Two Weeks with the Malfoys, a harry potter fanfic

Two Weeks with the Malfoys

Prologue

Rose had, of course, initially been against the idea of spending two weeks at the Malfoys'. At least, she had felt inwardly against it, if she hadn't put the feeling forth in words. Scorpius had seemed to sense her reluctance and assured her that he didn't live in a cave full of bats and purebloods and torture devices. Rose insisted that she'd had no such suspicions, but her voice had altered. In the end, Scorpius had won, and so now she was standing in her fireplace with her suitcase in one hand and floo powder in the other.

"Malfoy family summer estate."

Travelling by floo felt like spinning on a never-ending tire swing, and so naturally Rose adored it. She'd become very good at enunciating destinations and pressing her arms to her sides. Hugo was not nearly so adept at floo travel and Rose delighted in teasing him about it whenever the opportunity arose. A specific favourite memory of hers included Hugo's hapless journey to a fireplace in Limerick.

"Glad to see you've found your way safely, Miss Weasley. You'll find that Scorpius will be down in just a moment."
"Ah, thank you," Rose murmured a split second late. There was always an air of discomfort between Scorpius's father and herself. She always much preferred to interact with Mrs. Malfoy, who warmly referred to her as "dear Rose." Mr. Malfoy didn't seem unfriendly, exactly, just not quite sure how to behave in front of her. She had a sense that he wasn't so formal with everyone or else his manner would have been more relaxed, but she supposed he might be the unsettled sort.

Rose brushed off her pants only to realize that the fireplace was immaculately clean. Stepping out of it, she admired the way it looked a bit like a rock wall, with large stones arranged tightly together. Rose brushed off an offer of tea from a passing house elf and looked around the room. It was exceedingly cozy-looking, with shrugging armchairs and worn bookcases. Every piece in the room matched perfectly, however. Rose felt like she was looking over concept-art of a country cottage.

"Miss Weasley, please, have a seat." Mr. Malfoy gestured to one of the many armchairs and Rose hesitantly lifted her suitcase and moved toward the chair. Just as she was sitting down, a blond boy ducked into the room.

"There you are, Scorpius. To make up for keeping the young lady waiting, why don't you carry Miss Weasley's bag to her room?" Mr. Malfoy gave his son a stern but gentle pat on the shoulder. Scorpius replied with a nod, but turned to Rose and rolled his eyes with a look of exaggerated irritation. Rose stifled a giggle and felt far more comfortable than she had moments before in the strangely showroom house.

Scorpius took her suitcase and led her from the room. As soon as his father was out of earshot, he whispered to Rose, "Merlin, my dad is trying so hard not to scare you off."
Rose snorted. "Oh, is that what it is?"

Scorpius grinned and replied, "No, I swear, in his own bizarre way. He even had Fritty take a break from fixing the dining room table so that he could fetch you tea."

"Oh." Rose felt a pang of guilt for turning down the tea without a second thought.

Apparently reading her mind, Scorpius paused on the stairs and turned to look back at her, causing her to stop as well. "You said no to the tea, didn't you?"

"I did," she admitted.

"Good, mother always has them get this awful green sort-not like the kind we have at school. It's like drinking leaves." Scorpius made a face at the thought of it.

"Tea-leaves, you mean?" Rose suggested with a wry smile, traces of guilt gone.

"Shut up, Rose Weasley, or I'll lead you the wrong way on purpose."

"What, to your room?" Rose shot back with a laugh. She noticed wish surprise that Scorpius's ears had gone red as he continued silently up the stairs in front of her. "I was only kidding," she murmured, hoping she hadn't offended him somehow.

"Huh? I know," he replied easily from in front, ears still red. Rose decided to leave it at that.