So, guess whose computer decided to shit itself approximately one week after I posted the last chapter? This guy. So I have been having a bit of a meltdown while I tried to salvage what I could of my literally hundreds of documents that were almost lost to the aether. Good news - my techie friends came to my rescue (thank the heavens I actually backed up my comp every once in a while). Morale of the story - support and love your techie friends and always backup your computer somewhere. Also RIP to my old laptop; we had a lot of good times together. Everything I've ever posted to this website was written on that thing. I will treasure our memories.
Anyways, here's the next chapter. This was incredibly fun to write. Draco is very OOC, but I like to imagine this is a post-extensive-therapy, post-death-of-Lucius, post-teen-angst Draco that just became a big ole sass pot. You probably won't be seeing much of Albus as my staple side character, but you will get some more Draco. So yeah, that's your consolation prize.
Thanks to all those who have favourited/followed/reviewed. The reviews in particularly really brighten my spirits, so thanks heaps. Anyways, lets get to the good stuff.
Chapter 3: Birds of a Feather Flock Together
Scorpius sent an owl to Headmaster Longbottom when he had finished having a brief panic attack in which he stared at his spoiled underwear with disdain before dry retching into the toilet. He advised in his brief letter that he was taking a 'personal day' and would likely return to work tomorrow.
Hopefully twenty-four hours would be enough to get this all under control.
He'd always thought the term 'personal day' was a bit wankery. Is any day not personal? How does one experience a day without it being personal? It simply made no sense. Thoughts about the title aside, Scorpius was taking a personal day to try to sort out what the fuck he was going to do about this absolutely colossal disaster currently unfolding in his hormone-riddled brain. His night had been plagued by images of Rose in various states of pleasure, usually with Scorpius lying in the cradle of her thighs, his face brightly painted with his own euphoria. The feel of her skin was so tangible beneath his skin he struggled to believe it was only a dream. The entire night had been filled with a lightness he'd never known. He'd felt warm and complete when he woke.
It made him sick.
He had tried to reconcile that these dreams were not signs that Rose was his mate. Perhaps, he pondered, his veela was just a really horny bugger (they were sexual creatures, after all) and recognised that Rose was the only female of a similar age to him within the immediate vicinity. Her fertility and proximity was inspiring his invasive visions, nothing more sinister and permanent. Scorpius figured it was probably just as likely for him to dream of someone different if he were to stay some place else where he was more surrounded by females in their twenties. It wasn't Rose, it was just her demographic that had him dreaming of her. That was it.
Of course, that didn't explain that Amortentia debacle. But he was doing what any healthy adult would do when faced with information he couldn't quite reconcile – he ignored it.
Reason for the visions and smells aside, he needed to get himself under control before he was ready to stand before a bunch of hormone-riddled idiot teenagers that were going to batter him with inane questions about potions he could do in his sleep. He needed to find a way to regulate his emotions and hormones until he could brew his potion full strength again. So he set out to the one place that was basically the temple for emotional suppression.
He went to the Manor.
Malfoy Manor was still as immaculate as ever, although it didn't seem quite as huge and imposing as it did when he was a child. The walk from the front gates to the entry seemed to take an age when he was six, running breathlessly from the albino peacocks that grazed and swayed through the gardens. He never trusted the creatures, not since one (which his mother had named Hector, and Scorpius had named Asshole) had tried to intimidate him with it's giant tail and almost chase him up a tree when he was five. When the day came that he eventually inherited this place, Scorpius was going to get rid of all of the blasted birds. Release them into the wild or something. Send them as sacrifices to dragons in Romania, he didn't care. All he was worried about was that his days of being haunted by ghost birds were over.
Thankfully, having arrived by floo, he was not required to run the gauntlet and best the feathered beasts this morning. Which was bloody lucky - he was barely managing to be civil to students in his duty of care in his current condition, he certainly wasn't going to be civil to his avian nemeses. And he simply had no desire to try and explain to his mother how three of her prized peacocks had found themselves turned into stone.
