The secret is out

It had been three long years since Astoria had died. She was buried in a corner of her favorite garden at Malfoy Manor. Draco tended to her grave herself: no house-elves, nor garden-elves allowed. This was his task and his alone. Since about a year, Scorpius attended Hogwarts and with both his parents gone as well, Malfoy Manor had become cold and empty. Draco only had house-elves for company whom he ruled with an iron grip. He had not forgotten Dolly's rebellion and the awful treachery the species appeared to be capable of.

The constant stream of letters from his loyal son were one source of solace for Draco. The boy had taken up a rivalry with young Albus Potter. The many ways in which his son was able to outsmart the Potter boy often made him cackle with delight. Draco had never lost his animosity towards Harry. The thought that he owed him his life was still unbearable at times yet he was begrudgingly grateful for it. However, since Astoria's passing, life no longer seemed so bright and adventurous.

Draco had become a healer. A good one, with potions as a specialty. He occasionally created his own potions and was making quite a name for himself. Witches and Wizards from far and wide sought his knowledge and expertise: the only ones who still showed him disrespect were those Muggle-loving families. The blood-traitors.

As he was cutting the grass that covered her grave and tended to the white lilies, an eagle owl brought a new letter from his son. Draco quickly opened it and was, once again, transported to Hogwarts. Not much had changed over the years, by the looks of it. As Draco read of his boy's adventures, he didn't realize that young Scorpius had been leaving out some significant details….

Miles away, Hermione was also reading an owl. Rose's second year had started remarkably well. Her first grades had only just come in and they were as expected: only Exceeds Expectations for her daughter with a few Outstandings thrown in as well. Clearly she had inherited her mother's intellect. As Hermione read on, she began to frown. Apparently Rose had a secret, she had a new boyfriend, one Hermione wouldn't like. They'd been writing letters to each other all summer long, under her very eyes.

Hermione sighed. She had hoped her daughter would not get distracted by things such as this and she was far too young for it as well. The divorce between her and Ron had hit Rose hard and she hadn't been as forthcoming to her mother as she had been in the past. Both Hermione and Ron had found new lovers, but whereas Ron was happily remarried, Hermione's new love-affair had stranded. She had found a nice apartment, close to her work at the Ministry, and was generally content, albeit a bit jealous of her former husband's new-found marriage bliss.

She read on, eager to know the name of this boyfriend that she wouldn't like, but Rose had been smart enough not to mention his name. He was a Slytherin but very sweet although he did have a bit of a sardonic sense of humour. Hermione sighed deeply again. A Slytherin? Why? Couldn't she just have found a nice Ravenclaw boy? Rose had been sorted there herself.

The real reason Rose had been writing was because he had invited her over for a weekend. Hogwart's policy had changed and besides the summer and Christmas holidays, the children were allowed a few weekends home here and there as well, scattered throughout the year. The boy had invited her over and she wanted to go. In fact, she not so much asked Hermione as demanded it. Hermione was briefly reminded of her own bossy behavior as a schoolgirl.

Of course, she wouldn't allow it. She first needed the name of the boy so she could contact his parents about this weekend. Rose was not going to a sleep-over with some unknown figure. She could end up anywhere!

"I can't believe you'd side with him," Albus grunted as he touched the nasty bruise Scorpius had giving him. "Look how evil he is!" They were walking towards their Divination class which Rose hated. It was all nonsense, as far as she was concerned. Her hidden Seer abilities had not yet awoken.

Rose tutted. "I've seen worse. He could do far better than that," she huffed. "You're just lucky you're my cousin. Otherwise who knows what might have happened?"

"Your mum know about him yet?" Albus asked, raising his eyebrows. "What about your dad? He can't be pleased about it."

"Better they learn about it in small bits," Rose said. "Don't you dare ruin it for me, Albus!"

"If you don't tell your mum in your next letter, I'm telling dad," he retorted. "You must be mad dating such a … a bastard."

"Just because our parents hate each other, doesn't mean we have to!" Rose replied. "Besides my mum and dad hate each other too and they're supposedly the good guys!"

"They are," Albus mumbled. "You're still angry at them. Probably only dating him just to irk your mum and dad."

"Just because you're so childish…" Rose shot back.

Despite Albus' threats Rose couldn't make herself write the words. And so it happened that Harry was the first one to hear about their friendship. He was lying on his sofa, drinking a butterbeer with one hand, the owl in his other. His eyes grew big as he spilled half his drink all over himself.

"This can't be right…" he muttered under his breath. "Ron's not going to accept this."

"What's the matter?" Ginny asked, irritated by the mess.

"According to Albus, Rose and… Rose has befriended," Harry decided not to use Albus' phrase of 'hook-up', "Malfoy, Scorpius. He says she's just acting out because of the divorce."

"Malfoy?" Ginny asked, nearly dropping her beer as well, "our Rose and him?"

"Seems to be the case," Harry frowned. "What should I do? Inform Ron and Hermione or just wait till it blows over?"

"Best not tell them, you know what Ron's like," Ginny said. "It's probably nothing. Perhaps he made it up." Her husband nodded. He wouldn't put it past him.

Albus had never liked Rose much, nor the other way around. And Albus and Scorpius weren't exactly friends either. This could easily be their son's way of getting back at the both of them. After all, Albus had been sorted into Slytherin himself.

A few weeks later, Albus had been bold enough to tell on Rose to his aunt Hermione. Hermione had a long and rotten day at work and the letter really was the last straw. She screamed at Crookshanks in frustration. "Malfoy? Rose and a child of that repugnant, repellent… horrible, awful," she ran out of breath thinking of swear words.

I'm sorry to be the one to tell you aunt, but I really thought you should know. The letter said. Rose had promised me to tell you but I wasn't sure if she really had and as the weekend is coming closer and closer…

The weekend was coming closer. Hermione would rather die than have her daughter stay at Malfoy Manor! The very place where she had been tortured!

After a few deep breaths, she called on her daughter. A private fireplace had been installed for emergency calls at every House and Hermione thought this counted as an emergency, all right!

"Mum? What's the matter?" A sleepy Rose put her head into the fireplace. "Has something happened to dad? Or you? The prefect called me to come urgently."

"I've got a letter here in my hand," Hermione began, furiously, "informing me about you and your mysterious boyfriend! Malfoy! Bloody Scorpius Malfoy!"

"Mum!" Rose said horrified. Hermione usually didn't swear, that was Ron's territory. "Who told you?" she asked in a small voice.

"No matter. I know now, that's what's important. I won't have you visiting him and that's final. You can tell Scorpius in the morning. "

"That's not fair!" Rose shouted. "You're always saying we should befriend all houses! So I have!"

"Not him! Never him!" Hermione yelled back. "You are so lucky, young lady, that I haven't told your father yet!"

Rose angrily left the fireplace before Hermione had finished her rant.

The following day, Draco had a similar, though much less heated, conversation with his son. The Slytherins used their fireplace for all sorts of private conversations. If you paid off enough of your fellow students, it was possible to use it for minutes at a time. And Scorpius was never sort of Galleons, nor friends willing to give him some time.

"You'll have to understand Scorpius," he said soothingly. "These people will never trust us, you or me. That's just the way they are wired."

"But it isn't fair," Scorpius complained, echoing Rose, "I'm not you or grandpa." He had been really looking forward to showing Rose around their great manor.

Draco wasn't offended. "I know that," he replied, "but they don't. Nor would they be open to reason." Or ever have been, he thought privately.

"Will you try though? Ask them for me?" Scorpius pleaded, and Draco besmitten with his only son as he was, reluctantly agreed. It would not be an easy task.