when one is in the hospital after being heavily injured and the other visits to comfort them all worried and concerned so the injured one asks for a kiss to make it all better and the visitor complies because they’re whipped … and the heart monitor just goes off like crazy.
when is Scorpius and Albus’s wedding, like seriously, I’ll be there. I’ll be saying the vows. I’ll be handing out drinks. I’ll be hemming the tuxedos. I’ll buy a house for them. I’ll even buy a diamond ring for one of them to propose to the other with. I’ll sacrifice anything for these two to become cannon.
Scorpius is elated that his long-time crush agreed to be his Valentine, and he has the perfect gift for her…
Thank you to the amazing @autumn-of-ilvermorny for being my beta. Seriously, she’s awesome.
*
Scorpius was in an impeccable mood that day. Valentine’s had always been one of his favourite days of the year, for the frilly decorations, the abundance of sweets, and the lovely romantic puns made him giddy with joy. This year, however, was going to be his best Valentine’s yet, because he’d convinced Rose Granger-Weasley to be his Valentine. Even if Rose had imposed certain restrictions before finally agreeing, mainly “stay cool” and “don’t embarrass me”, Scorpius hoped that this was his chance to woo her.
He’d arranged for his dad to send him a giant box of chocolates from their favourite chocolatier in London, since an impromptu trip to their favourite chocolatier in Paris wasn’t feasible. Still, Scorpius was confident that the delicious taste would win her over, while the predictable nature of his gift wouldn’t overwhelm her.
Granted, a box of chocolates wasn’t his original gift idea for Rose, because Scorpius had never been one to do things the subtle way, but Albus had convinced him not to have 100 owls each deliver a rose to the Gryffindor table during the Valentine’s Day breakfast.
Nonetheless, Scorpius had spent a lot of time and effort to make his gift look extra special, by spending the entire morning decorating the chocolate box to perfection. He’d fiddled with ribbons and paper hearts in every shade of pink, to find the perfect balance between eclectic and refined in what, he hoped, translated to an aesthetic of delicate charm. The hardest part, though, was finding the perfect words to write in the card that would express how much he admired her without scaring her off. He’d tossed and turned all night thinking of how to convey his declaration to Rose. Finally, he’d settled on something simple with a romantic tone:
To the most special person I know,
You inspire me every day,
Thank you for being a part of my world,
Your Scorpius
They had planned to have dinner together at the Gryffindor table, where Scorpius would have to not only impress her but her friends as well.
He walked into the dorm he shared with his fellow fifth year Slytherins to prepare for his Valentine’s Day date.
“Oh, hi Scorp, thanks for the chocolates!” said Albus enthusiastically.
Scorpius stood at the entrance of their dorm, frozen. He felt the blood rushing from his face as he watched his best friend pop another chocolate in his mouth, empty wrappers littering the floor around his bed.
“What’s wrong?” sputtered Albus, his mouth full of chocolate, a worried frown suddenly appearing on his face.
“Th-those were for Rose…” replied Scorpius, still in shock.
“Oh… Oh!! I’m so sorry mate, they were on my bed I thought… I thought they were for me.”
Scorpius buried his face in his hands, remembering how he had left the box on his friend’s neatly made bed before heading down to breakfast that morning, since his own always looked like a tornado had just passed through.
“But I wrote a note…” mumbled a discouraged Scorpius.
“The note wasn’t addressed to anyone, I just assumed…” said Albus sheepishly. “I-I thought it was a nice sentiment on your part,” he finished, his eyes fixed on his socks.
Scorpius observed his friend, whose deep red cheeks betrayed how embarrassed he was about the whole situation. There was no malice in his eyes, only guilt, and Scorpius knew he couldn’t be angry with him for an honest mistake.
“What am I going to do now?” lamented Scorpius, taking in the desolate sight of the half-empty chocolate box, “I’m supposed to be meeting Rose for lunch in 20 minutes!”
“Here,” answered Albus, grabbing a small brown package from his bedside table. “You can give her the gift I was going to give you. I mean, it’s only fair after I destroyed your gift.”
