saying that your dad has used Unforgivables on you?"

She didn't look up at them. "I don't think he would ever stop wanting to exert power over the people in his control."

"So that's a yes? Iset, this is really serious. You can tell me the truth and I promise I won't let him hurt you. Is that what you're worried about? That he'll hurt you?"

She dropped her hands down into her lap. She glanced nervously up at Harry.

"I don't want to talk about it," she told him shakily.

"Iset, I can help—!" Harry's voice rose in volume, not out of anger, but out of urgency. Unfortunately, that did little to help matters. Iset flinched horribly.

"Uncle Harry, she said she doesn't want to talk about it!" Rose snapped.

"I—okay, sorry, I just..." Harry looked bewildered and lost. He exchanged a look with Scorpius's dad. Draco frowned back.

"Why don't we talk about...something else?" Nora suggested.

"Yeah," James agreed immediately. "Who's coming to our Halloween party?"

They spent the rest of the allotted time talking half-heartedly about Halloween. When the discussion hour ended, Iset was the first to rise and hurry from the Great Hall. Evvie Wilson and Nora were up and after her in a second.

"What are they doing?" Rose demanded. "Iset doesn't want to talk."

"They're doing their thing," James said. "Let them. Nora can get anybody to talk. She's amazing like that."

Ben wrapped his arm around Rose's shoulders, stopping her from storming after Iset and Evvie. Rose glared up at him.

"It'll be okay. Evvie deals with the most stubborn of all students on a daily basis; she knows what she's doing."

Rose pushed Ben's arm off. "Iset isn't stubborn, Iset is sensible. You don't know enough to understand the full picture."

And with that, she took off after Iset, Nora, and Evvie. Ben and James exchanged a look.

"Should we follow?" James asked.

"Where else would we go?" Ben pointed out.

"Fair point."

The two headed towards the door. Scorpius looked down at Albus.

"Well. I think we know why and how Iset knew so much about the Imperius Curse."

Albus shook his head, his eyes still chained on the door. "Rose should've let Nora and Evvie talk some sense into her. She needs to tell my dad what's going on."

"Probably doesn't trust him," Scorpius commented. "If your dad used the Imperius Curse on you, would you trust other dads? I don't think I would."

Albus frowned. "No. I wouldn't. I would....honestly, I'd do what Lily did. I'd get my boyfriend and I'd teach myself how to fight it off."

Scorpius imagined how frightening it would be to be under somebody else's complete control.

"Maybe Lily had the right idea after all," Scorpius admitted.

"I'll never admit that Lily was right...but I guess I do understand her."

"We should tell her that."

"What? No way. I've got a reputation as the hard brother to uphold."

"Of course. Tough. Hard. You're very...cold and removed."

Albus grinned. "Becoming an honorary Potter has really done wonders for your sass, hasn't it?"

Scorpius wanted to quip back, but he was too busy beaming at the words honorary Potter.

(He wouldn't have minded being an actual Potter, but he'd never voice that aloud to anyone.)

Scorpius didn't know what Evvie and Nora found out on Thursday night, but whatever it was made them take a special interest in Iset's wellbeing. On Friday, after DADA, the two girls met Iset outside of the classroom. Scorpius watched the three walk off whispering, simultaneously relieved and worried all at once. He was glad that Evvie and Nora had gotten involved, but he was worried about Iset.

However, as Saturday drew nearer, his ability to think about anything but Quidditch dwindled. He wasn't particularly competitive (and if he was being honest with himself, the idea of playing against James, Lily, Rose, and Roxanne was intimidating, to say the least), but the school was so keyed up that it was making Scorpius exceedingly nervous. The mixed-House table in the Great Hall quickly became a breeding ground for placing bets on Saturday's match and engaging in rowdy arguments over which team had the best chances. Slughorn got so frustrated with the Gryffindors and Slytherins for their relentless and competitive bickering in double Potions on Friday that he cut the lesson a half-hour short and sent them all on their way. It should've been a relief to have that half-hour free, but it was marred by Rose joining them in the library just so she could ramble on about different techniques she'd been perfecting for the match.

"You better watch out," she told Scorpius, her eyes twinkling. "We're not going to go easy on you."

"He's not going to go easy on you, either!" Albus said, throwing his arm around Scorpius's shoulder.

Scorpius knew his responding smile probably looked pained.

