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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Albus’s cheeks were still pink forty-five minutes later when he dragged himself downstairs. Scorpius, trailing the taller boy reluctantly, was himself so pale that he looked more like an inferi than a wizard.

Harry Potter, looking extraordinarily awkward, sat fiddling with a cup of tea at the kitchen table.

Albus looked at his father and felt an overwhelming surge of embarrassment mingled with a hot flash of anger. Embarrassment, obviously, because of the mortifying position that he had just been caught in, and the rather unfortunate things they had said to one another; anger because of the interruption.

The boys had not, after all, gotten to finish what they had been doing before Albus’s father walked in. Scorpius had refused to be convinced or cajoled, and had put his foot down quite as hard as was possible on the matter; he could not, would not, resume fucking Harry Potter’s son in the man’s own home, not after seeing how upset the activity had made him. He did not think it proper.

Albus would have liked to take “proper” and throw it quite as hard as he could out the window, and was more than frustrated enough right now to break plate glass without effort, but Scorpius had refused to budge. Had refused, in fact, even to substitute other, lesser pleasures for the interrupted one.

So Albus swore under his breath, and glared at his father even as his face flushed and his stomach twisted, and he led a trepidatious Scorpius into the room. They were both damp from showers that had, unfortunately, been taken separately, and as deflated as they were, the boys looked a little bit like half-drowned rodents.

“Hey, dad,” Albus muttered.

Harry grunted and smiled at the boys, although the expression was awkward and uncomfortably twisted. He stirred his well-blended tea just to have something to do with his hands, which felt out-of-place and clumsy.

“I, um...I guess we should talk,” Albus mumbled.

Harry grunted again, with a frightened little smile and a nod. He jerked a hand to indicate that the boys were welcome to join him at the table.

Albus and Scorpius exchanged glances; Scorpius looked frightened, and awkward as he always did when in a kitchen; the pure-blood boy, with his house full of Elves, was never sure how to act when in his friends’ parents’ houses, where kitchens were places to both eat and socialize in.

Albus, while nearly as pale as his boyfriend, looked by contrast determined and almost belligerent. He was still running mostly off of frustration and insult, and part of him—the small part that was red-and-gold, rather than green-and-silver—was spoiling a little bit for a fight.

He tried to tamper that impulse, though, because Harry Potter wore an expression of contrite eagerness, like he was sorry for what he had said, and assumed, and desperate now to make up for it. Albus reminded himself that his father was as prone to making mistakes as anyone else, and that at least he had admitted he had been mistaken, and seemed willing now to listen to his son’s explanation.

Albus took a deep breath, squeezed Scorpius’s hand, and sat down at the the kitchen table.

“So,” he said, “umm...we’re dating, then. Scor and I.”

Harry nodded earnestly. “Right, yeah,” he said, “I got that. Um...why?”

Albus stared. “Um...because I’m in love with him?”

Scorpius went slightly pink, and ducked his head, but a small smile played across his thin lips.

“Oh,” said Harry. “Right.” He fell silent then, actually twiddling his thumbs around the handle of his mug, because he could think of nothing else to say.

Neither could Albus, who looked away from his father, and wished that he had some tea of his own, to fiddle with.

Scorpius coughed lightly, but said nothing, and went pale when both Potters turned to look at him. “Sorry,” he muttered, and dropped his gaze to his knees.

That distracted Albus for a few minutes, because knees meant lap, and there was something in Scorpius’s lap that he was very interested in, and that he’d been planning to pay a lot more attention to an hour ago before his father had interrupted them...

But Harry interrupted again, and Albus flushed, as if he’d been caught thinking those sort of things aloud. “So, uh,” Harry Potter said, scratching the back of his neck and making eye-contact with no one, “how, um, how long have you two been, er...?”

“About three months ago,” Albus answered quickly.

Scorpius glanced sideways, but resisted the urge to point out that Albus had been decidedly more pedantic about time allotted when it had been his father they had been explaining themselves to.

“Ah,” said Harry. He stirred his tea.

They all fidgeted again, in silence.

“Maybe...maybe I should go...” Scorpius said quietly, standing up.

“No!” Albus yelped, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and yanking him back into his seat.

“Okay,” said Scorpius, “sorry. I just thought...” He trailed off, the silence falling back over all of them, thick and heavy.

Harry Potter wore an expression of mild disappointment that he quickly disguised by taking a long drink of his tea. He wouldn’t have minded the chance to discuss this earth-shaking news with his son in private, but he had had several years, now, to get used to the idea of Scorpius Malfoy being a constant presence at his son’s side.

He just hadn’t realized how closely the boy clung to Albus’s side, and that idea disturbed Harry on several levels, chief among them the disturbingly visual one that had just been explicitly played-out in front of his disbelieving eyes.

Harry swallowed hard and tried to banish the afterimage of Draco Malfoy’s son fucking his Albus Severus. It was difficult to do, and Harry drank more tea to cover his discomfort. He wondered if Hermione would be willing to Obliviate him later. She was good at memory spells...

“So, um,” Harry asked his son, “why didn’t you, uh...why didn’t you, you know, tell me?”

“I was going to,” Albus said, more defensively than he meant to. “Today, actually.”

“Ah,” said Harry. “So, how did that work out for you?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

Albus’s lips twitched briefly into something that was almost a grin. “Didn’t really go as planned,” he replied.

"No,” said Harry quietly, “no I’d bet not.” He drank more tea, and the boys fidgeted.

