Albus wasn't sure why it took him so long to finally notice Scorpius Malfoy. He supposed part of it was the fact that Scorpius was just another "Slytherin git". And then there was the whole Malfoy issue. Albus had been raised with random tales about Draco Malfoy, his father's boyhood nemesis. With Albus being who he was, such stories should have caused him to seek out Scorpius Malfoy sooner.

Nevertheless, Albus had always thought of Scorpius (when he thought of him at all) as nothing more than a pale shadow tucked amongst the larger, darker Slytherins. Scorpius was very good at potions and Charms, but was in no other fashion memorable.

At least until their sixth year at Hogwarts. Two weeks into the year, their Muggle Studies teacher took her job too seriously by eloping with a Muggle and moving to Denmark. Since professors knowledgeable in Muggle affairs were in short supply, but Muggleborn students were not, it was decided that students would teach the class with the guidance of adult volunteers. It was a novel approach, but it required some judicious class-shuffling to ascertain that all students received the benefit of the Muggle-born students.

Since Slytherin House had a notable lack of Muggleborns, they were divided up and placed into classes with the other houses. Thus, Albus ended up with Scorpius Malfoy as his partner in Muggle Studies.

"Potter," Scorpius said carefully on their first day in the new class when Albus slid into the seat next to him.

"Malfoy," Albus replied in a friendly tone. He figured there was no sense in antagonizing the boy, who was far more attractive than Albus recalled. In fact, Al couldn't remember seeing him this close up before.

They studied each other warily. Scorpius had silver-blond hair that frequently fell over one grey eye, forcing him to either reach up and comb it back with his fingers, or jut out his lower lip and give it a puff of air to blow it out of the way.

Al watched with interest as Scorpius did the latter, admiring the curve of those lips as they moved. He kept watching them as Scorpius spoke. "This class is going to be shit, isn't it?"

Albus nodded. "Probably."

He dragged his attention away from his new study partner in order to focus on the nervous-looking student at the front of the class—a fellow Ravenclaw whose keen intellect was spoiled by her complete inability to put together a coherent sentence. Albus sighed.

For the remainder of the lesson, he stole glances at Scorpius, who was far more interesting than Melinda Watkins. He had fine cheekbones and a straight nose, turned slightly up at the tip. His chin was a bit pointy, but it only served to make his face more heart-shaped, although Albus realized thinking about hearts and Scorpius Malfoy together was a recipe for disaster.

He forced himself to focus on Melinda Watkins as she tried to explain the concept of Muggle airplanes, but her repetitive use of "um" and her annoying habit of twisting the ends of her blue and bronze tie pushed his attention back to Scorpius, this time to take in his fascinating hands. Hands that were doodling on a piece of parchment.

Scorpius' fingers were long and slender, with knuckles that could only be described as kissable. Al shifted uncomfortably when he realized where his thoughts were leading him. He had realized two years ago that boys were far more interesting than girls when it came to daydreaming and wank material, although he usually confined his attention to the fit specimens found in his Quidditch magazine subscriptions.

Albus was something of a black sheep in the Potter family. He did not play Quidditch like his brother and sister. He excelled at Potions. He loved books and art and playing chess with his Uncle Ron. And he liked boys. Albus might have been criminally depressed if not for the firm support of his brother, whose arse he had saved numerous times during James' OWLS by forcing study techniques into his pathetic Gryffindor brain.

When James had caught him wanking to an autographed photo of the Puddlemere United Seeker, who was a blond Adonis, James had only said, "It's like that, then? Well, if anyone gives you a hard time over it, I'll kick their fucking arses so hard the term 'shit for brains' will have new meaning, yeah?" Lily was so Quidditch-obsessed she rarely noticed that Al existed unless she needed help with her homework.

Scorpius finished his doodle, drawing Albus out of his reverie. It was a caricature of Melinda Watkins strangling her tie. Albus choked on a laugh and covered it with a pretend coughing fit, drawing the attention of most of the class. "Sorry," he said and made a show of Conjuring a glass and filling it with water that he gulped down.

When the class attention had reverted back to their usual stupor of boredom, Albus turned to Scorpius, who was watching him in bemusement.