He woke up before dawn on the morning of the match. At first, he wasn't sure what had woken him, but then he felt the shift of the mattress. He rolled over and squinted into the green-tinted darkness. Albus—clearly still asleep—fell down onto Scorpius's bed and immediately kicked his way beneath the covers. He slid over until they were snuggled closely. Scorpius yawned. He reached up and set his palm on Albus's warm cheek. He could feel creases on his skin from his wrinkled pillowcase. He gently stroked his thumb over Albus's cheekbone as his own eyes drifted back shut again. He stretched his legs out, shifted closer, and pushed one of his legs between Albus's.

No expecting an answer, he whispered aloud: "Why do you do this?"

Albus mumbled something incoherent. Scorpius moved his hand to Albus's hair. He stroked his fingers through it as he struggled to count Albus's light freckles in the darkness. One, two, three, four, five...

"I'm nervous," Albus mumbled suddenly.

Scorpius had truly thought he was sleep-walking again, so he was a bit taken aback. His hand paused in Albus's hair.

"Don't stop," Albus complained, his words slurred with sleep. Scorpius felt his heart swell. He quickly began stroking Albus's hair again.

"About the match?" he finally asked.

"Yeah," Albus whispered back. "What if I can't be good anymore?"

"You can always be good," Scorpius reassured him. "It's going to be great! Splendid! Magnificent! And, you know, if it isn't, if it's dreadful...well, I know where the Sevens stash firewhisky."

It did what he'd been hoping it'd do: it made Albus laugh. His sleepy chuckles were some of Scorpius's favorites. He smiled and admired the way Albus's smile lit up his face, even half-asleep in a nearly-dark room. He shifted closer to Albus. His hand moved to the back of Albus's head and cupped it. He brought his face towards Albus's and kissed his lips gently. Warmth shot from the place their lips met and spread throughout Scorpius's body. He couldn't help but squirm in delight. And in their sleepy, vulnerable states, it was incredibly easy to get the words out; he was so bursting with affection and love that he was certain those three words were all he'd be able to say.

"I love you," he whispered. He rubbed his nose against Albus's and pushed a hand up his pajama shirt. He rested his palm against the smooth skin of Albus's back as he kissed him again.

"Even if I lose us the match?" Albus asked.

"Always."

"Me too," Albus smiled.

With his heart bursting with so much love that he felt he might burst open, Scorpius kissed Albus lazily until he eventually grew too tired to stay awake, and then he rested his cheek against Albus's and drifted back off to sleep.

"All right," Jacques Stinton said. He smoothed his Quidditch robes and readjusted his hold on his broomstick. Scorpius's hands shook as he tried to pull on his gloves. Beside him, Albus was fumbling with his trousers. "Keep your wits about you. Remember our strategy. We need to score sixteen goals as quickly as possible, as well as a goal for every one Gryffindor manages to score."

"I hate playing Gryffindor," Martes grumbled. "The entire match is a race against the Potter girl. How can she even catch the snitch with four eyes?"

Scorpius bristled. Albus stiffened at his side. But before they could do anything, Martes was smacked in the face with the end of Caden Rowle's broom.

"Rowle!" Jacques scolded.

"What?" Caden shot back.

"Don't smack your teammates in the face with your broom! I know you're only thirteen, but please try to act less like a child!"

"I'm fourteen now, and I was just trying to show him the benefits of 'four eyes', Captain. If he'd been wearing glasses, that wouldn't have hurt." Caden leaned towards Martes, who was rubbing his eyes hard. "Are your eyes watering, mate? Aw."

Scorpius laughed quietly. Caden shot a brief smile his way. And Albus was back to fidgeting with his Quidditch trousers. Scorpius grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side as Jacques began lecturing the beaters, Avery and Nott.

"Remember, you won't be able to intimidate Roxanne Weasley, so save that strategy for the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw games..."

"What's wrong?" Scorpius whispered. "Are they too loose?"

Albus had both hands down his trousers now. "No! It's these sodding—fancy—French—pants!"

Scorpius collapsed into laughter, the complaint entirely unexpected. Albus glared.

"You never have any problem with them when I'm wearing them," Scorpius reminded him.

"Yeah, well, I decided you wear them better," Albus said back. "They keep sliding about and it's very distracting—oh, Merlin. Scorpius, I'm going to have to go without them."

