ethelnorthbrook

original fiction news

farida@normaplus.com — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 10:01:12 GMT

You must have noticed my complete lack of fanfic-related updates. It's due to the fact that I have taken up original slash writing and a few days ago I heard from an e-publishing house I submitted my manuscript to saying that they are going to publish my story! I am so happy and excited and I still cannot believe it!

Ficlet: What He Wants

farida@normaplus.com — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 08:41:04 GMT

Title: What He Wants
Pairings: off-page Charlie/Harry (don’t ask), possible Draco/Harry (not in this fic though)
Word Count: 1310
Summary: Draco Malfoy recounts how some years after Hogwarts he seeks out Harry Potter in order to become his friend and how shocked he is by what he finds in place of his once-time nemesis.
Warnings: angst, mpreg, OCs, no epilogue
Author’s Notes: Totally random, weird ficlet. I don’t know where it came from.

It came as nothing short of a shock when a few months after he entered the Auror training programme, Harry Potter withdrew from the training and left England. The whole wizarding community was in uproar over the sudden disappearance of their Boy Wonder and the rumours that started flying around with the speed of a Firebolt one unlikelier than the other was as can well be expected on such an occasion. In fact the number of owls that turned up knocked out – showering the streets with their exhausted, feather-on-end bodies to the great bewildered of Muggles – by the sheer amount of letters that they had to deliver in the days that followed the news was so great that the Ministry had to hastily pass an Owl Protection Act.

However, when the actual truth finally broke the surface it sent ripples of displeasure and disappointment with Potter so great that he was soon given up as a bad job and was talked of no more, unless his name was dragged forward to serve as a synonym for something stupid, distasteful or foolhardy. It transpired that Potter, probably in his post-victory haze, jumped on a partying bandwagon and got himself knocked up. He must have been very confused among all that red-hair and freckles and did not appear to realize that he was shagging a bloke and not a She-Weasel, though the rumour had it that they had broken it off before he walked off to have his ultimate face-off with the Dark Lord.

He left for Romania, thus identifying the father of his future child as Charlie Weasley the dragon keeper and was seen no more. I don’t know why it bothered me so much that Potter had once again fallen out of grace with the wizarding world. We certainly weren’t friends. But maybe that was it. I always wanted to be Potter’s friend. For wrong, selfish reasons most of the time. But then I want to believe that I’ve come along way since that train ride. I actually can think of Potter and unfair in the same sentence now. I hated that the Ministry once again adopted the policy of Potter-bashing because he didn’t become their prized Auror and Ministry of Magic wannabe and that’s how I knew that I was in trouble. I had to see Potter. So I decided to pay him a visit even though there was a big chance that he would hex me on sight.

He lives outside a Muggle village, far enough to allow him to use magic undetected I suppose, in a two-storey house with a small garden overflowing with flowers and weeds. I am not surprised to see a group of ugly potato-like gnomes making their way from one bush to another. No one is at home and I wait. I stand just off the lane that leads up to the front door. I don’t want to startle him and frankly I don’t know what to expect. I have this picture in my mind that he has turned savage and I have to question my sanity. Why am I here, anyway? To have my offer of friendship rejected once again?

Before I decide to Disapparate I hear an excited chatter and a moment later two girls – of about six or seven – and Potter appear on top of the hill that so far impeded my view of them. They don’t see me as they make their way down the lane with food baskets too deep in whatever conversation they are having. Potter nods absent-mindedly when they address him. I can’t help staring at him. By Salazar he is thin! And pale. His hair is a mess. His clothes – a complete disaster: loose sweatshirt and pants. He starts weaving his wand and the gates and the door instantly open before them, some of the creeping flowers withdraw their vines from the ground and they pass. It was a good thinking not to get too near the place.

They still don’t see me, probably because I had moved to stand in the shade of the nearby tree, so I step out and call him. He stops in his tracks, his wand at the ready, alertness in his every muscle. He might have given up becoming an Auror but his reflexes are as good as ever. He looks around and when he sees me he gives me a startled look that instantly turns suspicious. But he hasn’t hexed me yet so I take it as a good sign. He quickly ushers the girls inside as if he fears that I’m about to attack them and then turns back to me.

I don’t dare approach, move, least he unleashes his magic on me. But he just looks. So I maintain eye-contact, trying to communicate that I bear no ill will. I’m not sure he believes his eyes and for a moment I fear that he will march into the house and put the enchantments back in place. ‘Malfoy.’ he says at last. ‘What are you doing here?’ He sounds curious and weary, but not hostile. I move forward. I have no wish to shout, even if there is no one else around. He doesn’t draw back his wand and it is still directed at me. ‘I came to see you. To talk to you.’ He looks surprised, then he lowers his wand and I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘That is unexpected.’ He shrugs, uncertain. ‘Welcome, I reckon.’ I walk cautiously after him and watch as the vines retreat once again.

The place looks neat and unassuming. I follow him to the kitchen where the girls have left the baskets that he starts to unpack with successive waves of his wand so that for a while the kitchen is filled with products and items wheezing around the place while cupboards and drawers open to let them in. Then he takes some pots and pans and I realize that he is about to star cooking. ‘So, what did you want to talk about?’ he asks and places a teapot and a plate of cakes before me. It is disturbing to see Potter at it and I wait for him to put on some flowery sort of apron at any moment now. He doesn’t.

The cakes are delicious and I ask him if he was the one to cook them. He rolls his eyes and asks me if he sees anyone else here. I shrug and then before I know it I start asking him about his life and how he ended up in this forsaken place. You don’t need to be a Legilimens to understand that he is not happy. The most astonishing thing is that he is telling me. We are both past the point of animosity. It’s kind of nice actually. We even have a few laughs. We swap random apologies. All throughout our conversation he is busy cooking or helping his daughters with one thing or another.

I notice that he often looks out of the window and when he does so his eyes turn worried, troubled. I can’t help asking him about his future plans. Surely, he doesn’t mean to stay here for the rest of his life? He sighs and then points at himself. I look and how have I not noticed it before? For all that he is so thin, there’s no doubt about the fact that he is well on his way to have another child. If anything, it makes him unhappier still. ‘What do you want?’ he asks me. I tell him that I want to be his friend. ‘Oh. OK. I’d like that.’

He walks with me up the hill, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his head bent low. I say good-bye and walk away. I know that I will come back. I have to. I want to.

original fiction help

farida@normaplus.com — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 19:03:32 GMT

I had a real blast writing fics this year. I wrote two Harry/Scorpius fics (my new favourite pairing!) and one Harry/Draco and I have about seven more fics standing in line, waiting to be written. And I plan on writing them at some point.

But.

I am also writing original fiction and until now it different greatly from my fanfics in that there was nothing slashy about it. I never dreamt that I would be able to come up with a fully-fledged plot that would involve two male protagonists. Funnily enough, all it took was to put my mind to it and now I have main characters, supporting characters, the plot and even something like intrigue.

But.

As it is my first time writing male/male romance, I really could use some outside help and advice. I know it’s too much to ask, but if anyone is interested in reading through my work (which is very small as of yet), giving me critique, etc., please look below the cut for the details.

The novel is set in Regency England, 1814. I’m a crazy Regency fan and a purist too. In the main, it is going to be a traditional Regency romance (the way I see it, anyway), but with the slight difference that it will be about the developing relationship between two males; that is not to say that I won’t have het pairings there. If you have any questions or want to help me, e-mail me at odessa_collie_green@yahoo.com. Thank you!

Fic: Payment, part 5

farida@normaplus.com — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 13:37:10 GMT

Title: Payment, part 5
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4543
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: A few months after the first payment, Malfoy’s obsession with Harry’s humiliation is as strong as ever. He keeps him on a short leash and pushes him into things that make Harry’s skin crawl with shame and disgust. However, when Malfoy goes a step too far and tries to set Ron against him, Harry understands the real reason behind Malfoy’s actions and decides to use it to his advantage.
Warnings: cross-dressing, non-con, unrequited Harry/Ron, hints of the Epilogue

Payment, part 5

Ron snarled and the box of merchandize that he had been levitating fell with a crash and a great deal of pain on his foot. This of course did nothing to make Ron feel any more charitable to one Draco Malfoy who swaggered into the joke shop the next moment as if he owned the bloody place.

‘What do you want?’ growled Ron, holding onto his foot and trying to master a spell that would deal with the mess at the same time. ‘If Harry sent you here, you can save your breath and leave before I hex you.’

Malfoy smirked.

‘I haven’t been doing anyone’s bidding for years, Weasley. If you ever cared to read anything beyond The Sport Section in the Daily Prophet you would have a much clearer idea of my position in the wizarding community these days. And I would hold back those threats too – hexing a Ministry official is a punishable offence as you very well know.’

Ron snarled and addressed the issue of the scattered goods instead, trying to pretend that there was no Malfoy to annoy him. It was really unwise to start a fight with the bastard and especially not when there were other customers around. He didn’t want to scare anyone with his outburst, whether magic or verbal, and gritted his teeth against the overpowering wish to fling something at Malfoy; something that would preferably give him a black-eye. There was a time when he could get away with only a detention if he was caught.

Malfoy meanwhile surveyed the shop window and then cast a lingering gaze around the shelves and stalls packed with joke shop items.

Ron’s enforced patience was wavering. He couldn’t look at Malfoy without thinking about Harry and thinking about Harry hurt. He reckoned he could live with the fact that Harry wasn’t interested in Ginny. He supposed he could even live with the fact that Harry preferred men. He winced as he recalled the glare, the tirade and a stack of books that Hermione gave him when he mentioned that it wasn’t right. Blimey, he didn’t even tell her that he thought that it was unnatural and disgusting. And the fact that it was Malfoy and that he was married… Ron just didn’t understand why Harry would be interested in someone like him…in something like this… When did his best friend turned into a shirt-lifter and why did he have to have it on with Draco bloody Malfoy of all people?

‘I’m glad you took my advice and rearranged the place.’ said Malfoy.

Ron looked at him, startled and confused. What?

‘The sight was ghastly.’ continued Malfoy with an exaggerated shudder. ‘Nothing worse than I expected from a Weasley, of course, as the lot of you is colour-blind, but I’m surprised your customers didn’t run screaming.’

Ron wanted badly to correct Malfoy’s assumption that his family were colour-blind, but that would involve violence that would scare off the kids milling abound, pointing excitedly at new products and squealing in delight when their pocket money allowed them to invest in this or that item. That’s why he grasped for a bit of information that sounded as if Malfoy had lost his marbles.

‘Your advice? What are you talking about Malfoy?’ he asked. ‘I would never take advice from you.’

‘And yet I see some impressive changes that you’ve made around the place and actually followed my tip and busted your best friend.’ continued Malfoy smugly.

He settled comfortably in an armchair and waited for the explosion.

‘You? It was you?’ asked Ron, shaking his head in denial. ‘No. It can’t be. He was nothing like you.’

Malfoy snorted.

‘Have you ever heard of magic, Weasley? Surely, the concept of changing your appearance with the use of a potion or a spell is not entirely foreign to you.’

Ron felt himself particularly slow today, but for the life of him he could not match that nice young man, who visited his shop almost every day for two weeks with Malfoy. There was nothing Malfoy-like about him. He was kind, sympathetic and – no – it just couldn’t be Malfoy. Because if it was…

‘Why?’ croaked Ron, horrified at what he had done. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘I was never one for charity, Weasley, and though my family keeps up the tradition of being very generous with our donations, it gets tedious and people get really annoying. When Potter came to me with another favour to ask, I didn’t want it to be another charitable case where I give and have nothing in return. So we made a bet. I told him that I would spare your wife from an Inquiry that would be the natural follow-up of my article, if he proved that your friendship was worth it and that I didn’t waste my time and effort on people who didn’t deserve it.’

‘I don’t understand.’ snapped Ron. ‘Can you speak more to the point?’

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

‘Don’t you see, Weasel? It was all a set-up. I disguised myself in order to convince you that Potter had an affair with ‘Draco Malfoy’, while Potter had to prove to me that despite appearances you’d choose his side of story over some anonymous person you barely knew. Should I say more?’

‘So, you’re not together?’ asked Ron hopefully.

Malfoy shook his head.

‘And Harry’s not – er- gay?’

Mafoy snorted.

‘Not as far as I know.’

‘And I failed.’

‘Spectacularly.’ said Malfoy, smiling like a contented cat. ‘And it’s not hard to presume that you haven’t spoken to him since that night.’

Ron cursed.

‘So what now? Are you going to print the article?’

‘I’m glad that you asked, Weasley, because here comes my favourite part. You have provided me with enough entertainment to want to see more of it.’

Ron didn’t like the sound of this and his temper was about to explode.

‘Listen, Malfoy, you can’t just play with people’s lives like that.’

‘I don’t see why not if they let me.’ said Malfoy airily. He looked at Ron with calculating, narrowed eyes. ‘You have to learn a lot from Potter, you know. He didn’t hesitate.’

‘Harry has the tendency for heroics that most people don’t.’ said Ron in a low, disparaging voice.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. He should have taken Potter along and show him how little his friend thought of his sacrifices. Maybe that would cure him of his ignominious infatuation.

‘So what is it going to be, Malfoy? What humiliating ritual do you have in store for me?’

‘I think we should take it to a more private surroundings, Weasley, or your customers might think that you’re veering into a drastically new direction.’

Ron grumbled, balled his fists at his sides and motioned with the jerk of his head for Malfoy to follow him to the back of the shop.

‘Well?’ demanded Ron, crossing his hands over his chest and glaring. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was apprehensive of what it was going to be.

With the look of maddening superiority, Malfoy took out what looked like a rectangular velvet box that he unshrunk to its normal size, opened with apparent gusto and placed on top of a small cluttered table for Ron to see. Ron peeked inside. His jaw dropped.

‘Well, don’t you just stare! Take it out.’ snapped Malfoy when Ron wouldn’t move, horror in his eyes.

‘What? What is this?’ he asked, not touching the contents of the box.

‘This is something that you will have to convince Potter to wear for my pleasure.’

Ron stared at Malfoy.

‘You’re mad! No, I take that back – you’re sick! Harry would never wear that! It’s – it’s – you do know that he is not a girl to wear a skirt?’

‘I am well aware of the fact Weasel and that is exactly what makes this task so interesting. After all, it was you who failed to prove that what you have with Potter is real friendship. Now, you will just have to make sure that Potter is more amenable to the idea of wearing this than you think he should be.’

‘He won’t.’ said Ron, shaking his head. ‘No one in their right mind would.’

‘Well then I suggest you take a seat and watch as your wife’s career becomes non-existent in the matter of weeks. Sooner if I can squeeze in a few extra meetings.’

Harry didn’t need to cast a spell to identify his visitor. He knew that Malfoy talked to Ron, though Malfoy wasn’t very forthcoming with the details, and Harry knew that Ron would come to apologize after having some sense knocked into his thick skull. But he wished, he wanted to believe, that after years of friendship Ron wouldn’t need anyone’s push to come to him.

He opened the door, scowled and let Ron in. Ron shuffled into the hall, his hands jammed so deep into his robe’s pockets that they looked like they were about to fall off. He didn’t look at Harry and just stood there, staring dumbly at the piece of floor in front of him. Harry crossed his hands over his chest and gave Ron a hard stare.

‘Is there anything else you need my help with? Anyone else to talk to for you?’ he asked venomously. He remembered Malfoy’s words: ‘When he comes to apologize, make him grovel.’ Well, he wasn’t going to make Ron grovel, he wasn’t getting off on seeing someone at his feet, humiliated, but he was going to give Ron hard time just the same. The stupid git deserved it.

The fact that Ron would turn his back on him so quickly made him overwhelmingly angry. After all these years Harry expected more than that from his best friend. He sacrificed his ass for him! He turned himself over to Malfoy for him and now he didn’t have a good enough reason to back up his decision! Ron hadn’t contact him either in person or by letter since the night in Dragon’s Fire and Harry wasn’t about to break the frosty silence first.

‘M sorry.’ mumbled Ron after a while, not looking at Harry.

Harry snorted. This wasn’t enough. He wasn’t even looking at him. So Harry stood as still and silent as a statue. Minutes went by; Ron became entranced by the carpet pattern so much so that his eyes roved around, following its every curve to its source and back again. Frustrated, Harry tapped his foot on the floor.

‘Is this all I am going to get from you, Ron? A mumbled apology? Will you not even look me in the eye? You know, I did more than that when I went to Malfoy. For you.’ He stressed the words. ‘Do you know how much of my pride I had to leave at his feet? On both occasions. Do you even have any idea how powerful he is now? How difficult it is to get an appointment with him? To make him listen to you? To get him to do something for you?’

How much it cost, he left unsaid. He didn’t want to give too much away, but he did want Ron to feel the enormity of it.

Ron still didn’t look up and Harry sighed, pushing his hands through his hair and gripping the nape of his neck. He shook his head.

‘Would you even come to me if he hadn’t told you about the deal?’

This made Ron look up.

‘He told you?’

‘He told me that he talked to you. Yes. He talks to me, unlike some. Is that a problem?’ asked Harry snidely and Ron flinched from his voice and his glare. ‘It’s funny how you send me to talk to him, but can’t bear to actually see us together. Talking.’

‘I’m fucking sorry, Harry! Ok?!’ burst out Ron at last. His face was as red as his hair and his hands, what Harry could see of them as they seemed to be elbow deep in his pockets, were shaking. ‘I’m sorry that I walked away without listening to you! I’m sorry that I didn’t come to talk to you! I’m sorry that I’m such an idiot! But I was never good with all the emotional stuff and I had to use all of that this last month with Hermione and all! I thought you could understand that!’

Oh no, thought Harry, you’re not taking me down the guilt trip. Not after I’ve become Malfoy’s whore for you.

‘I’m sorry, Ron, but at some point you will have to learn to expand your emotional reservoir to admit more than one emotion addressed at more than one person at the same time. I don’t ask all that much, do I? I know that you have your own family now to take care of and all, but I think I’m entitled to some consideration from you. I don’t want to see you on my doorstep only when you or Hermione or someone close to you is in trouble just because you think that I’m the only person who can help.’

Harry didn’t say how much it actually hurt.

Ron stared at Harry.

‘I didn’t – I’m sorry – I’m just – it’s all going so fast – there are always things to do – and – you know - ’

Harry shook his head.

‘No, I don’t. I’m always there for my friends.’ said Harry and smiled bitterly. ‘There was a time when I thought I could depend on you to do anything to help me…’ he mused, ‘but now – after what happened – I’m not so sure anymore.’

‘Things change, Harry.’ snapped Ron. ‘Priorities change. We’re not eleven any more.’

‘No, we’re not.’ replied Harry in the same musing voice. But it hurt too much. Did Ron have to be so blunt? So uncaring? Harry knew that he wasn’t Ron’s first priority, of course, but he hoped that Ron would still consider him as someone who could depend on him and come to him in need. It was a good thing that there was no need and that Harry relied on himself first, no matter what as it was stuffed into him while he was still a kid, but he always craved for someone he could rely on. Just in case. There was a time when he could rely on Ron, but it was clear now that he could no longer.

‘Listen, Harry, don’t make it all so complicated. You act like a bloody woman!’ Harry stared. He felt as though Ron’s fist connected with his gut. Ron muttered something that Harry didn’t catch next and continued in the same snappy voice. ‘I have a family now. A wife. Something you should think about too, by the way.’

Harry’s eyes turned cold and his mouth thinned.

‘I don’t need you to tell me what to do, Ron.’

‘Fine!’ huffed Ron.

‘Is there anything else?’ asked Harry, annoyed, his hands once again crossed protectively over his chest.

Ron scowled.

‘Yes.’ he gritted out.

Harry thought as much. Sheer malice in Malfoy’s voice told him that he didn’t just let Ron go with his blessing. He wondered what Ron had to ask him to do now. And if he would put more of an effort into this than into his apology.

Ron didn’t look at him again, but one of his hands finally made it out of the pocket, holding something that looked like a tiny black box.

‘Malfoy said that he would not print the article or anything if you – if you – er – put this on.’

Ron spelled the box into its normal size and shoved it into Harry’s hand.

‘I told him that you won’t put this on, but he said that if you don’t then Hermione’s career will go down in a matter of weeks.’

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course.

Harry opened the box and stared. He knew someone else who was going down after this. Keenly aware of Ron’s eyes on him, Harry’s hands shook slightly as he took out a short and what looked like a very tight black leather skirt with matching halter top, stockings and stiletto heels. Black, leathery and tight. Yes, that was Malfoy’s long-standing fantasy that he always talked about but never actually made Harry visualize before. Now Harry knew why – he waited for a special occasion. He was going to kick Malfoy hard. How was he supposed to pretend that the idea of putting on women’s clothes was foreign to him? Harry decided to play dumb. He put everything back into the box and stared at Ron in confusion.

‘I don’t understand. That’s – that’s for women! What exactly am I supposed to do with it? I don’t even know what goes where!’

Harry thought that he induced enough outrage into his voice.

‘Well, don’t look at me, mate. He’s sick. Twisted. That’s what he is.’ said Ron fervently, not looking Harry in the eye. Harry noticed that he rather preferred to cast furtive glances at the box.

‘So, does he want me to put it on in front of you or what?’

‘What? No!’ yelped Ron. ‘Blimey, Harry!’

He was oddly flustered and Harry wondered if he had been imagining how Harry would look wearing this stuff. Harry had a pretty shrewd idea where Malfoy wanted him to wear it, but there was no reason to make it easy on Ron.

‘But you just said that I have to put this on. Did he give you a camera or something to make a picture? I don’t know if I’ll be able to fit in though.’

‘No! You’re not to put it on in front of me! We’re best mates and all, but I’m not ready to see you in women’s wear, Harry.’ said Ron almost hysterically.

He shook his head.

‘Well, it’s not like I’m used to the sight myself.’ said Harry. Well, that was believable. ‘So are you going to tell me what I’m supposed to do with this?’ he asked frustrated.

‘Are you going to wear it then?’ asked Ron cautiously.

Harry rolled his eyes.

‘Well that’s what he wants, isn’t it? For me not to wear it. He thinks I won’t do it and he’ll be free to print that article.’ Harry shrugged. ‘I’m sure I could spend five minutes in this get-up if only to prove Malfoy wrong.’

Harry wondered if he should rub it in, but Ron looked so relieved that his heart wasn’t in it.

‘Thanks, mate.’ said Ron, shame-faced. ‘I owe you.’

Yes you do, thought Harry, more than you can ever know or repay. He didn’t say it. He couldn’t.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Was what he said instead. ‘We’ll prove him wrong and forget about it.’

Harry felt quite an accomplished liar by now. But he reckoned that if he was about to start living a double life it was a good thing.

‘Well, as long as he doesn’t make me wear it in front of the Minister or something.’ he added thoughtfully, wondering what Malfoy had in mind. ‘Did he tell you where he wants to see me in this?’

Harry didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. Malfoy’s owl was very specific and Harry knew that he was exactly where Malfoy wanted him to be, but the fact didn’t reassure him in the least. He was in Knockturn Alley – the place he generally avoided during the day, let alone at night. And he knew that the look he was sporting now was just the thing to get him into trouble with authorities. He blended well with other young men and women roaming the street, looking for prospective customers; their eyes greedy, their stance provocative, their actions dangerous when he accidentally stepped onto their territory.

He shied away from cloaked figures with money jiggling in their pockets and rolled his eyes as scuffles broke out over who gets whom. He didn’t want to stand out. He didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention. He tried to look composed and relaxed and as if he was on a prowl himself, but his heart was beating wildly and panic was swiftly rising in his chest. He wished Malfoy would hurry up and take him away from here. What if someone saw him? What if there was an Auror raid and he got arrested with this lot? How could he ever explain this? Even worse was the thought of what would happen if someone decided to ‘use his services’ and he wasn’t quick enough to get away?

He sighed with relief when Malfoy stepped up in front of him, though he was startled by his sudden appearance. But now that he was here, Harry didn’t quite know what to do. He couldn’t just launch himself at him, begging to take him away. He stared at Malfoy expectantly, waiting for Malfoy to say something at least. Malfoy’s eyes meanwhile roamed his body, taking in the sight, a pleased smile curving his lips. He obviously liked what he saw, because he started tracing the line of the skirt and then pushed his hands underneath it to feel the ridge of silk stockings. Harry leaned against the wall for support. By the feel of Malfoy’s meticulous groping, Harry wondered if he was checking if everything was in place.

When Malfoy finally paid attention to his face he mentally tried to hurry him to get on with it and take him away. Malfoy, however, was in no hurry. He trailed his hands up Harry’s thighs, to his waist, up his torso and then to his face. Harry squirmed uncomfortably against such insistent touching, wondering why Malfoy looked at him as if he saw him for the first time. But things started to clear up when Malfoy spoke after another appraising look.

‘I have not seen you here before. Are you new?’

Harry inwardly groaned. Oh no, he wanted to play. He actually wanted Harry to…

‘Um…yeah…’ replied Harry. ‘Is this going to be a problem?’ he asked not really knowing what else to say.

‘As long as you can prove that you’re worth my time – I don’t see why there should be any problems.’ said Malfoy, his index finger tracing Harry’s jaw.

Harry wanted to scream. It was another ‘it’s your job to please’ me nights and he had to do it here, on the street, of all places.

Harry pressed against Malfoy next, putting his arms around his waist and wrapping his leg around Malfoy’s, slowly rubbing up and down.

‘I can make it really good for you, sir.’ he breathed out. ‘Just tell me what you want and I will give it to you.’

He undulated against Malfoy a bit more and then let him go, pressing his hands flatly against Malfoy’s chest next.

‘What will it be, sir?’ asked Harry almost coyly, following Malfoy’s reaction and feeling pleased that he was getting hard and that he had minor breathing issues. He told himself that he could do it after this. He could.

He looked pointedly at Malfoy’s cock before sliding one of his hands down to squeeze it.

‘Should I warm you up first?’ he asked and without waiting for Malfoy’s permission, slid onto his knees and worked open Malfoy’s robes and trousers. This was familiar ground. This was easy. Here he knew what to do. He knew he was right when Malfoy grabbed his hair and shoved his prick down his throat as far as it would go. Harry sucked him relentlessly. When he was done, he tucked him in gently and rose shakily to his feet. His legs were trembling with the effort it took them to keep from buckling underneath him. He really-really hated high heels. He put his hands on Malfoy’s shoulders for support.

‘What do you say?’ he asked, ‘am I worthy of your time.’

‘Quite.’ replied Malfoy, his voice slightly unsteady just as his arm that slid inside his pocket. ‘As well as every Galleon I am going to spend on you.’

Harry abruptly stepped back from him and pressed into the wall.

‘I don’t need your fucking money, Malfoy.’ he hissed enraged. ‘I’m not a whore. I didn’t do it for money.’

Malfoy’s eyebrows rose.

‘No? Then what did you do it for? Pleasure?’

Harry wrapped his arms around himself.

‘I don’t know. Maybe I did it for you.’ he said savagely. ‘Isn’t it what you want? Me, wanting you? Well, you can have me. I think we’ve established that. But I don’t need your money.’

Malfoy stared at him. Harry shook his head.

‘I hate you. I hate what you turned me into. I don’t need this. But you don’t let me go. I need someone - ’ he gulped.‘ – someone who would love me and not use me.’ he finished very quietly, very much embarrassed.

‘I love you.’ said Malfoy and Harry rolled his eyes.

‘You love the idea of me at your feet, doing what you want me to do, Malfoy. That’s not exactly the same.’

‘Well, that’s the only way I can love, Potter!’ snapped Malfoy and taking Harry by the nape of his neck he crashed their lips together.

Harry didn’t expect Malfoy to kiss him. He had never kissed him before, had he? It was a rather scary experience, because he was not so much kissing as possessing him through his mouth.

They broke apart gasping for air and Harry leaned his head on Malfoy’s shoulder. He shivered when he felt Malfoy’s hands caressing his back.

‘I was wondering why you had to make Ron bring me the outfit.’ asked Harry curiously. ‘Couldn’t you just tell me what to do? It was kind of hard to pretend that I found the idea putting on a skirt shocking.’

‘Did he apologize?’ asked Malfoy in a hard voice.

Harry decided not to tell him how badly Ron apologized.

‘Sure.’

‘I wanted him to apologize to you. I wanted him to feel bad about doubting you. And I wanted him to owe you. Now he does. One day he’ll pay.’

Harry was pressed against Malfoy’s chest enough to hear his ribs crack.

‘I’m going to ask Ginny out.’ said Harry cautiously. ‘I need your promise that you won’t jeopardize my chances with her and that you won’t do anything to her to make it impossible for me to date her and – well – marry her if she still wants me.’

‘You can do whatever you want with She-Weasel as long as you remember who you belong to, Potter, because if you so much as forget I will brand every inch of your skin for everyone to see.’ said Malfoy quietly but menacingly.

He raised Harry’s chin and held it tight, staring intently into Harry’s eyes.

‘I will have you whenever and wherever I want and you’d better start coming up with excuses now, because I am not going to be kept waiting.’

He sealed his words with another fierce kiss and then, before Harry had time to draw breath or blink his shock away, Apparated them to Dragon’s Fire, the very room they had used before.

As dazed as he was, Harry knew that he had to be getting used to this room from now on.

The End (again)

harry_submits com co-mod announcement

farida@normaplus.com — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 12:16:58 GMT

Hey there!

I'm going to co-mod harry_submits with slashpervert! So join this community if you haven't yet and let's revive it! We have some ideas, but we'd like to hear from you!

On fic-related note, I decided to write another part of 'Payment' so stay tuned!

Fic: Payment, part 4

farida@normaplus.com — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 10:38:39 GMT

Title: Payment, part 4
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3157
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: A few months after the first payment, Malfoy’s obsession with Harry’s humiliation is as strong as ever. He keeps him on a short leash and pushes him into things that make Harry’s skin crawl with shame and disgust. However, when Malfoy goes a step too far and tries to set Ron against him, Harry understands the real reason behind Malfoy’s actions and decides to use it to his advantage.
Warnings: cross-dressing, non-con, unrequited Harry/Ron, hints of the Epilogue

Payment, part 4

‘Ron – what are you doing here?’ asked Harry, struggling with the shock of unwanted discovery and completely missing Malfoy’s amused snort or the fact that he had put back the privacy spell around them.

Ron crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Harry.

‘I think I’d rather know why you’ve been moony-eyeing Malfoy of all people instead.’ he said savagely.

