Disclaimer: Homophobes of the world would really hate if I owned it… hello prequel, starring the Marauders, and centering on Remus and Sirius's disgustingly fluffy, romantic relationship! XP
A/N: I really like the Shakespeare quote for this one… it's a very poetic way of saying "It's now or never". :D
If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to
come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come—the
readiness is all. Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows what is't
to leave betimes, let be.
Hamlet Act 5, Scene 2
"Why do you have to be our escort, Weasley?" Draco asked grudgingly.
Ron rolled his eyes at the familiar head in dancing emerald flames. "I've known you for thirty years, and I've been an Auror for around fifteen of them, Malfoy. Would you rather some stranger hold your family's secret in their hands?" He raised an eyebrow, and leaned back on two legs of his chair, his arms crossed. He rather enjoyed having the upper hand. He didn't plan on using the fact to blackmail the man in any way whatsoever, but having Malfoy know that he was in a lose-lose situation was sweet victory in Ron's mind.
Draco didn't respond, but only pierced the redhead with his eyes.
"I'll drive to the Manor at eight," Ron moved to stand up from his cozy chair in his sitting room.
"What is 'drive'?" Draco's brow furrowed at the foreign word.
"Drive? With a car, like the Muggles."
"Like how you flew to school in Second Year?" He seemed to strain to remember.
"Yes, but on the ground."
"How does it go, then?" It was crazy talk, to suggest that something could move without some magical force acting on it.
"Using a motor." Ron tried to keep the explanation as simple as possible, seeing as how he didn't grasp the concept entirely himself.
"A what?" This only confused Draco more, his mind reeling to recall a time when he'd ever heard the word.
"Don't worry about it, Malfoy." The other man rolled his eyes.
"No, I can't go in something that I don't understand how it goes!" He protested.
"Malfoy, listen, if you don't want me to take you, you can just Apparate and see how things go from there." Ron knew fully well that Draco was told of the new Ministry policy: though now certified as Safe, Scorpius had to be monitored in crowded places to see how he reacted around groups of people.
Draco didn't like the tone of superiority the redhead had. "No, you listen, Weasel, you—"
"Oh, hello, Mr. Malfoy," Rose said pleasantly, her figure appearing at the doorway. She'd come down the hallway because she heard her father's voice getting more and more stressed, and wanted to see what the commotion was about.
"Hello…" He struggled to remember her name… how was he supposed to keep up with the Weasleys when they bred like nifflers?
"Rose," She filled in for him, her polite smile never faltering.
Ron smiled at his daughter's perfect timing. Having her around meant that they could now only have limited conversation. Frankly, he was quite ready for the exchange to be over anyway. "I'll be at the Manor at eight, okay?" He repeated.
"All right." Draco scowled. "If you're a minute late, Weasley, I'm Apparating."
"Duly noted." Ron rolled his eyes again.
With a final look of distaste, in the blink of an eye, Draco's head was gone, and normal orange-and-yellow flames crackled in the fireplace.
"Why do you have to go to Malfoy Manor?" Rose asked curiously, blocking the doorway to the room cleverly.
"Work stuff," Ron mumbled, trying to think of a way to elude her.
"What about taking me to King's Cross tomorrow?" She asked, looking at him expectantly.
"Your mother can take you."
"No she can't; she's trying Fenrir Greyback tomorrow, remember?" Though he didn't have the longest attention-span in the world, she thought her father could remember the headlines of the Daily Prophet for weeks straight; she thought an Auror would remember that they'd finally caught Fenrir Greyback.
Ron bit his lip with ears reddening, finding himself in an unfavorable situation. "I suppose you'll just have to go with me."
His daughter's eyebrows shot up. "Go with you? To Malfoy Manor?"
The older man nodded soberly, looking none too pleased at the decision.
"All right, then." She moved away from the doorway, trying to look as indifferent as possible.
His expression expertly conveying his feelings of exasperation, Ron rubbed his temples and trudged down the narrow hallway to his and Hermione's bedroom.
Rose followed him down the same hallway, but turned at a different door, instead going to her own, comfortable, pale yellow bedroom, nerves erupting in the pit of her stomach.
It wasn't like Rose had some kind of intense, inescapable, tragically unrequited crush on Scorpius Malfoy, or anything remotely along those lines; she just found him very intimidating. He was the type of boy who sat alone at most times, hardly ever talked unless spoken to first, and above all, rarely smiled in general public.