"You're brilliant, you are," Albus whispered and took the drawing. "Can I have it?"

Scorpius looked even more fetching when he blushed. He blew his hair out of his eyes and nodded and Albus took the first of his many drawings by Scorpius Malfoy, rolled it carefully, and secured it in his knapsack.

Studious, gay, and now falling for Scorpius Malfoy. Albus was a Potter outcast for certain. He only hoped his father wouldn't disown him.

~oOo~

It only took three weeks for Albus and Scorpius to become almost inseparable. From Muggle Studies, Albus took to hanging around with Scorpius near the lake, watching him sketch trees and mountains and fanciful pictures of mermaids and unicorns, with occasional trolls rending maidens and dripping blood from their spiked clubs—although those were infrequent and tended to spill out when Scorpius was having a bad day.

Albus collected them all and babbled to Scorpius while he drew. He talked about growing up with a famous father, he talked about his siblings; he talked about potions and puzzles and Astronomy. It occurred to him later that he had never had a friend to confide in, not really, and it was easy to confide in Scorpius Malfoy, who never said a word in judgement. In fact, he seldom said a word at all. He just listened and sketched.

One day they were sitting in a hallway near Ravenclaw Tower, propped against the wall while Scorpius sketched the gothic windows opposite them. Albus bounced a green rubber ball across the floor, over and over, catching it as it rebounded from the wall before tossing it again. For once, he was quiet, and the only sounds were the scratching of Scorpius' quill and the repetitive thump thump thump of Al's ball.

"My parents fight a lot," Scorpius said.

Al froze for a moment with the ball in his hand, and then he released it, pretending the words hadn't jolted him. Scorpius never talked about himself and Albus was burning with curiosity.

"Mine, too," Albus murmured and caught the ball, hoping his noncommittal response would keep Scorpius talking.

"I think they might get a divorce."

Albus threw the ball harder than he should have and it came back quickly, forcing him to snatch it out of the air before it pelted him in the face.

Scorpius snorted a laugh. "Nice reflexes. You should have been a Seeker."

Albus held the ball and rolled his eyes. "I don't like to fly. Um… what will you do if they divorce?" He gripped the ball tightly. Divorce was a terrifying thing. His parents had brought it up more than once during a few screaming fights, but they had always made up after. Divorce meant change and for the first time in his life Albus did not want change. He wanted everything to stay just as it was.

"I don't know. Mother will probably go back to France. She loves it there."

"And… you?" Albus murmured, dreading the response.

Scorpius only shrugged and resumed sketching.

~oOo~

Two weeks later, Al's bubble of happiness popped.

"I'm moving to France," Scorpius blurted without preamble as they left the Muggle Studies classroom. He had been quieter than usual all morning and had not drawn so much as a doodle, creating a sense of dread in Albus that was only magnified by the words.

Albus stared at him in horror, not wanting to believe it.

Scorpius nodded. "My parents are divorcing and Mother insists that I come with her. She threatened to take me away from Father forever if he didn't agree." His voice was bitter. "I'm not seventeen yet and don't have a choice. This way, I'll get to spend summers with Father, at least until I'm old enough to choose my own bloody school." Scorpius stopped talking, voice rough. It was the most emotion Albus had ever seen from him.

"So, a few months at Beauxbatons, summer at home, and then back to Hogwarts for my final year. That's not so bad, yeah?" Scorpius glanced at him and then away.

Albus did not even know what to say. He had looked forward to getting to know Scorpius in the next few months. It was only October! It wasn't fair. And at another school, in another country, Scorpius would make new friends. He would probably forget all about Albus.

"When?" Albus asked, his voice a choked whisper.

"We leave this weekend. Friday will be my last day here."

Albus felt gutted. That only gave him four days. Four days to tell Scorpius how he felt about him.

~oOo~

Al's admission never came. He barely saw Scorpius, who was always busy talking to professors and the Headmistress in order to have his information transferred to Beauxbatons. Albus was nearly frantic with the need to spend time with him.

And then in their rare moments together, mostly during Muggles Studies, which was now a useless class for Scorpius, since they did not have an equivalent in France, Albus found himself simply staring at Scorpius' hands while they drew abstract doodles that seemed to reflect the turmoil his life had become.

