowered. “And I would hope you don’t see me as that type of person.”

“Of course not. I know you’re an honourable man.”

“And you’re quite manipulative. Are you sure you’re a Ravenclaw?” Ron asked in the midst of kissing that pale neck he fantasised about for days.

“Yeah, but I’ll tell you that the hat did want to put me in Slytherin. So I guess I’m a Slytherclaw of some sort?”

“Whatever,” Ron said, now pulling on Scorpius’ jeans. “We’ll discuss house affiliation later.”

“Fine by me. Now, let’s do it.”

Epilogus (Epilogue)

“Pay up,” Hugo said.

Teddy, Albus, and James all grumbled as they handed the money to Hugo while Rose shook her head in the background. “I can’t believe you guys are all betting on my best mate and my father like that.”

Hugo looked over at her and said, “He’s my father, too, so it’s okay, right?”

Rose rolled her eyes and went outside, muttering about how stupidity can be contagious with boys.

Ron, hiding in the shadows by the doorway, shook his head and muttered, “Looks like Hugo needs some morality lessons from his grandparents . . . might not be a bad idea to make him go to church every week with them.”

Scorpius leaned close and whispered, “You could, but where’s the fun in that? Would you really deprive your one and only son some fun in his life?”

“Yes! Especially if my son gambles over my private life like this.”

“Hmm. Well, maybe I can do something to distract you from his way of life?”

Even in the dimness, Ron could see Scorpius’ hazel eyes glint with desire, and that soon made his own lust come forth once again. Licking his dry lips, he said, “I’m not against that idea.”

“Good! Now, stop fretting about those seven deadly sins of yours and let’s move this to somewhere more private. Unless you want to do it here and now — if you’d like an audience.”

Ron growled softly and pushed Scorpius towards the stairs. “Stop making weird suggestions.”

“Then why don’t you shut me up, King Weasley?”

Memories of his fifth year came to his head, and Ron said, “I’ll shut you up. Just don’t ever call me that again!” And Ron did shut Scorpius up with a long, deep kiss.

Ending Notes

– This is the griffin that gave me inspiration for Scorpius’ tattoo! http://s.bebo.com/app-image/7933910923/5411656627/PROFILE/i.quizzaz.com/img/q/u/08/04/12/Griffin.jpg
– According to babynames.com, Guto means “Griffin lord” in Welsh.

“What!? What are you saying, Albus Severus Potter?”

“I said I’m in love with Scorpius Malfoy and that we are moving into a flat together after we finish our schoolings at Hogwarts.”

Harry stepped back on his heels as if he’d been slapped. This was not how he expected the Christmas holidays to go. All three of his children had come back home, and he and Ginny had been looking forward to it. Their Christmas day went well, with all the Weasleys, Professor Longbottom, Professor Lovegood, and even Teddy Lupin coming to Grimmauld 12 to celebrate the festivities.

Now, after the obligatory Christmas dinner, Harry decided to pull his middle child off into a spare room. He had noticed his son’s withdrawn attitude and decided to ask what was bothering him.

Unfortunately, Harry simply wasn’t expecting the new turn of events.

“I refuse to accept it,” Harry said, turning off to the side, clenching his fists.

“Dad, please. I cannot help how I feel about Scorpius. He and I — we love each other, Dad.”

Harry counted to twenty before he answered. “You know, I accepted the fact that you were sorted into Slytherin. I accepted the friendship between you and Scorpius — a Malfoy of all people — and I accepted your choice of career, going into a business with Scorpius, but this rubbish about you and him being lovers is just simply preposterous! I cannot accept this!” He finally managed a look at his son, the son who looked the most like him. The son who inherited Lily Potter’s green eyes.

He looked into those green eyes, the ones that usually sparkled with bright energy, its colour like a deeply set emerald. Right now it was overcast and dull, filled with a mixture of deep sadness and frustration. He watched his son take a deep breath.

“Dad, while you have every right to be upset about my confession, I don’t think it’s right that your repressed emotions and desires towards Mr. Malfoy should be directed to me.”

Harry, shocked, opened his mouth wide. “Wh — how — What are you blabbering about?!”

Albus just sighed and shook his head. “Still in denial, Dad? Don’t be. I know you had this thing for Mr. Malfoy, but you chose not to accept them, shoving your desires away. With all due respect, Dad, I cannot do that. I cannot follow your footsteps. But then again, ever since I was sorted into Slytherin, I stopped living in your shadows.” He smiled faintly at his father before it disappeared. “Dad, I really do want your approvals. It means so much to me. I am thankful that you have supported me all through these years even if I didn’t go to Gryffindor. But I cannot hide myself anymore and especially not from you or Mum.”

A long silence passed between them before Harry said, “Leave. I need some time to think about this.”

“Yes.” Albus accepted his father’s wishes and went back to the gathering to say his farewells to his family and friends before leaving.

Harry leaned against the wall after his son’s departure. His son’s words brought back memories of his times in Hogwarts. The days of hanging out with Ron and Hermione, and the days of arguing and fighting with Draco, the tension so high between them. Many a time Harry had felt the tension as a sexual one, but instead of following up on it, he had shoved them away like his son perceptively stated.

Still in his denial and shock, Harry accioed a bottle of firewhiskey and a shot glass. Sinking into a nearby chair, he drank a shot of the burning alcohol and stared off into the night, not returning back to the party.

Albus Apparated into Hogsmeade, clutching his bag full of Christmas gifts. Snow was softly falling, the cold air feeling good after the confrontation with his father. He walked into an inn, and when he heard from the innkeeper that his “friend” was already here, Albus walked into the room. Upon entering, he saw Scorpius Malfoy sitting on the bed, with his back against the headboard. Closing the door, Albus put his bag down and rushed into Scorpius’ opened arms.

“I take it that your father’s response was predictable?” Scorpius murmured against Albus’ messy but soft locks. “My father as well. For two different people, they sure can act like identical twins.”

“Yes, but I think our statement about them repressing their feelings for each other will make him think. Your prediction about those two was right on target. How did you know?” Albus backed away a bit to look into Scorpius’ face.

“It’s all psychology. I haven’t made it a hobby without studying it intently, you know.” Scorpius smirked.

“Oh, you.” Albus leaned forward and softly kissed his blonde-haired lover before he backed away to look adoringly at Scorpius.

“I do admit that I thought you weren’t going to come. I thought your father would somehow convince you to forget about me.”

Albus blinked at Scorpius’ fleeting moment of insecurity. “This coming from someone who claims he’s a Malfoy and that Malfoy always conquer what they want?”

Scorpius flushed at his lover’s teasing comment. “Oh, fuck off.”

“I would love to, with you of course.” Albus grinned but then he became serious again. “You know I wouldn’t leave you just because someone doesn’t approve. Even if I was locked up in a room, I’d figure a way to escape to come to you.”

Scorpius looked into the passion-filled green eyes and nodded. “I know. Your loyalty is one of the things that I love about you.”

“Then prove it,” Albus said, his voice husky. “Show me.”

Scorpius pulled Albus into a deep kiss. Albus melted into the kiss, with Scorpius’ tongue exploring his mouth. He felt himself be gently manoeuvred on the bed, his back against the soft mattress, with his lover’s long, lean body covering him protectively. Soon, he needed air, so he broke the kiss and panted breathlessly as he stared up at Scorpius.

“I love you, Scorpius. And Happy Christmas.”