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Shedding Old Skins	By : WillGirl Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Albus Severus/Scorpius Views: 5165 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter novels (or movies), nor the characters contained therin. All rights remain with JKR. No monetary reconpense is gained from the writing of this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes.

Chapter List
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Draco Malfoy was in the informal sitting room, reading, when his son came in. Scorpius was trailed, as usual, by Albus Potter. That had been odd at first, and awkward for everyone (most especially for Draco) but he had gradually adjusted to the idea of having a Potter in the house, and anyway, Albus was nothing like his father had been; or nothing like the Harry that Draco had known, at least.

Albus was a perfectly pleasant child, a little bit shy at first but he’d soon opened up, and now it would be odd to imagine having Scorpius home without the gangly, mop-haired boy at his side. They’d been inseparable since their first year, the two children, and Albus had featured in Scorpius’s letters more predominantly than Hogwarts itself. By the time they’d actually met on the platform at King’s Cross, Draco had felt like he’d all but known the boy already.

Which had not, of course, made things any less awkward for the two families of the unlikely friends, but Draco had at least been able to take some pleasure in the fact that Potter, clearly, had found the whole situation even more disturbing than he had.

Albus, it seemed, wasn’t much of a letter writer, and so the Potters had received most of their reports of the boys’ friendship second-hand from Albus’s other family members at the school, while Draco and Astoria had gotten ream upon ream of parchment from their own giddily-verbose son.

It had still been difficult for the boys to convince their respective parents to let them see one another over the holidays, especially so for Albus. The Potters had been extraordinarily reluctant to allow their son to visit his new friend. Less so Draco, who knew that, whatever his personal feelings towards Potter were (mostly a mixture of guilt, resentment, and shame), his son would certainly be safe with him. Potter no doubt still went out of his way to rescue stray kittens from trees, so no harm would come to his precious Scorpius while he was in the absurdly heroic man’s care, Draco was certain.

Besides, Scorpius had asked him, and Draco could no more refuse his son anything he wanted than he could scrub his left arm clean.

Fortunately Harry and Ginny Potter seemed little better equipped to refuse their own offspring, and although their reluctance had been insultingly obvious (although Draco did not take much offense; he felt it perfectly justified, considering his past) they had eventually capitulated to Albus’s quiet pleading, and the boys had spent the better part of the summer together. The same had been true of every break thereafter, although more and more it had been the Malfoys’ home they had frequented, rather than the Potters’.

Albus had some issues with his extensive family, Draco knew. He wasn’t unkind enough to pry, but Albus had told both he and Astoria enough—and told Scorpius more, no doubt—for Draco to understand that the shy boy was self-conscious around his Gryffindor-centric family, and he felt awkward and out-of-place in their cacophonous company. (Draco sincerely doubted there was any reason for this beyond the usual, exaggerated drama of artificial teenage distress, but if Albus wanted to believe that his house-status made a difference to his family, then Draco Malfoy certainly wasn’t going to be able to convince him otherwise.)

He’d simply made it very clear to Albus that he was always welcome in their home, at any time of day or night, and that the Malfoys would never press him for reasons or details. An argument with his parents, a fight with his brother, noisy cousins, too many practical jokes from his uncles, or utterly imaginary angst—it made no difference to Draco what Albus was running away from; he could always come here to find his solace. It would have been the least Draco could do anyway, even if Albus’s company hadn’t made his own dear son so obviously happy. And Draco would do anything to make Scorpius happy. He would have made the offer even if he’d disliked Albus, for Scorpius’s sake, but as it was, he found the boy charming and would have been more than happy to have Albus around solely on his own merits.

So when Albus followed Scorpius into the room Draco looked up and smiled easily at them both. They clearly had something they wanted to ask him, so Draco marked the spot in his book with the attached ribbon and set it aside.

Draco wondered if it would be Potions or Quidditch this time, or something else altogether. The Malfoys’ house contained a very well-stocked brewing room because both Draco and Scorpius enjoyed dabbling with Potions, and the wide lawns held a nearly-regulation Quidditch pitch for the same reason. The two children spent most of their time in one or the other location, and the existence of said room and pitch were often the excuse that Albus gave his parents for explanation as to why he and Scorpius preferred to spend their time at the Malfoys’ home. It wasn’t even a lie; it was merely, in the grand tradition of Slytherin House, a partial truth couched in beneficially misleading terms.

