Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Set the World on Fire	By : jessebarbieheart Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Albus Severus/Scorpius Views: 3701 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of her delicious characters. Though I wish I could, I will never make proffit from this lovely fic. Nor do I own the rights to Fun's song "We Are Young".

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
A/N: First of all, there was a delay to this chapter due to my bout with food poisoning. But I am alright now and here it is! Warnings for some...controversial content. And the song is "Fix You" by Coldplay. Enjoy lovelies!

Again, Albus was only able to find solace if he lying on a bed of silk. He holed up in the same room as last time, lifeless by appearance. If one were to watch long enough, though, they would see that every once in a while he drew in a small breath of air. He was also awake this time. The drama of a fake coma was too much to muster. He simply didn't have the energy or capacity of mind. What he settled for, instead, was a simple state of mindlessness.

He had lost the ability to want to live.

The death of his father had shaken him beyond the point of recognition. And after watching Draco Malfoy perish not long after, he had retreated to this room almost unthinkingly. His feet had carried him back to this bed, the only safe place left in this house. The solace of it, somehow, wasn't enough though. He had to retreat into the corners of his mind still to escape the reality that surrounded him.

Harry Potter was dead.

His father was dead.

And it was entirely his fault.

Never had he felt guiltier in his life. Tears weren't even enough to show the depth of the chasm forming in his heart. So he didn't even try. All he could do was lay there, curled up close to himself. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't speak. The urge to get up and use the bathroom was a feeling he turned off. Which was an easy thing to do. All over, he felt numb.

The only thing he had to actually fight was the urge to sleep. Every time his lids felt heavy, he began to panic. But he couldn't stop it. His body and his soul were weary. He needed the relief of sleep. But whenever he would give in to the blackness, it would absolutely consume him. He would be sucked into the very depression that was taking over his whole being. Through these nightmares, he would relive Harry's death in a million different ways. From his point of view, through Draco's eyes, in front of Hogwarts, in his childhood home. Every possible different situation ran through his mind and he would wake up screaming every time.

Except he couldn't vocalize these shouts. He would open his mouth and nothing would come out. It was like he was in his own silent, lethargic hell. A hell plagued with vivid memories and frightened shivers. It was cold, dark, unwelcoming, and endless.

By the end of the second day, Albus had decided to kill himself.

It seemed to be the only way to escape everything wrong with his life. To end it. If only he could muster up the vitality to move, he could end everything once and for all. He could be rejoined with his father in whatever the afterlife held. The afterlife was filled with a slew of brave, amazing people. People he had never had the chance to meet due to the two previous wars. If he died, he could see everyone. He could finally meet the men and women from his parents' stories.

Lily and James Potter, his paternal grandparents who gave everything to save their son's life. Remus and Nymphadora Lupin, Teddys brave and loving parents. Sirius Black, his father's trusting and reliable godfather. His own namesakes – Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape, men who were so devoted to vanquishing You-Know-Who that they gave everything they had to the cause. And all of the others who died along the way. The ones everyone talked about with such admiration. Would it be so bad to die if he could see them all?

But the willpower never came to him. He couldn't force himself to sit up, even. The only attempt he could make on his own life was to hold his breath. He would stop breathing for nearly a minute, feeling the burning in his lungs as they craved oxygen. Somehow, though, he couldn't keep it. He gave in every time to his body's needs. He couldn't make himself die no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe he didn't really want to kill himself, deep down.

It was just that he felt so hopeless and comatose, yet so vividly awake at the same time. He wanted to feel something different than pain. He wanted to be happy again. He wanted the remorse to disappear completely.

He didn't want to have to face his family again after what had happened.

Surely, they were all going to blame him. They had already started before the attack. What was there to stop then now? Now there was proof. They could outwardly point fingers at him for the death of Harry. He was there and he didn't stop it. It was his lover of sorts that did the slaughtering. That all circled around so the liability fell with him. No doubt they would have him hang for it, one way or another.

