Scorpius Malfoy opened the door to the Slytherin fifth year boys' dormitories quietly. When he saw that no one was there, he slammed the door shut, finally dropping his cool façade in favor of wanton irritation. No one could be allowed to know that he wasn't as prim and proper as the character he played in most company, and no one, absolutely no one could be allowed to know what was going through his mind as he'd noticed Albus Potter coming out of the Slytherin showers.

Where did Albus Potter get off acting like he owned—no, "get off" was not the phrase he wanted to be using—why did Albus Potter think he had the right to walk around the bathrooms with just a towel around his waist, couldn't he have taken his wand and charmed some clothes on? Well, that wasn't quite fair—it was annoying when you took a shower and then your wand got condensation on it and—

Thinking about Albus Potter's moist wand was not helping.

He groaned aloud. Why was he thinking this way? He didn't like guys. And despite the fact that Potter was a tall and muscular, tanned and toned Quidditch star, oozing with confidence and sex appeal—

This was not going to go away.

He grabbed his wand from his robes, nearly dropping it with how flustered he was, and tossed it around a bit before he caught it. He calmed himself, took a deep breath, tried to clear his mind (yes, even clearing out that clear-as-day memory of the tiny little hairs studding the heavenly, highly-tongue-traceable path down to Albus's—would you cut that out, brain?) and held the wand up to his temple.

He knew there was only one way to get this to stop, and it was not something he wanted to do, but he could tell this was only going to get worse. He had to use the Memory Charm.

Now, instead, he tried to bring those thoughts back into his mind. Ignoring how happy it made him to picture Albus Potter's naked, dripping body with his pitch-black hair plastered to his forehead and his striking green eyes gazing at Scorpius so hard that it felt like they were having sex just from the eye contact, he took another deep breath; but before he released this one, he loudly announced the word that could finally fix this aching problem: "Obliviate!"

Just before the spell took effect, he noticed that the door had opened, and a head of very messy yet perfect hair had poked itself in.

Then it was all gone, and he couldn't remember what he had been doing in here. Was he waiting for someone?

He looked to the door and saw Albus Potter looking in. Potter was wearing only a towel, with threads of water climbing down his sculpted body, his striking green eyes under pitch-black hair plastered to his forehead... the gaze was so intense it was almost like they were having sex just from the eye contact.

Scorpius shook his head. What the hell was he thinking right now?! Yet he couldn't stop staring at Albus...

"Scorpius?" said Potter uncertainly. "Did you just…"

"Did I just what?" said Scorpius. "I was just leaving."

He didn't know why, but being around Potter made him uncomfortable. Potter gave him thoughts that he felt like he was going to have to Obliviate out of his own head if they didn't stop recurring.

"No, it's just… That's at least the third time this year I've walked in on you using Obliviate on yourself," said Albus. "Is something wrong?"