“What can I do for you, boys?” Draco asked.

Scorpius and Albus exchanged nervous glances. Draco bit back a smirk. Whatever it was, this was clearly going to be good. Probably somewhat illegal, from the way they were shuffling back and forth so anxiously. (Draco had to admit that part of him took indecent joy in helping Harry Potter’s son fiddle with illicit potions and unapproved magics.)

“We…there was something we wanted to…I need to talk to you, father.”

Draco’s expression faded into seriousness and he sat up attentively. Scorpius appeared genuinely worried. “What is it, my boy?” he asked gently.

Scorpius looked at Albus, who gave him an encouraging nod despite his own obvious discomfort. Scorpius took a deep breath and turned back to face his father. He visibly marshaled his resources and said, his face so pale that Draco feared that the boy might be about to faint, “Father, Albus and I are…we’re dating. Sir.” Scorpius dropped his gaze very quickly, looking down at the floor.

“And what is it?” said Draco.

“I, I don’t understand,” Scorpius stammered, peeking up hesitantly at his father through his eyelashes. “I told you, we’re…we’re together. As a couple. That’s what it...that.” He looked down again, trembling.

“Yes,” said Draco. “And?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, something’s clearly got you distressed.”

“I just…I thought you’d have…something more to say,” Scorpius said quietly. He looked pained. Albus’s hand edged closer to the paler boy’s side, as if he wanted to hold Scorpius’s hand but was afraid to.

“What am I supposed to say?” Draco asked, genuinely confused and starting to worry. Scorpius was clearly in distress and if he didn’t know why, he could do nothing to fix it. “Tell me what’s happened, won’t you?”

“We…we…” Scorpius turned to Albus, wide-eyed and helpless. Albus did take his hand then, squeezing it comfortingly, although he looked no more capable of offering any sort of reassurance to anyone than did Scorpius himself right then.

“We sort of fell in love, I guess, sir,” Albus said quietly.

“Is that what has you both so upset?” Draco asked.

Scorpius nodded.

“I don’t understand why,” said Draco. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, happy?”

“Happy?” Scorpius echoed, incredulous. “Is that…is that what you think?”

“Well, yes,” said Draco, bewildered. “Mutual affection growing into genuine feeling? I’d think that would make you both happy, yes…so what’s gone wrong?”

The boys’ faces were studies in mutual misery. Scorpius chewed his lip, a childhood habit he’d mostly outgrown; an indication that he didn’t know what to say.

Understanding finally dawned, and Draco couldn’t help but laugh. Albus flinched and Scorpius visibly stiffened.

“Oh, Merlin…is that what you came here to tell me?” Draco asked. “Come here, son,” he said, waving Scorpius over to the couch. Albus trailed behind the other boy, their fingers parting only reluctantly as Scorpius sat down, trepidatiously, next to his father. Draco put his arm around his son and hugged him. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I had no idea you thought you were telling me something I didn’t know.”

They both gaped at him. “You—you knew?” Scorpius stammered. “How…?”

“How did I figure it out? It really wasn’t hard. You two were a bit obvious about your feelings, honestly. How long have I known?” Draco continued. He shrugged. “Well, I’ve suspected as much for ages, but it was only after your match with Ravenclaw at the end of last year—when that Bludger took Albus off his broom?—that I knew for sure. The look on your face…” He stroked his stunned son’s pale hair comfortingly. “Not to mention the way your captain had to physically drag you back onto your broom while they took Albus up to hospital,” he added with a teasing grin.

“You…but…we weren’t…”

“We weren’t together then,” Albus clarified. “We didn’t even know we…I mean, I didn’t even know I was bent, then, let alone that I fancied Scor.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up in surprised. “Really?” he asked. He looked at Scorpius in surprise. “You as well?”

Scorpius shook his head. “Not an inkling,” he said very quietly.

Draco failed to restrain a snicker. “Sorry,” he said. “I just would have sworn you…” He shook his head. “So when did you two, you know, get together, then?”

“Two months ago,” Scorpius replied.