“You got me a gift?” said Scorpius incredulously, reaching for the package Albus was handing him. It was definitely a book, that much Scorpius could tell just by looking at it, and it was wrapped in regular brown packaging paper carefully tied together with twine and a small, red bow. It was heavier than he had anticipated, and directly on the packaging paper, Albus had scribbled a note:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I thought books were lame,
But then I met you.
Thanks dork,
Albus
“But… I thought you hated Valentine’s Day?” was all Scorpius could think of saying, touched and a little surprised by his best friend’s words.
“I do, it’s a stupid consumerist holiday meant to make single people feel bad, but I know it makes you really happy, so…” said Albus, looking back down to his feet, as if his socks had suddenly become fascinating.
“Can I open it?” asked Scorpius.
Albus shrugged in response: “If you want to.”
Scorpius tore open the paper wrapping to reveal a blood red cover with the title of the book stamped in black gothic letters: A Compendium of Romantic Poetry. Scorpius quickly thumbed through the table of contents, revealing that it included the works of muggle poets of the Romantic era such as Edgar Allen Poe, Samuel Coleridge and Percy Shelly.
“Thank you Albus, this is so nice,” said Scorpius, a bright smile on his face. “You know these aren’t romantic poems in the lovey-dovey sense, right?”
“I knew you’d get it,” replied Albus, smiling back.
Scorpius studied his friend for a moment, touched by the thoughtfulness of his gift. He suddenly felt inadequate, for he hadn’t even thought of getting Albus a gift. Yet, Albus was the one with whom he spent most of his time with, the one with whom he passed notes in class, and with whom he laughed on a daily basis. Instead, he had spent all night thinking of thousands of words to write for Rose, in the hopes they would show how much he appreciated her. In truth, all those words could easily apply to Albus, and even if he combined them all they would not come close to encompassing how much he truly valued his best friend.
Albus cleared his throat, pulling Scorpius out of his train of thought.
“Do-do you think Rose would get it too?” said Albus, looking embarrassed again.
“Probably not, I think I’d better hold on to it,” replied Scorpius, as he walked over to Albus’s bed and jumped on it.
“What are you going to do about Rose?” inquired Albus.
“I think I’ll send her a note to tell her I’m feeling somewhat unwell and would hate to share my sickness with her. I should probably stay in bed for awhile,” said Scorpius as he plopped a chocolate in his mouth. “Mmhm, Albus, these are good, you should really have some of these.”
Albus grinned and joined his friend on his bed. “Would you feel better if I read you some gory poems?” he said, picking up Scorpius’s new book.
“That would be lovely, said Scorpius approvingly. “Maybe the macabre will scare the illness right out of me. Thank you, Albus.”
As he listened to his friend’s voice croon over the prose of Muggle literary gems, he thought that this year was truly the best Valentine’s Day yet.
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Prompt#: 5 - Someone has played a prank and tossed Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder into the Slytherin boys dorms before sealing it shut. Albus and Scorpius are the only ones inside and they find that their other senses are heightened when they can’t see.
Senses: taste, smell, hearing, touch
Warnings: frottage/coming in pants
Summary:
When you have a crush on your best friend, sometimes all you need is a little push in the right direction. Being locked in your dorm, unable to see or be seen, might just be the perfect opportunity to confess.
This work is part of the Taste of Smut Fest, a Harry Potter-centered fest dedicated to the five senses: taste, touch, smell, hearing, and sight. If you’ve enjoyed this work, please do shower our content creators with kudos and comments!
Albus’ favourite thing about the Club had to be the view of the horizon from the patio just outside the kitchen. The curvature of the sky could almost be seen from the concrete slabs, the blending colours as the sun set casting a gentle light over the predominantly flat golf course before the Club. Under the dwindling evening heat, shirt sleeves fluttering from the gentle breeze whipping through the branches and skimming around his ankles, Albus always felt calm. The sky would transform in to a work of art right before his eyes and he would sit in silence as silhouetted birds flirted with the streaky clouds and wove in and out of their usual triangular alignment.
Often he would sit on the drying grass, fingertips meticulously smoothing through the browning strands as Albus allowed his mind to empty and be filled with nothing but silenced tranquillity. In his world of constantly moving places and frequently intense encounters Albus relished these moments of loneliness; with just him, the sun and the summoning stars Albus felt invincible.
