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[fic] A Cracked Smile and a Silent Shout (Scorpius/Al/Draco, NC-17, nextgendarkfest repost)
In honor of Halloween, I present... a darkfic! Written for nextgendarkfest way back in what, June? July? But not crossposted to my journal until now for whatever reason. :P

But before the fic, a bonus feature...

THE CREATIVE PROCESS, A DRAMATIZATION
Nothing that looks like a direct quote is a direct quote. Some details may be fudged, since my memory = 0.

Snarkyscorp & Nolagal: We might need pinch hitters for our fest!
Me: Oooo pick me pick me!
Snarky & Nola: [a while later] Actually we don't, everyone is awesome.
Me: Aw, crud. :(
Snarky & Nola: But do you still want to write anyway?
Me: DUH!
Snarky: Okay awesome, just write anything. Really. Anything. Readysetgo!
Me: Whee! *outlines madly*
Me: *emails mods* Okay, I'm doing Lorcan/Lysander/Scorpius at Malfoy Manor and there will be MADNESS and SEX SLAVES and VIOLENT DEATH and it will be AWESOME, y/y?
Snarky: Er, must you? I mean yes, of course that will be awesome. >_>
Me: [a week later] Um actually that was a stupid idea, now they'll be at Hogwarts and there will be 50% less madness and 200% more twincesty angst, mkay?
Snarky: *wipes sweatdrop from brow* Yes, do this one. :D
Me: [a week later] Um actually my L/L/S bunny just crawled into a corner and died. Help?
Snarky: Oh, fine. Here have some prompts. *gives prompts*
Me: I like not these prompts!!! D:
Snarky: Fest!! Soon!!!!
Me: AAAAUGH I KNOWWWW.
Me: *outlines even madderly*
My brain: Albus/Scorpius Albus/Scorpius Albus/Scorpius
Me:Seriously? BUT THIS IS NOT A RARE PAIR D: D:
My brain: ALBUS/SCORPIUS ALBUS/SCORPIUS ALBUS/SCORPIUS ALBUS/SCORPIUS ALBUS/SCORPIUS
Me: *complains to everyone who will listen*
Redsnake & Other!Sarah: This kind of sucks, but you can fix it like this this and this *works magic*
Me: ZOUNDS, YOU'RE RIGHT! *loves*
Me: [a week later] Huh, maybe I should start writing that thing which is due in a couple days.
Me: Redsnake this still kind of sucks it has too much of teh crack in it!!! D:
Redsnake: *is awesome* *fixes it more*
Me: *writes crazy fast*
5 AM: Boo
Me: Eep!
6 AM: BOOOO
Me: Aaaugh D:
7 AM: BOOOOOOOO!!!
Me: *claws eyes out*
Me: *sends fic to Other!Sarah for rehabilitation*
Me: Take THAT, 8 AM. *passes out*
Other!Sarah: *reveals secret identity as Stupendous!Beta*
Me: [hours later] *wakes up*
Me: *awe*
Me: *edits*
Me: Other!Sarah, how much do you love meeeeee?
Other!Sarah: I'm actually a superhero, so of course I'll beta this again. :D
Me: *flails* I WILL GIVE YOU BABIES OKAY.
Me: *skims fic*
Me: [to Julian] Does this actually even make any sense?
Julian: Sort of maybe, except for here and here and here.
Me: *whines, complains, edits, etc*
Snarky: WHERE IS OUR FIC BETCH.
Me: Meep! Here! *sends* It ended up still having MADNESS and VIOLENT DEATHS and also ANGST, aren't you excited???
Snarky & Nola: Maybe? Here, have a cookie.
Me: Om nom nom cookie om nom nom ur fest is awesome nom nom. :D
The fest: *is awesome*

So that's basically how it went down. I still haven't read the whole thing through. I mean, I tried. Really. At least once. Maybe it was just too intense to get into any deeper than I had to, or maybe I was just too tired, or maybe I just fail at proofing long fic myself. (Most likely scenario.) And now I'm hesitant to read it through because everyone seemed to like it so much, and I might see things I want to change, and inadvertently screw it up. :P Is it really weird not to like reading your own fic, even if you love the same kind of fic when other people write it? IDEK. I'll probably read it in a few months, once the worst danger of retro-editing has passed, and I can just appreciate it as a whole.