"And here we are again." Albus didn't turn, didn't move to look who was in the room. The disturbing to his thoughts was easy to pick out by voice alone. Scorpius had finally come to see him after three, four days. He'd been waiting for it, honestly. Was surprised that it hadn't happened sooner. "You're hiding from me again, aren't you Albus?"

There was something lacking in Scorpius' voice this time. He spoke with much less confidence. His tone was hollow and empty. And as he sat upon the edge of the bed, there was no grace to him. He was heavy and hard, the furthest thing from himself.

Albus didn't move an inch, though. He recognized the difference, but it wasn't enough to shake him quite yet.

"Don't do this to me again, Albus! I know you're awake in there! Your goddamn eyes are open! You can't hide from me again." Al felt the sharp sting of a slap against his cheek. It startled him enough to flinch. This was the first time he'd felt anything besides anguish and detachment since that morning. His eyes welled with tears for the first time since being here. "You need to get your ass out of this bed! Wallowing here in your own self-fucking-pity will do you no good!

"Those feelings you have coursing through you right now? You need to use them to your advantage, Albus," Scorpius continued in a hoarse whisper to his ear. He was no more than an inch away, glaring down at him. Al could feel it and it sent an uncomfortable tremor down his spine. "You're angry, you're frustrated. You want vengeance. But the vengeance you want isn't against me or the Dark Lord. Look deep within yourself. You'll realize that who you're most angry with is those who allowed that to happen to your father. No one had his back. No one was there to protect him. You're young. How could you have been expected to be the only one to help him? The great Harry Potter didn't even have his so-called friends there to save him from things he could no longer handle. It's their fault not yours.

"So who are you really angry with?"

There was no way Albus could deny what Scorpius was saying. He was, indeed, furious. And he felt betrayed that this man he supposedly loved would do something so vile. But there was truth to this, as well. His father's family and friends were so lack in their safety for Harry. No one else was there with him through the night. Why did his barely-graduated son have to be the one to comfort him as he worried over the missing presence of someone he loved so dearly?

Slowly, Al blinked and stretched his neck to the side. An irritated vein was beginning to twitch within it and he set his jaw in a squared line. It took him a good, long moment, but he began to sit up and turn towards Scorpius. They wore matching expressions – ones of indignation fueled by the empty pit that used to be their heart. Somehow, both found solace in the fact that they shared something. They had both lost a father four days ago. Even if neither of them could say it out loud, they were hurting deep inside.

"Go eat something before you waste away to nothing," Scorpius put a wall up over his emotions, his face becoming a mask. His fear of being vulnerable was more than obvious.

With a slow nod that lacked any semblance of feelings, Albus turned and stood out of the bed. He stripped down out of his cousin's clothes without a single thought and crossed to the wardrobe. All of his things were where he had left them when Draco had taken him away. He pulled a new set of clothing out, breathing in his own scent mixed with the mustiness Scorpius' added to the mix. It smelt like...something new. Something he could start to call home.

He needed a place to call home now.

After pulling on his trousers, Albus forced his arms through the holes of a button-down shirt. But that was all he could make himself to do. He stared down at the buttons, wishing they would put themselves through the loops. He wasn't sure if he was able to do it himself. And then a pair of strong, pale hands was upon them, closing up his shirt for him. A grateful smile pooled in his eyes but couldn't reach his lips as he stared forward at Scorpius. "Thank you," he whispered quietly, his first words since his father's death.

"Don't thank me. Just be stronger. Weakness will be preyed upon in the sort of company you'll find here. Don't let someone take advantage of your emotions." Scorpius finished with the last button and straightened Albus' collar. "Now, food. Eat until you're full." With that, he turned on his heel and strode from the room.

Albus' tired feet attempted to follow and keep pace with him. But Scorpius was much faster. He was able to make it down the hall and up the stairs to an undisclosed location before Al had made it past their doorframe. He frowned softly, then sighed and headed for downstairs. He could smell amazing things cooking in the kitchen before he'd even reached the last step. His nose carried him to the door and inside before he could even contemplate what he was doing. He was just so hungry.

