Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Scorpius stumbled on his way out of the floo. He didn’t ordinarily find the Potters’ fireplace difficult to maneuver, but nerves made him clumsy. Albus caught his arm and helped him climb out. They grinned at one another, and left their fingers companionably interlaced.

“Oh, great, you brought your little boyfriend.”

They both jumped, not having realized that there was anyone else in the room with them, but there was: James Potter, Albus’s older brother. He was sitting on the far couch, checking the twigs of the broomstick balanced on his knees.

Albus quickly started to move away from Scorpius, remembered why they were there, and stopped. He stared defiantly at James and gripped Scorpius’s hand tighter.

James was, as usual, looking at them with disgust. It was his general reaction to Scorpius Malfoy’s presence, and Albus generally had Scorpius with him. That was why James had started teasing them for being “boyfriends” during their first year of school: their constant inseparability.

Now, of course, they actually were boyfriends, but James didn’t know that.

He’d find out soon enough; that was what Albus and Scorpius were here to confess to Albus’s parents and siblings, over—or perhaps after—dinner.

“I told mum and dad Scor was coming,” Albus said, glaring. “Not my fault if you never listen when people talk.”

James grinned. “I listen fine when people talk,” he said, “just not when snakes hiss.” He winked. “I don’t speak Parseltongue.” James stuck his tongue out at his brother and made exaggerated hissing noises.

“Or English, I’ve noted,” Scorpius drawled boredly.

James scowled at his little brother’s best friend. “Who gave the Snake Princess permission to speak?” he asked.

“Sod off, James,” Albus snapped.

James shrugged. “Whatever,” he said. “I’m heading off for Quidditch with the cousins. We’re going to the Burrow, if you want to come…you can bring your snakey little boyfriend too, I guess,” he added grudgingly.

“No thanks,” Albus said icily.

James shrugged again. “Suit yourself,” he said, and slung his broom over his shoulder. “Later, snakes,” he called on his way out the door. James was seventeen now, and old enough to Apparate, which he did at every available opportunity rather than traveling via floo. Floo-travel was, he said, for babies. He said it a lot when Albus or Lily were around; he liked to rub in the fact that he was of age now, and allowed to do magic outside of school.

Albus, who could get away with a great deal of magic himself, at least when he was at Scorpius’s house—the Malfoys did not adhere to Ministry decrees the way Albus’s family generally did, so long as nobody was watching—tried not to let on how much this annoyed him.

Of course James, a true blue (or, rather, red-and-gold) Gryffindor and a cheerful, irrepressible trouble-maker, generally annoyed Albus no matter what he did, so that was nothing new.

Today, though, for some reason, Albus was in no mood to take any guff from his older brother. Perhaps it was because he was nervous about what lay ahead; perhaps it was just freshly boosted confidence from their successful confession to Scorpius’s parents yesterday. Whatever the reason, Albus scowled at his brother’s retreating back, and made a sudden decision.

“Right,” he said, as the door slammed behind James, “let’s go upstairs. There’s, like…” he checked his watch, “an hour-and-a-half, maybe two, before dinner. Could be longer, if everybody gets distracted playing pick-up Quidditch. At any rate, though, it should give us plenty of time.”

“Time for what?” Scorpius asked, following Albus to the stairs.

Albus paused with his foot on the first one, turned around, and grinned. His green eyes glinted with a distinctly Slytherin sparkle; it was an expression that Lily Evans had probably never worn, although her troublemaking husband might have.

“Sex,” said Albus. “Time for sex.”

Scorpius’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” he said.

Albus grinned wider and started up the stairs. “I think it’s my turn, don’t you?” he asked mischievously. “And if we’ve got time to kill and the house to ourselves…why not?”

Scorpius followed hesitantly. “I…I’m not sure that…”

“Hey,” said Albus, falling well short of the light-hearted tone he was aiming for, “it may be our only chance to use my room. If mum and dad kick me out after dinner…” he shrugged lightly, but his smile was tremulous.

Scorpius ran up the rest of the stairs and caught Albus in a hug in front of his bedroom door. “That won’t happen,” he murmured.

“Well,” said Albus bracingly, “your parents seemed pretty amenable to the idea of me moving in if it does, so…”

“Well it’s not going to happen,” Scorpius said firmly. “It’s not.”

