for the holyhead harpies, round 2, seeker, write about a character(s) that manipulate others for their own agendas, whether good or bad

1365 words by google docs

thank you to emma and ev for betaing!

When Scorpius turns three, Astoria starts to work at St Mungo's. When Scorpius turns three, Draco is the one who's mostly taking care of him — his job as an auror is based mostly on when they need him, so he doesn't have to be in the office most of the time.

Honestly? Draco kind of sucks at it.

It's not that he doesn't love Scorpius — Scorpius is probably the most important person in the world to him, maybe only second to Astoria — but it's because three-year-olds are awful.

Draco first notices it when he fixes Scorpius lunch for the first time. He married Astoria with little to no knowledge of cooking — he had grown up with house elves his entire life, he never needed to know — and in the four years of their marriage, he's been steadily improving. He still feels a rush of pride whenever he cooks a meal that's actually edible.

So he makes Scorpius lunch. It's just some pasta, nothing fancy. He places the plate on their dining room table, in front of Scorpius's seat.

Scorpius stares at it, his grey eyes calculating. Three minutes go by of Scorpius looking at the plate and Draco looking at Scorpius look at the plate. At the fourth minute, Scorpius juts his lower lip out and says, "Chocolate."

"Choc — what?" Draco asks, frowning. Of course he knows what chocolate is — he's not entirely stupid — but he has no idea why his son is saying it.

"I wan' chocolate," Scorpius says, looking up from his plate to his father. His blond brows are furrowed as he frowns at Draco.

Draco may be a relatively new father, but he's certain that chocolate isn't a suitable lunch. Besides, he married a healer; she's not one for most sweets. The least healthy thing they have in the house is probably the pasta on Scorpius' plate, solely because of the carbs.

"We don't have chocolate," Draco tells his son, moving his chair over a couple of inches. He grabs the fork besides Scorpius' plate and twirls a little bit of pasta onto it. "We have spaghetti."

He tries to bring the fork to Scorpius' mouth, but Scorpius pushes away Draco's hand.

"I no wan' 'paghetti," he says, still frowning deeply. "Wan' chocolate."

Draco pauses. He doesn't even know where his son tasted chocolate in the first place — probably his visiting his aunt, or something. He can feel a storm brewing up, though, and he needs to diffuse the situation and get the pasta into his son's stomach.

"We don't have any," he repeats. "This is your lunch. You can eat it or not."

Maybe it's a tad harsh, but Draco himself was raised with his father putting a firm foot down. He turned out okay — and he never had chocolate for lunch.

Scorpius glances at the plate before looking up at Draco, his eyes wide. His lower lip is still jutted out and it trembles before tears start to well up in his eyes.

"I wan' chocolate," Scorpius repeats, his voice low, but tears starting to pour down his cheeks.

Draco's heart stops. He hates seeing his son cry — hated it from the moment the boy was born and he hates it now.

"Okay," he says quickly, standing up. He picks Scorpius up and places his head on his shoulder. Amazingly, the simple action makes Scorpius' tears stop. "We'll go out and get you chocolate for lunch. Sound good?"

Scorpius nods against Draco's neck and Draco sighs. Situation effectivly diverted.

A few weeks later, Draco takes Scorpius to the park. Astoria was very particular when they were deciding where to live. Both Draco and Astoria grew up in big manors, without many neighbors. Their only friends were other rich kids their parents forced them to play that. Astoria didn't want that for their future kids. She wanted them to have organic friendships, and for that reason, they settled in the Muggle suburbs.

Their house is only a few blocks away from a park, and Astoria had suggested that Scorpius should start interacting more with kids his age, so Draco takes him over on a lazy afternoon.

At first, Scorpius doesn't want to go, but once Draco promises Auntie Andromeda's cookies on their return, he's enthusiastic to go.

When they arrive, Draco takes in the scene — there are several kids running around, climbing the structures, going down slides, being pushed on swings. On the sidelines, parents are sitting, talking amongst themselves as they keep an eye on their children. It seems a little overwhelming, for both Draco and Scorpius.

"What do you want to do first, bud?" Draco asks his son, who seems reluctant to move from his side. Scorpius just holds onto Draco's hand, trying to move even closer to his father. "Go play," Draco says.

He lets go of Scorpius' hand and gives him a little nudge towards the main structure. Scorpius looks up at Draco, frowning a little bit.

"It's okay," Draco reassures him. "Remember the cookies?" he reminds him. Scorpius immediately lights up, nodding. Without even saying goodbye to Draco, he runs towards the jungle gym in the center, starting to climb.

Draco takes a seat on a bench, giving a polite smile to the parent on the other end. He watches as Scorpius climbs up a few rungs and then sees him slip and fall onto his knees, catching himself with his hands.

Realistically, Draco knows that a fall like that couldn't hurt Scorpius that much. Nevertheless, Draco rushes over and picks his son up.

"You okay?" he asks, grabbing and rubbing Scorpius' hand where he fell.

"Wanna go home," Scorpius responds, pouting and sniffing. With the hand Draco's not holding, he rubs his eyes, as if wiping away tears. Draco knows that his son isn't actually crying, but seeing his son look so upset makes his heart clench. Shifting Scorpius' weight, he brushes some of his son's blond hair out of his forehead and nods.

"Okay," Draco says, starting to walk away from the playground structure. "Let's go home."

A few weeks later, Astoria finally has time off from work before Scorpius' bedtime. To celebrate the small victory, they have a family dinner. Draco makes roast beef and they sit down at the table.

For the first fifteen minutes, Draco and Astoria talk, Draco makes faces at Scorpius to make him smile, and they have nice family time for the first time in a month.

Scorpius eats the meat and mashed potatoes on his plate, but he leaves behind his broccoli. Not even touching it, he looks up at his father.

"Bedtime!" he cheers, interrupting Astoria telling Draco about a stubborn patient she was treating the other day.

Draco is about to get up to put his son to bed — he seems finished, after all, and after dinner is bedtime — but Astoria raises an eyebrow at him. He stays sitting.

"Scorp, you need to eat your vegetables," she says, gesturing towards the leftover greens on her son's plate. Scorpius pouts.

"They're yucky," he reasons. "Wanna go to bed."
"It's okay," Draco says quickly. He wouldn't want his mother to force him to eat his vegetables. Plus, he doesn't want Scorpius to get upset and cry. "If you want to go to bed, we can go to bed."

Scorpius reaches out his arms, and Draco his about to get up and scoop his son up, but Astoria stops him.

"Draco," she says, her voice steady, looking at her husband, "don't let him manipulate you." Turning back to Scorpius, she says, "You need to finish your vegetables before you go to bed."

"I've been through the Death Eaters," Draco reasons, not letting Scorpius respond. He frowns at his wife's statement. He's not letting Scorpius manipulate him. "A three-year-old wouldn't be able to manipulate me."

Scorpius just pouts at Draco, still threatening to cry. Draco's heart pangs. Scorpius' arms are still outstretched towards his father, and Draco really wants to ignore his wife's look and pick his son up and bring him to bed.

And then he thinks, Oh. Maybe Astoria has a point.