Exchange
A Fanfiction in honor of Project 9-6-1
Draco Malfoy let the parchment fall from his hand and land on the polished mahogany dining table. He arched a brow across the table at his son, Scorpius, and heaved a heavy sigh.
"Muggle Studies?"
Scorpius fought the urge to shift uncomfortably in his chair, and opted instead for what he hoped was a casual shrug. "Thought it sounded interesting."
Draco leaned back in his chair, sizing up his son. He shook his head. "I'm not sure what to say, Scorpius."
"What's there to say? I've already signed up for the class, Dad. I'm not dropping it."
Draco held his hands up in resignation. "I can't stop you. I only wish you'd chose something more useful. What sort of career do you expect to get by learning Muggle Studies?"
Scorpius shrugged again, but had no real response. He knew his father was pulling that "career" card in order to circumvent pulling the "race" card, but he said nothing. If he started an argument now, it was all over.
"We'll be going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to pick up your supplies," Draco continued when his son stayed silent. "Make sure you hang onto your booklist."
"Is that it?"
Draco gave his son a nod and watched Scorpius bolt from the table. He smiled at the empty chair, remembering all the times he and his father had sat down for "friendly" chats. Draco thought this had gone considerably better than all of those conversations, and he was still sitting in his chair staring at nothing when his wife walked through on her way to the kitchen.
"Are you all right, dear?" Astoria asked.
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Forgive me. Just thinking."
Astoria looked concerned for a brief moment, but brushed it aside, remembering why she'd come downstairs in the first place. "What should I instruct the elf to prepare for dinner?"
September 1st came around faster than Scorpius would have liked. Hogwarts was great, but there was always so much homework to do, and the Muggle electronics he had stashed away up in his bedroom wouldn't work there. Still, the prospect of getting to see his friends cheered him up a little.
"This is your year!" Draco said as he helped Scorpius drag his heavy school trunk toward the fireplace. "If you don't make the Quidditch team this year I'm going to have to have a talk with the Slytherin captain."
Scorpius flushed red. He had almost forgotten that he'd lied about trying out last year. "Don't, Dad. Trust me, Slytherin needs only the best players on the team if it's going to beat out Ravenclaw."
"And my son isn't the best?"
No, Dad. I'm not, Scorpius managed to catch himself before he said it out loud.
Draco pulled the crystal bowl full of Floo Powder off the mantle and held it out to his son. "A few more years and we won't have to do this anymore."
Scorpius felt a knot in his stomach every time he started thinking about taking his Apparition test. He swallowed hard and took a pinch of the powder.
"Your mum and I will follow right behind you," Draco said.
Scorpius nodded his head, took a deep breath, and said, "Leaky Cauldron!"
"Muggle taxis," Draco sneered. "Is there anything more disgusting?"
Astoria laid a hand gently on her husband's arm in an attempt to calm him down.
"We've only got twenty minutes left, Dad. Can you help me get a trolley?"
Draco patted his pockets, but he couldn't find the £1 note he needed for the trolley. After glancing around to see that no one was looking, he slid his wand partway out of its concealed holder in the sleeve of his jacket and tapped lightly on the machine. He tucked the wand back into his sleeve and took a trolley just as a Muggle woman with four young children came up to get a trolley.
"You're lucky, Draco," Astoria whispered as they helped Scorpius load his trunk onto the trolley. "If that woman had seen you . . ."
"Oh, Muggles never notice anything," Draco scoffed. He laid a hand on Scorpius's shoulder. "You'll find that out in your Muggle Studies class, no doubt."
The hand on his shoulder felt as though it were made of lead. Scorpius tried to casually shrug it off, but it held fast.
"There's Mrs. Deaton." Astoria pointed toward a woman with short cropped brown hair and square-framed glasses standing near platform 9. She kept fidgeting with the hem of her blue sweater and shifting we weight from one foot to the other. She looked up as the Malfoys approached.
"Hello, Mrs. Deaton," Scorpius smiled.
The nervous young woman smiled brightly when she recognized her son's best friend. "Hello, Scorpius. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy."
Scorpius glanced around. "Where's Dean?"
"Oh, he's just gone through with his father."
Scorpius looked at the barrier between the platforms that lead to Platform 9 ¾. In most circumstances, Muggles could get through if they were accompanied by a witch or wizard. He looked back at Mrs. Deaton and opened his mouth to tell her it was all right if she went through, but she cut him off.
