At the Ministry Ball

Title: At the Ministry Ball
Pairing: Harry/Scorpius; mentions Harry/Ginny and other canon pairings
Rating: NC17
Word count: ~10,000
Warnings: underage (Scorpius is 16), open marriage.
Summary: The only redeeming feature of the night, Harry thought, was Scorpius Malfoy.
Author's Notes: Muse wanted Harry/Scorpius. I wanted a short, straight forward PWP. The end result isn't exactly short and rather tortuous but it has Harry/Scorpius and a little smut. Oh well.


At the Ministry Ball


The only redeeming feature of the night, Harry thought, was Scorpius Malfoy. The boy – no, the young man; Harry remembered well that with sixteen, one is not a boy anymore – sat at a neighbouring table, just a little up and to the left, facing Harry. He sat in a perfect position that Harry could watch him while pretending to watch whoever was making a speech up on the dais.

Harry hated these Ministry functions. Wearing formal robes made him uncomfortable, and chatting politely to people he didn’t know or didn’t like was torture. Plus, there was always a couple of dozens of people who wanted to shake hands with the famous Harry Potter. No, Harry didn’t like Ministry functions. And tonight was even worse as they were celebrating the twenty-fourth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. The date was not something Harry liked to celebrate with an adoring and ignorant public.

But Scorpius Malfoy made up for much of the evening’s misery. Harry kept watching him through the interminable speeches and then, surreptitiously, during the long dinner. The witch sitting to his left might be a brainless chatterbox, and the wizard sitting opposite him a pompous head of some department or other who insisted on discussing head-of-department matters and the Minister’s latest decisions with Harry, but through it all he could keep watching Scorpius Malfoy.

And the young man was worth watching. He was, Harry thought, stunningly handsome, and the blushes and clumsiness of the young witch sitting next to him were easily understandable.

Harry hadn’t seen Scorpius since the summer two years ago when he had bumped into the Malfoy family while picking up his children at King’s Cross Station. Back then, Scorpius had been a gangly, spotty teenager sporting a deep scowl. No trace of that boy in the young man Harry saw tonight. One could almost believe they were two different people.

It was truly fascinating. Scorpius had somehow managed to not inherit any of the not-so-attractive features of either parent. He had looked to become a carbon copy of his father at the age of eleven, but now, at sixteen, he wasn’t. Oh, he was a Malfoy, no doubt about that. He had his father’s white-blond hair, high cheekbones, and effortless grace. His eyes had the same shape as his father’s and he was almost as tall as Malfoy senior, which made him several inches taller than Harry.

But he didn’t have the Malfoy-pointyness. His chin was more rounded and his nose, perfectly straight, he had inherited from his mother. As he had his amazingly blue eyes. His lips were fuller than those of his father and, if Harry remembered correctly, grandfather, and he didn’t sneer.

At least, he didn’t sneer at Harry.

And it wasn’t because he had no opportunity either. If Scorpius had wanted to sneer, he would have had more than enough occasions for it. Harry had made polite conversation with Draco Malfoy before the evening began, and there had been numerous moments of eye-contact. But Scorpius didn’t sneer.

At first, Harry had thought it an accident when their eyes kept meeting during the Minister’s speech. He was, after all, all but staring at the young man. So he politely looked away whenever he and Scorpius made eye-contact. Over the course of the next speeches, however, Harry realised these weren’t accidents. Scorpius was watching him almost as closely as Harry was watching Scorpius.

The realisation had caused a pleasant shiver tingle down Harry’s spine and suddenly, the evening had become interesting.

They kept up the game of catching each other looking, making eye-contact before looking away but now both knew it was a game, and they held the eye-contact longer and longer each time before they looked away again. Harry felt it was a little juvenile for him to play this game but it was surprisingly fun. Plus, it made him seem interested in whatever the person on the dais had to say.

So, no, Scorpius didn’t sneer at him. Instead, he smiled. He had a truly beautiful smile.

As with the eye-contact, Harry had at first thought the smiles weren’t directed at him. The speeches had ended, the dinner had begun, and Scorpius was talking to the young witch next to him. So Harry had supposed these smiles were due to something she had said to him. It was only natural, after all, to catch a smile that wasn’t meant for him, considering how much of the time Harry was looking at Scorpius.

But then, Scorpius had smiled that beautiful, shy smile, looking at Harry, while the young witch was talking to the wizard on her other side. The shiver that had sent down Harry’s spine was stronger than the last one, and it ended in a forbidden, and therefore even more delicious, tingle in his groin. He had smiled back, causing Scorpius to blush and lower his lashes.

Harry couldn’t decide whether the demure display was genuine or not. It certainly seemed to be. But whichever the case, it was pretty and amused Harry.

From then on, Harry always gave Scorpius a small smile when their eyes met. That was probably the reason why the wizard sitting opposite Harry kept blathering about department matters. He thought Harry was interested. Which Harry was, just not in what the man said, but in the gorgeous young man smiling at him over the wizard’s right shoulder.

Over the course of the feast, Scorpius’s smiles became less shy and his comportment less demure. Harry watched, amused and interested, to say the least, as the smiles cast in his direction varied between friendly, teasing, and downright seductive. Harry’s groin gave a more noticeable twitch at that, and Harry could only breathlessly wonder why a seductive smile didn’t look ridiculous on the young man’s face – he was only sixteen, after all! – and what he meant by shooting a man he knew only by reputation and who was as old as his own father such a smile.

Somehow, he must have betrayed his thoughts, and Scorpius must have seen it, because the next smile Harry got was downright wicked while after this one, Scorpius returned to friendly, teasing, and even understanding as Harry was still being told all about the Minister’s decisions on departmental fundings.

By the time the dessert was finished and the Ministry elves vanished the dishes, Harry had regained much of his equilibrium, and his groin had stopped twitching with interest. This was probably helped much by the chatterbox sitting next to him who amazingly had managed to vary on the topic of the decorations of the room for almost half an hour. In the end, Harry was glad when the dinner was over. True, he lost his perfect position for watching Scorpius Malfoy, but at least he wouldn’t be exposed to so much mindless stupidity during the following ball.

