Muchos love to JK who owns EVERYTHING!

Also my unending devotion to my House-mate Madeline, who so patiently proof read for me... Love you Maddels!


Scorpius sighed as he threw the last of his cake at Barry.

His father never gave a name to the old white peacock, but Scorpius felt Barry suited him well. His father really hated the bird, an enmity Scorpius never really understood, as Mr Malfoy had never tried to get rid of it. It wasn't like the old thing was ill tempered, it liked Scorpius well enough. He had been around since before Scorpius had been born and was the only friend he had around the mansion.

It wasn't as if Scorpius was an unpopular boy, mind. No, quite the opposite in fact.

Scorpius had many friends despite his rough start at Hogwarts. A 4th year boy called Alecto Flint had singled him out for being too friendly with the Gryffindor's. Rose and Albus, the only friends he seemed to have in the school, kept telling him to just ignore Flint but it was too much for Scorpius. One day in the Slytherin common room Flint cornered him and tried to lock him in a crate with a particularly quiet second year boy. Whereas Higgs just got in the crate, Scorpius fought like something possessed. He managed to bite Flints hand, drawing blood, and snatched his wand. Remembering a spell James had taught him, Scorpius cast "the best Bat-Boggie Hex I have ever seen" according to Puecy, a 5th year.

From that point forward Scorpius was taken under the wing of the older boys, who managed to badger Professor McGonagall into letting him join the duelling society. "Oh fine then!" she said, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm retiring this year anyway, its not like its going to bother me for much longer!" According to James this meant he could now admit that they were friends.

Not that being friends ever stopped James from being the only person who could beat Scorpius in the duel league tables.

"Just like your fathers, you two." Professor Longbottom would muttered while shaking his head. "They were constantly duelling. At least you're not trying to kill each other outside of the classroom also."

If Scorpius' new found popularity was a strange feeling, it was nothing compared to the shock that he got at the end of his first year.

On the train Scorpius had been sat with Higgs, the Potters and the Weasleys (something he would never tell his father). Puecy had grabbed him on the platform to chat about meeting up in Diagon Ally over the summer to meet a famous dueller while Higgs just walked off in his own little world as usual. Scorpius noticed he was walking right towards Draco Malfoy, who was talking quite amicably to a man who looked so similar to Higgs, that he had to be his father. Scorpius paid little attention to their conversation, too excited about going to meet Victor Krum, but a few snatches reached his ears, and eventually he heard something that pulled his attention away from Puecy's dramatic re-enactment of Krum's best duels.

"...bit him! Right on the hand... really saved Harpo's neck... Flint always was a nasty..."

Puecy clapped a hand on Scorpius' shoulder, pulling his attention back. Puecy passed his address over and ran off cheerfully while Scorpius turned and walked over to his father. His face was quite blank, although there were spots of pink high on his usually pale cheekbones.

"Let me get this straight, Terence. Marcus Flint's boy has been singling out my son for no apparent reason. My son had to then resort to Muggle fighting to protect himself and no one has seen fit to tell me about it?"

Mr Higgs suddenly looked very worried. "Now Draco you listen here! Boys will be boys, you used to be just as bad with Potter if I remember correc ... Draco where are you going!?"

Mr Malfoy walked very calmly away just as Scorpius' mother wandered over with his trolley of belongings. "Hello Darling! Where's your father off... Oh!"

Scorpius looked around in time to see Mr Malfoy swing a fist at Flint's very very large father. Flint hit the ground. Hard. Mr Malfoy loomed over the groaning prone form.

"If your son ever so much as looks at my boy again, you and I are going to have a very unpleasant conversation, Flint. A Bat-Boggie Hex will be the last of your problems. Am I understood?"

Flint blinked stupidly at Mr Malfoy, his mouth hanging open. His eyes seemed a little unfocused when he nodded compliantly.

And with that he walked back over to his son, took the trolley off his wife, nodded good-bye to a shocked Higgs family (well, Mr Higgs looked shocked. Harpo seemed to have found a beetle on the floor) and walked calmly out of Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Scorpius smiled at the memory, as he smoothed some of Barry's feathers.

His father was a very quiet man. His mother said that Draco had never really recovered from the horror's his family went though during the second war. Even in the height of summer he wore a thick bandage on his arm. There Scorpius knew lay the pale scars left from the Dark Mark his father received when he was no more than 16. To see him do something like that, to show such a fierce protectiveness for his son, when before the affection went unsaid, was all the confirmation Scorpius needed to know how much his father loved him.