This whole creative process thing still confounds me - like, obviously whatever I did here ended up working pretty well, but I'd like to, oh, maybe, figure out how to do this sort of thing without the aid of 5, 6, and 7 AM and a lead-in of several solid weeks of writer's block. Because that would be nice. I think.

And also, officially and for the record, many many thanks to snarkyscorp and nolagal for letting me gatecrash their fest, to redsnake05, icanhaspancake, and juliandahling for all their handholding and brainstorming and whatnot at all stages of this which helped immensely, and to icanhaspancake for being super!beta. I <3 you all so much!!

Title: A Cracked Smile and a Silent Shout
Rating: NC-17
Word Count:6000
Pairing(s): Albus Severus/Scorpius, implied Draco/Albus Severus, and Draco/Scorpius
Warnings: Violence, character death, potions use, coercion, incest, implied chan, non-con, MEAN DRACO. DRACO IS MEAN. IF YOU LIKE HIM YOU MIGHT BE SAD.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Scorpius had only started giving Al the potion as a way to get the ball rolling, but now he doesn't dare stop, not when Al could so easily slip out of Scorpius's arms and into Draco's.
Author's Notes: I owe many firstborn babies to my fabulous betas icanhaspancake and juliandahling. MANY. I shall go and start collecting them now. Title and quoted lyrics taken from Silent Shout by The Knife.

If I explain it once thoroughly
He'll have you later 'cause it's never free
You were at the gigantic spree
I caught a glimpse now it haunts me

The fumes rising from the cauldron mingled with the dank air of the dungeons, making the underground laboratory hazy and stifling. The wood of the bench Scorpius was leaning on was coarse under the heels of his hands. He picked at a loose splinter of wood in it, detaching it inch by inch from the bench as one ingredient after another was added to the simmering cauldron.

Soon the potion would be complete.

Scorpius worried the piece of wood apart from the bench and fingered the splinter, slim and dagger-sharp. Once, he took a breath with the intention to speak, but something about the broad line of his father's shoulders and the close atmosphere of the lab stifled his words. This was the first time since he'd started at Hogwarts that he'd been in such close quarters with his father, alone, and for so long; Scorpius was near to crawling out of his skin with nerves. Not that he had anything to be nervous about, he reminded himself for the thousandth time. That was all in the past.

The steam rose from the cauldron in lazy curlicues; Scorpius watched it and turned the splinter over in his hands faster and faster until, finally, it was too much.

"Father, are you sure this is even legal?"

Draco set his stirring rod in its holder and turned toward Scorpius; a lesser man might have sighed. "Do you want Albus to fall in love with you or not, Scorpius?"

"I do, but—"

"There is no 'but'. Do you want him to come to you, hunger in his eyes? Do you want to see him spread out on your sheets below you, warm and ready and chanting your name? This is the way."

"Yes, father." In the cage of Scorpius's hands, the sliver of wood spun faster still.

Draco turned back to the cauldron; a sprig of rosemary, an incantation, and a baker's dozen stirs, and it was done.

Draco capped the vial and handed it to his son. "Such a great effort should not go unrewarded. Bring the boy to my rooms tonight—you may stay or go, as you wish."

Scorpius pocketed the vial, letting the splinter fall to the floor. This was new. Even in the thick of things, there had been punishments, lessons, but Draco had never demanded anything from Scorpius as a payment. Nor had he ever been given a choice.

"You wish to... with him?" Scorpius managed to get out.

"What I wish to do with him is my own business," Draco said. "One night with me, and the rest of eternity with you. It is a small price, I think."

"A small price," Scorpius echoed. The mere thought of Draco touching his Al was enough to turn Scorpius's stomach. One night only, though – Scorpius would have time enough and plenty to erase Draco's taint from Al's flesh.

"And Scorpius?" Draco said.

Scorpius hesitated, hand on the door. "Yes?"

"For a Malfoy, there is no question of legal or illegal – only convenience."

***

It was the work of a moment to tip the potion into the Gryffindor's morning pumpkin juice. Scorpius lingered for a few minutes to ask about the upcoming test in their shared Divinations class, but that exhausted his only excuse for being there that their cordial acquaintance allowed.