“Well, I just don’t think it would be the same using a guest room at your house,” Albus said cheerfully. “I mean, that might be ‘my’ room, but this is definitely my room, so…” His grin this time was bright and enticing. “What better place to get fucked the first time, right?”

Scorpius blushed. “Well, it worked for me…” he muttered.

Albus laughed. “Exactly,” he said, and pushed the door open.

Albus’s bedroom was large by ordinary standards, although decidedly smaller than the sprawling, nearly palatial one that Scorpius had. It did not, for example, have its own adjoining sitting room. It was cluttered, and cozy, and distinctly green.

Albus had been at first horrified and ashamed of his sorting, but as time passed, he’d come to terms with it and even, in recent years, come to appreciate being a Slytherin and could honestly say that he was glad he’d been sorted there rather than into one of the other houses, especially Gryffindor.

He really wouldn’t have fit in amongst all those lions.

So, partly to celebrate his newfound self-confidence, and partly to tell James to sod off, he had redecorated his room two years ago, and the prevailing color scheme had been green with gray accents. Lily thought it looked pretty and “almost habitable by humans, which was an improvement as far as brothers’ rooms went.” James thought it was obnoxious, and more than once loudly announced how much he hated it. He refused to ever set foot in such an “awful, snakey room,” although he had regretted his vow as soon as he’d made it; it was hard to torment your siblings if you couldn’t enter their bedrooms.

He’d broken his decree many times in order to torment Albus, but the spirit of the vow remained: he hated his brother’s bedroom, and avoided it whenever possible. When not possible, he simply made fun of it. And, of course, in retaliation, he had re-decorated his own room in pure Gryffindor colors.

Although neither boy knew it, their bedrooms looked as though they had been reverted to an earlier incarnation of the house, because while James Sirius Potter slept where his second namesake had, Albus Severus’s room had once belonged to Sirius’s little brother, Regulus Arcturus. The Noble House of Black might not exactly be getting back to its pure-blooded roots, but it was certainly regressing to the sort of house-based sibling rivalry that its last set of brothers had reveled in.

Harry tried not to let that worry him.

He failed.

But right now, Harry Potter was not at home. No one was save for Kreacher (down somewhere near the kitchen, no doubt, tidying up before dinner), their crotchety old House Elf; Albus, Harry’s second-child and youngest son; and Scorpius Malfoy, Albus’s best friend and boyfriend.

Scorpius was currently backed up against the firmly closed door of Albus’s bedroom, and getting the daylights snogged out of him. Albus was trying to convince his boyfriend that shagging in the middle of the afternoon, despite their imminent dinner engagement with Albus’s parents and siblings, was a brilliant idea.

His arguments weren’t particularly eloquent, but Scorpius was nonetheless quickly convinced.

It didn’t take them long to get their clothing off, even with their rather less-than-helpful attempts to assist one another. Impatient hormones made an excellent motivator for speed. The fact that Albus was in a bit of a temper because of his brother, and eager to stick it to James by getting it stuck to him, so to speak, surely didn’t hurt either.

“This…isn’t a good idea,” Scorpius panted. Despite his protestations, he didn’t pause in his efforts to struggle out of his trousers. His only hesitation came from the fact that it was hard to catch his breath or form coherent sentences with Albus paying that kind of attention to his neck and shoulders.

They stumbled to Albus’s bed, Albus swearing distractedly when he stubbed his foot on a heavy iron cauldron lying on the floor. Scorpius snickered until he ran into the corner of Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five, and yelped at discovering how sharp that corner was.

They left a trail of clothing behind them. Even in Albus’s cluttered room that stood out, because while Albus did have an unfortunate tendency to leave his clothes on the floor, he tended to wear mostly tee-shirts and jeans, sometimes a patterned button-down or heavily-pocketed shorts. Scorpius, by contrast, dressed like some costume-reject from the Wizarding World of 1892, and his elegant, slightly dandified clothes didn’t belong crumpled on any floor, least of all Albus’s.

Scorpius was, for once, too distracted to care about being neat. Right now all of his attention was focused on Albus, and on snogging him senseless. And then, after that, other things that did not necessarily prohibit snogging, but were a bit more involved than the mere exchange of saliva, pleasurable although that was.