Which made what he was about to do squirm in his gut just a bit more.

Scorpius rummaged inside his coat and pulled out the scrap of parchment from his inside pocket. He gazed at the flowing script, spelling out those three simple words, he draw his strength from them. Then he replace it in it's pocket, right over his heart, stood up and made his way through the gardens back to the house, apprehension trickling down the back of his neck.


Hugo snuggled a bit closer to the duvet surrounding him. His parents were out with his Aunt and Uncle, and Teddy was baby-sitting.

Of course, by baby-sitting, Hugo meant running round the house franticly after his irritating older cousin.

"Put that down you little..." Teddy then ran into table. "Bloody hell!" he snarled before hopping around the table after James, who was reading aloud a letter in an irritatingly shrill French accent.

"'Oh, mon bel amour! How I cannot bare to be apart from you!' Haha! Oh Ted you lucky boy!"

James artfully dodged a pillow chucked from across the table. Teddy's face was slowly getting redder and redder, with his hair quickly following suit. As Teddy launched himself across the table, James sprinted in front of the fireplace just as a burst of green flames flared up from inside the grate.

Several thumps and a muffled groan later, Hugo looked up to see a mess of limbs and red hair sprawled in front of the fireplace. His uncle George swore under his breath as he untangled himself from James and pulled himself to his feet.

"You need to watch where you're running, nepheypoos." Muttered George as he helped James to his feet.

Teddy scowled at James, who was mouthing "nepheypoos" in disgust. "George, can you please explain to James that it is illegal to read another person's mail!"

George looked at James in confusion and spotted the slightly crumpled letter, still clutched to James' chest. George frowned at his nephew.

"Give me that." He snapped.

George snatched the letter from James, who was glaring at the floor in a mixture of petulance, anger and shame. George gave James a long hard look. "And what, dear nephew, gave you the impression that you had the right to open Teddy's mail?"

James looked up, indignant, and spluttered "But I didn't open it, George! Ted just left it lying there on the table! It wasn't even in its envelope!"

George's stern expression broke, giving way to an enormous grin. "Oh well that's perfectly legal!"

George turned to Ted, cleared his throat, and started to read the letter. "Ooohh! Mon bel amooour!"

Teddy swore and threw himself across the table at George.

Hugo marked his page, closed his book and sighed. As irritating as it was, he had to admit that George's rendition of the letter was an impressively accurate impersonation of Victoire, and he seemed to be a lot better at dodging the missiles that Teddy was throwing across the room than James was. Gathering his quilt around him, Hugo tucked his book under his arm and went off in search of somewhere quiet, before something was spilled on him.

He could still hear James' whoops of laughter, Teddy's colourful language and George's shrill French accent after two flights of stairs, so he settled for the drawing room.

It wasn't really a drawing room in the traditional sense of the word. His Uncle Harry had turned it into a library when he first moved in after finishing at Hogwarts. Every wall was covered in bookcases, covering up the old black family tapestry that once hung there. Kreacher liked to tell them that "good Master Harry" was protecting the tapestry, but Hugo knew it was just because Harry hated it.

Inside the drawing room Hugo found his sister and Albus. Rose was sat on one of the sofas, her legs drawn close to her body, her arms hugging her knees. Albus was standing in front of the bookcase, a pile of books at his feet and another in his hands. Hugo grinned to himself.

His cousin was too smart for his own good. He would often pick up a book to see what it was about, and quickly become so engrossed with it he lost all sense of his surroundings. The thing was though, that most of the books in Uncle Harry's library were the ones his mother didn't have room for in their house any more. All the decent books, the fiction novels, had been carefully smuggled out from every bookcase in the house and were stacked in Lily's room, which was where Hugo spent most of his Holidays in Grimmauld place. No, the books Albus got sucked into had titles like "Property Law, The Everyday Guide for the Budding Ministry Lawyer" and "the Great Goblin War of 652AD, What Really Happened".

In fact the only real reason Hugo was in here at all was because he knew Lily would be listening to "Mad Music, the Gossip" on the radio. At least in here it would be quiet.

Pulling his duvet around him tight, Hugo jumped into the air and flopped onto the sofa opposite his sister.

