Standard Disclaimer applies.

I wrote this pretty quickly and had a lot of fun doing it. It is the result of wanting a non-angsty Scorpius. :)

IMPORTANT: Please, please, PLEASE do not take this seriously. Scorpius and Albus do indeed have an unhealthy relationship, but this is a fanfic, and one meant for a laugh, not the be judged with a serious eye. I wrote this as a Twinkie for the brain, yet it feels like people are perverting it into something hateful.

If you discover that this is not your thing, please simply close the window or hit the back button. No need to leave a nasty comment.

Albus Potter knew Scorpius Malfoy long before they met face-to-face. He remembered, even from very young ages, his father commenting on the Malfoy family.

"Eat your breakfast, Al, if you want me to take you flying this morning," his dad would say with a smile, picking up the newspaper to scan the front page—which occasionally made him scowl and mutter, "I can't believe this."

"What?" his mum would ask over her shoulder, shifting a slobbering Lily from one hip to the other and smacking a curious James' hand away from popping bacon grease.

"Ah, just Malfoy again," his dad always grumbled and always with a frown, shaking his head in disappointment. "Up to the same tricks."

Mostly, his mum would quietly mimic the head shake, but sometimes she would turn to see what his dad was reading. These times she would add something like, "He's got them eating out of his hands. Slytherin cunning, I guess."

"Malfoy's full of it," his dad would snort, and that was the end of that. A few minutes later, the newspaper would be opened for an article inside and the front page would be exposed to Albus.

"Draco Malfoy Elected to Wizengamot!" the headline would read, or something similar about the accomplishments, charities, or apologies of the Malfoy family. The articles were always full of sugary approval.

"Do they honestly believe his nonsense?" Albus had heard his Uncle Ron once rant. "All that junk about him just being a terrified kid, tricked into the wrong side of the war, forced to do horrible things? I can't believe he's the wizarding world's sweetheart!"

Every other Weasley adult would grunt their agreement, and those that married into the family kept their mouths shut—no need to be dragged into the Weasley-Malfoy feud. Eventually, Albus would hear his dad say again, "He's full of it."

But Albus stopped paying much attention to the notorious Draco Malfoy when, one day, the photo accompanying the headline was not only of the Councilman but also of a young girl standing next to him, her small hand in his. Albus leaned over the table, pajama front dragging into his eggs, and squinted at the girl. She smiled sweetly, shyly, for the cameras and looked to be about his age.

It was as if stars had aligned and fate pat him with her hand.

Albus felt his heart flip.

Ultimately, he caught the subhead: Wizengamot Councilman Malfoy with Heir Scorpius Hyperion at St. Mungo's New Wing Ribbon-Cutting.

And so he knew her name: Scorpius.

Soon, she was as frequent in the newspapers as her father, the rest of wizarding world clearly finding her every bit as adorable to follow as Albus did. The more she appeared, the more she smiled her delicate smiles and fluttered her pretty eyelashes, the greater Albus's crush grew.

Until the day, legs kicking the couch awkwardly, he blushingly mentioned this crush to his mum.

"The girl that's always with Malfoy?" she repeated with a confused frown, mostly distracted by her folding spell not working on the laundry. "Astoria, his wife?"

"No, the Councilman's daughter," Albus had mumbled, giddily nervous and blushing harder as he added, "You know. Scorpius."

His mum dropped her wand at that and stared at him in shock, but she broke into peals of laughter soon enough—which shouldn't be allowed, parents laughing at their children.

"Scorpius isn't Malfoy's daughter," she had managed to choke out. "Scorpius is Malfoy's son. He's a boy, Al!"

And then, because parents are evil, she had told everyone about Albus's mistaken assumption and subsequent crush. The entire extended family had good laugh at him. Even his dad—his dad!—joined in on the teasing.

Only his Aunt Hermione had been kind enough—through giggles—to say, "Well, it's a perfectly understandable mistake. Scorpius is at that age where all boys look like girls and Astoria keeps his hair long."

