Scorpius Malfoy and the House Elf Liberation

Chapter One

The Son Always Rises

Scorpius Malfoy was very proud to say that he was a pure-blood wizard, thank you very much. He'd been raised as far from Muggles as his father could get him, and until he'd begun his first year at Hogwarts he'd never even met a Muggle—er, Mudblood. His first pet had been a toad (his mother had insisted) followed quickly by an owl. He'd been wearing dress robes by the time he was two years old.

It was all thanks to his father, of course. Draco Malfoy was an extremely important man in the Ministry of Magic. Scorpius was never certain exactly what it was that his father did. . .but it must have been very important, since he had to work late every night, and rarely was home even on the weekends. Scorpius, then, had been raised almost entirely by his mother, a very worthy witch in her own right.

Pansy Malfoy was devoted to one thing, and one thing only – her husband, the much-esteemed Draco. She took care of Scorpius almost as an after-thought, and he'd grown up with a rather boring existence. His only real friends had been his owl, and the house elf, Dungeon. The owl didn't talk much, however, even when enchanted, and Dungeon wasn't much for talking, either. Mostly he just bowed and said "Master, Master, Master."

All in all, though, Scorpius couldn't complain. Sometimes friends of his mother or father would come visit, and they always brought treats. Mr. Goyle was his absolute favorite. It was Mr. Goyle who had taught Scorpius how to fly on his very first toy broom. His father wanted to, of course, Mother explained, he was just too busy. Drastic occurrences at the ministry.

Scorpius had always known that he would be going to Hogwarts, and he'd always known just what House he would be sorted into – Slytherin. Every Malfoy, Black, and Parkinson ever had been sorted into Slytherin. Well, except for the Azkaban Prisoner, Sirius. He'd somehow ended up in Gryffindor.

Scorpius didn't mind the foregone conclusion of his Sorting – it had taken some of the stress off his first year. His father had explained all about the Slytherin Code of Honor – it was about the only time his father ever got excited about anything. Besides, Scorpius was a Parseltongue, and he'd always enjoyed the presence of snakes, so it seemed like the perfect fit.

Of course, one thing had gotten in the way of his plans for the perfect 1st year.

With a sigh, Scorpius stared distrustfully at the three envelopes he held in his hand, recently delivered by three separate owls. One had Albus Potter's careful script, one had the loopy curls of Lavender Finnigan, and the final one was the quick scratches of one Rose Weasley.

He'd had to hide the letters from his father, of course. Though Draco admitted a grudging admiration for Harry Potter (Chosen One and Savior of the Wizarding World) he laughed whenever the Finnigan name was brought up, and he still detested the Weasley family.

"Blood traitors," he'd hissed, when Scorpius had innocently mentioned that there were a gaggle of redheads at Hogwarts. "Dirty purebloods – you stay away from them, son."

Draco had assumed that would be the last of it. His word was absolute law in his house.

Luckily, Scorpius spent most of the year away from his father.

He carried the envelopes to his room, a massive empire that more resembled its own flat than a bedroom. Though his father's family had lost some prestige when Harry Potter (Chosen One and Savior of the Wizarding World) had defeated Voldemort, the family wealth had remained intact. Scorpius lay out on his bed and proceeded to open the first letter.

Hey, Scorpius,

Dad wanted to know if you wanted to come to the Quidditch Finals with us this year. He's got box seats, like always, and said I could invite some friends. . .so I thought I'd invite you and Lavender. Rose and her family are going, obviously. Plus, Dad thinks he can get us a meeting with Mr. Wood. How awesome would that be!

Owl back and let me know. Oh, have you started reading the books for this year? Potions sounds like it will be deadly.

Albus

Scorpius smiled, and folded the letter carefully, placing it back in its envelopes. He'd have to ask Mother if he was allowed to go. . .his father would never agree to it. Not if he'd be in the same box as Weasley's. The smile still on his face, he opened the second letter.

Hi, Scorpy!

Isn't it wonderful? Did you get the owl from Al? You're going, of course! I was invited, too. I'm so excited! Mum says she'll let me borrow her radish necklace – says it will keep away all of the Squiderwamps. Dad says it's a load of rubbish, but I know he's excited. He said they'll camp out, but that I can sit with you and Al.

Hey, did you start reading the books for Potions, yet? I think I'm going to have to switch classes. I don't understand a single thing!

Love, hugs, and kisses!

Lav

Scorpius had to reread Lavender's letter again. What, exactly, what a Squiderwamp? Then again, he didn't want to know. Lavender's mother was the editor of the Quibbler, and sometimes she knew about things that. . .nobody else knew about. Finally, he came to the last letter.

Scorpius,

Dad almost blew his top when I asked if you could stay with us a spell over winter break. I guess he's not too happy that we're friends. It makes sense, I guess. He's still got those gross welts on his forearms that he said your dad gave him. Mom said it's okay, though, so I guess you're invited. They're fighting again. . .I feel kind of bad, since this time it is certainly my fault. Dad's been sleeping on the couch for almost a week, though Hugo says he always spells it to be a bed, so I guess it's not that bad.

Anyway, it's settled. Right after the Quidditch match, you're all coming over. It's going to be fantastic! And you'll finally get to meet Alex Krum. I'm so excited. I just know that you'll love him!