Maybe that's where his hatred of birds began? First albino peacocks, now inner sex-birds? Maybe he'd have some kind of dominance over the blasted peacocks now that he was part-bird himself. Maybe he'd try it some day. Not today, but some day.
The floo in the main entrance hall flared to life with his arrival, and Scorpius almost had to shield his eyes from the familiar bright white display he was met with. The entire room was polished marble and white paint - alabaster extravagance. He supposed other would find it quite stunning. For Scorpius it was just home.
He tripped as he exited the floo, and almost hit his head on the mantle in surprise when his father's voice carried down to him from the top of the open ornate staircase at the end of the room.
"Scorpius?" Draco assessed his son from head to toe, quite possibly looking for signs of spontaneous wing-growth or 'shiny-ness', his hand resting on the bannister as he continued his slow and graceful descent towards the entrance hall, "I wasn't expecting to see you today."
Which was polite-posh speak for 'what the fuck are you doing here uninvited?'.
"I've taken a personal day," Scorpius announced as he dusted some lingering floo powder from his shoulders, attempting to look as nonchalant as possible when every cell in his body felt like it was buzzing, "I need answers."
If he had to categorise his father's general demeanour, he'd name it 'concerned for my son's wellbeing' with a hint of 'I've birthed a mentally unsound spawn'. Which was probably a fair call.
"Answers to what?" The older man asked as he came to the bottom of the stairs, his footsteps creating crisp echoes throughout the space.
"My third year arithmancy homework," Scorpius deadpanned before snapping, "What do you think?! Honestly…"
He marched through the room in the general direction of his father's study. Situated next to the library and with an extensive collection of personal diaries kept by various members of his cursed family tree, Scorpius decided it would be the best place to begin his hunt for something resembling the truth that could assist him with his current predicament. His brisk footsteps echoed across the marble flooring just as his father's had, although where Draco's had been clipped and measured, Scorpius' sounded frantic and erratic. Merlin, even his footsteps were batshit insane. He heard his father, comparatively quietly, trailing after him as he kept a respectable distance from his slightly unhinged son. They walked (well, Draco walked, Scorpius marched) in silence to the study, thoughts racing through the younger man's head whilst his father retained his ever-present impassiveness.
His father entered the study a comfortable number of moments after Scorpius had stormed in, and found him frantically cataloguing the hundreds of books before him to try and figure out where to start. It was a somewhat pointless process.
"You should have tea first," Draco announced in a tone that bade no argument as he flicked his hand towards the corner of the room, summoning a self-making silver tea set. It levitated towards the armchair his father had gracefully reclined in, settling soundlessly onto the end table beside the chair.
"I don't want any tea," Scorpius responded as he shuffled back and forth along the bookshelf that took up the entire northerly wall of the room.
"To refuse would be quite impolite," Draco offered sternly as he carefully poured two cups.
"I'm your son – my impropriety is your own doing. Reap what you sew, father."
"Tea Scorpius."
He knew that tone. And even at over a quarter century old Scorpius Malfoy still regressed into a petulant child when it came out. His inner ten year old was cowering in fear. His inner sixteen year old instinctually wanted to rebel. His outer twenty-seven-year-old actually really wanted some tea.
He abandoned his perusal of the books in favour of joining Draco and the therapy-masquerading-as-tea. They managed to get through almost a whole two minutes of silence before his father spoke.
"You mother is having brunch with your Aunt Daphne in case you were wondering," Draco announced, clearly indicating that it was incredibly rude of Scorpius to not enquire as to his mother's whereabouts when he arrived. Scorpius did feel the slightest bit guilty about the social faux pass, not because it was considered rude in society circles, but just that he'd forgotten to even ask about his mum. He made a mental note to send her some flowers or something, just to make himself feel better.
Also because anyone who survived brunch with Aunt Daphne deserves some sort of prize to commend their god-like forgiveness of gross stupidity.