"Kreacher wishes young mister Weasley would not abuse the furniture so." Croaked Kreacher as he shuffled into the room behind Albus, a tea tray floating behind his head.

Hugo grinned at the old house elf. "Sorry Mr Kreacher."

"Mr Kreacher indeed." He muttered scornfully, though it was rather ruined by the smile on his face. "But Kreacher must admit it was wise of young mister Weasley to escape the kitchen when he did. The young Master has provoked the Lupin boy into destroying the furniture. Mistress Ginevra will not be pleased."

Kreacher sighed as he snapped his fingers, causing the tea tray to lower onto the table. Kreacher started to unload the china, his shaking hands making the cups rattle on their saucers.

The noise seemed to snap Rose out of her trance, and she leaned forward to take the china out of Kreacher's hands. "I'll do that Kreacher. Why don't you go have a sit down somewhere quiet before Uncle Harry and Aunty Ginny get back."

Kreacher bowed low to Rose, a small smile on his face. "Thank you, Miss Rose, for the kindness, but Kreacher shall go keep watch in the Kitchen. Young mister Lupin looked as if he might start on the Black Family china soon."

Kreacher shuffled out of the room again, pausing only to bow in Albus' direction and say "Young Master Albus." before disappearing out the door.

Hugo eyed the tea pot for a while, watching the steam thread its way out of the spout, before tucking his feet underneath the duvet, deciding it was all together too cold to venture out from his nest. He sat watching his sister for a while. She had gone back to hugging her knees, holding a cup of hot tea close to her for warmth.
"Soooo..." Hugo drawled. "When you telling Dad?"

Rose looked up at him, her face drawn with terrible sorrow. "Tonight." she whispered.

Hugo sighed "Merlin's pants, Rosie. You'd think you were telling him you had Spattergroit, not a boyfriend."

Rose scowled at her brother "You know its not that simple, Hugo. Dad hates purebloods..."

"Which is stupid," interrupted Hugo "seeing as he is one. I mean I know Mum's a Muggle-born but that doesn't mean he expects us to only marry half bloods or less. And besides, I would be more worried about James' reaction. Pinch is his best mate..."

"Hugo..." Rose sighed "you know Dad is going to freak. He's just like that. I mean he was funny for weeks after Albus was sorted into Slytherin..."

With a resounding crack, Kreacher Apparated into the room with a pile of plates in his arms, muttering darkly under his breath in his bullfrog croak. Albus jumped at the sound, dropped his book, looked around and then jumped again when he found he was not alone in the room.

"Kreacher, do you think it would be a bad thing if Rose was snogging Scorpius Malfoy?"

"Hugo!" exclaimed Rose indignantly.

Kreacher carefully placed the china on the table before fixing Hugo with a hard stare over his snout like nose. "Kreacher thinks young mister Weasley owes his sister an apology for divulging information she clearly did not wish to be known, and doing so in a unbecoming fashion. Kreacher thinks this was most unfair of young mister Weasley, not like a young gentleman at all."

Hugo wriggled in his seat until he was a little more upright, then frowned at his sister apologetically. "Sorry Rosie."

Kreacher nodded approvingly, his wrinkly face losing some of its sternness. "And to answer young mister Weasley's question, Kreacher thinks it would be a wonderful thing for the house of Weasley and the house of Malfoy to be joined. But only if young miss Rose wishes it."

Rose smiled sadly at the old house elf. "Its not as simple as that, Kreacher."

Kreacher bowed deeply, his forehead brushing the floor, and the old locket he wore slipped from under his toga tea towel. "Then perhaps Kreacher is mistaken. Poor old Kreacher knows little of the hearts of young witches and wizards. May Kreacher beg you're opinion on the matter, Master Albus?"

Albus looked up from the tea he had been pouring. "Hmm? Oh about Scorpius and Rose? Oh I think Scorpius is great, real good guy. Rose is lucky to have him."

"Then Kreacher must agree! Young mister Malfoy is a fine choice for one such as miss Rose."

And he bowed again to both Albus and Rose.

Kreacher stood up as tall as his stooped frame would allow. "Master Albus, is Kreacher allowed to leave the Black Family china in the room with yourself, so to avoid the brute Lupin from destroying it all?"