"See you later then," Scorpius said, unable to stop his eyes from traveling over Al's clothed body, imagining what it would be like to touch... But Draco had said the potion would take some hours to take effect, and that Al would come to him when he was ready.

"Yeah, see you in class." Al grinned, seemingly unaffected by Scorpius's gaze. "Don't study too hard, now." Al turned to help one of his younger cousins with something, and Scorpius went back to his own table, unable to keep his eyes off the young man.

Al didn't come to Scorpius until after dinner; enough time to let a thousand doubts rise up and drive Scorpius half mad with worry. What if Al hadn't drunk from his cup after Scorpius had dosed it? What if he had, but the potion didn't work? What if Draco had sabotaged the potion, and Al had been drawn to Draco instead, and was in his chambers even now, being made to submit to his own perverted desires?

Finally, though, footsteps echoed down the hall, and Scorpius cautiously peeked out of the empty classroom on the sixth floor that Al had caught him reading in on more than one occasion.

"Thank goodness I found you here," Al said, his eyes fixed on Scorpius as he stepped through the door. "I've looked everywhere else I could think of."

There seemed to be some kind of nervous energy thrumming under Al's skin and he only had eyes for Scorpius. All Scorpius could do was drink the sight in, afraid that speaking might break the spell.

"I have something to tell you," Al said.

"Yeah?" Scorpius felt like his heart had risen to his throat, choking his words.

"Yeah." Al walked toward Scorpius and only stopped when he was well within arm's reach. Scorpius clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "The thing is, I think I sort of fancy you. Silly, isn't it?"

Scorpius managed half a smile. The proximity of the other boy was already overwhelming; he hadn't even done anything yet, and already this was more than Scorpius had gotten from him in all their six years of school together. The whisper of Al's breath across his cheek, the scent of it sweeter than he'd imagined; the fractured color of his eyes, not green at all when seen this close, but a million colors together; the quick rise and fall of his chest—each impression took up its own moment, and for an endless string of moments Scorpius couldn't focus on more than one thing at once; it all refused to come together into one thing, into Al.

"God, Scorpius, if you don't kiss me now I think I'll—"

That broke it; all the moments collapsed into one and it was just Al, standing in front of Scorpius and wanting him. Scorpius took Al's face in his hands, careful to memorize the jut of his cheekbones and the curl of his hair, and, slowly, kissed him.

The way Al kissed him back was perfection, as if he anticipated Scorpius's every need – first slow and soft, now more hurried, a flurry of smaller kisses, now slow again. Scorpius needed it to be as if they had all the time in the world, because the thought of Draco waiting in his rooms was too much, and Al got that.

All too soon, it was time, and Scorpius regretfully pulled away. There was a question in Al's eyes, but he followed without asking it as Scorpius took his hand and led him through the empty halls to his father's chambers. For a moment outside the door, Scorpius wasn't sure whether he'd follow Al inside or not – he'd expressly avoided picturing this part of things, and he had no plan. Then he heard his father's tread on the rich carpet inside, and knew he could not; not even for the sake of knowing what devious tortures – or worse, seductions – Al would go through in there. The gap in his knowledge would gnaw at him later; he could already feel it; but the alternative was unthinkable.

"I'll come back for you," he said, and hastily kissed Al on the cheek, then walked down the hall. He heard the door creak open before he'd rounded the corner, and forced himself not to look back to see if Al was still looking at him, or if his father had seen him taking the coward's route.

***

Al looked no different when Scorpius came to collect him in the morning; he smiled softly and greeted Scorpius with his name as if he were truly happy to see him. Scorpius just set his mouth in a line and took Al to his own room, where he stripped him behind heavy green curtains; checked him for marks. There were none.

"Did –" Scorpius started, needing to know, Did he touch you?

"Mm?" Al asked, twisting so he could see over his shoulder.

"Did you sleep?" Scorpius amended, and then, "Never mind, you can rest in my bed if you're still tired." Somehow he couldn't stand to hear the proof out of Al's own mouth; he had passed up his only opportunity to know these things.

"Will you stay with me?" Al asked. He tugged Scorpius down with him, and Scorpius was powerless to resist. He spent two entire class periods in the empty dorm behind the heavy curtains, holding Al as he breathed easily and not daring to slip into sleep himself. Al was Scorpius's now, and Scorpius would spend all the time that was necessary to erase every invisible mark left from him.

