Hello all, obsidiancurrents here, welcoming you to the ninth and final chapter of Like Father, Like Son.

Much love to avid reader, Kigen Dawn, Albox117, AKTF-0729, SimbaRella, Ern Ernstine 13624, Linda, Buford the Table, Blakely Evans, Valjean Lestrange, and anyone else who read, reviewed, favorited, or followed this weird little fic. Many thanks for the encouragement.

Expect more from me, and feel free to write me with critiques for this here fic as well as prompts and suggestions for future stories.

Chapter Nine: Nerve

"No bloody way."

"I was aghast myself."

"He really confessed to being in love with my dad?"

"Er - well, not in those exact words..."

Scorpius and Albus stretched out in the grass, watching the swollen clouds above drift lazily through the afternoon sky and toward the horizon. Upon hearing a sigh from his right, Scorpius turned his head to study Albus. The azure sky had lacquered Albus's eyes with a turquoise sheen; their glassy surface caught the sharp reflection of an amorphous cloud as Albus stared heavenward, his eyebrows lowered in deep contemplation. The opalescence of his eyes was harshly offset by the deep shadows and anxious lines in the skin surrounding them, and it dawned on Scorpius that, as exhausted as he himself was, the toll exacted on him by his father's illness in these past weeks was probably trivial compared to the impact of Harry's infidelity on Albus.

He propped himself up on his elbow and bit his lip. "Listen, Al."

Albus tore himself from his brooding and gazed up at Scorpius with a neutral expression.

Scorpius sighed. "I've been such a prat for these past few weeks, neglecting you like that. I should have never let our families' mistakes come between us, or gotten so preoccupied with helping my mum look after my dad. I should have reached out to you more, much more. I'm sorry."

Albus rolled onto his side and propped his chin on his hand as he surveyed Scorpius's imploring face. "I'm sorry, too," he said slowly. "I wanted to see you, but my life's been mad lately as well. I'm sorry for saying all those vicious things about your dad before, and for defending Ron. Your dad...he didn't deserve that curse Ron threw." He smiled weakly at Scorpius. "I'm just grateful your parents aren't suing."

Scorpius nodded at Albus with a warm smile. "No worries, kid."

Albus dropped his gaze and played with a blade of grass, suddenly shy. "I've missed you, Scorpius."

He barely had time to look up again before Scorpius had him captured in a deep, leisurely kiss. When he finally pulled away, Albus's face was flushed with red, just the way Scorpius liked it. Scorpius laughed softly and offered him a cool hand.

Albus pressed it against his burning cheek, then swallowed. "How - how is your dad, by the way?"

"Much better."

Albus relaxed against Scorpius's hand with a sigh of relief. "That's good."

Scorpius lazily combed his fingers through Albus's hair. "What about you? What has it been like at the Potters'?"

At this Albus looked Scorpius dead in the eye. "You wouldn't believe it, Scorpius. My mum's been dating."

"Dating! Who?"

"A couple of different blokes. She seems to be having a blast, actually." A dark look clouded his features. "And the bizarre thing is, we're all living at home - we only stayed at the Weasleys' for a couple of nights - so Mum's been seeing these new boyfriends of hers right under Dad's nose."

Scorpius raised his eyebrows. "And how does your dad feel about that?"

Albus shrugged. "Can't tell. I haven't spoken to either of them much. Sometimes I hear them fighting. Other times I hear them laughing, as if this is all some funny joke." He shook his head in disbelief. "Sometimes it actually seems like they're getting on better now than they used to."

"That is bizarre..." Scorpius trailed off as he pondered the situation. "Do you want them to stay together?"

Albus reflected before sighing heavily. "Can't tell," he repeated.

Scorpius eyed Albus's fingers as they returned to toying with that blade of grass. Albus gently prodded a small ant that was scurrying up the blade and drew his eyebrows. "I just never saw anything like this coming," he muttered. "I mean, I never thought Dad would...would..."

"Go gay?"

"Go gay, yeah."

"I dunno," Scorpius drawled, smiling slyly at Albus. "I think I may have detected a distinct...aroma about him, if you will..."

Albus looked up at him skeptically, the corner of his mouth upturning in spite of himself. "A poofy aroma?"

"That's it," Scorpius said, snapping his fingers. "A poofy aroma. Must run in the family."

"Do I smell poofy?"

"Oh yes."

Albus laughed, a sound that Scorpius savored. "Bugger off." He punched Scorpius on the shoulder. "You had no idea about me for years. Otherwise you would've made a move on me sooner."

Scorpius tried his best to look affronted. "I was waiting for the opportune time, my dear Gryffindor."

