More Than Our Abilities (Part Four)
Jun. 1st, 2009 09:10 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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hp_misfitficsTitle: More Than Our Abilities (Part Four)
Author: Bird G
Characters: Scorpius Malfoy, Rose Weasley, Al Potter and a few others.
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Word Count: 7,128
Author's Notes: Thanks to my betas![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
libbi and shiiki for all their help! Concrit is always welcome and appreciated. And, of course, the characters and world belong to JKR. I am merely borrowing them. One line here was inspired by a quip from the television show, Scrubs.
Finally, I spell it "Asteria" because that's how JKR spelled it on the Weasley Family Tree.
(Part Three.)
Head in hand, Scorpius leaned against the window and watched the winter landscape pass by him. Inside their compartment, Rose and Regina were cleaning up from their last game of Exploding Snap while Al tried to explain to Bo why his parents were famous.
“...And my dad, he killed this wizard that had killed his parents along with a lot of other people.”
Scorpius did a double take at that, “killed” not being the verb he'd use to describe what had happened to Voldemort. Rose had the same objections, judging from her furrowed brow. Their eyes met for a minute and Scorpius felt his mouth twisting into a sneer before looking away. Time had done little to ease his bruised feelings over not being picked as Seeker. If anything, watching Rose win two games had only made him more bitter. He tried to console himself by imagining her cousins – both Seekers, one for Ravenclaw and the other for Hufflepuff – let her win. It didn't help much.
“Why did he kill your grandparents?”
“He was really after my dad, he – Voldemort – thought my dad was going to be threat to him.”
Bo thought about this, becoming more confused as he did. “But... he was.”
“Yeah, but... Voldemort was evil. He and his followers – the Death Eaters – killed a lot of people.”
“Did your grandparents kill people?
“No!” Al was offended at the question.
“Then why did he think your dad was a threat?”
“Because... he did....”
Having a feeling they'd continue in circles if someone didn't intervene, Scorpius sighed and turned towards them. “You're both going in circles. Listen, Voldemort was obsessed with two things: living forever and blood purity. Now, blood purity means he hated muggles, Muggleborns and anyone who didn't have purely wizarding ancestry. Lots of people say it was because his dad was a Muggle and Voldemort blamed him for abandoning him and his mum," he said with an air of authority. "Anyway, when he arrived at Hogwarts he found a lot of other people who felt the same way and eventually he formed a group called the Death Eaters. They attacked people like muggles, Muggleborns and those that liked them. A group was formed to stop them, they were called the Order of the Phoenix. Lily and James Potter – Al's grandparents – were part of the group and they fought the Death Eaters and Voldemort. One day there was a prophecy that a baby was going to be born and that either Voldemort or the baby would kill the other because they both couldn't live while the other did. That prophecy was about Al's dad – Harry Potter.”
“How do you know all this?” Al sputtered, flummoxed by this new information.
“I've read lots of books. Didn't your parents tell you any of this?”
Al shook his head but Rose spoke. “My parents did, some. Only when I asked.”
“You didn't tell me!”
“I did so! I told you about the blood purity parts.”
“Yeah, but you didn't mention the rest!”
Rose put her hands on her hips. “Well, how could I? I didn't know the rest!”
“Do you want to hear the rest?” Scorpius interrupted.
Al and Bo both nodded so Scorpius continued, relaying as much as he could from memory. (Which was quite a bit.) By the time they neared Platform 9 3/4's he was onto the final battle.
“Wands know who their owners are and the Elder Wand knew that it really belonged to Al's dad even if Voldemort possessed it. When Voldemort cast the Killing Curse it backfired and killed Voldemort instead. Al's dad didn't exactly kill Voldemort, it was more...” he searched around for the right word. The phrase 'happy coincidence' came to mind but that sounded a bit cruel, even if it was Voldemort they were talking about here. “It was an accident.”
The compartment was silent, Regina glancing between Al and Rose, waiting for them to speak.
Left dumbstruck by all this information, Al said, “I didn't know all that.” Only to perk up as another thought came to him. “I can't wait to tell James – he'll flip!”
***
Soon upon arrival at King's Cross Station, Bo and Regina joined their parents, leaving the other three to navigate through the crowds. Scorpius spotted his parents right off: their backs turned, he could see his mother's long black hair pulled up into a bun and his father's hand on her back as he guided her through the throngs of people. He ignored the stab of guilt he felt as he pulled up the hood on his cloak and moved far enough so he'd be hidden beside Al and Rose. It's not that he didn't want to see his parents but he'd already seen them loads of times over the holidays. This, however, was his best chance at meeting Harry Potter in person.
“You don't see them anywhere?” Al asked, scanning the crowds even though he had no idea what Scorpius' parents looked like.
“Nope,” Scorpius added, with barely a glance around them.
“You don't think they forgot what day it was, do you?”
“No... They're probably here somewhere, lost in the crowds.” Well, they were now, Scorpius thought as he looked behind him at where he'd last seen his parents.
“Rosie!” came a shout. Scorpius turned around to see a tall red-headed man waving at them. Beside him was a woman who – judging from the hair – had to be Rose's mum. Along with the couple he spotted the two red-headed men he'd seen in the joke shop and Al's mother walking beside them.
“Dad!” Rose broke off into a run.
“If you don't find your parents, I reckon you can come home with us,” Al told him. Even though he knew his parents were here, looking for him, Scorpius was sorely tempted to do just that.
“Like hell he can!”
Scorpius knew that voice. James and Freddy had appeared behind them. “He's not coming home with us.”
“He's my friend and I can invite him home if I want to.”
“Like Mum and Dad want some foul little Death Eater spawn in their--”
“James!” The hissed name came from James and Al's mother, who was hurrying towards them with a cross look on her face for her eldest son. She pulled him aside, likely admonishing him from the way James shrunk back.
Al looked positively gleeful at this dressing down, whispering to Scorpius. “Mum's gonna make him apologize now, he hates that.”
Sure enough, James soon marched up to Scorpius and offered a muttered, “Sorry,” before bolting away towards his cousins. Mrs. Potter sighed, rolling her eyes and looking tempted for a moment to go after him. The moment passed when she remembered Scorpius was still there. “Hello, Scorpius. It's nice to finally meet you,” she grinned at her son with the next words, “Al's told us a lot about you.”
Gamely extending his hand, Scorpius responded, “It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Potter.”
“Dad! Dad!” Al called, waving excitedly. At first, all Scorpius could see was Rose's dad but then Harry Potter stepped out from behind the other man, talking to a smaller redhead girl Scorpius assumed was Lily. Rather than being the eternally-eighteen, larger-than-life figure he'd known from Chocolate cards and books, Scorpius found that the real Harry Potter was a graying man who was dwarfed in height by Mr. Weasley. He was quite ordinary-looking, indistinguishable from any of the other fathers here and Scorpius found that unsettling.
“Dad! Scorpius told me all about the war and what you did.” The conversations around them halted as the adult members of the Weasley-Potter clan exchanged looks. Scorpius could feel his face flushing at the sudden attention.“You never told us that there was a prophecy. And about the Death Eaters and all that stuff about blood!”
“Well, it's a long story...”
Lily, still holding her father's hand, pulled on it to get his attention. “What's a Death Eater?”
“Er...”
“I'll tell you later, Lils, Scorpius told us all about them on the train.” Mr. Weasley snorted at this only to be hushed by his Rose's mum. “Dad, is it true his Grandmum saved your life?”
Bemused, Mr. Potter rubbed the back of his neck. “She did. It's a long story but Narcissa Malfoy lied to Voldemort--”
“Who's Voldemort?” asked a boy next to Rose. Like her he was freckled and had curly hair but his was brown instead of red.
“After the Killing Curse,” Al said, nodding. “Scorpius told us about that. Do you still have the Elder Wand?”
James had chosen this moment to reappear, standing between Freddy and George Weasley and avidly interested in the answer to Al's question.
“Short answer: no.” James' shoulders slumped. “Long answer: we'll talk about that at home.”
“Scorpius.” Mrs. Potter was looking at him with concern. “Where are your parents?”
“Er... I don't know, I couldn't find them.”
“His parents might have forgot what day it was,” Al said hurriedly. “Can he come home with us if they did?”
“I'm sure they didn't forget,” Mrs. Potter reassured him. Scorpius nodded, trying to look as if he might be worried that they had instead of knowing they were off searching for him at this very moment.
“Can he, Mum?” Al repeated.
“No way!” James exclaimed, answering for his parents. “Dad, you're not going to let--”
“James, what did I just tell you?”
“But Mum!”
Al's dad sighed, “James, stop.” Before his son could protest, Mr. Potter shot him a quelling look. “This isn't a discussion.”