***

In the days that followed, Scorpius strove to put the ill-fated beginning of their relationship out of his mind. Though he watched Albus closely, there was never any indication that he was troubled by any of what had passed behind that closed door, nor that he even remembered it. Perhaps – it was too much to hope for, but Scorpius grew to believe it nevertheless as the days slid by – perhaps Draco had Obliviated the boy after using him. Perhaps he really was Scorpius's alone.

Scorpius had intended to take things slowly, let whatever now lay between them unfold naturally, but an unexpected hindrance came from Al himself.

"We should go now," Scorpius had said regretfully as Al stretched and blinked himself awake.

"Go?" Al asked. "Don't you want me?"

"'Course I do," said Scorpius.

"Then let's stay," he'd said simply, clutching at Scorpius's hands.

"I can't." Scorpius gripped Al's hands back despite himself. "We've already missed the whole morning's worth of classes, and your friends won't have seen you since last night. It's time to go back."

Al looked crestfallen. "How do I know you're not just saying that?"

"Meet me in the abandoned classroom on the sixth floor tonight," Scorpius said. "You know it?"

"Yes." Al's look was relieved, grateful even. Scorpius had instructed him to tell his friends some lie about his whereabouts; they might not understand if he told them about Scorpius right away, and Al agreed eagerly.

Once they'd met again in the classroom, Scorpius had been powerless to resist; all his ideas about drawing this out and taking it slow had crumbled into dust at Al's strained mumbles of want you so much and oh, Scorpius.

The dusty slate of the chalkboard was cool against Scorpius's back as he allowed Al to push him against it, and between the questing hands and mouth and the hungry look in Al's half-closed eyes, he nearly forgot that it wasn't supposed to be this way.

"I love you," Al said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Scorpius could only return the sentiment much later, after they had subsided into a sticky heap on the cold stone floor, poorly cushioned by the layer of clothing that had dropped there before them.

"Me too," he whispered. It was wildly out of context and Al could have no way of knowing what he was talking about, but he wrapped his arms around him tighter anyway.

***

Scorpius grew bolder as the days melted into weeks and Al's ardor showed no sign of abating, nor his friends any sign of suspicion. Scorpius continued to dose him daily with a drop from the tiny vial, as per Draco's instructions, but it was more of a precaution than anything. Just in case. He avoided thinking just in case of what.

By the time Scorpius realized that the past handful of days had been the happiest of his life, it was too late to cling to them.

"What does your father do all day?" Al asked, on their way to the library from Wednesday's double Potions class. They were holding hands, something which had, right up until Al spoke, been making Scorpius enormously happy. This was surely the best benefit of having allowed Al to finally tell his friends about Scorpius, right up there with no longer having to find ridiculous excuses to sneak away to spend time with each other.

Scorpius involuntarily jerked his hand out of Al's grip. "My father? What does he have to do with anything?"

Al glanced at him with a look of concern. Scorpius tried to school his features into a neutral expression. Al let out the tiniest of exasperated sighs. "Nothing, I was just curious. Besides Professor Longbottom he's the only professor I know who has a family – and Neville doesn't even live here full-time."

"Oh," said Scorpius, trying not to let his relief show too much either. "He marks papers, I guess. Reads the papers, brews stuff. He and my mum don't really talk that much when we're home over the summer, either."

"Mm," Al said, leaving it there.

Scorpius was on alert after that, try as he might to quash his overactive imagination. Everything Al did now was potential evidence one way or the other, and as much as Scorpius tried to tell himself that his lover wasn't developing an interest in his father, that it was all in his head, the idea wouldn't leave him alone.

He started to see the little things, like the way Al's gaze would linger on the head table more often than Scorpius's own at meals. There was no reason at all for him to do that, unless –

And then, one day, Al stayed behind after Potions – I've just got to ask a question about our essay really quick, no need to wait, I'll catch up – and he'd only been five minutes, really, but what if it wasn't about the essay?

Scorpius's terse replies the few times Al had brought up Draco in conversation seemed to have scared him off from mentioning him again. Scorpius now wished he'd controlled himself better; who knew how many more times Al would have talked about him, but was now keeping it to himself. Al wasn't supposed to keep anything from Scorpius.

Desperate, Scorpius tried increasing the dose to two drops a day, but after two days of this, it became nearly impossible to keep Al off him in public, so he had to stop.