Rose

Scorpius sighed as he bound all three of the letters together. Alex Krum was the son of the famous former Quidditch player, Viktor Krum. At least that was one thing Father would be happy about, Scorpius thought glumly. Meeting a Krum should cheer him up a little.

Over dinner, he asked his mother if he could go to the QUidditch finals. Paying her son only a modicum of attention, as usual, Pansy agreed. Scorpius couldn't help but feel a little tickle of excitement in his belly, though he tried to ignore it. Still, maybe there was hope that his 4th year at Hogwarts would go better than the first three!

As he fell asleep, Scorpius couldn't quit get visions of golden snitches and red hair out of his head. . .

* * * * *

"Ronald, really," Hermione said, standing in the hallway, both hands on her hips, and brushy brown hair flowing around her like a Shielding Cloak. "What kind of example are you setting for the children!"

"Compromise?" Ron asked hopefully, peeping up at his wife from his Transfigured bed. When she continued to glare at him, he sighed, flicked his wand, and transformed the bed back into a couch.

"Happy?" he asked. She just made a sniffing sound and headed back into the kitchen.

"Nice work, Dad," Hugo said, popping his head out from around the armchair. "You got caught, huh?"

Ron sighed and shook his head ruefully. "Never try to trick your mother," he said sternly. Under his breath he added, "she always finds out eventually."

"So, can we practice Quidditch today?" Hugo asked.

"I don't know," Ron said slowly. He peeked toward the kitchen again. No sign of the warrior woman. "I think I'm grounded."

"Dad, come on," Hugo rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll just Floo Uncle George. He'll play."

"You will do no such thing," Hermione yelled from the kitchen. "Your beloved Uncle George is banned from the House until he replaces the mirror he broke."

"He didn't break it," Hugo said, smiling broadly. "He just changed it a little."

Truer words had never been spoken. The last time George had entered the Weasley-Granger abode, he'd been taken with the large, full-length mirror that graced the adult's bedroom.

"What's this for?" he'd asked, curiously. After a moment's thought, he'd burst into a broad smile. "Oh! I get it! To watch your extra curricular activities!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione had said. "It's to make certain that Ron's socks match his belt and jacket in the morning when he dresses."

"It's true," Ron admitted. "I'm really spotty."

"Now, now, you two," George chided. "I'm not one of your children. Don't worry, I can take the truth."

"That is the truth," Hermione had said firmly. She'd thought the matter had been dropped. But that night, when she and Ron had been getting ready for bed, the mirror had. . .changed. It now reflected past events that had happened in the bedroom. And on the sofa. And, Hermione has ashamed to admit, even in the kitchen (though she'd scoured it clean for hours afterward!)

"Oh, well," Hugo sighed. "What do you reckon I should do today?"

"You could try studying," his sister said imperiously, as she floated down the staircase. "Professor Flitwick implied that your grades were somewhat less than up to the Granger precedent."

"I'm not a Granger," Hugo said petulantly. "I'm a Weasley. Weasley's have never been good at school."

"Your Uncle Percy was an exceptional student," Hermione pointed out, peeking out from the kitchen. "Uncle Bill was Head Boy. And Aunt Ginny received the highest marks for Defense Agasint the Dark Arts in the history of Hogwarts. Besides. . ." she paused for a moment, and licked whatever batter rested on her spatula. "You are half-Granger."

"Like I said," Rose said, settling herself on the couch and carefully arranging her dress. "Try studying."

"Try pulling that broom out from your ass," Hugo said rudely. Luckily Hermione didn't hear it, although Hugo's father did pull the wand from his hand, saying "grounded. Two weeks."

"Fine," Hugo crossed his arms and proceeded to pout. "She's just acting like this because Alex is coming to visit," he said. "She's in looooove with him."

"She is not," Ron said. "Rosie is far too dedicated to her schoolwork to bother with some boy."

"What if I am in love with him?" Rose said, sticking her chin up in the air. "Alex is a wonderful young man. Besides. Aunt Ginny fell in love with Uncle Harry before her first year."

"Ew," Hugo said, his eyes wide. "Don't let Scorpius hear you."

"Why would Malfoy care?" Their father asked.

"He's in loooooove with Rose," Hugo said.

"We're just friends," Rose said, though she lifted the book a little closer to her nose.

"Scorpius and Rosie, sitting in a tree. . ." Hugo said.

"Watch it young man," their father said. "you're pushing for three weeks."

The tips of Rose's ears were turning red.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G. . ."

"Hugo Bartholomew Weasley. . ." their father's voice was turning a little panicked.

"First comes love. . ."

"Oh, that does it!" Rose said. She jumped to her feet, her ears burning red, and threw the book at her brother with all her might. It clipped him on the side of the head, and he tumbled off the chair he was sitting on.

"Well, sweetie," Ron said mildly. "I'm very proud of you. No magic that time."

"Yes, well," Rose said down, all prim and proper again. "I hardly want to go to Court. Again."

Shamefacedly, Hugo slowly stood up. "I think I'm going to go study some," he said morosely.

"Yes," Ron agreed. "That sounds like a very good idea.