But it didn't matter anymore. Albus may have never met Scorpius Malfoy in person, but his embarrassment was great enough to make him dislike the other boy immediately, even if were for simply being a boy. He spent the next three years pointedly ignoring every photo of pretty smiles and flowing hair.

(Or so he vehemently insisted to others. Ginny was well aware that he still snuck the newspapers and magazines, had caught him gazing fondly at them more often than not when he thought he was alone, but she simply smiled and quietly moved along.)

Luckily, the teasing faded over the years, as did Albus' irritation on the matter. However, just when Albus thought maybe everyone had forgotten, just when he thought may he could quietly start mentioning Scorpius again without being relentlessly mocked, the class roster arrived for his upcoming Hogwarts year, the name Scorpius Malfoy only a few ahead of his own, and it all resumed with force. As such, Albus' angered obstinacy flared once more—a childish response but he was still yet a child—and every quip, every laugh, from his brother, cousins, aunts, and uncles made him more and more determined to never, ever like (or admit he liked) Scorpius Malfoy.

Unfortunately, things only got worse at Hogwarts.

Albus had been careful to avoid Scorpius on the Hogwarts Express, even standing as far apart as possible during the lineup for Sorting, glaring viciously at James and Fred when they made kissy faces at him while pointing at Scorpius. Therefore, Albus was immensely relieved when they ended up in different Houses, him to Gryffindor and Scorpius to Slytherin.

This could work out, he decided. They could go all seven years of school never interacting and soon Albus' boyhood crush would be just a blip in his past, because James and Fred had the attention spans of gnats and they'd forget it soon enough.

Everything would be fine.

(If secretly his heart broke a little at the thought of never speaking to Scorpius, no need know but him.)

Then, that first day of Potions, Albus walked into the classroom and saw the other students gathered around a friendly Scorpius Malfoy, all of them hanging on to his every melodic word—and, really, Albus had always known Scorpius would have a nice voice, even if he'd tried to stop thinking about it. Albus was instantly drawn in by that charismatic smile as Scorpius described Councilman Malfoy's progressive views on wizard-muggle relations.

Then Rosie snorted a laugh beside him, giggling at Albus' adoring gaze, and the instant mortification at having been caught caused Albus to simply lose it.

"Yeah, well, my dad says your dad is full of it!" he suddenly snapped at Scorpius, gaining the attention of everyone in the room, as well as a few gasps. He ignored all of them and, desperate to prove himself in front of his cousin, he continued, "He also says your dad is a lying cheat who'll say anything to make people like him!"

Albus expected anger in response, like when he fought James.

Or perhaps disapproval, like how Rosie argued.

Or maybe even a snide comeback, like Louis always gave.

What he hadn't expected was for Scorpius Malfoy to look so wounded, for tears to well up in those soft metallic eyes, or for Scorpius to whisper, "I… I… Why would you say something so mean?" before bursting into tears and dashing out of the classroom.

Albus froze in utter shock, and then shrunk under the glares of the other students. He tried to hide behind a desk as he was met with growling reprimands of "How could you?" and "What was that for?" and "He never did anything to you!"

A fourth year Slytherin had brought a quiet, red-eyed Scorpius back to the classroom. The older girl searched out Albus to give him a threatening glower—along with renewed glares from everyone else—while she murmured encouraging words to the distraught blond.

Then class started.

And Albus felt horrible.

Worse than that time he'd intentionally blown up Rosie's mini-potions set, so tired of her bragging about how awesome it was.

Worse than that time he'd lied to his father about where James and Fred had snuck off to, having been bullied into silence by the older boys.

Even worse than that time he'd left Lily stranded on a tree top as a joke—which had been Hugo's idea, not his, just to be clear!

Bizarrely, Albus actually felt a little disappointed, too. Maybe he'd built it up in his head too much, but listening to his parents and family discuss the cleverness of the Malfoy family had kind of made Albus think Scorpius would be someone who could keep up with the Potter stride, both mentally and physically. However, despite the slight dimming of his crush, Albus immediately decided he would apologize and, as soon as class ended, he made straight for Scorpius Malfoy—or as straight as could be when winding nervously, awkwardly, and hesitantly around tables and benches.