“And one week. Well, almost a week,” Albus added.

Draco had the distinct impression that if Scorpius hadn’t been so tense right now, he’d have rolled his eyes at his friend’s—no, at his boyfriend’s—pedanticity.

“I see,” said Draco. He fought to suppress his amusement. “And this was meant to be your, what, your confession to me?”

Both boys nodded. Draco hugged his son then beckoned for Albus to join them on the couch. Albus hesitated a moment, then gingerly sat down on Draco’s other side. He relaxed with a relieved sigh when Draco wrapped his other arm around the dark-haired boy’s thin shoulders.

“Now, tell me,” said Draco, “are we all right? Not on the brink of bursting into tears any more, I hope?”

They both shook their heads. “No, father,” Scorpius said. His voice was slightly muffled because he was still pressed to Draco’s side.

“Good,” said Draco. “I quite disapprove of anything that makes you cry, you know, my dear boy.”

Scorpius laughed weakly. “Yes,” he said, “I know.”

“Although,” said Draco, only partially kidding, “I have to admit, I am a bit hurt.”

“Hurt, father?”

“Yes,” he frowned. “You thought I didn’t know, you said?”

“No, sir, we had no idea,” Albus told him.

“But you waited two months and, what was it, almost a week to tell me? Because you thought I would…?”

“I was afraid you would be…upset,” Scorpius said delicately.

“Upset?”

“That I was, well…with Albus?” Scorpius spoke tentatively, twisting his fingers together in his lap.

“Well, I’ll admit that it’s certainly going to make for some awkward moments,” Draco said, grinning. “But I can’t see it being much different from how things were already, honestly. We’ve all had to adjust already, the Potters and Weasleys and I, to the idea of the two of you being friends at all, so I’m sure we’ll manage as we have before. The important thing is that you be happy—the both of you.”

“You really don’t mind, then?” Scorpius asked, his voice quiet.

“Mind?” said Draco. “What would I mind?”

“That…” Scorpius sighed. “That your only son is gay?”

“Is my only son happy?” Draco asked.

“Yes,” Scorpius admitted.

“Then no,” said Draco, “I don’t mind.”

Scorpius sagged with relief. Draco held him close and stroked his hair, like he was still a child who was having trouble sleeping. He squeezed Albus’s shoulder and got a grateful, watery smile in response.

“I’m…I’m glad you don’t hate me,” Albus said quietly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco said immediately. “What could I possibly hate you for when you obviously make my Scorpius so happy?”

Both boys blushed at that but Albus managed a proper grin.

“So,” Draco asked slyly, “what was the plan?”

“The plan?” said Albus, his innocent confusion fooling no one.

“Please,” the elder Malfoy drawled. “If you were worried about how I was going to take the news, you surely wouldn’t have approached me without a few contingencies. Not clever Slytherins such as yourselves, I don’t think.”

Scorpius shrugged. “Well…perhaps not,” he admitted.

Draco smirked. “So what was the plan, then?”

“Well,” Scorpius said slowly, “if you had, um…been upset…”

“You know, like if you’d forbidden us to see each other, or something?” Albus chimed in.

Draco snorted. “I would have to be rather stupid to even try, no?” he asked. “Besides, I don’t know if Astoria and I could handle having Scorpius here for a whole summer’s vacation without you around these days, Albus,” he added, grinning.

Albus grinned back. “Good,” he said, “because I’d hate to not be here.”

Draco hugged him. “Well, you don’t ever have to worry about that,” he said. Then he turned mockingly severe. “So long as you don’t break my son’s heart, now,” he threatened the other boy.

Albus’s smile widened. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said cheerfully. “I’d never hurt Scor; I love him too much.”

Draco beamed and Scorpius rolled his eyes at the both of them. “Anyway,” he drawled, “the plan in that case would have been to go to Albus’s house, confess that you’d disowned me without saying exactly why, and—”

“I would never!” Draco exclaimed, clutching his son.

“Yes, I can see that,” Scorpius said, his voice muffled in his father’s shirt.

“Never,” Draco said again, vehemently. “There is nothing you could do, ever, nothing. You have to understand that, Scorpius. You’re my son, I love you, and nothing will change that. Nothing.”