Albus smiled warmly. "Don't worry Kreacher, we'll keep it safe. And can you give us a shout when Mum and Dad get home, please?"

After assuring he would do as ordered, Kreacher performed one last sweeping bow before Disapparating with another loud crack, leaving Hugo to wonder how Kreacher didn't constantly get carpet burns on his forehead.

Rose pulled her knees up to her chest again, making it clear she no longer wanted to discuss the matter.

Hugo then made the fatal mistake of asking Albus what he had been reading about. Albus was so intent on his recollection of the inner workings of the International Confederation of Wizards, that he didn't notice when Hugo pulled out his book from under his duvet and lost himself in the adventures of Barnabas, the dragon hunting squib.

About fifteen minutes later Kreacher appeared to tell them that their parents were home. Hugo, suddenly realising what was about to happen, wrestled himself out of his duvet and sprinted down both flights of stairs with a wild grin on his face. Squeezing past his father and Uncle, who were still taking off their coats, and edging into the kitchen, Hugo found he was not to be disappointed.

What was left of the huge heavy table, where they ate most of their meals, had been pushed into two separate barricades at either end of the room. In the no-mans-land in-between were the burning remains of several of the dinning chairs, and most of the old dresser. The rest lay splintered around the room, mingled with a lot of broken glass and crockery. Scorch marks scored the walls and floors, marking the passage of the fierce battle that had been brutally waged only moments before. Standing in front of the carnage were the soaking wet, debris coated and slightly charred around the edge forms of James, Ted and Uncle George.

Aunt Ginny was not amused.

"... left in charge for a few hours and you turn my house into a war zone! Who do you expect will be tidying this mess up!? Hmm? Because it certainly won't be Kreacher, its not fair at his age! And George, for heavens sake! You are a grown man. You're Albus' Godfather! What kind of an example is this!"

George shuffled his feet a little. "In my defence.."

"YOU SHOULD NOT NEED TO HAVE A DEFENCE! YOU ARE THE ADULT HERE! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO STOP THINGS LIKE THIS FROM HAPPENING. AND NOT... JOIN... IN!"

Teddy smirked at this, which of course brought the full wrath of Aunt Ginny down upon him. "AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON YOU THEODORE LUPIN!"

Hugo turned to grin at his father and Uncle, who were both seemed in pain from holding in so much laughter.

After Ginny was finished screaming, the three culprits set their wands to repairing the kitchen. It always outstanded Albus that his brother could be so fantastic at magic and yet still have only achieved one O in his OWLs. Wood flew around the room joining and merging together, the kitchen's furniture forming in mid-air. A mop was racing up and down the walls, removing the scorch marks and also managing to fill the jagged holes that only a seconds ago littered the walls A few dazzling moments late, and the room was back to normal. George then turned to Teddy, bowed at the waist and muttered with a clear smirk on his face "Je suis désolé."

Teddy inclined his head to the side and said clearly "Apology accepted."

But the moment Ginny's back was turned, Teddy proceeded to punch George, very hard, on the shoulder.

Gradually the whole family drifted into the room. Lily went straight to sit between James and Teddy to hear the whole story from the two of them, who were suddenly the best of friends again. Albus slipped in, glided over to George and gave him a big hug. Uncle Harry called clearly "Kreacher?" and with a loud crack the old house elf appeared in the kitchen with the large stack of the posh china, shuffling hurriedly across the room to put it away. "Yes, Master Harry?"
"How about we lay up now, while we wait for the stew to heat up?"

Hugo watched as Kreacher looked across to the doorway, where Rose was standing in the shadows. Rose froze, for only a second, then slowly nodded.

Bowing low, Kreacher said loudly "If it pleases Master, Kreacher would wait before laying the table. Kreacher believes that young miss Rose wishes to address those present."

Harry looked across at Rose, shrugged and sat down. Slowly Rose made her way to the unoccupied end of the table and sat so she was facing everyone. Albus got to his feet and moved round the table so he was standing behind his cousin, a reassuring hand on her shoulder. After a moments hesitation, Hugo also got to his feet to go add his support. Rose looked up at them, her gratitude written across her face.

Suddenly the room went very quiet.

Harry, Ginny, Ted, George and his parents took one glance at the grave expressions on the teenagers face's, and looked at each other, very very worried.

Rose took a deep breath.

"Everyone, there is something I need to tell you."