The rest of his day had been spent following his parents around as they forced the family to spend time together. They went on a walk around the grounds, Ginny insisting that the air would clear their minds and allow them to reconnect with the earth, or some other reason like that. Albus would have protested more, but the look of desperation and desire on his mother’s face led him to follow along in their lengthening shadows, feet almost dragging as they outlined the perimeter of the golf course. Harry had then brought them to the poolside for an hours, lounging under the umbrellas as gentle splashes of chlorine-filled water cooled them from the marathon the family had practically completed earlier. An essence of awkwardness lingered as the Potter family pretended that everything was okay and that the current series of events weren’t occurring to solely create a façade of perfection and familial contentment; so, after a short while of sitting in silence, Albus excused himself again.
And his short walk led him to where he sat now: legs crossed as he watched the blue of the day intermingling with the growing darkness of night. When the world wanted him to travel at the speed of light Albus always felt that sitting right here would always bring him back to his speed.
“Are you stalking me?”
That was until, of course, someone interrupted him.
pairing:albus potter x scorpius malfoy wordcount:7,015
chapter four
The world seemed to be on Albus’ side as the Potter’s trudged down to breakfast the following morning. Despite the bags under his eyes from his late night rendezvous and a constellation of bug bites rising over his skin, Albus felt like the higher forces wanted him to have a good day. For starters the family had risen seemingly forgetting all of the tension from the day before, with his parents sleepily exchanging utterances of love over a cup of coffee and Lily and James actually getting along for once. Then when they arrived at their table for breakfast the waiter announced that they were finally serving crepes again and Albus physically beamed. Though he wasn’t a fan of American breakfast foods in their entirety, he would admit to being impartial to a few crepes every now and again. When they arrived the Club seemed to have discontinued from them their menu so Albus would gladly admit his delight at their unexpected return.
After the two intense positives outlining his morning Albus didn’t think his day could have got off to a better start. He had his favourite food and an array of toppings scattered around him and his finally reconstructed family, the warming sun dancing over his back as it rained in from the open doors to the golf course. For the first time in the entire week Albus felt relaxed, entirely tranquil in his situation and surprisingly happy for it being eight in the morning. Then he looked up from his plate, finding himself blinded as he accidentally looked directly at the sun.
Because, of course, there Scorpius was scuttling between tables and meandering through the masses of members sipping at coffee and scratching their knives over their plates. His fingertips wobbled as he piled one too many plates on to his stack, eyes widening momentarily as he regained his balance and plodded off to kitchen. As he went to back in to the room Scorpius’ head surveyed the dining area, eyes lighting as he caught a second of Albus’ face. Albus tipped his head in response, grinning as Scorpius lingered a moment longer before disappearing out of view in to the kitchen.
“Al,” Lily’s voice coaxed him back to reality. Her fingertips grabbed in his direction, eyes staring at the pitcher of juice in front of him. “Pass the orange juice, please?”
pairing:albus x scorpius wordcount:7,829 chapter 2
The dining room at Ivory Falls could change atmosphere with a flip of a coin; in the late evening sultry tones from local bands bounced off the walls, filling the area with encouragements of promiscuity and romance. Dinners and luncheons oozed professionalism as the tables boasted crisp, white tablecloths and the porcelain cutlery shone like a sea of stars outlining the placemats of the wealthy individuals who would be eating there for the day. The furniture would be cushioned with fine fabrics, not a squeak or creak to be heard as middle-aged men seated their heavy bodies down.
Even now, at nine in the morning as the sun began to creep up the clear sky, the dining room appeared completely different to the setting when Albus had arrived the evening prior. As he gently scrubbed his sleepy eyes and ignored the churning of his stomach as he awaited his breakfast, Albus glanced around in admiration at how altered the room now looked. Where the bar would have been bustling hours prior the staff had placed pitchers of juice and water waiting to be brought to the tables. The door to the kitchen constantly swung as waiters brought out dish after dish of breakfast foods to all the members cluttering around the circular tables. It was almost like a theatrical act; as time moved on the room and waiting staff all underwent quick changes to fit the new mood, dressing in costumes of luxury for the evenings or all white for wedding receptions.