Their usually tender lovemaking had grown heated of late. Scorpius was torn between anger at the boy for making him second-guess every tiny little thing, making him feel this way, and a helpless need to cling all the tighter before the unimaginable occurred. He'd fuck Al hard and fast, hardly caring what damage he might cause, and just as quickly the rage would drain away and hot tears would burn his eyes, because this could be the last time, and he was doing it like this? Then he would fall on top of Al, limbs entwining and nails raising thick gouges on his back as he tried to pull him closer. Toward Scorpius, away from Draco. And Al was always up for it, would always take whatever Scorpius gave, take each needy thrust and pull, each paranoid slap or bite, each terrified suffocating embrace, as if each were a revelation.

The signs of Al's nascent betrayal didn't go away over time, but neither did they grow worse. Scorpius grew half-used to Al staring at Draco over meals and in class; trained himself not to hear the places his father's name was conspicuously absent from conversation. He blamed himself. He could have stayed with Al and given him the reassurance he badly needed on that first morning; he could have not left Al alone outside Draco's door when they could have gone in together. But those opportunities were long past, and all he could do now was play a desperate catch-up.

***

Scorpius had originally planned on weaning Al off the potion once this vial was gone. It had only ever been meant as a way to get the ball rolling; give Scorpius a head start since conventional methods were getting him nowhere. Once they'd been together for so long, Al would surely be able to see that they were meant to be without the potion's aid.

But now it was far too great a risk. Ease up on the potion, and Al may well go flying straight from Scorpius's arms to Draco's. Just a little more time was all he needed, and a little distance. Soon the term would be over and Al would go home for the summer; without seeing Draco every day, the older man's nefarious influences would soon fade.

One more batch of the potion would buy Scorpius all the time he needed.

The vial he'd been using was quickly emptying; Scorpius judged he had only two or three days left before he would have to go to his father for more. Soon, he told himself, but not just yet. Any delay in returning to that place would have been a welcome one, except that to delay meant risking Al.

On the day he slipped the last half-drop into Al's morning cup of tea, Scorpius kept him back from his morning class. He led him down to the deserted Slytherin dorm instead, taking circuitous routes through narrow, little-used passages. Al followed mutely, though his gaze blatantly lingered on the door to Draco's quarters when they chanced to pass it. Scorpius jerked Al's hand and he looked away.

They made it to Scorpius's dorm without anyone seeing them, and Scorpius locked and warded the door behind them before racing Al to the bed.

Neither of the boys went to any of their classes that day.

Scorpius spent the entire morning and all of the afternoon committing Al to memory; his body, all the ways he moved and responded and begged. Whenever thoughts of the future crept in, he reached for Al again; Al wasn't the only one who begged that day. He pushed as hard as he could against the creeping fog of doubt that threatened to overtake what they had here – what if after tomorrow, Al was never the same? What if Scorpius wasn't?

***

The slanting shadows left by the bluish light filtering in through the high window marked the passage of the hours. All too soon the shadows spread and blended until they were no more, leaving the whole room swimming in a flat inky blue murk that collapsed distance and obscured everything but the white glow of Al's naked skin, punctuated in all the places both important and unimportant with marks from Scorpius's mouth and hands. Scorpius knew without looking that he must be in no better condition.

They stole another half hour, until darkness had truly fallen outside and Scorpius ran out of excuses to delay.

"It'll be supper time now," Scorpius said. "We should eat."

"I'm not hungry." Al nuzzled further into the crook of Scorpius's arm.

"Me neither," said Scorpius

They got up anyway, put on their clothes and got accustomed to standing on two legs again.

Scorpius kissed Al softly on the lips before they walked out the door. "I love you," he said.

"Love you too," Al said, melting into the kiss.

Scorpius trailed his fingers along the back of Al's neck, but didn't deepen the kiss.

"Meet me in the entrance hall before breakfast?" Scorpius asked. "We can eat together if you like."

"Okay," said Al.

They snuck out of the Slytherin common room together, only having to duck into an alcove once to avoid the Charms professor whose class they'd both been absent from. Al squeezed Scorpius's hand and smiled a little when they parted ways in the Great Hall; Scorpius followed him with his eyes all the way to Gryffindor table, where he sat among his fellows but stared off into space as he ate. Scorpius had no appetite; he made an excuse and slipped away from the table before the meal was half over.