Albus watched Scorpius form boxes that became checkers and swirls that turned into meaningless spirals—nothing like the treasured portraits and landscapes and fanciful drawings that filled one section of Albus' trunk in his room.

Whenever Scorpius turned his beautiful grey eyes on Albus, his ability to speak seemed to dry up. Albus desperately wanted to tell him something—anything. He wanted to beg him to stay. He wanted to admit that he had grown incredibly fond of Scorpius in their short time together. He wanted to tell Scorpius that he was gorgeous and talented and brilliant. He wanted to take Scorpius in his arms and kiss him until the pain disappeared.

Instead he just smiled weakly and looked away, rationalizing that it was better this way. Scorpius didn't think of him that way, and they were barely friends. Scorpius probably wouldn't even miss him very much and there was no sense in embarrassing them both with silly declarations.

Friday came with blinding swiftness and Albus felt almost numb with sadness as he made his way one last time to the Slytherin dungeons. Scorpius was just exiting the common room when Albus arrived. Scorpius was to meet Headmistress McGonagall in the Great Hall and she would escort him to the train station for the journey back to London.

"Where are your other friends?" Albus asked, thinking it strange that Scorpius' Slytherin friends were not planning to see him off. None of them seemed particularly close to Scorpius, but they were his friends and housemates, after all.

"I saw them off inside. Told them I didn't want to see them cry." A small smile curved his lips and Albus smiled in return, although his throat felt tight at the words and he thought it more likely that Scorpius didn't want his housemates to see Albus cry.

"I'll walk you up," Albus said.

They made their way to the foot of the stairs, moving slowly. Albus began to panic, knowing this might be his last chance to say something meaningful. Words raced through his mind, most of them discarded as being pathetically sappy.

He stopped. "Damn it, Scorpius, I—"

Albus suddenly found himself wrapped in a hard embrace. He froze in surprise as warm lips pressed against his, locking there for a only moment before pulling away. Pulling away! Albus realized with a jolt that he couldn't let that happen, so he curved his arms around Scorpius and held him tightly, following his lips and deepening the kiss. His heart was pounding wildly, unable to quite believe that Scorpius had kissed him!

Scorpius relaxed and shifted even closer before tilting his head slightly and parting his lips. The kiss changed, becoming something that could not even vaguely be called platonic. Al's tongue found its way between Scorpius' parted lips and then their tongues met and caressed.

Albus could not get enough. He licked and sucked and lapped at Scorpius' mouth until he thought he might explode from the tangled sensation of lust and need, overshadowed with despair, because Scorpius was still leaving and now it would be even worse.

Finally, Scorpius pulled away—seemed to tear himself away—and stepped back. His eyes were wide and dazed-looking and his lips were wet from Al's kisses. Al took a step forward, wanting to hold him for just a bit longer, or possibly forever, but Scorpius turned and bolted up the stairs, leaving Albus to stare after him in bewilderment.

Did Scorpius regret kissing him? By the time Albus recovered and raced up the stairs, Scorpius was gone.

~oOo~

Albus,

I have arrived at Beauxbatons. Things here are very strange. It is hard to get used to speaking French all the time, but I suppose that will get easier. There are many girls in this school. Apparently it was an all-girls school until some social upheaval required them to allow boys, but due to tradition most of the boys still go to Champlain in Versailles. It bloody figures.

My classes are similar to Hogwarts. We have all the usual subjects like Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and Arithmancy, but they also have Mystical Art! So far it is the only redeeming grace to being in this bloody place. They have been studying Runecrafting since school started, so I have a lot of work to do to catch up. I will write more as time permits.

Scorpius

PS (I am enclosing some drawings of the school.)

Albus reread the letter a dozen times, searching for some sign of affection or secret message that he might have missed, but there was nothing. He was almost relieved that Scorpius was surrounded by girls; perhaps the temptation to seek out another boy to befriend would be reduced.

The drawings were spectacular, possibly Scorpius' best yet. One showed the school from a distance, all jutting, pointed turrets and sprawling buttresses. The next showed a cramped-looking bedchamber with a wood-topped canopy bed. A third was a skilful rendition of a huge fountain with water jets arching from side to side. Scorpius had written on that one: I miss Hogwarts' lake.