For a moment, the three elves in the kitchen merely stared at Albus. But soon they were rushing around, setting out large platters of food on the counters. They made suggestions as to what was best and what he must try. He watched them all bustle over him, frowning a bit. He would think they would all be afraid of him; afraid of everyone in this house. But they went about as if things were so normal.

His questions were all answered as the littlest house elf, Snivy, looked up at him in admiration while pouring his pumpkin juice. He remembered the night that he and Scorpius had their date. The good, early parts of the night. He remembered how Scorpius had hurt the poor creature. How he had mended his arm. Slowly, he smiled at the elf child and uttered a quiet thank you. Snivy ran off, back to the other two who he assumed were the parents, giggling and beaming.

Though his stomach was in knots full of anger, hate, hurt, confusion, and despair, Albus took a plate full of everything offered. With such kindness, he felt it rude to dismiss anything. The house elves were so...sweet. It was just the kind of compassion he needed to be able to forget his troubles. If it were that easy...

He ate until he was full, just as he was told. But it was hard to determine just what that was. He felt so unbelievably empty to begin with. Food wasn't quite the right thing to fill that hole. With every swallow, he could just feel himself growing heavier. There was a difference between being full and satisfied. The latter was harder to come by.

As he finished eating, the elder male house elf took his plate and cleaned up around him. He had been aware that Snivy had left, and when the little one returned he held fresh bandages. The stench of his arm became all too real as he looked down at it. When he moved, pain coursed up all the way to his shoulder. He hissed, tearing off the soiled wrappings quickly. Underneath laid a festering mess of puss and blood. It made him physically sick to look at it.

The youngling, however, had no problem with it. The small creature took its time to do things right, carefully peeling off the old dressings and cleaning the gash down the length of Albus' arm. It didn't flinch once at the smell and was absolutely gentle throughout. Once the wound was rewrapped, Snivy stepped back and bowed gently at the man.

Albus smiled softly and stood, patting the little elf's head. "Thank you... Thank you very much."

"Anything for Master Potter," the female said softly, placing a hand on her child's shoulder. "And Master Potter...Snivy, Winky, and Fenner are sorry for Master Potter. They're sorry for his father."

A sharp pain shot through his heart and he had to place his hand on the back of a chair to steady himself. All he could manage was a nod before walking out of the room, away from the reminder of his ache.

But as soon as he began to ascend the stairs, he realized he had nowhere to go. He couldn't find solace in this place. No matter where he turned, there would always be something to show him glimpses of what terrified him most. He whimpered softly and ran up the stairs quicker. His feet carried him back to the familiarity of the bedroom and into the soft feel of the sheets. Tears were streaming down his cheeks before he could stop them. He felt weak. Tired and weak and hopeless. Helpless.

Man up...

Albus swallowed hard, sitting up and staring down at the floor. Subconsciously, he knew he was acting quite pathetic. They were in the middle of a war and all he could do was lie in bed and weep? What was he, a preteen girl?

Somewhere not too far off, he became aware that a shower was running. Slowly, he looked up towards the bathroom connected to this room by a single door. He wiped away his tears as if they were nothing before standing and crossing to the door. Muffled sounds of anguish crossed to him along the trails of steam. "Scorpius...?" he probed gently and pushed the door open.

The sounds ceased almost immediately. Through the thin curtain, Albus could see a lithe figure facing the spigot. He had one hand braced against the wall, shoulder-length hair hanging haphazardly in his face. The man didn't speak or make any recognition of the other's presence. He was quiet and still.

"You're crying," Al noticed softly, lowering himself upon the closed lid of the toilet.

For a long moment, Scorpius said nothing. But he must have given up trying to put up a front. He sighed deeply, slamming his fist against the tile of the shower. "You are not the only one who has lost a father...," he muttered, words nearly drowned out by the water beating down upon him.

Despite his best efforts, Albus couldn't hold his tongue. His fists clenched at his sides and he growled low, "You killed my father. In essence, you killed your father, as well. How dare you mourn his death!"

The laugh that passed Scorpius' lips was haunting. He slowly raised his head, turning to look in the other man's general direction. "How dare I? He was my father, Albus." Again, he turned his head down, breath escaping him with grief. "I may not have been the perfect son, but I would be a fool to ignore his passing. Especially as it wasn't something I was expecting..."