“Yes,” Scorpius mumbled, “yes, all right. I get it, dad, thank you. Anyway, did you want to hear this or not?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Draco relaxed enough to let his son sit up again, although he did not take his arms from around him. “Please continue.”

“Well,” said Albus, “we’d have gone to my mum and dad, told them Scor had gotten, you know, kicked out or whatever, and counted on the fact that they, well…”

“Sort of despise me?” Draco offered.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Albus admitted with a sheepish smile. “So we figured they would be, you know, happy to show you up, right?”

“Right,” agreed Draco, smirking.

“Besides, a kid with no home to go to? Dad would bloody melt.”

Draco snorted. “Right,” he said again.

“Also,” Scorpius added, “we thought it would be easier to, well, to hide our…relationship from them, than it would be from you and mother.”

“Two other siblings, dad working all hours, mum’s crazy travel for interviews,” Albus ticked the points off on his fingers as he spoke, “not to mention the multitude of cousins and uncles and aunts…should be enough chaos, we figured, that they wouldn’t notice. Or that was the plan, anyway.”

“That’s why we chose to tell you first,” Scorpius explained. “If it went well—which it has, yes, thank you,” he silenced his father. “If it went well, then we would tell Albus’s parents also—which we will now, yes—but if it hadn’t, then…well, then we figured it would be best to not risk telling them, as they were to be our fall-back.”

Draco nodded. “That seems logical,” he said. “Aside from, of course, the obvious fallacy of assuming you’d need such a stratagem in the first place.” He nudged the boys next to him, his expression melodramatically chiding.

Albus laughed. Scorpius just rolled his eyes again. “Yes, father,” he said, half-smirking, “we understand. You already knew, you’re happy for us, thank you. We were foolish to worry. Stop rubbing it in.”

Draco chuckled. “All right, all right, I’m done,” he promised. “In fact, I think I’ll go do something terribly important elsewhere, so you two can celebrate that your little confession went so well.” He stood up and kissed the top of his son’s head, then ruffled Albus’s hair. “You’ll stay the evening, won’t you?” he asked Albus. “Since you don’t need to resort to your contingency plans? You can put off re-enacting this little scene at your house until tomorrow at least, can’t you, and spend the night here instead?”

Albus nodded.

“Splendid,” said Draco, beaming at them both. “I think a celebratory dinner will be in order, especially once your mother discovers she was right.”

“Mother knew?” Scorpius exclaimed.

“Of course,” said Draco. “What do you think we gossip about when you’re off at school, anyway?” he asked, winking at them.

Scorpius clucked his tongue in exasperation and rolled his eyes yet again; Albus just laughed. “I should have figured…” Scorpius muttered.

“Yes, you should have,” Draco agreed cheerfully. “Oh, and before you ask? Astoria adores Albus, and will be nothing but thrilled to have our suspicions about the two of you confirmed—probably ear-piercingly excited, actually,” Draco said, faking a wince. “You should probably brace yourselves now for all the gleeful shrieking. I may be forced to resort to a silencing charm for the sake of preserving my hearing...don’t know if it will be any help, but...” He shrugged.

“You’re hilarious,” Scorpius said dryly.

“Your boyfriend thinks I am,” Draco pointed out smugly.

“Well, he has terrible taste,” Scorpius retorted, “present company excepted of course.”

Albus snorted. “I’m not so sure about that last part,” he teased with a grin.

Scorpius stuck his tongue out.

Draco chuckled, squeezed his son’s shoulder affectionately, and took his leave. He figured the two boys had a great deal to discuss, and a great deal more to say without any words at all. He couldn’t restrain a smirk.

Even if it was disturbing to think that his son wanted to snog someone who looked so much like Harry Potter. Draco grimaced and resolutely put that image out of his mind. He’d better hurry up and adjust to the concept, though; now that Scorpius was finally being honest about his feelings, he would probably start being openly affectionate with Albus, and the last thing Draco wanted to do was risk having his son think that his avowed acceptance of their relationship was less than genuine. It was genuine; it just came with disturbing visual parallels.

But Draco adored Albus, and he knew that the boy made his son happy, and that was, to Draco Malfoy, literally the most important thing in the world.

No matter how awkward it might be for him, personally.
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