Albus rolled each of the drawings carefully and added them to his collection. Then he sat down at the desk and grabbed parchment and a quill.

Dear Scorpius,

I miss you. Kissing you was the best moment of my entire life and I replay the memory so often I could fill ten Pensieves with it. I wish

Albus picked up his wand and Incinerated the message. Obviously, Scorpius had kissed him out of impulse and he likely regretted it. Maybe it had been some experiment, or maybe he just knew Albus was pining for him and wanted to give him a final gift. Albus was dying to ask, but since Scorpius had not mentioned it he felt it best to ignore it, as well. At least he was still willing to be friends.

Scorpius,

I'm glad to hear you have settled in. Things are boring here. I have not been assigned a new partner in Muggle Studies, which is fine with me. Lily is obsessing over the upcoming Quidditch match. I am secretly rooting for Hufflepuff, except she will be an emotional, angry bint for a month if Gryffindor loses. Still, it might be better than her overweeningly egocentric outbursts.

Does Beauxbatons have different Houses, like Hogwarts? Good luck with your Mystical Arts thing. Thank you for the drawings. They are amazing, as always. Send more, if you can.

Albus

He sighed as he read it over, thinking it sounded very dry, without a hint of the angst that had been eating up his soul. It almost surprised him how much he missed Scorpius' presence. After all, he had survived five full years at Hogwarts without his friendship.

And yet, the days seemed dull without Scorpius at his side with his ever-present drawing pad and quills. Albus found himself pulling out the drawings on a near-daily basis, thinking of Scorpius' hand sketching each one with sure strokes of his lovely fingers.

~oOo~

Albus,

Beauxbatons does not have Houses. There is no competition and everything is this wretched shade of blue. I refuse to even show you the hat I am required to wear with this ridiculous robe.

They have only three Quidditch teams. L'équipe Un, L'équipe Deux, L'équipe Trois. Yes, that would be Team One, Team Two, and Team Three. I am not joking. They rotate playing each other in order to pass around this lame trophy that simply moves from one case to another in the "Vestibule". It's pointless and they all politely congratulate each other after every win. It's revolting.

I have made a friend. Her name is Samantha and she is a transplant like me. She grew up in Cornwall and was sorted into Hufflepuff. She is a year ahead of us and moved to France before we were Sorted. Don't laugh that my only friend is a former Hufflepuff. I am enclosing a sketch of her.

Scorpius

Albus looked at the drawing of a round-faced girl wearing something of a silly-looking pointed hat. She had long hair braided into two long plaits. Albus was relieved. She did not look like anyone that Scorpius would be interested in. Not that he had any idea what sort of girl—or boy—would interest Scorpius. He didn't even know if Scorpius was interested in him, despite the kiss.

There were two other drawings, one of an owlery with tall Gothic windows, and another very rough sketch of a Quidditch pitch with near-stick figures mounted on brooms and a caption that read LAME!

Albus smiled and composed a reply that consisted of meaningless commentary about his classes, complaints about his housemates, and commiseration regarding Beauxbaton's Quidditch methods. He was slightly less depressed after writing and made sure to give mental thanks that at least Scorpius was keeping in touch. Albus didn't know what he would do if he stopped writing.

~oOo~

Halloween brought sweets and pranks and another letter from Scorpius, this one with drawings of pumpkins and black cats, the Eiffel Tower, a quaint-looking French café, and three drawings of people—one more of Samantha, one of a stern-looking professor with a severe bun and a horselike face, and one of a pensive-looking boy that was labelled only Martin.

Albus agonized over his reply, unable to form words that did not consist of "who is Martin?" With six question marks after it. And heavy lines beneath. In the end, he managed another dry letter describing the decorations in the Great Hall, recapping the last Quidditch match, and finally adding a simple PS (Who is Martin?) Without added question marks or even a single underline.

It was with some pride, albeit perhaps a broken heart, that he tied the letter to a school owl and sent it away.