"Without them?!"

"Yes."

"Can we Accio your pants from the dorms?"

"And have them flying throughout the air?! I don't think so! James has already got Avery's strange underpants that Lily stole in case Avery makes him angry; we don't need any more Slytherin underpants on the pitch!"

Jacques lecturing drifted back over to them as they mulled over Albus's underwear situation.

"And for the love of Merlin and all the Muggle Gods, do not aim a Bludger at Nora Thomas or Lily Potter! I don't care if Lily Potter is inches from the Snitch and Thomas has scored thirty goals; it is not worth it! Don't forget what happens when you do, you'll have to deal with James for the entire game and nothing will get accomplished—"

"Right," Albus hissed. "I'm going bare."

Scorpius bit his lip. "I have to admit I've had a dream very similar to this. But in the dream, we didn't play the match."

Albus patted Scorpius's cheek. He looked a bit woozy. "There's still a chance I won't...c'mon."

Scorpius snuck into the changing stall with Albus. He held Albus's shoes as he fought his way from the form-fitting Quidditch trousers. Scorpius felt his heart jam at the sight of Albus in his borrowed pants.

"We have to play the match, we have to play the match, we have to play the match..." he chanted to himself, struggling to control the lust that was threatening to overtake him. Albus gave him a smirk that did nothing to help matters.

"Lesson learned. Don't steal your boyfriend's strange pants before a Quidditch match."

"An enjoyable lesson for those who are watching: me," Scorpius teased. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Your Quidditch trousers look better this way, anyway."

"You're so ridiculous."

Scorpius put his finger into the air. "The most ridiculous!"

"Potter! Malfoy!" Jacques yelled.

"Oops," Scorpius said.

They rejoined the team. Avery was looking at them like he'd smelled something particularly disgusting. Scorpius avoided his gaze.

"Scorpius," Jacques said. "It's your first game against Gryffindor, so don't worry too much about intercepting every goal—just try to catch the majority and hopefully we can score enough to counter it, okay?"

Scorpius was beginning to get the feeling that Jacques had no faith in him. With a rush of anxiety, he remembered Nora's joking statement about how every other Slytherin Keeper had been chased off by the Gryffindor team. He'd thought she was teasing, but...why had there been no other Slytherins going for Keeper?

"All right. It's time," Jacques said. At once, players headed towards the locker room doors. As soon as it opened even a centimeter, Scorpius could hear the shrieking crowds. And all at once, he was certain he couldn't do it.

"Oh no," Scorpius whispered frantically. He grabbed onto Albus's hand and squeezed his fingers tightly. "Oh no, oh no, oh no—"

"It's going to be okay—"

"No, it won't, I'm going to let everyone down, I'm going to embarrass my dad, oh no—"

Albus shot a quick look around them, and once he'd determined nobody was watching, he tugged Scorpius over to him. Scorpius was breathing shallowly through his parted lips when Albus leaned up and kissed him, taking him off guard for a moment. Albus chased Scorpius's evading eyes until they were looking at each other. Scorpius found himself simmering underneath the heat of Albus's intense eyes. Albus took their still-joined hands and guided Scorpius's hand over, resting it boldly on his bum.

"Oh," Scorpius squeaked, his cheeks flushing. "Albus, is this really the moment—"

"No," Albus said. "After the match is. Focus on that. Deep breaths. So we might horribly embarrass our families...who cares? What's new? We can celebrate together afterwards—win or lose, just us, losers united."

Scorpius had a fairly good idea what Albus meant by celebrating. And he did find celebrating exceedingly lovely in every possible way. And it was also true that it would probably be a reward so great that it could even make up for public embarrassment...

"Okay. We can do this. We're...going to do this. Even if we can't. We have to do this."

"That's...sort of the spirit," Albus agreed.

And before Scorpius could be crushed by another wave of self-doubt, Albus grabbed his broom, handed Scorpius's his, and pushed him through the locker room doors and out onto the pitch.

The sun was so dazzling and unforgiving that Scorpius almost wished for rain. He knew visibility would be difficult if not painful; there were only a few fluffy white clouds in the skin, which meant they had little chance for reprieve. He squinted up at the goal hoops, hoping to discern whether or not the sun would be directly in his eyes, but when he almost tripped over his own feet, he decided his focus would be better spent watching his every step.