Scorpius nodded in acknowledgment as he reached for the perfectly brewed cup of tea, "Give her my best."
His father responded with a similarly despondent hum as he sipped his tea. They fell back into the silence Scorpius had become well accustomed to since his youth. He felt his leg bouncing with his poorly concealed anxiousness. He really didn't have time to be sitting here drinking tea. There was a tingle beneath his fingertips that, try as he might to convince himself otherwise, he strongly suspected was due to the increased distance between him and Weasley. Rather than encouraging him to return to her, as was probably it's intention, the unwelcome tremor simply spurred his desire to start reading every last book on these shelves that might offer him the slightest bit of insight into how to break this curse.
"So, these answers you're seeking…" his father paused meaningfully, obviously expecting Scorpius to fill the silence. He did not. Draco continued, "What's brought on the sudden desire to seek them out?"
Scorpius did not feel the need to tell his father the complete truth about the horrifying reality of who his mate likely was. If everything went to plan, that would be knowledge he would take to his grave.
"The half strength potion isn't working," was all he said as way of explanation, his knee still tapping incessantly, "I need to find some kind of substitute or – even better – break the bond."
The slight rattle of his father's cup hitting the saucer with an ounce more strength than necessary indicated Scorpius had given himself away. He said nothing, kept his eyes focused on the floor and very consciously not on his father.
"So you've felt it then?" when Scorpius did not respond Draco elaborated, "The bond?"
He felt an urge to bite the inside of his cheek and momentarily thought that his surfacing veela must be the most anxious being on the planet to be forcing him to be so outwardly jittery when he had almost mastered the act of concealing all his emotions in his twenty-seven years on the planet.
Stupid fucking veela.
"In a way," Scorpius shrugged, hopefully nonchalantly, "I feel constantly…irritated."
His father raised an eyebrow in silent judgment. Scorpius rolled his eyes, "More so than usual," he amended.
Draco was not satisfied with his answer, "It's unusual for you to be impacted so significantly so quickly if you don't know who your mate is."
There was a hint of judgment in his father's tone, like he was trying to catch him out in a lie. Which Scorpius resented – it wasn't like he was some twelve year old pre-pubescent child who had broken an intricate vase and tried to cover it up poorly by blaming it on a non-existent cat. He was a grown adult.
And as a grown adult, his father should have more faith in him and had absolutely no right to call him on his lie.
"How would you know?" Scorpius snapped much too defensively not to be seen through, "I thought you said you didn't know of this occurring before?"
There was an almost imperceivable twitch of his father's eyebrow that indicated Scorpius' lies were not flying with Draco. He really shouldn't be surprised – he was unhinged, he couldn't be expected to give a convincing lie when he was like this. Plus he'd already committed a multitude of faux passes since his arrival so he was already being watched like a hawk.
"I had to study veelas quite extensively when it became apparent I'd engendered one," his father was matching his sarcasm in spades. Scorpius had the sinking feeling he would be out-matched, "You may be the first to have this particular predicament with the Monkshood, but you're certainly not the first to feel the pull of their mate calling to them."
"I wouldn't say my mate is calling me," Scorpius defended, glaring at the carpet as he thought of Weasley and her bushy hair and shrieking voice and all her bloody portkeys (his glare only intensified when he felt the warmth pooling in his stomach and moving south just at the thought of her yelling at him. Bloody Hell), "More like tormenting me and plotting my demise."
There was a shift in the atmosphere and Scorpius wished he could pull the words back out of existence. His father tensed - Draco read him like a book, always had, and for a terrifying minute Scorpius considered the horrifying prospect that his father might actually be able to surmise that Rose Bloody Weasley was probably his mate.
Then Scorpius remembered that the notion was preposterous - he could hardly believe it himself and it was his veela. There was no way his father would ever suspect his arch-nemesis was the object of his veela's desires.
After several long minutes of silence, Draco spoke.
"It's the Weasley girl isn't it?"