~oOo~

Albus,

I went to the All Hallow's Ball with Samantha. She said she was glad to have a boy to go with. Due to the limited number of gents in this school, most of the girls end up with one another. It was dreadfully boring, with a live band that played tunes from forty years ago. I danced with Samantha twice, mainly to make the bloke she is interested in jealous. I'm not sure it worked, since I think she's only worked up the courage to speak to him twice and he doesn't seem to know she exists.

Did Hogwarts have a ball this year? You didn't mention it. Also, if you make it to Hogsmeade, will you grab me some Droobles Best? They don't sell it here. I'm enclosing a Galleon to pay for it.

Scorpius

PS (Martin is some bloke in my Potions class.)

"Some bloke in Potions," Albus muttered. He crumpled the letter in a rage before cringing and smoothing it out again, carefully. He folded it and placed it with the others, tying it carefully with a green ribbon.

Scorpius had only sent one drawing this time—a slender bloke leaning against a wall, wearing a stylized masque bedecked with feathers. Albus wondered if it was Martin also, and nearly tore the picture to shreds.

He restrained the impulse and rolled it up before putting it away, planning to never look at that one again.

~oOo~

November and December passed with only three more letters from Scorpius. His classes were increasingly difficult, he mentioned, and he rarely had time to draw. Albus received a single sketch in late November. It was a sombre scene of snow-topped roofs, possibly the view from an upper storey of Scorpius' school.

Scorpius mentioned he would be visiting his father over Christmas and Albus tried to think of a way to invite him over, except that inviting a Malfoy into the house would probably cause more drama than it was worth. He wasn't sure he wanted to introduce Scorpius to his mad family, anyway, especially when his cousins would be in attendance during the holidays.

Scorpius already knew Rose and Hugo, but it was one thing to see them at school and quite another to see them sniping at one another across the dinner table.

Albus settled for an open-ended, "Maybe I'll see you when you're here for the holidays?" and left the Quaffle in Scorpius' hands. Unfortunately, he received no more letters before he left Hogwarts and boarded the train to return home.

He moped around the house for two days before Lily bounced into his room and tore the book out of his hands.

"I was reading that!" he yelled.

"You were not. You were moping in here like some lovesick Hufflepuff. Come on, we're going to Diagon Alley."

"I'm not going anywhere," Albus said and snatched at his book, but Lily held it out of his reach.

"You are. I know for a fact you haven't bought me a Christmas gift yet. I will help you pick it out."

He scowled at her. "Who says I'm getting you anything?"

She shrugged. "Fine. I'll just let you open my gift and then watch you wallow in your overwhelming guilt." She handed him the book and flipped her hair over her shoulder before arching an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, all right," Albus muttered. Bloody siblings. The hell of it was she probably had got him something spectacular. She acted like a selfish bint most of the time, but she could be irritatingly generous when she wanted something, or during holidays and birthdays.

Lily grinned at him smugly and then bounced out. Albus placed his book on the shelf and grabbed his wand with a last shudder at the thought of shopping. He still had to get James something, as well. And possibly Scorpius.

~oOo~

Diagon Alley was ridiculously festive. The person in charge of decorating must have been holiday made, because there were enough sparkling lights, mistletoe, chiming bells, red ribbon and tinsel to have old Ebenezer Scrooge dancing a merry jig. By the time Albus, Lily, his mum, and Aunt Hermione reached Madam Malkin's, even Al was feeling a bit of holiday cheer.

The three women paused at the window display and began to squeal insanely over a pair of shoes. Albus rolled his eyes.

"We need to pop in and look at those, just for a minute. Do you mind, Albus?" his mum asked, already pushing open the door.

"I'll just meet you at Flourish and Blotts, yeah?" Albus suggested and jerked his head toward the bookshop.

"Don't plan on buying my gift there," Lily warned.

Albus snorted. "As if. Do you even know how to read?" She stuck her tongue out at him and he waved her inside. In truth, he had already found her the perfect gift at Quality Quidditch Supplies. He had put it on order for Christmas Eve delivery.

With the females thus occupied, Albus strode quickly to the book store. It was cold enough that flakes of snow occasionally drifted down from the sky and he could hardly wait to enter the warmth of Flourish and Blotts in order to surround himself with the smell of parchment and binding glue.