The Potter’s reserved a table by the French doors extending on to the golf course for every meal. The laced table tops caught the sun beautifully, cutlery glinting and faces warmed with a morning glow as they waited for their food. Ginny’s eyes were cast to the course outside, staring longingly at the balls floating in the air while she idly stirred a cup of coffee. Lily and James had been engrossed in a mildly intense argument since they woke up, swatting petty insults at each other as James insisted he hadn’t seen her sunglasses while Lily seethed in her seat.
Albus, however, had been too preoccupied taking in his surroundings to engage in any sort of conversation. He’d spent his morning assessing the workers as they danced around the cluttered tables, tiptoeing between small spaces as they paraded trays and cups to patrons. He looked back to his family, eventually, circling his gaze around everyone until he landed on his dad.
Albus thought he knew Ivory Falls Country Club like the back of his hand. He’d spent his summer vacation there every year since he was old enough to have a passport; he had memorised the depth of the pool, the menus for the restaurant and even the names of every staff member he came across. You can imagine his surprise when, as the Potter family return for their annual stay, he meets a blonde-haired summer worker called Scorpius who promises to turn his summer upside down.
or the one where albus and scorpius fall in love over summer. (think dirty dancing and high school musical without the songs.)
pairing: albus potter x scorpius malfoy word count: 8,499 (1/12)
Heathrow Airport is constantly buzzing, Albus has learned. Whether a morning flight departing over a sliver of sunrise or a night-time delay set to a backdrop of flashing lights and harmonious yawns, there are always people flocking the terminals. Thousands of discarded coffee cups and ragged newspapers outline the endless waiting areas, ghosts of the former individuals who inhabited the seats. Forgotten scarves and tablet chargers dangle helplessly to the floor, swimming between masses of people all waiting for their flight.
The four-thirty departure to California from Terminal 3 had already been delayed by twenty minutes when Albus Potter returned from the bookshop he had been perusing. It was two o’clock, prime time for flights, and the Potter family had arrived suitably early for their mid-afternoon haul to Ivory Falls, stuck among the rush hour airport traffic. There were thickets of bodies all glued together in packed waiting areas, bags invading other’s personal space as uptight businessmen battled over who would get the last charging port for their phone. Families huddled together, pillows and blankets clutched to aggravated children’s chests as their parents relayed the news of late flights to them. Albus felt as though he couldn’t breathe. So he left for a while.
With his rucksack slung over his shoulder he weaved his way through the maze of tourists to find the Duty Free area, feet dragging on the slippery floor as he trundled in to the back corner: the book corner. Albus had been to the airport enough times to memorise the layout of Duty Free. Towards the left were fragrances and toiletries – he vividly remembered walking in with Lily five years ago when she proceeded to drop a fairly expensive Tom Ford scent on the floor – with the path winding around through sunglasses to clothes to alcohol. Albus didn’t care for those areas, though. Like a bee to flora he hovered immediately to the small book area, shelves haphazardly littered with random titles from all the possible genres.
Albus thought himself a poet, and so wherever he went he would always have two particular things in his bag: his journal and a book of poetry. He consumed inspiration wherever he was and knew he would be empty without a plain expanse to inscribe his feelings. Albus’ journal had a few pages remaining, stuffed to the core with rhythmic limericks or sonnets about a cute barista he saw over the counter in a coffee shop. He needed a new poetry book, however. For his sixteenth birthday a few weeks prior his parents had splurged on a first edition copy of his favourite poet’s debut collection which, despite Albus’ attempts to read slowly, he devoured in days.
So here he was now. Stood before the bookshelves hoping to spot something that would keep him entertained for the six weeks he was about to spend in a Country Club he’d been visiting since he was old enough to have a passport. Albus would be the first to admit that he adored going away on vacations or spontaneous weekend visits to Rome, but going to the same place in the same country for the entirety of his summer break began to feel more like a chore than a luxury. Albus knew that the amount of money his parents threw at Ivory Falls Country Club to retain their membership was obscene and, after all these years, could have mounted up to the price of a small island. It was no secret his parents were ‘well off’; considering his mother had been a professional golfer for most of her life and his father had created a reputation of being one of the most successful lawyers in London it would be hard to think the Potter’s were anything less than financially stable.
pairing: scorpius malfoy & albus severus potter wordcount: 3,687 (also readable on ao3!)