The two spoke, polite, casual conversation, from time to time on Prefect duty and things of the like, but he remained the only person who could ever really make her fidget.
Girls, for obvious reasons, loved to gossip about the boy. They'd coined him the 'Mysterious Heartthrob' (which made Rose want to vomit). She saw right through the fact that they liked him because he was "mysterious", which he was in his own way. They were only interested because the way he looked.
She wasn't denying that he was good-looking, but she knew that there was more to each person than their outward appearance.
He wasn't a particularly cold or cruel person; he was just naturally distant, quite the opposite of friendly, personable Rose Weasley. She figured that he was probably normal enough, but quiet because of all the bullying he endured up until Third Year. Rose wasn't one to sit back and watch him get provoked daily: she provided a few rather generous hexes to the people who picked on him when she felt it necessary. He didn't know about this, of course, and she preferred it this way.
She couldn't imagine how awkward she would feel going to his house…
Exhaling, she checked and re-checked the contents of her bulky trunk before crawling into bed.
The thought of going to school, as usual, excited Scorpius. He found himself going over what he packed repeatedly the night of August thirty-first, like every year, making sure he had everything necessary for his Sixth Year. All of his textbooks were piled neatly in the corner of his trunk, his Defense text on top, as he found himself reading and re-reading the book when he got bored. (He had the 'Werewolves' chapter nearly memorized.)
Defense Against the Dark Arts was easily his favorite class, with all the practical use that could come out of the facts and spells they learned. He was never ashamed when the Professor introduced a new lesson by saying that what they were learning was applied during the Second War, fighting against Death Eaters. Despite the teacher constantly getting antsy, and avoiding his eye, he felt, if anything, proud at how far his family had come in the years after the War.
Next to his books were his neatly folded blue and bronze ties ("Ravenclaw?" His father had echoed. His nose wrinkled slightly. "At least it's not Hufflepuff…"), his button-up shirts, and his uniform slacks. He re-straightened the generous stack of white shirts, before a thought struck him.
He pulled one out of the stack, laid it out on his navy bedspread, and pulled off his sweater. He replaced it with the button-up, leaving the top two buttons undone per usual. Looking in his floor-length mirror at his reflection, he noticed that the edge of his now fully-distinguishable, and rather hideous, scar peeked out from beneath his collar. He grimaced in disgust, just seeing the very tip of it.
There was no way he was going to get asked about the scar by anyone at school: he didn't have the energy to make up a plausible story, and he didn't want to hear their pity. It was hard enough to live with knowing he could kill any of these people at any given full moon… he didn't want to think about it when it wasn't near the full moon. The memories always gave him the impression that he was falling by the way his stomach dropped.
Absolutely refusing to look like a dorky git and button his shirt all the way up, he looked for an alternative. He unbuttoned the top, and was looking around his wardrobe when he saw the solution to his problem.
He pulled out the thin, dark turtleneck and pulled it over his head, layering the button-up over it. Looking back in the mirror, he saw that it covered the scar perfectly.
Smirking haughtily at his brilliance, he took every turtleneck and high-necked shirt he owned out of his wardrobe and miraculously found a way to fit the new abundance of clothing in with the rest of his belongings in the full-to-bursting trunk. He once again was grateful for his talent at the Bottomless Bag Charm.
Scowling at the discolored scar again once his chest was again bare, he remembered that the next full moon wasn't even two entire weeks into the school term.
A little more violently than needed, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a thermal shirt, and lay down.
Concentrating hard on his desire for darkness in the already dimly-lit room, he closed his fingers around his nimble wand and thought Nox.
The room immediately darkened as the temperature dropped, and he couldn't think of a more comfortable way to fall asleep.
It took Rose until the time she was sitting in the backseat of her father's small car with her trunk to keep her company to notice that she'd dressed up quite more than was called for. Sure, it was rather chilly, being September, but as she fidgeted with the slate-gray denim fabric clinging to her thighs, she realized that her best, warmest, most expensive, tailored coat wasn't really needed on the long drive to Hogwarts.
It was a very odd moment in the Malfoy establishment: Scorpius was nearly bouncing in his seat with excitement; Draco was sipping his black coffee in uncharacteristic silence, void of his usual early-morning complaining, his silvery eyes darting from the same Prophet entry to the door every few seconds; Astoria was busying herself around the kitchen. The woman, who once took great advantage of the fact that there were elves in the world, was doing housework
.