Once inside, he nodded at the clerk, a recent graduate of Hogwarts that he only vaguely recognized, and headed for his favourite section—Ancient and Historical Charms. His favourite author had a new book out, although Albus did not dare buy it himself this close to Christmas on the off chance one of his family members had chosen it as a gift.

He reluctantly put it back on the shelf after a gentle caress of its cover. A noise drew his attention and he turned to see Scorpius Malfoy at the end of the row, staring at him as though he were a spectre.

"Scorpius?" he breathed, scarcely daring to hope.

"Albus," Scorpius said. He took four steps forward and then they were in each other's arms.

Albus buried his face in Scorpius' neck, breathing in the scent of him. His hair was somewhat longer and Albus thought he might have grown taller and yet more slender. The changes registered only minutely, overwhelmed as they were in the knowledge that Scorpius was here, not only in the same country and city, but in Al's arms.

He drew back only enough to look into Scorpius' eyes. To his amazement, he saw something there, a question that could only be answered one way.

Albus kissed him.

It was not like their first kiss. That one had been tentative and slightly terrifying. This one was needy and raw and full of frustrated longing. Albus was not the most experienced kisser, but he used all of his knowledge and more to plunder Scorpius' mouth, holding his face tenderly in his hands while he licked the lingering taste of peppermint from Scorpius' lips and tongue.

Scorpius gave as good as he received, skating his hands through Al's hair and meeting his tongue thrust for thrust, sucking and biting at Al's lips as if he couldn't taste enough of him.

They ended up with Scorpius pressed against a shelf of books and Al between his legs, groins together, hot and heavy with need. Albus wanted to rut against him, needing more, so much more. The wood began to creak alarmingly and Albus vaguely wondered if the whole structure would go toppling down.

Scorpius nipped at his lips, breathing hard, and his fingers convulsed in Al's hair. Albus decided the whole bloody place could come down around them and he wouldn't care. Scorpius, Merlin, Scorpius was here, in his arms, delicious and willing and…

Loud throat clearing finally penetrated the fog that substituted for Albus' rationality. He stopped kissing Scorpius and turned his head to blink at the person who stood with crossed arms glaring at them.

It was Al's mother.

"Albus, when you've finished, and I do hope you've finished, I trust you will join me at Amelia's for a chat?" Her stare brooked no argument.

Albus nodded. "Yes, mum."

"And bring your friend," she added.

With that, she turned and departed. Albus sighed and then gazed at Scorpius, who looked purely edible with his grey eyes half-lidded and mouth open and—

Albus kissed him again, but Scorpius only allowed it for a short time before struggling out of Al's grip and holding him at arm's length. "Wait, that was your mum? That was Harry Potter's wife?"

Albus nodded and Scorpius looked worried. "Is she going to hex me into a small rodent and have me exterminated?"

Albus wrapped his hand around Scorpius' wrist and tugged him closer. "No, I'll protect you." He frowned. "Why didn't you ever mention that kiss at Hogwarts? And why did you run off like that?"

Scorpius's cheeks went red. "I didn't know if you wanted me. I thought it was mad to throw myself at you like that, so I didn't bring it up in my first letter. So when you didn't talk about it, I just assumed you wanted to forget it…"

Albus dragged him closer and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Now that he had Scorpius, he planned never to let him go. Even the bloody English Channel couldn't separate them, now.

"And who is Martin?"

"Martin who?"

"The bloke you sent me a drawing of."

Scorpius laughed. "Didn't I tell you? Martin is the bloke Samantha is mooning over. He's in my Potions class. Bit of a twat, if you ask me. I keep hoping she'll fall for this chap in Arithmancy who adores her. Been trying to set them up. Shouldn't we go before your mum gets any angrier?" Scorpius looked worried, but he did not try to pull away from Al's embrace.

Albus pressed another kiss against his lips. "She's not angry, just surprised. It's a good sign. If she was angry, this place would be in flames. We should probably go, though. You're coming over sometime this holiday, yeah?"

He took Scorpius hand and led him toward the door.

"Come hell or high water," Scorpius replied. 

End