Whenever Scorpius had visited The Burrow he always noticed how every single nook and cranny simply radiatedwith joy. The creaks that erupted from the staircases as one ascended up the many floors of the home had a positively happy ring to them, the gnomes that inhabited the untamed garden all had smiles on their mischievous faces and even the chipped cutlery seemed to glitter with cleanliness. It felt awfully homely; the way that the chairs curved down from the weight of many people past and present perching on its unsteady legs felt like a comforting support from any problems that Scorpius may have been feeling. Even now, submerged in a hammock strung up between two fine oak trees with a book on his lap, listening to the younger Potters and Weasley’s galloping through the grass, Scorpius felt like he was at home.
He was spending the Easter holiday with Albus and his family as, for the first time, his dad was vacationing with his Grandma and Grandpa Greengrass in the ruins of Rome. Scorpius felt a miniscule wash of spite fill his stomach as his dad expressed his wishes for Scorpius to remain at home, but that feeling was soon gone after Albus extended his invitation to spend the holiday at the Burrow. Scorpius deeply enjoyed any time spent with the Potter family, much more so if the Weasley’s were involved in any way. He recalled the first time he’d met the elder Weasley’s, Molly and Arthur in particular; it was Christmas a year ago and, underneath the gentle glow of string lights hanging between archways and lampshades, he and Albus were gift-giving. Molly had ushered in a tray of freshly baked mince pie, dotting a kiss to the scruffy head of Albus, then to Scorpius, before scuttling out to prepare some hot chocolate. Arthur dozed in the corner on an emerald coloured armchair, uttering words of nonsense between gruff snores that slipped through his open lips. They’d immediately greeted Scorpius as though he were a family member: he’d loved them ever since.
Background Info: Set in Draco’s sixth year, he is struggling with the pressure of his mission, he begins contemplating one of the biggest decisions of his life and the reader helps change his mind.
Y/N- your name Y/S- your surname
Malfoy laid his hands on the wet, silver rail, staring across the endless landscape. The rain trickling in the background, the icy winds piercing his pale skin. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t do it, those four words, repeating in his head, over and over again. How could he? It was impossible, having to murder someone, even Dumbledore. But, even so, Dumbledore never did him wrong, he may have favoured Potter and his friends, but regardless, he still showed him kindness. No, he couldn’t do it. Hoping to take his made off his thoughts, Draco looked up to observe the view. All he could see was the dark forest, misty fog and heavy rain, patches of black and white. Black and white, like the world he lived in. The world will always be divided in two, black and white,the rich and the poor, the good and the bad. He knew where he stood, he was a bad guy. A bad person.
Draco began to shake, the wind started to blow, the air cold as ice. Thick, hot tears began flowing down his face. He was always told from a young age to never show weakness. His father had made that very clear on his seventh birthday, as a birthday gift his father had given him one of the most valuable lessons of his life. His father had bought him two pets, two puppies, one was massive, a Rottweiler and the other was a small chow chow dog. His father had told him to choose wisely, Draco knew what his father wanted, he wanted him to choose the bigger dog, so he did. “Excellent Draco, smart choice, a Malfoy always chooses the stronger one, the one who will survive in this dark world.” his father approved, nodding. Lucius Malfoy pointed his wand towards the smaller dog, and shouted “ Avada Kedavra.” With a flash of green light the dog was dead, Draco couldn’t believe it, his father had killed an innocent animal. He remembered that his seven year old self kept the tears in, but on the inside he was trembling. Looking back on the memory Draco couldn’t understand how a parent could do that to a child, it was wrong and he knew it. Parents were suppose to treat their child with compassion, to teach them to be kind and to help others. His mother had tried, she always treated him with love, unlike his father, she was proud of him. But, she couldn’t of stopped any of this from happening, she loved his father too much to defy him.