And at first, he wasn’t, either. After the opening speech of the Minister to all attendees – some of them had not been invited to the dinner – about the occasion of the night’s festivities, Harry spent a relaxed hour dancing first with his wife, then with the wives and girlfriends of his brothers-in-law, with a number of friends, and with his wife again. Then, unfortunately, he had to fulfil his duty and dance with other important witches, and this time he had no Scorpius to watch. He managed five dances with five witches he normally would give a wide berth before he decided he’d need liquid fortification if he wanted to survive the remainder of the evening. He deposited Mrs Evelith, chairwitch of all important charities, at her husband’s side and made good his escape to the bar.

The warmth of one Firewhiskey in his stomach and the promise of another in his glass, Harry relaxed against a corner of the bar and refused to let anyone catch his eyes. He wanted fifteen minutes without mindless chatter, thank you very much. He didn’t even try and see if he could find Scorpius in the throng of people.

He got only thirteen minutes, but the one who interrupted his solitude was Teddy and so Harry didn’t mind. Especially considering that Teddy looked as harried as Harry had felt before his Firewhiskey – hair a mouse-ish brown and face changed into the pinched expression of the classical gout-ridden miser – and that he downed his first one as quickly as Harry had done.

‘If they aren’t careful, we’ll soon have another evil overlord whose aim is to destroy all female chatterboxes on the planet,’ Teddy wheezed as soon as his coughing had stopped.

Harry grinned, patted him on the shoulder, and ordered another Firewhiskey for them.

‘Mrs Croft-Albans?’ he guessed, knowing the matron’s fondness for Teddy that expressed itself in her latching on to him whenever she could and patting his cheek.

‘And her daughter,’ groaned Teddy and accepted the drink. ‘They seemed to think that the fact that Viccy isn’t here tonight means we’ve broken up and that Marianna Croft-Albans is by rule of nature my the best choice now that the way is clear, or something.’

Harry raised his glass. ‘To escaping the chatterboxes.’

‘Hear, hear.’ Teddy grinned and sipped his whiskey. Slowly, his face changed back and his hair turned a more cheerful grass-green.

For a while, the two men enjoyed their drinks in silent, mutual sympathy for the hardships males endured in social life.

Then, someone seemed to catch Teddy’s attention. He straightened from his slouched position next to Harry and narrowed his eyes. The shade of his hair darkened. Harry noticed this unconscious sign that something bothered Teddy and moved to try and see who it was. He got treated to a perfect view of Scorpius Malfoy twirling a forcefully-young witch in too tight dress-robes over the dance-floor.

For a moment, Harry’s brain seemed to stop working as he watched the young man. He had more than his share of grace and danced with effortless ease. He’d probably been taught how to dance before he even went to Hogwarts, Harry thought. He remembered that the young man’s father danced with the same ease when he was fourteen.

But never, ever had Draco Malfoy been able to move like his son did. Harry was willing to bet his father’s Cloak on that. Draco Malfoy never had and never would possess this elegance of movement, this almost sensuous way of gliding through the steps. And making his partner look good, too, no matter how ridiculous and pathetic she was.

For a moment, Harry was almost jealous of that witch.

‘You’ve been eying him all night.’

Teddy’s words made Harry tear his eyes off Scorpius and look at his godson. He had wrinkled his nose and looked ridiculously like his grandmother had done when she had disapproved of young Teddy’s childish antics. The memory made Harry almost smile, but the reprove in Teddy’s voice curbed that impulse.

‘So?’ he asked back, a bit curious about the reason for Teddy’s reaction. It couldn’t be because Harry had been watching a young man. That topic was old, over and done with. Everyone in the family knew and, at least outwardly, accepted. Teddy had never before shown any disapproval for Harry’s preferences. Rather the opposite.

‘So?’ answered Teddy and turned to look at his godfather. ‘You’ve been staring at him all through the speeches! I noticed. You didn’t pay any attention to what was being said.’

He sounded seriously upset, and Harry wondered why. True, the day was the anniversary of his parents’ death, but Teddy had never before been overly bothered. Besides, he knew Harry’s opinion about these grand anniversary celebrations and that this didn’t reflect his private feelings.

‘Why does it bother you so much?’ he finally asked outright. ‘Because I didn’t pay attention? Or because of who he is?’

‘I don’t care about the ruddy speeches or what you do. You could fall asleep for all I care.’

‘But not watch Scorpius Malfoy?’

‘Watch? You’ve been flirting with him!’

Harry blinked at Teddy’s vehemence. And then again at his words. Flirting? Well, yes, now that he thought about it, he probably had been flirting with Scorpius. Not that he’d meant to or that he would take it any further than that, which Teddy ought to know.

‘Yes, all right, flirting with him,’ he agreed. ‘But I still don’t understand why it bothers you so much. It’s not as if you weren’t eying Percy Weasley during his speech or during dinner.’

And Teddy had been eying Percy with clear interest. Despite the time Harry had spent eying Scorpius, he had noticed that. He was a trained and experienced Auror, after all, and he knew how to keep aware of what was happening around him while he seemed focused on something else.

Not that he could fault Teddy for looking. Percy was a delight to look at these days. He had developed from a pompous young twit into a distinguished, self-confident man. Plus, his current girlfriend had forced him into a new haircut and a different model of glasses, and then had revised his wardrobe, to a surprising end-result. Even Ron had to admit that his older brother was handsome.

Teddy flushed lightly. He was as interested in men as in women, though he only ever talked about that openly to Harry. And though eying his girlfriend’s uncle might be a bit odd, Victoire knew and treated it the same way her mother had treated Bill’s werewolf scars.

‘Of course he looks,’ she had told Harry when they had a conversation about Teddy’s recent discovery of his attraction to both sexes. ‘I know he looks. He sometimes even looks at Dad. But he loves me.’ And she had flipped her hair and smiled. Harry had known they would be all right.

Harry nodded at Teddy. ‘You were eying Percy, I was eying Scorpius. You don’t mean to do anything about it, do you? Neither do I.’

Teddy was still frowning. ‘But he’s younger than I am!’ he all but shouted, drawing some glances in their direction. He scowled until everyone had turned away again.

‘He’s seven years younger than I am, Harry,’ he repeated, now in a normal voice though still with a disapproving tone. ‘He’s Al’s age!’

Harry nodded. This seemed to be the real trouble. He could understand, though it was a bit like the pot calling the kettle black.

‘And Percy is older than I am,’ he said gently. Teddy looked sharply at him. ‘Four years older than I am, actually.’

Teddy opened his mouth, closed it, and sighed. He sipped his drink. ‘Yeah, I know,’ he finally said. ‘I know. It’s just … He’s not even of age!’