Needless to say, the air in the measureless kitchen was thick.
Scorpius wasn't hungry, but still ate his burnt batch of eggs for his mother's sanity. His pure silver, goblin-made utensils clinked together rather loudly, and Draco twitched with every small sound.
Scorpius smiled to himself, recalling a Care of Magical Creatures lesson in Third Year, when Professor Scamander introduced them to a bunch of Hippogriffs, who, at the time, were sleeping. He vividly remembered the sight of one spasm and emitting odd noises, dreaming, in the exact manner his father was.
Though both of his parents were acting strangely, though he knew that this year was going to be completely different than any before, Scorpius couldn't help the feeling of ecstatic anxiety percolating in his chest overtake any negative thoughts or emotions he had.
"Rose, what street was that?" Ron asked, leaning forward on the steering wheel for a better view of whatever he was looking for.
The redhead, whose eyes were on the pages of A Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6, looked behind them, only to see that the street sign was out of view. "I didn't see it, Dad, sorry." She responded brightly.
Ron grumbled something unintelligible, save for a few colorful curse words and the words "Malfoy" and something that sounded relative to "ferret".
Rose smiled into the words on the pages in front of her, no longer able to concentrate on them. She, instead, gazed out the window of the car, absorbing the scenery.
People and buildings were steadily becoming rare, instead replaced with dense trees, leaves beginning to tint with autumn colors. The paved road transitioned to one of dirt, and she was slightly surprised that the countryside was so serene. She didn't know why she suspected otherwise, but she didn't quite imagine the Manor to be in such a warm atmosphere.
Ron pressed on the breaks in the middle of the road, startling Rose.
She looked at him with a questioning expression.
"We're here," He replied simply.
She furrowed her brow and looked around, not seeing the grand, ostentatious mansion she'd been expecting. In fact, she didn't see anything at all, other than the same clusters of trees she'd been watching from out the window for miles.
"Where is it?" She asked, opening the door of the car.
"You'll see it in a minute," Ron responded, getting out as well, and starting down a worn path Rose hadn't noticed before.
She pulled her dark green pea-coat more tightly around her for a sense of security, and followed her father down the path, craning her neck every few steps for an indication of a manor.
Scorpius, for what seemed like the billionth time, glanced toward the clock. Seven fifty-seven.
"Dad, when are we leaving?" He asked his father, who was still looking at the Prophet, though his eyes had stopped moving across the page long ago.
Draco's grip on his mug of coffee tightened. "Whenever Weasley gets here."
Scorpius's brow furrowed. "Weasley?"
"Our escort," The older man's teeth clenched.
This only confused Scorpius more. "Rose Weasley?"
"No, no," Draco waved his hand impatiently. "Her father, Ron. He's an Auror."
The younger Malfoy nodded, finally understanding. "When is he supposed to be here?"
"In two minutes."
Scorpius nodded again.
Draco went back to wincing as the clock ticked, and Astoria still hadn't stopped Scorgifying the kitchen. Scorpius looked at her, concerned for her well being.
"Mum, do you want some help?" He asked carefully.
The plate she was obsessive-compulsively cleaning suddenly dropped to the ground and shattered noisily.
Both of the blonds stood immediately.
Draco muttered a Reparo, and crossed slowly over to his wife, resting a hand on the small of her back. "Astoria?"
Tear-filled blue eyes turned toward Draco's gray ones.
Intimacy between his parents generally made Scorpius uncomfortable. So did his mother's routine reactions to him leaving for school every year. Feeling that he was going to get an eyeful of both situations, Scorpius silently slipped out of the room.
His mother was a pro at making him feel guilty. Every year, on cue, on August thirty-first, she burst into tears and fawned over her son, incoherently blubbering about how he used to be so little, how much she would miss him, how far away Christmas was… plus she always mixed in a few stories about the first time he did magic ("You were only three years old! Draco said that it was my clumsiness, but I swear that you were the one who made me drop the glass!"), or the first time he rode a broom ("Draco had to go up and get you, you were going so high!"). After five years of the same thing, Scorpius had become desensitized, but not wholly apathetic.
This year, with the added complication of her worry for his safety and the safety of his new lycanthropic secret, he wondered if his father would ever be able to calm her down.
He rubbed his now-throbbing temples as he walked down one of many long corridors in his home, winding his way through the great maze to his bedroom.