James wasn't ready to give up just yet. “What about all that stuff you and Uncle Ron always said about the Malfoys?” That sinking feeling returned. It was harder and harder to ignore what James was saying. “All the things they did--”
“Scorpius!”
He turned to see his parents standing behind him. In his black coat and dark clothes, his dad looked paler than usual. From the set of his jaw Scorpius knew his dad was annoyed and he was in for a lecture. Next to her husband, Asteria Malfoy provided a vivid contrast in her red coat, her cheeks flushed pink and her blue-green eyes (identical to his own) shining brightly. Her gloved hands rested on her swollen belly and she gave a tired little sigh.
“We've been looking everywhere,” his father drawled, extending a hand. “Come along.”
Asteria, however, stilled her husband with a hand on his arm, “Maybe Scorpius would like to introduce us to his friends?” His dad looked terribly uninterested in meeting his friends but nodded.
“Er, Mum and Dad, that's Al Potter,” Al waved happily, “and that's Rose Weasley,” she raised a shy hand, “and er... well, that's the rest of their family,” he finished with a gesture towards the various other Weasleys and Potters gathered.
“You don't say,” his dad murmured.
His mum, on the other hand, smiled warmly. “It's a pleasure meeting you Rose, Al. Scorpius has told us so much about you both.” As if hoping to anchor him, Asteria linked her arm through her husband's before she said the next words. “We'd be happy to have you both visit, if you have free time over holiday.”
An awkward silence hovered over the group as Rose and Al's parents stared at each other as if trying to communicate non-verbally. Finally Rose's dad spoke. “They'll be busy. Family stuff, y'know. Holidays and all....”
While Scorpius didn't understand what was between his parents and the Weasley-Potter clan, he understood enough to know a lie when he heard one. Even more disheartening to him was that Harry Potter remained silent. Instead it was Mrs. Weasley who spoke, brushing her curly brown hair behind her ear as she glanced at Mrs. Potter, again trying her hand at non-verbal communication. “I don't think we'll be that busy. Not every day, at least. Perhaps it would be easier if Scorpius were to come to visit us?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Potter nodded, shooting baleful looks at her brother and husband as if daring either to disagree. “It might be easier if he came to visit us since we'll be entertaining guests anyway.”
Draco looked ready to object to this but Asteria tightened her grip on his arm. “Certainly. I'll be in touch. Hopefully we can decide on something that works for all our schedules.”
“Yes, hopefully,” his dad echoed unconvincingly. “Well, come along, Scorpius. We should be heading home.”
Scorpius and his mum bid their good-byes before Draco ushered them away. Once they were out of ear-shot with the car park in sight, Draco began his lecture. “Scorpius, I shouldn't have to repeat myself: you aren't to wander off like that. It's dangerous for you and it's unfair to your mother and I.”
“I know,” Scorpius mumbled, knowing that agreeing with his dad and acting contrite was the only way this would be over quickly.
“I don't think you do. Do you know how hard all that walking is on your poor mother? She gets fatter and fatter every day, she can't get around like she used to.”
He turned around in time to see his mum swatting at his dad, both grinning. “Fuck off,” Asteria murmured quietly, pushing back a dark tendril of hair that had fallen loose from her bun.
“Listen to that filthy little mouth on you! And you blame me for Scorpius' bad language.”
Scorpius looked over his shoulder. “But you swear much more than Mum.”
Draco pointedly ignored this. “I hope you don't continue this with our daughter or God knows what her first words will be.”
This day was becoming worse and worse. Not even trying to hide his disappointment, Scorpius whined, “It's a girl?”
Why couldn't he have a brother? His family was overrun with girls! Elodie, Fiona, Mairi and now little baby whatever. At least his dad would be happy. He'd been insisting the baby would be a girl since Mum announced her pregnancy. Scorpius had loudly hoped otherwise while his mum had said that all she wanted was a healthy baby. Draco didn't let up, however, only considering girls' names (even when Scorpius suggested boys' names) and decorating the nursery in pink. Scorpius had been the one to spill the beans when he arrived home for Rosh Hashanah. His mum had wanted him to change it to green like they had agreed on but Draco refused: they were having a girl.
And he'd been right.
“Yes, it is,” his mum confirmed. “I hope you're not too disappointed.”
Back turned to them, Scorpius shrugged. No one had asked him in the first place. He trudged over to the car, a large black Bentley with a chauffeur waiting outside. They didn't own the car though his mum desperately wanted one having always been fascinated with the Muggle machines. They rented from a car service owned and operated by Arthur Weasley and Christopher Knight, the latter of whom also owned the Knight Bus. It was from their Muggle-to-Magic line, automobiles that could be used out in the Muggle world but were enchanted in various ways to also avoid detection by Muggles if necessary. Along with the Knight Bus and the car service, the two wizards also operated the bus service for the wizarding primary school that had opened three years prior and sold their automobiles all over the world. (Though Rose had once mentioned they sold far more cars in the States than they did anywhere else.)
His parents caught up to him, Draco running his hand through his son's hair while the chauffeur helped Asteria into the car. “No need to be so glum. Boy or girl, babies are all the same.”
“They sleep and eat all the time? Then cry when they're not doing either?” Scorpius said, following his mum into the car.
“Only the first few months,” Draco said once inside. He looked right at Scorpius, a small amused smirk on his face as he said the next bit. “After that they can be quite fun. Like having a dog that slowly learns how to talk.”
Scorpius would rather the dog. Knowing better than to say that, he settled in next to his mum – Draco sitting across from them – and shrugged again. “I'll be at Hogwarts most of the time so I doubt I'll see her much.”
This idea made him feel much better though judging from the exasperated look on his dad's face, Scorpius was the only one cheered by this outlook.
“That's one way of looking at it,” was Draco's dry response.
“How have classes been?” his mum asked, intent on changing the subject. “Your Uncle Ernie mentioned that Slytherin beat Hufflepuff in the last game.”
“I guess they did.” Scorpius had seen the game - from the bench with the other reserve players.
“You shouldn't feel bad that you didn't make the team this year,” his dad told him. “I didn't make it my first year either.”
Asteria nodded her head in agreement. “Most people don't. Besides, you would have had to miss a lot of games with your B'nai Mitzvah classes this year.”
“Yeah, I would,” Scorpius mused, for the first time thinking about the time conflict his classes would have posed. While he was still determined to make the team next year – preferably as Seeker – he'd been looking forward to his Bar Mitzvah for as long as he could remember. Since he was eight years old, at least. That had been the year they had returned to England for Nitza Goldstein's Bat Mitzvah and his mum informed him that in a few short years, it'd be his turn.
“And there are things in life besides Quidditch you know, Hogwarts has many other clubs for you to join: there's the newspaper, the Potions Club, the Chess Club--”
“No, not that,” Scorpius said quickly. Rose was a member of the Chess Club and from the sounds of it – bloody good at that too. She didn't need one more thing to best him at.
“I thought you liked chess?”
“Not enough to join a club devoted to it.”
His mum didn't look convinced but let it slide. “There's also the Charms Club, the Glee Club – oh, why not the Gobstones Club? You love Gobstones.”
“Perhaps you should think about the Dueling Club,” his dad suggested.
“Don't you think that's a bit dangerous?” Asteria asked with a frown.
Draco snorted. “Believe me, if he joins any of the clubs you just mentioned, he'll need to know how to duel.”
***
Avebury House, though not nearly as grand as Malfoy Manor nor even the estate they stayed in while living in India, was a handsome gentleman's residence not too far from the Malfoys' ancestral home. Aside from his own room that overlooked the sprawling gardens - now covered with a dusting of snow - Scorpius' favorite rooms were the library and the billiard room. It was in the former where he found his mum sitting at the desk, working on the seating plan for tonight's party.
Not wanting to disturb her, he went straight for one of the book-lined walls, searching for something to read. Scorpius wasn't really in the mood for reading but it was the only thing left to do. He couldn't go outside again because his mum didn't want him tracking mud in again. He couldn't play with Scout because his ferret was now curled up on his bed in the midst of one of her fifteen hour “naps”. And he couldn't Firecall Al whom he hadn't seen since they'd left Platform 9 3/4's because the other boy was spending the day with his godmother and her family as they searched for Nargles.
So Scorpius walked from shelf to shelf, humming and sighing to himself as he picked up book after book only to find each wanting and returning them all to their respective spots. There were several interesting-looking books in one lower corner and Scorpius grabbed three but tired with them as soon as he peered inside. When trying to return the three, he tripped on the end of the rug and sent the books flying.
"Are you all right?" his mum asked, standing from the desk, an amused smile on her face. Using her wand, she gathered up the books for him and sent them back to their respective spaces on the shelf.
"I was looking for something to read."
"So I gathered. Anything in particular?"