"Hate those magical barrier things. Don't guess magical people feel them, but the rest of us? Leaves a tingly feeling in your skin that doesn't go away." She smiled. "Edward will be back in a moment. Are you still coming to stay a few days at Christmas?"
Mrs. Deaton cast a glance at Scorpius's parents as she spoke.
"I was planning to, if it's still okay," Scorpius said. He could almost feel his mother's lips pursing, and his father's hand on his shoulder tightened a little.
"You're always welcome at our house."
Edward Deaton stepped back through the barrier and gave his wife a peck on the cheek. "Dean's all settled in, hon," he said. He turned to Scorpius. "Train's filling up. Probably want to get a move on, kiddo."
"Yeah. Right. See you at Christmas, Mr. and Mrs. Deaton!" Scorpius turned his trolley toward the barrier and started towards it. He breathed a deep sigh of relief when his father's hand fell from his shoulder.
"Have a nice school year, Scorpius!" Mrs. Deaton called back.
"Where've you been?" Dean asked as the door to the compartment slid open and Scorpius stepped in.
"We ran into your parents on the platform."
Dean pushed his glasses up his nose. "Did your folks give Mum a hard time?"
Scorpius shook his head and sank down into his usual seat by the window, across the aisle from Dean. "No, they behaved. But I think they wanted to."
"At least they're trying to be civil. More than some people." Dean looked pointedly out the window at the three Zabinis, standing together on the platform. Ankaa Zabini was a year younger than Scorpius, but she treated everyone (even seventh years) as inferiors, something she'd evidently learned from her parents.
"If only she weren't so pretty," Dean continued.
Ankaa was gorgeous. Long black hair, warm caramel skin, slender body with just the right amount of curves. She was wearing short, tight-fitting black robes with long sweeping sleeves. It was no doubt the latest fashion trend – her mother, Aquila Zabini, was a magical supermodel. As Ankaa turned to hug her parents goodbye, Scorpius noted that the back of her outfit was very, very low cut. If he was at the right angle, and if she moved just right, he could almost see her arse crack peeping out just above the line of black fabric . . .
"Scorp? You're drooling."
Scorpius realized he'd actually stood up to try to get a better view. His face flushed red and he sat back down, glad Dean had snapped him out of it before he'd gone too far.
"Erm, yeah. At least she won't be dressed like that in class."
Dean grinned. "Is that your wand in your pocket?"
Scorpius felt his face burn even hotter. "People shouldn't go around wearing things like that," he grumbled. He snatched his school bag from the seat beside him and draped it over his lap.
"She'd sure catch hell from McGonagall if she got off the train like that," Dean agreed. He pulled a slightly squished pumpkin pasty from his pocket and offered it to Scorpius, who declined. "It really is too bad she's such a bitch."
"Potter, Lily!" Professor Flitwick squeaked.
"Gryffindor," Scorpius muttered to himself. Potters were always Gryffindors, just like Weasleys. Scorpius sometimes wished he'd been destined for something other than Slytherin. Well, maybe not Hufflepuff, but Gryffindor or Ravenclaw might have been cool.
If he'd been a Ravenclaw, he would be sitting next to Dean right now instead of Michael Flint, who was telling off-color jokes to the Slytherin table and elbowing Scorpius in the ribs after every joke.
"GRYFFINDOR!" The sorting hat exclaimed. The cute little red head dropped the old hat gently back on the stool and almost skipped to her new house table. A burning sensation rose in Scorpius' throat as he watched Lily's older brothers scoot over to make room for her.
Why should I be jealous of them? Scorpius took a sip of water from his goblet. Looking at the three siblings was difficult, and it made the burning sensation worse, so he turned his attention elsewhere.
"Am I right? Am I right?" Michael was chuckling. The next elbow jab was coming. Scorpius grabbed Michael's elbow and slammed it against the table's edge. Michael stood up and howled, clutching his bruised arm.
Professor Flitwick stopped reading students' names from the list and turned to see what the commotion was about. The teachers at the high table turned to look, as well. Scorpius watched as the headmistress leaned over to speak to Professor Higgs, the new Head of Slytherin House. The burning sensation fell into his stomach. He was going to get detention before the term even officially started. Yes, and now Higgs was getting up from the teacher's table and making his way toward the Slytherin table.
"I'm sorry for the interruption," Headmistress Clearwater said. "Please, Professor Flitwick, continue."
"Stevens, Methias!"
Michael was still whining about his elbow when Professor Higgs reached them.
Higgs leaned down and spoke softly in Scorpius' ear. "I need to see you in my office, Mr. Malfoy."