He suddenly stopped and drew back slightly on the bed. “Oh for Merlin’s sake,” he cursed, “we can’t.”

“Can’t?” said Albus. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t…this,” said Scorpius, blushing slightly.

Albus frowned. “Why not?” he demanded.

“Well, I…I didn’t bring, um…” Words failed Scorpius; he shrugged helplessly, his face absolutely crimson.

“Oh!” said Albus. He hoped off the bed and retrieved his jeans from their denim puddle on the floor. He stumbled back distractedly, fishing in the pockets. “You mean this?” he asked with a grin, producing a small jar.

Scorpius’s grey eyes widened. “Yes,” he said, bewildered.

Albus’s smile turned broad and smug. “Got it covered,” he said, sliding back onto the bed next to Scorpius. “I thought I’d bring it along just in case,” he explained while he nibbled Scorpius’s ear. “After all,” he added with an exaggerated eyebrow-waggle, “it turned out to be bloody useful to have around after we told your parents…”

Scorpius laughed. “I know,” he said with a grin, “I’m still a bit stiff.”

Albus—whose fears over hurting his boyfriend had dissipated with Scor’s soreness—grinned back. “Well, get stiffer,” he teased. “It’s your turn to do the work, and you won’t be much good if you’re not.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “You’re hilarious,” he lied dryly.

“Yep,” said Albus, “I know.” He tossed the jar to Scorpius who, despite having been looking in completely the opposite direction, caught it easily with the reflexes of an experienced Chaser.

Albus followed the jar with his mouth, kissing Scorpius until they both had to at last break away in order to gasp for air. They ended up lying on the bed, Scorpius on his back and Albus pressed on top of him, snogging for several minutes. It wasn’t until the kissing got interrupted by the volume and frequency of their moans as they rubbed against one another that they remembered what they were meant to be doing.

Scorpius sat up and Albus quickly rolled over to lie on his back. He felt suddenly nervous as he spread his legs, despite how many times Scorpius had finger-fucked him before with those delightfully dexterous digits. Albus shoved the fluttery feeling aside as much as he could and gave Scorpius the best devil-may-care grin he could muster.

Scorpius grinned back, his icy eyes glittering. Then a long, graceful finger, thickly coated in lube, slipped easily inside of Albus. He groaned, going utterly hard at the feeling of Scorpius inside of him. Scorpius thrust with his finger, swirling it around and sideways and back several times before adding a second one and repeating the exquisite, tortuous process with both of them.

Albus shivered. Scorpius’s fingers felt, as always, amazing. Albus reminded himself that something even better would be coming soon, and tried not to get carried away bucking against Scor’s fingers. If he let himself come now, well, it would be fun…but not what he had planned.

And he wanted that, desperately.

“Please…” he moaned.

“Patience,” Scorpius retorted smugly.

Albus scowled at him. Scorpius just snickered, unrepentant, and scissored his fingers. Albus squirmed deliriously, moaning as he stretched and shivered. Scorpius leaned down and licked his way from Albus’s naval to his lips, then captured them for a long, proper snog. Albus moaned into Scorpius’s mouth and bucked, pressing himself down on Scorpius’s fingers.

Scorpius slowly drew them out, leaving Albus gasping and empty. He swore, panting and desperate and sticky. Scorpius smirked, the expression on his face dangerous, then suddenly bent over, closing his mouth around the head of Albus’s cock.

Albus—caught completely by surprise—thrust upwards, but Scorpius had been expecting something like that, and moved with him. His mouth was hot and wet around Albus’s trembling, dripping cock, and he ran his tongue around and through the slit in the throbbing tip. Albus moaned, shuddering.

“You…bastard,” he gasped.

Scorpius chuckled, the sound vibrating all along Albus’s hard, pulsing length. Albus whimpered.

He didn’t realize that Scorpius had reached for the lube again until the fingers returned, slipping back inside to freshly coat him with gobs of the cool, slick liquid. Albus squirmed around them, delighted with the feeling yet tortured by the knowledge that it wasn’t enough.

“More!” he pleaded desperately. “Now, please!”