"Something political." He'd been refining his career goals and had decided he'd like to be Minister for Magic one day.
His mum quirked an eyebrow at this. "Did you want a history of wizarding politics or something on a specific political issue?"
"Neither. Just politics in general." He looked around, brows furrowed as he tried to think. There was a book, he wasn't sure if it was Muggle or wizard, that was supposed to be one of the most important political books ever written. He'd heard it reference loads of times, though mostly it was the author's name and not the book itself, but he couldn't remember that either. Scorpius tried describing it to his mum, "...and it's about what people should do and I think the author is an Italian bloke--"
"Il Principe?" Asteria asked, then clarified, "Machiavelli's The Prince?"
As soon as he heard the name, he knew that was the book he had wanted. "Yes, that it's! We have that right?"
"Well, we do," his mum said, frowning slightly. Scorpius wondered if it was a gory or violent book but he'd read scads of those in Grandfather's library - though he wasn't supposed to. Maybe it was something else about the book. Thinking about it, he didn't think he'd ever heard 'Machiavellian' used in a positive way. This realization just made him more curious about it and he hoped his mum wasn't going to dissuade him.
"I guess it doesn't matter," his mum muttered, more to herself than him. "It's an easier read than The Odyssey or Beowulf and Madam Petrie had you read both of those."
Pointing her wand at one shelf, Asteria summoned a slim leather-bound book, handing it off to her son. "Why politics?"
"I've decided I might want to go into politics one day," he said with all the casualness of describing what he'd had for lunch that afternoon.
She sat down on one of the couches, beckoning for him to join her. "Do you want to sit on the Wizengamot like your Uncle Ernie or something else?"
"Sort of... I want to be Minister for Magic!"
Asteria grinned. "Your grandfather will be happy to hear that. Any reason why?"
"I want to help people? Or change things to make them better for everyone.” He couldn't quite put it into words, it made sense to him even if seemed all jumbled-up in his head. “I reckon since Minister is an important job with lots of power, it seems the best way to do that?"
“That's a good reason,” his mum assured him. “Though there are lots of jobs that let you help people, not just Minister for Magic.”
“I know.” A thought came to Scorpius. “Are you and dad upset that I don't want to go into your potions business?”
“No! What made you think that?”
“I dunno,” he said, thumbing through the book in his hands. Being around Al – and to a lesser extent, Rose – these past few months had started to make him wonder. Al still felt bad that he wasn't a Quidditch player despite all the letters and gifts from home and Rose had taken to obsessing over who her father cheered for when she was playing Quidditch as some way of divining his true feelings over her sorting.
“Darling, your dad and I want you to do whatever makes you happy. If that's politics than so be it. I can tell you, neither of us ever thought we'd be running a potions business. But here we are.”
Scorpius nodded, knowing from snippets of conversations over the years that it was the truth. His mum had once been a Healer for St. Mungo's working in the Janus Thickney Ward. As for his dad, Grandmother had hoped that he would sit on the Wizengamot one day like his own forefathers had. Both the Blacks and the Malfoys once had hereditary seats at parliament and both families had lost them during the first war. Narcissa had hoped her son would be the one to restore his family to its proper place in wizarding society.
Asteria wrapped an arm around her son. “Besides, we'd prefer employees that think of potions as something more than a way to make cauldrons explode.”
“I know there's more to it than that!” The explosions were just more fun that making a proper potion.
“I'll take it as a good sign then that Professor Pucey hasn't had to owl us about any Potions-related mishaps?”
“Yes,” he said, chest puffing out. “I've received perfect scores on the last three practicals.”
It helped that Al – who had a dab hand for the class – was his partner for Potions. Scorpius only had to copy everything his friend did for a good mark.
“Good! Your dad was a little worried--” his mum was now looking past him, aiming her wand at the window. Turning around, he could see a strange owl at the window. It was too small to be Ladon and too dark to be Hekate. Asteria opened the window and the owl flew right up to her, holding out its leg. Once Asteria had untied the small scroll, the owl flew right back out the window, not waiting for a response.
“Who's that from?”
“I'm not sure,” his mum muttered, unrolling the parchment. “Oh, it's Mrs. Goyle. She won't be attending tonight.” She clucked her tongue in disappointment. “Your dad didn't think she would.”
For as long as Scorpius could remember, his dad would try to invite Mrs. Goyle to one event or another and she would refuse. Despite having known of the woman all his life, he had never met her and he doubted he ever would. Judging from their lack of reactions to each refusal, his parents never expected her to accept but still asked. He knew his dad must feel bad for her – her husband had been killed in the second war and her son had died under mysterious circumstances. The official report had ruled it a suicide but Draco had never believed that. The few times Scorpius could recall the topic being discussed in front of him, his dad's response had always been the same: ”They expect me to believe that a wizard who weighing over 20 stone hanged himself with a sock? And while supposedly under watch in a holding cell?”
His family weren't the only ones who doubted the official version of events. As noted in one of the unauthorized biographies of Harry Potter; Goyle's death led to a shake-up in the Auror department that ended with Potter becoming the youngest Head Auror in over a century.
“Did she say if she's visiting her sister?” Draco asked after Asteria called him into the room to tell him the news.
“No,” she handed the letter over to him. “Do you want to try visiting her?”
“You know she'll just say she's busy.” Asteria nodded in assent and Draco huffed, throwing up his hands. “Yeah, why not? Maybe one of these days she'll surprise us.”
The pair fell silent, his mum tapping her open palm with the scroll while his dad frowned into the lit fireplace.
“How's the decorating coming?” Asteria asked. “Are the fairy lights up yet?”
“They're up, yeah, but I'm about to hex them to pieces.” Before she could ask, he continued, “They won't listen and stay lit. One goes out, they all go out.”
“Whatever you do, don't yell at them. If you scare them too much they'll just curl up into balls and stay that way for the rest of the night.”
“I haven't been yelling at them,” Draco grumbled.
“Of course you haven't," Asteria said smoothly, not believing a word of it. "Maybe Scorpius will help you.”
“Maybe.” He glanced over at Scorpius, one side of his mouth twisted up into a grin. “Fancy learning the Imperius Curse today?”
Scorpius laughed, though he knew there was a kernel of truth there. While he may not learn it today, if his dad got annoyed enough he might see it in action. He agreed to help, keeping the book with him, knowing it would come in handy if tonight's party was as dull as he expected it to be.
“Please don't use dark curses on the decorations!” Asteria called as they left the library. It was probably a good thing that his mum was too far away to hear Draco say under his breath, “Imperio doesn't really count.”
***
Grandmère Hélène was a tall, elegant woman known for her good looks and charming personality. At the moment, however, she was displaying none of her renowned charm and her looks were marred by her making a face reminiscent of someone who had swallowed a very bitter pill. The object of her distaste was the Christmas tree in the corner, a concession to her husband's upbringing that Asteria happily made every year.
“I can't believe he made her put that up in her home,” she said, not noticing Scorpius had slipped away from the girls to wander around the party. “There's no need for it. Scorpius is too old and the baby hasn't arrived.”
“I'm sure Scorpius likes the presents, Mother,” was Auntie Kallisto's reply. The eldest of the Greengrass girls, she tended to agree with her mother on most things – including their shared distaste for Draco and his parents. She was never as bold as Grandmère in her opinions but Scorpius knew how she felt. Draco's decision not to convert and to continue celebrating Christmas and Easter were the only things Kallisto and Daphne wouldn't begrudge him.
His grandmère wasn't so open-minded. Sniffing, she glared at the tree as if it had personally offended her. “There's no need for it. And don't make any excuses for him. I was devout, I went to Mass every Sunday, I even wanted to be a nun as a young girl! But I still converted because I loved your father and knew what his religion meant to him. I was willing to make that sacrifice.”
Kallisto and Daphne, looking almost identical from this angle with their honey blonde hair done up and both wearing satin dresses in near-matching shades of blue, exchanged a look. Apparently in that shared look they had decided it was Daphne's turn to make a half-hearted defense of their brother-in-law. “I don't see what the problem is. Tree or no tree, Scorpius and the new baby are still the only ones being raised Jewish.”
“I don't know why your sister couldn't stay with Anthony Goldstein, he was so much better for her,” his grandmère continued bitterly, seemingly not hearing what Daphne had said. “Instead he married that silly Lilac woman--”
“Lavender,” Daphne corrected.
“And your sister...” her voice trailed off, Hélène pursing her lips as if the truth was too awful to be said aloud. Waving her hand, his grandmère stood abruptly, announcing, “I need a stiff drink.”
Scorpius moved on, passing by his cousins, still in their clump talking about singer and perennial Witch Weekly favorite, Paris Hobday. Normally he could count on Fiona to keep him company during these get-togethers but she seemed to have fallen under the sway of the crooning wizard as well.
