Taming

Chapter One

Scorpius Malfoy tapped his quill against his desk with rising agitation. He was in deep shit this time, and he knew it. He was trying to wrack his brain for something, anything, that could save his arse from his father’s wrath, but nothing was coming to him. “Bloody lot of good being a Slytherin if I can’t even come up with a devious, underhanded plot when I really need it,” he muttered under his breath. His seatmate looked up from her notes and glared at him. He rolled his eyes at her, but refrained from any further muttering.

Two nights ago, after curfew, he’d been caught by the damned caretaker, Mr. Craddock, snogging a fifth-year, Kane Morton, at the top of the Astronomy tower. Now, it wasn’t the fact that he’d been out after curfew, since he was frequently out after curfew. It wasn’t that he’d been snogging, since he’d shagged nearly half of Hogwarts by this time. It wasn’t that Kane was two years younger, or even that Kane was a male. Both were things that Scorpius had gotten away with before on many an occasion. And luckily Mr. Craddock had arrived before they’d progressed any farther.

The problem lay in the fact that when Scorpius had left Malfoy Manor for his last year at Hogwarts, his father had laid down the law. He’d told his wayward son that it was his life and if he wanted to slut around like lowborn tramp, that was his affair. However, if he received word that Scorpius was being anything less than discreet, and therefore shaming the Malfoy name, he was going to be very displeased.

Last night had marked the third time in as many weeks that Scorpius had been discovered somewhere in the castle adding a conquest to his seemingly endless list, and that nosy old bat McGonagall had said that she was sending an owl to Scorpius’s parents post haste. Scorpius knew she wasn’t bluffing, and unlike many of the teachers, he couldn’t flirt or wheedle his way out of trouble with her.

So now Scorpius had the unenviable task of trying to figure out what the bloody fuck he was going to tell his father when he got called on the carpet. It was not going to be pretty. His father was pretty much the only person besides McGonagall that he had no chance of charming, either. His father had always been immune to most everything but cold logic.

He sighed and resumed tapping his quill. If only Kane Morton wasn’t built like a Greek God with an endearing smile. And he’d been panting for it for months. Scorpius liked to keep his reputation intact or he’d have put the moves on Kane a long time ago. But one didn’t pursue Scorpius Malfoy. One expressed interest, and if he was interested back, he’d give it up. When he was ready.

If there was one thing that Scorpius knew from his upbringing, it was that hauteur commanded respect. Back in third year, when Scorpius had hit puberty and realized that he was quite handsome and desirable in the grand scheme of things, he had developed a rigid set of rules that he followed to the letter. He knew he fancied blokes as well as girls, but he’d already had several girlfriends by third year. Then when he filled out, he attracted the notice of a fifth-year Quiddich player named Augustus Hare. Augustus was something to look at himself, and older to boot, so when he propositioned Scorpius, Scorpius went willingly. Augustus proceeded to spread it all over the school that Scorpius was a hot item and virtually a sure thing.

Scorpius’s Malfoy pride couldn’t abide this turn of events. So he did the only thing a self-respecting pure-blood of exceptional breeding could do. He used his considerable charms to make girls and the slightly-bent boys pant after him like Hippogriffs in heat. And he refused to touch a single one of them until it was on his terms. It took most of third year, but by the end of term, he was insanely popular, and half of the school wanted to sleep with him. It was a fitting victory, and one he savored. But only in private.

The summer between third and fourth years brought the finishing touches to his image. He hadn’t yet gotten in any trouble at school, so his parents gave him quite a bit of freedom. Under the guise of going to visit local friends, sons and daughters of his parents’ friends, he spent long days figuring out how to use the Muggle library. He read books, and especially magazines, mostly on gay culture. Muggle culture was very trendy among Scorpius’s generation, so he learned the slang, learned what to wear, learned about various acts and perversions, and even music. He was astounded at what one could discover in a Muggle library.