Chuckling, Albus fell back against the cool grass. He closed his eyes and felt the breeze drift over him, bringing with it some relief from the summer heat.

Unseen by Albus, Scorpius's smile melted into an expression of deliberation. Long moments dawdled by before Scorpius finally opened his mouth to give shape to his thoughts. "You know..." he began, then hesitated.

Albus opened one eye to peer curiously at him.

Taking courage, Scorpius pushed on. "It was this one day, in Potions class," he said slowly. "You were working beside me with that look on your face - you know, that extremely endearing look of concentration you get when you - anyway, I was just sort of, er, watching you. I didn't think you would notice, but then you suddenly looked right up at me and caught me staring. I thought you would flinch away and think I was strange after that or something. But you just looked right back at me, and you gave me this knowing smile...and that was the moment. That was when I decided I just had to do something about you."

Just when Albus had thought he'd rid himself of his blush, it sprang to his cheeks once again. He glanced over at Scorpius, but the boy's eyes were fixed on the clouds.

"My dad told me something when he was in hospital," Scorpius went on. "He told me he thought I was brave. But I'm not." His head turned. Silver eyes caught green. "It's you, Al. You make me feel brave."

Albus's lips parted as he searched Scorpius's face, which was open in a rare moment of vulnerability. His hand jutted through the grass to find Scorpius's.

"That's exactly how I feel about you," he breathed.

Draco Malfoy once again hunched over the desk in his study, reading the most long-winded and difficult text he could locate amongst his bookcases. Suddenly the words began to swim before his eyes, then his vision went momentarily dark. It still frightened him a bit when that happened, but thankfully it was occurring less and less often. He remembered the Healers' assurance that, if he continued to take his prescribed potions for just a few more days, the effects of Ron Weasley's rage-filled Stunner should dissipate completely, leaving his much-abused brain good as new.

"Draco?"

His sight once more granted to him, Draco twisted in his chair to rest his eyes on Astoria, who was leaning in the doorway with her handbag slung over her shoulder. These days, for whatever reason, he preferred to keep his study door open.

His wife stepped inside. Draco laid his reading glasses on the desk and rose to meet her. "Yes, Astoria?"

"How are you feeling, dear?"

"All right."

"How are the headaches?"

"Diminishing."

Relief smoothed out her features, and she placed a hand against his cheek before kissing the opposite one. "I'm off to have dinner with Ginny."

"Right." Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Come to think of it, you never did tell me why she asked to speak with you."

Astoria smiled a bit devilishly. "Apparently she's curious about a certain topic on which I happen to be knowledgable." When Draco looked perplexed, her mouth twitched. "Open marriages."

Draco's eyebrows soared.

"I told Hildy that you'll be needing dinner soon," Astoria said sweetly as she turned and began to walk out. "No telling when I'll be home."

Before she disappeared around the doorway, she cast him a breezy glance.

"Oh, and by the way - Harry Potter is in the drawing room."

Draco had wondered if this day would come. With an overpowering sense that he was marching to his doom, Draco followed Astoria into the drawing room as if in slow-motion. There, just as promised, stood the Famous Harry Potter, looking rather like he wasn't at all certain what he was doing there. When he noticed the two figures approaching, his gaze briefly alighted on Astoria before jumping to Draco and sticking on him like a magnet.

Astoria smiled warmly at Harry and addressed him, drawing his attention momentarily back to her. "Hello, Harry. Are you well?"

"Hello Astoria. Er - yeah, thanks. And you?"

"Quite well, thank you."

She glanced between the two men, who had returned once again to their stare-down. She coughed gently.

"Well, I'm off. Leave each other in one piece, won't you? Nice to finally see you, Harry."

And with one last knowing smile, she sauntered out.

The two men faced each other in silence, standing a few meters apart. Harry's eyes scanned Draco's body for signs of ill health as Draco steadied his cool gaze on the Auror's face, chin raised defiantly.

"How - " Harry coughed, began again. "How are you?"

As soon as Harry asked, he grimaced. Knowing Draco, he would say something scathing about Ron here, perhaps exaggerate his pain and milk it for all it was worth like he did when Buckbeak had scratched him in third year -

"I'm doing well. Nearly recovered," was Draco's curt reply.

Harry blinked at him like he was seeing Draco for the first time. He examined his wan face; although Draco stood straight and seemed healthy enough, Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt when he noticed the darkness encircling his pale eyes.

"Look, I, erm, just wanted to let you know that Ron is sorry for what he did, even if he won't admit it. He just - lost control."

Draco nodded slightly before continuing to stare at Harry in silence.