Nearby was Fiona and Mairi's father, Ernie Macmillan. It was odd not seeing him talking to any of the Greengrasses or Scorpius other uncle, Roger Davies, like he usually did at these parties. Instead he was deep in conversation with Mafalda Prewett's husband, Dennis Creevey, and the couple sitting on the couch; Padma Patil and her husband Minh Nguyen. The Nguyens had worked at St. Mungo's the same time as Asteria and she had eventually become close friends with both.
After eavesdropping on their conversation for a few minutes, Scorpius realized his uncle had some shared history with both Mrs. Nguyen and Mr. Creevey.
“I hope you remembered those time we spiked the Carrows' drinks at dinner so they'd pass out and wouldn't be able to oversee detentions.” Smiling at her husband, Mrs. Nguyen added, “I brewed the sleeping potion.”
“How about the time we helped those Muggleborns escape the castle by using the Aging Potion the Weasley twins gave us?” Mr. Creevey, laughing at the memory. “Poor Hannah and Lavender had chin whiskers for days after.”
“Don't worry,” his Uncle Ernie said coolly. “I've included all of it. My publisher says it might be the definitive book on that year.”
“You're writing a book?” Scorpius asked, causing all four adults to look over at him in surprise.
“I am indeed, chum.”
“About the war?”
“Er, yes.” Out of the corner of his eye, Scorpius could see Mr. Creevey glance nervously at Mrs. Nguyen.
“Can I read it when you're done?
“Of course you may!” his Uncle Ernie said quickly. “Though I think your mum has first dibs.”
“That's okay. I can wait.” After he said that, Scorpius realized his uncle probably wanted his mum to read the book first to make certain it was suitable for him. He vowed to try and get his hands on a copy as soon as he could.
In what he highly doubted was a coincidence, the conversation between the adults changed from their exploits at Hogwarts to who would make it to next year's World Cup. Scorpius soon became bored and walked off, careful not to make eye contact with Mei as he passed her by. She looked every bit as bored as he felt, swinging her legs as she sat and listened to her parents talk with his grandmother. His grandparents greatly enjoyed Blaise and Su's company and would often spend most of their time at any such gathering talking with them to the exclusion of most everyone else – save for Draco and Scorpius.
This time though it was just his grandmother and Scorpius assumed his grandfather was where he'd last seen him – in the billiards room playing pool with Draco.
He briefly considered going back there and watching the game but paused when he noticed his grandmère heading right in the direction of Asteria's two best mates from her Hogwarts' days – Mafalda Prewett-Creevey and Joy Dorny. Both former Slytherins, Mrs. Prewett-Creevey was a reporter for the Daily Prophet who swore like a dragon-tamer and Ms. Dorny was the current owner of the Hog's Head who smoked like chimney. After Draco and his parents, they were Hélène Greengrass' least favorite people in the world. On several occasions his grandmère had all but said that associating with those two had all but led Asteria down a path of cigarette-smoking, rule-breaking and Quidditch-playing which eventually culminated in marrying an ex-Death Eater.
Scorpius frowned, still uncomfortable with that part of his dad's past. Sometimes he nearly convinced himself it wasn't the same thing as those other Death Eater's he'd heard about: that his dad hadn't felt the same way they had and had only joined to protect his parents. It made sense to him but he knew it wasn't quite right.
Spotting Asteria coming to join her friends, his grandmère thought better of whatever she had intended to say to the two women and returned to her seat by her elder daughters.
Having almost completed his turn around the room, he passed by his grandpapa and Uncle Roger and stopped in his tracks when they mention Muggle computers. It turned out they were discussing Grandpapa Linus' Squib brother Philip. He had married a fellow Squib and to the family's disappointment, none of his children had been Magic.
“There's some university in the States that said to be very good for the subject, so Sofia may end up working there.”
Roger nodded thoughtfully at this. “I hear there's quite a few good Muggle schools across the pond, at least for the sciences.”
“My brother tells me the same thing. Which, to be frank, surprised me--”
“Ironic, isn't it?” Lucius drawled, walking over to where Linus and Roger stood by the fireplace. Evidently he had finished his billiard game. “How weak blood can persist, infecting generation after generation.”
Linus was white-faced with fury, his hand gripping the cup in his hand so tightly that Scorpius nearly expected it to shatter. Scorpius looked to his uncle for help but Roger had taken a keen interest in the painting over the mantelpiece.
Rather pleased with the effect he had, Lucius smiled and added in a soft voice, “I've always thought of it as a cancer - you can never really destroy it.”
Eyes darting between Lucius and his father-in-law, Roger gave an uneasy laugh. “Now, now. It's the holidays. Maybe--”
“Subtlety was never your strong suit, Lucius,” Linus interrupted. “Perhaps you should just come out and say what's on your mind.”
Before he could, Scorpius' mother joined them, a smile on her face that didn't match the hard look in her eyes. “Did I hear you mention Uncle Philip's girl? Isn't it exciting? I hear computer engineering is very important work.” Laying a light hand on Lucius' arm, she added, “Something Lucius knows a little about, isn't that right?”
Glancing at her hand with open disdain, he sneered, “I'm certain I don't.”
Asteria's smile sharpened into something almost feral. “Of course you do! Your cousin, Alphonse. He's an engineer too. He works with those muggles that go up into space. The astrobots.”
“Astronaut,” Scorpius corrected.
“That's it! Astronaut. Thank you, darling.” Her smile was warmer now as she gazed on the small group and her hands returned to rest on her belly. “Oh, but he doesn't go up into space.”
“ A-a cousin?” Uncle Roger sputtered, clearly unaware of what to say.
Asteria merely nodded. “Yes. A second cousin to be precise, son of Lucius' Aunt Aurelia – Abraxas' sister. Such a dear woman, passed away a few years ago sadly.”
“Pardon me,” Lucius said dully, excusing himself from the conversation. Noticing that Grandmère Hélène had seen the conversation between her husband and Lucius and was heading towards him, Scorpius knew he had to do something before all hell broke loose.
“Grandfather!” he said, hurrying after him. “Would you teach me how to play billiards?”
Lucius looked over at him in surprise. “Why didn't you ask earlier?”
Scorpius could only shrug in response.
“Very well.” The two left the parlor for the billiards room, his grandfather leading the way. “So you've never played before?”
“Not really.” He had tried once but couldn't figure out how to hold the cue properly or how to make the pockets appear on the table.
“We'll start with something simple then,” Lucius began before launching into an explanation. His grandfather handed him one of the cue sticks and pointed to the four balls on the table, telling him what each was. “What you need to remember is that like every Wizard's Chess set is different, so is every Wizard's Billiards table. Some have sets where the balls shout and hurl abuse at each other when they're hit, some have tables where small ridges appear on the surface to knock the ball off course. On this particular set, not only do the pockets appear and disappear but the cue ball will explode at random intervals and when that happens you lose a turn.”
Scorpius nodded, focusing on the table.
“Let's begin, shall we?” The two played in silence at first, Scorpius concentrating fully on the game in front of him. Each time he hit the cue ball into one of the object balls, he couldn't help but be pleased. Even if he hadn't managed to pocket a single one yet.
“Pay attention to where the pockets are before you take your stroke.”
“I'm trying,” he groused, narrowing his eyes as he lined up another shot. Unfortunately for Scorpius, as soon as hit the cue ball it vanished in a puff of smoke.
Lucius made a sympathetic noise. “Rotten luck.”
Disappointed, Scorpius stood back and let his grandfather have his turn.
“Your father tells me there's a Potter and Weasley in your year at Slytherin.”
Unsure of where this was headed, Scorpius nodded. “Al and Rose. They're my friends.”
“Are they?” Lucius glanced up from the table. “Well, I'm glad to hear it.”
“Really?”
“Of course. I know your father isn't pleased about it but he needs to let old grudges die. Especially in this new world order.” His grandfather's face twisted into a sneer at the last words, his last object ball bouncing off the sides when the pocket Lucius had aimed it at disappeared.
“I thought you'd be unhappy I wasn't in Ravenclaw, like you wanted.”
“I'd never be unhappy about you being in Slytherin, even if it's no longer what it was,” his grandfather insisted, applying chalk to the cue stick tip. “Mixed blood is everywhere these days, it was only a matter of time before Slytherin was polluted as well.”
Scorpius took a deep breath and was very glad his grandfather's back was turned so he couldn't see him roll his eyes.
“The best place for you would be Durmstrang but your parents refused to listen to reason.” With that, Lucius hit his last ball into the center right pocket. He straightened up and fixed his grandson with a fond smile. “But no matter. You seem to be making the best of it at Hogwarts. I'm very proud of you, Scorpius.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, ducking his head slightly.