The group in a defensive cluster around Scorpius, which also included a few Gryffindors, stood firm and protective to ward off Albus, but then Scorpius's darling voice had quietly piped in, "I-It's okay. If he wants to talk, I mean…" and the other students had reluctantly left, leaving Albus uncomfortably alone in the classroom with the timid blond.

"Look, I'm sorry," Albus rushed to say, having rehearsed his apology rather than listen to his first potion's lecture. "I shouldn't have said what I did, and it was wrong and mean, and you didn't deserve it and," here Albus had held out a shaky hand, "I'd like it if we could—"

Albus didn't get to finish.

The next thing he knew, his hand had been snatched and he'd been spun, with his arm being twisted painfully behind his back and his face being pressed roughly into the wooden desk.

"You will never," Scorpius hissed by his ear, "say things like that about my father again, understand?"

"Ow-ow-ow-wha-?" Albus whimpered, mind still reeling in surprise. He tried to struggle free but that only made Scorpius twist the arm tighter, so he quickly squealed, "I understand! I understand! It won't happen again!"

At that, Scorpius let him go, giving him the patented sweet smile from the newspapers, and brightly said, "Good. It's nice to meet you, Albus Potter. We'll be perfect friends, I'm sure," before trotting gleefully out of the classroom, turning meek once the door opened. He quietly assured everyone waiting outside that Albus had apologized, and Albus struggled to wrap his mind around the incident, the abrupt change in Scorpius' demeanor. If it weren't for the ache in his arm, Albus would think he'd imagined the whole thing! Albus was absolutely shocked.

(And maybe a little in love, but that was neither here nor there.)

But then he heard Scorpius say that they were friends now. While his heart did initially beat a happily faster pace at that, it stopped short when he again caught sight of Rosie, her eyebrow raised in flat question. She was on the verge of arrogant triumph, of prancing off and telling everyone—and Albus instantly went on the defensive.

"We're not friends," Albus cut in, scowling at a wide-eyed Scorpius, directing his fear and anger toward the other boy. Once more, the crowd gasped, but Albus barreled on, "I'm going to let everyone know what a two-faced snake you are, Scorpius Malfoy!"

The group of students erupted in shouted reprimands, everyone angry with Albus for still being mean. Everyone's eyes were on him, so maybe that was why Albus was the only one that saw it: the way Scorpius' eyes narrowed, assessing, his lips twitching as if he wanted to smirk. The expression was only there for a half-second, gone in the next blink, because then Scorpius was bursting into tears all over again.

But this time, instead of guilt, Albus' heart fluttered excitedly, because he knew, and amidst all the shouting, he made the decision to let everyone else know as well.

And so he set on his goal like wet on rain, once more obstinately refusing to admit he wanted to be anything but Scorpius Malfoy's enemy and did his absolutely best to prove that the Slytherin was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Except... none believed him. No one.

The louder Albus raved about Scorpius being a liar, the harder Scorpius cried. The more insistent Albus was, the sweeter Scorpius became. The more proof Albus tried to show, the friendlier Scorpius acted. It soon reached the point where Albus just looked like a close-minded bully and Scorpius like an innocent target. The Slytherin had perfected wounded expressions, hurt and pained tones of voice, and crying on cue to combat Albus, all while maintaining his extra-friendly, utterly selfless, and annoyingly sweet exterior to fool everyone else.

Of course, any time Albus accidentally found himself alone with Scorpius was an entirely different story. He wasn't entirely sure how someone half his weight could push him around, but Scorpius did: arm-twisting, choke holds, dead-legging, well-aimed kicks to his arse, and even, once, a punch to the kidney.

A punch to the kidney, for Godric's sake!

This went on for the first four years of Hogwarts.

(And Albus maybe loved it a little, the challenge Scorpius gave him, the role he got to play as sarcastic naysayer. He grew into it rather well, if he did say so himself.)