"—shouldn't you have knocked or something?" The sound of a hushed voice in the entrance hall caused Scorpius to stop in his tracks and listen.
"Did you see a doorbell, Rosie?" An agitated voice asked.
"Well, no, but—"
"Malfoy?" The man's voice called.
Scorpius recognized easily that these two were Ron and Rose Weasley.
He stepped into the foyer, catching sight of the pair. Ron, his vivid red hair looking rather unsaturated, stood tense and rigid, his lanky arms crossed over his chest, glaring at some suit of armor to his right. Rose stood a few feet behind him, casually, hands clasped behind her back, her caramel-colored eyes shining in awe as she gazed around the picturesque house.
Feeling the slightest bit awkward, Scorpius cleared his throat loudly.
Sullen, Ron looked over to the boy. "Hello, Scorpius," He said with strained politeness.
"Hello, Mr. Weasley." He nodded cordially towards the man, "Rose," He repeated the gesture towards the sixteen-year-old girl.
Rose smiled softly, if a little nervously, and said, "Hello, Scorpius."
"I'll go get my father," He declared, inwardly proud to take charge of the situation.
When Ron nodded, Scorpius turned on his heel and walked back down the same hallway from which he came, pointedly ignoring the haughty stares and protests of "Blood traitors in my home?" from his ancestors' endowed portraits.
Coming upon the kitchen once more, Scorpius's ears were met the sound of shaky breaths and reassuring "shh"s. Pausing for a moment before acting, he walked through the doorway, rapping his knuckles quietly on the frame.
"Dad?"
Draco's head turned from where he stood, in the exact same position he and his wife were when their son left.
"Mr. Weasley and Rose are here."
His brows knitted together, an unpleasant look appearing on his face. "Rose Weasley? Why is she here?"
"I thought you would know." Scorpius's eyebrows rose with slight skepticism.
The older man sighed deeply, as if the entire situation was a horrible bother to him, and whispered something to his wife.
Astoria nodded at whatever he said, and Draco moved away from her, sauntering down the hallway, his son two steps behind.
"Weasley," He said commandingly, reaching the entrance hall.
"Malfoy," Ron seemed equally pleased to see the other man.
"Can we chat for a moment?" He asked, malevolence evident in his voice.
"Certainly," Ron replied just as venomously, walking over to the mouth of the hallway where the identical Malfoys stood.
"Why is your daughter here?" Draco whispered furiously.
"There was no one to take her to King's Cross," Ron explained just as quietly.
"Why couldn't you get Granger or Potter to do it?"
"Hermione and Harry are trying Fenrir Greyback today, Malfoy; I thought you of all people would remember that."
Draco's eyebrows shot up towards his receding hairline. The nerve of that man! "Weasley, you—"
"Dad," Scorpius butted in, preventing a brewing fight from forming.
Both men's heads snapped towards the boy that neither were aware was still there.
"Can we just go?" The pounding in his temples was more evident than ever.
The crease between Draco's eyebrows smoothed out, and he nodded solemnly.
The three walked out from the hall, none in high spirits.
Rose was still standing in the same spot, looking awkward, but still borderline-amazed with the splendor of Malfoy Manor. Noticing that her father was back, she glanced at a large clock near the entrance. "Dad, the train leaves in less than half an hour."
"Well, since Scorpius has to get to King's Cross as well, why don't I just drive you both?" Ron suggested casually.
Draco was about to insult Ron's intelligence, reminding him that that was the entire reason he was there, but a pointed look from the other man at Rose made him remember that she was still there, and wasn't supposed to know the details of their meeting. "If it wouldn't be too much of a bother,"
"No bother at all," The oiliness of Ron's voice was almost a dead-giveaway; somehow, Rose didn't notice.
"We can have a House-Elf go get your trunk…" Draco looked around briefly, as if expecting one of the creatures to pop into his line of sight. "Where's Mitzi?"
"No need, Father," He pulled out his wand from where it was hazardously located in the back pocket of his dark jeans. A look of deep focus overtook his features.
Rose and Ron both looked at him, rather confused but curious as to what he was doing.
When a sleek, black dragon-hide, trunk came zooming in through a doorway at the east of the room, it became evident that he had used a wordless Accio spell.
Rose was impressed: they weren't supposed to learn silent incantations until later that year. Ron looked slightly fascinated as well, but more outraged.