‘Teddy.’ Harry laid a hand on his godson’s shoulder. ‘I know, believe me. And I really don’t mean to do anything. I’ll probably only see him again in September, when I take Al and Lily to King’s Cross. But I can look and admire him. Just as I can look at any painting and admire it without wanting to have it.’

Teddy sighed again and nodded. ‘Yeah. Just … It’s a bit … weird.’

‘Queer, you mean,’ Harry said dryly, and Teddy laughed.

Their respite was over soon afterwards as Ginny came looking for her husband and dragged him off to dance with her. Afterwards, he had to run the gamut again and dance with more Ministry witches and chatty society wives. But this time, he kept his eyes open and from time to time managed to get a glimpse of Scorpius. It turned the trial into something of a treasure hunt, and Harry loved it. Or rather, he could bear the flirtations and innuendoes of far too many of his partners.

It was close to midnight before he could escape again. Scanning the dance-floor for Ginny, he found her dancing happily with of one her male Quidditch colleagues. She didn’t look like she wanted to leave any time soon. Harry sighed and decided to find himself a place to hide until the end of the evening.

This was easier said than done, because wherever he went witches and wizards stopped him, wanting to talk or waiting to be asked to dance. He had hoped to find a dark niche from where he could watch the dance-floor – and Scorpius – but regretfully dropped the idea. He’d find no peace if he stayed inside. But the Ministry Banqueting Hall had a small garden, and Harry decided to hide there. He’d get some fresh air, too. After some manoeuvring and with judicious use of a potted palm, he made it to the doors to the terrace and outside.

The night was not clear and balmy but cloudy and threatening rain. A cool wind made the multicoloured torches placed around the terrace flicker and sputter. It was perfect – no one but a small group of youngsters trading something smoking between them was outside, and they left quickly after they had seen him and one of the witches had squealed, ‘Auror Potter!’

Harry grinned to himself as he strolled to the balustrade and leaned onto it, looking into the dark garden. He had no interest in young people smoking Herbs of Venus, or whatever the latest version of the stuff was called. Besides, they were all of age. Probably the only person under the age of seventeen present tonight was Scorpius Malfoy, and perhaps his escort, and he was here only because the Malfoy family insisted on making a statement.

The thought of Scorpius Malfoy recalled Harry’s earlier conversation with Teddy. Yes, he could understand Teddy being squeamish about Harry eying the young man. If any adult man had eyed his son, Harry probably would have had a tense conversation with that man. But then, none of his sons would have encouraged an adult man like Scorpius had done, either.

Harry sighed and leaned heavily onto the balustrade. The problem here was not that he had been flirting with Scorpius. No harm done there. Scorpius was a beautiful young man, and Harry liked looking at beautiful young men. Plus, the young man in question had been willing enough to play the game during the speeches and dinner. Looking wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t forbidden.

The problem that Teddy’s reaction had made him see more clearly was the flashes of lust Harry had felt. He could admire a young man and get away with it. Like he had told Teddy, looking and admiring didn’t mean having to possess. Looking was okay; lusting after a boy his son’s age was not.

But, if he was honest with himself, it wasn’t the first time he had felt sexual desire for a man far too young for him. The first and most memorable of these had been the young man who’d been Head Boy in Teddy’s first year at Hogwarts. Paul Mulligan had been his name, Harry remembered, a truly beautiful boy with dark, curly hair and blue eyes. He had been shy and a little awkward around Harry, but neither awed silent nor the least bit sycophantic. Harry had liked him instantly, and over the drama in Teddy’s first year, they’d had a lot of contact.

Teddy had not inherited the werewolf curse from his father. He had never displayed any of the symptoms. He was perfectly safe and none of his year-mates – or their parents – had made the least trouble. But there had been a group of older Slytherin boys who remembered that Teddy’s father had been a werewolf. And they had teased Teddy with it, tried to frighten other students and generally cause trouble until poor Teddy, scared and harassed, had tried to make his Metamorph-abilities adopt a wolf-shape to frighten the Slytherins.

But Metamorphmagi could not transform randomly into animals, except if they had also mastered the Animagus Transformation, and Teddy got stuck mid-way in a truly terrible form that was neither human nor lupine. Andromeda had been ill at the time and so Harry had come to Hogwarts to try and calm Teddy so that he could change back. It had taken several days and severe punishment of the Slytherin boys until Teddy had calmed down sufficiently.

During those days, Harry had had a lot of contact with Paul Mulligan, who had noticed early what the Slytherins were doing and had tried his best to help and protect Teddy. He blamed himself a good deal for not having alerted Teddy’s or the Slytherins’ Head of House earlier. He and Harry had taken turns talking to Teddy and watching while the poor boy slept. And during one night, while they had talked, Harry had realised that he really wanted to kiss the young man. And then push him down on the next available bed and do more than kissing.

He hadn’t done either, too stunned by his realisation. Harry had done a lot of thinking that night, though, and some soul-searching and an interview with Professor Dumbledore’s portrait later he had to face the fact that he was attracted to men. Always had been to some extend, but had never realised it. He didn’t know what to do.

It was just his luck that the next day, Ginny had come to Hogwarts, with a basket full of sweets and toys for Teddy and the question when her husband could be expected back home. It was just his luck that she walked into the blanketed-off part of the Infirmary when Paul had been bending over Teddy on the bed and Harry had been staring hungrily at Paul’s arse.

Ginny had seen and she had not been delighted. At least she had waited yelling until Harry had come home.

After the loud and massive row that ended with a short trip for Ginny to St. Mungo’s – she had tried to hex her husband, and his Auror reflexes had kicked in – Harry had tried for years to deny the fact that he was attracted to males, and Ginny had tried to deny that she knew. But when, five years later, Harry had ended up drunken and snogging a guy at the big party celebrating England winning the Quidditch World Cup and Ginny walked in on them, neither of them had been able to keep the denial up.

These days, Harry didn’t have to hide his fascination with young men from Ginny anymore. She knew all about it and had become resigned to the fact that her husband liked men, liked looking at them, liked touching them. She had long ago come to accept that she had married a man who had never had time to think about himself, and therefore had never had time to realise that, as much as girls excited his teenager hormones, he had only ever been able to truly relate to men.