Scorpius slid his mouth off of Albus’s cock, a thin line of saliva and pre-cum glistening down his chin. “Okay,” he said quietly. He looked very pale and nervous, and he swallowed hard. Scorpius slathered more of the lubrication on himself, then carefully shut the jar and set it aside. He paused, chewing on his lip.

“Are you sure about this?” Scorpius asked quietly.

“Oh Hell yes,” said Albus fervently. He wriggled on the bed, sliding closer to Scorpius and spreading his legs. “I am so bloody sure,” he said, grinning.

“Okay,” Scorpius said again, with a very small smile. Then he leaned down, carefully positioning his own cock against Albus’s wet, twitching entrance. The thin ring of muscles throbbed and pulled, drawing Scorpius forward. He pressed in and Albus’s moan seemed to go on forever. Scorpius didn’t realize that he’d groaned as well; he was too distracted by how it felt, and the sounds that Albus was making, to listen to himself.

Albus clutched at the bedcovers, at Scorpius’s arms, at his shoulders; he tangled his fingers in Scorpius’s silky hair, hanging on as if for dear life. He braced himself, pressing down to meet each thrust, but still slipped backwards on the bed each time Scorpius pressed forward. Albus was shaking, almost convulsing around the throbbing length of Scorpius; he felt raw and wet and open and so very, very tight.

The slick hardness of Scorpius’s cock rubbed against his taut walls, stretching him wider with every push. Albus groaned, utterly lost in the ecstasy of having Scorpius moving inside of him. The thick shaft didn’t have the graceful dexterity of Scorpius’s fingers, but it didn’t need that; it was so broad, and Albus so tight, that it pressed against every side at once, filling him to the brink and further with each careful thrust.

Albus didn’t realize that he was pleading until Scorpius retorted with a refusal. “No,” he gasped, his grey eyes heavy-lidded slits, “don’t be…daft, I’ll hurt you if I…go any…faster.”

“Please,” Albus begged, “please, I need you, I need all of you, now, please…hurt me, please, just…just fuck me…oh, Merlin…fuck all of me, please, put it in…faster, all the way…” He was panting, shoving against Scorpius’s cock, barely aware of the words tumbling out of his mouth. They seemed to have issued of their own accord, although Albus couldn’t deny that they held wisdom. He did need Scorpius, all of him, right now.

He kept up the entreaties—although they grew steadily less coherent—but Scorpius stubbornly resisted his pleas, although he trembled violently with the effort of such restraint. Albus moaned, enjoying the way that Scorpius’s body shook, pressed so closely next to his own, and within him as well.

Albus felt like he was going to snap in half, he was filled so far beyond the brim. Scorpius thrust harder, scraping all the way back to Albus’s depths.

Albus had lost his grip on Scorpius’s tousled hair; at some point his arms had ended up flung helplessly over his head, and his fingers tangled with one another senselessly. His legs were wrapped tightly around Scorpius, urging him onwards. Albus’s whole body shook and he writhed deliciously with each long, deep push.

Something bright and hot exploded in front of Albus’s vision, and in his straining arse, and he screamed with the pleasure of it. Scorpius gasped and repeated the thrust, and Albus cried out again. He followed the cry with words, although he was too enraptured by what Scorpius was doing to him to make any sense of what he was saying. He couldn’t imagine that Scorpius was in any state to make note of his words either, though, so it didn’t matter what he said. Nobody was listening.

Except that someone was.

The door burst open, thudding heavily into the opposite wall. One of the hinges creaked ominously, but magical engineering was not so easily shattered as that. The door held, although now it stood wide open, revealing Albus and Scorpius in all their delirious pleasure to the gaping figure standing in the doorway.

“What in the Hell do you think you’re doing!”

The boys looked over for the first time, suddenly aware that they were no longer alone in the room. Their flushed faces paled, and their rhythm faltered.

“Dad—what the fuck—?”

“Exactly!” snapped Harry Potter, crossing the room with six long strides. He grabbed Scorpius’s arm and wrenched the skinny Slytherin off of his son.

The two boys came apart with a wet pop, and Albus yelped.

Scorpius—somehow looking bone-white and crimson with mortification at the same time—clutched at the wrinkled blanket for modesty. His grey eyes were wide with shock and terror.

Albus, by contrast, was merely outraged. He hid his own throbbing erection with the nearest pillow and scowled at his father. “What the Hell was that?”