‘I have not been moony-eyeing Malfoy!’ said Harry, deeply offended.

It was extremely hard to miss Malfoy’s snort this time and he felt colour rising in his face at the insinuation that he was staring at Malfoy like a lovesick puppy. He was afraid that he had developed some sort of misguided attraction to the bastard, after having spent so much of his time pleasuring him and getting to know the most intimate parts of his anatomy.

‘You said that you were going to talk to him!’ yelled Ron, accusingly. ‘Instead I find you holding hands with this scumbag!’

His voice reached dangerously high pitch and Harry winced.

‘Is this what you told him, Harry?’ asked Malfoy and Harry started, forgetting for a moment of his presence. ‘How unoriginal of you. Haven’t you used this very excuse before?’ he pursed his lips. ‘I think I will have to work on your imagination next.’

‘Shut your mouth, Malfoy!’ hissed Harry, turning back to Ron whose mouth was both trying to remain open and to snap shut at the same time.

‘Listen, Ron,’ said Harry exasperatedly. ‘This is not how it looks. I told you that I was going to talk to him and that is exactly what I am doing! How bloody difficult is it to understand?’

‘Really?’ asked Ron with a perfect imitation of the Malfoy sneer. ‘Then why do you need the key for one of the rooms upstairs?’ he said pointing at the glittering key lying peacefully on the table. ‘Do you need a bed to talk to him now?’

Key? Harry whirled around and stared. He vaguely wondered why Ron talked about the place like he was an expert. How did he know of this place anyway? How did he know that Harry would be here? Why did the charm around their booth give way and let him through?

‘Harry,’ said Malfoy, soothingly, slowly tracing the key. ‘It was bound to happen, you know. I know that we’ve had this argument every day that we’ve been lovers and I understand that you couldn’t just go and tell your friends about us, because you are ashamed to be – what was it that you said – ah- my piece of tail on the side, but now that the option is taken out of your hands why don’t you just admit it and let Weasley go. Let him throw tantrum to his wife.’

‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Malfoy?’ snarled Harry. ‘We are not lovers! Stop pretending that we are! You know perfectly well why I’m here!’

‘Oh, Harry.’ said Malfoy with a dramatic sigh, dangling the key into his face. ‘The next thing you’ll be saying is that we had never had sex before.’

Ron made a sort of choking noise and Harry turned back to him. Ron was pale and speechless.

‘Ron – it’s not true. I mean – Malfoy and I – we are not lovers.’ said Harry miserably, debating between concentrating his efforts on convincing Ron and strangling Malfoy.

Ron didn’t answer but shrugged and looked away as if the sight of Harry made him sick.

‘I reckon it is or you would have got back with Ginny by now.’ he said after a very painful pause. ‘She’s still waiting, you know. Guess I better tell her not to.’

He spoke in a hollow voice before turning on his heels and walking away, not looking at Harry.

‘Ron- no!’ said Harry, going after him but crashing into an invisible wall next.

He spun around and glared at Malfoy. He was shaking. He could feel rage and bitterness pouring out of him like acid fumes, surrounding him and choking him. It was quite possibly the last time he talked to Ron. He couldn’t believe that Malfoy would – set him up like that. It had to be a set-up. Of course. There was no other explanation for it. Ron had no trouble breaking the spell, yet he was trapped inside. Meanwhile, Malfoy was way too smug even by his usual standards and not at all surprised to see Ron, which meant that it was all a carefully planned scheme. Barely restraining his animalistic urge to simply murder Malfoy there and now, Harry sat down and stared at him instead.

‘Don’t go all mopey on me, Potter.’ warned Malfoy.

‘How did Ron know where to find me?’ asked Harry, his voice trembling with an effort not to scream. ‘What have you done?’

Malfoy crossed his fingers on the table and looked at Harry with a faint smile.

‘It wasn’t all that difficult. All it took was a few trips to his joke shop all set with a cauldronful of praise, an avid interest in their new products and finally a concerned face of a well-wishing friend who heard by chance – probably just rumours – someone’s idea of a joke – about Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy and their supposed affair. He didn’t believe it – or so he said – but obviously he didn’t trust you enough not to come here and check the words of a perfect stranger. I put a Tracking charm on him so I knew when to take the spell off.’

‘Polyjuice Potion?’ asked Harry.

‘Of course. I wouldn’t entrust such a delicate matter to anyone else.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Don’t play stupid, Malfoy.’ snapped Harry. ‘Why did you have to tell him that we are lovers when we are anything but? Isn’t it enough that I’m your – ‘

‘Yes?’ asked Malfoy curiously.

Harry sneered.

‘Whatever! Did you have to ruin my friendship with Ron too?’

‘You call it friendship? He didn’t even listen to you.’ pointed out Malfoy.

‘Because you told him that we are lovers! Of course, he wouldn’t listen to me with all the evidence you’ve produced! You know that he hates you and your family! He would consider it as betrayal!’

‘So? Just because you’re friends and his sister pines for you he has the right to choose who you should be with?’

‘This is not the point!’ said Harry, gritting his teeth.

‘I think this is precisely the point, Harry. You turn yourself to me to do as I please to keep his pathetic hide out of Azkaban and his wife’s name out of papers and he doesn’t even give you chance to explain yourself. He just walks on you, taking my word for it instead. Do you really need a friend like this?’

‘He’ll come around.’ said Harry, glaring at Malfoy.

‘Is that right? Are you ready to bet your freedom on it? I think not. Do you think he’ll forgive you for spurning his little sister and for consorting with none other than the nefarious Draco Malfoy?’

Harry put his head in his hands and groaned. It would be tough to convince Ron that it was Malfoy’s practical joke without Malfoy’s help and if Ron would ask him if they had had sex, Harry wouldn’t be able to lie convincingly. He just knew it. His head hurt. He couldn’t lose Ron’s friendship and though he told Malfoy that he’d come around, deep down Harry wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t just the fact that it was Malfoy or that he was in fact married. Harry could almost see it from Ron’s point of view. He would think that all this time he and Malfoy had had fun at his and Hermione’s expense and that when he promised to talk to Malfoy… Harry shuddered… Ron was going to hate him… Especially for trying to hurt Hermione when she was in such a vulnerable frame of body and mind.

‘So all this business with the article was just a ruse to lure Ron here, is that it?’ asked Harry when he could no longer stand examining the inside of his head. ‘You had not intentions of printing it. Of course you knew that if you sent it to Ron, he would go straight to me and I would go to you. And while playing hard to get you have been busy organizing this little meet-up the aim of which was to successfully set him against me. You knew he would not react well to seeing us together in a place known for its non-verbal practices.’

‘I didn’t say that I won’t print the article, Potter. In fact, I fully intend to print it now.’ said Malfoy.

‘What? Why?’ asked Harry, horrified. ‘What more do you want from me? I know that there is nothing I can offer you that you haven’t already taken. But wasn’t today enough? I’d think you would appreciate it for the fun factor alone.’

‘Don’t you see, Harry?’

‘All I see, Malfoy, is you ruining my life! And don’t call me Harry!’

‘I do it for you.’ said Malfoy simply.

‘What?’

Harry laughed, though the look in Malfoy’s eyes was not a laughing matter. It was blazing and possessive and something else that Harry didn’t understand.

‘They hurt you. Now I am going to hurt them.’ replied Malfoy in a low fierce voice.

Harry blinked. Something very strange was going on here. Was Malfoy implying…? No. Harry shook his head.

‘What are you saying, Malfoy?’ he asked.

‘Potter, don’t try to be thicker than you actually are. Why do you think I chose this particular method of payment? Why do you think I cast a spell on Weasley that compelled him to attack me in plain view of about a dozen high ranking Ministry officials to begin with? Why do you think I went to such lengths to ensure your presence in my bed?’

Harry stared at Malfoy in disbelief.

‘I dunno.’ he said after deciding that it made no sense. ‘Why couldn’t you go about it like a normal person? If it’s me you want why did you have to involve Ron and Hermione into this? Why couldn’t you just go straight after me? Cast a spell on me? Charge me with something? Threaten to throw me into Azkaban?’

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

‘Because you wouldn’t do anything like that to get yourself out. You would be a right martyr about it. You would not give me your body in return for your freedom. You’d rather rot in Azkaban. So I played the Weasley card and it gave me you – your body to use – I can live with that. You’ll get used to it eventually. Just know that I will go even further to keep you were you are now.’

Harry ignored the threat. It was not important at the moment and he realized that he could actually use it to his advantage.

‘I’m trying to understand you here, Malfoy. You want me.’

‘Well, don’t let it get to your head, Potter. At least my taste in men is way better than yours. I mean Weasel?’

‘Shut your mouth.’ snapped Harry. ‘You’re married.’

‘And you think that I would have risen to my present position within the Ministry in such a short time after the Dark Lord debacle if I hadn’t aligned myself with another pure-blood family? I worked hard to get where I am now, but there was one thing more that I wanted and that I could get only by force. Don’t look so incredulous. If you hadn’t lacked proper wizarding pride, you would understand that marriage – into the right family – is the key ingredient even if your – heart – lies elsewhere. Though if you are so enamoured by their blood-traitor lot why don’t you get hitched with the Weasel chit? Same hair. Same freckles. Same temper.’

‘And why don’t you ditch your wife and marry me instead?’ asked Harry spitefully. ‘I reckon I could carry the Malfoy name as well as any dress you had put me through.’

‘Just because I have developed an obsession with you, Potter, doesn’t mean that I will forget where my loyalties lie.’

‘Where is this place, if you don’t mind me asking? Surely not in the same bed as your wife.’

‘You are so eager to go to bed with me that you can’t even keep it out of a conversation.’

‘It’s hard to say, Malfoy, as I have never shared a bed with you.’ said Harry.

He stared defiantly at Malfoy. He felt strangely elated as though the knowledge that Malfoy had some perverted feelings for him gave him power to use against him.

‘Well, why don’t we change that?’ said Malfoy, taking the key and getting to his feet.

Harry rolled his eyes, drew the hood back and followed Malfoy up the stairs. He was still on the hook and Malfoy still hadn’t promised him not to print the article. Harry decided to hold on to it. He had a feeling that if he won this small victory tonight, he would have better prospects of making Malfoy back down in future. For now he would follow Malfoy’s wishes, because he was sure that they would grant him his wishes in the end.

It was a decidedly new sensation to be in bed, getting fucked by Malfoy. There was no ‘It’s your job to pleasure me’ shit this time. Malfoy didn’t talk and didn’t look at Harry and Harry thought that their heart-to-heart chat had finally caught up with him and he was struck dumb by his confession. But whatever feelings Mafloy might have had for him, they didn’t apply to sex and it was as painful and humiliating as ever, making Harry feel every bit like a whore. A cheap motel whore. The room was shabby and well-used. The bed creaked and fell apart. There was no window so Harry couldn’t get lost in the contemplation of the darkness of the sky outside or, if he was lucky, in the number of stars to count. Malfoy pushed him on the bed, tore off his trousers, pushed his legs up, cast a quick spell and drove into him so fast and hard that Harry crashed into the metal bars of the bed with a scream.

Malfoy’s eyes were squeezed shut as if he was concentrating hard on the task; his movements steady and aggressive. His hands gripped Harry’s hips with raw force and Harry’s legs, bent over his shoulders, started to cramp. He was grateful that Malfoy didn’t look at him, because he was sure to get an eyeful. Harry wondered if they could go back to him simply straddling Malfoy and riding him. At least then Malfoy couldn’t see him so much exposed. He felt sweat gluing his shirt to his skin, but he shivered violently when Malfoy placed his hands on his abdomen and lowered his forehead to meet his, bending Harry in two.

‘There is a matter of an heir, Potter.’ he said in a voice so low Harry was sure his heart beating was louder. ‘This is one thing that I cannot make you carry. No matter how much I threaten to ruin your friends’ lives.’

On that regretful note he came and Harry, after realizing what Malfoy was talking about, started laughing hysterically.

‘How funny that with all the magic at your disposal, there are still some things that even pure-bloods cannot afford.’ he said, gasping for air.

When Malfoy got off him, Harry turned onto his stomach with a groan. He hurt all over and he was sure that his whole back was bloodied. It felt raw. Harry pressed his cheek to the pillow, wondering if he was going to make it to the shower. It was better to lie still for now, not to move. Not to breathe. But he was sticky and dirty and there was blood too. He had to get up. He would crawl to the bathroom if he had to. He had almost raised himself up on his elbows and then screamed with pain when Malfoy pressed him down on the bed.

‘Shh, don’t scream down the place.’ he said softly.

Harry gasped for breath. He couldn’t talk. He wanted to tell Malfoy to take his hands off him, to go fuck himself, but the pain was excruciating. Through the haze Harry felt rather than heard Malfoy cast a series of spells. The tip of his wand followed the line of Harry’s spine before making its way between his ass, spreading cool, soothing sensation; so soothing in fact that Harry soon drifted off to sleep.

When Harry woke up, warm and pain-free, with Malfoy’s hand lying possessively across his back, idly wondering if he was upgraded from whore to lover, he knew that he had to decide on what to do next.

Malfoy was in no hurry to let him go and he would keep holding the threat of ruining Ron’s and Hermione’s and probably other Weasleys’ lives over his head as long as he wanted him around. Harry thought that he could always let them fend for themselves, but then he would blame himself for causing all the trouble and not preventing it. After all, it was his and not his friends’ fault that Malfoy had a thing for him.

But he could take a leaf out of Malfoy’s book and have semblance of normal life by marrying Ginny. What it was that Malfoy said: ‘Same hair. Same freckles. Same temper.’ Ginny was also pretty, brave, determined and tough; she loved Quidditch and understood Harry well enough for someone who wasn’t Ron and Hermione and they had a lot of shared experience and were happy as a couple once, before Harry’s feelings screwed him over. And she still fancied him. Well, at least they would have more in common than Malfoy and his wife. Harry snorted at the picture of them sending their kids off to Hogwarts some time in the future. Maybe their sons would be in the same year too.

He turned over and looked at Malfoy. Malfoy didn’t wake up but tightened his arm around Harry so that Harry’s nose was now pressed against the crook of his neck. His other hand, even in sleep, slithered down to cup Harry’s ass as if following a well-trodden or, in this case, well-touched path. Harry shifted against him, trying to make himself more comfortable. He decided that he had to get Malfoy to talk to him about pure-bloods and the danger they faced from Muggles and Muggle-borns as it seemed to be the fastest way of igniting his attraction.

As he lay, clutched in Malfoy’s arms like a long-desired Quidditch Cup that he had never won, Harry knew that it was not how he pictured his life, but he also knew that with a bit of shifting, he would make it so.

original fiction writing question - the necessity of description

farida@normaplus.com — Tue, 26 May 2009 18:12:55 GMT

As a writer I like to indulge in a bit of description. I like to transfer the image that I’ve got in my mind on paper so that I could share it with my readers and I put a great deal of thought and effort into doing it. But as a reader I always find myself skipping the passages dealing with description of any kind and I wonder how much readers really care for description? How important is it to them? I’m not talking about that special kind of description that is used to foreshadow the coming up events, but description of natural sights, clothes, houses, furniture, etc. Does description help readers to visualize the characters and their surroundings or does it make it more difficult to concentrate on the events that they interrupt?

Fic: Payment, part 3

farida@normaplus.com — Mon, 25 May 2009 16:30:53 GMT

Title: Payment, part 3
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3949
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: A few months after the first payment, Malfoy’s obsession with Harry’s humiliation is as strong as ever. He keeps him on a short leash and pushes him into things that make Harry’s skin crawl with shame and disgust. However, when Malfoy goes a step too far and tries to set Ron against him, Harry understands the real reason behind Malfoy’s actions and decides to use them to his advantage.
Warnings: cross-dressing, non-con, unrequited Harry/Ron, hints of the Epilogue, heavy ramblings in this part

Author’s Notes: I got carried away in this part so there is one more to come.

Payment, part 3

Days after their bizarre encounter, Harry was celebrating the completion of an entire Malfoy-free week by going to bed early when Ron burst into his bedroom, a crumpled piece of parchment shaking furiously in his hands.

Naturally, Ron bursting into his bedroom was one of Harry’s long-standing fantasiesб but none of them included a furious Ron, spitting with rage and swearing to rip someone from limb to limb. Harry instantly knew that he wasn’t dreaming.

Ron paced back and forth, muttering under his breath, while Harry got out of bed, thankful for his pajama bottoms, and stared at his friend in some confusion. He was dazed by his sudden appearance but was getting over his shock quickly enough.

When it became clear that Ron was not about to stop and tell him what was the matter, as he was too busy having a fierce confrontation with someone invisible, Harry took him by the hand and dragged him to the bed, forcing him sit and take notice of him.

‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘This!’ roared Ron, thrusting an ill-treated parchment at Harry. Harry had to struggle it out of Ron’s hand, before he had the chance to have a good look at it.

‘The bastard!’ hissed Ron, when Harry started scanning what looked like an article from the Daily Prophet, though he didn’t remember anything of the kind from this morning’s paper.

His eyes widened. He didn’t need to look at the signature at the bottom of the page or even read beyond the first paragraph to know who the author was.

Wizarding World in Danger of Exposure

It has been of some concern to myself and my fellow witches and wizards from old pure-blood families to witness an alarming rise of pro-Muggle activity within the Ministry of Magic in recent years. While some might say and others might agree that it is without a doubt a worthy cause to maintain friendly ties between our communities and to welcome and support Muggle-born witches and wizards, we find it rather disquieting to discover that certain members of the Ministry of Magic are over-zealous in their attempts to establish what we can only regard as a strictly Muggle-born society, governed by their new, untested laws; as well as promote, one can only imagine to some extent, Muggle awareness of our existence. I sincerely hope that this is someone’s idea of a bad joke. Otherwise, I am very much concerned for the well-being of the Wizarding World once it becomes exposed to Muggles. I do not suppose that anyone, who is familiar with our history at least, must be reminded of the constant danger wizards faced while exposed to the Muggle eye before the institution of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1689.

Harry snorted at the drivel. But he read on as there had to be something more than Malfoy’s anti-Muggle ramblings to make Ron so furious that he could hardly speak.

Prominent among those who believe that Muggles can be trusted with the knowledge of our existence is one Hermione Granger – a Muggle-born witch of some talent who, it has been whispered, makes up in brains what she thoroughly lacks in pedigree. Having no ties to the Wizarding community before she received her Hogwarts letter, she has often failed to grasp many of our long-standing customs and traditions. Indeed, ever since she arrived into our world she has been trying to change and even undermine our ways that had been a part of our heritage for centuries – heritage, that her Muggle descent does not allow her to either value or comprehend.

Her subversive activity started while she was still at Hogwarts. Then she launched her first attack at our traditions by aiming straight at the heart of every respectable Wizarding household – at house-elves, implanting dangerous ideas into their heads and going so far as sabotaging their work by trying to set them free against their will and very nature. And now, holding a position at the department of Magical Law Enforcement, it seems, that there is no one who can stop her as she continues her devastating campaign, mindless of harm and distress that she is inflicting upon the elves and their owners by her forceful actions that should not be tolerated.

Should we let Miss Granger have her way and carry on the execution of her unfounded belief that she is doing right by house-elves setting them free against their wishes and our traditions, she will not stop there. And before we know it, she will demand the introduction of Magic Awareness subject in Muggle schools, the main aim of which will, naturally, be to learn how to recognize a witch or a wizard living in the neighbourhood, which will instantly put us in direct danger of Muggle detection. And from there it is not hard to predict what will happen next.

So I urge you to protect and preserve our legacy and stand against the tide of ill-meant intentions of some of the Ministry of Magic workers before it is too late and our children first and foremost – hope and future of our world – become an easy target in the face of witch-hunters – another thing that Miss Granger unfortunately cannot understand, having no children of her own.

Harry put the parchment aside and stared, horrified. The missive was ridiculous but potentially harmful. He couldn’t believe that Malfoy would do something like this. Write something like this. Not now. It was the worst time possible. But that was probably why Malfoy chose to do it now in the first place: attack Hermione in the press and hit on the very thing that drove her even more obsessively than ever before to secure elf rights and freedoms.

Ron sat rigidly on the bed and Harry nudged him with his knee.

‘Did Hermione see this?’

Ron shook his head. He looked as green as before his first ever Quidditch match and he had trouble unclenching his jaw as if holding back the urge to throw up.

‘The owl brought it straight to me.’ he forced out at last.

Harry nodded.

‘Was there anything else? A note? A possible date of it being printed? Anything that would indicate what he wants in return for not printing it?’ asked Harry, trying hard to understand Malfoy’s motives this time around. What else could he want?

‘No. Just – this – this – this – thing.’

Ron lost the struggle with disgust and his face twisted horribly.

‘Then we’ll just have to confront him about it and find out. I’ll go to him the first thing in the morning.’ said Harry, resolutely, though without any real wish to go after Malfoy and demand explanation.

Harry was so happy that he didn’t have to see Malfoy for an entire week – but, really, he should have been more concerned by the lack of owls from Malfoy; he should have known that it was just the calm before the storm and that if Malfoy hadn’t demanded his presence by now it probably meant that he had been busy plotting another disaster that Harry would have to prevent. Harry was convinced that it was all about payment all over again. The only problem was that he had nothing left to trade.

Ron gave him such a pleading look that Harry hated seeing on his best friend’s face.

‘You’ll do it, mate?’ he asked hopefully.

Harry rolled his eyes.

‘I don’t reckon you’ve come here just to rage about Malfoy, Ron. Don’t you want me to do it?’

Isn’t that what you’ve come here for, Harry left for another time. He was afraid that it would sound too bitter.

Ron looked sheepishly at Harry.

‘That’s ok. You know you can count on me.’ said Harry.

‘I just thought, you know, you went to him last time and it worked. I don’t know what you told him and you’ve never told us, but it worked.’ said Ron in a kind of awed astonishment, gazing at Harry with his mouth slightly open, as if trying to figure out what it was, which made Harry cringe. He turned away.

‘There was no case against you. It was all talk and he knew it.’ he lied. ‘I didn’t do anything heroic if that’s what you think.’

Harry couldn’t help wondering what sort of power Ron imagined he held over Malfoy and what he would say if he knew the truth.

But getting hold of Malfoy proved more difficult than Harry had originally expected. In the end, he was reduced to actively seeking him out and hating himself for it. When all his attempts to contact him by owl or catch him in the Ministry and even in Malfoy Manor failed, desperate, Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak and slipped unnoticed and unhindered into Malfoy’s office during lunch break.

Malfoy, who was on the point of leaving, was supremely unsurprised to see Harry as he took off his cloak and glared at him. If anything he looked highly amused. Obviously, Harry chasing him around like a puppy was as entertaining as anything else.

‘Fancy seeing you here, Potter.’ he said. ‘Though, I don’t remember requesting your presence. Is there anything you wanted?’

‘As a matter of fact yes.’ snarled Harry. ‘I wanted to ask you if you had trouble with your muse. I mean, did it actually take you a whole week to come up with this rubbish?’ he said, throwing the piece of parchment that held all the tell-tale signs of being abused by two sets of hands on the table in front of him. ‘What is it this time, Malfoy? What is there left of me for you to take? Why do you keep targeting people I care about? I know that the Daily Prophet will lap up everything you feed them, but you can’t just go and print something like this! It will kill Hermione!’

‘An interesting choice of words there, Potter.’ replied Malfoy and Harry instantly blushed. ‘I don’t think that a piece of my mind will kill Granger,’ he continued coldly, ‘but even if it does, I won’t care much as long as it doesn’t happen at the Ministry – I can only imagine the stench.’ He sighed as if Harry was boring him and moved towards the door. ‘I really don’t have time for your hysterics so if you don’t mind - ’

Harry glared furiously at him, clenched his wand so tightly that it started sending angry sparks and flushed further still with the memory of his ill-timed break-down during their last meeting. He snarled at Malfoy’s back -

‘What’s the matter? In a hurry to meet your pure-blood trophy wife in a pure-bloods-only restaurant?’

Harry was still smarting too much from his encounter with Astoria Malfoy to let it go completely. Malfoy paused with his wand on the doorknob and spoke: ‘I’ll owl you the details of our next meeting. Until then, don’t even think about forcing yourself into my house or office or the article will go into print before you have the chance of negotiating the price of its staying out of it.’

Left alone, Harry wondered if he could get away with turning Malfoy’s office upside down like an over-excited Niffler looking for gold or maybe setting fire to some important-looking documents, but thought better of it. There was nothing to be gained from pushing Malfoy further, because if that was the extent of what Mafloy did for fun, Harry shuddered to think what he’d do if he really had a reason to extract payment.

It took another two weeks for Malfoy to send Harry an owl, by which time Harry had been driven crazy with nerves and odd sort of anticipation. He knew, or rather he wanted to believe, that Malfoy wouldn’t print the article about Hermione before he had the chance to offer another payment. But then it was Malfoy and Harry couldn’t exactly trust him to keep his word and not to do anything to hurt his friends as he was known to derive particular pleasure from it.

It came as a shock that Malfoy didn’t expect him to arrive at Malfoy Manor, wearing another stupid dress, but instead told him to meet him at one of the inns, located on the outskirts of Diagon Alley. It was a rather shady location, sprinkled with the kind of establishments that were not frequented by parents and their children while purchasing school supplies. In fact, you would never find them there in broad daylight, because they seemed to appear only when it was safe to show themselves to their prospective customers. Harry had never been in one of those before, but he had heard other Aurors mention them in connection with certain entertainments and potions that could be easily obtained there for a nice sum of Galleons.

Occasionally Ministry would conduct a raid or two to clear up the place and shut down more objectionable inns, but it was as pointless as de-gnoming the garden as they reopened after a short while and the Ministry mostly kept a blind eye policy towards them as long as there were no serious complaints. Harry wondered if Hermione knew of this part of the wizarding community. It was certainly up her street to work tirelessly in order to ban something like this.

When Harry arrived at ‘Dragon’s Fire’ – snorting at the name for the umpteenth time – he was surprised to see that this particular inn, at least, looked quite respectable and he would never believe that anything untoward was going on behind its doors. He checked the parchment to make sure that he got the right inn and walked inside, drawing the hood over his face. The room was low-lit and spacious with a bar counter, a dance floor, a number of private booths and a staircase leading upstairs. The first indication that this was not a place any decent witch or wizard would visit was a number of explicit pictures of highly obscene nature lining the walls.

Shivering slightly, Harry went to the booth at the very back of the room, as per Malfoy’s instructions, and sat down, trying not to look around or catch anyone’s eye. A glass of water appeared in front of him. He cautiously sniffed it, cast a spell that would instantly identify the presence of any illegal substances in there and, his throat feeling quite parched, drank it in one gulp. He wished Malfoy would hurry up and explain why he wanted to meet in a place like this. What was wrong with Malfoy Manor, anyway?

When a quarter of an hour later, that felt much longer to Harry, Malfoy slipped into the booth and cast a charm that allowed them complete privacy, Harry relaxed and took off the hood. He was ashamed that he was almost happy to see Malfoy, but in the crowd of strangers whose tastes ran a little too wild for his liking, Malfoy was like a dear old friend. Harry debated whether to ask him about the choice of the place first or to go straight to the matter at hand. But deciding that Hermione’s well-being was more important than his curiosity or the unsettling feeling somewhere in the region of his stomach, launched forward with his well-rehearsed line -

‘Don’t print it, please.’

Malfoy snorted and took up the menu that appeared as soon as he had settled down opposite Harry.

‘Malfoy,’ said Harry, forcing his voice to remain calm, though his insides were all jittery. ‘Don’t do it. You don’t even need to. With your contacts and connections at the Ministry you don’t need to print anything to be heard.’

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, closed the menu and crossing his hands in front of him, stared expectantly at Harry as if saying ‘Go on. Convince me.’

‘It’s not like you even care!’ burst out Harry, goaded by Malfoy’s smug look. ‘But Hermione will! Normally, she would have ignored such an article, but her defenses are pretty low now and you having a go at her so publicly will be a real blow. Just let it go. At least for now.’

‘So what are you saying, Potter? We should stand aside and let Granger infest our traditions with her skewed ideas like a human version of a Bundimun*, because that’s her way of dealing with personal crisis?’

Malfoy sneered.

‘What does a Mudblood know, anyway?’

Harry clenched his teeth and tightened his grip both on his wand and his temper, while Malfoy went on.

‘Why does she think that she can challenge our beliefs and get away with it? I’m sure she wouldn’t have such a hard time adjusting if she tried to challenge her ideas first. As it is, she is blinded by her false misinterpretation of elfish nature, completely ignoring their needs, and is bent on meddling in matters that should not be sullied by the likes of her. What gives her right to stand there and screech at the top of her voice that what we stand for is wrong while what she stands for is right? Is she really so arrogant and self-centered that she believes to know better than those of us who have been raised firsthand within the wizarding community, following its laws and traditions and intent on preserving them intact for future generations like our ancestors had been doing for centuries before us?’

Malfoy stopped to draw breath and Harry stared wide-eyed, his breathing quickening with every word Malfoy spat. Harry had never seen Malfoy looking so passionate before; breathing through his nostrils, leaning across the table with his hands clenched into fists; his eyes shining with fire as if manifesting that there were things he found worthy fighting for; red patches of colour appearing on his cheeks, showing that he was alive and not a marble statue of pure-blood perfection; his lips stretching into a snarl that Harry found fascinating to watch.

He was confused and mortified by his own reaction to him. It was the first time in history that he felt remotely attracted to Malfoy or wanted, willingly, to be kissed with that mouth, that was spitting words like fire spits sparks… he wanted that mouth… wanted it… amidst the talk of house-elves and Hermione versus pure-bloods and their traditions… What in the name of Merlin’s frilly knickers was wrong with him? Harry cursed under his breath when he realized that he had lost the chance to have his say.

‘You might not see it, Potter,’ continued Malfoy in a low voice. ‘but Granger is as prejudiced against pure-bloods as she thinks we are prejudiced against half-bloods, Muggle-borns and Muggles. Perhaps, it escaped her notice, while she was busy researching elfish rights denied to them by wizardkind, that there is a reason behind our distrust of the lot of them. Muggles didn’t exactly treat us like kindly neighbours would. Instead of living in peace and harmony and benefiting from magic that our ancestors were willing to use for their needs, they hunted, prosecuted and executed us and I am sorry to say that not everyone of our kind managed to escape Muggle ‘justice’ unharmed.’