There had been rough times before they had come to this present state. Ginny had been mad as a hag when she had caught Harry admiring Teddy, and the first two years after the grand realisation she had not been able to accept Harry finding pleasure with someone else. But they had made it through, and today they were, once again, happily married. They were partners and friends; they just weren’t lovers anymore.

It worked perfectly. As long as Harry only looked in public and did everything else in private and discretely, she didn’t bother, and when she came home from a weekend with her Quidditch colleagues with a hickey under her left ear, Harry only grinned and asked her if she’d had a good time.

She didn’t even go mad when she noticed him eying a young man. By now she knew that he might look but would never touch. And that family was strictly out of bounds. She knew that for all that Harry had looked at and admired Teddy – still looked at and admired him – he had never touched him in any sexual way. He was Teddy’s father figure, his godfather and honorary uncle and his friend, but never had he desired to be Teddy’s lover.

Or the lover of any of the other young men that had caught his attention over the years. He liked looking at them, but his lovers had always been adult men. The youngest of the bunch had been twenty-five and fifteen years younger than Harry. Having so late come to an understanding of his sexuality himself, Harry was reluctant to become close to anyone who wasn’t absolutely sure and comfortable with it.

And that made his present lust for Scorpius Malfoy all the more worrying. Well, the young man might be sure and comfortable with the idea of loving men. But he was still a young man, not yet of age, the son of Harry’s former schoolmate and therefore totally out of bounds for him.

Harry shouldn’t lust after him. He should remember his principles and have better control over his libido. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, after all.

But remembering the way Scorpius moved on the dance-floor, Harry couldn’t suppress the tingling twitch in his groin.

He wanted Scorpius.

With a groan, Harry let his face fall forward into his hands. ‘Fuck,’ he growled indistinctly.

A sudden, cold blow almost extinguished the torches and pressed Harry’s robes against his body. He shivered and straightened, casting a glance at the sky. He probably should go inside, seek Ginny and then get the hell out of here. Oh, and make sure that what he told Teddy about seeing Scorpius again would be true.

The faint sound of the doors being closed behind him made Harry turn, half expecting to see either Ginny or Hermione about to scold him for hiding, for hiding outside, and for being outside for so long. But it wasn’t either of them.

It was Scorpius.

He stood motionless on the steps that lead down to the terrace and looked at Harry. Behind him, the curtains didn’t close the light of the Banqueting Hall off entirely, and a single ray made his hair shine like moonlight. The flickering torches cast dancing spots of coloured light over his face, incongruously highlighting his deep blue eyes.

He looked as though Harry’s desire had conjured him up, and for several moments, all Harry could do was look up at him and try to remember how to breathe.

Then, Scorpius smiled and came down the steps towards Harry. ‘I saw you leave earlier,’ he said, ‘but when you didn’t come back, I began wondering whether you had escaped via the garden gate.’

‘There’s a garden gate?’ Harry asked stupidly, and at Scorpius’s widening smile, he tried to pull himself together. ‘Uh, perhaps I should have used it. I’d rather not go back in.’ He grimaced, trying to make the situation seem a lot more normal and a lot less … private than it was.

Scorpius grinned. ‘Hm, yes, you didn’t seem very happy, Mr Potter. In fact, you looked as if you’d rather hunt a rogue Dark wizard than dance again with Mrs Pealbrooke, if you don’t mind me saying that.’

‘I’d much rather hunt a dozen Dark wizards through a Lethifold-infected underground labyrinth, if you don’t mind me saying that,’ Harry grumbled. ‘At least I’d be allowed to hex them.’

Scorpius laughed, and Harry discovered that not only had Scorpius a beautiful laugh, but also that it made him hard.

Then he discovered that Scorpius was standing pretty close to him and that he could smell the young man’s discreet aftershave. And that the combination of the promising hint of body heat and that aftershave made him even harder.

Harry took a step back, leaning against the balustrade. ‘You, um, looked quite at ease in there,’ he said just to say something and ignore the tightening of his trousers.

Scorpius cocked his head questioningly. It made him look adorable.

‘You dance very well,’ Harry burst out.

Scorpius smiled and moved to lean nonchalantly next to Harry against the balustrade. ‘Oh, I’ve had dancing lessons since I was about able to walk, I think. Grandmother insisted. She said it was a skill all Malfoy men learnt and learnt young. Mother couldn’t protest, really, because she likes dancing with Father.’

‘He could dance when he was fourteen,’ Harry said mindlessly, in an attempt to ignore that they were even closer now than before.

‘Oh? Did you see him, then? I didn’t know there used to be balls at Hogwarts. It was at Hogwarts, right?’

‘Yes. They had reinstated the Triwizard Tournament in my fourth year, and part of that was a Yule Ball.’

Scorpius cast him a shrewd look. ‘And you didn’t like it.’

Harry, glad there was something innocent they could talk about, even though he wondered why they were talking about it, willingly answered.

‘Oh, no, I didn’t like it at all! Apart from the fact that I didn’t know how to dance and didn’t do well during lessons. I had to know, you see, because the Champions were meant to open the dance and unfortunately, that included me.’ Harry shuddered. ‘But almost worse than making a fool of myself in front of the school was asking a girl out to the ball. It took me weeks to find the courage, and then someone else had asked her, of course.’

He shrugged and grinned a bit. Today he could talk about that time without difficulties, even though the memory included not only all the embarrassing moments with Cho but also the painful memories of Cedric.

‘Why did it take you so long?’ Scorpius asked, sounding genuinely curious. ‘Didn’t you think she’d want to go with you? I mean, you are after all famous. And you were a Hogwarts Champion.’

Harry looked at the young man in surprise. ‘Your father didn’t tell you?’

‘Tell me what?’

Harry sighed and leaned his head back. ‘Oh, at the time, I wasn’t very popular. Most people thought I’d somehow managed to cheat myself into the Tournament. Turned out a Death Eater did that for me, but at Christmas, no one knew that yet.’

‘And so you thought the girl wouldn’t want to go with you?’

‘Yeah.’ Well, kind of, anyway. No need to tell Scorpius about Cedric.

‘She can’t have been very nice, then,’ Scorpius said decisively, and Harry blinked at him. ‘Did you find a nice girl?’

Harry grimaced in remembered ruefulness. ‘I found a girl all right.’

‘Was she pretty?’ Scorpius interjected.

‘Pre—? Oh, yes, I suppose she was.’

‘You suppose?’

