Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/411249.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      James_Sirius/Albus_Severus
  Character:
      Albus_Severus_Potter, James_Sirius_Potter, Harry_Potter, Lily_Luna
      Potter, Ginny_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      dark_themes_of_sexuality, Sexuality, Gender_Issues, Transfiguration,
      Dubious_Consent, Sibling_Incest
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-07-19 Words: 3558
****** After the Fact of Fire ******
by snarkyscorp
Summary
     Albus is eleven years old when he realises he wants to be a girl;
     James is thirteen when he decides there is something wrong with him.
Notes
     Thanks to I for the beta help. Title borrowed from Marge Piercy's
     "For the young who want to".
 
Albus looks in the mirror for the twenty-third time that day. The frown on his
face widens as he removes his t-shirt. His body is slender, lithe, boyish; he
has the kind of face other boys envy—it is innocent and wide-eyed and sweet.
Albus looks as though he has never experienced pain or heartbreak, but that
isn't true. It's just a façade, like when he smiles even though he's aching.
Next, he removes his jeans, peels them off his skinny legs that sprouted two
inches in the past year alone. Sometimes, Albus wonders if his legs will ever
stop growing or if he will wind up as tall as Hagrid. He doesn't remember what
it is like to be short—he has always towered over his peers, is even as tall as
his brother. Albus bites the corner of his supple mouth and his nostrils flare
as he rakes his gaze down his chicken legs, which are a little hairy now and
weird looking. Albus has tried spelling the hair away, but it grows back. He
wishes it wouldn't.
Finally, Albus hooks his thumbs into the waist of his shorts. They have a
Quidditch print on them, a birthday present from Dad last year. Suddenly, he
feels way too old for themed pants, but he pushes that feeling aside for
another that rises up in his throat like bile at the sight of the thing he
hates most about his body. It hangs there limply, short and skinny and weird
looking between his legs. His pants pool at his feet obscenely while he stares.
Albus wishes he hadn't overheard Dad giving James 'The Talk' earlier. That's
what prompted him to look again, because sometimes, when he has gone a long
time without really looking, Albus can forget he is a boy, and he is happy.
Remembering, something wells up inside that he has tried to quash his entire
life but which still hurts and twists his face into fury. With a look like that
on his face, he knows he looks just like his dad, but he wishes he looked like
anybody else instead.
Albus is eleven years old when he realises he wants to be a girl.
~*~
James is thirteen when he decides there is something wrong with him. Dad just
had 'The Talk' with him, but it didn't make him feel any better.
"When a man and a woman love each other," Dad said.
A man and a woman,James thought, frowning. A man and a woman. A man and a
woman. A man and a woman…
"It's…sort of like when you have a puzzle, see…" Dad tried.
James is even more confused by this analogy, and Dad seems to realise a little
too late, after he's already tried to explain that women and men fit together
and connect but sometimes they don't do it just right. Looking at Dad's
confusion, James wishes he could tell him it's okay, that he gets where he's
going. James is not stupid, after all. He's thirteen! James knows more about
sex than his dad does, that's for sure. But something in Dad's sincerity and
concern washes James with humiliation for how he feels. So he nods instead.
Dad seems relieved to end the conversation, pats James on the back, smiles.
James smiles back. The Potter smile is contagious, so there's no helping it,
even if James isn't really happy. He thanks Dad, watches him go.
The minute James is alone, he frowns freely, bites back the tears. He wishes
Albus is there, so they can talk. Al gets him, even if he's too young to
understand what James is going through. At least Albus would listen, wouldn't
hold anything against James for being different or weird or disgusting. He
never thinks that about James, and James has always appreciated his younger
brother's knack for listening.
Later that night, James sneaks into Al's room. The lights are off, and James
can hear the gentle sound of Albus breathing deeply. It's calming, youthful,
innocent. James tries his best not to wake his brother, but when he climbs
awkwardly beside him in bed, there's no getting around it.
"James?" Albus murmurs.
Al's eyes barely peek open, and that contagious (albeit sleepy) Potter smile is
fresh on his lips. James has an insane urge to kiss it. Somehow, he is able to
get by with just a grin.
"S'me," James says. "Can't sleep. Nudge over?"
"Mm."
Albus must still be half asleep, and for that, James is thankful. Scooting up
behind Al, James fits their bodies together as he flings an arm around Al's
slender stomach. He wonders just briefly if that's what Dad meant about puzzle
pieces, even though he knows it's not the same somehow. But he and Albus do fit
together perfectly, and when James inhales the scent of his brother's freshly-
washed hair, he feels safe and comforted.
