Author's Notes: So I'm back to side-pieces to Birds become Dragons. Now this one follows chapter 29, right off the end of it, and you do need to have read that to understand this.
If you are a stranger to my ongoing fic, I hope this will lure you into it ;)
Now, reviews make me very happy, please share your thoughts. Hope you enjoy.
Auror Inspection
March 2006
Draco makes sure Astoria is comfortable and eats properly, and that Scorpius is happy in his nursery with his zebra-looking kneazle. He suspects his son will name it just that. As long as it gets along with Delphini's and doesn't try to eat the raven, he is perfectly fine with it, however ridiculous it may sound.
He ambles into his study and walks to the fireplace, tossing some Floo Powder at the flames.
"Did you hear the news?" He says as a head shows up amongst the burning wood.
"Yes", replies the burning Potter head. "Hermione just told us. I guess we can pass this Ministry call for an Auror checking, so see you in the summer."
"You can still come by the manor. We can have a bit of a laugh."
"And leave Ginny and Hermione to deal with the kids? I'd rather keep my head, thank you very much."
"Nick could use the company..."
A second head shows up in the fire, this one is red anyway. "Can I sleep while you two laugh?"
Potter has a look of absolute disbelief. "Hermione is going to kill you. Slowly!"
"Shut up! I'm awaken by one of two screaming children in the middle of the night, several times a night! This is the perfect excuse not to go straight home, plus I get a nap. Malfoy, we're coming. Not a word, Harry!"
His head is gone from the fire then.
"Can I trust you to cover for us?" Harry's head asks.
"Sure. I'll let the house-elf know you're coming. You'll be brought in straight away. I'll have fire whiskey on the rocks waiting for you and a nice pillow for Weasley."
They are both in his study not ten minutes later.
They drop themselves on the cushioned leather pair of armchairs that awaits them. He extends the obviously exhausted Aurors the tumblers he readied for them, but not before tossing a pillow and a quilt at Weasley.
"Blimey, Malfoy, you got yourself a very nice place in here. And quiet. I think this is the quietest place I've ever been. Don't you have two kids running around?"
"They behave, you know. I trust Hermione to know a couple of things about raising children. You Weasleys only know how to raise litters."
They all laugh at the jibe. It's something they are capable of, now.
"What's worst for you? The job or the kids?"
"The kids!" Comes the simultaneous answer, accompanied by highly expressive looks on their faces.
"Hunting wizards gone rogue and wayward witches is easy compared to what my house looks like these days. Three kids. Three magical kids!" Potter continues, taking a deep breath and an even deeper gulp from the glass in his hand.
"They stay awake forever! No Invigoration Draft needed. And it's not the sugar either. You know how Hermione is about sugar; Rose and Hugo hardly ever get it." Weasley talks like he is in a trance, eyes lost somewhere past the wall. "And when you do get them to sleep, they get up. Again and again. They're taking bloody shifts now! Mione says I don't wake up half the time, and I would thank Merlin for it, except she kicks me, literally, off the bed those times!"
Draco and Harry share a hearted laugh as Ron drinks up.
"If it makes you feel any better, Ginny turns beater when I pretend to be asleep despite the obvious crying. She'll hit me with the pillow until I'm up and then toss whatever is in reach if I don't get to the door fast enough. She nearly kicked out Kreacher while she was pregnant with Lily!"
"Mione has decided that the house-elf is to be left to enjoy its off time, go figure, every night starting at ten o'clock. Until six in the bloody morning!"
"Granger keeps a house-elf!? Potter, is this true?" Draco is positively surprised.
"Keep your socks on, Malfoy! It's a free elf, she pays him and forces him to take every other Sunday off." He shakes his head, but there's a warm smile in his face. "How does Astoria get you up in the night?"
It's an honest question, there's no malice in it, so he shrugs his shoulders and simply replies that Scorpius is a quiet child; that he sleeps through the night. He enjoys these moments of relaxation with them, but he will not share his concern. This heavy thing that inhabits the corner of his mind, ever present. That Astoria can't get up that quickly the few times Scorpius does wake. That she never gets him up because he awakes at every minute change in her breathing, let alone at the cries of his son.
Potter diverts the subject to his other kid. He takes a sip of his tumbler before telling him the whole thing. He thinks twice, knowing Weasley is likely to be made uncomfortable by some of details. But when he looks at him, he finds that the time it took them to change the subject was enough for him to fall asleep, open-mouthed and slightly snoring. So he tells Potter.
"She considers Aguamenti a simple spell at the age of eight? Remember me not to teach the usual D.A.D.A. lessons while she's there. Don't take me wrong, it's just that she will probably put me to shame."
"She didn't get to do it properly. McGonagall is going to like her, for sure; Flitwick is going to lose it the day she starts levitating stuff like it's nothing. She doesn't even need a wand for that as it is."
"So she is truly gifted? She isn't just good at… you know."
"No, it's not all she's good at. She is gifted. Once she learns proper control, she'll be everyone's favourite pupil."
The subject becomes heavy. Dwelling into her future is an exercise they both shy from.
They talk of this and that for a while longer, until Harry decides this "Auror Inspection", as the Ministry calls it, has been thorough enough and that they should be on their way.
He shakes Ron, in a feeble attempt to rouse him. All he gets is incoherent mumbling about pudding and mandrakes.
Draco decides to try something else. "Merlin's beard, that's a big spider!"
Ron is so flustered by the possibility of a spider in the room that he flips the armchair over, turning the remaining fire whiskey on his tumbler all over his face.
"Merlin's balls, Malfoy! Not bloody funny!"