Harry shrugged. ‘I didn’t much care for the ball anymore.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Scorpius nodded. ‘And that was when you saw my father dance, yes?’

Harry nodded. ‘Yes, well, since I spent most of the ball sitting at one of the tables and watch the others have fun.’ And why was he telling the boy that?

Scorpius grinned. ‘Who would have thought? The famous Harry Potter, a wallflower!’ He laughed teasingly at Harry’s scowl and then bent unexpectedly closer. ‘But that explains why you don’t like balls,’ he said in an almost whisper.

Harry, bemused at Scorpius’s antics, shook his head. ‘Oh, no, that’s not the reason. It’s more witches like Mrs Pealbrooke that make me dislike balls. Or, rather, the fact that I’m obliged to dance with witches like Mrs Pealbrooke.’

‘Oh? And who’d you rather dance with?’ Scorpius asked, a strangely intent expression on his face.

‘Well, only with those people I wanted to, of course,’ Harry answered, baffled.

‘Ah.’ Scorpius nodded and straightened. ‘Yes, that would be lovely.’ He lowered his lashes and gave Harry a seductive glance, complete with knee-buckling smile. And Harry’s knees promptly tried to buckle while his prick leapt and stiffened. Harry breathlessly cursed his various body parts and again wondered how the young man could pull this off without seeming ridiculous.

Scorpius’s smile grew and he leant forward until his face was so close to Harry’s that Harry felt Scorpius’s breath as he spoke.

‘I would have loved to dance with you,’ the young man said in a husky whisper. ‘It is such a pity that one cannot dance with whom one wants to dance in there. But out here … I want to dance with you. Very much. Please. Harry. Dance with me.’

Harry tried to swallow but his mouth was very dry. ‘D-dance with you?’ His voice was a raspy croak as his body – and imagination – reacted to the words. ‘H-here? Now?’

‘Here. Now.’

‘But …’ Harry tried to collect his thoughts.

‘Yes?’

It proved impossible with Scorpius so close. With Scorpius so close and looking at him with this intense expression in his eyes.

‘But … I can’t, I mean … It would look odd. And, and … We’re both men.’

Scorpius smiled. ‘No one will see. The drapes are pulled close and it’s so cold, no one will come outside. Please, Harry.’

The way Scorpius said his name made Harry forget that the young man shouldn’t be calling him by his name.

‘The steps …’ he managed.

‘I can do the witch’s steps,’ Scorpius said softly.

Harry took a deep breath, decided to ignore the part of his brain that told him not to do that, and gave in to the desire to dance with Scorpius. He stepped closer to the young man, taking his hand, and laid his left hand on Scorpius’s shoulder. Then he strained to listen for the music that was coming faintly through the closed doors. It was a slow, simple dance, and after a moment’s hesitation, Harry began to move, leading Scorpius into the first pattern of steps.

At first, it was very odd to dance with a man. Scorpius was a little taller than Harry, so Harry had to hold both his hands higher than he usually had to. Also, the young man felt different in his arms, different and disturbingly delicious. But by concentrating on the steps and on leading his partner, Harry managed to control his libido. After a while, as he got used to the feeling of Scorpius moving with him, he even began to relax and realised that he enjoyed dancing with a man.

He had never before danced with any of his partners, at least not a formal dance. There was always the problem of who leading whom, and Harry – usually the smaller one – was simply too bad at dancing to be able to switch into the witch’s steps. But Scorpius could do it, and he didn’t have a problem doing, and he was an excellent dancer.

Yes, Harry thought, if I could dance with him at Ministry balls, I wouldn’t mind them at all. Probably like them even.

They swayed over the terrace, silent as they had to listen carefully to the music. Harry was thankful because he couldn’t have spared the attention; he was busy listening and avoiding bumping into the railing and enjoying the warmth and feeling of Scorpius.

The dance ended and another slow one began. Without talking, they began to move again as the music set in. Harry looked up into Scorpius’s face and saw the young man watch him through half-closed eyes and with a small smile on his lips. Lips, Harry realised, that were far too close to his own to be safe for his sanity. Lips that parted under his eyes and revealed the hint of a tongue. Lips he really, really wanted to kiss.

The sudden desire was so strong that Harry stumbled slightly. Their bodies pressed together, and Harry felt a hardness press against his stomach that couldn’t be Scorpius’s wand.

He gasped as his cock strained against his trousers towards the mate it hungered for. He made an instinctive move to press closer to Scorpius, to rub their cocks together, but a low moan from the young man made him realise what he was doing.

Horrified with himself, his earlier words to Teddy ringing loud and reproachfully in his ears, he tried to pull back. Scorpius seemed to have anticipated the reaction for he tightened the arm he had wrapped around Harry’s waist and grabbed Harry’s shoulder with the other.

‘Scorpius.’ Harry’s voice was too much like a needy moan and too little like the stern command it was meant to be for Harry’s liking.

Of course the young man ignored it.

‘Kiss me, Harry,’ he breathed. His breath fanned warmly over Harry’s face.

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head.

‘Please,’ said the incubus in his arms.

‘Scorpius, stop!’ Harry forced himself to say.

‘I don’t want to stop. Do you?’

Harry finally managed to pull back a bit. ‘What I want is unimportant.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ Scorpius said with a teasing smile and rolled his hips so that his arousal briefly pressed against Harry’s once more. And while the move made Harry moan almost inaudibly low in his throat it also cleared his head sufficiently.

He pulled out of Scorpius’s embrace entirely, despite the young man’s attempts to hold him, and held him at arm’s length.

‘No, you wouldn’t,’ he said softly. ‘I probably wouldn’t have at your age either. But I’m old enough now to know better.’

Scorpius scowled at him, and Harry found the teenager in the seducer. ‘You’re not going to give me a lecture about how I’m too young to know what I want and all that rot, are you?’

He sounded so very much like Harry’s sons that Harry couldn’t help grinning. He let go of Scorpius and, although his cock rubbed painfully against the seam of his trousers, he stepped away.

‘No, I won’t, since apparently you’ve already heard it more than once.’

Scorpius huffed and plopped down on the balustrade. Then he winced and shifted a bit, and Harry had to bite back another moan at the sight of the young man adjusting himself.