“So, uh...” Albus said. “Are you, um...I mean...” He trailed off, biting his lip. Scorpius reached over and took Albus’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze, and Harry flinched and looked away.

“Yeah?” Harry prompted, still not looking at the boys, when Albus stayed silent.

“Are you really mad at me?” Albus asked in a very quiet voice.

“I...I wouldn’t say mad, really...” Harry said. He squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable in his chair, despite the soft cushions. “I just...”

“You hate me now.”

“Albus, no! No, of course not!” Harry sat up so sharply he jostled half the tea out of his cup. “Of course I don’t hate you,” he said, “don’t be crazy!” Harry wiped the mess up absently with his palm, staring wide-eyed and worried at his youngest son.

“Oh,” said Albus. He was looking down at the floor and clinging very tightly to Scorpius’s hand. “So...you just hate my boyfriend, then.” Albus sounded like he was ready to fight, or to cry, or maybe both at once. Scorpius stayed very quiet and didn’t look at either Potter, but his grip on Albus’s hand was white-knuckled and trembling.

“No.” Harry sighed. He scrubbed a hand over his forehead, a habit that lingered whenever he was stressed or pained, even though the scar there no longer twinged. “No, I don’t hate you Scorpius, of course not. I just...”

“Just what?” Albus asked.

“I just don’t like the idea. You’re just, you’re awfully young for...for that sort of stuff,” Harry finished lamely, turning very red.

“So I’m too young to fall in love, is that it?” Albus snarled. “I’m too young to know if I like boys, and not girls?”

“No,” Harry said, trying to speak calmly; trying to keep Albus calm, “of course that’s not what I meant. You’re just too young for...for that sort of...for doing that, all right? I don’t like it.”

“James shags people,” Albus pointed out sullenly.

“And I objected to that, too, when we found out,” Harry replied, “for all the good that did. Your brother isn’t exactly what I’d call a perfect role model, Albus...”

“But at least he sleeps with girls?” Albus snapped.

“No, Merlin no!” Harry said. “Jeeze, Al, I’m not upset because you’re gay, I'm upset because you didn’t tell me, and because I found out like—like that, and you’re having sex, and you’re still a kid, and—” He fell silent, and did not add, and you’re dating a Malfoy.

“Oh,” said Albus. He looked suspicious and not entirely convinced.

“Look, Al, it was just...it was pretty sudden, okay?” Harry said, almost pleading for his son to understand. “I mean, I had no idea about—about any of it. For all I knew, you hadn’t even noticed girls, or—well, or noticed boys, actually, I guess I mean, and then all of a sudden there you were...doing that.”

Albus nodded slowly. “Well...sorry,” he said, very grudgingly. “I didn’t know it wasn’t allowed.”

“It’s not—it’s not that it’s not allowed, it’s...I just...I have a hard time remembering you’re growing up, okay? And I still think you’re too young to be—you know—with anyone. No offense, Scorpius,” Harry added reluctantly. Scorpius gulped and nodded, but he only met Harry’s eyes for a moment before he looked quickly away again, unhealthily pale.

“Well I’m not,” Albus insisted. “I’m sixteen,” he pointed out, with the world-weary air of adolescence, “what were you doing when you were sixteen?”

“Well...fighting a war, actually,” Harry said gently, “but that wasn’t my choice, and we were all of us definitely too young for it, we just didn’t have a choice. And to be perfectly honest, when I was sixteen, I could barely talk to a girl without putting my foot in my mouth, so...”

Albus smirked. “So I’m smoother than you,” he said, “and you can’t blame me for that.”

Scorpius snorted. “I don’t know if I’d call it smooth ,” he murmured.

Albus kicked him lightly under the table. “Shut-up, you,” he muttered. The boys were smiling shyly at one another, in a way that both made Harry’s heart feel very warm, and made his stomach feel very cold and nauseated. They looked sweet...and that was indescribably disturbing to him. Harry hadn’t even known that Scorpius’s pointed face was capable of expressions like that, and to see someone who looked so much like Draco Malfoy smiling sweetly at his son ...

Harry grimaced and took a long sip of cold tea.

There was a sudden sound of flaring fire from the living room, and a great clatter as if a number of people were climbing out of the grate, and a shuffling of feet and brooms, and the gabble of voices. Albus dropped Scorpius’s hand as if he had been burned, and turned almost as pale as his friend—as his boyfriend, Harry corrected himself .

Harry didn’t think he’d ever be able to get used to that. Maybe it was just a phase, some sort of teenage rebellion, and Albus would soon settle down with a nice girl or bloke, instead of...of the one he had now.

But Scorpius was looking at Albus with such a heartrendingly sincere expression that Harry had to clear his throat and look away. He took a moment with his almost empty tea cup to compose himself, then turned back to face the boys again. Albus seemed ready to vibrate right out his chair, to run off and vomit before curling into a quivering ball of tears and worry.

Harry tried to smile encouragingly, even though he felt sick himself. “Sounds like they’re home,” he said, as bracingly as he could. “Ready to tell your mum?”

Albus swallowed hard. Scorpius nudged him, very discreetly under the table, with a delicately booted foot. Albus glanced up into Scor’s cool grey eyes, and felt warmer. Scorpius smiled, comforting and loving and very worried. Albus managed a flickering smile himself, and nodded at his boyfriend.

“Okay,” Albus said, “I’m ready.”
- 6
- 7
- 8
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