He was waiting outside the door to his father's quarters when Draco got there.

***

"What is it, Scorpius?" Draco asked as soon as he had let Scorpius in.

Scorpius held up the empty potion vial. "I need more."

Draco tutted. "So soon? I'd have thought this batch would have lasted another week at least."

Scorpius remained silent, not trusting himself to speak.

"Actually, I was half expecting you not to need a second batch at all. Something go wrong?" Draco asked.

"Just brew it," Scorpius said, and Draco tutted again.

"I thought you'd outgrown these little moods, Scorpius." But he took the vial and swept into the adjoining lab.

Scorpius glared at his back and followed his father into the small room. He settled himself against the same unused bench as last time as his father began to gather ingredients, now more than ever not trusting Draco not to tamper with it somehow if left alone.

The idea, once lodged in his head, wouldn't leave. "Did you do something to the potion last time?" he asked, finally. "Something to make Al be attracted to you, not me?"

"Now why would you say that?" Draco asked.

Scorpius maintained a stony silence which he knew Draco would eventually fill. The man liked hearing himself speak too much.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before Draco answered his own question. "Ah, so you've seen the way he looks at me, too."

Scorpius was boiling inside; he set his mouth in a grim line and tried to hold in the rage that bubbled up when Draco looked up and smiled softly.

"I didn't alter the potion, Scorpius."

From where Scorpius was sitting it looked like his eye flashed with some smug secret for a moment, but it could have been a trick of the thin screen of steam now floating up from the surface of the potion. Scorpius scowled and looked away, and neither of them spoke for a while. The steam changed from white to pale green, then back to white, and Scorpius picked distractedly at the wood of the bench. He thought of Al, probably asleep in his bed by now, unaware of the last traces of potion fading out of his system. By the time he woke up it would probably have worn off entirely. Would he even want to meet Scorpius for breakfast in the morning? Scorpius cursed the cowardice that had made him hold off on coming to Draco until it was almost too late, but at the same time he knew that if he made it through tonight unscathed, starting all over with Al would be no great hardship.

"Does he remember?" Scorpius asked.

The sudden words seemed to startle Draco out of a sort of reverie; his knife jerked and ruined the section of root he was cutting. He tossed it away and set his knife down.

"Does who remember what?" Draco asked, dusting his hands off on his apron.

"You know what I'm talking about," Scorpius said, glaring at Draco's chin for fear he would falter if he had to look him in the eye. There was only one thing on Scorpius's mind right now, and it revolved around Al, and potions, and their payment. "Al. Does he remember anything?"

Draco smiled, slow and sly. "Not unless I want him to."

The unnamable thing seething inside Scorpius hissed and boiled over. "You fucker," he spat. "What makes you think you can just use people like that and toss them aside? They're not things for you to play with. We're people."

"Now, now, Scorpius," Draco said, his voice silky with an edge of danger.

"No! Listen to me!" Scorpius shouted. "I'm asking you a question! Just look at yourself, just look – and how can you do it, really?" Scorpius knew he was mostly incoherent, but the rage burning through him felt clean, so clean; it felt something like power.

"How can you?" Draco asked in a low voice, all danger now. He rounded the bench he'd been working at, leaving the space of only a few short footsteps between him and Scorpius.

"The potion," Scorpius warned, gesturing with numb fingers to the neglected cauldron.

"It needs to rest unattended for three hours now; surely you remember," Draco said. "And I asked you a question. Surely you are no stranger with taking your pleasure from who you wish. I'm not brewing this potion for myself, after all."

"You – you –" Scorpius spluttered. "How dare you. I love Albus."

"Yet you would not hesitate to use artificial means to compel him." Draco's smile was predatory, his eyes weighted slits that bored into Scorpius, and Scorpius hated him. "We're not that different, you and I," he said, and stepping forward, placed a heavy hand on Scorpius's arm.

"Don't touch me!" Scorpius screamed and jerked away. He had come in here prepared to offer anything if only Draco wouldn't lay a hand on Al again, but rage in his veins had betrayed him and turned to terror. It had only taken one casual touch to remind him that his father's hands were made of poison – to submit to more was unthinkable. With shaking breaths, Scorpius carefully pushed it out of his head. He eased himself off the bench he'd half-climbed onto, and faced Draco.