‘I don’t ask you to stand aside or abandon your ideas, Malfoy!’ said Harry furiously when he could finally break in. ‘If you want to fight Hermione on this – go ahead and fight! You are fully entitled to fight for what you believe in. But do it face to face – she is tough enough to handle you – but don’t do it in such an underhand way. It’s just cowardly. Haven’t you grown out of this? Haven’t you left your Hogwarts-style tricks behind?’

‘Just tell me,’ said Malfoy as if not listening to him. ‘What exactly is she going to do with the elves once she sets them free? Keep them in an Elfish Rehabilitation Centre, perhaps? Where she will be teaching them the finer points of being free and giving tips on how to seek employers that would pay them wages and would not abuse their power? What? Has she thought about what they are going to do once she forces them into freedom that they don’t want, that is as strange and unexplainable to them as magic to a Muggle?’

He shook his head.

‘They don’t know what it’s like to be free, to enjoy themselves outside the household they are bound to by ancient magical laws and are only too happy to serve. It’s in their nature just like it’s in the nature of a dragon to breathe fire or in the nature of a wizard to do magic. She is so blinded by her self-righteous indignation on the behalf of poor, mistreated, under-represented house-elves that she doesn’t allow herself to look beyond the possibility that they might not be enslaved against their will!’

There it was again – that misplaced attraction – and Harry fought to take himself under control and not let it overtake him. There must have been something in that water after all, he thought, something that completely avoided detection.

‘You can tell her this face to face, you know.’ he said and almost smiled, but caught himself just in time. ‘I reckon that the majority of house-elves are quite happy with their lives and their place in the wizarding world. I remember witnessing how angry and distressed they can become if threatened to be parted from the family they serve. But it was always a non-negotiable question for Hermione. I think it has got something to do with the way she was introduced to the house-elves in the first place. It had a huge impact on her. She had seen one house-elf being abused and mistreated by her master and she assumed that they are all used in much the same way.’

Personally, Harry believed that Hermione’s obsession with elf-enslavement was taking her a bit too far (not that he would admit it to Malfoy) and her measures were becoming more and more desperate with each failed attempts to secure the change of laws concerning them. In fact, Harry dreaded that she would try to force him and Ron to campaign for elf rights at every wizard-inhabited site wearing nothing but togas embossed with multiple elf heads and carrying ‘Give ‘Em Clothes’ banners next.

Harry thought he could understand Malfoy’s indignation on this point (once again, not that he would be telling Malfoy this). Hermione’s main problem was that she wanted to revolutionize century-old laws without taking pains of looking beyond her own perception of them and trying to understand them unbiased, without linking them to pure-bloods. More than once Harry got frustrated with her as she struggled against opening her mind to ideas that didn’t comply with her logic. Apart from magic, she remained skeptical to everything else that her brain failed to categorize as logical or rational and relied too much on her text-book attitude to ever lose the title of a narrow-minded person given to her by those who didn’t agree with her brain rigidity.

On an impulse, before Harry knew what he was doing, he outstretched his hand and moved it towards Malfoy’s. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next and it didn’t matter because Malfoy took Harry’s hand and clasped it tightly in his.

It was a strange moment. As if something life-changing was about to happen. And it certainly did. As they stared at each other, Harry felt the cracking of magic around them and the next second he heard a familiar, shocked, voice say –

‘Harry? No! What the bloody hell?’

Harry gasped, snatched his hand from under Malfoy’s as if burnt, whirled around and came face to face with Ron.

* M.O.M. Classification: XXX

Bundimuns are found worldwide. Skilled at creeping under floorboards and behind skirting boards, they infest houses. The presence of a Bundimun is usually announced by a foul stench of decay. The Bundimun oozes a secretion which rots away the very foundations of the dwelling in which it is found. From ‘Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find Them’

Fic: Payment, part 2

farida@normaplus.com — Tue, 19 May 2009 12:21:07 GMT

Title: Payment, part 2
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2710
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: A few months after the first payment, Malfoy’s obsession with Harry’s humiliation is as strong as ever. He keeps him on a short leash and pushes him into things that make Harry’s skin crawl with shame and disgust. However, when Malfoy goes a step too far and tries to set Ron against him, Harry understands the real reason behind Malfoy’s actions and decides to use it to his advantage.
Warnings: cross-dressing, non-con, unrequited Harry/Ron, hints of the Epilogue

Payment, part 2

Harry sped along the hated halls of Malfoy Manor, breathing painfully against the tightness of the corset, slipping on the sleek marble landing and stumbling on the soft carpeted stairs; his large rapid steps mindless of the height of the heels he was wearing or the number of ruffled skirts that kept trapping his legs into forceful hugs; the material biting into his skin with every touch and making him hiss. Harry didn’t care if he ruined the dress, it certainly held no value for him, and he deliberately widened his step so as to hear the satisfying sound of another skirt being ripped along the seam.

He was cloaked and the hood was falling over his face, successfully obscuring him from unwanted attention of hundreds of portraits lining the walls. He had endured enough of their curiosity, disgusted mutterings, exclamations of shock or – what he found far more disturbing – lascivious looks complete with suggestive tongue movements and hand gestures not to think of a way to disguise himself in future.

He stopped long enough to get his wand back from the house-elf at the door and hurried towards the Apparition point along the beautifully kept lane, clutching at the stitch in his chest, his face working furiously against the uncomfortable feeling of tightness that had spread across it due to all the make-up he had to put on and that horrible sticky mess that Malfoy had shot at him, that was also steadily dripping from between his buttocks and coating his legs.

He was running late and he had no more than ten minutes to Apparate to Grimmauld Place and make himself presentable before Ron and Hermione had a chance to Floo in and see him dressed up like a high profile courtesan.

Two months and Malfoy was as relentless as ever, insisting on retrieving his payment and using Harry for fulfillment of his perverted dirty fantasies. His favourite by far was Harry squeezed into some sort of old-fashioned dress with frills and a corset. Harry kept counting his ribs each time he was out of the dress; surely one day the corset would be so tight a pair would crack. Malfoy also insisted on actually sending Harry the next item to wear so that Harry could come and go already dressed up.

It quickly taught him to dread every owl making its way through his window and carrying anything larger than a letter. He was alarmed that he could now identify the type of the dress, the material it was made from, the exact colour and shade; to discern different patterns around the hem and the sleeves and to wonder how it would feel against his skin.

His feet just like his corset-laced upper body were no better off; the heels were getting higher, giving Harry a distinct impression of walking with a tip of an arrow stuck in his heel. His calves screamed with pain, his thighs joined in and his legs permanently trembled with the effort it took him each time to impale himself on Malfoy’s cock, hold himself in place and fuck himself while Malfoy enjoyed the show. Harry’s hands ached with the force it took him to refrain from strangling Malfoy and his ass was constantly on fire.

What he needed now was a long hot bath to relax his limbs and wash away all the traces of Malfoy’s presence in and out of his body. But with five minutes to spare he could afford nothing more than a quick shower accompanied by frantic scrubbing that would leave him raw and itching.

So five minutes later, wet from head to toe, his face and ass blessedly clean, Harry spit the remnants of Malfoy’s come from his mouth and brushed his teeth and tongue with enough force to rip them out. His head hurt from where Malfoy tugged on his hair while his jaws hurt from sucking Malfoy off – the stupid wanker took some potion that provided him with unusually long endurance and he wouldn’t come for a long time no matter how thoroughly and professionally Harry worked his mouth around his cock.

He might not have been very proficient at giving blow jobs when called to the task for the first time, but after two months of practice Harry had become somewhat of an expert; at least when it came to Malfoy and what sent him shooting his load down Harry’s throat in a matter of time. But not today; today Malfoy was hard to please and almost impossible to make come, ignoring all the little tricks that usually set him off and making Harry’s work so much more difficult and his wish to bite into his flesh and put an end to it almost impossible to resist. And then to add insult to injury, Malfoy pulled out half-way, making Harry choke mid-swallow, and spurted the rest of his spunk over his face.

Shuddering at the memory, Harry got under the covers and closed his eyes. Ron and Hermione were usually more punctual than that but Harry didn’t mind their lateness today.

His body was humming as tiredness and strain of the day were slowly dissipating; his head lolled back onto the pillow, the muscles in his neck going lax. He sighed and stretched. He wanted to sleep badly but he had to stay awake until Kreacher announced Ron and Hermione’s arrival. Then he would drag himself up, put on something soft and comfortable and join them in the drawing-room for dinner and a chat, successfully forgetting about Malfoy and his cock and the fact that the two were now forever connected in his brain and largely dominated his life.

Ron would tell him about the joke shop, Hermione would give a long-winded speech about how the Ministry was still too much controlled by pure-bloods and their outdated attitudes towards Muggle-borns and house-elves and then together they would burst into an excited babble over their upcoming baby and the latest preparations they’ve been undertaking. Harry, meanwhile, would listen to them with a bland smile, nodding enthusiastically when necessary and pretending that he couldn’t feel his heart break over and over again or the way bitterness gathered in his throat enough to choke him.

He didn’t begrudge them their happiness – after all they were his best friends – but he did wish to have someone for himself too; preferably tall, red-head and freckled. Harry shook his head. What a stupid fantasy. He should never have let his feelings for Ron run unchecked until it was too late. Of course, he had trained himself to keep them locked away from anyone’s notice but if Malfoy knew – Merlin knew how – then it was quite possible that Hermione, shrewd as she was, knew as well. But as long as Ron remained clueless, Harry was fine. He didn’t want him to freak out and put an end to their friendship as it was the only unlimited access Harry could ever have to him.

Everybody seemed to be getting married, having or planning on having kids and getting on with their lives, while he was stuck in some sort of personalized nightmare thanks to Malfoy, who found a perfect way of practising his perverted ways without running the risk of it getting leaked out and splashed all over the Daily Prophet. But it clashed horribly with Harry’s lifestyle, turning him from an Auror by day to a rent-boy by night or any other part of the day for that matter.

It was understandable that an influential, high ranking and married Ministry official that Malfoy had become in a surprisingly short time since the war, considering his family reputation in its wake, couldn’t afford to frequent a brothel or spend time looking for a lover who would not mind playing dress-up with him or would not run to the papers with a fully detailed account of their trysts in a fit of anger. But Harry, backed into a corner and willing to go to any lengths to keep his best friend who also happened to be the man he loved out of Azkaban, was the next best thing, came quite cheap, in any packaging and wrapping Malfoy desired and was just an owl away.

Harry frowned and, turning on his stomach, burrowed further under the covers as if they would keep him safe from reality. He hated what he had been reduced to in a couple of months and he wondered when Malfoy would stop screwing with him and treating him like a whore. Exhausted, Harry drifted off to sleep, unaware that miles away Ron was holding a sobbing Hermione as she was crying her heart out over the lost baby.

If anyone asked Harry what was the worst he had to go through at Malfoy Manor, in his new capacity, Harry’s mind would instantly zoom to his one and only encounter with Astoria Malfoy – the new ice queen of the manor – that happened a week after Ron and Hermione didn’t show up.

She was standing in the middle of the hall, one hand regally poised on the banister, as if waiting for him to come closer. Harry made half a dozen uncertain steps forward and stopped a few feet away from her. He would not be able to pass without her moving out of the way first. He looked up at her and when their eyes met Harry knew that she knew the reason behind his visit but he braced himself and stared unflinchingly back, waiting for the first blow to fall. She was bound to say something hurtful even if her face didn’t betray any emotions. This was clearly the woman cut out to carry the Malfoy name.

She wore a silvery halter dress that hugged her upper body and fell in shimmering waves downwards before splashing in a pool of pearly light at her feet. With a jolt Harry recognized the dress as the one he was forced to wear a couple of weeks ago. The thought made him sick as he stared at her, his mouth going dry. She looked beautiful and ethereal in the glow of the chandelier from above, unlike Harry who looked ridiculous and stick-like and about as sexy as a Bowtruckle in it. He knew from personal experience that her back was naked just like her shoulders. In fact, the dress dipped so low that half of his ass was exposed when he put it on.

She looked him slowly up and down and Harry could see mockery shining in her eyes. He was a joke to her. Her husband’s fuck toy.

‘Mr. Potter.’ she said, her eyebrows raised as if wondering how anyone could choose to spend any quality time with him rather than her.

‘Mrs. Malfoy.’ replied Harry, trying not to stumble over the words with embarrassment.

‘I would order a house-elf to take you upstairs but I have been informed that there is no need as you know the way perfectly well.’

She stepped aside and made a wrist movement to show Harry that he was dismissed but as he started ascending the stairs, his heart beating loudly in his ears, she called after him –

‘Oh and Mr. Potter,’ she made a pause to gain his full attention, ‘trash goes through the back door. Try not to forget it next time you’re here.’

His face burning and his eyes stinging with injustice, Harry rushed up the stairs and burst into the room only to find it empty. He flung his fists against the wall but it was a pitiful attempt to get rid of his anger. Walls and furniture did nothing to him and they were a wrong object to concentrate his rage on. What he needed was to smash Malfoy’s face into a bloody pulp; to hurt him as much as he hurt him. So he took his breathing under control and leaned against the wall, waiting for Malfoy’s arrival. And when the door opened and Malfoy walked in, Harry pounced on him from behind, hitting any part of him he could reach and trying to tackle him to the floor.

Once on the floor, straddling Malfoy – and how familiar was that position by now – Harry started to hit him in earnest. However, having overcome his shock at being accosted, Malfoy managed to dislodge Harry, whose anger had completely blinded him to rational thought and action, and pushed him to lie on the floor, painfully pressing his elbow into his chest. Breathing harshly, Malfoy retrieved his wand from the back pocket of his trousers and cast a spell on Harry, binding his body with tight, snake-like ropes. Clenching his teeth so as not to scream, Harry struggled against the bonds now holding him prisoner.

Malfoy stood up, brushed off his clothes and stared at Harry as he thrashed on the floor.

‘I see you’ve met Astoria.’ he said calmly. ‘She was particularly difficult to drive out of the house tonight. In fact, she insisted on staying and greeting you. But I guess it didn’t go overly well with you.’

Harry stopped struggling and lay on the floor, breathing heavily both from the struggle and the force with which the ropes held him. Though he tried to enforce some calmness back into his body, tremors overrode him now and he was shaking uncontrollably. It took him a while to realize that he was crying. He was breaking down. And in front of Malfoy too.

Suddenly it was all too much. The past week was full of misery and strain without Malfoy adding to it. Harry spent it comforting Ron when he was not busy comforting Hermione, watching as their bond grew stronger and taking care of the evidence of their shattered dream. It effected him as much as it effected them but he couldn’t allow his grief to show, because it was their loss to mourn and he was there to provide comfort and help rather then take part in indulging it.

‘Stand up.’ ordered Malfoy, towering over him with his wand now firmly clasped in his hand.

It was not easy, considering that Harry was magically bound but as soon as Malfoy issued his order, Harry felt the ropes shift so that his legs were free to move. But it was still a long and awkward process and when Harry managed to get on his knees, he was level with Malfoy’s crotch that Malfoy didn’t fail to rub tauntingly against Harry’s face.

When Harry was finally standing, Malfoy tugged painfully at his hair, almost unbalancing him, and hissed –

‘Do anything stupid again and the deal’s off.’

Harry swayed on the spot. He wanted this to stop. He wanted Malfoy to find another toy to play with. He wanted Ron to want more than just support from him. He felt like falling back on his knees and begging Malfoy to let him go. He couldn’t do it today. He leaned his forehead against Malfoy’s shoulder, his posture pleading for mercy.

‘Let me go.’ he whispered.

He was shaking. Malfoy considered him for some time, one of his hands, gripping Harry’s hip, serving as a reminded that he was here against his will, the other idly tracing Harry’s spine.

‘Lie on the bed.’ he commanded at last.

Bed and Malfoy had never before entered the equation, thought Harry. Not that it mattered, because it would hurt on the bed as much as it hurt in the chair, on the table or against the wall. So he did as he was bid. He climbed onto the bed and lay there, curled on his side and still as a statue. Malfoy climbed into bed after him and did something surprising: he wrapped his arms around Harry so that Harry’s head now rested against his chest.

Malfoy’s hand was cradling through his hair that was still tingling with the rough treatment and, unless Harry was very much mistaken, Malfoy was pressing light kisses and, strangely enough, murmuring soothing nonsense into his hair. Harry didn’t question him. Malfoy wouldn’t tell him anyway and comfort of any sort was in high demand at the moment and so highly welcome. He fell asleep in Malfoy’s arms. He woke up in his own house, in his own bed.

fanart

farida@normaplus.com — Thu, 07 May 2009 18:04:57 GMT

Scorpius greets Harry as he comes from a gruelling day at the Ministry with a few well-placed touches

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 10

farida@normaplus.com — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 12:32:55 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 3938
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.

‘Want some hot chocolate?’

Harry did a double-take and stared at his son in wonder, feeble tendrils of hope stirring in his chest. Al’s voice didn’t shake with suppressed anger and his eyes didn’t shoot arrows of fire at him.

‘Sure.’ said Harry.

Al nodded and went to the kitchen, leaving Harry to stare wide-eyed at the spot he had just vacated. A slow smile spread across his face. Was it possible that Al had finally come around? Harry’s imagination didn’t stretch as far as to believe that he was completely forgiven but it was a nice change and he could have laughed with relief.

He was tired of walking on egg-shells around the flat and keep as much distance from Scorpius as he could so as not to set Al off. Even when he was out, neither Harry nor Scorpius dared to initiate anything other than heated staring sessions across the room. They were like a pair of scalded cats too scared to set foot into the kitchen again.

During this, admittedly, short period of time, Harry realised that he missed Scorpius’s touch – wanted it, longed for it, craved it – and hoped that Scorpius didn’t change his mind about the dating scheme that he so unsuccessfully tried to launch.

When Al came back with two mugs of steaming chocolate they sat down on the couch, for a while simply sitting there and drinking in comfortable silence. But Harry knew that it wouldn’t last long, because Al was obviously ready to talk about Harry-Scorpius situation and Harry was both curious and anxious to hear what he had on his mind. The three of them had done a lot of thinking for the past week and now it seemed that it was time to share.

‘It doesn’t mean that I’m not angry anymore or that my shock wore off completely – it didn’t.’ said Al eventually, putting his mug down on the small round table by the couch as if he didn’t trust himself to hold it and speak his mind at the same time.

‘Fair enough.’ said Harry, inclining his head in agreement. In contrast to Al, he clutched his mug tightly in his hands as if its warmth would protect him from Al’s harsh words.

‘But I am worried about what’s going on. And most of all I’m worried about you.’ He gave a shrug. ‘I always closed my eyes on Scorpius’s way of handling his affairs but this is way too close to home and while Scorpius is my best friend, you’re my father and I protect my family first.’ Al took a deep breath and his hand clenched and unclenched by his side as if he’d rather throttle someone than utter his next words. ‘I must warn you, if you haven’t figured it out for yourself yet, that Scorpius doesn’t take his conquests seriously. And you’re nothing but a conquest to him. His liaisons don’t last long and he is the one to determine when they come to an end. You never know when it can happen but you can bet it will take you by surprise. He can be charming and irresistible, but he will ridicule anyone who is stupid enough to fall for him. In fact, we always had a good hearty laugh at the poor dears.’ Al cleared his throat uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck, not looking at Harry. ‘I wish I could say that he won’t treat you with as little respect and consideration as he treated the others, but then, I foolishly believed that he wouldn’t make a move on you. And you actually took the bait!’ he burst out in the end before elapsing into silence, finally running out of breath and things to say.

It was the longest speech Harry could ever remember Al making. He was impressed by the steadiness of his voice, the doggedness with which he pursued the point and the unflinching attitude with which he addressed the issue even though it was plain that it was hard for him to do it. Harry could not have been prouder of him and he doubted that he himself could be just as brave if he had to inform his father that he was just an entertainment for a rich pure-blood boy.

Harry turned to look at Al and have his say – he wanted to keep an eye contact while delivering his answering statement. He expected to find censure, incomprehension in his eyes, but stumbled upon pity. Harry frowned, wondering why Al pitied him. It’s not like he expected a marriage proposal from Scorpius after their month-long romp in the kitchen.

‘Why do I get the feeling that you pity me?’ asked Harry, forgetting what he wanted to say.

Al rolled his eyes.

‘Dad, you may be one of the best Aurors in the history of Auror department but when it comes to relationships you’re a complete ninny.’

Harry narrowed his eyes and put his mug down with extra force.

‘’Dad, I’m not saying this to offend you,’ said Al soothingly. ‘but you really don’t know all that much about relationships. You are easily manipulated. Mom always manipulated you into doing whatever she wanted and she would have manipulated you now, if Scorpius hadn’t got there first and manipulated you into thinking that you like what you’re doing together.’

‘I like what we’re doing together.’ said Harry. He really did. He saw no point denying it. After all, it was pretty obvious.

‘So now what – you’re suddenly gay? Did he convince you of that too?’ asked Al, impatience in his voice. ‘Are you head over heels in love with him or what?’

Harry shook his head, a small smile playing on his face.

‘I didn’t say that. I don’t reckon I’m ready to jump to any conclusions and brand myself. I’ve been branded enough throughout my school days and still get branded a lot to want another tag attached to my name. I’m just saying that I like what Scorpius and I are doing. I’ve never had much of a chance to properly experiment with what I like when I was younger. At school I was too busy dealing with all the bizarre, unexpected and unconquerable and after school I was expected to set up an exemplary life and to live up to everybody’s image of me as an iconic hero, so that they could sleep better at night, knowing that I stand on guard of the wizarding community, always ready to defend and protect them from danger.’

Harry was alarmed and slightly ashamed at the level of bitterness that crept into his voice by the end of the speech, in startling contrast to the light-hearted note with which it began. He hoped that he didn’t go overboard with the drama, but why should he hide his feelings from his own son? Bottling up his rage inside was never a good thing. He didn’t even know that he felt this way until he let it all out.

Al was the first to break the silence.

‘Dad – just be careful. I know Scorpius. He swoops down, takes what he wants and then leaves. This begs the question of why he is still with you after almost a month.’

‘Thanks, Al.’ said Harry sarcastically.

‘Well, it’s true.’ said Al with a shrug, musing over the point. ‘He doesn’t do relationships. And I hope you don’t think that just because you two are sharing living quarters it means that you are in one.’

Now it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes.

‘Al, honestly, I might not have been in many relationships but I know what one constitutes. Who do you think I am? A silly school-girl with a crush on her professor? I’m a big boy and, besides, I’m not sure I’m ready for another relationship, seeing as how I’m still married.’

Al opened his mouth to say something but Harry cut across.

‘And forestalling any further questions of similar nature, I can assure you that though I’m not ready for another fully-fledged relationship, I’m not going to jump from partner to partner either. Something tells me that one night stands are not my cup of tea.’

‘What about mom?’ asked Al, biting his lip. His voice was suddenly very small and he looked no older than eleven. ‘You didn’t mention her. You’re not going to get back with her, are you?’

Harry hugged Al and sighed.

‘Your mother and I will have to talk first and it will be a long conversation. I know that we have behaved like children in the past few months but no one said that being grown-up keeps you from acting foolishly. I still love your mother and I will always care for her and I hope that we’ll be able to co-exist peacefully and remain friends, but I’m afraid that this connection that we used to have, that made us a couple, is gone. I can’t pretend not to understand that she had someone on her mind when she left me – ‘

‘And now you have someone on your mind and you don’t need her anymore.’ finished Al dully.

‘I just can’t get back to the simple life we had, Al; life without lies and doubts. I don’t want to wake up every day, wondering if she’s happy with me, guessing who it was that made her leave me so abruptly and expecting her to do so again.’ said Harry.

Their further conversation was put on hold by the arrival of Scorpius. He looked unusually dishevelled, something that never happened unless he was pounding into Harry. He stopped when he saw the two of them and stared with narrowed eyes.

‘Hey, Scorpius.’ said Al mildly.

Scorpius’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

‘So I’m Scorpius again, am I?’ he drawled and then grinned so suddenly that Harry gasped. Thankfully, no one noted this embarrassing detail, because at that very moment Scorpius tickled Al under his chin with the words ‘Have your heart of stone finally melted?’ and Al yelled: ‘Shove off!’

Taking it as a good sign and laughing, Scorpius flopped on the sofa, placing his hand on Harry’s lap. Without giving it a second thought, Harry started threading his fingers through his hair, soothing angry strands back from his forehead.

‘How was the rehearsal?’ asked Al in a very neutral voice that didn’t hide his discomfort.

Scorpius groaned.

‘That was the worst rehearsal ever! No one could remember their lines after so long and dear old Clothilde started hexing us after the second failed attempt. Stupid bint.’

‘Poor baby.’ crooned Al, leaning over to scratch Scorpius’s nose. ‘What hex did she use on you? Something to do with your hair, I reckon. Was it instant scalping? You must have put some kind of a fight, judging by the way it looks.’

‘Ha-ha.’

Scorpius waved him off as he would an annoying fly and narrowed his eyes, looking upside down at Al’s grinning face.

‘Al, don’t you have a chick to snog or something?’ asked Scorpius, throwing a very meaningful look at Harry, causing Harry to blush and Al to yell ‘ARGH!’, before leaving the couch at a leap as if he’d been pinched by Venomous Tentacula on the backside.

Scorpius laughed not at all kindly and as soon as Al was out of the flat, with a very pronounced bang, scrambled on top of Harry and pinned him to the couch.

‘That will get rid of him for a long time.’ he announced with relish before fastening his mouth onto Harry’s with all of his usual force.

Breaking apart was harder than ever. Harry didn’t care about breathing at this point; all he cared about was that Scorpius didn’t stop kissing him. It’s been almost a week and Harry admitted that he was addicted. But when Scorpius got his fill, he looked at Harry and Harry knew the look: it meant that more was yet to come.

‘It’s been a horrible day.’ said Scorpius conversationally, his eyes tracing Harry’s face calculatingly. ‘But not without its compensations.’ he added with a predatory smile. ‘I’ve been busy thinking about your ass and the moment I would finally have it. Couldn’t concentrate on my lines. Not when your ass was all I could think about.’

Scorpius’s voice turned savage, his eyes smouldering Harry. And if he kept talking like that, it would not be long before Harry burnt to a crisp the way his face was burning. But unlike Harry, who had trouble even thinking about what he wanted without turning bright red, Scorpius had never shied away from voicing his desire. In fact, he preferred to tell Harry exactly what he wanted to do to him before proceeding with his actions.

‘Turn around.’ commanded Scorpius, moving back to give Harry enough space to manoeuvre on the couch. Suddenly kitchen and its surfaces, appliances and all seemed like a much more convenient place to be having sex, but Harry did as he was told. He was shocked to note that he was actually trembling with anticipation; he could feel every cell of his body humming with want like a happy Puffskein. He was affected too much by Scorpius and he hoped that the note meant that Scorpius was not in it just for fun. It struck him that Al was right to worry about him; his heart was very much at stake.

Harry settled on his hands and knees, breathing hard, and waiting for the spell that would remove his clothes. But it never happened. What happened next struck Harry speechless, because it had never happened before: Scorpius’s wand cluttered to the floor and he started removing Harry’s pants by hand, slowly, gently, almost reverently; as if undressing Harry was a blessing and not a necessary part of the process.

‘Scorpius – what?’ gasped out Harry when he felt Scorpius kneading his ass. He shivered and squeezed his eyes shut when Scorpius actually pressed a kiss – Harry shuddered – he was pretty sure that this part of him wasn’t meant to be kissed and wanted to point that out to Scorpius, only he couldn’t, because at that very moment Scorpius breath slid between the cheeks, immediately followed by his probing tongue. Harry’s eyes popped open and he yelped –

‘What the bloody hell?!’

Lick.

‘Shit!’

Another lick. The tongue in his ass seemed to be enjoying itself, twisting and turning and going deeper with every lick. Harry closed his eyes again and bit hard on the arm of the couch, coughing out its stuffing and his words the next moment.

‘Scorpius – you – can’t – do – that!’

‘I can do what I damn well please.’ declared Scorpius before plunging his tongue back into Harry’s ass.

Now Scorpius was slurping inside the crevice with gusto and Harry was shuddering with pleasure. Harry didn’t think that he had ever been this embarrassed or aroused before. It was the dirtiest and the most unreal thing that he had ever done in his life and the way his body reacted to it did not at all reassure him. But then it wasn’t the first time that he had to seriously question his sanity since his involvement with Scorpius.

When he finally came, after much thrashing and moaning and arm-biting, and Scorpius’s tongue retracted, Harry sagged into the couch and hid his face in his hands. He was waiting for flames of embarrassment to burn him down, for the couch to swallow him up whole, for anything – anything – to happen and prevent him from facing Scorpius ever again. Scorpius, however, had other ideas. He started nudging Harry upwards, chuckling in his ear and tracing the back of his neck, the shell of his ear and the side of his cheek with his tongue – tongue that moments ago had been inside his ass – tongue that he was now trying to push into his mouth.

Harry shook his head when Scorpius finally flipped him over and settled on top of him.

‘Don’t even think about it.’ he growled. ‘Don’t even think about kissing me after this.’

Scorpius laughed.

‘Come on, Harry, don’t be such a prude.’

‘I’m not a prude,’ huffed Harry. ‘but your tongue is staying away from the inside of my mouth!’

‘What? My dirty tongue?’ drawled Scorpius, drawing a complicated pattern along Harry’s neck, using his tongue and occasionally teeth. ‘But I know how much you love it when I’m dirty. And you’re always ready to take what I give you.’

And to prove his point, Scorpius thrust his tongue into Harry’s mouth, forcing him into the kiss just like that very first time against the club wall, swallowing his protests and enjoying his fight.

They remained on the couch long after their struggle was over. Scorpius was lying on top of Harry with his head on his chest in perfect contentment and Harry was once again trailing his fingers through his hair. It was the most peaceful they had ever been and Harry wondered if now was a good time for the talk.

‘Scorpius?’ he called, tugging slightly on Scorpius’s hair.

‘What?’ mumbled Scorpius into his chest. ‘M’sleeping.’

‘I know about the date thing.’ said Harry.

There was a moment of silence and then Scorpius rose slowly on his elbows to look at Harry. They were digging painfully into Harry’s chest but it didn’t matter, not if this kind of pain was soon to be replaced with something much more painful, something like heartache.

‘Al told you.’ he stated grimly.