Merlin as his witness, Scorpius almost did a spit-take.
"What? How-" Scorpius caught himself before he spat anything else out he might regret, "…why would you assume that?"
Draco shrugged, "I've always had a feeling."
Scorpius would argue that this was technically true – his father did, in fact, have one singular feeling and it was 'indifference'. So lest the man had suddenly 'caught the feelings' like some kind of abhorrent airborne disease, Scorpius outright refused to believe his father's bold claim of 'having a feeling' about him and Rose being destined to be together.
"You can't possibly be serious," he responded with strong undertones of rage.
Draco raised one very judgmental eyebrow at him and smiled in a way that Scorpius found to be painfully condescending. "You've been mildly obsessed with her for years, Scorpius."
"That is not true." He folded in on himself, crossing his arms and sinking down in his chair. If he was feeling slightly more self-reflective, Scorpius could probably recognise he was doing a very good impersonation of his angsty sixteen-year-old self. His father had the absolute audacity to laugh at him.
"She was all you used to talk about when you came back for break," Draco's voice took on an exaggerated nasal tone that Scorpius did not appreciate, "'Weasley got this on her O.W.L.s'. 'Weasley is so annoying'. 'Weasley copped a bludger to the face – it was hilarious'. I always knew more about Rose Weasley than I ever did about the people you claimed to actually like."
Scorpius glared at the older man and seriously considered whether throwing a tome at his father's face would get him dis-inherited. Surely his mother would understand; she's lived with the man for thirty years, she'd get it. She'd make sure Scorpius was still in the will.
"I've not been obsessed with Rose," Scorpius turned up his nose, "I was antagonised by her. I still am in fact."
His father scoffed. SCOFFED. Did he not care about his offspring's pain?!
"What does that mean?" Scorpius demanded indignantly.
"It's hardly antagonistic, Scorpius," his father responded, sipping his tea contemplatively, "Your mother always thought it was your way of flirting."
This kind of behaviour from his father was understandable but his mother?! Maybe he wouldn't send her flowers after all. What had he ever done to warrant this gross betrayal by the woman who birthed him?!
"I DO NOT FLIRT WITH ROSE WEASLEY."
"Yet."
"EVER."
"You're telling me you don't enjoy it?" Draco smirked at him over his teacup as he raised it to his lips and Scorpius suddenly understood why Rose punched him so often - being on the receiving end of that look was causing his blood to boil.
"What?" He demanded clarification.
"The banter."
They didn't banter; they argued.
"I like causing her emotional distress and knocking her off her pedestal."
If he had not looked away from his father at that exact moment, he may have caught the older man roll his eyes at him. "And how often does Rose appear genuinely hurt by your comments?"
Almost never these days. It was infuriating. To avoid voicing the truth, Scorpius stayed silent which was, regrettably, an answer in itself. His father continued.
"And when was the last time she said something that genuinely got under your skin?"
"Yesterday," Scorpius fired back without a second thought. Everything she said got under his skin, seeped into his bones, made him uneasy. It took him a few very long moments to realise that's probably not what his father meant. He tried to remember the last time Rose had said something that hurt him. They did argue, incessantly in fact, but, despite what he had just claimed, he was hard pressed to think of the last time he actually engaged her with the intent to cause her emotional distress. He liked seeing her angry, but that was because it felt like a victory; every time Rose got flustered, stormed off, yelled at him, every time he was able to crack through her defences and get a rise out of her felt like he was winning some battle they never consciously acknowledged they were fighting. And he did so like winning.
Scorpius thought of them being locked away in the supply room in the potions room, firing insults back and forth and how his blood raced and his heart pounded at the electricity between them. He thought about the way he sought her out just to fight, not because he wanted to inflict pain on her, but because he enjoyed it.
But that was just…circumstantial. Nothing more.
Draco, sensing his son was losing an internal war, asked another, seemingly unrelated, question."Scorpius, why did you take the job at Hogwarts?"