His grandfather clapped him on the shoulder before standing back to give him room at the table. “Your turn.”
Author: Bird G
Characters: Scorpius Malfoy, Rose Weasley, Al Potter and a few others.
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Word Count: 7,128
Author's Notes: Thanks to my betas
libbi and shiiki for all their help! Concrit is always welcome and appreciated. And, of course, the characters and world belong to JKR. I am merely borrowing them. One line here was inspired by a quip from the television show, Scrubs. Finally, I spell it "Asteria" because that's how JKR spelled it on the Weasley Family Tree.
(Part Three.)
Head in hand, Scorpius leaned against the window and watched the winter landscape pass by him. Inside their compartment, Rose and Regina were cleaning up from their last game of Exploding Snap while Al tried to explain to Bo why his parents were famous.
“...And my dad, he killed this wizard that had killed his parents along with a lot of other people.”
Scorpius did a double take at that, “killed” not being the verb he'd use to describe what had happened to Voldemort. Rose had the same objections, judging from her furrowed brow. Their eyes met for a minute and Scorpius felt his mouth twisting into a sneer before looking away. Time had done little to ease his bruised feelings over not being picked as Seeker. If anything, watching Rose win two games had only made him more bitter. He tried to console himself by imagining her cousins – both Seekers, one for Ravenclaw and the other for Hufflepuff – let her win. It didn't help much.
“Why did he kill your grandparents?”
“He was really after my dad, he – Voldemort – thought my dad was going to be threat to him.”
Bo thought about this, becoming more confused as he did. “But... he was.”
“Yeah, but... Voldemort was evil. He and his followers – the Death Eaters – killed a lot of people.”
“Did your grandparents kill people?
“No!” Al was offended at the question.
“Then why did he think your dad was a threat?”
“Because... he did....”
Having a feeling they'd continue in circles if someone didn't intervene, Scorpius sighed and turned towards them. “You're both going in circles. Listen, Voldemort was obsessed with two things: living forever and blood purity. Now, blood purity means he hated muggles, Muggleborns and anyone who didn't have purely wizarding ancestry. Lots of people say it was because his dad was a Muggle and Voldemort blamed him for abandoning him and his mum," he said with an air of authority. "Anyway, when he arrived at Hogwarts he found a lot of other people who felt the same way and eventually he formed a group called the Death Eaters. They attacked people like muggles, Muggleborns and those that liked them. A group was formed to stop them, they were called the Order of the Phoenix. Lily and James Potter – Al's grandparents – were part of the group and they fought the Death Eaters and Voldemort. One day there was a prophecy that a baby was going to be born and that either Voldemort or the baby would kill the other because they both couldn't live while the other did. That prophecy was about Al's dad – Harry Potter.”
“How do you know all this?” Al sputtered, flummoxed by this new information.
“I've read lots of books. Didn't your parents tell you any of this?”
Al shook his head but Rose spoke. “My parents did, some. Only when I asked.”
“You didn't tell me!”
“I did so! I told you about the blood purity parts.”
“Yeah, but you didn't mention the rest!”
Rose put her hands on her hips. “Well, how could I? I didn't know the rest!”
“Do you want to hear the rest?” Scorpius interrupted.
Al and Bo both nodded so Scorpius continued, relaying as much as he could from memory. (Which was quite a bit.) By the time they neared Platform 9 3/4's he was onto the final battle.
“Wands know who their owners are and the Elder Wand knew that it really belonged to Al's dad even if Voldemort possessed it. When Voldemort cast the Killing Curse it backfired and killed Voldemort instead. Al's dad didn't exactly kill Voldemort, it was more...” he searched around for the right word. The phrase 'happy coincidence' came to mind but that sounded a bit cruel, even if it was Voldemort they were talking about here. “It was an accident.”
The compartment was silent, Regina glancing between Al and Rose, waiting for them to speak.
Left dumbstruck by all this information, Al said, “I didn't know all that.” Only to perk up as another thought came to him. “I can't wait to tell James – he'll flip!”
Soon upon arrival at King's Cross Station, Bo and Regina joined their parents, leaving the other three to navigate through the crowds. Scorpius spotted his parents right off: their backs turned, he could see his mother's long black hair pulled up into a bun and his father's hand on her back as he guided her through the throngs of people. He ignored the stab of guilt he felt as he pulled up the hood on his cloak and moved far enough so he'd be hidden beside Al and Rose. It's not that he didn't want to see his parents but he'd already seen them loads of times over the holidays. This, however, was his best chance at meeting Harry Potter in person.
“You don't see them anywhere?” Al asked, scanning the crowds even though he had no idea what Scorpius' parents looked like.
“Nope,” Scorpius added, with barely a glance around them.
“You don't think they forgot what day it was, do you?”
“No... They're probably here somewhere, lost in the crowds.” Well, they were now, Scorpius thought as he looked behind him at where he'd last seen his parents.
“Rosie!” came a shout. Scorpius turned around to see a tall red-headed man waving at them. Beside him was a woman who – judging from the hair – had to be Rose's mum. Along with the couple he spotted the two red-headed men he'd seen in the joke shop and Al's mother walking beside them.
“Dad!” Rose broke off into a run.
“If you don't find your parents, I reckon you can come home with us,” Al told him. Even though he knew his parents were here, looking for him, Scorpius was sorely tempted to do just that.
“Like hell he can!”
Scorpius knew that voice. James and Freddy had appeared behind them. “He's not coming home with us.”
“He's my friend and I can invite him home if I want to.”
“Like Mum and Dad want some foul little Death Eater spawn in their--”
“James!” The hissed name came from James and Al's mother, who was hurrying towards them with a cross look on her face for her eldest son. She pulled him aside, likely admonishing him from the way James shrunk back.
Al looked positively gleeful at this dressing down, whispering to Scorpius. “Mum's gonna make him apologize now, he hates that.”
Sure enough, James soon marched up to Scorpius and offered a muttered, “Sorry,” before bolting away towards his cousins. Mrs. Potter sighed, rolling her eyes and looking tempted for a moment to go after him. The moment passed when she remembered Scorpius was still there. “Hello, Scorpius. It's nice to finally meet you,” she grinned at her son with the next words, “Al's told us a lot about you.”
Gamely extending his hand, Scorpius responded, “It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Potter.”
“Dad! Dad!” Al called, waving excitedly. At first, all Scorpius could see was Rose's dad but then Harry Potter stepped out from behind the other man, talking to a smaller redhead girl Scorpius assumed was Lily. Rather than being the eternally-eighteen, larger-than-life figure he'd known from Chocolate cards and books, Scorpius found that the real Harry Potter was a graying man who was dwarfed in height by Mr. Weasley. He was quite ordinary-looking, indistinguishable from any of the other fathers here and Scorpius found that unsettling.
“Dad! Scorpius told me all about the war and what you did.” The conversations around them halted as the adult members of the Weasley-Potter clan exchanged looks. Scorpius could feel his face flushing at the sudden attention.“You never told us that there was a prophecy. And about the Death Eaters and all that stuff about blood!”
“Well, it's a long story...”
Lily, still holding her father's hand, pulled on it to get his attention. “What's a Death Eater?”
“Er...”
“I'll tell you later, Lils, Scorpius told us all about them on the train.” Mr. Weasley snorted at this only to be hushed by his Rose's mum. “Dad, is it true his Grandmum saved your life?”
Bemused, Mr. Potter rubbed the back of his neck. “She did. It's a long story but Narcissa Malfoy lied to Voldemort--”
“Who's Voldemort?” asked a boy next to Rose. Like her he was freckled and had curly hair but his was brown instead of red.
“After the Killing Curse,” Al said, nodding. “Scorpius told us about that. Do you still have the Elder Wand?”
James had chosen this moment to reappear, standing between Freddy and George Weasley and avidly interested in the answer to Al's question.
“Short answer: no.” James' shoulders slumped. “Long answer: we'll talk about that at home.”
“Scorpius.” Mrs. Potter was looking at him with concern. “Where are your parents?”
“Er... I don't know, I couldn't find them.”
“His parents might have forgot what day it was,” Al said hurriedly. “Can he come home with us if they did?”
“I'm sure they didn't forget,” Mrs. Potter reassured him. Scorpius nodded, trying to look as if he might be worried that they had instead of knowing they were off searching for him at this very moment.
“Can he, Mum?” Al repeated.
“No way!” James exclaimed, answering for his parents. “Dad, you're not going to let--”
“James, what did I just tell you?”
“But Mum!”
Al's dad sighed, “James, stop.” Before his son could protest, Mr. Potter shot him a quelling look. “This isn't a discussion.”
James wasn't ready to give up just yet. “What about all that stuff you and Uncle Ron always said about the Malfoys?” That sinking feeling returned. It was harder and harder to ignore what James was saying. “All the things they did--”
“Scorpius!”