~*~
Albus tries tucking it between his legs with Spellotape, but it's uncomfortable
and it itches, and when he walks, he can still feel it rubbing between his
thighs. And Merlin forbid he catch a glimpse of Avery Whitmore changing after
Quidditch again—then it's really uncomfortable. And when he peels the tape off
at night, it hurts and leaves marks.
Something has to give. Albus knows he can't go on Spellotaping his dick between
his legs for the rest of his life, just because he wants to pretend he doesn't
have one. So he visits the library every day to look for a cure.
While his friends are laughing and playing outside, Albus sits at the back of
the library, reading up on safe transfiguration spells that can be used on body
parts. But after the fifth mention of inexperienced or underage wizards are not
recommended to try the following spells without supervision and these spells
could result in transfiguration disfigurements, which can be permanent,he
starts to worry. There are gruesome tales of Albacore Adams trying to
transfigure his legs into a fish tail to fool Muggles into thinking he was a
mermaid and having to live with fish-scale skin the rest of his life. Albus
doesn't want fish scale skin. He just wants to feel normal for once.
The books don't help much, except they do hint that what Albus wants to do is
completely possible. If he could get a good look at a vagina, he could make it
work, he's sure. After all, he's top of his class in Transfiguration, able to
do the whole teacup-to-toadstool thing with his eyes closed, and he knows that
if he tries hard enough, he can make it happen. He can transfigure his dick
into something better, something that he wants, something he won't have to
Spellotape away like a horrible secret.
"What are you trying to transfigure?" James asks, his body invading Albus'
space as he wraps his arms around his shoulders and peers over them.
"Nothing!" Albus slams his book shut, feels his face heating up so quickly that
it feels like someone set him on fire. "Nothing. Go away."
"Pfft. Fine. Merlin, what's got your knickers in a twist, Al?"
There's something about that statement that makes Albus feel even more alone
than before the books. Sniffing, he shrugs. He can feel the tears already
there, biting the backs of his eyelids in sharp, stinging little pangs. Once
they start, he knows he won't be able to stop them.
"Just leave me alone!" Albus growls. He rushes from the library and back to his
dormitory, where the drapes are drawn as quickly as possible. Behind the
comfort and solace of his drawn bed, Albus peels off his clothes, looks down at
his dick, and reaches for the Spellotape.
Albus is fourteen when he knows something has to change.
~*~
James is sixteen when he notices his brother is acting weird and something
happens because of it. Albus is acting weirder than usual, anyway, because
Albus has always been a little off in some ways. But it's kind of the thing
James loves best about Al—he's different. And he accepts every one of James'
faults and differences, without question or pause. So James should be able to
accept the fact that his brother apparently likes dressing in women's clothes
on occasion.
Except that it's really, really, really off-putting to step into his brother's
bedroom over winter holiday and catch Albus in knickers and corset, with his
full lips painted red and his hair lengthened and curled. It's even worse that
this is the first time in James' life that his dick responds to a woman.
Later, when he's taking the coldest shower he's ever known, James reminds
himself that Albus is not a woman. He is Albus Severus Potter. A boy. James'
brother. Definitely a boy last time James looked, even though he wasn't looking
on purpose.
James scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, but his dick is still hard, and when he
wraps his hand around it, the fantasies that spill out of his subconscious are
depraved and shocking, vulgar and atrocious. He sees Albus on his knees in
nothing but frilly knickers, lips parted and tongue out, and he sees himself
above Albus, his thick cock veined and full, with a dark, dark, so-red-it's-
purple head that could burst at any moment, and Albus says things like, Want to
swallow you whole and Choke me with your come and James does—he does and he is
coming and coming and coming, so hard that his knees give way and he has to
brace himself to the wall with both hands. Open-mouthed, he pants. Little
white-hot puffs huff out against the tiles.
When he is done, James leans his head against the damp tile of the shower, lets
the cold water beat down against his spine. He is panting and sweaty, lost and
alone. He is disgusting.
Then, there is a second during the post-orgasmic fog when James realises he is
not alone. Not in the bathroom anyway—someone is in there, watching. When he
jerks the shower door back, he is silently praying to the gods above for Mum to
be there. Mum or Dad or Lily or anybody but…
Their eyes meet. James' breath is caught. He hopes he didn't moan Al's name
when he came, but the way Albus stares at him, he knows he must have. James
wants to die, to be swallowed up by the drain, to be sucked down through pipes
and away and away and away forever.