"It pays well and I like brewing potions," he shrugged and looked into his drastically cooling tea.
"Bullshit." Scorpius choked on his tongue. He'd never heard his father speak to him like that. He looked for any signs of the Imperius Curse as his father continued talking, "You could be earning three times the amount you are now working for any number of highly respected labs the world over. Try again."
Scorpius momentarily contemplated setting the bookcase on fire to avoid this conversation. He had a gut feeling it wasn't going to go well for him. "It keeps me close to home."
Draco's response was rapid-fire, "The floo network renders distance irrelevant."
"I think this whole conversation is irrelevant," Scorpius muttered in response.
There was a beat of silence, a very brief momentary pause before his father made a small observation in a tone that indicated he knew it's significance.
"Rose got the job at Hogwarts before you didn't she?"
Scorpius clenched his jaw so tight he almost pulled a muscle.
"We were employed at roughly the same time," the words were forced out through gritted teeth.
"The way I remember it," Draco started, condescension marinating his words, "you weren't going to accept the position; said you hated children and idiots alike, and working with idiotic children was a recipe for disaster."
Scorpius sometimes pondered whether he was actually a prophet, come to deliver the Lord's word to the masses given his speeches were so inspiring and accurate.
"And then you suddenly changed your mind," Draco's voice interrupted Scorpius' inner musing about a temple dedicated to himself, "Told me that 'despite the fact Rose Weasley just got a position there' you were going to take it."
"Maybe I just wanted another opportunity to beat her?" Which was a totally credible and entirely plausible answer.
"By what? Making more children cry than she does?"
Scorpius had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from madly exclaiming that that wasn't even a competition – Scorpius easily made three times the amount of students cry that Rose did. Rose was insistent on drowning them with empathy and support. It was nauseating.
"So I made a mistake," he said instead, defensively, "Everyone makes mistakes."
His father's response was annoyingly measured, "If you hated working there you would have left by now."
"Just what are you implying?!" Scorpius snapped, standing and marching towards the bookcase as if he had suddenly remembered the purpose of his visit was not to be lectured on love by one of the most emotionally stunted men in all of England.
"I think the reason you took the job is the same reason why you've stayed for so long," there was a long pause and if Draco claimed it was for anything other than dramatic effect Scorpius would call him a liar, "To be closer to Rose."
"That's ridiculous!" Scorpius threw over his shoulder as he started pulling books from the shelf at random, incapable of reading and processing when he was being distracted by such an infuriating conversation.
"I'm not saying you've been doing it on purpose," Draco levelled, talking to his tea cup as he analysed the situation, "In fact I am sure it was mostly subconscious. I'd say your veela had a lot to do with the decision."
Scorpius dropped all the books he suspected might have useful information in them onto the floor loudly.
"My veela has been buried for the past 14 years," Drop, drop, drop, SLAM SLAM SLAM, "It had nothing to do with anything."
"The suppressant is not a cure," Draco slowed his speech until he sounded like he was talking to a small child. It was not appreciated, "It's not like you amputated it when you were 13 and it's suddenly grown back."
"Well it sure feels like it," Scorpius grumbled as he tossed more books onto the floor.
"It's a part of you Scorpius, you can't just silence it and think that will cease its existence."
"I'd very much like to try."
Draco was silent for several long, agonising moments. Scorpius knew he was waiting for him to confess his sins, as it were, and expected him to suddenly word vomit all his internalised anguish. It would appear his father underestimated just how similar the two were – Scorpius had stubbornness in spades. He would not speak until spoken to.
Draco rose, leaving him to stew in silence further, as he went to the decanter of Firewhiskey on the side table, cup of tea in hand. Draco placed the tea on the table before promptly pouring what was quite frankly a scandalous amount of alcohol into his cup, considering it was only 10:30 in the morning. His father looked at his tea contemplatively as he stirred it, the sound of the spoon against the porcelain edges of the teacup audible in the suddenly silent room.