In short, he learned how to slut around like a lowborn tramp, to quote his father. To his delight, his popularity increased tenfold when he returned with a trunk full of Muggle clothes that he’d bought at a delightfully tawdry London establishment, and a new vocabulary. He’d learned to say things like “swimmer’s build,” and “fag hag,” and “big nelly bottom” with the ease that most young wizards talked about spells or Quiddich. At the first Slytherin party of the year, he’d made his appearance (fashionably late, natch) with product in his hair and his swimmer’s build encased in black leather pants and a red mesh shirt silk-screened in silver across the front with the word “Jailbait.”

He’d gotten his first blowjob that night. And his second. The first was from a worshipful sixth-year boy named Curtis, and the second, merely for comparison, he’d procured from a fellow fourth-year named Diane Leeds who had been semi-professionally stalking him for at least a year. Curtis had been better, but there was a certain charm in Diane as well.

Scorpius found not just sexual satisfaction in his conquests, but emotional satisfaction. Thereafter, every notch on his bedpost reaffirmed his knowledge that he was special. Sought-after. Desired and nigh worshiped. He was like a drug to these people, and it would have been selfish not to share.

Part of his rules system was to keep his mystique alive, and he parceled himself out carefully. He made it a point to skip at least every fifth party. It irked him because he loved parties and hiding out in the library was such a dull alternative. However, it was a necessary evil, because the next day he would be hounded by people who wanted to tell him how much he was missed and wanted to beg him to come to the next party and not leave them bereft of his presence. It kept people interested in him. And he’d also perfected his dirty smirk, so that if anyone asked him why he didn’t attend this party or that Quiddich match, all he had to do was give them his best smirk and people assumed he’d been shagging into the wee hours with someone much luckier than them.

By his fifth year, that was usually what he was doing when he skipped out on parties. He shagged plenty of girls, which he enjoyed. He shagged plenty of boys, which in many ways, he liked better. He wasn’t above giving a blowjob, although he was careful to keep the upper hand no matter what. He didn’t eat pussy, though. He’d tried it a few times and found it distasteful. But he was Scorpius Malfoy. He didn’t need to do a girl any favors in order to get her to let him fuck her. That sort of activity was fine for blokes who needed the girl to owe them. And on the topic of keeping the upper hand, he never took it in the ass. If a guy, or girl for that matter, wanted to do a bit of fingering while they were rimming him or something, he would usually allow it, but letting a guy fuck him would be letting go of too much control.

He was a bit curious about it, especially since the guys he fucked seemed pretty mad for it. But it wouldn’t do for his reputation. Once he was out of school and the social pecking order became less important, he figured he might relax his rules. But in the meantime, he was determined to keep his status as King of Hogwarts firmly in place.

He’d come back this year, ready to take his place as the undisputed god of the school. His days of being jailbait were long behind him and he was ready to use his status to corrupt the younger generations. He suddenly realized that his Charms teacher, Professor Lyle, was giving the assignment, which meant class was nearly over. He jotted the homework assignment on the corner of his parchment. He’d daydreamed through the entire lecture and now he’d have to actually crack a book to write the bloody essay. What a bother, especially since there was going to be a party tonight, and he’d promised several hopefuls that he’d attend.

He swept out of the classroom and nearly ran over a pretty redhead that he recognized as Lily Potter. How interesting. He’d never bagged a Potter. James Potter had graduated last year and he’d been quite popular in his own way. Scorpius had admitted that James was pretty hot, but he was straight as an arrow, always surrounded by girls, and in Scorpius’s opinion, he’d seemed a bit thick-headed. Not at all the type that Scorpius Malfoy would associate with, since Scorpius liked his followers to be hot and able to keep up with his witty banter.

However, as he rather obviously looked Lily Potter up and down, he couldn’t help but notice that she was quite fit. A tad too tall and thin with tits that weren’t worth writing home about, but that face and long ginger hair had serious potential. He could imagine her hair falling around his face while she rode him with those long legs. Definite potential.

He realized that she hadn’t said anything, so he gave her his best eyebrow quirk. She had been blushing under his rather obvious scrutiny, but he refused to offer any sort of apology for staring.