"Get out of here," James whispers. He doesn't mean it.
Albus hesitates, looks him over, sets his jaw, and steps into the shower. Al is
fully clothed, has every advantage on James, and there is nothing James can do
but let his brother nudge him against the wall and press their mouths together.
Albus is still wearing the corset, the lace, the knickers, the lipstick. His
lips mouth over James', smearing the lipstick grotesquely, and James grips at
him like a starved animal, claws over his skin and bruises his flesh and Thor
Almighty he is sick, sick like something wrong, like the kind of criminals Dad
puts in Azkaban only worse.
James grunts, jerks, feels his dick hardening all over again. He is dizzy as he
shoves his brother against the glass door and holds him there. The door is
bowed with his weight. James presses harder. He leans in to go on, but Albus
stops him.
This is the moment. This is when Albus tells Dad or Mum or the Minister for
Magic or punches James in the face, and he deserves it and waits for the rush
of it to hit him like a counter-curse.
Instead, Albus whispers, "I'll do that…but you have to help me too."
~*~
It turns out that James is a lot smarter than everyone gives him credit for.
Maybe he's just been hiding his brains his entire life, but Albus never would
have thought to ask him for help with transfiguration before that day over
winter holiday. It was his last resort, and it was too easy to coerce James, to
promise him all sorts of awful, sexual things in exchange for help. Any help,
he had thought at that point, was better than nothing.
But James is actually very smart, and he shows Albus how to get a pass for the
Restricted Section library books. All Albus has to do is tell Professor
Sinclair that he wants to write a piece for the Hogwarts Ledger, that his dad
wrote him a note excusing his interest—a note from Harry Potter is worth its
weight in Galleons. James forges the note, and Albus is amazed that the
scrawled signature at the bottom is a dead ringer for their dad's sloppy
script.
For that, Albus kisses James, lets James pin him against the shelves in the
library and run his tongue down over his chest, side, and stomach. For that,
Albus moans prettily, tells James how good it feels. For that, Albus gives a
little bit of himself up, a part he knows he can shove deep down again once
this is all over and he is changed. Once he is cured and better and healed and
in the right body.
Albus is only fourteen the first time he jerks James off and feels his
brother's come splatter over his fingertips. Afterwards, he tells himself he is
okay—tells James he is okay—but he is not. Something unforgiveable has torn
inside.
~*~
James is sixteen when he goes down on a boy for the first time. He lets his
tongue loll along the underside of his brother's bright red, bulbous head,
draws the saliva down over the throbbing veins that wind their way along the
shaft. He takes Al's balls into his mouth, hears Albus moan above him. James'
hands swim over his brother's sleek body, touching every hairless plane and
angle, memorising the angular way his body is drawn.
When he looks up, Al's eyes are squeezed shut so tight that wrinkles are
showing beside his eyes and his nose is scrunched up obscenely. James knows
Albus doesn't like this, because it is reminding him that he has a dick, that
he is a boy, and though James feels a little guilty, he wants to learn, and he
loves Al, and they are trading off for things, so James will help him even more
in return. It is a bargain they've struck. A deal. It's fair. Only fair.
Albus comes fast, faster than James is really prepared for. James opens his
mouth, swallows and licks and rolls Al's softening dick between his fingers for
more. Above him, Albus whispers his name, and James knows he loves him, that it
is only fair, so he gives Albus another forged note and watches his brother
Spellotape his dick and pull his trousers back up.
When Albus is gone, James is still on his knees, and he is crying.
~*~
It takes longer than Albus thinks to master the spell. It takes a lot of
mistakes and mutated body parts and healing balms before he succeeds, and even
then, the spell is not strong, and his dick returns five minutes after it's
gone. For those five minutes, Albus is the happiest person in the world. He
runs to James, tells him how it worked and then strips himself and kneels
before his brother and swallows him so deep that it burns the back of his
throat.
James likes this best, with Albus submissive and pliant. Albus is happy enough
to give it to him, knowing it won't be much longer that he'll be what he wants
and James won't ask about it anymore, and then they can both get better.
Albus pulls James' balls with one hand, massages the base of James' prick with
two fingers on his other. He swallows and swallows and swallows until he
chokes. That's when James tells him yes, yes, just like that, choke on it,
baby, yeah, and that's when Albus fears.