‘I saw the note.’ said Harry. ‘I was hoping to actually receive it at some point.’

Scorpius snorted.

‘After it blew up in my face?’

‘Did you change your mind?’ asked Harry, his heart beating so violently he was sure it would dislodge Scorpius. Harry wondered if it actually happened, when Scorpius drew back. But then Scorpius placed his hands on either side of Harry, effectively entrapping him, as if what he was about to say would make Harry bolt.

‘Did Al tell you how long I’ve had a thing for you?’ he asked.

Harry shook his head. If possible his heart’s beating only intensified.

‘It wasn’t his place to tell. He only described your track record and warned me not to get too attached to you. He thinks that it’s a dangerous thing and very unwise, considering that you’ll give me a boot once you’ve had all your fun.’ said Harry, sounding amused, though his heart was in a kind of hysteria. ‘He was quite surprised that you haven’t done it by now, actually.’

‘Sodding bastard.’ hissed Scorpius, shaking his head. ‘He should know better.’

He looked back up at Harry. Harry could feel Scorpius’s hands trembling against his skin and shivered when they caressed his sides, before locking him in a firm embrace, squeezing his breath out.

‘I had a thing for you for years.’ said Scorpius at last. ‘A huge thing, if you must know. That’s the reason why I never tried to have a relationship with anyone. I wasn’t looking for a love interest – I was looking for a substitute. I didn’t think it was worth my while getting attached to someone who wasn’t you and at first I just wanted to make them hurt as much as I hurt when that thing for you became too great to hold inside without an outlet.

I never in million years imagined that you’d be available one day or I would have stalled jumping into bed with the second-best look-alike I came across. But then your wife left you and I thought I’d try to seduce you, get you into bed with me, do all sorts of things to you, fulfil my every dream before you knew what hit you. Of course, I gave you time after the club to come to terms with what had happened, but before I could proceed with my next step your wife came back.

I was furious. I wanted to take you away from her. I was waiting for an opportunity to make my move regardless her presence in your life. At times I grew so desperate that I could have barged into your house and take you away by force, keep you in the dark, hidden from the rest of the world and her. After I had smelled you, tasted you, kissed you, held you I couldn’t stop wanting you, wanting more. And then Al told me all about your rift and I rejoiced.

When you moved in with us I went wild with need and fear. I wanted to have you, own you, possess you. I knew that it was just a matter of time before you went back to her. I tried to punish you for using me as a rebound but at the same time I wanted – needed – to get as much of you as I could before you came back to your senses and left. The funny thing was that you didn’t even think about going. No matter what I did to you and how possessively and aggressively I behaved, you took it all amazingly well.

You were perfect and I didn’t want to let you go. I wanted to show you that I wasn’t emotionally-stunted and hormone-driven and that I cared only about my pleasure. I wanted to show you that I cared about you. So I screwed up all of my courage, stuffed away my self-preservation that screamed at me not to show you my feelings and wrote you that note. I thought I’d try to ask you out and see how it goes. I wanted to show you that I could do romance.’

He broke off for a gulp of breath and spoke again, his eyes glowing, his voice shaking.

‘I want to try to be in a relationship with you or whatever you want it to be. Whatever you are ready for. I want us to be together, that’s all. I never wanted anyone like I want you. I’ll let you top.’

Harry laughed and kissed Scorpius, who had become very flustered by now; two pink patches shone on his cheeks like setting suns and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.

Such a confession merited a very long, rewarding kiss and Harry was only too happy to give it. It was nice to know that Scorpius could take his breath away with his words as well as his actions. It was unbelievable that he could inspire such intense feelings in someone, least of all a young, handsome wizard who could have anyone he wanted.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Harry wondered if Ginny ever loved him like that. Did he love her like that? Somehow their passion never reached the point when one would actually want to possess the other.

‘So how about that date thing then?’ asked Harry when they broke apart, happiness swelling in his chest. ‘Are we still on?’

‘You bet we are.’ replied Scorpius with a happy grin. ‘I still have a reservation at Falcon’s Beak – it’s a new restaurant in Diagon Alley – you need months just to get on the waiting list. Unless you’re a Malfoy, of course.’ he said smugly. ‘And a Potter, I suppose.’ he added as an afterthought.

It was a long shot, Harry knew it, and maybe nothing would even come out of it, but it was definitely worth a try. The long-forgotten fountain of excitement, adventure and anticipation was bubbling in his blood and it was a crime to put it back under the lid. He had no idea what would happen next but he couldn’t wait to find out.

The End

Thank you for reading! I hope it was worth it! It occurred to me that I’d love to write a sequel to this fic, where I’d deal with Harry and Scorpius settling into their new life, complete with doubts, insecurities and domestic troubles, moving into Grimmuald Place or maybe buying a house of their own; follow the various reactions of their families’, friends’ and the wizarding community at large to the news and, of course, Harry’s divorce with Ginny, who will be completely crushed and will make the process a painful one for both herself and Harry. It will be something completely new for me to write!

However, it will have to wait until I’m through with my next Harry/Scorpius project and other fics waiting in line :D

Please review!

Chapter 1

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 9

farida@normaplus.com — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 18:48:04 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 2694
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.

Harry was making his way back after a gruelling day at the Ministry. He was tired, angry and frustrated and needed to take the edge off more than anything else. A nice meal, a hot bath or a good night’s sleep would not do the trick. He hoped that Al was away, because he was in the mood for hard and fast shagging Scorpius-style. But as he approached the door to their flat, all thoughts of instant gratification left Harry’s mind at the sound of Al’s and Scorpius’s raised voices. Those were the unmistakable sounds of a fight, accompanied by actual curses flying around and occasionally shaking the walls with their force.

The wards were down and they didn’t hear the click of the lock with all the racket they were making, but Harry stopped dead, his hand inches away from the doorknob. He was seized by dread and panic, because he had never heard Al and Scorpius so much as have an argument before and something told him that they weren’t fighting over who ate the last helping of treacle tart. In fact, Harry knew what exactly could set Al off to start hurling hexes at his best friend. After another painful moment, stilling himself for the worst, Harry opened the door and slipped inside, creeping like a thief along the dark corridor to the source of the action. Then, stopping on the other side of the living-room, he held his breath and listened.

‘So this is how much our friendship means to you!’

That was Al. His words were followed by a Bat-Bogey Hex, that missed the target but hit the wall with a nasty splatter.

‘Al, honestly, don’t be such a drama queen! You’re my best friend – of course, your friendship means a lot to me.’ replied Scorpius. He was slightly out of breath and Harry imagined that he was dancing on the spot to try to avoid direct contact with Al’s next spell. ‘You’re my only friend.’ he added soothingly.

‘And no wonder if that’s how you treat them! Confringo!’

‘Al!’ yelled Scorpius, a real note of panic entering his voice as another curse missed him and, by the sound of it, blasted a sizable hole in the wall. Harry was relieved that it was not the wall he was leaning against or he would have been sporting a nice hole instead of his stomach now. Upon quick reflection, he decided that he couldn’t just stand there unprotected and wait for his organs to be donated to the cause and moved back into the corridor. It’s not like he couldn’t hear what was going on from there.

‘Expelliarmus!’ yelled Scorpius now, but Al was too quick for him and deflected it with timely ‘Protego!’ that blasted Scorpius off his feet. He hit the floor with a painful ‘Oof!’ as breath was knocked out of him. Harry cringed. He could just imagine how that would hurt and not so much Scorpius’s backside as his Malfoy pride. Harry knew that he acted like a coward, standing and eavesdropping, but he had never seen his son in a battle-mode before and he was secretly pleased to catch him at it and extremely curious to know what he would do and how he would cope. Harry decided not to abandon his hope that Al would join the Auror department just yet.

‘Al,’ gasped Scorpius, still on the floor. He obviously decided that Al would not attack him while he was down. ‘Can you stop this ridiculous display and look at it from my point of view? You’ve always known my preferences and what I go for in a man. Did you really expect me to turn my back on such a golden opportunity as this? Al, we’re Slytherins. We don’t walk away from a chance when it presents itself.’

Harry’s eyebrows rose and his jaw dropped A chance? A golden opportunity? What was that? What did Scorpius mean?

‘I expected you to keep your word, Scorpius! Slytherin or not.’ replied Al. He was walking in angry circles now, his wand poised at the ready. ‘I never cared what you did with your other men, but my father was supposed to be off-limits! Remember? You promised me to stay away from him! You promised to keep your hands – and other parts of your body – off him! That was the deal!’

‘Don’t forget, Al, that when I made my promise, your father was happily married to your mother – ’ started Scorpius.

‘He is still married to my mother!’ interrupted Al, furiously. ‘Just because they’ve got problems at the moment, doesn’t mean that they won’t get back together! And they would have by now if you haven’t seduced him into your bed and convinced him that that’s where he had to stay!’

‘And were he to remain so – happily married that is – I would do exactly as I promised.’ continued Scorpius as if Al had not interrupted him. ‘But when he walked straight into my arms, lost, miserable and heartbroken, I saw my chance to do something to make him feel better. So I took care of him.’

‘More like swooped down on him and took advantage! He was desperate and vulnerable and you should have left him alone! I know my dad: he’s clueless when it comes to such things. Why did you have to do it?’ Al almost wailed the last part. ‘I don’t know why we’re even friends, Scorpius. I hate you so much right now I could hex your face off! Though, I suppose it’s not your face I should blame. How would you like a Severing Charm applied to your private bits?’ he asked conversationally, while menacingly twirling his wand.

Not that Harry could actually see what was happening, but he used his imagination to fill in the blanks, listening keenly to every movement that accompanied their words.

Scorpius apparently didn’t wait for Al to go with his threat and leapt to his feet. The duel began for real this time. They didn’t talk anymore, but yelled hexes and jinxes at each other at a rapid pace. They were not particularly dangerous, but, Harry thought, that their combined effect on an individual could become a problem. That was his cue to interfere.

Quite apart from not wishing muggles to become aware of their magical presence and Ministry of Magic officials to arrive and sort out the mess, Harry didn’t want Al and Scorpius to completely demolish the flat and their friendship in the process. It was not worth it. What he and Scorpius had was not worth such sacrifice. Though, Harry started to think that there was more to it than Scorpius let on. But now was really not the time to contemplate the dimensions of their relationship.

With swift, practiced movements, amidst spells and sparks, Harry immobilized and disarmed the duellers, before suspending them in the air with ‘Incarcerous’ and grimly holding their wands in one hand.

Looking stunned at the sudden intrusion, hovering like over-sized puppets a few inches above the floor, both Al and Scorpius glared at him. Harry looked them over and sighed: singed, ripped clothes, black eyes, bloody lips, sting marks, smoking hair…

‘You!’ yelled Al, overcoming his shock quickly enough and startling Harry out of his inspection. Sooner than he would have wished. ‘How could you?! How could you?! How?!’

Harry winced.

‘Al, my eardrums are hurting from your infernal screeching. Can you tone it down?’ asked Scorpius lazily and Harry recognized characteristic Malfoy drawl he so hated at Hogwarts.

‘I thought you needed a place to think – not to fuck!’ screamed Al, disregarding Scorpius’s request.

Harry supposed he deserved that, though he didn’t like Al using the word. However, pointing it out now was not wise, considering that this was indeed what he and Scorpius have been doing and Al somehow got wind of it. Harry knew that there was nothing he could say that would take the blame off him or placate his son. The situation looked bad and Scorpius wasn’t helping.

‘Al, please, I’m sure you’ve done enough screaming for one day. Give it a rest. Your dad needs a good fuck once in a while. And come to think of it – so do you. You’re terribly uptight about the whole thing.’

He gave Al an exaggerated once over.

‘I’m sure I could disregard the fact that you are far too young for my average shag, as a sign of our friendship of course, and oblige you.’

‘Go fuck yourself, Malfoy! I’m not gay!’ snarled Al, looking disgustedly at his friend.

Scorpius snorted.

‘I don’t remember celebrating at your father’s coming out party either and yet he doesn’t complain. What?’ he asked innocently when he caught Harry’s glare. ‘You do.’

‘That might be so, Scorpius, but that is no reason to flaunt it in my son’s face.’ gritted out Harry.

‘So what did he do, eh?’ snapped Al, immediately hating the long look they shared. ‘Wait, I know.’ he added with a healthy amount of derision that was very unlike him. ‘He asked you to listen to his band play, right? Bought you a drink. Took matters in his own hands from there. Blowed you for starters. Maybe even snogged you after. Oh, don’t look so surprised, dad, that’s Scorpius and his usual routine of getting men into bed.’

Harry coughed, shook his head and tried to speak. Looking Al in the eye was proving to be very uncomfortable. Yes, getting involved with your son’s best friend was a bad thing, considering how well they knew each other. It was almost like getting involved with your own son. Harry shuddered.

‘Al, you must understand that as I was not as intimately acquainted with this routine of his, Scorpius took me by surprise.’

Al snorted, Harry grimaced; it sounded weak and unconvincing even to his own ears.

‘Oh, Harry,’ drawled Scorpius. ‘I can take you anyhow you want, anywhere you want, you know that. All you have to do is ask.’

‘That’s it! You’re so going to die, Malfoy!’ yelled Al, outraged. ‘Give me my wand, dad! I’m gonna kill him!’

Harry flushed and glared at Scorpius. He was never this unmanageable before.

‘Scorpius, now would be a good time to keep your mouth shut.’

‘But, Harry,’ continued Scorpius in the same vein. ‘I’m sure you know a very effective way of shutting me up. Use your mouth and tongue and that’ll do the trick.’

‘Langlock!’ said Harry before he could stop himself. Scorpius looked shocked as the hex effectively fastened his tongue to the roof of his mouth, making him choke on whatever he was about to say next.

‘Scorpius, what exactly are you trying to do here?’ asked Harry angrily; though he didn’t know if he was more angry with Scorpius for provoking Al or at himself for actually using a hex on him. ‘Make Al hate you?’

‘What? More than he already does?’ asked Scorpius bitterly, after Harry lifted the spell. Harry shook his head.

‘He doesn’t hate you. He’s just – ‘

‘Yeah, I do!’ snarled Al. ‘I hate this piece of shit.’

‘Al, mind your tongue.’ snapped Harry and then sighed, rubbing his face.

The tiredness that had stepped back in the face of the friendship and family crisis returned with redoubled force and he needed quiet to think about what to do next and how to stop Al from hating them both.

‘Listen,’ he said finally. ‘What we need is to calm down. This yelling and hexing business will hardly solve the matter. I think that you should both go to your rooms and calm down. I will cook something for dinner and then we will eat. Like we always do. Can I trust you both not to hex each other when I release you?’

Al just glared at him, while Scorpius sneered with feigned indifference. But his face was flushed and his eyes shone with emotions Harry couldn’t identify and didn’t have time to examine too closely at the moment. He would just have to deal with it later.

‘Al,’ said Harry with forced calm. ‘I know that it has come as a nasty shock, that you didn’t expect it, and I cannot justify myself enough, but you can’t set your friendship of many years aflame just because you don’t like Scorpius’s choice of a – er – ’

‘Bed partner.’ supplied Scorpius helpfully, grinning evilly at Al.

‘Fine!’ snapped Al, glaring at Scorpius. ‘Let me go. I can’t be with the two of you in the same room at the moment.’ He rolled his eyes when Harry just looked suspiciously at him. ‘All right! All right! I’m not going to curse him! Happy?’

Harry lifted his spells, gave them back their wands and frogmarched them out of the living-room and into their rooms. On his way to the kitchen, Harry inspected the living-room and the damage. It would have to be repaired. There were holes in the walls, the floor and the ceiling and some of the furniture looked like it would collapse any second. Harry knew exactly how it felt. It was as if he was the one hexed and jinxed as his body ached all over.

He chose to prepare something to eat, because it calmed him down and his mind was too busy with uncovered information to give him any rest. He knew now that Scorpius’s interest in him was not a spur of the moment thing. It surprised Harry and pleased him too. But it complicated the matters considerably and he knew that they would have to make some adjustments to their current relationship. If it could be even called that, which he seriously doubted. What adjustments, Harry didn’t know, not until he could be sure of what it was that Scorpius really wanted from him. What he wanted himself, he couldn’t say, but he knew now that it was a mistake to proceed so heedlessly with what they had started at the club and take it as lightly as he had done.

When dinner was ready, Harry went to call Al first.

‘Hey.’ he said quietly as he entered the room. Al looked as moody as a teenager, lying on the bed with a book in his hands. His room held unmistakable marks of being used for venting off his anger and the book, held upside down, did not quite conceal his glower. ‘Dinner’s ready.’ announced Harry softly.

‘M’not hungry.’ muttered Al sullenly, turning away from Harry and curling his body around the book as if Harry was going to take it away from him. Harry sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

‘Come on, Al. It’s getting cold and I don’t want to use Warming Charm. It spoils the effect.’

Al didn’t move.

‘Al, please, I need your cooperation here.’ said Harry, his hand outstretched, waiting for Al to take it. ‘I know it’s difficult for you. I can imagine that you hate me right now, but stewing in your room will not help. Believe me, I know. I’ve done enough stewing in my days. Let’s eat. Then we can talk.’

Al sighed and, grumbling something Harry couldn’t make out – not that he tried very much, knowing what it was about – took Harry’s hand, looking reluctant as he did so. But he couldn’t stay angry with him for long. And it was all Scorpius’s fault, anyway.

At the door, while Al was changing from the ruined shirt, Harry turned around and, not able to contain his curiosity any longer, asked the question that has been bugging him ever since he heard the fight –

‘How did you find out?’

Al scowled at him, bent down, picked something from the floor and tossed it at Harry.

‘Found it on your bed.’ he muttered, glaring at the offensive object in Harry’s hand.

Harry caught a well-crumpled piece of parchment and smoothed it out. He quickly scanned what looked like a very carefully-written note and when the exact meaning of somewhat distorted words reached his brain he gaped. By the looks of it, Scorpius wanted to ask him out on a date!

Chapter 10

Fic: Payment, part 1

farida@normaplus.com — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 19:07:31 GMT

Title: Payment
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3127
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Some years into the future Draco Malfoy is a man of influence, Ron Weasley gets on the wrong side of him and Harry Potter has to pay the price for his friend’s mistake. Unfortunately for Harry, Malfoy also knows a certain secret of his that he is only too happy to exploit.
Warnings: cross-dressing, non-con, unrequited Harry/Ron
Author’s Notes: I don’t know where this fic came from. It just hit me on the head, bound me to a chair, glued my fingers to the keyboard and raped my brain. Now I need to share it with someone! I hope someone will like it. I have also ideas for prequel and sequel.

Harry followed the house-elf into one of the guest rooms, his insides clenching and unclenching as if he had eaten a pair of magically-activated tweezers for lunch. The corridors and the stairs were long and winding, lit by candles, paved with awe-inspiring carpets and crowded with portraits of Malfoys past and present, their eyebrows raised. Their indignant whispers followed him all the way.

The instructions of his payment for his best friend’s mistake when dealing with Malfoy were left on a huge four-poster bed with hangings of thick burgundy velvet – Harry hoped it wasn’t someone’s blood – in an elegant scroll on top of what appeared to be a dress of some monstrous construction. The instructions were clear enough: he had to put it on and join Malfoy in the drawing-room for dinner.

Flushing and cursing, Harry started taking off his clothes. He hoped that Malfoy was not lurking in the shadows, enjoying the sight of his humiliation. But then, Malfoy didn’t have to hide to enjoy it as he had the whole evening ahead and judging by the dress Harry could only imagine what else he would have to endure in order to keep Ron and his big fat stupid mouth out of Azkaban.

The dress was heavy, huge and grotesque. Once naked and shivering in an unfamiliar room that could have been as hot as hell but still sent goosebumps all over his flesh because of its dark atmosphere, Harry stared uncertainly at its bulk. How was he supposed to put it on and wear it? Wasn’t it enough that Malfoy practically held him by his balls? Did he have to divest him of his manliness completely? He was not a bloody woman to wear dresses! And this one looked like it was fashionable at least three centuries ago with its low neckline, frills, puffed sleeves that narrowed down past elbows and were interlaced with ribbons and a corset that looked like it wouldn’t fit at all. At the waist the dress expanded due to a number of contraptions fixed under its huge skirt. Harry’s only saving grace at this point was that the dress wasn’t some lurid pink but done in dark shades of blue and occasional white.

But putting it on wasn’t as tricky as Harry expected, because the dress seemed to know what to do and it took up the task of fitting Harry in with eagerness so that Harry almost suffocated when it started lacing the corset. Harry wondered if he would ever get used to magical households and items and the fact that they didn’t necessarily need human touch or tip of the wand to operate. Besides, Malfoy Manor was one of the oldest wizarding dwellings and everything here was pure magic.

Once dressed and laced, Harry twirled around on the spot out of sheer insanity. His arms were stuck out at odd angles until he realised that the sides of the dress were so wide for a purpose and arranged his arms on top of them. It looked like he was walking with two shelves stuck at his sides. Taking a step, Harry tripped over a pair of matching embroidered shoes that looked like something from Cinderella: with bows, peculiarly curved toes and thankfully small heels. It was all so ridiculous that Harry looked around for a wig.

Taking a deep breath, after a bout of insane laughter, Harry was ready to leave the room and face the dragon but was stopped by an enquiring house-elf, who looked at him and squeaked that he hadn’t used make-up, before presenting Harry with what he instantly christened a make-up kit. Harry gaped at the house-elf who blinked curiously back.

‘Make-up?’ Harry whispered horrified. He spread his hands helplessly. ‘I don’t know how to use it. There is nothing in the note about make-up. There must be some mistake.’ he said desperately. But it appeared that he was not the only one with instructions for the night. The house-elf looked business-like at him before leading him back into the room to a fancy dressing-table that Harry hadn’t noticed before. With practiced movements the tiny house-elf applied make-up to Harry’s eyes, lips, cheeks and even brushed his hair.

Harry closed his eyes the moment the kit was opened and would not look at himself. This image of him – in a dress and wearing make-up – would not be planted into his mind and unless every inch of the drawing-room was covered with mirrors he would not have to know how he looked tonight.

Feeling edgy and surreal Harry finally left the room and followed the house-elf downstairs, clutching onto the railings, wobbly and unsteady, and feeling exposed despite the fact that he carried several kilos of dress on him. But he was naked otherwise and he wondered if there, perhaps, was a charm on the dress to make it transparent to anyone looking. He was obviously paranoid.

To Harry’s relief the drawing-room was not covered with mirrors, but its tall French windows posed a threat and he asked the house-elf if it was possible to draw the drapes over them. That done he sat down at the table laid for two and waited for Malfoy to make his grand entrance. He was surprised that Malfoy wasn’t here to witness his humiliation and decided that it could mean only one thing: whatever Malfoy had planned would be far more humiliating than Harry wearing a dress, make-up and slippers. He fidgeted in his chair and almost jumped out of the dress – if it wasn’t held tight by magic – when Malfoy did enter, his soft steps accompanied by his usual drawl.

‘So eager to see me, Potter?’

‘Malfoy.’ said Harry through gritted teeth by way of greeting, his face going the colour of the canopy in the bedroom.

Malfoy, he noted with an explosive mixture of anger, resentment and injured pride, wore normal robes and shoes and looked very smug about the whole situation. He didn’t comment on Harry’s look and simply motioned for him to help himself, as simple as that. One would think sharing a meal in Malfoy Manor drawing-room in the candlelight like lovers was the usual thing for the two of them instead of an out of place occurrence that it actually was. Harry surreptitiously pinched himself, because if not a dream he must have been transported into an alternate universe. Maybe the slippers did that. Slippers, he remembered, were often used as portkeys in muggle fairy-tales. Harry wasn’t particularly hungry and his insides squirmed with too many emotions to allow for food, but it was dinner on the menu and Harry didn’t want to anger his host until he knew exactly what he had on his mind.

The dinner progressed in silence. Malfoy seemed to be enjoying himself, while Harry was getting more and more nervous. When their eyes met, Harry couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

‘Malfoy, if you wanted to invite me for a cosy get together, you shouldn’t have bothered with charging my friend with offence he hadn’t committed and demanding a sentence in Azkaban for him. It would have been a real hardship but I would have joined you. All you had to do was ask me nicely enough. Though, I don’t think I would agree to wear a dress for the occasion. But I appreciate your touch of creativity all the same.’

Malfoy sipped his wine, his laughter echoing delicately across the room.

‘Really, Potter, as much pleasure as I get from seeing you in this ridiculous get-up, I’m afraid your real payment is yet to come. And Weasley had seen it coming with the way he behaved. He should be more careful with what he says and does. It would save him and you a world of trouble.’

‘What is it then? What do you want me to do?’ asked Harry, agitated. ‘Sing for you? Or would you prefer a dance? Believe me neither will bring you much pleasure. I am a very bad singer and I can’t dance to save my life. But I suppose it would be humiliating enough to satisfy you.’

‘I’m touched by your concern, Potter. Truly. But you’ll have to curb down your eagerness to please me until dessert.’

Harry scowled and looked away from Malfoy’s arrogant face.

A feeling of dread assaulted him when the house-elf brought in dessert. It looked really scrumptious – some sort of soufflé – but Harry didn’t touch it. He looked at Malfoy for instructions. Malfoy motioned for him to stand up and approach him. Harry scowled. He hated being ordered around like he was some kind of man-servant. He stood in front of him and stared, while Malfoy’s eyes roamed his body. His hands followed their path next and Harry froze. His mind snapped. Oh no…this is…this is what Malfoy called him for…Harry didn’t need instructions this time to know what Malfoy wanted from him – soufflé wasn’t the dessert – he, Harry was. Bloody hell, Malfoy wanted him! He would have to sleep with Malfoy to get Ron out of trouble! No, he was not a man-servant – he was so much worse now. He would sleep with Malfoy for a favour. He was no better than a whore.

Harry gulped when he caught Malfoy’s eye next. His look was full of smugness and hunger. His hands travelled down the skirt and as long as they stayed away from Harry’s body it was ok, but the corset hugged him like second skin and when Malfoy traced its contours shivers erupted all over Harry.

‘What – what do you want?’ he whispered. He couldn’t stand this slow, deliberate exploration any more. It was torture and his nerves couldn’t stand it another second. Malfoy chuckled.

‘So much enthusiasm, Potter? So eager to please me? Why, if I knew you were so easy, I would do you while we were still at Hogwarts. Do you remember that time on the train when you were spying on me? Oh, what an opportunity lost! You were quite helpless, lying there on the floor, gaping at me – ’

‘And you broke my nose.’ hissed Harry, flushing darkly. He was still very much embarrassed over the episode.

‘Well, what can I say? I was young and stupid. Now, I know better.’

‘I know what you want. So why don’t you get on with it?’ snarled Harry.

‘Like it fast and hard, Harry?’ said Malfoy. ‘Well, it’s not about you today. So we will have to do it my way.’

‘Does your wife know what you do here?’ asked Harry, unable to control his mouth.

‘What my wife knows or doesn’t should be the least of your worries, Potter. Now be still.’

Malfoy took his wand out and sliced the skirt in the middle. It fell open, leaving Harry exposed and covered only by the spindly contraption, holding the skirt in place. But it was spelled away next. It hit the floor with a dull thud and Harry closed his eyes as he felt the skirt fall loosely around him.

‘Undress me.’ was Malfoy’s next order that brought Harry’s eyes open and his hands, trembling, to Malfoy’s robes. Corset was squeezing all the air out of him and Harry was left gulping like a fish out of water. The robes was the easiest part, because then came trousers and Harry’s fingers shook so badly that he could barely get all the buttons out. He thought that ripping the trousers open with one tug might not be the best thing, because the material looked expensive and though he wanted nothing more than to rip Malfoy into pieces Harry didn’t need another debt to pay. When that was done, Malfoy motioned for Harry to straddle him. Harry stared at Malfoy’s cock that was ready for action.

‘You want me to…’

‘Potter, I‘m not going to do your job for you.’

‘Malfoy, that’s hardly my job.’

‘Maybe not your daily job, but this is what you are here for, so I’d suggest you to be on your best behaviour.’

That was ridiculous. Harry snorted.

‘It’s not like you can complain to my employer if I’m not.’

‘But I can make sure that Weasley gets a stint in Azkaban if you’re not.’ pointed out Malfoy with a nasty sneer. ‘Have you already forgotten how you came to me, begging to take off the charges, swearing on bended knee that you’d do anything for your precious Weasley to be restored to his family and his pregnant wife?’

Harry braced himself. He put his hands on Malfoy’s shoulders but instantly stood back as if burnt. Malfoy raised an eyebrow as if asking ‘What now?’. Harry could almost hear the drawl.

‘Shouldn’t you – er – prepare me first? I mean, it will hurt.’ said Harry.

‘And I should care because?’

‘Malfoy, please, I don’t – I mean – I’m not – I haven’t – ‘

‘You’ve never had sex before?’ asked Malfoy, before bursting out laughing. ‘What? Were you saving your virginity for the man you love? Waiting for Weasley to come around and claim you as his true and only love?’ he asked when he calmed down enough to get the words out.

‘Shut up talking about Ron.’ snapped Harry.

It was bad enough that he was in this mess, but to be reminded of the impossible in such a way was simply unbearable.

‘Will you do it? Prepare me? You must know the spell.’

Malfoy shrugged, but took pity on Harry.

Now slick with the spell, Harry once again put his hands on Malfoy’s shoulders, spread his legs and slowly, carefully, shaking with the effort and shame, impaled himself on Malfoy’s waiting cock.

‘Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod…’ he chanted all the while. It still hurt and Malfoy did nothing to make it any better. He was not accommodating and he expected Harry to do all the job. Once Malfoy’s cock was buried to the hilt in his ass, Harry let out a shuddering sigh and dropped his head on Malfoy’s shoulder.

‘I can feel you in my tonsils.’ he gasped.

‘You flatter me.’ replied Malfoy, petting him patronizingly on the head like an indulgent parent.

Harry got the urge to bite him. The corset dug into Harry’s flesh and Malfoy’s hands started kneading his ass. Harry wanted to scream. But not with pleasure. Still he was hard and hated himself for it. If only he could show Malfoy that it didn’t affect him in any way, he would feel much better about the whole thing, but his body thought differently.

‘Now,’ said Malfoy so pleasantly that it made Harry cringe. ‘Why don’t you feed me this delicious dessert?’

Harry sat straight and stared at Malfoy.

‘I can’t feed you while your – when you’re – inside me.‘ he stuttered.