“That’s what I’d like to know!” Harry bellowed back. He looked furious, and Scorpius suddenly realized how his best friend’s cheerful, easy-going father had managed to frighten so many people twenty-five years ago. Scorpius pulled the blanket up to his chin, wishing desperately that he could Apparate.

“Well what did it bloody look like?” Albus snapped.

Harry rocked back on his heels as if he’d been slapped. “Yes—but—why?” he stammered. Then the scowl was back, and he whipped around to glower at Scorpius Malfoy. “What did you do?” he snarled.

Scorpius shrank in on himself. “I—I—” he stuttered, fear of the angry Auror in front of him strangling his normally adept eloquence. He couldn’t very well have talked his way out of this one, anyway; what could they say: “oops, we tripped?”

“What’d you do?” Harry repeated fiercely. “Was it a spell or a potion? What did you use, and why? Was it Amortentia? I swear, if you’ve Imperiused him…” With every accusation, Harry advanced a step further. Scorpius drew back until he was pressed against the bedroom wall. He looked frozen with terror.

“Shut-up!” Albus yelled. Harry started, spinning around to look at his son again. “I can’t believe you!” Albus continued angrily, his green eyes swimming with tears beneath their heavy scowl. “Amortentia? Imperius? For Merlin’s sake, dad! How could you even think—even suggest—!”

“Albus, don’t worry about it,” Harry said quietly. “I promise, I’ll get this sorted out, and everything will be—”

“Everything was all right until you came in here spouting that shit!”

“Albus!” Harry snapped instinctively, “language.”

“If you don’t want me swearing,” Albus retorted, “don’t say such crazy awful bollocks!”

“Albus, just calm down,” Harry soothed. “I’ll figure out what’s going on, and how to fix it—”

“What’s going on,” Albus said, “is that we were shagging, dad. At least until you interrupted, that is.”

Harry flushed uncomfortably. “Yes,” he said tersely, “I could tell. And I promise, whatever it was—whatever he did to you to make you…you know…I’ll fix it. Whatever spell he cast, or—”

“He didn’t cast any bloody spell!” Albus snapped.

“Well then why were you letting him shag you!” Harry snapped right back.

“Because he’s my boyfriend!” Albus yelled. He slumped back on the disheveled bed, hugging the pillow. “That’s what I was gonna tell you and mum tonight,” he muttered, “after dinner. That was the plan.”

“Your…boyfriend?” Harry repeated, incredulous.

“Yeah,” said Albus defiantly, “my boyfriend.” He reached out for Scorpius’s arm and pulled the other boy towards him; Scorpius came slowly, the hand that was holding his blanket white-knuckled. He pressed himself tightly against Albus’s side and watched Harry balefully as if expecting some sort of attack. Scorpius was suddenly very conscious of his parentage, and of Harry Potter’s fame. He swallowed hard and licked lips that had gone painfully dry.

Albus wrapped an arm around Scorpius’s thin shoulders and glared at his father, daring him to protest.

Harry just stared, his expression utterly bewildered. “Your boyfriend?” he said again.

“Yes,” Albus said pointedly, “so if you could maybe stop prattling on like a crazy person about spells and potions and poisons…”

“But…I don’t understand,” said Harry. “I mean…how can he be your boyfriend?”

“Well we’re dating,” said Albus shortly. “I understand that generally signifies.”

“But you aren’t gay,” said Harry.

“Obviously I am,” Albus snapped.

“Oh,” said Harry. He blinked. “Really?”

Albus’s cheeks went red. “I was just getting shagged up the arse and enjoying it,” he muttered, outrage warring with embarrassment, “so I’d say, yeah.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell us?” his father asked. “Or, did your mum know?”

“No,” said Albus, “I don’t think so, anyway. I mean, I haven’t told her. So unless she figured it out…” Albus shrugged.

“Oh,” said Harry again. “So…you’re gay?”

“Yes,” said Albus.

“And…you’re dating Scorpius?”

“Yes,” Albus said again, more pointedly. His grip on Scorpius’s shoulder tightened.

Harry went crimson. “Oh,” he said, “hell. I’ve just made an awful prat of myself, haven’t I?”

“You think?” said Albus.