But James is always quick to come, quick to orgasm, sometimes premature, before
Albus can even open his mouth. Once, James came in his trousers—Albus laughed
and then felt bad and let James lick his arse as compensation. That got James
going again, and his second orgasm came much, much more slowly.
Albus is fifteen and it is summer when he succeeds and his dick disappears.
~*~
James is seventeen, and Hogwarts is almost done when Albus starts to work on
transfiguring breasts. It's actually an engorgement spell, and James tries to
tell him it's not permanent, that he'd need to learn a darker curse for that,
but Albus says he doesn't mind applying it every few days, testing out the
varying degrees of cup-sizes.
It hurts, to be so incredibly disgusted by someone and love them completely in
the same breath. James knows that soon, very soon, Albus will be a girl, and he
won't want to be called Albus anymore. Al says he hasn't chosen a name yet,
that he is thinking of Alana or Aleyne or Aileen, but James thinks they are all
stupid.
In fact, if Albus ever thought to ask his brother's opinion on the matter,
James would tell him that the whole thing is stupid. Albus was born one way and
that's the way he should remain. Even though Al explains his pain, how he
spends every night aching inside because his body doesn't match his mind, James
doesn't get it, not really. All he knows is that the past year and a half has
been the best of his life, touching Albus and loving Albus and feeling so good
and so awful until he explodes. James will never feel this way again, he is
sure, and Albus will regret changing.
But the summer comes, and James can't go back to Hogwarts to protect him, even
if he wants to. James gives Albus a handful of forged letters for the
Restricted Section and hopes for the best.
In return, Albus strips until he is completely naked. There is no dick to
touch, but James can pretend. Albus gives the only thing left to give, bends
over and lets James prepare him for an hour before he slides his dick in and
fucks his brother into the mattress. It is the first time that Albus doesn't
make a noise, not one single noise, and it is the first time James feels guilty
for coming in such a rush and wanting more.
"Is that all?" Al asks, lying splayed on the bed.
There is a hole where Al's dick should be, and it disgusts James to look at it,
so he doesn't. "No," James says. "More."
Albus sighs, rolls over, spreads his arse cheeks, and rests his face to the
sheets. "Go on, then."
James fucks Albus so hard that Albus does begin to make noises—sad, crying,
horrible, grotesque noises, little nothing pleas like stop – don't – please –
not like that – slower – James, please, James please!
James is only satisfied when it's over and he can cry.
~*~
Albus is sixteen when he comes home for the winter holiday and shows his
parents what he has done. Dad stares at him like he thinks it's a joke. Mum is
gaping like a fool. Lily tries to smile, is the first person to ask when he
knew he was a girl. James laughs.
Inside, Al feels ashamed for the first time about the way he looks now hearing
James laugh like that. Without thought, he hexes James' mouth shut—tiny little
strings thread into his lips and skin and muscle and sew him up. That stops
James laughing.
Eventually, Dad calms down, and Mum takes him to St. Mungo's to have him looked
at. She says, It's okay, it's okay, like a mantra, and Al wishes he could hex
her mouth shut too. But the Healers tell them he looks okay, that the spells
were performed properly, that he should be very careful but that if needs
medical assistance, he can come by again sometime.
"She," Al snaps, angry even though he is happy. "I'm a she now."
Mum weeps. Al knows it will take time, but he can't help but feel bitter that
she is so upset. She has no reason to be upset.
Later, they talk. Dad hugs him, says he will accept him as a daughter if that's
what makes him happy. Al cries and cries and cries. Something inside gives way.
He wishes James didn't hate him.
~*~
James is twenty-two when he comes out. Dad is okay with it; Mum says she has
known for ages; Lily asks if he has a boyfriend. Al—Alana now, but James only
calls him Al—laughs. James ignores him, answers that his boyfriend, Marcus,
will be coming to visit for Christmas.
When Marcus meets the family, James doesn't want to introduce him to Al, but he
does, reluctantly. Marcus has handsome green eyes. Marcus notices they are just
like Al's. Marcus has a sloppy, unkempt head of dark hair. Al's is longer, but
there is so much resemblance in the photos on the mantelpiece from years ago.
Later, Marcus laughingly suggests that he resembles James' sister.
"That's my brother," James says. He doesn't correct the other part. Marcus
doesn't ask.
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