"You're still underage!" Ron scolded the boy, who was now holding the heavy luggage in one hand is if it weighed nothing. "I could get you in trouble for that," He stated, his ears burning.
Scorpius looked as if he was fighting a smirk by the way the left corner of his mouth was subtly raising higher every second. "Sorry, I forgot," He said coolly.
Ron rolled his eyes at the boy before muttering, "Cheeky teenager,"
Draco snorted in amusement.
Rose, much to Ron's reproach, smiled shyly at the boy's pretentious behavior and smug half-smile.
Sure, Scorpius was showing off a bit, what with an inaudible Summoning Charm in front of an Auror when he was a year from being legal, but he was a sixteen year old boy… what else was expected of him?
"I'll tell Astoria we're leaving," Draco said, and vanished from the room with a small pop!
In a matter of a few silent seconds, before anyone really knew what was going on, there were two sequential pops!, and a woman launching herself across the room at her son.
Surprisingly prepared for what was happening after realizing it was his mother, Scorpius swiftly set down his trunk and caught his mother in her rib-crushing embrace.
Not at all embarrassed at her behavior, despite Ron and Rose's stares, he patted his teary mother on the back, vaguely wondering when he'd gotten taller than her.
"Oh, Scorpius, Sixth Year already!" She wailed into his shoulder, which was double-insulated with his deep navy turtleneck and unbuttoned black button-up. He planned to change on the train, like everyone else.
He rolled his eyes, smiling, and prepared himself for the ensuing waterworks.
"I remem-ember the f-first time y-you walked, and, and you were s-so small, and now you-you're so bi-big, and—" She buried her face in his neck, making the next words she said muffled and completely inarticulate blubbering noises to anyone but her.
"I know, I know," Scorpius said, patting her again. "But I have to go now, or else I'll miss the train,"
Astoria backed a small ways away. Her skin was blotched with red, streaked with moisture. "Okay," She said, wiping her face. "Be safe, alright? And have fun!"
"I will, don't worry." He pecked her quickly on the cheek. Picking up his trunk again, he said, "Bye, Mum, I love you."
"Bye, Scorpius, I love you, too!"
He smiled at her, and followed Ron out the door.
Rose followed him, leaving the elder Malfoy inside to comfort his wife a little longer. She quickly fell into step with her classmate. "Is she always like that?" She asked amusedly.
He smiled affectionately. "Every year."
A smile spread across Rose's face. "And I thought my mum was being dramatic when she asked me to write her as soon as I got to school this morning…"
"Rose?" Ron called behind him.
She shot another smile at Scorpius before hurrying up to walk beside her father. "Yeah, Dad?"
"Did you see where I parked?" He asked sheepishly.
Rose giggled. "Over there, you see?" She pointed to a point to a general left.
Ron nodded, seeing the car.
"Weasley, what's taking so long?" Draco called from a few meters behind his son.
Ron looked strained again. "Are you kidding me, Malfoy? We've only been walking for a minute at most!"
"Why couldn't we just Apparate?"
Ron thrust his thumbs towards the teenagers, who were again walking near each other. "Sixteen," He replied simply.
Draco groaned dramatically.
Rose tried unsuccessfully to fight a smile.
"The car is right up there, Malfoy. Just wait."
With another sigh, Draco continued walking.
Rose grinned at the two men's bickering. As subtly as possible, she stole a glance at Scorpius.
It only made her smile more to see him doing the same. Her cheeks tinting pink, she, not for the first time, was equal in enlightenment with the girls at school: he really was beautiful in the truest sense of the word.
"Is that you car, Weasley?"
"Yes, Malfoy, this is my car." The older redhead replied through gritted teeth.
"But… it's tiny! And it looks like it'll fall apart at any moment." Draco crossed his arms and looked at the vehicle with contempt. Every word he said was a complete hyperbole; though the car wasn't a brand-new Corvette, it was still in good condition.
"It runs fine." Ron was seriously regretting his career choice; Harry was going to get an earful back at the office.
Rose fought back another smile.
Her father wrenched the car door open with unnecessary force, and fell unceremoniously into the seat.
The blond man reached out to touch the handle, but retracted his hand quickly, as if afraid of getting burned by it. Scorpius withheld a snort at his father's inflated actions, and resigned to opening the door for him.
His father murmured a "thank you", and delicately sat down in the seat. He shifted around uncomfortably for a significantly long time.