‘Why is it that people above a certain age always think they know everything better?’ Scorpius complained. Now he sounded a lot like the young Draco Malfoy did in Harry’s memories. And although he perfectly understood Scorpius’s frustration – and in more than the physical sense of denied desire; he had been sixteen once and had felt as though the adults around didn’t take him serious – he refused to explain and only shrugged.

‘Because they generally do.’

Scorpius glared at him. He could do that a lot better than his father. ‘“Generally”, yes, perhaps. But I’m not a child, you know. I know what I want. I want you!’

Harry had to swallow at that outright declaration, but thought it wiser to ignore it otherwise.

‘I know you’re not a child, Scorpius,’ he said gently. The young man huffed. Harry smiled at his expression. ‘Oh, yes, I know. I remember being sixteen. I know you’re not a child at sixteen. And I also remember how maddening it was when the adults around me told me I didn’t know a fig about what was going on and that I’d better keep my nose out of things that didn’t concern me.’

Scorpius had stopped scowling and was listening intently.

‘I never did, though,’ Harry went on with a shrug. ‘You can probably read that in every history book concerning the Second War. But just because I never did doesn’t mind I shouldn’t have. I should have listened.’

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath and gently let go of Sirius’s memory. He looked back at Scorpius, who was watching him with an all too understanding expression. Harry smiled sadly.

‘So,’ he said, ‘you see that I’m not telling you I know better because I think you’re a child. I’d never … But that’s neither here nor there. You’re a fine young man, Scorpius. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you and very much aware of … of how impossible this is.’

Scorpius’s expression had gone back to mulish. ‘I know you’re older. That’s why … I mean, of course I know. And I know all about the “we can’t be doing this” reasons. I’m not stupid. I’m not of age; you went to school with my father, and so on.’

‘If you know, then why—?’

‘Because I want you. And yes, I know what I’m talking about! I’m not a shy, blushing virgin, Harry. Neither am I a deluded romantic who thinks he’s met his One True Love. I know all about the difficulties and I fucking don’t care because I want you!’

‘Then I have to care for both of us,’ Harry replied softly.

Scorpius growled, and then moved so fast Harry had no chance to react. In one moment, the young man was sitting on the balustrade a few steps away, the next moment he had Harry backed up against it, had his body pressed against Harry’s and was staring down at him with a fire in his eyes that was mixed fury and desire.

‘My father said you had a thing for saving people,’ he said in a low voice. Harry could feel his body vibrating with emotions, and he couldn’t stop his own reaction. ‘Will you please stop trying to save me and allow me to make my own decisions?’

‘Scorpius,’ Harry began, putting his hands on the young man’s shoulders. ‘I’m not—’

‘You are,’ interrupted Scorpius. ‘You are, and my father is, and my mother is, too. Everyone is, seems like. My father may talk about me making my own decisions and not following slavishly with everything he does, but the moment I make a decision, he’s up in arms against it and forbids me to even think about it. How does that fit? It doesn’t and you know what? Adults aren’t perfect. Being of age doesn’t mean you can automatically make the right decisions. Adults don’t know everything either.’

‘Scorpius, I know that, I—’

‘Then stop trying to tell me my choice is wrong!’

Choices? Was it really only about choices, Harry wondered dimly, unable to think straight with the young man pressed to close to his body. Choices … Harry had been making choices – and important choices – since he’d been eleven. If he could have done that then, why not trust Scorpius now?

But no, wasn’t this rather about not taking advantage of the young man? Scorpius said he knew what he wanted. Harry couldn’t find it in him to doubt that. Scorpius was so sure of himself. But did that make it right?

Harry felt confused. It would be much easier to think this through if what Scorpius was saying wouldn’t sound so reasonable and logical to Harry; if what he wanted wasn’t so much what Harry wanted; if he weren’t all but wrapped around Harry’s body.

‘Harry,’ Scorpius said softly. His voice was low and seductive again. Harry looked up into Scorpius’s blue eyes. ‘Kiss me, Harry.’

This time, Harry didn’t even think about trying to resist. The feeling of this firm, young body against his, the heat and the smell of Scorpius, his warm breath on Harry’s face and his luscious lips so close to his … It was too much, and Harry gave in, tilted his head up, and kissed Scorpius.

And it was glorious.

Scorpius’s lips were soft, yielding. His body in contrast was hard, and he felt so right in Harry’s arms that had come up and wrapped around the young man’s shoulders without Harry noticing. He kissed Scorpius again. And again. And then he had one hand holding Scorpius’s neck, tilting his head just so, the other hand cupping Scorpius’s arse through his robes, and his tongue was in Scorpius’s mouth, and was kissing him passionately.

Scorpius moaned and shivered and tried to press closer against Harry. His hands were running feverishly up and down Harry’s back, touching and stroking, learning the feel of his body. Scorpius’s hips were soon moving rhythmically against Harry, but with the difference in their heights, the angle wasn’t right, and the young man whimpered in frustration.

Harry groaned and broke the kiss, shocked and aroused. He didn’t want to, he yearned to get lost in Scorpius’s heat and his body but Teddy’s reproachful words came back to him. ‘Oh, stop, Scorpius, stop! This is madness.’

‘I want you,’ was his whispered answer. ‘Wanted you for so long.’

Harry dug his fingers into Scorpius’s shoulders, casting about madly to think of something to say to stop this. He had to stop this, now, he couldn’t resist much longer, he wanted Scorpius so fiercely.

‘You … you don’t even know me. Scorpius,’ he gasped. ‘Tonight … tonight’s the first time we even talked to each other!’

Scorpius raised his head and looked at Harry. He was flushed and his hair was dishevelled. ‘That’s not true,’ he said huskily, and then smiled his stunning smile. Harry was glad he was pressed against the balustrade. It provided balance. ‘You know a little about me, and I about you, and the rest we can work out.’

Harry feebly shook his head, clinging onto his resolve by the skin of his teeth. ‘I don’t know you. Know nothing about you.’

Scorpius laughed softly and kissed him. ‘Come on, don’t lie. You don’t know nothing about me!’ He grinned at Harry, a teasing spark in his eyes. ‘I’m in the paper often enough, Granddad makes sure of it. Drives Father batty. And I’m sure Al wrote about me, considering we’ve been partners in Advanced Transfiguration for the better part of last year.’ He gave Harry an absurdly knowing look that made Harry blush. ‘Didn’t he?’

