Title: Grand
Disclaimer: I make no money off this story; this is purely for my own enjoyment. The Harry Potter series belongs to J. K. Rowling, not me, a Random Person on the Internet.
Pairings: Background Draco/Harry that brought about this situation in the first place, but sadly it's not the main focus. I mean, I suppose I could have had them make out in the background, but even I know better than to force it, no matter how tempting.
If the idea of Draco and Harry getting together in the first place makes you retch, though, please close the tab. Don't send me a review about it; I really don't care about your opinion on the pairing. Thank you.
Rating: K
Warnings: None, except my message in the italics above. Otherwise, it's a pretty tame story.
Summary: In which Lucius babysits not only his treasured Scorpius, but also the spawn that came with Draco's inexplicable union with Potter, of all people. Fatherhood had been rough on him, but perhaps there is some hope to be had in grandfatherhood.
Word Count: 2852
Author's Note: This was written for Round 1 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season 2.
The prompt for this round is to write about a grandparent, and I chose Lucius because the Malfoy family has always had a place in my heart. I have this elaborate head canon about how Lucius and Scorpius would interact, especially in the context of Lucius's troubled relationship with Draco, and I was really excited to get the opportunity to portray that here.
I also added in the Potter children for the sake of my own self-indulgence, because I like to think of them being connected to Scorpius in some way. They're recent step-siblings in this story, so they're not tight, but I get the feeling that they'll get closer over time. :)
Grand
Lucius narrowed his eyes at the head in the fireplace.
"Absolutely not," he said frostily.
Draco's shoulders heaved, and Lucius chose to glare at them instead of looking at the face that increasingly resembled Narcissa as time progressed.
Said wife was currently exploring Belgium (though Merlin knew what there was to explore there), and he had been looking forward to a holiday from her subtle machinations. He loved her, yes, had loved her for decades, but sometimes he wanted a chance to miss her, and he knew she felt the same way.
Alas, he had made the mistake of procreating. It really was one thing after another.
"Father," said Draco with that patient, condescending mien that grated on Lucius's nerves. (He almost missed Draco's submissive, whinier phase. Almost.) "You are well aware of the import this gala holds for Harry and me. Our careers depend on our ability to network and make lasting connections; our attendance is vital."
Lucius cut him off. "I am not an ignoramus, my son; you do not have to emphasise something so self-evident. I just do not see why I have to be the one to babysit your progeny."
"Did you not once deplore the fact that you do not see Scorpius often enough, Father? Those were your words."
"Scorpius, yes. I would be more than happy to see him. I did not, however, consent to watching over the Potter spawn, too. Do they not have an entire Weasley swarm ready to take them in at a moment's notice?"
Draco sighed, and Lucius hid his grimace. He really had his mother's mannerisms down pat. Lucius would never understand why people thought Draco was a perfect replica of his father—they really only had superficial traits in common, such as their facial structures. The rest was all Narcissa.
"Ginevra has a Quidditch match. The rest are occupied for various tedious reasons which I do not care to recount, not even for the sake of this argument."
"I suggest you start caring. The least you can do is defend your case. What kind of solicitor ignores all the details?"
Draco's shoulders twitched, and Lucius smiled grimly. He was prepared to drag this argument out as long as it took until he won.
He pushed on before Draco could say another word. "Indeed, the children are in their early teens now. Could they not just simply take care of themselves? Just supply them with food and they should be able to manage for an evening."
"Are you jesting, Father? You never permitted me to be alone for one moment! There was always a House Elf watching me like a hawk! Also, as well-behaved as we both know Scorpius can be, do you honestly trust Harry's children to not Incendio our house?"
Lucius frowned. It was a valid point. He did not trust Scorpius alone with any of Potter's children.
Before either Lucius or Draco could speak any further, though, a voice chimed in from behind Draco.
"Papa. This banality has gone on long enough. I wish to speak to Grandpapa myself."
Draco turned around and hissed. "Scorpius, let me handle this—"
"Grandpapa is a very busy man and probably has no desire to listen to you drone on and on. Let. Me. Speak. To. Him."
"You impudent little brat, how dare you—"
"The child has a point, Draco," said Lucius, smirking. "I really am a busy man. Let the boy seek an audience with me."
Draco huffed and pulled his head out of the fire without another word. A moment later, Scorpius took his place.
"Greetings, Grandpapa."
Lucius found himself smiling warmly at the boy. Now there was someone who actually took after him. Even at the age of thirteen, Scorpius already looked so dignified. The way he said "Grandpapa," with an emphasis on the first syllable, really did make him feel grand.
"Scorpius, my child. How are your studies progressing?"
"They are going well, sir, though I do wish for some of your guidance, especially with potions-making. Papa is being self-centred again, refusing to help me."
Lucius smiled wider, especially as he heard Draco's indignant squawk in the background. He knew Scorpius was only insulting his father as a means of manipulating his grandfather, but Lucius didn't mind at all—he was willing to be manipulated when it came to his grandchild.
"So you wish to spend a Saturday evening with me, just for the sake of studying potions? How studious of you, my child. Would it not, however, be too distracting if your…step-siblings…tagged along?"