"An exciting match on this unusually sunny Saturday!" called commentator Zola Burke. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin to open up our late-starting season!"

"Yes, or as I like to call it, Potter versus Potter," responded co-commentator Nolan Carmichael. "An interesting match ahead of us today with four out of seven Gryffindor players being Weasleys, and two of those being Potters—"

"And, joining Slytherin team for the first time, Albus Potter. Alongside Scorpius Malfoy acting as Keeper and Caden Rowle as Seeker," Zola Burke added.

"Here in the stands, we're wondering who will be struggling more during this match: Slytherin team or referee Ginny Potter, who must be feeling stressed by the pressure to remain impartial and not share with the entire school through her actions which child is her fav— sorry, Professor, okay! Sorry!" There was the sound of muffled argument, and then: "I would like to apologize to referee Ginny Potter."

Laughter erupted between shrieks and hoots. Scorpius and Albus joined their team and stood at the back. Jacques and James shook hands warmly.

"Stinton and Potter J sharing a warm handshake at the start of the match as Potter J exemplifies why he was chosen for Captain – Chaser Ben Wood, of course, was slated for that position, but was ultimately reconsidered after the fight during the final match last year. Could be worse, though— Carrow saw the business end of a lifelong ban— interestingly enough, Roxanne Weasley was allowed back on the team after her dodgy choice of retaliation during that spat—"

The sound of the whistle made Scorpius's stomach plummet. He stood frozen as everybody shot up into the air around him. After an embarrassing moment of frozen panic, he forced himself to mount his broom and kick off.

"And they're off! Keepers Malfoy and Macmillan speeding towards their hoops—Chasers getting into position—here come the balls!"

The sensation of the biting autumn wind against Scorpius's blushing face was a relief. He came to a stop in front of the center hoop. Like he'd suspected, the sun was set to be a nuisance. He could already feel a headache forming from keeping his eyes squinted against the glare. He took a deep breath and surveyed the pitch.

"Immediate possession by Slytherin Chaser Martes, he passes to Potter A, Potter A speeds towards Macmillan—interesting to note that neither Potter J nor Weasley have hit a Bludger towards Potter A yet when they usually don't let Chasers this close to scoring this early in the match; it's possible that family ties are tainting their gameplay—looks like Gryffindor Chasers Thomas and Granger-Weasley are attempting a winged interception—it was a success! Potter A drops the Quaffle, Thomas is in possession—a fabulous Chaser, but that's no surprise—everybody knows how the Potter men love Chasers. Many of us have eagerly anticipated seeing if Potter A exhibits any inherited Chasing skills and I must say, despite the interception, what we've seen thus far is promising—"

The commentary became an indistinguishable buzz to Scorpius as Nora came into view, Quaffle tucked beneath her arm. Scorpius flew to the right as she went towards that goal. She stopped. She gave him a soft, almost mollifying smile.

"Hi, Scorpius," she greeted gently.

He didn't take his eyes off her. "Hi, Nora," he said back.

"No hard feelings, all right? I'll buy you a butterbeer next Hogsmeade trip."

Scorpius furrowed his brow. "No hard feelings for what?"

She smiled, held his gaze long enough to catch him off guard, and then snapped her head towards the left goal. Scorpius yelped and flew towards it immediately; he just made it to it right as she...threw the Quaffle through the right goal, her eyes still pinned on the left.

"Nora!" Scorpius yelled. "How could you?!"

She curved each of her hands into what looked like the letter C and then brought them together, making what was clearly a heart.

"That doesn't forgive your trickery!" Scorpius said, astounded.

"And that's Gryffindor ten to zero! Martes snags the Quaffle after Thomas's goal, ohhh bad luck; Martes drops it after a well-aimed Bludger from Potter J—"

"Interesting to note once again that both teams' Beaters are rather subdued today in comparison to last year; Potter J and Weasley seem reluctant to hit Potter A, most likely due to his recent brush with death, and Beaters Avery and Nott appear to be sticking to their Thomas and Potter L Ban after the grizzly match last year when their aggressive techniques sent Thomas and Potter L to the Hospital Wing and Potter J into a vengeful fury—"

"It was the first time many of us have seen a Beater decide to go after the other team's Beaters exclusively and many of us still cringe at the sight of Beater's bats from time to time—absolutely brutal match—oh, Granger-Weasley with the Quaffle, she's