"And, erm..." Harry coughed. "I also wanted to tell you that...that I'm sorry, as well. For blaming you entirely for - for what happened. I am the one who betrayed my family. I have to take responsibility for that."

After a tense pause, Draco simply nodded again, unable to speak. His heart palpitated heavily.

Harry returned the gesture, then shoved his hands into his pockets as he glanced around the room awkwardly. "I, er, wanted to ask you..."

Draco's heart beat louder, louder. Harry met his eyes.

"Do you remember anything you said in hospital?"

"No," Draco managed to spit out. "But...Astoria filled me in." He had wanted to counter with some biting remark that would squash Harry's questioning, but those few words were all he was able to muster. Now he could only hope that Harry would drop it on his own.

He didn't. In fact, he raised the stakes. "Well, er...did you mean it? What you said about me?"

Draco was glad Harry wasn't too close, or he might have heard Draco's breath catch in his throat. He wished vehemently that Harry hadn't asked that particular question. Even if he wanted to tell Harry the truth, he was so accustomed to denying it now that he wasn't even certain it was physically possible for him to do so. The truth was buried in a decades-old grave, and the dirt covering it was packed very tightly. But he'd buried it alive, and now it was struggling to reach out, to dig its desperate hands through the dirt - but to no avail.

Draco shook his head in the negative.

Harry set his jaw and nodded, dropping his gaze to the stone floor and jamming his hands farther into his pockets. Draco watched him with an odd mixture of triumph and regret.

Harry finally coughed, glanced back up at Draco, and forced a genial smile to his face. "Well, Draco Malfoy. I think it's time that we followed through with that truce you offered before, don't you? No more of this insanity between us, eh?"

Draco cocked his head. Harry was speaking to him like an old chap - what a curious feeling.

He almost instinctively leapt back when he noticed that Harry was striding nearer to him, closing the gap between them and thus increasing Draco's heartbeat.

Harry outstretched his hand and leveled an expectant gaze. "Shake on it?"

Draco stared down at the hand suspiciously, his scrambled mind sluggishly processing what Harry was requesting of him. Then, cautiously eyeing the good-natured expression on Harry's face, he slowly extended his arm and took Harry's hand in his.

Instead of shaking hands, both men just stood there looking dumbly at each other, their hands frozen in place. Draco's pulse pounded as he realized he was feeling Harry's skin against his once more, and that something like sweet, slow electricity was emanating from where their hands met and traveling up his arm. Without willing it to happen, Draco brushed his thumb lightly over the back of Harry's hand and was surprised to feel an unexpectedly rough patch of skin. Harry's eyes widened at the tenderness of his touch, but Draco didn't notice; he had dropped his gaze to Harry's hand and was rotating it to get a good look at its back. He perceived what looked remarkably like letters etched in gnarled scar tissue; when he finally made out the words, his heart stopped.

I must not tell lies.

Suddenly Harry's grip tightened, trapping Draco's hand in his. Draco stifled a gasp as Harry jerked him a bit towards him; his eyes involuntarily met Harry's smoldering gaze.

"There really is no one more infuriating than you," Harry growled. "Somehow I knew, I knew you would always be a bloody thorn in my side, ever since I laid eyes on you in Diagon Alley - "

"So you do remember Madam Malkin's," Draco pointed out thickly.

Harry gritted his teeth. "Of course I remember Madam Malkin's - every bloody interaction with you stands out ever so starkly in my mind, and it seems to me you haven't changed one bit over the years." Somewhere, though, in the back of Harry's mind, this didn't feel quite true; he remembered the uncharacteristically gentle expression on Draco's face as he'd lovingly caressed Astoria and Scorpius at St. Mungo's. Then again, Draco had been high when he'd done that, so maybe it didn't count.

Draco's nostrils flared, and he firmly held up his chin even though he was absolutely shaking with the urge to run away. Not that he could, anyway, with Harry's vice-like grip fastening him in place. "As far as I can see, you are the one who hasn't changed, Potter. At least not that temper or that thick skull of yours. You refuse to see how my family changed me, how the war changed me, how you - "

He cut himself off in horror, biting his lip firmly.

Harry shook his head, visibly willing himself to cool down but keeping Draco's hand locked. He met Draco's eye with a fierceness that made Draco's breath quicken.

"Draco, when I spoke to you again after all these years of silence, I wanted to believe you were a changed man. You just didn't want to show me."

Draco swallowed and turned his face away. He heard something like shouting inside his head, muffled, as if coming from a deep grave...