Scorpius heard his father's deep inhaling and subconsciously braced for the impact of his forthcoming statement.
"It would not be the worst thing, perhaps," Draco said a little hesitantly, "For you and Rose to be, well, mated."
He almost vomited in his mouth.
"I beg your pardon?" Scorpius spun quickly, incredulous that his father – Draco Malfoy – would suggest that such a thing was anything but disastrous, "We've been enemies since we met!"
"You've challenged each other," he shrugged in a deliberately subtle manner, "That's not necessarily a bad thing."
"Challenge?" The word was almost venom in his mouth, "I don't think we've ever engaged in a civil conversation in our lives. How am I supposed to be madly in love with someone when all we do is hurl insults at each other?"
Using the term 'madly in love' when referring to Rose Weasley was almost enough to give him an aneurysm.
"Mates aren't always who we expect," Draco's tone was measured and his volume was a completely acceptable level for the small, intimate setting. Scorpius, by comparison, was shouting like a mad man.
"How would you know? You don't have this thing living inside your head!"
"You can't choose who you fall in love with Scorpius – that's the same for everyone."
"You fell in love with mother, she's not exactly the bane of your existence now is she?"
His father gave a small nod, acknowledging his son's point before continuing.
"You aren't even giving Rose a chance."
"She never gave me one!" And yes, sure, that statement sounded a touch childish; it appeared he was reverting to old mannerisms when being lectured.
"Well maybe this is a chance for you to be the bigger man."
Champion limbo submarine captain came out to perform his award-winning routine of slithering under any bar that was set for him, no matter how low.
"I don't want to be the bigger man. I am perfectly happy being the totally average sized man that I am currently."
"You're letting your fear control you."
"This isn't fear!" His exasperation was quickly descending into anger, "This is a genetic defect fucking up my mind!"
"You're afraid of her."
When she was angry and armed with a wand and far from prying eyes of their supervisors? Yes, he would be terrified of her. But the visions that had been plaguing his sleep were hardly threatening to his person. This wasn't fear; it was annoyance.
"Then why am I dreaming about her? Hmmm?" He was far too angry to stop himself from sounding hysterical. So much for coming to the manor to stop himself getting emotional, "Why was she in my mind all goddam night if I'm so fucking terrified of her? Am I afraid of her or do I love her – pick one father!"
"Who said they were mutually exclusive?"
His father was fucking stupid, just like his goddam veela.
"Because it makes no fucking sense otherwise."
"With your veela-"
"Stop talking about my veela!" Scorpius screamed, his last nerve snapping, "It's threatened to do nothing but hold me back all my life and I just want it gone!"
Draco compensated for his son's total lack of control by pausing and allowing him to cool down for a few moments. Scorpius dragged his hand through his hair and tried to calm the itching under his skin that had been slowly intensifying as talk of Rose continued.
"See," Scorpius murmured, embarrassment coating his tone, "I told you I was more irritated than usual."
Draco hummed in agreement before downing the rest of his tea-Firewhiskey cocktail and coming to help Scorpius pick up all the books he'd thrown from the bookshelf. Scorpius fell onto one of the lounges in the study, suddenly exhausted as his head began throbbing. It was like he was getting the flu. Despite the outburst and his obvious discomfort with the conversation, his father seemed intent on continuing it.
"Being a veela is who you are, Scorpius, and who you are recognises Rose Weasley as your mate."
Scorpius let out a groan, "No. I. Don't.I don't even like her!"
"No I'd say what you feel is far stronger than 'like'."
"Yes, hatred is significantly more potent," Scorpius was scowling at his father now, who had begun a slow and disinterested perusal of the bookshelf in front of him, the books previously strewn on the carpet now neatly stacked on an end table.
"Scorpius…"
"No! You don't get a say in this," he was pointing at his father now, just in case Draco was unclear he was the cause of his son's ire, "It has been made painfully clear to me since I was a child that Weasleys and Potters were to be avoided. You can't turn around now and tell me that I need to 'give Rose a chance' just because I've run out of that damn potion. Once I'm able to start brewing a full potion I'll be able to forget about this whole thing."