"Just brew," he choked out.

Draco raised a single eyebrow as if at once entertained by the display and disappointed in how Scorpius had forgotten his lessons of control, but turned back to the workbench wordlessly and resumed chopping ingredients.

Scorpius didn't take his eye off him at all in the next three hours, and neither of them spoke. Scorpius slid is wand out of his sleeve and turned it over and over behind his back. The repetition and the feel of silken wood – power – beneath his fingers calmed his ragged breathing.

After a seeming eternity, Draco resumed stirring and adding things to the potion, and Scorpius let his wand still, focusing instead on the way the air in the room was growing incrementally more humid, the way the scent of the potion seeped into the old walls that echoed back their dank memory of a thousand years, a hundred thousand potions created in this close space.

"It's done," Draco said, drying the stirring rod on a cloth. Scorpius tensed. "Am I to receive a payment?" He came around to face Scorpius again, leaning against the opposite bench and looking completely at ease.

Worn as thin as a thread, Scorpius couldn't stand it. He had spent this whole time going back over the last weeks trying to find some flaw, some reason it had all gone wrong, tearing himself apart, and Draco could just stand there... "The potion," Scorpius said, needing to know. "Did you alter it? Did you do anything to Al –"

The glimmer from before returned to Draco's eye. "It was never a love potion," he said, a wicked grin spreading over his face. "It simply lowers one's inhibitions in regards to certain strong emotions, and makes the drinker more open to mild suggestion. I trust it was sufficient to your purposes?"

"I told you to brew a fucking love potion," was all Scorpius could manage.

"And since when is your agenda the same as mine? This way, you could have your fun, and once the novelty wore off, I could have mine." He shrugged one shoulder. "For what it's worth, you were never to have known."

Scorpius felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. Once the novelty –

"There's still the matter of payment," Draco said. "Love potion or not, the work involved was still the same."

"You don't deserve a payment," Scorpius said. "You bastard. First you took from me, then Al – it's you who owe me, not the other way around."

Draco growled low in his throat and swooped down on Scorpius, faster than Scorpius could react. A hand was twisting in Scorpius's hair and pushing him down. His knees made a dull clack as they hit the stone floor. "Someone's forgotten everything I worked so hard to teach him," Draco hissed, the hot breath in Scorpius's ear making bile rise in his throat. "Remember all the things I used to tell you I'd do to you once you got big enough?"

He jerked back Scorpius's head and Scorpius saw that while Draco was talking he'd worked open the buttons on his robe from the waist down. Scorpius's stomach dropped into his feet. Not again, not now, it was supposed to be over, he thought wildly, but his body betrayed him, suddenly remembering all the lessons he'd fought so hard to forget, and he remained stone still. Scorpius felt the pain in his scalp and knees as though they belonged to someone else; the terror surged up in him again, white and hollow and sharp, and it was not clean at all.

"Remember those things we only ever talked about? Now's the time you learn them, boy." Draco yanked Scorpius's head nearer to his exposed crotch, and Scorpius retched. "You'll want to get it nice and wet," Draco said.

For a moment Scorpius's vision turned to snow, and in the next moment he remembered he still clutched his wand behind his back. One curse alone sprung onto the fear-polished slate of his mind, and as his jaw was forced open and his breath cut off by the cock shoved down his throat, he silently screamed its name, his wand arm arcing around as if it carried an invisible spear.

Iron-smelling warmth hit Scorpius's closed eyes and flowed down his face. Draco gasped out what might have been Scorpius's name as he staggered back. He hit the floor like a marionette whose strings were cut; Scorpius heard the sickening thud as he rose and wiped his eyes.

Draco scrabbled weakly to pick himself up, but he sprawled out again, the floor already slippery from the blood that flowed from the bone-deep gash on his thigh.

"Scorpius..."

Scorpius stared at him coldly, all the emotion of the past few hours suddenly drained out of him. He felt as if he were made out of lead.

"Top shelf – bloodwort – hurry, boy!" Draco's voice was edged with panic. "Would you let me die?"

Scorpius's silence was answer enough.

When Draco tried to get back up again, Scorpius put the heel of his boot on his chest and pushed him back down.