At the beginning of their fifth year, Scorpius cornered Albus in the Charms classroom, blushing and glancing at Albus bashfully while the other students exited.

Albus rolled his eyes, knowing it was an act, and flatly said, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Once the classroom door closed, leaving them alone, the façade Scorpius wore dropped instantly and was replaced with a smirk, a mischievous gleam that Albus had come to know well enough to make him wary, if also a bit honestly curious.

"We are now officially dating," Scorpius loftily informed him. "Be sure to act appropriately."

"What?" Albus squawked, utterly shocked. "What on this planet makes you think I'd ever want to date you? Forget it!"

Albus fully intended to avoid Scorpius' dangerous violence, but Scorpius was a fast little wicked thing and soon had three of Albus' fingers nearing the breaking point.

"You will date me," Scorpius ordered calmly over Albus' pleas for release, "and you will be a gentleman about it. No more of this 'Scorpius Malfoy is evil' nonsense."

"I get it! I get it!" Albus wailed, having fallen to his knees before the blond in his attempts to relieve the pressure on his hand. "We're together and I'll treat you right! I promise! Just let go!"

Scorpius did let go but gave Albus only a moment to bemoan his possibly-cracked bones before hauling him up and demanding that they eat lunch together. He was required to hold Scorpius' hand as they exited the classroom, with Scorpius walking close to him and smiling coyly at their surprised classmates. Albus, for his part, stared straight ahead, smiling through clenched teeth when Scorpius gave a threatening squeeze to his already sore hand.

This in of itself was highly embarrassing, but what was even worse was the story Scorpius created to explain why they had gone from bully and victim (not that anyone knew who the real bully was) to a couple. Albus, according to Scorpius, was incredibly bashful and proud, and therefore the type to torment the one he liked. Scorpius, he'd claimed about himself, had recognized the harassment "for what it was" and found it adorable.

Thus they had supposedly worked all this out and fell deeply in lust with one another.

(That it hit a little too close to home made Albus burn even hotter with embarrassment.)

It was hard at first, but Albus learned his role in their pretend relationship soon enough: hand holding any time they walked together, sitting closely together in class and at meals, quick pecks when they had to leave each other, and occasional brushes of the hand against an arm, leg, or cheek to show everyone how "fond" they were of each other.

Unfortunately, Albus also quickly discovered that a large portion of the student body was entirely convinced by and enamored with his demon boyfriend's kind lies and he consequently came under attack by them. He found all of his books thrown in the lake, his things suspiciously missing from his dormitory, his essays were ruined if he didn't hide them, someone carved "obnoxious git" into his headboard, and worst of all, his Quidditch broom was sabotaged, leaving him to ride one of the school's old Nimbus versions—which were ridiculously slow compared to his Cosmic Catastrophe.

"You're fine," Scorpius said dismissively when Albus complained to him. "Stop whinging. I want a boyfriend, not a child."

Albus considered strangling him then but, Gryffindor or not, he wasn't brave enough to try it. Besides, at least being Scorpius' pretend boyfriend meant he had help with his homework. His grades rose significantly thanks to Scorpius' tutoring—after all, only a genius could play everyone the way Scorpius did.

In sixth year, the hand holding became more like Scorpius leaning on him, sitting closely became more like Scorpius sliding onto his lap, quick pecks became deep kisses, and the occasional brushes became full-on groping.

Scorpius Malfoy was not shy.

Yet somehow still managed to convince everyone that he was, and it didn't take long for Albus to be viewed as a threat to the Prince Sweet & Lovable's innocence, boyfriend or not.

Naturally, it was completely the other way around, as Albus soon found himself tied to a bed and gagged while Scorpius straddled him—mortifying enough by itself, but tack on the facts that Scorpius was a head shorter, considerably slighter, and still kind of looked like a girl and Albus wondered if it was possible to burn up in shame. That Scorpius had completely dominated him despite being the catcher didn't help his pride any.