Scorpius shrugged casually. "They will behave if they know what's good for them. You know their Uncle Ronald has already made them fear you with his exaggerated tales."
Lucius nodded, even as he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to lose this battle. He did miss Scorpius terribly. "Can I trust you to inform them of the rules of the Manor?"
"Yes, Grandpapa. You have my word as a wizard and as a Malfoy."
Lucius closed his eyes as the promise's magic settled in, leaving a tingle in his chest. Promises between a grandfather and his grandson were not to be taken lightly, especially not in their family, and Scorpius knew that.
"I shall see you at the Manor at four-o'-clock in the afternoon, then, Scorpius."
Scorpius smiled. "We shall bring dinner, then. I would like a picnic under the stars, Grandpapa."
"You shall have it. Farewell."
"Until next time."
As Lucius closed the Floo connection, he turned to look at his study, at the current disarray of his reading materials. He had a lot of work to do to make the Manor habitable for four Hogwarts-aged children.
Lucius opened the door calmly, coming face to face with his troublesome son. Draco tried to stare back just as calmly, but Lucius could detect a slight twitch of nervousness.
Lucius hid a sneer. As if he would renege on his promise now. His son was much too neurotic for his own good.
He turned to his son's ill-chosen partner, Harry Potter. The less said on that choice the better. Lucius had raised no objection at the bonding ceremony (it had been too late by then), but that did not mean he had to like him.
Potter met his gaze and tilted his chin defiantly at him, and Lucius nearly rolled his eyes. Being Head Auror only worsened his ego, unfortunately.
Scorpius stepped forward, squeezing his way in between his father and stepfather, brandishing a wicker basket.
"Grandpapa! Harry did all the preservation charms for us, so the food is ready whenever you are. May we please enter now? I do so look forward to catching up with you."
Lucius gave Potter a curt nod to indicate his thanks before turning back to Scorpius with a gentle smile. "Yes, you may enter, my child, along with your siblings."
Scorpius beamed and moved past Lucius, pausing a few steps in to turn around and wave the other children towards him.
They slowly emerged from behind Draco and Potter, giving Lucius wary greetings before slowly entering the Manor. Lucius nodded politely at them, feeling no particular desire to speak to them.
When they had all entered, Lucius turned back to his son and son-in-law, taking in their appearances for the first time. As much as he was loath to admit it, Potter did clean up very well under Draco's guidance. Their simple black robes were of a finely measured cut that enhanced their statures, and the two of them exuded power with nothing more than the lines of their shoulders.
"Have a pleasant evening," intoned Lucius politely.
"Thank you, Father. We shall retrieve the children at midnight."
Potter nodded in stiff agreement next to Draco.
Lucius quietly stepped back and closed the door.
When he entered the Manor, he found the Potter children sitting stiffly on a couch in the living room, while Scorpius reclined peacefully in his favourite armchair.
Lucius stared at them for long moments.
The eldest child looked a lot like his namesake, and Lucius disliked him already. He knew a troublemaker when he saw one—it was clear in the way his fingers twitched, as if longing to grab something and Transfigure it beyond recognition.
The middle child looked almost exactly like his father, but he didn't have his defiant air. Instead, he stared at the floor, as if there were words to be read and interpreted on the carpet. Lucius felt he would probably behave once he introduced him to the extensive library upstairs.
The youngest child looked like her mother (or, at least, what Lucius cared to remember of her), but her eyes sparkled with badly-disguised mischief. She kept darting her eyes towards her eldest brother, hoping to catch his gaze, but her other brother held her hand and squeezed it, probably warning her to behave.
Lucius had absolutely no idea what to do with them. He turned to Scorpius, hoping he would have plans already. It was still too early for the promised picnic.
"Grandpapa," he began, once Lucius caught his eyes. "How about I give them a tour of the Manor while you get some rest? You look tired."
Lucius scrutinised his face, looking for ulterior motives, but he saw nothing but innocence in those wide grey eyes. Against his better judgment, he decided to trust him.
"Very well. I will be in the study if you need anything. You know the rules of conduct."
"Thank you, Grandpapa." He stood up. "Follow me, you lot. I want to show you the ballroom."
Lucius retired to his study and hoped for the best.
To be fair, Lucius managed to spend an entire hour in peace without any of the alarm wards going off. He managed to compose several important letters and read a short story in a recently acquired anthology without interruption.
He was on the verge of starting the next story when it finally happened—a resounding crash echoed from the room adjacent.
Lucius uttered an unprintable oath before closing his tome and rushing towards the disturbance.
He dramatically flung the door open, searching for signs of blood and mangled limbs, only to find three frightened pairs of eyes looking up at him over the shattered remains of a vase.
Scorpius leaned on the wall off to the side, staring calmly at Lucius.
Lucius frowned sternly at him, and Scorpius shrugged, conveying that he had in fact kept his promise about informing the Potters of the Manor rules—it wasn't his fault they decided not to heed his words.
They both knew, however, something the Potter children didn't—the vase was a priceless Muggle artefact, sure, but it could be fixed within seconds by a simple Reparo. It would have been more troublesome if the Potters had broken something magical, but the vase would survive.