He turned to see his parents standing behind him. In his black coat and dark clothes, his dad looked paler than usual. From the set of his jaw Scorpius knew his dad was annoyed and he was in for a lecture. Next to her husband, Asteria Malfoy provided a vivid contrast in her red coat, her cheeks flushed pink and her blue-green eyes (identical to his own) shining brightly. Her gloved hands rested on her swollen belly and she gave a tired little sigh.
“We've been looking everywhere,” his father drawled, extending a hand. “Come along.”
Asteria, however, stilled her husband with a hand on his arm, “Maybe Scorpius would like to introduce us to his friends?” His dad looked terribly uninterested in meeting his friends but nodded.
“Er, Mum and Dad, that's Al Potter,” Al waved happily, “and that's Rose Weasley,” she raised a shy hand, “and er... well, that's the rest of their family,” he finished with a gesture towards the various other Weasleys and Potters gathered.
“You don't say,” his dad murmured.
His mum, on the other hand, smiled warmly. “It's a pleasure meeting you Rose, Al. Scorpius has told us so much about you both.” As if hoping to anchor him, Asteria linked her arm through her husband's before she said the next words. “We'd be happy to have you both visit, if you have free time over holiday.”
An awkward silence hovered over the group as Rose and Al's parents stared at each other as if trying to communicate non-verbally. Finally Rose's dad spoke. “They'll be busy. Family stuff, y'know. Holidays and all....”
While Scorpius didn't understand what was between his parents and the Weasley-Potter clan, he understood enough to know a lie when he heard one. Even more disheartening to him was that Harry Potter remained silent. Instead it was Mrs. Weasley who spoke, brushing her curly brown hair behind her ear as she glanced at Mrs. Potter, again trying her hand at non-verbal communication. “I don't think we'll be that busy. Not every day, at least. Perhaps it would be easier if Scorpius were to come to visit us?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Potter nodded, shooting baleful looks at her brother and husband as if daring either to disagree. “It might be easier if he came to visit us since we'll be entertaining guests anyway.”
Draco looked ready to object to this but Asteria tightened her grip on his arm. “Certainly. I'll be in touch. Hopefully we can decide on something that works for all our schedules.”
“Yes, hopefully,” his dad echoed unconvincingly. “Well, come along, Scorpius. We should be heading home.”
Scorpius and his mum bid their good-byes before Draco ushered them away. Once they were out of ear-shot with the car park in sight, Draco began his lecture. “Scorpius, I shouldn't have to repeat myself: you aren't to wander off like that. It's dangerous for you and it's unfair to your mother and I.”
“I know,” Scorpius mumbled, knowing that agreeing with his dad and acting contrite was the only way this would be over quickly.
“I don't think you do. Do you know how hard all that walking is on your poor mother? She gets fatter and fatter every day, she can't get around like she used to.”
He turned around in time to see his mum swatting at his dad, both grinning. “Fuck off,” Asteria murmured quietly, pushing back a dark tendril of hair that had fallen loose from her bun.
“Listen to that filthy little mouth on you! And you blame me for Scorpius' bad language.”
Scorpius looked over his shoulder. “But you swear much more than Mum.”
Draco pointedly ignored this. “I hope you don't continue this with our daughter or God knows what her first words will be.”
This day was becoming worse and worse. Not even trying to hide his disappointment, Scorpius whined, “It's a girl?”
Why couldn't he have a brother? His family was overrun with girls! Elodie, Fiona, Mairi and now little baby whatever. At least his dad would be happy. He'd been insisting the baby would be a girl since Mum announced her pregnancy. Scorpius had loudly hoped otherwise while his mum had said that all she wanted was a healthy baby. Draco didn't let up, however, only considering girls' names (even when Scorpius suggested boys' names) and decorating the nursery in pink. Scorpius had been the one to spill the beans when he arrived home for Rosh Hashanah. His mum had wanted him to change it to green like they had agreed on but Draco refused: they were having a girl.
And he'd been right.
“Yes, it is,” his mum confirmed. “I hope you're not too disappointed.”
Back turned to them, Scorpius shrugged. No one had asked him in the first place. He trudged over to the car, a large black Bentley with a chauffeur waiting outside. They didn't own the car though his mum desperately wanted one having always been fascinated with the Muggle machines. They rented from a car service owned and operated by Arthur Weasley and Christopher Knight, the latter of whom also owned the Knight Bus. It was from their Muggle-to-Magic line, automobiles that could be used out in the Muggle world but were enchanted in various ways to also avoid detection by Muggles if necessary. Along with the Knight Bus and the car service, the two wizards also operated the bus service for the wizarding primary school that had opened three years prior and sold their automobiles all over the world. (Though Rose had once mentioned they sold far more cars in the States than they did anywhere else.)
His parents caught up to him, Draco running his hand through his son's hair while the chauffeur helped Asteria into the car. “No need to be so glum. Boy or girl, babies are all the same.”
“They sleep and eat all the time? Then cry when they're not doing either?” Scorpius said, following his mum into the car.
“Only the first few months,” Draco said once inside. He looked right at Scorpius, a small amused smirk on his face as he said the next bit. “After that they can be quite fun. Like having a dog that slowly learns how to talk.”
Scorpius would rather the dog. Knowing better than to say that, he settled in next to his mum – Draco sitting across from them – and shrugged again. “I'll be at Hogwarts most of the time so I doubt I'll see her much.”
This idea made him feel much better though judging from the exasperated look on his dad's face, Scorpius was the only one cheered by this outlook.
“That's one way of looking at it,” was Draco's dry response.
“How have classes been?” his mum asked, intent on changing the subject. “Your Uncle Ernie mentioned that Slytherin beat Hufflepuff in the last game.”
“I guess they did.” Scorpius had seen the game - from the bench with the other reserve players.
“You shouldn't feel bad that you didn't make the team this year,” his dad told him. “I didn't make it my first year either.”
Asteria nodded her head in agreement. “Most people don't. Besides, you would have had to miss a lot of games with your B'nai Mitzvah classes this year.”
“Yeah, I would,” Scorpius mused, for the first time thinking about the time conflict his classes would have posed. While he was still determined to make the team next year – preferably as Seeker – he'd been looking forward to his Bar Mitzvah for as long as he could remember. Since he was eight years old, at least. That had been the year they had returned to England for Nitza Goldstein's Bat Mitzvah and his mum informed him that in a few short years, it'd be his turn.
“And there are things in life besides Quidditch you know, Hogwarts has many other clubs for you to join: there's the newspaper, the Potions Club, the Chess Club--”
“No, not that,” Scorpius said quickly. Rose was a member of the Chess Club and from the sounds of it – bloody good at that too. She didn't need one more thing to best him at.
“I thought you liked chess?”
“Not enough to join a club devoted to it.”
His mum didn't look convinced but let it slide. “There's also the Charms Club, the Glee Club – oh, why not the Gobstones Club? You love Gobstones.”
“Perhaps you should think about the Dueling Club,” his dad suggested.
“Don't you think that's a bit dangerous?” Asteria asked with a frown.
Draco snorted. “Believe me, if he joins any of the clubs you just mentioned, he'll need to know how to duel.”
Avebury House, though not nearly as grand as Malfoy Manor nor even the estate they stayed in while living in India, was a handsome gentleman's residence not too far from the Malfoys' ancestral home. Aside from his own room that overlooked the sprawling gardens - now covered with a dusting of snow - Scorpius' favorite rooms were the library and the billiard room. It was in the former where he found his mum sitting at the desk, working on the seating plan for tonight's party.
Not wanting to disturb her, he went straight for one of the book-lined walls, searching for something to read. Scorpius wasn't really in the mood for reading but it was the only thing left to do. He couldn't go outside again because his mum didn't want him tracking mud in again. He couldn't play with Scout because his ferret was now curled up on his bed in the midst of one of her fifteen hour “naps”. And he couldn't Firecall Al whom he hadn't seen since they'd left Platform 9 3/4's because the other boy was spending the day with his godmother and her family as they searched for Nargles.
So Scorpius walked from shelf to shelf, humming and sighing to himself as he picked up book after book only to find each wanting and returning them all to their respective spots. There were several interesting-looking books in one lower corner and Scorpius grabbed three but tired with them as soon as he peered inside. When trying to return the three, he tripped on the end of the rug and sent the books flying.
"Are you all right?" his mum asked, standing from the desk, an amused smile on her face. Using her wand, she gathered up the books for him and sent them back to their respective spaces on the shelf.
"I was looking for something to read."
"So I gathered. Anything in particular?"
"Something political." He'd been refining his career goals and had decided he'd like to be Minister for Magic one day.