(Neither did the fact that he secretly loved every second of it and, despite all his protests otherwise, he was more than happy to do it again, and again, and again...)

After graduation, Scorpius could go into any field he wanted. After all, he had learned his conniving ways from his father, who had made sure to gain the favor of the entire wizarding world. Apparently, despite the horrors of the wars, wizards and witches were very traditional and liked to follow strong pureblood families.

With his social aptitude, Scorpius naturally went into politics and was soon loved by everyone in the Ministry the same as he'd been loved by everyone at Hogwarts.

It was actually quite terrifying.

But along with graduation, Albus figured that Scorpius would be finally finished with him.

(A relief, he told himself, though deep down inside, where he'd locked all of his secrets, his heart ached at the thought.)

As always, Scorpius was the one to inform him that he was gravely mistaken.

"You're going into Healing," Scorpius ordered, showing up at the Potter house barely a week after they'd left Hogwarts. "I need my fiancé to be in a respectable position."

"F-Fiance?" Albus sputtered.

Scorpius handed him a small, intricately designed box which held a pair of matching white gold rings when Albus popped it open. "Yes. You are proposing tonight at dinner. I'll have an elf send you the arrangements, so be on time and dress appropriately. It will be on the cover of tomorrow's Prophet, you realize."

"No way!" Albus protested, simply because he always had, always would, and tossed the box back at Scorpius. "I played along at school, but this is my life we're talking about!"

Scorpius sighed and rolled his eyes, as if exasperated.

A few minutes later, when Albus was pressed face to the ground with Scorpius sitting on his back, twisting his leg and knee in painful directions, Albus quickly agreed, "Yes, yes! I love you, honey, baby, darling, cupcake! I'll be on time and dressed appropriately, my love!"

And that was that.

(Internally, Albus cheered.)

They were to be engaged for precisely five years Scorpius explained the next morning, having demanded that Albus spend the night with him after the proposal—an unnecessary demand because Albus planned to stay anyway, what with Scorpius all primped up and fantastically jumpable during dinner, flirting coyly the way he had over dessert. Still looking gorgeous even in his dressing gown, Scorpius had amusedly smiled down at the article in The Prophet which cooed over their sweetheart romance . Then he said that five years was long enough to avoid the air of rushing into things. His fingers danced over their photo and the honest affection in his expression may have made Albus' heart melt.

But Albus soon broke out of his fond reverie to proclaim that he viewed it as five years to design an escape plan. He had an image to keep, after all.

Instead, he spent the five years becoming a healer—he was shocked to find that the career suited him rather well—and he even moved into a well-sized, well-furnished flat with his "fiancé." At only two years in, the mild terror he had always experienced from watching Scorpius work the personable magic settled into amused acceptance. Scorpius was a mastermind when it came to manipulating but he never really used the control he gained. Yes, Scorpius' wants always took priority, and he was not afraid to charm his way into getting what he wanted, but his wants were never anything too great. In fact, it seemed as though his greatest ambition was simply finding joy in playing the angel everyone expected him to be. All in all, Scorpius never made anyone do anything they didn't ultimately want to do, merely always seeing through their defenses and demanding that they admit their true desires.

(The greatest evidence of this, Albus supposed, was Scorpius seeing through every protest Albus himself had made.)

Then, during year three, Albus discovered Scorpius' stash of old Prophet articles, ones that had pictures of Albus' own younger self. Apparently, Scorpius Malfoy, too, had known Albus Potter long before they met face-to-face and, well, Albus couldn't help but feel their odd sort of bond deepen with that.

So five years went by and Albus never got around to making an escape plan.

Five years came and went, and so did their wedding.

Five years and Albus maybe, possibly, probably, actually, truly, honestly loves his twisted little demon in some twisted little way.

And now, as Albus stands overlooking the beach from their honeymoon suite, Scorpius sipping from a colored drink next to him, he has but one question.

"Why me?"

Scorpius smiles warmly and flicks a tiny paper umbrella at him.

"Because you're the only one who knows that I'm full of it."

The end.