Looking over the rail, Draco decided to do it, it was a selfish action, to leave the world when it was at it’s darkest, but he was Draco Malfoy, he was selfish. He took a deep breath, and proceeded to push up against the rail and to swing his leg over. “Stop, don’t do it. ” someone ordered. Draco turned around and saw it was y/n. “What makes you think you can tell me what to do?” Draco snorted back, emphasising on the me, it was rude, but he couldn’t let y/n know that he was weak. “Well, the fact that I have caught you doing something you will regret,making me immediately involved.” she remarked back. “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what I have been through, what I have experienced, so don’t you dare think you can tell me what to do with my life.” Draco said almost screaming, he had said it to y/n, but he knew he was really directing it to his father. Y/N had a blank stare on her face, she didn’t know Draco well, she had only seen him around the school and in between classes, they weren’t in the same house so their paths rarely met, but she had heard the rumours. The rumours that he had become a Death Eater. She didn’t know what to believe, she knew he was a bully, a pure blood who thought better of himself, but he was still a teenager, despite his beliefs she never truly believed he would of chosen that path.
Y/N looked at the man in front of her, he had a cold exterior, blocking all emotion out, but his dark circles and his pale complexion gave his true feelings away, he was scared, who wasn’t, a war was brewing and one day all hell would be unleashed. She stepped forward towards him, he was still looking towards the horizon, his back turned away from her, “ Draco, I understand you’re scared, that you feel afraid and sad, but to fall so low as wanting to take your life, that’s wrong, you can’t do that. Just think about what would happen, how your parent and your friends would feel, they would miss.” Draco interrupted her, “ Miss me? As if they would, they don’t care, because of my father, I’m in this mess and I don’t have any friends.” “ Well what are Crabbe and Goyle, your guardian fairies?” She asked back. “Friends, as if.” he scoffed. “ No one will miss me or care.” Draco said, coming to a realisation. “Well I will, I’ll miss you Draco.” she whispered. “ Why? You barely know me, I don’t even know your name.” he growled. Y/N winced, it hurt, but she knew he was only trying to scare her away and she wouldn’t fall for his tricks. “ I don’t care if you don’t know me, I’m involved now, if you did jump, I would have to live knowing I could of stopped you, Draco Malfoy could of lived if only Y/N Y/S stopped him. How do you think that makes me feel?” There was a beat of silence. “I understand that maybe you haven’t had the best support in the world, that your parents haven’t been great or your friends the nicest. But why does this all have to be about them, i remember the Draco Malfoy, who use to go around telling everyone how great he was, yes that Draco was an arrogant git, but sometimes a bit of arrogance is good. If you jump think about all the things you would of miss out on, as much as I hate to admit it, you are destined for great things, I mean you are a Slytherin, the house of resourcefulness and ambition, you are going to do so well in life, and if you jump you would be throwing all of it away. So Draco I’m asking you, don’t worry about how others think or want, think about what you want, what choice do you want to take.”
Draco was speechless, it was the nicest thing anyone had said to him, yet it hurt, but was true. He had never thought about it before, all his life he was told how to act and what to believe. Everyone knew Draco Malfoy, but not one person knew Draco, just Draco without any of his family prejudices and beliefs. He wanted to succeed, that was true, but all he wanted in life was to be happy, and he was not going to throw all of it away. He let go of the railing and moved back. This was a simple gesture, but Y/N knew she had changed his mind, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. It was awkward, but she knew it was something he really needed. Draco flinched, no one had ever gotten this close to him before, not even Pansy, not on a serious level at least. Deciding not to fight it, he turned around and fell into her arms, it was a sign of being weak, but he didn’t care anymore. Y/N began stroking his hair, “It’s okay Draco, you can cry, I’m here for you.” Soon Y/N could feel hot tears falling down her cheek and she knew Draco finally let his guard down.
![■ Harry Potter themed asks: [8+32] [BR]OTP?“ You two – you belong together.”](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fd0f6db5e88ae50fa8c8b2d38c848bc1/tumblr_obfvyvsNDo1tpcjv2o3_r1_540.png "■ Harry Potter themed asks: [8+32] [BR]OTP?“ You two – you belong together.”")
![■ Harry Potter themed asks: [8+32] [BR]OTP?“ You two – you belong together.”](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7c83ecd8c3edd4005ae8b74460308ba4/tumblr_obfvyvsNDo1tpcjv2o4_r1_540.png "■ Harry Potter themed asks: [8+32] [BR]OTP?“ You two – you belong together.”")