‘I don’t see why not.’

What an insufferable git, thought Harry, glowering at him. He wanted to kick him badly. Unfortunately his position didn’t allow much movement of the kind. Sighing helplessly and wrapping his legs around Malfoy for support, Harry took the plate and started spoonfeeding him. It was like feeding a cat, because Malfoy made all sort of purring and mewling noises and his tongue often got in the way. Harry wondered if he wanted to snog the spoon, but refrained from asking in case the spoon was shoved down his throat and met Malfoy’s cock somewhere there.

He was almost used to its intrusion by now and wondered when Malfoy would move. It was ridiculous to have cock in his ass and not to be fucked. But when Malfoy cleaned the plate and the spoon and Harry used his tongue instead of a napkin (on Malfoy’s orders) to make sure that the dessert was indeed consumed, Malfoy had no intentions to move.

‘Potter, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s your job to please me? So unclench your ass and ride me like a good whore.’

‘Don’t call me that!’ snarled Harry. ‘I’m not a whore!’

‘No?’ asked Malfoy, tracing Harry’s face and smudging his make-up along the way. ‘I suppose I should have set up a camera and made several pictures of you to prove that you are indeed a whore, spreading your legs for me to get Weasley out of trouble. Do you think he would appreciate your efforts?’

Malfoy shook his head, tilting Harry’s chin up.

‘Do you know what he’d call you if he saw you right now, wearing a dress and make-up, straddling me?’

Harry shut his eyes against the tell-tale prickling of angry tears and started to move. There was no point talking to Malfoy. He just wanted for it to end, to get off Malfoy and out of this stupid dress and go home to curl on his bed and lick his wounds in peace.

Soon Malfoy grabbed his hips and before long was thrusting into him. It hurt and Harry bit down on his lip to stop from screaming. When Malfoy came Harry could have died with relief. He awkwardly left his lap and staggered. His legs were cramped and sticky and his whole body shook with revulsion. He turned his back to Malfoy and put his head in his face, smudging make-up still further.

‘Can I take a shower?’ he asked quietly.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Malfoy and Harry just knew that he was sneering. ‘Semen and blood dripping out of your hole and down your legs are not to your liking?’

Harry felt like retching.

‘I need to take a shower.’ he repeated stubbornly.

‘Go ahead. Make yourself comfortable.’ replied Malfoy. ‘I’m sure you know the way. Which is just as well, I’m not going to draw a map for you next time you’re here.’

Harry span around and stared at Malfoy, horrified.

‘Next time?’ he asked hoarsely. ‘What do you mean ‘Next time’? It was a one-time thing, wasn’t it?’

‘Was it?’ asked Malfoy, idly twirling his wand. ‘I don’t remember stipulating the number of times I would require your services, Potter.’ he drawled.

‘You bastard!’ hissed Harry, his fists clenched at his sides. If only he had his wand with him, he would have hexed Malfoy so badly… But, of course, he ordered Harry to leave the wand with the house-elf when he arrived.

‘Yes, I think next time,‘ said Malfoy, stressing the last two words, ‘we will find a better use for your tongue. And maybe something with lingerie…or leather…maybe stockings…’

Harry didn’t stay to listen to the rest of it. He stormed out of the drawing-room, shaking with anger, and took the stairs at a flight, skirt and heels notwithstanding. He had no idea that when he agreed to meet Malfoy and produce the payment of his choosing that he signed himself up for lifelong servitude. But, really, he should have known better.

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 8

farida@normaplus.com — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 20:52:20 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 1494
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.
Warnings: just in case – it was never meant to be a sweet, fluffy fic.

Like any game this one has its own rules and rule number one is that it is up to Scorpius what rules there are; rule number two is that there are no other rules. Or so he thinks. Harry is quick to learn that. Or so he lets Scorpius think as they are kissed into his mouth and breathed into his ear and pressed into his flesh. They are never the same and are often updated. Harry hides the updates carefully under his buttoned-up robes. He smiles as he does that. It’s a secret that he likes to keep. It might become a problem when it gets warmer, but Harry tells himself that it won’t last that long. Occasionally, he worries that his calculations are faulty at best and that he should start researching necessary concealing charms. Scorpius has very sharp teeth.

No one knows anything, no one suspects. Why would they? They are understandably shocked that he has moved out and possibly moved on with his life, while everybody is still waiting for this folly to come to an end so that he and Ginny could be together again. Now they start dreading that this is the end, but Harry tells them that it is not, that it is only for a short while and that he simply needs space or, using Ginny’s term, time-off. How handy it has become. She is furious that he flings it in her face, but she started it all. If she hadn’t left that day, nothing would have happened to their happily ever after. Harry blames her for disillusioning him, but thanks her for opening his eyes to the world outside their little domestic world.

Al is blissfully unaware of what is going on in the flat whenever he is away, which happens a lot, because he and Scorpius have different time-tables and Harry and Scorpius use it to their advantage. But things don’t go exactly as Harry planned. Scorpius is still interested in him and Harry still doesn’t miss Ginny. He wonders if things would have been different if instead of playing the injured party, Ginny would have sneaked into his bed and seduced him back to her. It would have been only too easy, considering with how little effort Scorpius secured Harry’s interest. This past month gave Harry a new perspective and he has already embraced the fact that he is easy and sex-deprived and, despite having sired three children, almost innocently inexperienced when it comes to sex. He only now starts to explore it for real.

Harry doesn’t dream about Ginny when she’s away. He doesn’t want her. There is no longing and no passion that keeps him awake at night when he is not otherwise occupied. Their sex life was timid at best, though Harry never had anything to complain about. He was content and satisfied. He loved Ginny and never questions his feelings for her or his preferences. He didn’t know he had to. But now that he had a taste of an entirely different thing, he cannot go back to what they’d had before. There is no comparison. Harry discovers new things about himself.

He never imagined that he could like someone else or want someone else or could be with someone else but his wife. Harry never knew that he could like having his limits tested. He never knew that he could like being pushed into things, pushed in, fucked, talked dirty to. Scorpius talks dirty all the time. Plays dirty too. He has little respect for Harry or for what he wants and he is generally rough. And yet, Harry finds that he likes it. He plays along. Maybe he’s a pervert. That’s new too. But then so is Scorpius. And he is not the only one who needs therapy. The thought should not make him feel better about himself, but it certainly does.

Harry knows that Scorpius is nice and charming and funny and easily managed and ordered around – he has no trouble making him do what he wants around the flat – on general basis. Harry also knows that Scorpius is completely different when it comes to sex. He is dominant, arrogant, aggressive and even cruel. He doesn’t take no for an answer and never bothers with preliminaries. Harry wonders if Scorpius knows what foreplay is. What Scorpius wants – he gets. That’s how it works. Harry is secretly amused and indulgent, because he’d had enough interaction with the Malfoys to learn that every Malfoy man needs to prove himself and that every one of them chooses the wrong way to go about it. Harry finds Scorpius’s way most to his liking. It’s like a battlefield and Scorpius is the conqueror. Harry finds that this is the only battlefield that he doesn’t mind forfeiting. He finds giving up control exhilarating. He doesn’t have to be in charge. He doesn’t have to make decisions. All he has to do is open up to new sensations.

Kitchen is the place where most of the action takes place. It is not the most comfortable of places and Harry would much rather prefer the living-room where there is a nice sofa and a carpet on the floor, but this is where they mainly meet as Harry goes to or comes from the Ministry. He often cooks and washing the dishes calms him down. Sometimes he casts the spell, but more often than not he does it manually. He wonders if he does it on purpose, standing with his back to the door, unarmed and unprotected, waiting for Scorpius to pounce. Is this how he initiates contact? Scorpius likes to sleep in and if he doesn’t hurry up Harry will run out of the dirty dishes today. It’s not like he and Al had that much for breakfast to draw out the process interminably.

He set up the wards, checked and double-checked them. It doesn’t hurt to be cautious. Not when you’re having an illicit affair with your son’s best friend. Anticipation coils in his gut and Harry starts humming a tune along with the wizarding wireless. Scorpius thinks that he sneaks up on him, but Harry knows better. He lets him sneak up on him. He lets him startle him. Harry wonders if he should turn up the volume, but just then Scorpius wraps his arms around his waist and bites his shoulder. It’s his way to say good morning. It is soon followed by a spell – a speciality of Scorpius’s – that leaves Harry in nothing but a T-shirt. Another spell and it doesn’t take long before Scorpius is pushing into him. It’s not always like that: rough and hurried, but mornings don’t have much room for anything else and it is the fastest way for Scorpius to wake up. Harry’s coffee cup that didn’t have time to hide, hits the floor with a crash. Scorpius grips Harry’s hips and Harry grips the sink.

‘I wish you wouldn’t do it quite like that.’ he gasps out. He doesn’t know why he says it, only that it will make Scorpius even more vicious. There must be something seriously wrong with him.

‘And what would you want me to do instead, Harry?’ asks Scorpius, thrusting harshly, his voice low and hoarse with sleep. ‘Court you? – thrust – Whisper sweet nonsense in your ear? – thrust – Cover your bed with rose petals? – thrust – Lay you on the bed and worship your body? – thrust – Kiss you senseless until you’re so far gone that you don’t care what I do to you anymore? – thrust – Pry your legs slowly open and enter you gently and lovingly? – thrust – Is this how you went about it with your wife?’

Harry laughs. Scorpius pulls out of him before Harry stops counting the thrusts and turns him so that they are face to face. They kiss. Or clash more like. An image of a pair of Monster Books of Monsters comes to Harry’s mind, ripping each other apart. And then they’re on the kitchen countertop and Harry loves and hates it. There is hardly any space, the surface is hard and cold and slippery, but it brings them together like nothing else. He is folded almost in two, like a men-sized penknife; it is uncomfortable and undignified; he knows that he must look grotesque and he feels ridiculously exposed. Their magic sends sparks; things explode and go flying all over the place. Scorpius slams into him for all its worth, sending him reeling into an explosive orgasm.

Somewhere along the way Harry realises that he lost all of his inhibitions.

Like any game this one must have an end. Harry doesn’t see it yet. His vision is blurred by Scorpius’s face and hair as he kisses him. Slowly and tenderly. Almost unconsciously. Clinging onto him. Almost desperately.

Like any game this one has its winner and loser. But it is not exactly clear, because the loss is never complete and the victory is never enough.

Chapter 9

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 7

farida@normaplus.com — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 16:09:02 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny (not that it matters)
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 2147
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.Warnings: While there will be no actual non-con, some scenes may be considered dubious when regarding the consent of one partner to the ministrations of the other.

‘Don’t scream.’ whispered Scorpius into Harry’s ear, before bringing his hand higher and with more pressure, meaning to slide it inside Harry’s robes. Harry froze in his seat, his mind frantic with worry, his eyes darting towards his family, staring expectantly at the stage. It was a good thing that lights were so low it was impossible to see much of anything, but Harry’s fear didn’t leave room for rational thinking. He had to stop Scorpius; there was no way he could let him continue his groping. Quite apart from it being entirely inappropriate, Harry didn’t really think that he could keep quiet if Scorpius’s hand reached inside his pants and –

‘Stop it.’ he hissed as quietly as he could. Now was not the time to alert anyone’s attention to what was going on, but how else would he point out to Scorpius that this was neither time nor place nor he, Harry, the likeliest person? Scorpius himself didn’t seem to understand or care about the danger he was putting them both in, while Harry’s inside turned to ice whenever he thought about the irredeemable consequences of such a public display on his life, work and image. ‘Please.’ he added when Scorpius paid no heed to his words. Scorpius’s hand stilled at that and he looked curiously at Harry. Whatever he saw on Harry’s face made an impression on him and he withdrew his hand immediately. Harry wondered if it was the pleading and hated himself for it, but as long as it made Scorpius keep his hands off it was worth it. Sighing with relief and trying not to think about Scorpius’s knee touching his or Scorpius’s fingertips occasionally brushing his hand – Scorpius was particularly fidgety today – Harry intended not to be effected and to devote himself completely to the play

Yet he couldn’t stop wondering as to why Scorpius was pursuing him so determinedly and why he didn’t mind quite as much as he should. Harry was convinced that it was a one-time thing. Maybe even some sort of a bet and didn’t expect Scorpius to try anything untoward again. But maybe Scorpius was doing it in the first place because Harry proved to be such an easy target? Harry couldn’t understand his reaction to all of it. Only that it was completely different from his previous experience. He was never been so much as kissed against his will. And though he was angry at Scorpius for pushing and taking advantage, it’s not like he did anything to stop it from happening. Not really. But could his lack of proper discouragement prompt Scorpius to regard it as an invitation to proceed with what he started at the club?

Harry wondered if they should talk about it before Scorpius presumed that he could grope him at every opportunity and Harry would just take it. Naturally, no matter how much he tried Harry couldn’t concentrate on the play. His life was going in a bizarre way and there was no one he could talk about it to. There was really only Scorpius and possibly a shrink. But Harry rather distrusted people who made it their habit to poke inside his mind. So Scorpius it was then. That’s why Harry didn’t object when after the play, enthusiastic cheering and major clapping, and while no one was looking Scorpius dragged him down the stairs and into the loo. But before a word could so much as leave Harry’s mouth, he was slammed into a row of sinks and kissed so furiously that he felt his lips bleed.

‘Scorpius. I really didn’t come here for that.’ said Harry with some difficulty when his mouth was his own again. ‘The last thing I want is for someone to walk in on us making out.’

Harry was sure he would end up in the sink if Scorpius didn’t stop his thrusting and groping. However, the brutality of the kiss and the rough treatment notwithstanding, Harry’s body hummed happily against Scorpius’s pressing weight. But his mind understood what his body would not – that it was wrong and dangerous and considering their current location and the number of witches and wizards all over the place plain stupid.

Scorpius looked at him like Harry was a delicious piece of meat and Harry felt like squirming.

‘Don’t look at me like that.’ he said resignedly. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with you and why you act like that but it has to stop. It’s not right. I’m married. I’m twice your age. You’re my son’s best friend.’ Harry sighed heavily when it produced no other response but intense stare – a leer more like it – from Scorpius. ‘I really don’t know what else to say to make you see it the way I see it. Oh, yeah, I went to school with your father. We hated each other, you know?’ he stopped to take another deep breath and ask the question that’s been bugging him all this time. ‘But I want to know why. Why did you do it at the club? Why are you doing it now?’

Scorpius looked resentful at having to break off his snack-time, but willing to give a short reply.

‘I wanted to.’

Harry snorted. That was to be expected.

‘Do you always do what you want?’

‘Pretty much yes.’ replied Scorpius, trailing his hands up Harry’s thighs and parting his robes.

Harry tried too hard to concentrate on his train of thought to pay attention to Scorpius’s hands now. Getting through to Scorpius was more important or so he told himself.

‘But, Scorpius, there are things that you can’t take or have just because you want to.’ he pointed out.

‘I don’t think I agree with you there, Harry.’

He purred the name and that image of Scorpius’s tongue tracing Harry’s name was back in the forefront of Harry’s mind, obliterating every other thought. He gripped tight onto them though, just as Scorpius’s hands started opening his trousers. The pace was different this time – slow, gentle, coaxing – so that Harry could feel through every brush, touch and caress.

‘And as far as I recall, you weren’t exactly fighting me.’ said Scorpius with satisfaction, his touch as languid a his words.

As true as that was, Harry didn’t like it being mentioned. Not when he was barely fighting again.

‘I had no idea what you were going to do.’ he defended. Though, taking into account the way he shamelessly let Scorpius take care of himself now, it was futile.

‘I would think that my intentions were abundantly clear.’ purred Scorpius. ‘I didn’t take anything you weren’t willing to give me, Harry.’

‘I was taken by surprise.’

‘That’s hardly an excuse.’ drawled Scorpius, latching his mouth onto Harry’s again.

‘The drink – ‘ panted Harry, breaking free.

‘ – was not spiked if that’s what you mean. It was all your doing. Just like this.’

Scorpius captured Harry’s mouth in another brutal kiss, before spinning him around so that he was now facing the mirror.

‘Like I said – you needed a distraction – and I supplied you with one.’

‘I didn’t ask you to.’ muttered Harry, avoiding looking into the mirror, which made him look at Scorpius’s hand on his cock instead. There was no getting away from it.

Scorpius laughed.

‘You might not have said the words, but you looked them all right. And you must admit that it worked. I’m sure you’ve been constantly wanking off to the image I’ve planted in your mind these past weeks so that your hand must be falling off by now. You can close your eyes all you want, Harry, but it won’t change the fact that for all your protests you’re enjoying yourself – if the evidence in my hand is anything to go by.’

Harry growled and Scorpius laughed.

‘I thought we should try something different this time but I’m sure I could suck you off again. Would you like that?’

Harry made an unidentified sound in his throat and gripped the edge of the sink.

‘Another time then.’ said Scorpius cheerfully.

He moved against Harry, rubbing against him, and Harry was pleased to note that though smug he was not unaffected.

Harry looked up into the mirror. His face was flaming, his mouth swollen, his hair worse than ever.

‘I heard that your wife is back.’ said Scorpius, looking approvingly at him.

‘I also heard that you are not back together.’

‘I do hope that it is not on my account.’

Harry managed a snort, though it came out as an over-excited panting sound. But as his face had no more room for blushing he didn’t even bother.

‘Don’t flatter yourself, Scorpius. It has got nothing to do with you. Nothing at all.‘ he added for more emphasis. His voice was uneven but he congratulated himself on being able to say anything at all with the way Scorpius’s hand was going.

‘Al said that you might be looking for a place to stay.’ said Scorpius. ‘He asked if it’d be all right if we give you the use of our spare bedroom for the time being. I wholeheartedly agreed. But you haven’t showed up you. This, I suppose, is also not on my account.’

Harry shook his head. He could hardly keep up with the conversation while Scorpius was pumping his cock and thrusting from behind at the same time. It took a lot of will power, but he did have it in abundance.

‘How do you expect me to stay with you and Al in the same flat with the way you act around me these days?’ he snapped. He was close and when he decided that he and Scorpius had to talk this was not how he envisioned it. ‘I don’t know what you’re going to do next other then press me against some surface and well – ’ really, he didn’t have to illustrate it with words.

‘Well, that’s the fun part, isn’t it?’ said Scorpius. ‘Besides, you’ll be very useful to have around the house. It’s gotten pretty messy since the last time you visited. And Al says that you cook. Do you know that we’ll be wall to wall? You’ll have a hell of a time falling asleep.’ he whispered. ‘I wonder if you are up for the challenge.’

‘There’s only one way to find out’ said Harry as he came.

He didn’t know what he was doing exactly, but far be it from him to back down from a challenge. A sense of excitement so powerful hit him that he swayed.

He was considering it. He was actually thinking about it – thinking about sharing a flat with Scorpius. But what would his moving out mean for him and Ginny? Would it be the end for them, the final step that would squash any hope for a happy future together?

Harry had a lot to think about that night. But the more he thought about it, the more he found that it was a perfect solution for both his problems: with Ginny and with Scorpius.

Harry assumed – wanted to believe – that he and Ginny were just going through a rough patch in their relationship, something lots of couples went through at some point or that’s what Hermione kept telling him. And maybe if he moved out for a while, it would just put things into better focus. Instead of seething at her while under the same roof, he would put some distance between them to have a clearer head and a better look at the situation. Maybe, away from her, instead of anger and frustration he was feeling now he would feel longing to be back with her again. Away from Ginny, he would realise what he missed and things would get back to normal. After all, Ginny couldn’t stay away from him for long even though it looked like she left forever.

And it’s not like he was actually leaving – he was just going to stay with his son for a while – it was a perfect thing, really. No one would suspect anything. No one would think that he had someone else. It’s not like anyone in their right mind would imagine that he and Scorpius had something going. And as for his Scorpius problem, Harry realised that it was a game for Scorpius – a chase – and as soon as the chase was over and the prey was caught, Scorpius would lose all interest in Harry. Well, a rich pure-blood wizard who had everything he wished for was bound to have a kink and maybe Scorpius’s was seducing his friends’ fathers.

But it was only a matter of time until things went back to normal, Harry was sure. And whatever he and Scorpius got up to, it wasn’t really infidelity while he and Ginny were not together. With these comforting thoughts Harry joined his empty bed to enjoy another vivid dream.

Chapter 8

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 6

farida@normaplus.com — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 19:52:09 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny (not that it matters)
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 1873
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.
Warnings: While there will be no actual non-con, some scenes may be considered dubious when regarding the consent of one partner to the ministrations of the other.

Two weeks later Ginny came back. She waltzed into Grimmauld Place as though she had not vanished out of sight as effectively as if she’d used Instant Darkness Powder, leaving in her wake nothing but a crumpled piece of parchment with a few cryptic lines scribbled hastily on it. Harry was not impressed by her sudden reappearance. A fleeting thought in the back of his mind made him wonder how much a touch of one person could change his attitude towards another. He should have been pleased to see her but he wasn’t. This was something to inspect later but now he crossed his hands over his chest and stared impassively at her, even though his insides were churning with so much bitterness he could almost taste it in his mouth.

Ginny’s bright smile faltered and Harry wondered as to what sort of welcome she expected from him after she’d dumped him and to all intents and purposes fell off the face of the Earth for two bloody weeks, without informing anyone of her intentions or whereabouts. The whole family was shocked and worried by her disappearance and no one knew its cause. Harry was somewhat appeased to learn that neither Hermione nor Mrs. Weasley were in on the secret and that they didn’t blame him for it. On the contrary, they were quite indignant on his behalf, supportive and extra kind (if that was possible) and Harry did not fancy Ginny next time she visited the Burrow.

‘I’m back.’ she said at last, when Harry would neither greet nor invite her to come in.

Her trunks hit the floor. She raised her arms as if to give him a hug, but dropped them stiffly to her sides when she realised that Harry was not about to swoop her off her feet in a passionate embrace. Her brazen look that once inspired Harry now lost all of its charm so that she looked stubborn and bad-tempered more than anything else. Harry narrowed his eyes: something told him that she wasn’t going to fall to her knees and ask for forgiveness. But he shouldn’t have thought about the ‘falling to her knees’ part, because his head was suddenly filled with only too vivid images of what happened the last time someone did fall to his knees in front of him. Harry shuddered, half closed his eyes and felt himself growing hard just thinking about it. However, one glance at Ginny’s angry face had quite an opposite effect on him. Just as well.

‘I don’t want you back.’ he replied before he could stop himself. He stared. Where did that come from? He was angry and feeling betrayed but it didn’t mean that he didn’t want Ginny back, did it? At least, he had no idea that he was feeling this way. But then again, it’s not like he had much room for anything but Scorpius in his head for the last two weeks. Scorpius did know how to cause a distraction. And Harry had plenty of time to brood over what happened and even go as far as fantasize about it – something that he was not ready to admit but something that happened all the time now. At the same time, he was not at all preoccupied with thoughts of his impending divorce. He thought that it would bother him a great deal, but it didn’t. Not anymore. Harry was sure that it was a decided thing and only a matter of time before he received the divorce papers to sign and therefore nothing to be done anymore. He did not expect Ginny to come back with the most unrepentant look that transformed into a scowl the moment Harry blurted out the words.

‘Well, I’m not leaving.’ she snapped back and taking out her wand started guiding her trunks up the stairs.

‘I thought you’ve done that two weeks ago.’ said Harry, watching her incredulously. ‘Gin, you left me.’ he reminded her.

‘I didn’t leave you if I’m right where I am, though, Harry, did I?’ she asked pleasantly enough. ‘I’ve just taken time-off, it’s not a crime, is it? I thought I explained everything.’

Harry bristled.

‘It’s not a crime, but neither is it a game of Quidditch. You just don’t take time-off from your family.’

Ginny stopped on the second landing and stomped her foot. Her trunks dropped down with a crash.

‘Harry, are you throwing me out of my house?’

‘This is our house or was ours before you decided to take your time-off. But if we go back in time, you might remember that I got this house from my godfather! So, technically, it’s mine.’

‘Sirius hated this house!’

‘And I happen to like it very much!’

They were shouting now and they rarely got to the point where they had to resort to shouting and Harry was glad that Lily – the only child of theirs who still lived here – was not around to witness the scene. He was ashamed of himself, but he was too angry with Ginny to care. She didn’t even apologize and acted as if Harry was the one at fault here. His conscience squirmed a bit as the images of Scorpius fluttered past. It wasn’t considered infidelity, was it, not when they weren’t together anymore?

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ insisted Ginny, the colour of her face to rival her hair. ‘I am staying here. At least until the last of my children still lives here. So, it’s up to you, Harry. You can stay or you can leave. You certainly can afford another living, unlike a detailed article in The Daily Prophet about how mean you are to your wife.’

She swept her long red hair and was off. Stunned, Harry could only stare after her. What happened? Who was this woman? Did he even know her? Harry felt like that time at the Quidditch World Cup when beautiful Veela turned into vicious beak-like creatures the moment they didn’t get their way. Ginny acted most irrationally and quite mad too. He shook his head in disbelief but he didn’t follow her. Something changed. In fact, changed so much that they lost all common ground, it seemed.

Another week later they still lived under the same roof but they didn’t share meals or room anymore. The idea of sharing bed with Ginny when he was dreaming about Scorpius’s mouth – something he couldn’t control it appeared – seemed rather disturbing and the prospect of her wrath or what she’d do with the information rather scary. No one could know about his ‘Scorpius incident.’ He only came back to it in the dark of the night, under covers and with Silencing Spell firmly in place.

He moved a few floors up and found himself in Sirius’s old bedroom. Harry felt like an unwanted guest in his own house. Ginny was too stubborn to make the first step to reconciliation, even if she was the one in the wrong, and Harry was too angry with her to let her get away with it and have her way. It seemed that Kreacher was entirely on his side. He fell back on his old ways and started muttering nasty things about Ginny whether she was present or not; he also let her food get burnt until Harry got whiff of it and put his foot down. He did appreciate the sentiment though.

Their first family outing was a very tense affair and Lily and James served as two human barriers to keep Harry and Ginny from each other in case they got into a squabble, which would be a first, because they didn’t so much as look at each other since their heated argument. James, Al and Lily were quite in despair over their parents’ marriage crisis and still more so when all their attempts to get them to talk to each other, at the very least, were rebuffed.

They appealed to uncle Ron and aunt Hermione, to grandparents, to Teddy, to Bill and Fleur, to anyone who could have any effect on them, without producing any. It was like their parents called it quits. Their marriage was sinking as if hit by an iceberg and the worst part was that neither father nor mother did anything to keep it afloat. They avoided each other’s company and went about their usual things as if nothing was wrong while the life as they knew it was falling apart.

But they were in Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts now and it was Al’s special day. So they were polite and seemingly happy. He was performing in a play and it was his first big part. He asked his parents and siblings to be there, even though he was way too nervous at the moment to appreciate his parents’ efforts of keeping from hissing at each other like a pair of angry Kneazles (now that they couldn’t put a few floors between them) and James and Lily’s efforts of keeping them together but apart and sufficiently entertained. Excited whispers inevitably followed the Potter family as they filed into their row and took their seats: James and Lily sitting between Harry and Ginny.

Obligingly, Harry and Ginny gave a few dozen autographs and Harry felt sorry for Al and the scrutiny he would be subjected to. For years Harry and Ginny sheltered their children from the downside of fame that followed them everywhere but sometimes it was beyond their control. Thankfully, all of their children took the obsessive interest in their family and occasional snapshots and articles to accompany them surprisingly well. Harry caught sight of a reporter and sighed. There was no getting away from the spotlight, but to willingly choose it – well, Harry just hoped that Al knew what he was doing.

There was an empty sit on the other side of Harry. This surprised him as the concert hall was filling in swiftly and room was scarce. Harry supposed that it was saved for someone and fervently hoped that this someone wasn’t –

‘Scorpius!’ he hissed under his breath as he caught sight of familiar hair and wicked grin.

Scorpius bowed formally and took the seat.

‘Harry.’ he murmured way too intimately and Harry’s imagination jumped to an image of Scorpius running his tongue along his skin, drawing each letter of his name in a lazy caress.

Harry blushed furiously, but thankfully the lights were dimming.

‘Mrs. Potter. James.’ greeted Scorpius with polite indifference. ‘Hey, Lily!’ he added warmly.

‘Hey yourself.’ replied Lily. She leaned across Harry to get better access to Scorpius.

‘How’s my brother holding? Jitters? Jelly-legs? Stage fright? James bets that Al will forget his lines.’

Scorpius raised an eyebrow.

‘James doesn’t know your brother well at all. He’ll do great. You just watch. What’s the bet?’

Lily leaned back with a happy sigh.

‘He’s going to eat a Stink Pellet.’

‘Eugh!’

‘Yep!’

Harry rolled his eyes.

‘As long as he doesn’t do it in the house.’ he said dryly.

Scorpius laughed. His laughter – rich, low and deliberate – sent shivers down Harry’s spine. The lights went out completely and Harry, barely containing a yelp of surprise, almost surged out of his seat when Scorpius’s hand squeezed his thigh with obvious intent.

Chapter 7

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 5

farida@normaplus.com — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 19:42:15 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 1478
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.
Warnings: While there will be no actual non-con, some scenes may be considered dubious when regarding the consent of one partner to the ministrations of the other.

They stumbled into the corridor. It was not as crowed here, but just as semi-dark and hard to breathe. Harry was seized by sudden panic-like feeling that things were shaping horribly wrong. Scorpius had something on his mind. Harry was sure he would have Scorpius’s finger-shaped bruises in the morning where he touched him. And an unpleasant idea that Scorpius had been setting him drunk all along for whatever purpose crawled into Harry’s mind. As unlikely as that was. What would Scorpius want to do that for? What would he want from Harry? It was ludicrous. And yet – here they were – and Scorpius’s hands were still on Harry’s hips and he was still guiding him forward.

Harry decided to take things in his own hands then and stopped. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Scorpius and promptly found himself encircled by his arms. The advantage of Scorpius’s superior height was rather aggravating. Harry opened his mouth to ask him what the hell he was doing when they were suddenly shoved sideways and drunken giggles filled the corridor. A moment of confusion and distraction cost Harry dearly. He lost the hold on the situation completely when he hit the wall and his head started spinning again.