On his way around the car to the opposite door, Scorpius caught the handle before Rose had a chance to, and pulled the door open fully before continued around.
She smiled briefly, taking a final glance at the handsome manor before climbing into the car, slamming the door shut behind her.
Scorpius was already in when she got seated, his seatbelt fastened, his long legs cautiously bent so his knees didn't stab into the back of Ron's seat.
"How do you work this bloody thing?" Malfoy muttered to himself, touching the buckle, the actual belt part stretching and pulling back repeatedly enough to make it lock. "Weasley, your car is broken." He announced with pompous finality.
Ron sighed in annoyance, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.
Scorpius rolled his eyes and shifted forward in his seat, taking the buckle from his confused father's hand. He adjusted it to where it crossed his chest properly, and fastened it in place.
"How do you know this?" Draco crossed his arms grumpily.
"I took Muggle Studies in Third Year, remember?"
Draco muttered something that the three weren't sure was a negative or affirmative.
Looking in the rearview mirror to make sure both students' trunks were neatly tucked into the back seat, he turned the key in the ignition, and the car rumbled into life.
"Whoa, hang on a minute!" Draco yelled, causing everyone to wince in surprise, groping for anything stable to hold onto.
"What?" Ron demanded.
"What the bloody hell is that noise?" His eyes were wide as Quaffles, his face drained of all color.
"It's just the car, Dad, calm down."
"Is it supposed to sound like a dragon?!" Draco exaggerated.
"Yes." The other man responded, opting for the least words possible.
"Merlin, help us now."
"Dad," Scorpius sighed wearily.
"Malfoy, I'm going to go now, so our kids don't miss the train, okay?" Ron didn't want anymore outbursts: driving already made him nervous enough.
Draco took a few steadying breaths, and was still holding onto the edges of the seat so tightly that his hands ached. He did not trust Weasley in some kind of metal monstrosity with his son's life in his hands.
Ron eased forward. A quick look towards his old school rival told Ron that he wasn't going to say anything, so he started gradually speeding up, eventually finding himself back on the road.
The drive was generally uneventful, save for a few more of Draco's outbursts ("Weasley, slow down, you're going to run into that Muggle!" "Malfoy, I'm thirty meters away, shut up!"), a few more giggles from Rose at their attitudes toward each other, and a few rare full-grins from Scorpius, who was more happy to know he was going back to school than anything.
King's Cross was bustling as usual on September first, full of young witches and wizards who were getting stares from Muggles who'd never seen the station so packed on a Thursday morning.
After Draco swearing that the seatbelt was trying to strangle him, and a few heaves of heavy trunks, the four were strolling through the first place they'd been all day where they were all comfortable.
As always, Rose immediately began scoping out the station for the Potters, to no avail. She hurried the men to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, where she didn't hesitate to go first through the pillar. After her, Scorpius fell through, then Ron, and lastly, Draco. Ron was staying close to Scorpius to observe his behavior, and ever-vigilant to any of the most minor changes in demeanor. After all, that was the point of his suffering through a car ride with Draco Malfoy.
As far as he could tell, Scorpius was being completely normal.
He also felt completely normal. He had been worried that he might think more animalistic or cruel thoughts with so many humans around him at once, but he in fact felt no different towards the thousand students than he had in the five previous years. He did notice, however, that everything was a little louder, voices he recognized as being across the station sounding as if they were spoken right in his ear, and smelled a little more pungent to him, perfumes and body-odor all mixing into an undeniably human smell. It was nothing to fret over, he decided bitterly, it was just another taunting reminder that he was no longer completely human.
"Lily!" Rose called across the station to her cousin, whose dark-red head was bobbing out of a group of what looked like other Fourth Years.
"Rosie!" Lily waved, somewhat maniacally.
Rose looked expectantly at her father.
He rolled his eyes as if to say, "Go ahead".
"Bye, Daddy," She chirped, pecking his cheek. Backing up, she smiled at the two Malfoys. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Malfoy. I'll see you at school, Scorpius." With those two polite comments, she jogged over to her cousin.
"I think you're okay to go now, too, Scorpius," Ron said when his daughter was out of earshot.
"I am? That's it?" He looked surprised at the lack of questioning, scrutinizing, or anything really.
"You seem to be stable, still. Tell me, do you feel the need to bite anyone here right now?" Ron asked, slightly mocking.