Draco at least seemed to concede the point briefly. Right before he continued being a right prat.
"Not if she's your mate."
If he had progressed further in his encroaching veela transformation, Scorpius was very sure he would have squawked right in his father's stupid face.
"Especially if she's my mate. This stupid thing in my head is demented if it thinks that Rose is The One."
He hoped his veela heard that.
Draco let out a sigh and began flipping through one of the journals he'd pulled from the shelves. It was a classic stalling technique - Scorpius had employed it many times when he was at risk of losing an argument (usually with Rose, his mind supplied incredibly unhelpfully). The older man closed the book and asked his next question without looking at his son directly.
"What did you dream of?"
Of all the things Scorpius was expecting, that wasn't one of them. "Pardon?"
"When you dreamt of Rose," his father clarified, this time turning to look at his son where he was sprawled inelegantly on the lounge, "what did you dream of?"
Scorpius blushed redder than Rose's hair. He was not going to go into details with his father. Draco swallowed uncomfortably in understanding and muttered a very diplomatic, "Oh."
"Quite," Scorpius replied, tired, head-achey, and now humiliated. It was a triple threat to his self-confidence.
"Was there anything else in these dreams?" Draco questioned delicately, "Anything that wasn't of a…carnal nature?"
Scorpius was going to make a pensieve, remove the memory of his conversation from his brain, store it in the pensieve, and fucking destroy it.
He thought of his dreams and immediately understood what his father was implying. Because as nauseating as it was to have thoughts of Rose naked running through his head, he also had to face the reality that his dreams weren't just about sex. There were portions - very large portions in fact - that seemed to just be her smiling at him. Or laughing. Or running her fingers through his hair.
Scorpius remembered how breathless she sounded when dream-Rose told him she loved him and his pants grew instantly uncomfortable. Apparently his veela's growing prominence also meant he would become victim to awkward erections again just like when he was a goddam teenager.
Just. Fucking. Great.
Would it be suicide or murder if he killed the veela part of his brain?
"Yes," he eventually answered but denied going into further details. He was thankful that his father didn't pry too much.
"So the attraction isn't just physical," it was a statement as much as a question. Scorpius wanted to argue that it wasn't even physical rather than just physical. There was no attraction just…rivalry. He told his father so.
"We're polar opposites," Scorpius sighed, trying (and failing) to keep the anger from his tone, "We are actively repelled by each other. Whenever we're near each other the only physical urge either of us feel is the need to fight."
"Being her opposite doesn't necessarily mean you're not supposed to be mates."
Scorpius scoffed in disbelief, "Please don't try to sell me that 'opposites attract' bullshit."
Draco raised an eyebrow at him - a reminder that he was speaking to his father and therefore needed to remember his manners - before sitting opposite Scorpius in an ornate armchair that didn't look at all comfortable. Like so much of the furniture in Malfoy Manor, it was supposed to say 'look at how rich we are' and not necessarily 'we hope you feel at home in our home'.
"Mates aren't meant to be the person who will agree with you unquestionably and follow you on every whim you entertain," Draco explained with little fuss, "Mates are equals. Equality looks different depending on the scenario."
Scorpius thought of that time Rose hit him with a bat bogey hex so strong he had to be sent to St. Mungos. Funnily enough, the first word that came to mind when recounting the event was not equality.
"It would surely help if we could at least tolerate each other," he mumbled.
"Have you ever tried?" The look on his father's face indicated he knew the answer. Were all Malfoys smug? Was that a genetic defect as well or learned behaviour? God it was annoying when he wasn't the one firing it off. His empathy for Weasley and her supposedly inability to restrain herself from punching him all through school was growing with every second he spent here.
"One person willing to change does not a harmonious friendship make," Scorpius grumbled into his teacup, "I could be as sweet as pie and it wouldn't make a lick of difference if Rose isn't willing to come to the table."