Years of Auror training, years of fighting and catching dark wizards didn’t prepare him for this and here he was – pressed against the wall – a hair’s breadth from being devoured – by the looks of it – by a man twenty years his younger. But Harry had no one to blame but himself: that what happened when he let his guard down, relaxed his defences, forgot his reflexes and followed his adventurous streak rather than voice of reason, that was keeping a suspiciously low profile so far. And, of course, there was that damnable curiosity that was pushing him forward into the untested waters of what if.

Scorpius looked as if he was deciding what to do with Harry now that he had him pressed against the wall. He just stared and it was the perfect opportunity to break free, a simple spell would do the trick and Harry wouldn’t have to worry about it getting out. But for all the movement that Harry was capable of at the moment he could have been hit by Petrificus Totalus. He didn’t know why Scorpius’s actions had such a numbing effect on him. Other than the fact that it wasn’t every day that Al’s friends tried to have their wicked way with him. It would put anyone out of balance.

With difficulty he unfroze his mouth.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

Scorpius regarded Harry with a curious expression on his face as if he found the question puzzling, before replying.

‘Taking advantage.’

He leaned closer and Harry could feel his breath on his face. He shook his head.

‘Why?’ he asked. His heart was trapped in his chest.

This time Scorpius looked him up and down before giving the answer, accompanying it with a smile that was not at all reassuring.

‘Because I want to and because it looks like you’re going to let me.’

‘I don’t think I will though.’ said Harry firmly, shaking his head again. He has been doing a lot of it today and it felt like things were getting banged quite a lot there.

‘No?’ asked Scorpius. One of his eyebrows rose in perfect imitation of his father’s.

‘I think you will, Harry. I think that you just don’t know it yet.’

‘I don’t think so, Scorpius. I think you should stand back. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I don’t like it. What’s gotten into you? I have never seen you acting like that.’

Harry was beyond frustrated. Scorpius was staring at him again as if trying to hypnotise, not saying a word.

‘What?’ snapped Harry at last. His face and body were burning from all the scrutiny and he wondered if it was possible to burn out from within.

Scorpius’s dipped his head further still. He is going to kiss me, screamed Harry’s mind. Harry’s heart sped up but Harry was ready to repel his actions. He turned his head to the side. And Scorpius missed, but mainly because he was not going anywhere near his mouth just yet. As a matter of fact, Scorpius was going down and a moment later, Harry realised that he had misjudged his intentions completely. Not that it would ever cross his mind that Scorpius would actually spell his trousers open.

It should have been spellwork, because no one’s fingers could work this fast. And then all conscious thought left Harry’s mind and Harry’s hands gripped the uneven surface of the wall in panic and desperation, because Scorpius’s mouth was – Harry shut his eyes. He thought that he wasn’t ready to be kissed but this – he clenched his teeth tightly unless he screamed. Whether with pleasure or fury he couldn’t say. But nothing erased the fact that Scorpius was – Harry couldn’t think it. Speak it. Wrap his mind around it. Meanwhile, Scorpius had no trouble wrapping his tongue around it, working it – his – Harry gave an almighty shudder – cock into his mouth.

And he liked it. Of course, he liked it. Why wouldn’t he like it? Who wouldn’t like it? It’s not like Scorpius didn’t know what he was doing. Harry started writhing against the wall but Scorpius held him in place. He was much stronger than he looked, though Harry hardly ever sized him up in case he ever posed a potential threat. Wicked pace, plenty of skill, enthusiasm and a forceful touch sent Harry over the edge before he could fully come to terms with what was happening. He had no idea, he felt like he was outside his own body, but he was coming and shaking and screaming.

He didn’t open his eyes. He could not for shame he was feeling. How could he let it happen? Did he want it to happen? He was searching wildly for an excuse. It’s not like he couldn’t put a stop to it if he really wanted to. But he gave up control, gave in, surrendered. Was it the moment when he was falling apart? Why would Scorpius want to do something like that with him of all people? People. Harry’s blood ran cold. How many saw what happened? He should have put up some privacy spell instead of closing his eyes. What was he thinking? Was he even thinking?

He was sliding down the wall, but Scorpius caught him just in time. And then before Harry could react he was pushing his tongue inside Harry’s mouth; plunging it, filling it, furiously, ruthlessly. And Harry knew, knew, where it’d been and what it’d been doing and he was choking as he tasted himself, swallowing everything Scorpius fed him. But even Scorpius couldn’t go forever without air supply and when they finally broke apart Harry pushed him blindly away. He was sweating and burning and when he opened his eyes he couldn’t look at Scorpius. He started counting till ten to calm down; he was mentally taking back every good thing he ever thought about Scorpius. His hands were trembling pretty badly as he raked them through his hair. He was shaking pretty badly too.

‘What did you do that for?’ he asked when he could master speech. His voice came out in a horrible croak.

‘Couldn’t resist.’ replied Scorpius. He didn’t sound remorseful or even out of breath. Harry glared at him.

‘I’m leaving.’ he said, pushing himself off the wall.

‘I’ll walk you.’ said Scorpius as if it was the way things worked.

‘No.’ said Harry venomously. ‘You stay where you are.’

He drew out his wand and pointed it at Scorpius’s chest. He didn’t care if anyone saw him right now. Not after what happened here. Not after he’d exposed more than enough of himself in front of strangers.

‘Harry – you’re shaking. You can’t Apparate like that. Let me – ’

‘I’ll walk.’ snapped Harry and turned on his heels, furious with himself.

I’ve let you more than enough, he thought savagely.

He was shaking with rage and shame and the fact that he’d just come down Scorpius Malfoy’s throat, pressed against a dingy wall in a muggle club. He put as much distance between himself and Scorpius as he could without actually running flat out from the club, but did break into a run once outside. It was not quite as nice as flying, but as the wind slapped his face and whipped through his hair he felt like nothing mattered and he could almost – almost – believe that nothing out of the ordinary happened. But for the fact that his lips felt scorched where Scorpius’s teeth bit viciously through and his mouth felt raw with assault and – in his mind’s eye – every spot that Scorpius had ever touched glowed with his markings.

Chapter 6

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 4

farida@normaplus.com — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 19:55:28 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 1277
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.
Warnings: While there will be no actual non-con, some scenes may be considered dubious when regarding the consent of one partner to the ministrations of the other.

The club was low-lit and crowded. The music was blaring and there were too many bodies to count rubbing against each other in a feverish sort of dance all around the place. Harry didn’t know if the heat was coming from them, but it was definitely very hot and stuffy. Scorpius was shouting out greetings to blurry forms Harry couldn’t identify in the dark, all the while leading Harry by the hand to the front of the room where people were milling around in groups and the stage was all set up in anticipation of his band. Harry didn’t even try to break free now.

Sitting at the small table, Harry looked around. It didn’t look like a wizarding place. In fact, he was pretty sure that it was a muggle nightclub. And when his eyes adjusted to the dim light, thick clouds of smoke, loud noise and spontaneous bursts of colour, he realised that the bodies rubbing against each other were – Harry’s jaw dropped – he was in the gay club! Harry quickly turned away and looked straight ahead, his face aflame as if he was caught by the whole wizarding community participating in some sort of shameful act. His mind was filled with a cackling, gleeful kind of voice that reminded him of Peeves. He was in a gay club. With Scorpius Malfoy. And there were people – men – all around him – moving, touching, kissing, rubbing against each other. He needed another drink – just to make it sound less bizarre in his own head. Scorpius seemed to read his mind. He was gone and back in a blink of an eye with a glass of some suspiciously coloured liquid.

‘I have to go now. The crowd is getting impatient.’

Harry started and stared open-mouthed at Scorpius. Was he gay? Al never mentioned it. Not that he would – it was probably a secret – Harry didn’t think that Malfoy would be pleased to learn that his son preferred his own sex.

‘By the way, I made sure that the glass keeps refilling itself.’ said Scorpius.

‘I hardly think that I need any more today.’ replied Harry.

‘Trust me – you’ll love it.’ said Scorpius with a grin before disappearing into the crowd and swiftly reappearing on the stage to tumultuous applause. He bowed and grinned and then took up one of the guitars, before checking the microphone.

While the rest of the band joined him and the level of noise increased, Harry sat back and took a closer look at Scorpius. It occurred to him that he completely missed the point when both Al and Scorpius grew up. Of course, the fact that Al moved out and dropped by only on holidays or when he was short of money should have let Harry onto the fact. But now he was looking at Scorpius in a whole new light. And there was also the matter of Scorpius’s preferences – not that it mattered in the least – but Harry was as curious as a cat.

Scorpius, he noted approvingly (not that it mattered, of course), wore muggle clothes well. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a shirt. The collar was undone, the sleeves rolled up. His movements were casual but elegant and his blond hair was gracefully falling over his eyes. His smile was open and infectious and his voice when he started singing was quite captivating. Harry decided that he became a fine man, though a bit forceful, which, he supposed, was a natural result of always having his way. And he certainly had his way today. More than once too. But at the moment Harry couldn’t quite find it in himself to regret going along with his wishes.

It’s been a while since he felt this relaxed and unconcerned. It could have been the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. But he did jump like a scalded cat when the band started playing a ballad and a guy asked him for a dance. Surely it meant that the level of his inebriation was acceptable – he was still capable of thinking straight. He shook his head and once the shock wore off and his heart resumed its normal beating pattern he snorted into his drink at the very idea of him sharing a dance with another guy. It was ridiculous. Why would he want to do that? He was straight, thank you very much.

He hurriedly returned his attention to the stage and caught Scorpius’s eye. Scorpius raised an eyebrow and Harry shook his head, mouthing that everything was fine, though he doubted that Scorpius could read his lips from a distance.

The soulful ballad was succeeded by a song that had Harry’s eardrums exploding; the movements around him grew more and more frantic and the guy was back again with drinks in his hand and a proposal to move into one of the booths to form a better acquaintance. That was too much. Harry wondered if he could get away with hexing him, but dismissed the thought almost at once. This was a muggle, in a muggle-inhabited area and Harry was a law-abiding wizard and an Auror to boot – it was his duty to uphold and protect the law and it’s not like he couldn’t take care of himself without using magic.

Besides, he did not fancy finding himself in front of the Wizengamot explaining that he was in a muggle gay club after his wife had left him, getting drunk while watching his son’s best friend performing on stage when a muggle started coming onto him. He could just imagine how well that would go down. The Daily Prophet would explode in ecstasy over such a juicy piece of news: Harry Potter – the vanquisher of the Dark Lord and the head of Auror department – arrested in a muggle gay club for hexing private bits off a muggle who wanted to steal a kiss. He had a sudden and rather uncontrollable urge to giggle.

Instead, unless it offended the intruder, he shook his head and excused himself as politely as he could and when it looked like the guy was about to convince him further, he walked away. But trying to navigate the sea of bodies was not so easy and by the time he glimpsed the way out, Harry realised that the band had stopped playing. He wondered if he should turn back and find Scorpius. He didn’t want to leave like that without saying good-bye. But the road back was blocked and unappealing; he has been subjected to enough stray groping while squeezing his way out to last him a lifetime.

However, while he was debating whether to go back or to keep going, the choice was promptly taken out of his hands. Harry yelped when he felt someone grab him by the hips and was startled even more when Scorpius whispered into his ear in a low, heated voice: ‘Are you going somewhere?’ ‘The loo.’ stammered Harry, too embarrassed to admit that he was chased off by a too friendly muggle and that Scorpius actually scared him into a squeaking fit. ‘Well, shall I accompany you there then?’ It sounded all wrong to Harry’s ears. Too suggestive. Inappropriate, all things considered. ‘I’m sure I can find my way.’ he replied. ‘Just to make absolute sure.’ insisted Scorpius.

They moved together, though not in the way Harry imagined. Scorpius didn’t relinquish his hold on Harry’s hips but rather guided him forward, holding his hands firmly in place. It was rather awkward, because Harry could feel Scorpius’s body flush with his, every part of him rubbing against Harry in a way that should not have been permissible.

Chapter 5

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 3

farida@normaplus.com — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 19:01:51 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 1589
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.
Warnings: While there will be no actual non-con, some scenes may be considered dubious when regarding the consent of one partner to the ministrations of the other.

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. Now that he was about to talk about it, he found that he couldn’t get the words out. They were choking him, beating at his insides, making him want to bury his head in his hands and – cry. Not that he would ever do anything as childish as this; he never allowed himself to cry even when he was a child and he was not going to allow the stinging behind his eyes to get the better of him now; not like that and definitely not in front of his son’s best friend. He was not going to break down. It was stupid. It was bloody embarrassing. He was a grown man. He lived through the war. He was the Head of the Auror Department. He would not cry. It wasn’t even worth it.

‘Harry…’ said Scorpius, sounding as if he was speaking from another planet. ‘It can’t be that bad that you can’t even say it. Is it that I am not Al? Well, I’m pretty sure I can get some Polyjuice, though I’m afraid that the last of Al’s hair went down with that hoover-like spell you used.’

Harry went out of his stupor with a snort.

‘Are you always this funny or is it just for me?’ he asked.

Scorpius waggled his eyebrows.

‘Oh, Harry, you have no idea how funny I can be.’

Harry wondered just how drunk he was, sitting here with Scorpius Malfoy about to tell him that –

‘Ginny – my wife – decided that she doesn’t want to be with me anymore.’

In the end it was not so difficult to tell. Mainly, because there was not much to tell. It was it really. Harry didn’t understand. There were no arguments, no fights; just a simple family life with jobs and kids, holidays and occasional dinners with the Weasleys. And now she was out of love with him, packing her things and moving out. Harry looked around miserably. He didn’t know why and where and if there was someone else. He didn’t want to think or talk about it and getting drunk seemed like a good idea. He felt abandoned and betrayed; betrayed by her silence, by her refusal to tell him what had gone wrong and how he could fix it. He wanted to forget; to get rid of hurt and anger and bitterness that squeezed his throat and made it hard to breathe and think rationally. Why did it have to happen? Was it something he did? Was it the lack of excitement and adventure? He cast around for the change of topic.

‘So you don’t know when Al will be back?’ he asked and was pleased to note that while drunk to the point where his mind was pleasantly foggy and he didn’t care anymore who he was pouring his heart out to, his words were not slurred.

‘He won’t be back for a while.’ replied Scorpius.

Harry sighed.

‘I wish he chose something more to the purpose than – theatre. A real profession. I mean, what exactly is he going to do once he’s out of the Academy? It doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much of anything. Roaming the country and giving shows, I suppose.’ he said sullenly.

‘More to the purpose?’ asked Scorpius, looking at Harry incredulously. ‘I wonder what you mean by that.’

‘I mean something that would be of – use. Something more meaningful. Like the rest of us.’

‘In other words you’d wish to see Al stuck at the Ministry, filing reports, confiscating illegal stuff and hunting down dark wizards?’

‘Exactly!’ replied Harry, glad that Scorpius caught on so quickly. ‘He could do so much better with his name and talent!’

Scorpius shook his head.

‘So it would make you happy whether he likes it or not as long as it matches your idea of something ‘more meaningful’?’ said Scorpius slowly, his voice growing colder with each word. ‘Well, I’m afraid I can’t agree with you there. And when you say ‘like the rest of us’, who exactly do you include into this category, because I don’t see most of Al’s family doing something to the purpose as you put it.’

‘What?’ asked Harry, wishing that his head wasn’t feeling all fuzzy.

‘We don’t even have to go very far – your wife is a fine example.’ ploughed on Scorpius, ignoring Harry’s wince.

‘She used to play Quidditch, didn’t she? And now she is a sport correspondent for the Daily Prophet? That’s a very meaningful job.’ he said with a sneer. ‘And her two brothers – they work in a joke shop, right? Then there’s a curse breaker and the guy who works with dragons and James – ‘

‘Fine!’ snapped Harry, annoyed. ‘What’s your point?’

His head was spinning now. He felt thirsty, but he didn’t care about moving around, because his body was stuffed with cotton.

‘I’m just saying that Al’s choice of profession is as good as any and maybe it’s not this that bothers you so, but the fact that you simply want to work side by side with him.’ Scorpius’s hand was back on Harry’s. ‘You miss him. It’s understandable. You were always close and you wanted him to follow in your steps. To work alongside you. Succeed you even. But you cannot make his choices for him; he’s got to make his own way and who knows maybe in a few years he’ll get sick of the stage and will come knocking on your department’s door.’

Harry, as slow as he was, wondered if it was his imagination or if Scorpius’s hand had started creeping up his arm in a sort of caress. He didn’t know if it was supposed to be soothing – it certainly did nothing to calm him down – it felt way too intimate.

‘I’m not feeling well.’ he said thickly. He tried to stand up and when he did – to his great astonishment – he wobbled awkwardly until Scorpius took him by the elbow for support.

‘Then let’s take a walk.’ he said. ‘You look peaky. I’m sure fresh air will do you good.’

Harry snorted.

‘Yeah? I think you told me something like that when you invited me here.’

Scorpius chuckled as he led Harry to the door.

‘What can I say? You are one stubborn man.’

Harry blinked.

‘And you are a very persistent one.’ he muttered, all the while wondering what was going on.

But Scorpius was right. The moment fresh air hit Harry’s heated face, he felt much better. He took it in great gulps like a starved man.

‘You said that I’d feel better if I go with you, but now I feel less like Apparating than ever and if I take the Floo or the Knight Bus I will be spilling my guts in no time.’ Harry told him accusingly. ‘But I guess I’ll rather go with the Floo as I have no wish to do it publicly. Do you have a broomstick? I’d love to fly.’ said Harry as an afterthought. His eyes darted to the sky that was blinking at him encouragingly. Flying always made him feel happier and more alive than anything else. Why didn’t he think of it before? Why did he have to go running to Al and getting sidetracked by Scorpius?

‘Who says anything about your going, Harry?’ said Scorpius, steering Harry forward and turning into a narrow side street that was completely dark. ‘I just happen to have to be somewhere.’

‘And what’s that got to do with me?’ asked Harry, squinting to see where they were going. He still felt rather unsteady and Scorpius’s arm that, if he was not mistaken, was now wrapped securely around his waist did not make him feel any steadier. He wasn’t that drunk. Really. Just because he couldn’t see where he was going, didn’t mean that he couldn’t actually walk. He tried to point that out to Scorpius several times, but his tongue got tangled with the words.

‘Like I said – you shouldn’t be left on your own and now that I know the reason behind your misery I am not letting you go until you’re sufficiently distracted.’

‘I am distracted just fine, Scorpius.’ said Harry.

‘No, you’re not. I can feel you still thinking about it.’

Harry harrumphed.

‘I wonder why. It’s not like my wife has just dumped me.’

‘See? That’s what I mean. I hate seeing your face twist into this bitter grimace again and again.’

‘Really, Scorpius, it’s too dark to see my face.’

‘I have a good imagination.’

‘I just bet you do. So, where are we going?’ asked Harry, giving up trying to reason with Scorpius.

‘Well, there’s a club just a few blocks from here, where some of my friends and I play once in a while. And today just happens to be a once in a while thing.’

Now Harry was really distracted. He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Scorpius. They have just come across a spot of light from the moon that sailed from behind the clouds.

‘You play?’ asked Harry surprised.

‘Occasionally. It helps to take my mind off things. So, do you want to come?’ asked Scorpius, looking unusually self-conscious, possibly for the first time in his life.

Harry laughed.

‘Well, it’s a bit too late to be asking that now, seeing as how you’re dragging me with you – but, yeah, I’d love to come and watch you play.’

They set off again, a sense of adventure coiling in Harry’s gut.

Chapter 4

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 2

farida@normaplus.com — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 19:05:06 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 1472
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.

It was a short walk from the Academy and despite feeling very miserable at the moment Harry rather enjoyed himself. It was hard not to what with Scorpius’s entertaining talk and cheerful manner. Harry smiled to himself as he recalled a little boy, looking just like his father, standing on the Platform 9 and 3/4 on the first of September years ago. Who could have imagined back then that they would be walking side by side, laughing at Scorpius’s anecdotes? Who could have thought that Scorpius and Al would end up such good friends? Who would have believed that Scorpius, though with the same pointed face, blond hair and grey eyes, wouldn’t turn out as stuck-up as his father? It seemed that their similarity ended there. Harry’s relationship with the latter did not suffer material change throughout the years, even though their sons’ close friendship made it impossible for them not to meet on occasions and pretend to enjoy them, at least, for the sake of their offsprings. But while they acted without their Hogwarts-era animosity, they preserved enough coldness and distance so as not to appear particularly friendly with each other.

It was a nice flat, Harry thought. Or, it would have been nice, if someone took care to put all the things strewn around on their assigned places. But it seemed that the free spirit of the Academy was ever present here. Clothes, books and a number of unidentified objects cluttered every surface of the flat and Scorpius’s words that he must have the bottle of Ogdens somewhere didn’t sound so strange anymore. Harry rather dreaded going into the kitchen that seemed to be Scorpius’s destination. Surprisingly, it was the least messy place. It looked like it was hardly in use at all and therefore blessedly uncluttered. Harry sat down.

‘I’m afraid that neither Al nor I are particularly handy with household charms.’ said Scorpius when he caught Harry staring around. Harry snorted. Scorpius grinned and went back to rummaging through drawers and cupboards. ‘We rather tend to forget to clean after ourselves.’ he said. ‘And when we do want to put things on their proper places – occasionally – something always comes up to prevent us from doing it.’

Harry could very well relate to that. He remembered only too well how he didn’t bother to clear his trunk of all the mess gathered there up until his seventh year at Hogwarts and that was only because he wasn’t going back to school and therefore didn’t need most of the stuff packed inside. Years of married life taught him better, however.

As a matter of interest Harry decided to take a look inside the fridge and – froze. It was empty but for a stack of boxes so mouldy that Harry couldn’t be completely sure if it was their look or their stench that made him reel back and shut the door with a bang.

‘What?’ asked Scorpius at the horrified look on Harry’s face; his cheeks were flushed from the quest and a dusty bottle was held triumphantly in his hand.

‘Please, tell me that this is not what you and Al usually eat.’ said Harry, pointing at the fridge.

‘Oh that! We don’t use this thing. Does it work? I don’t think it’s ever been opened.’

‘You should have bothered at least.’ said Harry, shaking his head.

‘Why?’ asked Scorpius.

‘Well, let’s see – maybe because it smells like a foul-breathing dragon died there a century ago?’ replied Harry, brandishing his wand and muttering a few spells. He wasn’t sure they would be of any use here, but it was worth a try.

It took several attempts and once he could open the fridge without passing out, Harry turned his attention back to Scorpius.

‘Ok. Let’s go.’

Bewildered, Scorpius followed Harry out of the flat and into the nearest supermarket.

An hour or so later, the fridge was packed with food and placed under a sufficient number of preserving charms and the rooms acquired a more defined shape due to Harry’s intervention.

‘Scorpius, you don’t mind, do you, if I make it look less like a, well, a hovel?’ asked Harry, wincing as he stepped on something he didn’t want to examine too closely.

‘Well, I’m not fussed myself, but I can imagine how uncomfortable you may find tripping over my – er – underwear.’ said Scorpius cheekily, bending down and tugging at the offending piece of garment.

Harry felt his face heat up, which resulted in his being overzealous with the spells.

With that done, they relocated themselves to the kitchen and were half-way through the bottle of firewhiskey before Harry’s senses caught up with him and he tried to slow things down by putting away his glass. Scorpius, however, had other ideas.

‘Spill it.’ he said, refilling their glasses.

Harry, whose head was filled with a pleasant sort of buzzing by now and who felt as warm and dizzy as if he was stuck in the Floo, stared at him with absent-minded intensity until the meaning of Scorpius’s words caught up with him.

‘Excuse me?’ he asked at last, looking distrustfully at the glass that was being persistently nudged his way. He wondered if Scorpius was trying to set him drunk and shook his head in order to clear off the buzz. It didn’t work. Instead, Scorpius’s face split into a grin that was entirely too smug. Harry decided that he had to re-evaluate his opinion that Scorpius didn’t inherit anything but appearance from his father. Right now he looked like a right Malfoy git.

‘Come on, Harry,’ drawled Scorpius, taking a long sip and tasting it in a decidedly provoking way. ‘It’s obvious that something has happened. You look bloody miserable and you keep spacing out all the time. One moment you are here with me – the next your face all screws up in a bitter sort of grimace as if you are fighting with someone in your head and losing. I assume that it is nothing life-threatening or you wouldn’t be as calm as you are now; but something must have happened because you don’t normally come running to Al just to chat.’

Harry narrowed his eyes and pushed the glass away.

‘I understand that you and Al are very close and that you probably share everything there is, but I am not my son, Scorpius, so don’t presume to know me.’

‘Believe me, Harry, I know that you are not Al. But, really, you shouldn’t have given me leave to call you by your given name if you didn’t want me to pry into your personal matters. Besides, it’s not idle curiosity – I am worried about you. So, come on.’ insisted Scorpius, his eyes dancing. ‘Humour me.’

‘Why should I do that?’ asked Harry, wondering what Scorpius was playing at. He felt a sudden jolt when Scorpius placed his hand on his. Harry tried to backtrack and remember if it was their first bottle. He could never hold his liquor. Not unlike Scorpius it seemed, who was speaking again.

‘Because, for one, you look like you need to talk to someone about what’s troubling you and, secondly, you owe me.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Harry, swiftly prying his hand away (Why was it so sweaty all of a sudden?) and busying it with pouring drinks.

‘Well, look around the place,’ said Scorpius. ‘I have humoured you, haven’t I? I have let you clean it all up and now it’s unrecognizable. Can you imagine just how long it will take me to find my stuff in all this order? So, I think that it’s only common curtsey for you to do the same.’

‘I am rather surprised that your father didn’t teach you to keep things in better order. I certainly taught Al better than that.’ grumbled Harry. ‘Not that it made a huge impression on him, judging by the state of his room.’

Scorpius laughed, not taking his eyes off Harry. The hypnotising intensity of his stare was disconcerting. Harry decided that he needed another glass and gulped down the whole of it. It burned his throat and made his hands tremble. Scorpius was looking at him in rapt attention of a small child waiting for a bed-time story. But Harry knew that Scorpius was not a child anymore but a grown-up wizard with a rather snake-like attitude. He wasn’t sure what he was getting himself into – but he suddenly felt reckless and ready to plunge headfirst into whatever it was – and Scorpius was right: he did need to talk to someone and, besides, a thing like that could not be kept a secret for long. Not when your name was Harry Potter.

‘All right.’ he said at last, fight going out of his body, leaving him weary and strangely wound up. ‘You’ll find soon enough, anyway.’

Chapter 3

Taken by Surprise, Harry/Scorpius, part 1

farida@normaplus.com — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 20:39:06 GMT

Title: Taken by Surprise
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, past Harry/Ginny
Rating: NC-17 along the way
Word Count: 1117
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Summary: Harry’s marriage hits an iceberg and Scorpius swoops down to take advantage.

Harry stood rooted to the spot; his mouth was hanging open as he looked around with a dazed expression of someone recently hit by Confundus Charm. He realised his mistake the moment he stepped inside Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts – there was no way he would find Al here. A wide staircase stretched before him, covered with red velvety-looking carpet, showing images of women wrapped in togas, wearing masks and holding long scrolls of parchment. And up and down the stairs moved a chattering crowd of students and professors, followed by walking wardrobes, parts of forests and castles; tumbling down chintz armchairs, a waltzing table, an impressive mantelpiece; musical instruments, playing of their own accord; books, reciting passages out loud and many other inanimate objects sprung to life.

Entranced, Harry could only stare; out of all the wizarding places this struck Harry as the most magical one. The air itself here was unlike anywhere else; it was joyous and wondrous and free; people looked happy and the hall was filled with laughter. It was like getting a blast of Cheering Charm – worked wonders on one’s mood. Harry’s inner rebel took a large sniff. It was certainly very unlike the Ministry of Magic, where he spent most of his time and whose walls have become rather oppressive in recent years. For a split second he forgot the reason he was here until he heard, through the buzz of voices and sounds surrounding him like a thick cocoon, someone calling his name.

‘Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter? Are you all right?’

Harry turned around and came face to face with Scorpius Malfoy, grinning at him. Harry smiled back, deeply relieved. Finding Scorpius was the next best thing to finding his son – Scorpius would definitely know where Al was. They were inseparable most of the time; so much that once out of Hogwarts they decided to pursue the stage, entered the W. A. D. A. and rented a flat in the muggle neighbourhood nearby.

‘Scorpius!’ said Harry. ‘You have no idea how glad I am to see you!’

‘Is everything all right?’ asked Scorpius again with that perfect smile that made girls passing by swoon.

‘I’ve come to find Al, but I don’t know where to begin.’ replied Harry with a wry smile. ‘How do you navigate this place?’

Scorpius laughed.

‘Well, it certainly takes time and skill to learn the trick. But it’s no worse than Hogwarts.’

Harry let his doubt show on his face.

‘No, really. There are no ghosts to accidentally walk through, doors don’t pretend to be anything else but doors and staircases don’t move.’

‘Unlike everything else it seems.’ said Harry, pointing around. ‘Anyway, can you tell me where Al is?’

‘He’s not here. His class is away for the day. They’re doing some charity stuff for orphans or something. Just the kind of thing Al loves.’ replied Scorpius.

Harry’s smile faded. Not that the fact that his son was helping those in need made him unhappy, but he really needed him now. It was one of many disadvantages of having grown-up kids, he decided. You could no longer keep track of them.

‘Is something wrong?’ asked Scorpius, frowning.

Everything – was what Harry wanted to say, but it would not do. It had nothing to do with Scorpius. It was a family matter and Harry needed his family to deal with it. Though, maybe it was a good idea to deal with it on his own at first, before dumping it onto one of his children. The way it was dumped onto him: out of the clear blue sky. Or was he just too blind to see?

When Harry didn’t reply, Scorpius’s worry increased.

‘Mr. Potter, you are all right, aren’t you? Listen, our flat is a short way from here. Why don’t we go there and I make you a cup of tea – or something – something stronger? You look like you need it. I’m sure I must have a bottle of Ogdens somewhere.’

Harry shook his head and tried to smile, but his attempt failed and he just shook his head again.

‘I’m fine. There’s nothing to worry about. There is – was – a matter I wanted to talk to Al about. But it can wait. It’s ok. I should go.’ he rambled distractedly, turning to leave. He seemed to change his mind the next moment though, because he turned back to Scorpius and after some minor hesitation added, not quite meeting Scorpius’s eye. ‘I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell Al that I was here. I don’t want him to get all worked up. It’s really nothing. I’ll send him an owl and arrange to meet when his back from wherever he is. Well, bye then, Scorpius. It was nice to see you again.’