‘Yes, he did, but—’

‘Thought so. We get along pretty well. He told me some things about you, too, and I’m sure he mentioned me to you. So, you see, you know something about me. You may not know what my favourite vegetable is but I’m sure you know about Granddad’s rows with Father about how to raise me, what Father’s decisions were, and that I’m glad about them.’

He raised his eyebrows and, suddenly, he looked very much like his father, superior smirk and all. Harry smiled shakily back but shook his head. ‘Just bits and pieces—’

‘That’s how things start.’

‘But you don’t know me, Scorpius,’ Harry stubbornly protested, not able to think of anything else to say. His legendary ability to think on his feet seemed to have deserted him. However, the moment he’d said it, he felt an almost nostalgic sadness. No, the young man didn’t know him, couldn’t know him, not the real Harry, only the famous Harry Potter. He raised one hand to Scorpius’s face and brushed his fingers over the young man’s slightly stubbly cheeks and his smooth lips.

Scorpius snapped for Harry’s fingers and then sucked them into his mouth, his eyes dancing with laughter as Harry moaned.

‘Oh, I know you,’ Scorpius said after he had relinquished Harry’s fingers.

‘From Al and rumours and books—’

‘Not only. Oh, you’d be surprised how willing certain Hogwarts ghosts and house-elves are to talk about you.’ He winked as Harry’s eyes widened. ‘Some teachers, too. Hagrid especially.’ Scorpius laughed. ‘Father had a fit when I chose Care of Magical Creatures. Said Hagrid wasn’t much of a teacher. He didn’t know that by then, Creatures wasn’t so much about the beasts but a full-blown class on all things Harry Potter. All you need to know is how to make Hagrid talk, and then he’ll go on for hours. He knows all about every single Quidditch match you played at Hogwarts, and I swear he learnt Filch’s detention files by heart!’

Harry gaped in shocked discomfiture – none of his children had ever mentioned that! – and Scorpius seized the opportunity to kiss him again. ‘Besides,’ he murmured against Harry’s lips, ‘I don’t have to know you by heart, Harry. I don’t want to marry you. No, right now I want to fuck you, and you really don’t have to know me for that.’

He stopped Harry’s spluttering with another kiss, and this time he gave Harry no further opportunity to protest. And, after a few moments, Harry couldn’t even think about protesting any more. His every critical facility was blown away by Scorpius’s kiss and his determined touch and the way his breathing hitched every time Harry squeezed his arse.

It was magnificent. It was mind-blowing. But soon it wasn’t enough anymore. Harry’s cock was aching and he was desperate for friction. Scorpius felt the same, judging by the way he bucked his hips and twisted against Harry, keening low in his throat with need. The sound seemed to be directly connected to Harry’s prick, and each time Scorpius whimpered, it throbbed a little harder.

Harry leaned into Scorpius, rolling his hips, but it was no use. The few inches Scorpius had on him prevented Harry to get the kind of contact, the kind of friction he needed. With an impatient growl, Harry grabbed Scorpius’s shoulders and then twisted on the spot, drawing the young man with him.

Scorpius, surprised by the move and off-balance, stumbled, and fell back against the balustrade. The next second, Harry had pushed him back onto it and had stepped between Scorpius’s legs. Bending forward, Harry forced Scorpius to lean back further, then grabbed one slender hip and jerked it up and against his. Both men groaned loudly when, finally, their cocks pressed together.

Harry’s breath hissed through his teeth. A shiver ran through him and his knees almost buckled. Even through their clothes between them, the feeling was wonderful. The hardness of Scorpius’s desire rubbing against his own felt like every wish he ever had come true. Scorpius’s breath was shallow and his frantic movements now devoid of their earlier grace, and Harry wanted more.

He thrust one hand between their moving hips and groped for Scorpius’s groin. The young man’s breath hitched and he all but squeaked as Harry impatiently tugged his robes open and then dug through his underwear to close his hand around Scorpius’s cock.

Scorpius’s head fell back and he moaned. ‘Ohh, Harry … oh, yes …’

Harry bit his lips to stop himself from coming. Hot and hard and faintly slick, Scorpius’s cock felt incredible in his hand. He stroked it, squeezed it, rubbed his thumb over its leaking head. Scorpius gasped and bucked into his touch.

‘Oh, f-fuck, oh—’

He had to feel it against his own hardened flesh. He needed the feeling of Scorpius’s skin on his, sliding hot and wet against Harry’s prick. With shaking hands, Harry pulled on his own robes and with a delirious moan, Scorpius leaned forwards to help him. Together, they freed Harry’s cock and then Harry pressed forwards again, forwards and into Scorpius and their cocks touched.

Harry almost stumbled backwards as Scorpius thrust against him. He was panting, breathy little moans that made Harry wild. He wrapped his hand around them both and tugged. Scorpius threw his head back and shouted. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, almost whimpering. It felt so good, so damn good, here on the cool terrace with their robes half-undone and bits of fabric getting in the way and he never wanted it to end.

Scorpius pushed one arm back to support himself and curled the other one around Harry’s neck. His hips thrust forwards demandingly.

‘Harry, Harry, ohh, H-harry…’

They moved together, against each other, thrusting into Harry’s hand holding them close. It didn’t take long now that both men finally got what each of them had secretly hungered for all through the evening. Heat. Touch. Friction. And the blinding bliss of release.

Scorpius came first, almost crying as his seed shot over Harry’s hand and robes. Harry grunted and tugged a few more times before his breath caught and his body shuddered in release. He slumped forwards onto Scorpius, who fell back onto the balustrade. The young man wrapped his arms and legs around Harry and clung tight. Harry moaned softly into Scorpius’s soft hair as the last, pleasant aftershocks tingled through him. Scorpius nibbled on Harry’s ear.

‘Hmm, that was brilliant,’ he sighed in satisfaction. Harry grunted in agreement and rubbed his cheek against Scorpius’s neck.

They staid like this and would probably have done so longer had not a sudden, cold gust reminded Harry just where he was. Head suddenly all too clear, Harry gasped in shock and abruptly pulled back from Scorpius.

‘Harry?’

Taking a step back, Harry stared, wide-eyed, first at the young man laid out before him, robes half open, softening cock exposed, a number of telling stains splattered over the expensive fabric. Pushing himself up on one arm and regarding him with a questioning expression on his handsome face. Behind him echoed the merry laughter of the revellers.

‘Oh God,’ Harry moaned.

‘Harry?’ Scorpius sounded alarmed.