His mum quirked an eyebrow at this. "Did you want a history of wizarding politics or something on a specific political issue?"
"Neither. Just politics in general." He looked around, brows furrowed as he tried to think. There was a book, he wasn't sure if it was Muggle or wizard, that was supposed to be one of the most important political books ever written. He'd heard it reference loads of times, though mostly it was the author's name and not the book itself, but he couldn't remember that either. Scorpius tried describing it to his mum, "...and it's about what people should do and I think the author is an Italian bloke--"
"Il Principe?" Asteria asked, then clarified, "Machiavelli's The Prince?"
As soon as he heard the name, he knew that was the book he had wanted. "Yes, that it's! We have that right?"
"Well, we do," his mum said, frowning slightly. Scorpius wondered if it was a gory or violent book but he'd read scads of those in Grandfather's library - though he wasn't supposed to. Maybe it was something else about the book. Thinking about it, he didn't think he'd ever heard 'Machiavellian' used in a positive way. This realization just made him more curious about it and he hoped his mum wasn't going to dissuade him.
"I guess it doesn't matter," his mum muttered, more to herself than him. "It's an easier read than The Odyssey or Beowulf and Madam Petrie had you read both of those."
Pointing her wand at one shelf, Asteria summoned a slim leather-bound book, handing it off to her son. "Why politics?"
"I've decided I might want to go into politics one day," he said with all the casualness of describing what he'd had for lunch that afternoon.
She sat down on one of the couches, beckoning for him to join her. "Do you want to sit on the Wizengamot like your Uncle Ernie or something else?"
"Sort of... I want to be Minister for Magic!"
Asteria grinned. "Your grandfather will be happy to hear that. Any reason why?"
"I want to help people? Or change things to make them better for everyone.” He couldn't quite put it into words, it made sense to him even if seemed all jumbled-up in his head. “I reckon since Minister is an important job with lots of power, it seems the best way to do that?"
“That's a good reason,” his mum assured him. “Though there are lots of jobs that let you help people, not just Minister for Magic.”
“I know.” A thought came to Scorpius. “Are you and dad upset that I don't want to go into your potions business?”
“No! What made you think that?”
“I dunno,” he said, thumbing through the book in his hands. Being around Al – and to a lesser extent, Rose – these past few months had started to make him wonder. Al still felt bad that he wasn't a Quidditch player despite all the letters and gifts from home and Rose had taken to obsessing over who her father cheered for when she was playing Quidditch as some way of divining his true feelings over her sorting.
“Darling, your dad and I want you to do whatever makes you happy. If that's politics than so be it. I can tell you, neither of us ever thought we'd be running a potions business. But here we are.”
Scorpius nodded, knowing from snippets of conversations over the years that it was the truth. His mum had once been a Healer for St. Mungo's working in the Janus Thickney Ward. As for his dad, Grandmother had hoped that he would sit on the Wizengamot one day like his own forefathers had. Both the Blacks and the Malfoys once had hereditary seats at parliament and both families had lost them during the first war. Narcissa had hoped her son would be the one to restore his family to its proper place in wizarding society.
Asteria wrapped an arm around her son. “Besides, we'd prefer employees that think of potions as something more than a way to make cauldrons explode.”
“I know there's more to it than that!” The explosions were just more fun that making a proper potion.
“I'll take it as a good sign then that Professor Pucey hasn't had to owl us about any Potions-related mishaps?”
“Yes,” he said, chest puffing out. “I've received perfect scores on the last three practicals.”
It helped that Al – who had a dab hand for the class – was his partner for Potions. Scorpius only had to copy everything his friend did for a good mark.
“Good! Your dad was a little worried--” his mum was now looking past him, aiming her wand at the window. Turning around, he could see a strange owl at the window. It was too small to be Ladon and too dark to be Hekate. Asteria opened the window and the owl flew right up to her, holding out its leg. Once Asteria had untied the small scroll, the owl flew right back out the window, not waiting for a response.
“Who's that from?”
“I'm not sure,” his mum muttered, unrolling the parchment. “Oh, it's Mrs. Goyle. She won't be attending tonight.” She clucked her tongue in disappointment. “Your dad didn't think she would.”
For as long as Scorpius could remember, his dad would try to invite Mrs. Goyle to one event or another and she would refuse. Despite having known of the woman all his life, he had never met her and he doubted he ever would. Judging from their lack of reactions to each refusal, his parents never expected her to accept but still asked. He knew his dad must feel bad for her – her husband had been killed in the second war and her son had died under mysterious circumstances. The official report had ruled it a suicide but Draco had never believed that. The few times Scorpius could recall the topic being discussed in front of him, his dad's response had always been the same: ”They expect me to believe that a wizard who weighing over 20 stone hanged himself with a sock? And while supposedly under watch in a holding cell?”
His family weren't the only ones who doubted the official version of events. As noted in one of the unauthorized biographies of Harry Potter; Goyle's death led to a shake-up in the Auror department that ended with Potter becoming the youngest Head Auror in over a century.
“Did she say if she's visiting her sister?” Draco asked after Asteria called him into the room to tell him the news.
“No,” she handed the letter over to him. “Do you want to try visiting her?”
“You know she'll just say she's busy.” Asteria nodded in assent and Draco huffed, throwing up his hands. “Yeah, why not? Maybe one of these days she'll surprise us.”
The pair fell silent, his mum tapping her open palm with the scroll while his dad frowned into the lit fireplace.
“How's the decorating coming?” Asteria asked. “Are the fairy lights up yet?”
“They're up, yeah, but I'm about to hex them to pieces.” Before she could ask, he continued, “They won't listen and stay lit. One goes out, they all go out.”
“Whatever you do, don't yell at them. If you scare them too much they'll just curl up into balls and stay that way for the rest of the night.”
“I haven't been yelling at them,” Draco grumbled.
“Of course you haven't," Asteria said smoothly, not believing a word of it. "Maybe Scorpius will help you.”
“Maybe.” He glanced over at Scorpius, one side of his mouth twisted up into a grin. “Fancy learning the Imperius Curse today?”
Scorpius laughed, though he knew there was a kernel of truth there. While he may not learn it today, if his dad got annoyed enough he might see it in action. He agreed to help, keeping the book with him, knowing it would come in handy if tonight's party was as dull as he expected it to be.
“Please don't use dark curses on the decorations!” Asteria called as they left the library. It was probably a good thing that his mum was too far away to hear Draco say under his breath, “Imperio doesn't really count.”
Grandmère Hélène was a tall, elegant woman known for her good looks and charming personality. At the moment, however, she was displaying none of her renowned charm and her looks were marred by her making a face reminiscent of someone who had swallowed a very bitter pill. The object of her distaste was the Christmas tree in the corner, a concession to her husband's upbringing that Asteria happily made every year.
“I can't believe he made her put that up in her home,” she said, not noticing Scorpius had slipped away from the girls to wander around the party. “There's no need for it. Scorpius is too old and the baby hasn't arrived.”
“I'm sure Scorpius likes the presents, Mother,” was Auntie Kallisto's reply. The eldest of the Greengrass girls, she tended to agree with her mother on most things – including their shared distaste for Draco and his parents. She was never as bold as Grandmère in her opinions but Scorpius knew how she felt. Draco's decision not to convert and to continue celebrating Christmas and Easter were the only things Kallisto and Daphne wouldn't begrudge him.
His grandmère wasn't so open-minded. Sniffing, she glared at the tree as if it had personally offended her. “There's no need for it. And don't make any excuses for him. I was devout, I went to Mass every Sunday, I even wanted to be a nun as a young girl! But I still converted because I loved your father and knew what his religion meant to him. I was willing to make that sacrifice.”
Kallisto and Daphne, looking almost identical from this angle with their honey blonde hair done up and both wearing satin dresses in near-matching shades of blue, exchanged a look. Apparently in that shared look they had decided it was Daphne's turn to make a half-hearted defense of their brother-in-law. “I don't see what the problem is. Tree or no tree, Scorpius and the new baby are still the only ones being raised Jewish.”
“I don't know why your sister couldn't stay with Anthony Goldstein, he was so much better for her,” his grandmère continued bitterly, seemingly not hearing what Daphne had said. “Instead he married that silly Lilac woman--”
“Lavender,” Daphne corrected.
“And your sister...” her voice trailed off, Hélène pursing her lips as if the truth was too awful to be said aloud. Waving her hand, his grandmère stood abruptly, announcing, “I need a stiff drink.”
Scorpius moved on, passing by his cousins, still in their clump talking about singer and perennial Witch Weekly favorite, Paris Hobday. Normally he could count on Fiona to keep him company during these get-togethers but she seemed to have fallen under the sway of the crooning wizard as well.