Lucius turned to glare at them anyway. Children needed a healthy dose of fear on occasion. After all, not everything could be fixed with magic—there was no guarantee that their own Reparos would be as effective as Lucius's one day, or that the next thing they broke would be as easily repaired. He wanted them to remember this moment of fear for a long time.
He glared, and they trembled, occasionally turning to Scorpius in hopes of him coming to their defence. Scorpius shrugged faux-helplessly, playing along with Lucius's game.
Good boy. Lucius would reward him later.
The silence stretched on. Lucius idly wondered what would happen next. Perhaps one of them would burst into tears? Or maybe they would point fingers at each other? Had the culprit been young Draco, he would have started scapegoating by now.
Finally, the middle child stepped forward, his chin quivering but his eyes fixed on Lucius's face.
"I'm sorry, Mr Malfoy. We were trying to help Lily practice Wingardium Leviosa; it was a stupid idea, really. We should have known better, and you have every right to be angry with us."
Lucius stayed silent for a few more moments, relishing the fear that was probably coursing through their veins. He hadn't had the chance to be the scary adult figure since Draco; Scorpius was never afraid of him.
Finally, though, he waved his wand. The children flinched, but all that happened was that the vase repaired itself.
"Next time, children, I shall make you fix what you break with your bare hands. So do not do it again. Understood?"
They all mumbled their agreement, still petrified but also relieved.
He swept his gaze towards Scorpius, who still looked calm despite the tense situation that had just come to pass. For a moment, Lucius felt like he was staring at himself, and it was somewhat disconcerting.
He blinked once and turned back to the other children, choosing to reflect on that thought another time. For now, he needed to find a way to keep them out of trouble.
"Please follow me to the ballroom, everyone. If you really insist on practicing your spellwork, you might as well be supervised. After all, Miss Potter, your levitation charm clearly has room for improvement."
The youngest child grinned sheepishly at him, and for a moment she looked like her father during a bad press conference.
Lucius allowed her a slight smile before leading them to the ballroom to practice. At least she seemed repentant.
When night fell, Scorpius laid out a large mat in the backyard, and Lucius enlarged it. The Potter children sat on one side, and Scorpius sat on the other side with Lucius, with the food laid out in between them.
The Potters were surprised to see Lucius eat the beef sandwiches while sitting cross-legged, just like them, but he simply shrugged at their incredulous faces. He knew he looked dignified regardless; he could afford to play the role of plebeian on occasion.
Eventually, they relaxed, especially as the sky darkened, revealing the stars. Here, there was no artificial light save for a fire in a jar at the centre of their picnic mat, so the sky was thick with visible stars. The five of them gazed up at the sight, and Lucius could hear the youngest murmuring excitedly to her brothers.
He looked back down at them and thought about this new family unit. Since they were only going to be here for a few hours, he could not glean much information about them, especially since they were still a bit reserved around him, though they did participate enthusiastically during the quick Charms lesson he did with them, at least.
What he did observe was that at this point, they were still a bit distant from Scorpius, since they were probably adjusting to his new role as their step-brother. After all, just last year, he had simply been their schoolmate.
There was promise, however, in the way the eldest child had wrapped his cloak around Scorpius when he shivered a bit. (Lucius grimaced. Narcissa would disapprove of his failure to nag Scorpius to keep warm.) Scorpius then began to outline the constellations he recognised to the others as he leaned into his older step-brother, and the Potters looked genuinely interested in what he had to say about the stars. Lucius was proud that his early astronomy lessons had been retained, at least.
As they sat there, with Lucius watching over them, fireflies began to approach them. The youngest child exclaimed and tried to catch one with her bare hands, but of course she failed.
Lucius Scourgified one of the jars from the picnic and scooped up a firefly from the air, quickly covering the jar with his hand.
"James," he ordered calmly. "Please pass me one of the napkins."
The eldest child's eyes widened, but he quickly obeyed, grabbing the nearest fabric napkin.
Lucius brought the jar closer to him, and together they managed to cover the jar. He quickly cast a sticking charm.
"Here," he said, handing the jar over to the youngest.
"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," she breathed.
He gave them a small smile, and they continued to sit there for a while, illuminated by the stars and the fireflies.
Lucius greeted Draco and Potter at the doorway before letting them in.
"How was the gala?"
Draco shrugged. "It went as expected."
Lucius sighed inwardly. Had Narcissa been there, she would have demanded more details than that, but Lucius did not know where to start prying. He felt wrong-footed around Draco; they could not communicate silently like he and Scorpius could.
So he simply nodded and led Draco to the couches, where the children were sleeping.
"Did they behave, Mr Malfoy?" asked Potter. The defiance in his eyes had faded, probably softened by the sight of his children sleeping safe and sound.
Lucius was in a good enough mood to offer him the slightest smile. "They behaved very well, Mr Potter. And now I shall let you transport them home."
As Lucius turned to walk away, he felt Draco grab his shoulder.
"Thank you, Father," he whispered.
Lucius squeezed his hand gently.
Then he gently pushed his hand off and continued walking.