Taming

When Rose, Lily, and Scorpius finally got out of bed once and for all, it was nearly lunchtime. They got dressed and headed downstairs, Scorpius once again hoping to bump into Albus.

When they entered the Hall, Scorpius saw him sitting at the Hufflepuff table with Kane. For once, he didn’t even care that much. Kane was obviously just a temporary companion, and one that Albus couldn’t care much about. If he cared for Kane romantically at all, he’d never have kissed Scorpius like he did. Scorpius was sure of it.

He sat with his back to the Hufflepuff table just for good measure, but he felt like his old self. He and the girls filled Hugo and Kate in on their slumber party, and everyone laughed and joked together.

When Rose gave him a little nod to indicate that Albus was leaving, Scorpius waited a minute, and then got up to follow. He was determined to have a repeat performance of yesterday’s activities, if not an outright reconciliation.

However, when he stepped into the corridor, his heart stopped dead in his chest. Albus, his Albus had Kane Morton pushed up against the stone wall and was snogging the younger boy enthusiastically. As Scorpius watched in horror, Albus’s hands snaked up Kane’s shirt and over his heavily muscled chest.

Kane’s hands crept lower and he pushed his fingertips under the waistband of Albus’s tight jeans, cupping his arse. They were grinding together in a very obvious manner.

Kane threw his head back against the wall in apparent ecstasy, and Albus started kissing his neck. Scorpius stood frozen, unable to look away, even though his heart was breaking all over again. Without even noticing that he stood there, Albus and Kane turned suddenly and began hurrying towards the Slytherin dormitory, obviously needing more privacy than the corridor afforded.

Fighting back tears, Scorpius turned around to go back into the Hall to get Rose, and he saw Mirabella Zabini watching him. She had clearly seen the whole thing. Her pretty face was impassive. It was profoundly disturbing. There was no feigned sympathy or outrage, but neither was there mocking or glee at his humiliation. She had simply been watching with detached disinterest as if the whole thing was rather boring.

He had a sudden flash across his mind’s eye. Mirabella in harem pants, fanning him with a palm frond. Watching with the same detached disinterest as Albus stabbed himself with a dagger. The dream. The dream from the infirmary! He heard words drifting through his ears like someone was whispering them even now. Albus, standing in a boat. ‘What liessss you tell from your pretty lipssss.’ And Albus again, outside the Charms classroom, “What lies you tell, and so easily!” And Mirabella in the hallway yesterday just after he kissed Albus. Waiting for him. Waiting for him. He remembered how she’d been surprised, though she’d tried to hide it, when he said that he’d work things out with Albus.

Mirabella. Suddenly, he knew. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew with perfect clarity. She was at his side now. “Oh, Scorpius, darling! How painful that must have been! Why don’t I take you back in the Hall and get you some tea?”

“You,” he hissed. “What did you do?”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to, darling.”

“Stop calling me that! You spiteful, conniving bitch! This is your fault!”

“Why on Earth would you accuse me of having anything to do with your love life?”

“Because this is your fault! I know it is!”

“How could you possibly blame me?” she asked, but he could see a tiny bit of fear in her eyes.

“I know you. I know what you’re capable of! How did I not think of you right off? Call it intuition, call it Divination. Maybe I’m a fucking psychic, but I know it was you! And you’re going to help me fix it or I’m going to kill you with my bare hands!”

She smirked at him. “You wouldn’t lay a hand on me. Although you have in the past on a few occasions that we both enjoyed.”

Unable to help himself, he reared back and smacked her across the face with all his strength.

Her head rocked backwards, but when she turned back to him, she was grinning. There was blood at the corner of her mouth, and she licked at it. She was breathing heavily, and it occurred to him that she was aroused by his violence. He felt like vomiting.

“You’ll have a hell of a time proving that I did anything to dear, sweet little Albus, darling. You seem to think that you’re the only one around here with half a brain. Besides, it’s too late! You’ve lost him! Do you really want your precious, virginal little Alby back after Kane Morton’s fucked him? Fucked him over and over again. Your property?”

“What’s the password to the Slytherin dorm?” he demanded.

“Fuck you!”

He grabbed her hair and wrapped it in his fist, pulling her head back painfully. “What’s the fucking password?”

She laughed maniacally, and it chilled him. Without warning her knee shot up and hit him in the groin. He released his grip on her hair and doubled over. “Cunt!” he screamed at her.

“You honestly think you can hurt me?” She laughed again. “See you later, darling,” she fairly purred, walking away from him.

“Get back here!” he screamed, but by the time he could stand, she was gone. Rather than try to follow, he ran for the Slytherin dormitories. He pounded on the dungeon door, trying every password he could think of, but the door wouldn’t budge and no one came. He tried for a good half-hour, growing increasingly desperate, until he had to give up.

He ran back to the Great Hall, looking frantically for anyone in a Slytherin uniform, but he didn’t see any Slytherins about. He felt numb. Impotent. He knew that Mirabella was at fault, but he had no proof. He needed to talk to Albus, but Albus was doing… Who knows what? He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to think about it. But it was all he could think about.

He fairly ran up to Ravenclaw Tower, but it was empty. Rose was nowhere to be found. Probably looking for him somewhere. He flung himself on the bed and wept. Disjointed images flitted through his mind. Images from dreams. Images from reality. Images from his imagination, mostly involving Albus bent over under Kane’s straining body.

He clutched the pillow over his head and tried to block the pictures from coming, but he couldn’t stop it. But he wasn’t like Mirabella. He wanted Albus back with every fiber of his being. If Albus were doing… that right now, it wasn’t going to matter. He was going to take him back.

He wasn’t like Mirabella. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. But he could hear her words echoing in his head, ‘Your property.’ And unlike every other word she’d said to him, those words sounded good. Sounded right. Sounded justified.

“Mine,” he hissed. “Mine.”