“Shit,” said Harry. “I mean, crap. I mean, sorry. I mean…crap.” He shook his head. “Oh…bollocks.” He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his forehead, where his scar used to twinge. “I’ve cocked this up mightily, haven’t I?” he sighed.

Albus started to relax, just slightly, his own temper ebbing a little bit as his father’s anger evaporated. “Yes,” he agreed.

Harry sighed again. “I’m sorry, I just…I didn’t know, I mean, I thought that…well I heard you, erm, heard you yell, and I thought something was wrong, maybe that you’d been brewing something that had backfired—I know you do that, don’t bother denying it—and…” He shrugged. Albus said nothing; under the circumstances, trying to convince his father that he didn’t engage in the occasional bit of illicit underage magic seemed pretty pointless.

“Well, so I came in and…that,” Harry said, lamely.

“That?” Albus said, raising an eyebrow.

“And, and I didn’t know you were gay—you never told me—it would have made sense, I guess, kind of, if I’d known…” Harry eyed Scorpius uncertainly, wondering if that would ever make sense. “And, well, I just assumed…”

“That Scor had bewitched me?” Albus finished, incredulous.

Scorpius made a strangled noise of indignation but did not speak; he was still leery of interrupting, even with Harry Potter now considerably more mellow than he had been moments earlier.

“Well,” said Harry, “yes.” He gave a shamefaced shrug. “I mean…yes?” he said. “I mean, well, I did think you weren’t gay, so…I dunno what other assumption you’d expect me to come to, given the, er…situation…”

“Maybe one that doesn’t include my best friend bespelling me so he can get into my trousers?” Albus snapped. Scorpius blushed terribly.

“Er…” said Harry, “sorry.” He offered Scorpius a hesitant smile of apology.

Scorpius just nodded, somewhat unwillingly. Ordinarily he’d have been outraged at such an insult, but he was still half-convinced that Harry Potter was a hairsbreadth away from hexing him, so he said nothing.

Albus sulkily settled himself next to his boyfriend. “I can’t believe that was your first thought,” he muttered petulantly. “And you wonder why Gryffindors and Slytherins can’t get on better, with you lot jumping to conclusions like that about us…”

“I said I was sorry,” Harry protested. “And it’s got nothing to do with house status, anyway,” he added. “It’s just…”

Scorpius bristled. “I beg your pardon,” he said icily. “You may accuse my family of a great many things, sir, but a necessity of relying upon love spells,” he spat disgustedly, “is not, I think, one of them.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry said quickly. “I was just…caught off-guard, that’s all. It was, erm…well, kind of a…a shocking sight, you have to admit, to just stumble on out of nowhere…”

Both boys blushed at that, although Scorpius still looked cross underneath the mortification. Neither one of them could bring themselves to meet Harry’s eyes though, which was just as well, because he was having a hard time trying to meet theirs.

“Anyway,” said Harry, after an awkward silence, “how, um, how long have you two been, er…”

“Dating?” Scorpius asked.

“Shagging?” Albus said at the same time.

Harry’s ears turned pink. “Er—whatever,” he said.

“A few months,” Albus admitted. “Er, the dating, that is. The shagging’s a bit newer. Lots newer, actually.”

Harry nodded. “Well, I just hope you’re being, you know, safe and all…”

“Merlin’s beard, dad!” Albus exclaimed. His face went as crimson as his father’s. Scorpius hunched down, pulling the blanket up to his nose and trying to turn invisible. “Yes!” said Albus, “yes, for the love of everything stop talking, dad, stop talking forever!”

“Sorry,” said Harry, looking everywhere but at the two boys cringing with embarrassment in front of him. “I’m your dad, I have to ask…”

“We’re fine! We’re great! We’re dandy! Please go away now!” Albus cried.

“Right,” said Harry. He nodded, still looking away. “Well, um. Yeah. Right, then. So, uh…dinner, um, dinner will be in…uh, an hour or so, I guess…if you want to, um…come on down, then…your mum’ll want to, um, talk to you, too, so…”

“Yeah,” said Albus, “okay, right. Thank you. Please go away.”

“Right,” Harry nodded again. “Right, okay. Yeah.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, then muttered, “right,” again, and quickly sped out of the room.

He was careful to tug the door very tightly closed behind him.
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