"No, not particularly," Scorpius shot the older man a grin.
"Good. Well, that's about it, then." Ron shrugged good-naturedly.
"Are you sure you'll be all right on the tenth?" Draco asked, looking grave.
"Yes, I'll be fine; don't worry about me," He shrugged, understanding instantly what his father's issue with the certain date was.
The older man's face was suddenly conflicted. "Stay safe, then,"
Scorpius nodded. He walked forward, gave his father a one-armed hug, waved and thanked Mr. Weasley, and wound his way through the crowd to board his favorite scarlet steam engine.
There were already most students on the train, running up and down the halls, talking loudly across the compartments, and being all-around playful eleven-through-seventeen-year-olds.
He dodged a bunch of rowdy Second Years in order to get into the Prefects' compartment. Just like the year before, he slid open the door and told the Head Boy and Girl he was there. Once they told him something about a shift that he could hardly hear over a combination of boisterous students and blood rushing in his ears, he nodded and backed out of the wonderfully claustrophobia-inducing space.
He looked for an empty compartment, so he could sit in solitary and read whilst the bubbling electricity hadn't taken over his ability to focus.
It always amused him to walk the length of the steam engine and look at all the different temporary inhabitants. There were First Years who looked like they were about to be sick; there were broody, confrontational Slytherins; there were annoying girls who giggled and sighed as he passed; there was always one compartment jam-packed with the Weasley and Potter clan.
Scorpius swore that one of them (most likely James) must've magically enlarged the space in previous years; there was no way all of them could fit in one, seemingly, so comfortably. At any given time, there were around twelve kids, including, as of late, Al's Slytherin best friend, Beau Zabini, in a six-person-at-most section of the train.
They always seemed to be in near-hysterics when he looked at them. Rose huddled between Albus Severus and Lily Potter on the far side of the room, the girls' faces rivaling their hair in lack of breath, laughing at something Al and Beau were animatedly explaining.
There were a few other Weasleys looking in on the prank, including the infamous prankster Fred and his more timid cousin, Dominique. The youngest of the group, including Louis and Hugo, were looking rather terrified, while the older or less easily amused ones, most pointedly James Potter, were chatting with everyone else comfortably.
Scorpius smiled at their overall-joyful family atmosphere, finding himself stalling, watching the cluster with a feeling of envy.
After half a second longer of watching them, he stalked on, continuing his search for an empty compartment.
Rose wiped the moisture away from her eyes, her cheeks and stomach sore from laughing so hard at her favorite cousin.
She glanced towards the door of the compartment to see a flash of shiny platinum hair pacing down the hall. If she hadn't already been smiling, she would have smiled even larger.
Seeing him suddenly made her remember something.
"Al, what time is it?" She asked suddenly.
He shook out his watch from underneath the sleeve of his cobalt sweater, pushing it towards her.
She cursed under her breath, and sprung up from underneath a rather startled Lily. "Prefect duty," She cleared up swiftly, and sprinted down the corridor to the Heads' Compartment.
She puffed out a "sorry" for being late, and then went right back out into the hallway, walking tediously slowly, scouting out troublemakers—but conveniently skipping over her family's compartment, where a Silencing Charm was cast to keep their roaring laughter from being heard.
Rose rolled her eyes, thinking of how much trouble they would get in if it weren't for her.
She was the only one who was patrolling, and all of the rowdiness had mostly died down after the first few hours, so it was a generally boring forty-five minutes of constant walking.
Somewhere near the back, she spotted Scorpius. He was sitting alone, a Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook in front of his focused eyes, complete with a slightly furrowed blonde brow.
Rose hated to see people sitting alone on the train when there were so many other people who could keep him company. Smiling a little to herself, she walked more hurriedly back to the Heads' Compartment, where she said she was finished, and then to her family's section.
She reached over their heads to reach her trunk. Snapping the clasps open while it still rested on the overhead rack, she pulled out the first book she found, which happened to be the Standard Book of Spells for her Year.
At Al and Lily's questioning stares, she hastily said something about going somewhere "more quiet" so she could study the text. They rolled their eyes, looking somewhat disappointed, but still let her go peacefully.
She couldn't explain the nervous feeling she had as she hustled to the back of the train; she identified it as the same one she had when she was first walking up to his house that same morning.
Biting her lip, she wasn't sure whether or not to knock on the glass first. Deciding she was over-thinking irrelevant things, she cautiously slid the glass open.