"If of the two of us," he began desperately, "I'm the only one who's going to have the courage to acknowledge what's really going on between us, then I'm afraid you've changed for the worse just as much as I've changed for the better - "

"What, then?!" Harry shouted in exasperation, finally dropping Draco's hand to grip Draco's shoulders. "What is really going on between us?"

Swallowing again, Draco closed his eyes against the intensity of the emerald glare. The truth was threatening to break out. It was thrashing through the dirt, burrowing to the surface...

"Draco."

Harry's voice was soft but dangerous. Draco reluctantly opened his eyes to meet the burning gaze.

"Answer me straight, once and for all. What the bloody hell do you want from me?"

Maybe it was the way Harry had used Draco's first name, injecting new life into its syllables with that mellifluous voice, or maybe it was the way that the heat from Harry's grip on his shoulders radiated out in intoxicating waves to consume Draco's entire body. All Draco knew was that he was succumbing, finally succumbing, as the truth obliterated its earthen prison...

"What do I want?" he breathed. His mind was suddenly sharp, focused. He stepped forward, grabbing Harry's face, knocking him off-kilter for a change. "I want all of you."

A flicker in Harry's eyes was the only indication that he'd registered any word of what Draco had just said. He blinked slowly. "What are you...?"

"I want all of you, Harry." The words sprang from Draco's tongue and floated in the air like feathers around him. Even his body seemed to be floating skyward, carried by a powerful wave of ecstasy and apprehension that could only be born of the awful truth.

Before Harry could react, Draco had wrenched his body close and landed his lips clumsily against his. He kissed him fully, eagerly, without restraint. His hands against Harry's cheeks dragged downward and forced the man's jaw open; every square centimeter of Draco's skin flared as he pushed his tongue against Harry's. Sheer euphoria overtook him; he raked his hands down Harry's chest and around to his shoulder blades; he pressed the man forcefully against him, giving himself up to madness...

Then he felt Harry push him gently away. As their mouths disconnected, Draco looked into his green eyes in a stupor, his jubilation ebbing as anxiety overtook him. What had he done? What had he done?

He made to pull away from Harry, but Harry held him fast. When he returned his confused gaze to Harry's face, he saw dimly that the man was thoughtfully considering him with dark eyes and a clenched jaw. Draco gritted his teeth against the dread that threatened to overcome him. Harry simply continued to drag his eyes excruciatingly slowly over Draco's face. When his gaze reached Draco's lips, Draco finally registered Harry's ragged breath, his rapid pulse...

Harry suddenly growled and returned his lips to Draco's with such enthusiasm that Draco almost cried out in relief. He clutched Draco roughly, gripped his shoulders, his arms, his waist. Draco smiled uncontrollably against Harry's lips, wild elation mingling with drunken smugness.

Harry grabbed him by the hair and grunted as he moved his mouth down to Draco's neck. The merciless bite he planted forced a small cry of pain from Draco's throat. The bliss that followed swept over Draco and prompted a half-gasp, half-laugh. "I must be a bloody masochist," he muttered.

Harry stopped and forced Draco to look into his eyes by a tug of his hair. The alarmingly evil smile twisting Harry's lips made Draco shiver.

"Good," Harry returned. "Because there are many, many misdeeds to punish you for."

Draco hid his shock by narrowing his eyes. "Aha," he said more breathlessly than he intended. "I think I've realized something very intriguing about you."

Harry rolled his eyes and answered Draco with another melting, exquisitely brutal kiss. Draco squirmed, every cell in his body screaming in protest as he pushed Harry back a bit to look into his eyes once more. Harry raised an eyebrow at him as Draco bit his lip, wondering how to word his next question.

"So," he began awkwardly. "It seems you want me as well, Potter."

"Hmm. The evidence would suggest so."

"Then you're not going to fuck me and run away in horror like last time?"

Harry gazed pensively into Draco's eyes, detecting the faintest shadow of that pained look he had seen in them once before. He shook his head very slowly.

"No..." He faltered, then continued with more confidence. "I don't fully understand what the hell I'm doing with you. I can't predict what's going to happen with Ginny. But I do know that, for some inexplicable reason, I want to get to know you, Draco Malfoy. So I'm not going to run away anymore." The corner of his mouth twitched. "That is, until you give me another reason to."

Draco could hardly wait for Harry to finish before dragging him into another kiss, slower this time, more deliberate. He moved his tongue until he finally earned a moan from Harry. Then he pulled gently away again and victoriously drank in the positively indecent expression on Harry's face.

"So," he said cordially. "Stay for dinner, Potter?"

Harry stared at him for a beat before treating him to the sound of his deep, vibrant laughter.

"Certainly."

And when they kissed again, nothing else existed.

The End.