"You had to have known! Draco was expendable to your precious Lord! You were just too blind to see it. You're ignorant and selfish! And because of you, you've crushed the heart of someone you supposedly care for. Me." Albus was on his feet before he'd even realized it. Anger was boiling his blood, bringing him more bravery than he ever knew he had.

"I. Know."

Al's face screwed up in confusion. He took a step back from the tub. The level of caring that laced those two words caught him completely off guard. It was more feeling than the man had truly ever shown. They left him wanting to ask more questions; wanting more truth. But he found he had nothing to say. He was stunned into absolute silence.

"I regret what I have done. But it had to be done, Albus. I didn't have a choice. Never have a choice..." Scorpius straightened up behind the curtain, running his fingers through the drenched locks upon his head. "You and I were both raised a certain way. You were raised to be your father. I was raised...to be everything my father couldn't be."

For some reason, Albus felt his heart going out towards the blonde. He felt sorry for him, but it made no sense. This man had killed his father, tortured him, abused him, used him. And yet here he was with an ounce of pity stirring in his heart. It was that feeling that made him stay and even take a step back towards the shower.

"You could've had a choice. There's always a choice, Scorpius..." Gently, Al pulled back the curtain, looking fully upon the pale, naked body before him. He found it hard to swallow and struggled to meet the silver, lifeless eyes instead of wandering over soaked skin. "You just...have to have the judgment...to make the right choice..."

For a moment, the air was still but for the water dripping down steadily on Scorpius' head. He blinked at Albus softly; beads of what could have been tears sliding down his cheeks. Green was hooked onto silver, occasionally straying down to light pink. In the end, it was the blonde who made the first move. He reached forward, tangling his fingers in the mussed dark locks and jamming their lips together.

Albus attempted to struggle, but the grip was too tight. He whined softly, gripping at the shower curtain and causing it to come crashing to the floor along with the rod. Scorpius was unperturbed. He pulled Al closer, dragging him into the tub and under the warm spray. His lips moved down to the man's neck, biting and suckling like a hungry animal.

"S-Scor-"

"Shh," Scorpius muttered against the wet skin under his lips and reached up to cover Albus' mouth with his free, strong hand.

But Albus couldn't keep quiet. Not as Scorpius' fingers wandered downwards. He could feel the button of his trousers being popped and couldn't help but to struggle. Nearly screaming against his restraint, he attempted to push him away. This was too fast, too harsh. He wasn't ready for this but it didn't seem Scorpius was remotely willing to stop.

At this point, something inside of Albus broke. He gave up. A part of him detached from the rest and he tuned out what was happening. Under different circumstances, he was sure he wouldn't have had to. But this wasn't right. There was something off and evil about it. Just as he had done by going into a 'coma' after Tom's resurrection, he checked out of reality completely to avoid it.

When Scorpius forced him up against the wall, his sopping wet pants around his ankles, he stared limply at the tile before him. He could hear the gentle words being whispered in his ear, but ignored them because he couldn't bear to hear it all. He didn't want to know that Scorpius loved him any ounce as he was touching him in that way. As he was forcing himself upon him.

He didn't even wince as the first finger slid up inside of him. The only signs that he'd felt it were the slight curl of his fingers upon the shower wall and the gentle, involuntary hardening of his prick. The second finger, however, invoked a more real reaction. The pain was almost too much. He couldn't keep removed from something so real. He doubled over a bit, biting his lip and letting a groan escape despite his best efforts.

"The pain will pass," Scorpius breathed gently in his ear, contrasting the burning sensation at Albus' entrance strangely.

There were a million protests that Albus so badly wanted to scream out. He wanted to be able to tell Scorpius to stop. Some part of him didn't allow the words to come out, though. Some sadistic part.

After a few stretches to the delicate ring of skin, Scorpius added yet another finger. This time, Albus struggled to remove the intrusion. He reached back, grabbing ahold of the man's strong arm and tried to push him back. "Albus, relax," Scorpius hissed, pushing him back up against the wall of the shower. "You're only going to hurt yourself..." As much as Al tried to wriggle away from the fingers they just kept moving and stretching him out.