Scorpius looked up from the words on the page when he heard a sudden noise.
It was Rose Weasley, looking rather uneasy, with a textbook in her left hand, the right one still on the doorframe.
"Hi, Scorpius," She said, avoiding his eyes.
"Hello," He responded politely.
"Are you sitting alone?" She asked.
Obviously, he thought, and suppressed a smirk. "Yes," he decided to answer.
"Can I sit here, then? I wanted to read my text," She felt blood rushing up to her cheeks.
"Yeah, it's fine," He shrugged, and shifted in his seat, pulling his legs up on the seat, reclining against the windowpane more comfortably.
"Thanks," She smiled warmly, and took the seat across from him, also resting her legs on the seat, leaning back against the cool window.
Scorpius tried going back to reading, but found that he couldn't. He knew it was mostly because he was at the point where he was too excited about school to concentrate on printed words, but he also knew that this wasn't the entire reason.
He chanced a quick glance at the girl who was now intently reading her own book.
She was very pretty, he wasn't blind enough to ignore that, with short, wavy auburn hair, brown eyes that were more expressive than of a bore, but one with bright yellow and orange mixed in to make an overall nice shade of amber, and clear, light skin dotted with a few light freckles on her nose. She was slim, but not stick-thin like her cousin, Lily, with actual curves that were hard not to observe… in a good way.
Apart from being pretty, she was smart, one of the top in their class, and very nice. Scorpius remembered one incident where, from the opposite end of the hallway, she preformed a Jelly-Legs Jinx on someone who had just jinxed him, and then ran to get a teacher to do a counter-jinx. It was little things like that caused Scorpius to always respect the girl… even if her family could be very annoying sometimes.
Family. Seeing her and her relatives interacting the way they did made him wish he could have brothers and sisters of his own, as well as his own children one day, so they could remember times like the ride to Hogwarts as some of the most fun of their lives…
… then he remembered that he couldn't have a family.
The bloody lycanthropy was ruining him a little more every time he remembered it. He wondered, heavy ice filling the pit of his stomach, why he didn't recall the paragraph from the Defense book earlier: the one that quite plainly stated, "Lycanthropy can be hereditary, so it is ill-advised for werewolves to reproduce."
His jaw clenched as he fought back the sudden itch behind his eyelids. He should've realized this at a more appropriate time, not when he was sitting in the company of a girl he hardly knew.
It wasn't even that big of a deal, just yet another piece of his future that was chiseled away.
He pushed the malevolent thoughts out of his head, and decided instead to distract himself with thoughts of the castle, his home.
He forced himself to focus on the most bland, uninteresting thoughts to block out ones of his affliction. He already had to live with it; he didn't want to have to think about it, too.
Scorpius looked back towards Rose, hoping that she would assist in getting his mind off more unpleasant things…
Usually, it would annoy him to have someone in there with him. Put the fault on his preference to be alone, but even having someone completely silent, but in the same room as him, would usually bite at his nerves until he either left, or asked them to leave.
But with her, he felt content. He rather hastily blamed the lycanthropy.
Scorpius scowled. She didn't help him get his mind off his wolfishness after all. In fact, she made him resent it even more. Bloody Weasley…
But still, he forced himself to remember, school is less than an hour away. Everything will be fine once you get to school. More than fine. He grinned to himself, foreshadowing he was putting on his school wear feeling more like a jinx than anything else.
School will be brilliant.
A/N: So, when I put on my profile (for those who might've seen it) that I lost some of my writing, I was talking about this chapter. About ten pages were already typed up, and I was all hyped and ready to keep writing after my A/S oneshot… only to realize that my flash drive wasn't working. I lost the entire chapter, and had to restart. I was rather unhappy about it. (I cried. Ask my brother.)
Professor Scamander? Luna, anyone? I'm so sneaky. :D
Who else can totally picture Draco freaking out if he got in a car?
Exposition… it will be the death of me X(
I love my reviewers. They make me feel so warm and fuzzy. :D
So, in order to make me love you too, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEreview! I prefer novels detailing every unimportant, nit-picky thing about this, but a one word "good" or "cute" is enough to get me writing some more!
Never too late to put it on Story Alert!
Hogwarts next chapter! And Quidditch! And injuries! Yay!
Talk to you in two weeks!
KitKat Pyrophobia