Title: A Simple Misunderstanding About Fawkes
Author: persephoneapple
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: 1165
Disclaimer: JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.
A/N: unbeta'd and Fawkes lives at Hogwarts after the war.
Summary: Harry swears, Scorpius hears, and this morning just shot to hell.
A Simple Misunderstanding About Fawkes
"Oh for fuck's sake!" Coffee splashes onto the Daily Prophet as Harry slams down his cup on the kitchen table. His skin burns where stray drops of liquid have landed, but Harry is too furious with the Prophet's headlines to care.
"Oooh, Daddy cursed!" Scorpius says with a lisp as he writes in his journal. "Wait 'til Father hears about this!"
No! Harry thinks as he begins to panic, Draco absolutely cannot know I swore in front of Scorpius. Again. Narcissa had been shocked to hear her only grandchild say shit when he had dropped his ice lolly to the ground during their last visit to the Manor. Immediately a house-elf had appeared and washed Scorpius' mouth with soap and water, which apparently was the usual Malfoy punishment for swearing. Later that night after Scorpius had been tucked into bed, Harry and Draco decided that they needed to be careful about what they said around Scorpius. It would not bode well if he learned hurtful words such as 'mudblood.'
"You're not going to tell him anything because there's nothing to tell. I didn't curse." When he receives a dubious look from Scorpius, Harry quickly adds, "I said 'Fawkes,' not- that other word."
"Fucks?" supplies Scorpius helpfully as he sits up straighter in his chair with his arms crossed. There's now a mischievous look on his face that gives Harry no doubt that Scorpius knows he has lied through his teeth.
Harry sighs and runs a hand through his unruly hair before speaking. He's lucky that at least he had thought up of an explanation to give his son in case he ever misspoke. "No, don't say that word, Scorpius. I said Fawkes."
"What? I don't hear a difference."
"Fawkes is the name of the bird, a phoenix actually, whose feather makes up my wand core." Harry reaches down and picks up his holly wand, the familiar magic sending a warmth through his body when he touches it. He hands it to Scorpius, who looks pleased that he can be trusted with something so powerful. After all, he's known the myth behind the wand and its part in helping defeat Voldemort ever since he could remember.
Scorpius' look of pride turns to one of astonishment when he waves the wand and says the spell he's been practicing with his father: "Wingardium Leviosa!" He looks at Harry with wide eyes and Harry doesn't bother hiding his grin when the Daily Prophet starts to float a few inches above the table. There's no need to spoil Scorpius' joy by explaining that he did a bit of accidental magic.
"Very good, Scorpius. Perhaps I'll take you to go visit him one day. He still lives at Hogwarts."
Scorpius smiles and begins to chatter, but Harry attention is drawn to the window, where in the distance he can see many owls flying towards their house, some with red envelopes attached to their legs. He groans at the hassle Rita Skeeter has caused with just a single gossip article. And to think it made the front page. Hopefully the wards Hermione and Bill had set around the property held or else it was going to be a long morning. "Fuck," he says absentmindedly.
"Fucks," Scorpius agrees with a pleased look. "Can I tell Father?"
"Tell me what, Potter?"
Harry turns around in his seat at the sound of Draco's voice, hoping that the other man doesn't look outside. Even though it's early Saturday morning, Draco has already showered and dressed in a blue button-down shirt and black slacks. He gives Harry a sharp glance and Harry does his best to not look guilty.
"Nothing. Do you want me to make you some coffee?" Draco hates coffee, but Harry just wants a distraction. He has no such luck this morning. Draco shakes his head at the suggestion before sitting down across from Scorpius.
"Do you have something to tell me?" Draco asks.
Scorpius squirms and then sneaks a glance at Harry before looking back at Draco. He didn't promise Harry he would keep it a secret. "Yes! Daddy's going to take me to see Fucks. Do you want to come visit him, too?"
To give Draco credit, he doesn't chastise Scorpius over the use of a curse word or even laugh at the mispronunciation. Instead all he says is "We'll see," before Summoning the tea and sugar. Scorpius, who's finished with his breakfast, gives Harry a grateful smile as he sneaks out of the kitchen.
As soon as Scorpius is gone, Draco says, "Fucks? I do wonder how the Saviour is going to explain his way out of this mess."
Harry directs his husband's attention to the owls outside who can't get past the wards. "I wonder what it would actually take to convince everyone that I am a happily married man with a wonderful husband and fantastic child."
Draco frowns at those words, but he can't get a question in before Harry hands him the Prophet. Draco looks at the front page where the headline reads: Amortentia Behind the Success of Harry Potter's 'Happy' Life. Skeeter wrote that at a recent Auror physical examination, large traces of Amortentia were found in Harry's bloodstream. Draco Malfoy is currently the main suspect because as it stands, he is the only person who could benefit from, as well as discretely give Harry, the potion. Skeeter finishes the article stating that it was only a matter of time before a divorce is announced. Draco scowls as he Incendios the paper and Vanishes the ashes.
"I don't give a fuck what everyone thinks, but for me to stoop so low as to give you a love potion? I hardly needed to do anything drastic to win you; you came willingly. However, it might be time to bring forth another lawsuit against Skeeter and the Prophet. I'll go draw up the papers." Harry smiles at the thought that Draco is angry that someone would dare question the validity of their relationship after all this time, even if it comes from a gossip source.
Draco stands and exits the kitchen, but it's only seconds before he returns with a smirk on his face. "Don't think I haven't forgotten about 'Fucks.' Pay up, Potter," Draco says as he holds out a glass jar and shakes it, the gold coins inside rattling.
Harry grumbles as he reaches into his pocket and takes out seven Galleons, which he figures should be enough to cover every curse word said that morning. A thoughtful expression crosses his face and he tears a sheet out of Scorpius' journal, scribbles a sentence down, and the signs his name before tossing everything in the jar.
Draco snatches the note and scoffs as he reads it. "Really, Potter? You owe me a hundred Galleons?"
"Absolutely. I think that should cover anything and everything I might accidentally say for the next hour, fucks included. After all, you have always mention how much I babble incoherently during mind-blowing sex!"