Blood was pooling on the floor in the cracks between the flags; it flowed out of Draco's wound freely, and when he moved, it spurted. Scorpius hadn't known blood could do that. There couldn't be that much more left in him to lose.

Draco's lips were turning blue, but they smirked nevertheless. "You can't just let me die."

"It's surprising what people can do," Scorpius said, and then didn't speak again.

There was no dramatic gasping and choking once the blood finally ran out; Scorpius preferred it this way. Draco fixed him with frantic eyes, breathed out, and then breathed in no more.

Scorpius didn't know how long he just stood there, frozen. Maybe by not moving he could avoid hearing the voice in his head that roared What have you done? first dully, then louder, over and over. It was only when he finally bent, stiff, to close Draco's eyes, that he saw Al standing at the door of the lab. It took Scorpius a minute to figure out that Al was real, and not just a vision.

"How did you get in here?" he asked, stupidly.

"I dunno," Al said. "I just tried the door, and it let me in." His eyes slid to the body on the floor as if drawn by some force. "We should call someone," he said.

"It's too late." Scorpius's voice sounded hollow and odd even to himself. He didn't feel nearly as free as he'd always imagined he'd feel in this moment.

Al opened his mouth to speak, but Scorpius cut him off. "He's not important anymore."

Al forced his eyes away from Draco's body with apparent effort; with the inevitability of a nightmare, they fell on the cauldron instead. Scorpius watched the emotions flit across his face with dull detachment. There was no hope for the thing now.

"It's not a love potion, but it's as good as," he said.

Al's face registered recognition; he would have realized in a moment even if Scorpius hadn't said anything. "Have you been giving that to me... the whole time?"

"It was his fault," Scorpius said, toeing one of Draco's skewed arms.

Al's face twisted. "Don't do that."

"Don't do that? Do you know what he did?" Scorpius demanded. "He was using you – us. Gave me this potion to give you; thought that once my 'crush' had run its course he could put you to his own sick uses."

Al stepped over to Draco's body and peered into his white face. He looked at Scorpius.

"Do you love me?" asked Scorpius, abruptly. His wand felt sticky in his hand; he flexed his fingers and realized he couldn't let go. "Or do you love him?"

"You!" Al burst out, immediately. "Not him. He was just... interesting, maybe. How can I know now, though?" His eyes met Scorpius's in an open challenge.

Scorpius's eyes flitted over to the cooling cauldron. "It should be out of your system by now; I only gave you a half dose yesterday. Your feelings are your own. Tell me!" He found himself pointing his wand at Al, and didn't lower it. The terror that was supposed to have died with his father was back – he couldn't lose Al, not now.

"Scorpius!" Al held out his hands. "Slow down! I don't know, okay? I need to get used to this, take some time to sort out my feelings –"

"I killed him, Al. We can't stay here." His wand arm was shaking; with effort he steadied it. A drop of sweat stung his eye. "Tell me now."

When Al hesitated, Scorpius turned his shaking wand on himself. "Tell me."

Al cried out and started toward Scorpius, then seemed to think better of it. His words tripped over each other in their hurry to leave his mouth. "I just don't know you, you've got to believe me – I want to see where this goes, but I don't – how can I trust what came before, you know? We need time, you can't just –"

Scorpius heard boots in the corridor outside; they sounded heavy. It could be the Aurors, it could be anyone. They would come and see him there, covered in blood, they would take him away from Al –

"We don't have time," Scorpius bit out. "Now."

Al's eyes were outlined in white, they flicked between Scorpius's wand and the body on the floor. "Put the wand down, Scorpius, you're starting to freak me out! I really like you, okay? And I do want to be with you – just not –"

Scorpius had been lead, now he was a tornado inside, whirling out of control: the boots were almost there, his hand was shaking, Al was stuttering; nothing was in his control. "'Really like' isn't good enough, Al; I fucking loved you." He pointed the wand and pushed the spell into the front of his fractured conscience – this one thing he could do, this one thing –

The last thing he saw before his vision went black was Al rushing toward him, the flash of a wand being drawn. There was pressure at his throat – funny, he couldn't even feel the wound, but he could feel the pressure – Al was chanting Scorpius's name; again and again; static rushed up and filled Scorpius's ears and then he heard no more.

Distantly, he felt something warm, on his chest maybe, and then there was nothing.