Tears were in his eyes, but he almost felt relieved when the digits were removed. Scorpius' grip on his didn't lessen at all, however. If anything, he held him down harder. There was a fearful anticipation settling into Albus' bones in the seconds between assaults. He knew what was coming. The wait for it was worse than anything he could ever imagine physically feeling.

"Try and relax," Scorpius whispered, pressing his cock up against Albus' prepped entrance. "And...say you love me..." He began entering inch by agonizing inch. "Because I love you, Albus..."

Albus couldn't speak; much less utter those fragile words. All that he could muster was the effort it took to attempt to ease the tension in his muscles. It did help to mask the sting just a little bit. And he couldn't deny the feelings of pleasure and warmth prickling every inch of his skin.

It was still a bad idea. But he couldn't escape the thought that it wasn't...all bad. It hurt. Scorpius was a Dark man. He hadn't given his permission. Yet...he rather liked the feeling of being so full of something so sinful. So full of something. And when Scorpius pulled back out just a bit, he dragged along a part of Albus that caused him to moan his name without restraint.

"Close enough," Scorpius said softly, pressing a kiss to Al's slick back.

From that point on, Albus forgot everything he had been afraid of. He made a specific point not to tune this experience out. It felt rather beautiful once he gave in to it. His loud sounds of absolute bliss attested to that. He couldn't resist getting into the rhythm of Scorpius' thrusts, meeting him in a harsh unison that had both of their cocks weeping in no time.

The swells of passion had a limit, though. There were only so many minutes they could be so wonderfully intimate without a conclusion. Scorpius couldn't even give a warning, it came on so fast. Albus was even further filled by his lover's hot seed, causing him to spread his own upon the tile of the shower wall. Breathing erratic, his head fell back against Scorpius' shoulder in defeat.

No longer could he question it. Albus was fully committed to this man, even if he had no idea why. He found he couldn't run, couldn't detach from Scorpius no how hard he tried. He had ample opportunity as the shower was switched off and they walked back towards their bed. Though they were sopping wet, they crawled in under the silk sheets together.

Scorpius felt secure. He felt safe.

The arms around Albus were more than he felt he could ask for at the moment. This man may have been the whole reason his father was dead. But somehow the universe wanted him to get past that.

There was something bigger in store for them, he could just sense it.

"Shortly before my third year of school...my father took me to Diagon Alley. It was just us. He bought me all of my school things; the finest money could buy. And he was determined that I make the Slytherin Quidditch team, so he bought me the newest, best broom. It was the best time I had ever had with him. I think it was because Mother wasn't around. We even went for ice cream afterwards instead of dinner. He said it would be our secret..." Scorpius pressed his lips softly to Albus' forehead, ignoring the glistening beads of sadness upon his cheeks. "It made me think about what my mother and I were doing. About all the secrets we were keeping from him. I went home and told Mother that I wanted nothing more to do with this plan. I didn't want to lie to Father anymore. That was the first time I ever felt the Cruciatus Curse. She didn't let up when I screamed. She didn't let up when I passed out. She wanted me to know that...I had no say. I had no choice. And she was right. I don't. I never will.

"My fate is not determined by me."

Albus frowned, tucking his head closely into Scorpius' chest. If anyone knew anything about choices, it was surely him. He was making a big choice right now by staying at Scorpius' side, his father's murderer. He wrapped his arms tighter around Scorpius and whispered softly, "You always have a choice, Scorpius. Don't let your dead mother boss you around anymore. My dead father won't influence anything I do any longer." He kissed the man's chest gently and closed his tired eyes. "But there was one thing he said I think we need to listen to..."

"What's that?" Scorpius said lazily, almost sounding bored.

"You can't be Tom's bitch anymore. You're stronger than him."

A/N: I'd really like to know what you thought! Leave me a review, please!

I am also offering email updates for this fic. If you are interested, leave your email address in your review and I will email you when I get another chapter up.
- 11
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Set the World on Fire