Harry turned to leave, but Scorpius stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

‘I don’t think I should be letting you go all on your own right now, Mr. Potter. Not in the state you are in. You are not yourself.’ he said gravely.

‘Really, Scorpius, I can take care of myself.’ said Harry, looking rather startled. He hoped he didn’t look as bad as he felt. Though, probably he did. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, didn’t he? Could never quite keep his feelings from showing on his face, could he?

‘I don’t think you can.’ insisted Scorpius, the pressure of his hand on Harry’s shoulder increasing perceptibly. ‘What if you Splinch yourself while Apparating? What am I going to tell Al then? When I could have prevented it? I don’t think so, Mr. Potter.’ he finished with a teasing smile.

Harry rolled his eyes.

‘First of, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me ‘Mr. Potter’? Harry will do just fine. And, secondly, I am sure I can manage to Apparate without Splinching myself even when I am not quite myself. Which I am not, by the way.’ he added hastily, in case Scorpius got it into his head that he was indeed out of sorts.

But for all that it achieved he could have just saved his breath. Scorpius looked at him shrewdly as if knowing exactly what he was thinking and Harry wondered if old Draco trained his son in Legilimency.

Then, he sighed and put his hands up in mock-surrender. Scorpius, he noted, looked rather pleased with himself.

‘Fine. Lead the way. At least I finally get to see where my son lives now.’

Since Al moved out, Harry was yet to see the place and his curiosity was as unconquerable as ever so as not to take the best of him and make him follow Scorpius.

Chapter 2

Harry/Scorpius fic, part 10 (definitely the last:)

farida@normaplus.com — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 20:48:41 GMT

This is the last part (I love even numbers!) that I should have posted long ago. Anyway, here it is now. I hope you’ll like it. Thank you for reading! I will start posting a new Harry/Scorpius fic tomorrow.

Title: Harry Potter and Another Malfoy
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, Harry/Draco, mentions of Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2808
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Warnings: mentions of mpreg, screwed-up canon, epilogue, kids, jobs and relationships.
Summary: Harry is the object of Scorpius Mafloy’s affection, but his life is rather complicated at the moment and fully depends on the mercy of Scorpius’s father.

***

Harry woke up gasping with pleasure as Scorpius was claiming every inch of his body with single-minded determination. Such was the aftermath of Harry’s lunch with Malfoy and his talk with Scorpius afterwards. It became clear to Harry just how deeply-rooted was Scorpius’s fear that he was harbouring some secret passion for his father, due to Malfoy’s past monopoly on his body. And when words once again failed to stress Harry’s deepest dislike of the man, the speedy change of sleeping arrangements was in order.

Perhaps, letting Scorpius into his bed when not a day passed since he’d scolded him for speeding things up was not the wisest of ways to reassure him, but it was definitely a very productive one and it worked wonders on Scorpius’s confidence as a lover. It seemed that just like Harry he worried too much about the age disparity. He was also residing under the impression that his father was ‘really great’ in bed. Harry did not comment on the truth or false of the statement when it came up. It was not the subject he would ever willingly pursue. It was still too raw and painful and the memory of it guaranteed him quite a few nightmares along the way.

They spent a nice family evening and talked well into the night, but at parting stood awkwardly apart, not meeting each other’s gaze, as if not quite sure how to go about saying good-bye now that they were officially a couple. Malfoy might not have given them his wholehearted blessing, but he didn’t oppose their liaison either, which was as well as they could have hoped for coming from him. Verbal good-byes seemed dry and incomplete and a peck on the cheek would not do, not after their heated greeting in the corridor.

They have been restraining themselves all through the evening, acting like responsible adults and keeping their hands discreetly under the table – lacing their fingers together – while waiting for the change of course. Harry had to remind himself more than once that he was in fact an adult, despite how young and giddy and irresponsible Scorpius made him feel. So they stood and shuffled their feet and smiled stupidly until they finally launched at each other and kissed for all their worth. Then gasping for air they broke apart and took the stairs, their fingers interlaced.

Scorpius retired to his bedroom without a word of protest and Harry realised with a pang that doubts and regrets were still there, marring his handsome face. He would not sneak into Harry’s room again, but he would probably spend the night tossing and turning and wondering. Once in his room, Harry realised that his night would be equally spoilt unless he lets Scorpius in and reassures him that he wants only him and that there is no one else he’d rather be with. He was determined to dismantle Scorpius’s fears once and for all and he couldn’t go on lying to himself and pretend that he’d rather wake up alone than with Scorpius.

He quietly went down the stairs, minding the creaking steps, wondering why his heart was beating so loudly in his ears and feeling as if he was breaking school rules and not visiting his lover. He knocked on the door and slipped inside before Scorpius had time to reply. Scorpius was sitting on the bed, his head hanging down, and looked rather shocked to find Harry standing against the door.

‘Hey.’ said Harry as if they haven’t just said their good-byes. He was feeling unaccountably nervous, as if he was approaching a nesting dragon. His legs felt like they would give up on him at any moment.

‘Hey.’ replied Scorpius automatically.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed and looked down. Then up. Then down again. Then laughed nervously. Why did he feel so stupid? Scorpius stared at him.

‘Harry, is everything all right?’ he asked.

‘Yeah.’ said Harry. He took a deep breath. ‘I just – do you – that is – will you – I –‘ he stopped and lapsed into frustrated silence.

‘What?’ asked Scorpius. ‘What is it?’

‘Harry?’

Harry licked his lips. They were as parched as if he was walking in the desert. He realised that he’d never proposed having sex before and that he was not very good at it.

He took a deep breath, collected the remaining vestiges of his courage and launched forward.

‘I just wanted to tell you that you shouldn’t spend the night here.’

‘I shouldn’t?’

‘In fact, I’m pretty sure that you should be spending the night – all nights – with me.’

‘You mean it?’ asked Scorpius, his breath catching in his throat. It was obvious that he couldn’t believe his ears.

Harry smiled and squeezed his hand.

‘Of course, I mean it. Do you think I’d come here and make a complete fool of myself if I didn’t mean it? I shouldn’t have imposed an embargo on bed-sharing in the first place. I – I want to spend the night with you – you know – to – well, you know. If you want to, that is.’

He looked up at Scorpius. He knew that he was blushing furiously.

‘Do you want to? Do you want me?’ he asked, his heart beating louder than ever.

Scorpius replied with a very enthusiastic bout of kissing and groping.

‘Let’s go then.’ said Harry, bubbling with happiness. He was out of breath and laughing, tugging on Scorpius’s hand.

They moved but at the door Scorpius stopped and tugged back. Harry looked at him questioningly.

‘What?’

‘Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you, Harry. I am impatient but I know that you need time to cope with all of this and that not enough time has passed since you and my father – ‘

‘Shush.’ said Harry, shutting Scorpius up with a ferocious kiss.

‘I don’t want to talk about your father. He has no place in my thoughts or heart or bed.’

And then Harry was gone – all thoughts of sneaking quietly and undetected forgotten. Scorpius blinked, laughed and chased him up the stairs. They burst into Harry’s room in a fit of unrestrained giggles and promptly collapsed onto Harry’s bed, gasping for breath. They lay there for a while. Harry’s hands were roaming Scorpius’s back as he was lying half-way across him. When he looked up, Harry smiled and touched his face, tracing it slowly as if mesmerized.

‘You make me feel so young.’ he said softly, as if confessing a terrible crime. ‘I don’t feel older than you. Maybe even younger. Is it possible? I want to do silly things when I’m with you. I blush and giggle and sneak around my own house. I wish I was your age. But I feel your age.’ he said wonderingly. ‘Come here. Kiss me.’

Scorpius did as he was told. It was all teeth and tongue; messy and frantic and right. They kissed and rubbed against each other and soon enough the clothes became too restricting. They blindly reached out, fumbling to get it off one another, trying not to break the kiss, their teeth biting, their noses bumping, their fingers scraping skin.

‘I want you.’ rasped Harry. ‘Now. I don’t want to wait anymore.’

‘I’m not particularly inclined to wait either.’ replied Scorpius in between mapping Harry’s body with his mouth.

Harry laughed and wiggled his feet impatiently and Scorpius scooted backwards so as to manoeuvre him to a more advantageous position. His hands were shaking. He has wanted Harry for years. And now here he was – beneath him – inches away from being his. At last. Scorpius took a deep breath. He would be coming in no time if Harry didn’t stop his wiggling. He put his hands on Harry’s thighs to limit his movements.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.’ He said hoarsely. ‘Wanted to see you just like this. Wanted to - ’

‘You can tell me all about it later, dear.’ said Harry with a teasing smile, spreading his legs invitingly. ‘Now you’d better show me.’

Scorpius, Harry decided, was very good at following orders; just as he was pretty easily manageable with only a few kisses. He proceeded to show Harry just how long and how much he wanted him until Harry saw stars and screamed his pleasure for the whole world to hear.

He had not been able to really enjoy anything sex-related for years now. It brought him neither physical nor emotional pleasure. There was always the knowledge of what it really was behind the action and Malfoy never cared about making him feel good or satisfied. It was generally a rather humiliating experience for Harry; always preceded or followed by cutting remarks, unpleasant rituals or uncomfortable contraptions.

Of course, Harry would feel heartily ashamed at his behaviour later, but he didn’t care now. Not when he was falling asleep with Scorpius’s arms wrapped tightly around him, sweaty and sated.

He woke up in much the same way he fell asleep: gasping with pleasure. He made a pleased sound somewhere in his throat and alerted Scorpius to the fact that he wanted to make it a reciprocal thing. They kissed slowly and tenderly – there was no rush this time. Later, they lay facing each other, exchanging small touches and smiles, enjoying peace and quiet, too lazy to move. That’s why it came as a shock when Scorpius asked out of the blue –

‘Why do you eat so little?’

Harry stared.

‘What?’

Then burst out laughing.

‘Scorpius,’ he said when his laughter died down at last (Scorpius waited patiently with only a tiny bit of scowl on his face). ‘I knew that you wouldn’t exactly sprout endearments at me at every turn, but it seems like another sort of extreme – talking about my diet.’

‘I know your eating habits as well as mine.’ went on Scorpius. ‘I’ve watched you for years eating as little as a canary, but it’s never been my place to enquire as to its cause – now it is. Will you kindly tell me why?’

Harry sighed and trailed his hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and pressed his head against the headboard.

‘It’s nothing. Really. I’ve never had much food at the Dursleys. They weren’t starving me!’ he added when Scorpius let out a rather frightening growl. ‘Just didn’t let me eat all that much – enough to keep me going. Maybe they thought that lack of food would keep my magic at bay.’ he smiled, but Scorpius didn’t smile back.

‘Hogwarts was the first place where I ate my first ever full meal. Anyway, I could go on little food as well as a lot. It was never a big deal with me. Kreacher, of course, made every meal look and taste like a mini Hogwarts feast. When I got pregnant, I started gaining weight. It’s stupid. Ron once told me that he wouldn’t want to have a whale for a husband and I – just – you know – I had this image of my cousin in front of my eyes – I was afraid I’d turn up like him. I was pretty big. Like I said, it’s stupid. I was afraid that Ron wouldn’t want me anymore. Would leave me. I started regulating what I was eating, how much I was eating. It became a habit. I was eating enough. Just enough. I didn’t need more. Once Al was born, I started flying regularly – to keep fit. I didn’t want to go to seed. It was my greatest fear.’

Harry shrugged. At the moment he looked like someone plainly disgusted with himself. He opened his eyes and looked at Scorpius, hoping that he wouldn’t see matching disgust in his eyes. Scorpius seemed to have become speechless, though his outrageous look was eloquent enough. He didn’t look disgusted. Harry kissed him.

‘It’s ok. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m eating. I don’t need more.’

‘I hate your ex-husband.’ grounded out Scorpius at last. It took a lot of effort not to fling himself out of bed and go and torture Ron Weasley with some really nasty curse.

‘He is Al’s father, you know.’ pointed out Harry with a serene smile, that Scorpius didn’t understand. His insides were boiling with rage and hexes were on the tip of his tongue.

‘He doesn’t seem to know that.’ replied Scorpius darkly. ‘Al told me that he never once visited you; never once send a birthday greeting to Al or Allegra after he’d left. I hate him. I hope I will never be in the same room with him, because I swear I will not be able to control myself. I’m glad that neither Al nor Allegra look very much like him. I’m glad they are not redheads. I hate redheads.’

‘Hey, calm down.’ said Harry, rubbing Scorpius’s hand soothingly. ‘It’s all in the past and I am sure you don’t mind that I’m fit and agile in my age.’ he said teasingly, flaunting his body from under the covers in order to distract Scorpius from his murderous thoughts.

Scorpius looked very tempted. He also looked suspiciously guilty. Harry raised an eyebrow and placed the covers back over him. Scorpius groaned.

‘Scorpius? Is there anything you want to tell me?’

A sudden thought struck him.

‘Please, tell me that you haven’t gone and done something stupid.’

‘It wasn’t my fault!’

‘Bloody hell! I was joking! What did you do?!’

‘I didn’t do anything! It was an accident. I wondered if you were going to ask me about it, but you never did – so I thought you were ok with it.’

‘Ask you about what? Ok with what?’ asked Harry majorly frustrated.

‘Don’t you read Evening Prophet?’ asked Scorpius, surprised.

‘I haven’t been up to reading for the last week or so. Dealing with your father was enough. Why?’

Scorpius ‘Accio’ed the newspaper and Harry heard an unmistakable yell of indignation of one of the inhabitants of the house at being smacked by the offending piece of press.

‘Here.’ said Scorpius, shoving him the front page. The heading read: ‘Explosion at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes: An Accident or A New Product Gone Awry?’

‘Well? Are you going to tell me?’ demanded Harry, looking up the page. The article concentrated mostly on how risky the products have become of late and how parents were concerned for their children’s safety. There were no victims however, though the staff was understandably shaken, and the source of the explosion was undetermined. The enquiry was to be held.

‘I was in the Diagon Alley. I needed to purchase some new brushes. I was walking along the street, minding my own business when I saw the shop and he was standing in the window, arranging new products and his – ‘

‘Lavender.’ supplied Harry helpfully, when it was clear that Scorpius was about to produce a very descriptive and nasty word.

‘- whatever – clinging onto him like a fish to sand. It was a disgusting sight. I suddenly got so mad – seeing him and that stupid bint. I couldn’t control it – I haven’t been prone to accidental outbursts of magic since I got my wand – but I just blew the display. Thankfully, they had moved out of the way before it happened.’

Scorpius buried his head in the pillow with a groan. Harry laughed and stroked his back.

‘I know I shouldn’t be laughing and I probably should be reprimanding you for that. But no one’s got hurt and I am not your father. And so long as you didn’t do it on purpose, I don’t see how it can be considered your fault. Still, we must do something about that explosive temper of yours. You cannot go on setting things on fire or you’ll end up blowing up Malfoy Manor and we wouldn’t want that.’ said Harry merrily, before showering Scorpius’s back with butterfly kisses.

Just then an owl tapped on the window. They both looked up. It was an eagle owl. Harry knew it well. It looked totally put out. He went to the window, opened it and untied the letter attached to its leg. He didn’t attempt to pat her though. He didn’t fancy being bitten by Malfoy’s owl. It had a very nasty temper and a very sharp beak. The owl flew off with a glare and Harry unrolled the piece of parchment.

‘What does he want?’ grumbled Scorpius.

‘To have a family dinner. Al and Allegra are also invited.’ said Harry, waving the letter. ‘Tomorrow at seven. Think you can learn to control your temper by then?’

Scorpius rolled over.

‘I might be induced to behave myself, if I have sufficiently pleasant memories to distract me. Think you can help me there?’

Harry laughed, put the letter aside and flung himself on Scorpius.

‘Let’s see, shall we?’

The End

Harry/Scorpius fic, part 9 (probably the last)

farida@normaplus.com — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 11:11:02 GMT

Title: Harry Potter and Another Malfoy
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, Harry/Draco, mentions of Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3891
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Warnings: mentions of mpreg, screwed-up canon, epilogue, kids, jobs and relationships.
Summary: Harry is the object of Scorpius Mafloy’s affection, but his life is rather complicated at the moment and fully depends on the mercy of Scorpius’s father.

***

Harry half expected Scorpius to follow him into the shower but was pleased to note that he didn’t fail the test when Harry didn’t close the door, leaving it temptingly open. The important thing was to keep the balance in their relationship and not let one party take over the other. Especially, since Harry didn’t feel overly confident when it came to executing his power over Scorpius and wasn’t going to jump with joy if Scorpius took a leaf out of his father’s book and tried to exercise power over him. There was nothing that he could hold over his head, thought Harry, before he remembered (with a slip on the tiled bathroom floor) a sizable collection of paintings that showed him in varying states of dress, undress and decency, depending on Scorpius’s age, mood and imagination. Harry’s cheeks flushed.

But he shook his head. Scorpius was not his father. And never was; no matter how hard Malfoy tried to make him see the world through his eyes and follow in his steps. He and Scorpius were always on good terms and Scorpius never failed to treat Harry with respect or heed his words and there was no reason why his attitude had to change now that they were a couple. If anything, Harry suspected, it would only be reinforced by their new status. But though it was a comforting idea, Harry didn’t escape from an avalanche of other, more worrisome thoughts, that attacked him once he was alone and could not be distracted by a handsome young man and his ministrations. As he stepped into the shower and willed his body to relax under the soothing stream of water, his mind took over and launched another thinking-things-through round. It proved to be one of the longest showers that Harry had ever had in his life.

What Harry didn’t tell Scorpius was that he felt like he’d missed a few steps ahead of him and fell straight through the door without taking time to reach and open it at his own pace. He was sure that there was a crucial step or two on the way to their relationship that he’d severely neglected – but the problem was that he couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to be and thus couldn’t retract his steps and go from there. Instead, he hit his head and had his breath knocked out of him so that he felt disoriented and confused and could only envy the ease and confidence with which Scorpius approached the whole thing. But Harry’s confidence in himself as well as in his ability to maintain a long and happy relationship left him alongside Ron. And the fact that Scorpius was young, rich, handsome and successful at his chosen career did nothing to promote Harry’s self-esteem or make him any more secure about being in a relationship with him. Actually, when he thought about it, Harry wasn’t entirely sure what being in a relationship meant. He had no clear idea how relationships worked when not immediately forced by a baby or financial crisis and he wondered if he wasn’t making a mistake.

Another thing that left Harry worried was his family, his friends and at last the whole wizarding community and their reaction to the news of their affair. He knew perfectly well that a relationship such as theirs (starring a war-hero-turned-single-dad with barely a Sickle to his name and a young prosperous artist not to mention a Malfoy all complete with age disparity, different background and social standing) would become immediate public knowledge, garner obsessive attention from all quarters and make a first page story for weeks to come. It would be a thing to gasp over and speculate about and find immoral and Harry (as it was always the case) would be the one to carry the cloak of notoriety and all the name calling to go with it. The most important thing in such a situation was, naturally, to keep things from turning ugly and to give their story a positive spin. And there was only one person who could juggle the press any way he liked that Harry knew of and who could make what was undoubtedly a sordid affair sound like a fairy-tale romance that everyone would salivate over.

Harry went downstairs with due amount of strain and trepidation, thinking about a difficult day ahead and the looming lunch with the person whom a large portion of his happiness depended upon. He stopped in the doorway and smiled as he watched Allegra attacking her breakfast like a human version of a bulldozer and shovelling it in very much the same way her other father did. It was remarkable that while her appetite was as healthy as Ron’s she was as scrawny as Harry was at her age, even though she’d never seen an inside of a cupboard or anything cramped and dark. Harry leaned against the doorframe and felt happiness surging through him. He always felt this way whenever he looked at Al and Allegra. No matter what disappointments and hardships he faced, it took him just one look at them to set everything right.

Albus was nowhere to be seen and Harry had enough time to curse himself for taking so much time with the shower and missing him when he was engulfed in a bear hug from behind.

‘What’s with the lover-boy?’ asked Al cheerfully. ‘He’s in a right snit over something and refuses to come down to have breakfast. I thought he’d be happy now that he’s here. With you. One would think that was all he ever wanted. But I guess you never know these things until they happen.’

Harry frowned and slowly took a seat as soon as Al had let go of him. It didn’t look like his son at least had to be informed of the affair after all. Did Scorpius tell him? But when? Harry was rather off-balanced by his son’s reaction. He would have expected a ‘How could you do it?’ sort of conversation, an argument, even a tantrum wouldn’t be out of place. But if anything Al looked uninterested in hows and whys, did not look betrayed and was not questioning Harry’s sanity nor throwing accusations at him. Which was a huge relief, but highly irregular. Harry did not think he would act as unconcerned or calm if Albus (Merlin forbid!) told him that he had an affair with someone who was twice his age and went to school with Harry. No, his reaction would be something entirely different and it made him feel like a right hypocrite but there it was.

Harry cleared his throat, took a fortifying gulp of tea and addressed his son with all the uncomfortable feelings that the occasion merited.

‘I must say that this is not the kind of reaction I would expect.’

‘Why?’ asked Al, while racing Allegra to a piece of bacon for fun and winning. Allegra made a noise between a gurgle and a giggle, yelled ‘Dad! Tell him!’ and made a vaguely threatening stabbing motion with her fork. Al turned the fork into a rabbit; Allegra screamed, let go off the animal, toppled onto the floor and hopped away, though not without promising her brother vengeance once she could use magic.

‘I don’t know, Al. But doesn’t it bother you that your best friend and your father are, well, together. You can’t say that you don’t find it strange, maybe even improper.’ said Harry.

Al shrugged.

‘I guess I would be shocked if it was news to me. And I was shocked at first. It was not something I would imagine could happen. I mean, I had no idea that Scorpius would take his infatuation with you this far. I knew that he was fascinated by you, read every book on you, asked questions about you. But so did lots of kids, you know. And it wasn’t such a stretch to suppose that he saw you as a kind of father that his father never was and craved your attention, support and affection. And, well, you gave plenty of that. So he got completely crazy about you, but I thought it was just a teenage crush and that it would go away once he found another object to adore. Only it never did. He grew more and more serious and I realised that he would get you one day. I can’t say that I wasn’t shocked by that but I got used to the idea. Besides, you’ve never been on the receiving end of his letters and, trust me, you don’t want to, but they had a fair share in preparing me for the possible outcome.’

He looked seriously at his father and added:

‘I mean, it’s up to you. No one is forcing you into anything. And if you’ve been worried about my reaction – you don’t have to. I’m ok with it as long as you are and I really think that Scorpius can be good for you. You’ve always been a good team and always seemed to understand each other. So the real question is if this is what you want.’

Harry smiled wryly.

‘Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? I wake up one day and realise that I have feelings for Scorpius. But where have they been all this time and how come I had no idea that they were there? I keep going back, wondering, blaming myself for not being more reserved and letting Scorpius’s feelings loose.’

‘Dad – just stop. Haven’t you suffered enough?’

‘Suffered - what?’

‘Dad,’ Al almost whined and rolled his eyes. ‘I might have been just a kid when father left,’ Al didn’t like to mention his other father and his face showed just by how much. ‘But I’d known even before that happened that you were deeply unhappy. Now you have a chance at something with a person who genuinely cares for you – so why not just take it and see what happens?’

And so Harry did. He saw them off to the Quidditch match and, though awkwardly (but refusing to feel guilty over what he was about to do) Harry kissed Scorpius good-bye. Scorpius returned the kiss and Harry was pleased that while he was still obviously angry over the lunch with his father, Scorpius was not about to object his decision.

The lunch was Harry’s idea. It was meant as a reconciliatory move. When Malfoy found out about Harry’s relationship with Scorpius, he was beyond furious. Of course, Harry wished that Scorpius was a bit more tactful when informing his father of their entanglement and not flat out tell him that he was moving in with Harry and professing his undying love for him (or whatever it was that he felt the need to profess) in order to piss his father off. Harry didn’t know the particulars of their conversation and the exact expressions that Scorpius used to describe his feelings, but judging by his glee at having accomplished it, he must have been supremely careless and stupid. And it was up to Harry now to smooth things over. It was not pleasant. Malfoy immediately discharged him from his desk job and said, not without malice, that he no longer required his services in bed but that he would be most willing to pass on the word and supply him with necessary references.

The words meant to hurt and they did. Harry’s dignity and pride, that didn’t exactly prosper under Malfoy’s rule, were pretty much destroyed by that final blow. But that new circumstance that prompted Malfoy to be blunt and offensive also prompted Harry to be extra solicitous. So he stayed as long as it took him to convince Malfoy to have lunch with him and talk things over. If there was one thing that he learnt about Malfoy, it was that he liked to have some sort of power over Harry and now that he was deprived of his body and dependence he was left with nothing but a desire to destroy Harry. He had ample means to do so too, but Harry knew that he would not; not when his son would get into the mix. Thus to keep balance of things Harry was prepared to give Malfoy that bit of advantage that would keep him relatively happy under the circumstances. He would ask for his help with the press; it would place him under Malfoy’s protection and would give Malfoy something to taunt him about; not to mention, grant calling in favours. Harry was none too happy about the arrangement but he saw no other alternative and being with Scorpius would put him permanently in Malfoy’s subordination, anyway.

‘I have to hand it to you.’ said Malfoy as they faced each other across the table, surrounded by the blossoming beauty of Harry’s garden. The inside of the house seemed too confining to Harry in case Malfoy decided to hex him. ‘I had no idea that you were capable of this, but now I know that I should not have underestimated you and your goody-two-shoes routine.’

Harry had no idea what he meant, but waited patiently for him to draw out every word. He was obviously enjoying keeping Harry in suspense and Harry was ready to oblige him as long as it got him what he wanted in the end. And then, of course, he was rather curious to hear what Malfoy had to say. Malfoy was a master of ranting. And if Harry were honest with himself, right now Malfoy had every reason to be in a rant mode.

‘You just don’t give up, do you?’ said Malfoy with narrowed eyes. Harry wondered if he was waiting for a reply. He wasn’t. ‘You were crushed when Weasel left you.’

Harry frowned, wondering what Ron had got to do with anything.

‘You were a wreck.’ continued Malfoy with relish. ‘You had an unwanted pregnancy to deal with and no money to support yourself and your brats. And yet – you were not broken. In fact, as far as I remember, you were disgustingly happy to have another spawn. Naturally, without giving any thought to how you were going to raise it on magic alone. But there really was no reason for you to be happy – abandoned, broke, left by friends and admirers, your name in shambles – but did you care about any of it?’ Malfoy shook his head, looking disgusted. ‘So I got curious – was there a breaking point for you? And I became your shoulder to cry on, your support, your company, your financial security and you gobbled it all down like a greedy child without wondering – not once – what you would have to give in return.’

Harry could argue with that but there was no time as Malfoy went on.

‘And then, at your most vulnerable, I told you the price.’ he smirked with fond memories. ‘I wondered then if it was that – the moment I would see you shatter. But though understandably stunned you were not unwilling to pay. I thought it would destroy you. Did you even realise that I basically turned you into my whore? And the things I made you do – anyone would break.’ a shake of his head and another fond smile. ‘But not you. Of course, I had no idea what your ultimate revenge would be. I wonder, how long did it take you to come up with this plan?’ His face hardened. ‘You took away my son. What do you have to say for yourself?’

Harry looked at him coolly.

‘I didn’t take anything from you.’ he replied. ‘He is still your son. Will always be. If you let him. And you are wrong, Malfoy. It was never a plan. Not mine, at least. And it is not revenge.’

Malfoy sneered.

‘So what’s your secret, Potter? What makes you so stubbornly happy?’

A bird twittered merrily on the branch above and Malfoy scowled.

‘If you’re looking for answers, you won’t find them here.’ said Harry with pity in his voice. ‘There is nothing I can say for myself that will satisfy you. I know that. And you don’t have to believe me when I tell you that I didn’t plan this, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You can be angry with me. You can hate me. You can even try to hex me. I can only imagine what you must be feeling now. But I would never think of taking revenge on you or anybody else and I would never use Scorpius like that. I don’t believe in revenge. It certainly did nothing for you.’

‘Maybe not.’ drawled Malfoy. ‘But there is an irony in all of this that I can appreciate. If it keeps up, you will be the one to give the next Malfoy heir. You do realise that, don’t you? So, how’s that for revenge, Potter? And don’t forget about all the family dinners that you’ll be entitled to attend from now on. And I know just how much you love those.’ He stopped as if to think and then added: ‘But tell me, are you going to live off of my son’s money or are you going to make some of your own? My offer of assistance still stands, of course, though I don’t think that Scorpius will appreciate it.’ he said with a sneer.

‘He won’t have to. Despite what you might think of my poor connections within the Ministry, I do have them as well as job offers that don’t include out of office hours.’ replied Harry.

Insults were a part of their routine and this would never change. Malfoy would always have something insulting to say and Harry thought that he had grown pretty much accustomed to most of it by now. But tougher skin or no, he couldn’t pretend that they didn’t make him feel bad and even worthless. Still, he supposed, he could live with them, knowing that Malfoy had to live with so much worse now.

‘You know,’ started Malfoy after a pause and Harry cringed inwardly. It didn’t sound like an opening he needed to pursue his line of persuasion. ‘I never stopped wondering if things would have been different if I made a better impression on you at Madam Malkin’s and then on that blasted train ride. If you had taken my hand.’

Harry looked at him incredulously. It was incredible that someone could be still holding on to this childish, petty grudge after all these years. It was impossible to imagine that Malfoy was still looking back on that moment in time as if it decided their future fates. Derisive laughter choked Harry, but he clamped his mouth shut and gulped it down before replying.

‘Do not fool yourself into thinking that if I had taken your hand, things would have been different. The moment I refused to follow you and your beliefs, you would turn your back on me. Rest assured that this is the one regret that you don’t need to have.’

On the whole, Harry was not without hope that this would work and that Malfoy would be satisfied with the kind of power he had over Harry now. But it was an exhausting interview and it often strayed into the areas that Harry was most unwilling to revisit. He was very happy when Malfoy was gone and sagging to the floor with weariness of spirit rather than body could not help but wonder, again, if he was making the right choice.

The arrival of Al, Allegra and Scorpius did not bring the wished for relief. Apparently Scorpius’s mood was not improved by an afternoon outside and his mind was not diverted by the match and Allegra’s incessant commentary that didn’t cease even now. He looked sullen and ready to burst out with frustration. Al, sensing the awkwardness, carried Allegra off to the kitchen, while Harry and Scorpius remained in the corridor.