Harry shook his head and peered down at himself, equally dishevelled and exposed and even more splattered than Scorpius. ‘How … How could I do this? With you! Here!’

Scorpius sat up, frowning. ‘You aren’t going to blame yourself, are you? I had some part in this too, you know.’

Harry swallowed, hard, and fumbled for his wand. After casting a series of quick Cleaning Charms over them both and their robes, he hastily tucked himself in and tried to shake the wrinkles out of his robes. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so embarrassed and guilty and ashamed and satiated. How could he have done this?

‘Oh God, how could I…’ he stammered. ‘I shouldn’t … How could I do this? Anyone could have come out and seen us!’

Scorpius grinned and slowly began to dress himself. ‘Father says Gryffindors are brave and daring and jump into things before thinking.’

Harry cast him a sharp glance which Scorpius answered with an exaggeratedly innocent expression. ‘You planned on this!’

Scorpius wiggled his fingers at Harry. ‘Slytherin.’

‘I’m going to strangle your father!’

Scorpius had the gall to laugh at that.

‘Well, I’m glad he told me all those things about you,’ he said and hopped down from the balustrade. Stepping closer to Harry, he smiled his seductive smile again. ‘I could never regret it,’ he added softly.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He felt the sudden urge to take Scorpius in his arms and kiss him and tell him … what? He shook his head.

‘Do you regret it?’ At Scorpius’s question, Harry looked back up at him. The young man suddenly appeared nervous. His blue eyes were strangely vulnerable. Harry sighed.

‘I… No. I regret I was weak enough to give in but …’

Then he was enveloped in Scorpius’s embrace. ‘You aren’t weak,’ he heard whispered against his ear. ‘You succumbed to superior Slytherin strategies.’

Harry had to laugh a little at this. ‘That’s not an excuse.’

‘Of course it is.’ Scorpius raised his head. This time, his smile was simple, wide and genuine and utterly lovely. ‘Slytherin strategies and the Malfoy charm. My mother tells me they are irresistible.’

Harry snorted. ‘I always found it very easy to resist your father’s “charm”.’

‘Because he never tried it on you,’ Scorpius answered simply, then added with sudden fierceness, ‘And I’m glad that he didn’t!’

‘Scorpius …’

The young man smiled, shook his head and gently let Harry go. With a look to the closed doors behind Harry, he said, ‘We’d better go back inside, don’t you think? Someone is bound to miss us.’

Harry nodded, relieved that Scorpius acted so normal. He turned to go, but half-way he was stopped by Scorpius’s hand on his arm.

‘Harry,’ the young man began, somewhat hesitantly, but with a hint of his seductive smile. ‘Can you find a reason to come to Hogwarts next weekend? It’s the last Quidditch match of the season. I’m playing. We could … talk some, afterwards.’

Harry’s spent cock gave a feeble twitch. For a second, he imagined himself going to Hogwarts, watching Scorpius on a broom, and then meet with him, afterwards, celebrate a victory or console a loser … Then, he got himself firmly back under control.

‘No,’ he said decisively. ‘No, I won’t come. We can’t do this again, Scorpius.’

Scorpius pouted adorably. ‘But I really liked it, Harry. I want to do it again. Soon.’

Harry firmly wrestled his fantasy to the ground. ‘We can’t do it again. I won’t. No, Scorpius, I won’t argue about this. No is no.’

Scorpius flinched at Harry’s tone and stepped back, letting go of Harry’s arm. ‘Ah, of course,’ he said softly, and in front of Harry’s eyes, the desirable young man became a very correct Malfoy. ‘My apologies, Mr Potter.’

He made to walk past Harry. This time, it was Harry who stopped him with a hand on his arm.

‘Please don’t, Scorpius.’ It hurt to see him like this. It hurt even more because Harry knew he had hurt Scorpius by his harsh tone. He wanted to say something to take away the hurt, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let Scorpius know. But the young man was still stiff with suppressed emotions.

‘Don’t be so angry with me,’ Harry said softly. ‘I cannot, Scorpius. You must see this. You aren’t of age, only sixteen. You are still so young … and I am more than twice your age! Surely you understand how … how impossible this is.’

Scorpius smiled thinly. ‘Father also says that Gryffindors are noble and born martyrs.’

‘Scorpius…’

The young man shook his head and stepped back, out of Harry’s grasp. ‘It’s all right. I understand.’

Harry wasn’t so sure he did. But he couldn’t think of anything else to say that would make Scorpius understand while not hurting him more. Only one thing, and he couldn’t say that. Not while Scorpius was technically still a boy. He smiled weakly.

‘Well, then, perhaps you’d best go in first, and I’ll follow later,’ he said.

Scorpius nodded, but he didn’t seem to have heard Harry. He was looking at Harry with a curious, almost searching expression on his face. Then, he gave a slow nod. His cool, formal posture melted. And then a small smile curled his lips.

‘Yes,’ he said, in a lilting voice. ‘Yes, all right.’ He paused, then went on, ‘So, I’ll see you next year then, I suppose.’

Harry blinked, and then understood. All kinds of things ran through his head but he didn’t say any of them. He didn’t think it would be necessary. One year was quite long when one was so young as Scorpius was. In one year’s time, he might have lost interest in Harry. The thought didn’t sit well with Harry, but he pushed it aside and held out his hand.

‘In one year then, Scorpius.’

When the young man took his hand, Harry gave in to the temptation and lifted it to his lips to press a short kiss onto Scorpius’s fingers. It made his blue eyes glow and he seemed about to say something more, but then only nodded and stepped back. Quickly, he ran up the stairs to the terrace doors. There he stopped and turned. The light from the Banqueting Hall illuminated his face. He looked like a mischievous angel.

‘Will you dance with me then, Mr Potter?’

Harry laughed, feeling unaccountably light and happy, and waved the young man off. ‘I’ll think about it.’

Scorpius grinned. ‘Please, do.’ Then he opened the door and slipped inside.

Harry leaned back against the balustrade and glanced up at the dark, cloudy sky. His body was still throbbing faintly with remembered pleasure. For him, a year wasn’t long. And when he’d see Scorpius again … Well, he would still be so much younger than Harry that it would be like taking advantage, not to forget that his father would still be Draco Malfoy. But Scorpius would be of age. And Harry had learned to be discreet.

He closed his eyes and smiled, already looking forward to next year’s Ministry Ball.

End.