“Hey Scorpius,” she said shyly.

“Potter,” he acknowledged. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, sorry. I was just waiting for my brother. Here he is.”

Scorpius was dimly aware that there was a Potter in his year, but the boy had never been on his radar. Now he took note of why. First of all, he was a Hufflepuff, and while Hufflepuff was usually an excellent source of boys who were willing to grovel, this Potter looked even more timid than most. Scorpius had no use for people who needed to be coaxed. The line-up of the willing was always too long for him to get through effectively anyway. Plus this Potter was quite disheveled-looking.

Scorpius, who was always impeccably groomed, was certainly not interested in a shaggy-haired boy who obviously didn’t know his way around a can of styling wax. The boy’s tie was crooked, and his shoes were scuffed and dirty. Scorpius took a step back if only to get his precious Prada loafers (buffed to a mirror-shine, natch) away from such inferior footwear.

“Scorpius, do you know my brother, Albus?” Lily asked. At the mention of his name, the Potter boy finally looked up from the parchment he’d been skimming. His cheeks were flaming red and he didn’t meet Scorpius’s eyes.

Oh, so that’s how it was. Scorpius had always had excellent gaydar, much better than most, and could spot even the most closeted bi or gay boys at several paces. This one wasn’t even a challenge. He’d bet his right bollock that Albus Potter not only wanted it badly, he probably had been wanting it for some time. A Potter! How delicious.

“No, I’ve never had the pleasure,” Scorpius fairly purred, stepping forward again, this time blatantly in Albus’s personal space. He extended his hand, and Albus took it to shake. Scorpius gave him a lingering squeeze and Albus snatched his hand back as if he’d been scalded.

“Did you enjoy the lesson too much to put it down?” Scorpius asked him, referring to the class notes that Albus seemed unable to take his eyes from. As if he belatedly realized that he was being rude, he dropped the parchment into his schoolbag and finally made eye contact.

Scorpius felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Albus Potter had the most amazing eyes- big and green and… well, Scorpius had never been a romantic, but he suddenly felt like rhapsodizing about limpid pools. But the real appeal was the look in them. When Albus looked at Scorpius, there was a raw, naked need there that took Scorpius’s breath away. Albus Potter was looking at him as if he’d literally expire if Scorpius didn’t touch him, and quickly. It made Scorpius itch to press him against the wall and start snogging him silly in front of his sister and whomever else cared to watch.

Scorpius had been lusted after, fallen in love with, obsessed over, and even worshipped, but he had never seen someone look at him like this. Like he was literally oxygen and if Albus couldn’t breathe him soon, he’d die. Scorpius realized that his knees were rather weak.

“Well, we’d better run, Al. Rose is waiting, you know,” Lily said, seemingly oblivious to the monumental event that was taking place. Scorpius itched to tell her to leave the boy in his care, but there were rules to be considered. Albus Potter had been a complete non-entity to him five minutes ago, and if Scorpius bumped him to the top of the queue… Well, Scorpius didn’t play that way.

“Okay, so see ya, Scorpius,” Lily said cheerfully, still sending him flirty looks. Albus nodded curtly, avoiding Scorpius’s eyes again, and turned to follow his sister.

Before he could help himself, Scorpius said, “Hey Potters.” They both turned, Albus looking at his shoes. “There’s a big party tonight in the Slytherin common room, starting at about nine. The password is ‘murtlap’ if you want to join us. It’s the place to be tonight. Lots of kids from other houses.”

Lily looked delighted to have received such a coveted invitation and she grinned engagingly. Albus didn’t look up from his shoes. “Brilliant! We’ll totally be there,” she said excitedly.

“Great, I’ll put your names on the list so you’ll be sure to get in. Wear something slutty. You, too, Albus.” He couldn’t resist adding. Lily laughed, but Albus’s cheeks went red again. Before he could focus any more on the Potter boy, he spun on his heel and swept away down the hall. He needed to choose something perfect to wear tonight.