Scorpius took off his cloak and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his muggle jeans. He looked sourly at Harry, his breathing harsh as though he had been in a fight. Harry stared coolly back. This childish behaviour was in accord with Malfoy nature but he was quickly becoming resistant to it.

‘So what was it this time?’ asked Scorpius savagely when it became obvious that Harry was not about to volunteer any information. ‘A full-out shag session? A hand job? A blow job? A lap dance? Just don’t stand there and pretend that it was just a lunch!’

Harry shook his head and laughed. Bitterly.

‘It was just a lunch – believe it or not.’ Sighing impatiently he added. ‘I’m getting tired of explaining myself to you, Scorpius. I made a mistake. I fully own up to it. But you can’t keep sending me on this guilt trip. This is not the way to make a relationship work. And one thing I am not going to pretend is that I like what you’re doing now.’ snarled Harry.

He looked at Scorpius then and when their eyes met he realised that Scorpius looked lost and insecure and that he had to be really reassured that his father had no chance of taking his place. Harry was stunned. He didn’t consider himself to be such a great catch as to make a wizard like Scorpius unsure of himself and feel the need to compete for Harry with another man. It was rather flattering.

Harry smiled and took a few steps that brought him flush with Scorpius.

‘You don’t trust me at all, do you?’ he asked gently.

‘It’s him. I don’t trust him when it comes to you.’ said Scorpius, possessively putting his hands on Harry’s hips.

‘Then trust me. And trust me when I tell you that your father will not attempt anything of the kind again. Whatever he is, he will not hurt you like that – even if it means that he will have to spare me.’

‘Just promise me not to go behind my back when dealing with him.’ said Scorpius determinedly. ‘Whatever you have to tell him, I want to be there to hear it.’

Harry sighed but moved his hand to touch his cheek.

‘Your father is not your competition, Scorpius. And you cannot discount his feelings on the matter. He can’t be happy about any of it. I wouldn’t be.’

‘Promise me.’ insisted Scorpius, biting Harry’s thumb.

‘Fine. If it makes you feel better. But tell me, have you been thinking about this all day? Your father and me. Coming up with scenarios. Picturing it all in vivid, painful detail. Sacrificing a day with your friend and torturing yourself. Coming back all riled up and narrowly avoiding a fight.’

Scorpius flushed.

‘Couldn’t help it.’ he mumbled and pressed his face into the crook of Harry’s neck.

He took a long deliberate sniff and Harry laughed.

‘Ok, you have established your claim. Can we move on now?’ he asked, meaning more than just their move into the kitchen. Scorpius nodded.

They kissed. It was a long, soft kiss. Bitter with forgiveness and sweet with promises. Their hands in a maddening rush to feel, to touch, to own.

In a while, they joined Al and Allegra for a kind of a family dinner that Harry always looked forward to.

Harry/Scorpius fic, part 8

farida@normaplus.com — Fri, 19 Dec 2008 20:06:42 GMT

Title: Harry Potter and Another Malfoy
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, Harry/Draco, mentions of Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2189
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Warnings: mentions of mpreg, totally screwed-up canon, epilogue, kids, jobs and relationships and mean!Ron (cause someone has to be).
Summary: Harry is the object of Scorpius Mafloy’s affection, but his life is rather complicated at the moment and fully depends on the mercy of Scorpius’s father.

In this part there is some snuggling and lots of talking. Sorry for any mistakes!

***

It wasn’t unusual for Harry, in the absence of anything resembling a love life, to go to bed alone and to wake up with company. It was not unusual for Albus (before) and for Allegra (now) to have an occasional nightmare or just an irresistible wish to snuggle with their dad. What was unusual, on this particular morning as Harry slowly became aware of being awake and decidedly not alone, was the fact that the snuggler’s touch in this case was none too filial. In fact, it went far beyond a simple touch and extended to include a brush of lips against the back of his neck, a caress across his shoulder blades, an arm that settled experimentally around his waist and a hand that boldly slid down to set camp on his thigh. Harry sighed into his pillow and prayed for strength against temptation. He had to be strong – he simply couldn’t let Scorpius take over his life without so much as an effort. He was not that easy and in retrospect it wouldn’t be any different from the way he’d fallen into a relationship with Malfoy.

Besides, no matter how good it felt, it was still too early to be indulging in this sort of thing. It still felt wrong, unspeakable; it still belonged in the restricted section of his life, where shadows and whispers met. Harry was in no way prepared to find himself entangled with Scorpius either in life or in bed and he was not yet ready to admit that he fell for his son’s best friend; at least not by means of letting Scorpius take full possession of his body without putting up a fight first. Scorpius, though, didn’t seem to have anything against moving forward at what Harry thought was a speed of light. His fingers, with a feather-like touch that for all its softness didn’t lack in determination, were doing a great job of shutting up what was left of the rational part of Harry’s brain that protested loudly against his ministrations in the first place. But the voice of reason was swiftly fading away and Harry knew that he had to make sure that Scorpius knew of his displeasure before it died down completely.

‘Somehow I didn’t think that even you would sneak into my bed on the first night of your stay here when I specifically warned you against doing anything of the kind.’ said Harry, mastering his best I’m-disappointed-in-you voice and managing surprisingly well despite his body melting into Scorpius’s touch.

In reply Scorpius pressed his face against Harry’s back as if fully intending to memorize his breathing pattern. Harry shook his head and wondered if he could manage a non-verbal spell just about now. A stinging hex would do a nice job he supposed: not harmful but very effective. Because no matter how great Scorpius made him feel, he was none too pleased that he violated his trust, privacy and rules put down in front of him so soon. As far as Harry was concerned it was not a very good beginning of a relationship.

‘You do realize that you are assaulting me in my own bed, don’t you?’ he asked when Scorpius’s hands, completely discounting the deliberate coldness of his voice, started feeling even more at home as they continued to explore his body.

‘I was cold.’ came Scorpius muffled reply. ‘And as you know it is customary for the host to make sure that the guest enjoys a comfortable stay in his house – even if it means to share his bed when the guest is in danger of freezing over. Perhaps I should lend you a book on how to be a good host and make sure that the guest enjoys his stay in your house?’

Harry snorted.

‘I wonder if perhaps I should lend you a book on how not to be an obnoxious guest and make sure that the host doesn’t throw you out of his house with nothing on but a pair of boxers.’

Scorpius didn’t reply but hummed against Harry’s shoulder.

‘What happened to using magic, anyway?’ asked Harry. ‘I would expect a fully-fledged wizard to be fully capable of casting a simple but effective charm to keep himself warm.’

‘For your information, there’s nothing more effective than body heat.’ argued Scorpius.

‘It’s summer.’ countered Harry.

‘It’s an old house. Very draughty.’ was Scorpius’s lofty reply before he snuggled closer to Harry as if to prove his point.

Harry sighed again. He couldn’t deny that he was enjoying it, if the way he relaxed into Scorpius’s embrace was any indication, but there was also no denying the fact that the bed was not the best place to start a relationship. Scorpius, meanwhile, was plastered along his body like a gigantic and arguably the most handsome leech, with no intentions of every moving unless it meant his hands and lips across the expanse of Harry’s exposed to the touch skin.

‘I hope you don’t think that you’ll change my mind by jumping me?’ asked Harry, making Scorpius scoff.

‘I was just reminiscing about good old times.’

It took Harry a moment to work out what Scorpius said.

‘What on Earth are you talking about?’ he asked incredulously.

‘Don’t you remember?’ asked Scorpius running his fingers lazily along Harry’s side. ‘It’s not our first time sharing a bed.’

He sounded very smug and despite the lulling effect of his touch the last bit of his speech finally unsettled Harry and he sat up, turning around to face a dislodged but smirking Scorpius.

‘What. Are. You. Talking. About?’ demanded Harry again. ‘We never shared a bed!’ he added scandalized.

Scorpius nodded as if he knew all the answers in the world.

‘We sure did. Of course,’ he said with a dreamy expression on his face, ‘you wouldn’t look at it quite in such a way – but a fifteen-year-old crushing on you would surely see it as that.’

Harry frowned.

‘I still don’t know what you mean.’ he said, raking his brain for a similar situation that could be referred to as bed-sharing experience.

‘You weren’t joking when you said that you were getting old. Your memory is definitely not as sharp as it used to be.’

Harry glared at him and Scorpius relented.

‘Fine. Remember when Al and I talked you into camping for a few days in a forest? No magic?’

Harry slowly nodded, still not understanding.

‘Well, those muggle tents were very uncomfortable and it got so freezing cold in the night that Al was on the point of giving up and asking you to perform a few spells to make it all snug and warm. But I had a better idea that would let us stay true to character and suggested getting into your and Allegra’s tent. I said that we would get warmer if we all huddled together. So we huddled all around you. By the way, I always wanted to ask you ever since my arm snaked around your waist for the very first time how you managed to remain so fit and toned after having two babies and no active lifestyle.’

Harry stared in shock at Scorpius and when he finally spoke he sounded as horrified as he looked.

‘Scorpius, please tell me that you didn’t cuddle with me back then so that you could grope me.’

Scorpius stared back with unrepentant glee.

‘I don’t believe you.’ said Harry, shaking his head. It was bad enough that they were having this conversation at all, but the fact that they were having this conversation in bed made it infinitely worse. Harry tugged the cover closer around himself and frowned at Scorpius. ‘You must realize how crazy – no, what am I saying? How seriously disturbing this sounds. It’s just so many shades of wrong I even can’t begin to count them! Scorpius, I don’t know. I just don’t. I feel like it’s all my fault somehow – that I’ve been sending the wrong signals. It’s like I was leading you astray from the very beginning and do you know how bad it makes me feel?’

‘Don’t give me that look.’ said Scorpius instead of giving an answer.

‘What look?’ asked Harry, confused and sidetracked.

‘The one you use on Al when he’s done something you don’t approve of. Don’t look so surprised, Harry. I know all your looks and expressions. I’ve spent years watching you and this one won’t work on me.’ and then before Harry could completely battle down the desire to shake him by the ear like an errant child, Scorpius changed tack and asked: ‘Do you know why I left for Paris?’

‘To take up painting full-time?’ suggested Harry.

‘I’m sure I could have done it here just fine, though maybe a bit less independently. Try again.’

‘I am out of ideas as much as out of patience, Scorpius, so don’t try me any further or you’ll find yourself on the end of one of my hexes. I’ve been itching to do it ever since I woke up.’

‘I left to give you time.’ said Scorpius as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘What?’

Scorpius shrugged.

‘I knew that if I made my move straight out of Hogwarts you’d freak out so I gave you time to see me in a new light – like an adult.’

‘You needn’t have bothered – I’m freaking out now.’ said Harry.

‘Does it mean that you’re not going to give it a try?’ asked Scorpius his eyes narrowed and his jaw set for a rejection.

Harry curved his mouth into a patient smile and brushed his fingers across Scorpius’s cheek. It was the first touch that he initiated ever since the change in their circumstances and that didn’t go unnoticed.

‘It means that I think that we should take things slow – and sneaking into my bed won’t quicken the pace of our relationship.’

‘See?’ said Scorpius brightening at once and looking triumphantly at Harry. ‘I knew I had to take the chance before you snatched it away from me. But I promise not to do it again without your specific invitation.’

‘Good.’ said Harry. He looked at the watch, hanging on the wall. ‘I think it’s high time we made an appearance at breakfast. You’ll need your strength today.’

‘Why? Didn’t you just tell me that you don’t want to see me anywhere near your bed?’

Harry rolled his eyes.

‘I thought you wanted me to see you as an adult not a randy teenager. You and Al are taking Allegra to a Quidditch match in a few hours – I advise you to have a nice meal.’

‘What about you?’ asked Scorpius, getting distracted as he watched Harry making his way towards the bathroom in his snug pyjama bottoms. ‘Aren’t you going with us?’

Harry stopped with his hand on the door handle and Scorpius didn’t miss the way his back tensed.

‘No. I’m having lunch…with your father.’ said Harry, wincing even before Scorpius scrambled out of bed to snarl into his ear –

‘I know the kind of lunches you have together! And you’re not going!’

Harry turned to face him, his expression cold.

‘We’re having lunch, Scorpius. Nothing more. We have to talk.’

‘I don’t want you anywhere near him.’ insisted Scorpius stubbornly.

‘Don’t you think you’re a bit too young to be ordering me around?’ asked Harry amused.

‘I’m trying to protect you.’ said Scorpius, looking him straight in the eye deadly serious.

Harry couldn’t help smiling at that. He put his hands on Scorpius’s shoulders that were too tense for comfort and said:

‘It’s really sweet and all, Scorpius, but I’ve handled your father long before you came into existence and it worked just fine.’

Scorpius sneered.

‘Yeah and the last time you handled him you ended up on his payroll.’

Harry’s arms fell to his sides like lead.

‘You know, if you keep throwing this episode in my face every time your father is mentioned, I really see no potential for the future development of our relationship.’

Scorpius winced at the coldness and hurt in Harry’s voice. He shook his head and laced their fingers together, holding on tight.

‘I’m sorry – but you have no idea how that makes me feel. Just the thought of you and him together – it makes my blood boil.’ His face contorted with the effort to hold back his rage. ‘And I just get so mad that I can’t keep it inside without saying something – anything to make it go away. I’m trying not to think about it, if I can help it, but I hate it when you talk about him.’

‘Believe me, Scorpius, it makes me feel no better.’ said Harry softly. ‘But he is your father and if you want to be a part of my life my interaction with him is unavoidable. And this is a conversation that we must have.’

He raised his head then and kissed Scorpius lightly on the lips, but before Scorpius could even begin to believe in his good fortune, Harry slipped out of his arms and into the bathroom.

Harry/Scorpius fic, part 7

farida@normaplus.com — Sun, 07 Dec 2008 19:02:12 GMT

Title: Harry Potter and Another Malfoy
Author: ethelnorthbrook
Pairings: Harry/Scorpius, Harry/Draco, mentions of Harry/Ron
Rating: NC-17 (just in case)
Word Count: 3476
Disclaimer: all characters belong to JK Rowling
Warnings: bottom!Harry, mpreg, totally screwed-up canon, epilogue, kids, jobs and relationships and mean!Ron (cause someone has to be).
Summary: Harry is the object of Scorpius Mafloy’s affection, but his life is rather complicated at the moment and fully depends on the mercy of Scorpius’s father.

Author’s Notes: We are almost there. This fic is coming to an end along with my sick leave and I think that the next part will be the last. I must say that I had lots of fun writing it and I hope that someone had great time reading it. As always feedback is greatly appreciated!

***

The manor was like something from a fairy-land: glittering gold, silver and pink against the darkening sky sprinkled with twinkling stars. As Harry, Albus and Allegra Apparated and walked down the path leading to the gates, lit by yellow-glowing lanterns, they could hear the chatter of water and the clapping of tiny but numerous wings. Within the gates, the grounds were lit by enchanted fairies fluttering around, and the fountain was overflowing with multi-coloured bubbles. Another fancy touch to the fountain were golden fish, flipping in and out of water, their eyes gleaming like precious stones. Everything was breathtaking and for a long while Harry, Al and Allegra just stood and stared, their mouths hanging open.

The illusion of added for the occasion towers and turrets, swathed in what appeared to be sparkling fog above the manor, reminded Harry of the Disney Castle and he half-expected, upon approaching the front door, to be greeted by Mickey Mouse. However, when the doors opened and Harry got the first glimpse of Malfoy on the topmost stair, he decided that if he’d worn a Mickey Mouse costume he wouldn’t look as bizarre as he looked now – wearing white tight-fitting robes with silver-green thread and a monstrosity of what Harry identified as a purple train with high collar, embroidered with peacock feathers all along its length, which was considerable. Harry was stunned. It looked like something a royalty would wear, but who did Malfoy think he was?

The inside of the manor was just as impressive as the outside. The place sparkled and the light of hundreds of candles from the chandeliers was spreading white, gold, pink and blue rays all around it. In a few hours the place was alive with music, laughter, tinkling of glasses and abuzz with more human languages than Harry ever gave Malfoy credit to know. The children took full possession of the flying carpets and zoomed back and forth at breakneck speed – Harry wondered if the carpets were rogue. He put on the strongest protection charms he could think of, seeing as how he didn’t want to find bits of Allegra in different corners of the manor and asked Astoria Malfoy to make sure that a bunch of house-elves was always nearby, their magic at the ready. She was far from pleased to be lectured on safety measures by him, but bad publicity was infinitely worse. That’s why she smiled a frozen smile and they both posed for a picture when catching a flash of the camera in their vicinity.

All the while, Harry was studiously avoiding Scorpius, who was desperately trying to catch his look or hand. Harry knew that it couldn’t last forever and when the dance floor was cleared in the middle of the room and couples poured out, Harry’s luck took off at a run when he got on the wrong end of the tide. However, he was timely saved by Scorpius, who deftly pulled him out of harm’s way and as a reward for his noble deed asked Harry for a dance. Harry pursed his lips in perfect imitation of Aunt Petunia, gave him a cold look and nodded. He didn’t say a word. So Scorpius took his hand and managed to catch his eye, which wasn’t easy, because Harry was trying hard to look anywhere but at him.

‘You look amazing. Green suits you perfectly. Though, so do other colours, of course.’ said Scorpius with what he expected was a winning smile.

‘If this is the kind of small talk that you learnt on your father’s lap, you can skip it.’ said Harry briskly, tightening his mouth, least he gave an impression that he wanted to have a friendly chat.

‘I didn’t think you’d agree to dance with me.’ remarked Scorpius.

‘I didn’t do it to please you.’ replied Harry coldly. ‘I can’t dance to save my life. I expect you’ll regret asking me soon enough. Shall we?’

They moved to join other couples on the dance floor and Harry added as an afterthought:

‘If you so much but try to twirl me – I’ll hex you back to France.’

Scorpius laughed but a stone-faced expression that Harry turned on him wiped the smile off his face.

Scorpius bent his head so that he was whispering in Harry’s ear and not sharing his thoughts with the rest of the audience and said pleadingly:

‘Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to attack you like that. I didn’t mean to sound like that.’

Harry shook his head with apparent regret.

‘I think not. I think you said exactly what you meant. I just wish I knew how you felt before and I’m truly sorry that it had come to this. I never thought that I would see the day you would act like that. I would expect such treatment from your father – never from you. I guess I forgot that when all’s said and done you’re still a Malfoy.’

Scorpius narrowed his eyes and tightened his hold on Harry.

‘Will you let me speak at least? Will you put off passing judgement on me until I have my say?’ he asked in a low, angry voice, almost growling.

‘I hardly think it’s necessary.’ said Harry stubbornly.

‘I was in a bad mood, ok?’ snapped Scorpius. ‘The Ministry wasn’t my first stop. I had already been at home before going there, but I wanted to see you. So I came but, I guess, I should have put it off until I was in a more favourable mood to see you so comfortably settled in your new role as my father’s personal assistant.’ he said venomously and Harry flinched.

‘Sorry.’ amended Scorpius quickly, wincing when Harry trod purposefully hard on his foot. ‘I had an unpleasant encounter with him, ok? He came to my room unannounced. I forgot that it was his house and not my studio, so I didn’t put any charms to stall him off. He caught me while I was unshrinking some of the paintings that I brought along.’

Harry narrowed his eyes. Something told him that he knew exactly the subject of those paintings. Scorpius confirmed it next.

‘Some of them were of you.’ He fell silent and then added. ‘Well, most of them were of you – I thought you’d like to have them. There’s also Allegra’s portrait – but don’t tell her that – it’s a surprise. I’ll give it to her on her birthday.’

Harry’s severe expression would have melted into a grin at that, if he hadn’t stopped it in time. Meanwhile, Scorpius continued with growing agitation:

‘He was looking at them and touching them, like they were his property, humming some stupid tune under his breath and I could tell that he knew. I didn’t care. I wanted him to know. I wanted to scream it at him. But I think it was more than obvious all things considered.’

Harry wasn’t sure what Scorpius meant but he guessed that it was a Malfoy thing and didn’t ask. He supposed he had an inkling, but he hoped that he was wrong.

‘It was when he was already in the doorway that he broke the silence and pointing at each of your portraits told me not to do anything irrational.’

‘And naturally it awoke your rebellious streak and you went to the Ministry to have a fight with me.’ concluded Harry.

‘It wasn’t supposed to turn into a fight! I didn’t mean to pour my anger with him out on you. I know that you had no choice. I know that at the time it was a bad time for you. I know that he as well as forced you to enter this arrangement. He told me.’

Harry stopped so abruptly that Scorpius collided into him.

‘He – what? What do you mean ‘He told you.’?’ asked Harry, his eyes going wide and his face getting hot. ‘He. Told. You?’

Scorpius nodded and steered them back into motion.

‘I went to him after the party, because I couldn’t get the two of you out of my mind. I needed to know. I asked him about it. I didn’t know what to think. He didn’t deny it. He told me that – ’

Scorpius stopped as if to think over his next words and when he continued Harry was surprised to see pink spots appear on his pale cheeks. He wondered what it could mean. What did Malfoy tell him?

‘He told me that it was just an arrangement and that he was not leaving mother and that no one could know.’

Was it all? Harry didn’t think so, not by looking at Scorpius’s guilty face. It must have been something nastier, something really humiliating. Questions exploded in Harry’s head, but he was too shocked to speak and Scorpius went on.

‘And when I saw you in that office yesterday – I just got so mad, thinking that it could be more than just an arrangement for you. What if you had feelings for him and he just used you?’

Harry laughed and looked at Scorpius as if he was a particularly cute Niffler.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Scorpius.’ he said. ‘I’m not a naïve schoolboy – I might have been fooled by your father’s benefactor image for a while, but I have long since learnt his worth. I fell for his ruse, but I’d be supremely stupid to fall for him.’

‘Good.’ said Scorpius savagely.

‘I guess I can see why it would bother you so, but I can’t see why it would make you so mad as to act in such a way towards me.’ said Harry.

‘Can’t you?’ asked Scorpius. ‘Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t know what I’m talking about, Harry. Tell me that you don’t know that I have feelings for you. Tell me that you don’t know that I was jealous. Tell me that you have no feelings for me.’ said Scorpius seriously.

Harry sighed.

‘Scorpius – it’s not possible. We can’t talk about it. It can’t be happening. I had no idea.’

Scorpius gave him a disbelieving look.

‘It’s true, Scropius!’ hissed Harry, suddenly well aware that they were in the middle of the dance floor and could be overheard by a stray guest or worse – a vigilant reporter. ‘I had no idea that you had such…intense feelings for me. When you first told me about your paintings I allowed it to be a schoolboy crush – nothing more. I had no idea about my own feelings towards you until they hit me at the Ministry – I can’t believe it still. I’m reeling. It’s just not right. I cared for you ever since you spent your first summer with us – how could I not – you were my son’s best friend. But it was never in such a way, you must believe me. I don’t know where these feelings came from and how long they’ve been there, waiting to burst in on me like that. And if I ever gave an impression or an indication that there was a chance for something like this to happen, then I am deeply sorry – it was never my intention. It would never cross my mind. I would never – ’

Scorpius shook his head and gave Harry a reassuring smile, pleased that Harry was not denying that there was something between them.

‘Your conduct was always irreproachable. I knew that I would have hard time convincing you to accept it. But I was always fascinated by you, drawn to you, attracted to you. It was just a matter of time before I made my move. I knew what I wanted for a very long time.’

Harry shook his head.

‘I can’t believe we’re actually talking about it. It’s just…wrong!’

‘Why?’ asked Scorpius arrogantly. ‘Because of our age difference? Because you are my best friend’s father? Because you went to school with my father? So what? It didn’t matter when we were friends. Why would it matter if we were to become lovers?’

Harry’s eyes went so comically wide that Scorpius was afraid they would need a shrinking charm to get them back to their original size.

‘Don’t. Say. This. Word!’ hissed Harry again and made a series of shushing noises that made Scorpius burst out laughing.

Perhaps, it was Harry’s gut talking, but the next moment they were dancing side by side with Albus and his partner, some girl Harry had never seen before. Al beamed at them and said:

‘Did he tell you, dad?’

Harry blinked.

‘Tell me what exactly?’ he asked suspiciously.

Al rolled his eyes.

‘That he’ll be staying with us, of course!’

Al said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And, in a way, it was.

‘What?’ yelped Harry.

Scorpius smiled sweetly.

‘Al invited me and I couldn’t say no. It’s been too long since I spent summer with you and I miss those times. Not to mention, that I’d rather stay with people who actually value my privacy and don’t snoop around my belongings.’

Al grimaced and cast a disgusted look at Draco Malfoy, who was once again posing in front of the cameras.

‘Of course you do.’ said Harry, not buying it in the least. ‘Well, your old room is at your disposal.’ he said with a sigh. He couldn’t really turn him out of his house now after all these years and Al would hardly understand his sudden unwillingness to have Scorpius around. And it was really cowardly. It’s not like he was afraid of Scorpius. ‘We haven’t redecorated in a while so you are free to change it in any way you see fit. Just make sure you stay in your room.’ he added so that only Scorpius could hear him, to which Scorpius smirked and said: ‘I’ll do my best but, alas, I can’t really promise anything – my memory has been going bad lately.’

Soon after that, there was no more one-on-one talking for a long while, because the whole space was completely monopolised by the birthday boy and Harry thought he would gag just looking at him. ‘And he called me an attention-seeking prat at Hogwarts? The bastard!’ thought Harry amidst the clapping and the clinking of glasses around him. When the speech-time was finally over and Harry was dying for some fresh air and less Malfoy, they were all invited outside to enjoy the fireworks.

But fireworks – no matter how loud and impressive – could not distract Harry from an avalanche of his thoughts or drown the wild beating of his heart. He wandered off away from the crowd all the while thinking if it was all his doing somehow, however unintentional, because such intense feelings didn’t just come out of nowhere. Was it his fault? He hoped not. Could he pinpoint the exact moment when Scorpius could look upon him and decide that he was a potential lover?

Of course, he knew that Scorpius was interested in him. After all, he was a legend. And, naturally, he attributed it to innocent curiosity of someone who was familiar with his story of triumph over the dark wizard of all times. But did he know that there was something more behind that incessant curiosity? Was he just trying not to see it? Was he thinking that it would pass without a trace one day?

And what about his own feelings? When did he start looking at Scorpius like at an adult? But it wasn’t all that difficult, because Scorpius was always more grown-up than his age and they always interacted like equals. Harry never tried to treat Scorpius like a child or a son. They were friends, for a lack of a better word. But was he programming himself to become more one day? He didn’t think so. He wasn’t that devious. But he was that desperate for someone to love him, adore him, worship him. And it seemed that Scorpius took it upon himself to do just that.

It must have been his fault. As long as he knew Scorpius, he always compared him with Malfoy. He always looked at Scorpius as someone different, someone better and rejoiced every time Scorpius defied his father in any, even the smallest of ways. Was he, somehow, unknowingly, turning Scorpius into someone who would suit him one day? However ridiculous that thought sounded even in his own head, it could very well be the truth. Harry was also bothered by Malfoy’s comment to Scorpius about not doing anything irrational. Did he know how Scorpius felt? Did he know what he intended to do about it? Did Harry have to prepare himself for a confrontation? What could he possibly tell Malfoy that would justify him? He couldn’t even justify himself to himself!

Harry was now deep within the grounds, taking lungfuls of air and not really looking where he was going, because going felt good. However, he was soon startled out of his thoughts when someone drew him gently by the elbow. Harry didn’t have to turn around to know who it was but he did, anyway, because it was either that or running away. Here, the place was illuminated only by the moon but she must have been tipsy, because she was constantly getting lost within the woolly clouds and every now and then Scorpius’s face was going in and out of focus.

‘Don’t tell me that a piece of cake with my father’s face on it wouldn’t make it down your throat.’ asked Scorpius smiling.

Harry snorted.

‘I think I have more than my share stuffed down my throat every day as it is.’ he said.

They stood in silence for a while. Surprisingly, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt good. Really good. They were occasionally catching each other’s eye and Harry felt as ridiculous as if it was his first date ever. Then, Scorpius suggested to take their silence to a sheltered by a tight ring of tall trees spot nearby, that could be seen only to those who knew that it was there. It was a very convenient spot indeed and Harry wasn’t playing stupid. If he knew anything about Scorpius, he knew that Scorpius was not about to resume their conversation but that he would start taking action. The question was if Harry was prepared to take their relationship in that direction. He knew that it was wrong, but he also knew that a part of him was craving it. He never felt quite like this before but in a way it was reminiscent of how he and Ron got together. It didn’t happen overnight but gradually wound itself around them like Devil’s Snare so that in the end it was really hard to miss it.

Scorpius didn’t make him wait long.

‘I want to kiss you.’ he said without preamble and Harry rolled his eyes.

‘Yeah, I kind of figured it from the way you’ve been staring at me.’

‘Will you say yes?’ asked Scorpius.

‘Will you take no for an answer?’ asked Harry and shook his head at once. ‘Thought not. But you should know, Scorpius, that a kiss won’t change a thing.’

Scorpius raised his eyebrows as if asking ‘Won’t it?’ and Harry let out a put-upon sigh.

‘I mean it will change everything but not in the way you think. I won’t be able to look at you the same way again. I won’t be able to talk to you without thinking about the kiss. But it won’t change my mind. I still think that it is impossible and wrong. I have to think it. I have to remind myself that I can’t let it happen and if I set my mind I usually keep to it.’

‘I’m afraid, Harry, that I’ve been waiting so long that your mind is the last thing I care about right now.’ said Scorpius before meeting Harry’s lips.

It was soft and gentle and thorough but it didn’t resemble a conquest that Harry was expecting it to be when catching sight of Scorpius’s determined face and set jaw. He was expecting force and possession and pain and clashing of teeth, but it was slow, cautious and coaxing and with that touch of passion that didn’t burn you to a crisp but kept you alive and pleasantly warm and happy and wanting more.

Harry knew that he should have put up more of a fight, that he should have taken time to investigate what was happening and maybe, even, find a way to put a stop to it – but in his heart he wanted it to happen and letting go of rational thought he gave into temptation, which was the only true way to deal with one. He was instantly swept away, engulfed by that enormous, unbelievable sensation, exploding like fireworks in his chest.

Kissing Ron never felt like this. Kissing Malfoy didn’t even come close.

TBC…