Nearby was Fiona and Mairi's father, Ernie Macmillan. It was odd not seeing him talking to any of the Greengrasses or Scorpius other uncle, Roger Davies, like he usually did at these parties. Instead he was deep in conversation with Mafalda Prewett's husband, Dennis Creevey, and the couple sitting on the couch; Padma Patil and her husband Minh Nguyen. The Nguyens had worked at St. Mungo's the same time as Asteria and she had eventually become close friends with both.
After eavesdropping on their conversation for a few minutes, Scorpius realized his uncle had some shared history with both Mrs. Nguyen and Mr. Creevey.
“I hope you remembered those time we spiked the Carrows' drinks at dinner so they'd pass out and wouldn't be able to oversee detentions.” Smiling at her husband, Mrs. Nguyen added, “I brewed the sleeping potion.”
“How about the time we helped those Muggleborns escape the castle by using the Aging Potion the Weasley twins gave us?” Mr. Creevey, laughing at the memory. “Poor Hannah and Lavender had chin whiskers for days after.”
“Don't worry,” his Uncle Ernie said coolly. “I've included all of it. My publisher says it might be the definitive book on that year.”
“You're writing a book?” Scorpius asked, causing all four adults to look over at him in surprise.
“I am indeed, chum.”
“About the war?”
“Er, yes.” Out of the corner of his eye, Scorpius could see Mr. Creevey glance nervously at Mrs. Nguyen.
“Can I read it when you're done?
“Of course you may!” his Uncle Ernie said quickly. “Though I think your mum has first dibs.”
“That's okay. I can wait.” After he said that, Scorpius realized his uncle probably wanted his mum to read the book first to make certain it was suitable for him. He vowed to try and get his hands on a copy as soon as he could.
In what he highly doubted was a coincidence, the conversation between the adults changed from their exploits at Hogwarts to who would make it to next year's World Cup. Scorpius soon became bored and walked off, careful not to make eye contact with Mei as he passed her by. She looked every bit as bored as he felt, swinging her legs as she sat and listened to her parents talk with his grandmother. His grandparents greatly enjoyed Blaise and Su's company and would often spend most of their time at any such gathering talking with them to the exclusion of most everyone else – save for Draco and Scorpius.
This time though it was just his grandmother and Scorpius assumed his grandfather was where he'd last seen him – in the billiards room playing pool with Draco.
He briefly considered going back there and watching the game but paused when he noticed his grandmère heading right in the direction of Asteria's two best mates from her Hogwarts' days – Mafalda Prewett-Creevey and Joy Dorny. Both former Slytherins, Mrs. Prewett-Creevey was a reporter for the Daily Prophet who swore like a dragon-tamer and Ms. Dorny was the current owner of the Hog's Head who smoked like chimney. After Draco and his parents, they were Hélène Greengrass' least favorite people in the world. On several occasions his grandmère had all but said that associating with those two had all but led Asteria down a path of cigarette-smoking, rule-breaking and Quidditch-playing which eventually culminated in marrying an ex-Death Eater.
Scorpius frowned, still uncomfortable with that part of his dad's past. Sometimes he nearly convinced himself it wasn't the same thing as those other Death Eater's he'd heard about: that his dad hadn't felt the same way they had and had only joined to protect his parents. It made sense to him but he knew it wasn't quite right.
Spotting Asteria coming to join her friends, his grandmère thought better of whatever she had intended to say to the two women and returned to her seat by her elder daughters.
Having almost completed his turn around the room, he passed by his grandpapa and Uncle Roger and stopped in his tracks when they mention Muggle computers. It turned out they were discussing Grandpapa Linus' Squib brother Philip. He had married a fellow Squib and to the family's disappointment, none of his children had been Magic.
“There's some university in the States that said to be very good for the subject, so Sofia may end up working there.”
Roger nodded thoughtfully at this. “I hear there's quite a few good Muggle schools across the pond, at least for the sciences.”
“My brother tells me the same thing. Which, to be frank, surprised me--”
“Ironic, isn't it?” Lucius drawled, walking over to where Linus and Roger stood by the fireplace. Evidently he had finished his billiard game. “How weak blood can persist, infecting generation after generation.”
Linus was white-faced with fury, his hand gripping the cup in his hand so tightly that Scorpius nearly expected it to shatter. Scorpius looked to his uncle for help but Roger had taken a keen interest in the painting over the mantelpiece.
Rather pleased with the effect he had, Lucius smiled and added in a soft voice, “I've always thought of it as a cancer - you can never really destroy it.”
Eyes darting between Lucius and his father-in-law, Roger gave an uneasy laugh. “Now, now. It's the holidays. Maybe--”
“Subtlety was never your strong suit, Lucius,” Linus interrupted. “Perhaps you should just come out and say what's on your mind.”
Before he could, Scorpius' mother joined them, a smile on her face that didn't match the hard look in her eyes. “Did I hear you mention Uncle Philip's girl? Isn't it exciting? I hear computer engineering is very important work.” Laying a light hand on Lucius' arm, she added, “Something Lucius knows a little about, isn't that right?”
Glancing at her hand with open disdain, he sneered, “I'm certain I don't.”
Asteria's smile sharpened into something almost feral. “Of course you do! Your cousin, Alphonse. He's an engineer too. He works with those muggles that go up into space. The astrobots.”
“Astronaut,” Scorpius corrected.
“That's it! Astronaut. Thank you, darling.” Her smile was warmer now as she gazed on the small group and her hands returned to rest on her belly. “Oh, but he doesn't go up into space.”
“ A-a cousin?” Uncle Roger sputtered, clearly unaware of what to say.
Asteria merely nodded. “Yes. A second cousin to be precise, son of Lucius' Aunt Aurelia – Abraxas' sister. Such a dear woman, passed away a few years ago sadly.”
“Pardon me,” Lucius said dully, excusing himself from the conversation. Noticing that Grandmère Hélène had seen the conversation between her husband and Lucius and was heading towards him, Scorpius knew he had to do something before all hell broke loose.
“Grandfather!” he said, hurrying after him. “Would you teach me how to play billiards?”
Lucius looked over at him in surprise. “Why didn't you ask earlier?”
Scorpius could only shrug in response.
“Very well.” The two left the parlor for the billiards room, his grandfather leading the way. “So you've never played before?”
“Not really.” He had tried once but couldn't figure out how to hold the cue properly or how to make the pockets appear on the table.
“We'll start with something simple then,” Lucius began before launching into an explanation. His grandfather handed him one of the cue sticks and pointed to the four balls on the table, telling him what each was. “What you need to remember is that like every Wizard's Chess set is different, so is every Wizard's Billiards table. Some have sets where the balls shout and hurl abuse at each other when they're hit, some have tables where small ridges appear on the surface to knock the ball off course. On this particular set, not only do the pockets appear and disappear but the cue ball will explode at random intervals and when that happens you lose a turn.”
Scorpius nodded, focusing on the table.
“Let's begin, shall we?” The two played in silence at first, Scorpius concentrating fully on the game in front of him. Each time he hit the cue ball into one of the object balls, he couldn't help but be pleased. Even if he hadn't managed to pocket a single one yet.
“Pay attention to where the pockets are before you take your stroke.”
“I'm trying,” he groused, narrowing his eyes as he lined up another shot. Unfortunately for Scorpius, as soon as hit the cue ball it vanished in a puff of smoke.
Lucius made a sympathetic noise. “Rotten luck.”
Disappointed, Scorpius stood back and let his grandfather have his turn.
“Your father tells me there's a Potter and Weasley in your year at Slytherin.”
Unsure of where this was headed, Scorpius nodded. “Al and Rose. They're my friends.”
“Are they?” Lucius glanced up from the table. “Well, I'm glad to hear it.”
“Really?”
“Of course. I know your father isn't pleased about it but he needs to let old grudges die. Especially in this new world order.” His grandfather's face twisted into a sneer at the last words, his last object ball bouncing off the sides when the pocket Lucius had aimed it at disappeared.
“I thought you'd be unhappy I wasn't in Ravenclaw, like you wanted.”
“I'd never be unhappy about you being in Slytherin, even if it's no longer what it was,” his grandfather insisted, applying chalk to the cue stick tip. “Mixed blood is everywhere these days, it was only a matter of time before Slytherin was polluted as well.”
Scorpius took a deep breath and was very glad his grandfather's back was turned so he couldn't see him roll his eyes.
“The best place for you would be Durmstrang but your parents refused to listen to reason.” With that, Lucius hit his last ball into the center right pocket. He straightened up and fixed his grandson with a fond smile. “But no matter. You seem to be making the best of it at Hogwarts. I'm very proud of you, Scorpius.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, ducking his head slightly.
His grandfather clapped him on the shoulder before standing back to give him room at the table. “Your turn.”
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