"Have you invited her to the table?"
Scorpius rolled his eyes.
"There is clearly a setting for her with her name on a little place-card - she's just choosing not to read it."
"You never chose to read your place-card - forcing you was the only way to get you to take your seat." This metaphor was getting out of control, "Maybe you need to put Rose in a similar position."
"Just so we're clear," Scorpius decided to be deliberately obtuse to get out of this conversation, "Are you officially recommending I kidnap Rose and force her to have dinner with me as a way to reconcile our differences?"
Draco looked equal parts frustrated and horrified. "That's not what I'm saying at all."
"Then we really need to ditch the table metaphor," Scorpius waved dismissively, "My head hurts enough as it is. This is only adding to my headache."
Scorpius got the distinct impression he was getting on his father's last nerve. It was immensely satisfying.
"Maybe you need to teach Rose how to be kind," an almost imperceivable twang of irritation rang through his words.
"Ha!" Scorpius could not contain the laugh before it burst from his mouth. His father seemed unimpressed, "Have you met me? Kindness isn't exactly my M.O."
"I've seen how you treat your mother," Draco spoke with assurance and more than a touch of arrogance, like he was boasting about his son's ability to chose not to be an asshole on occasion, "you can be very understanding when you want to be."
"Rose manages to be kind to everyone else, just not me," he sounded more hurt by that observation than he intended to.
"Show her that you deserve her kindness," his father said it like it was easy; there was nothing about interacting with Rose than was simple, and earning her kindness was a feat for superhumans. And superhuman he was not.
"I'm a half-human half-sex-obsessed-bird-thing; maybe I don't deserve her kindness?"
It wasn't until he'd voiced it that Scorpius realised that maybe that's what this all boiled down to - what he deserved. He was forever dealing with burdens he didn't deserve to carry. The burden of dragging the Malfoy name out of the mud when so many of his ancestors had abandoned it there with their bad decisions and misguided ideals. The burden of being something other than human, of facing the reality that he was different, right at his core, and that his life would always be more complicated because of it.
And then there was this latest burden - the fact that he had to consider the idea that he was soul mates with Rose Bloody Weasley. The bane of his existence. His nemesis since always. Where his family was shunned, hers was lauded. Where his name brought on scowls, hers brought about smiles. He wouldn't have to just prove he was good enough to Rose herself, but to the entire Wizarding World that would hear word of a Malfoy and a Weasley getting together and immediately suspect dark magic. He didn't deserve the pressure of wooing not only the woman, but everything she represented. He'd grown weary of proving himself to everyone. He'd done nothing to deserve this additional battle.
And although Scorpius didn't consider himself a bad person, and saw that Rose wasn't as pure as everyone else seemed to think, he wasn't ignorant enough to suggest that he didn't deserve Rose's ire. They had been cruel to each other - so very, very cruel - since they were ten. The fact that their fights were less cutting these days didn't detract from that. He hadn't earned her kindness. Just as she hadn't earned his. They weren't deserving of each others' best selves, not currently anyway.
And even if he wasn't a Malfoy, and she wasn't a Weasley, Scorpius didn't deserve to not get a say in who he spent the rest of his life with simply because an old family curse made him half-monster. And, despite their disagreements, he held the same belief for Rose - she didn't deserve to not get a say in who she gave her heart to. Both of them deserved better than the hand the universe had dealt them.
"Why is the idea if being veela so abhorrent to you?" Draco's frank question interrupted his musings once more. To Scorpius, the answer was incredibly simple.
"It's a curse."
"It gives you strength."
"It's a weakness."
His father scoffed at him.
"It gives you abilities regular witches and wizards would - and probably have - killed for!"
Scorpius couldn't think of a time he'd heard a claim so boldly untrue. He believed his father was a smart man, but that was just bloody stupid. He brought out his most condescending tone in all his arsenal of assholery to respond.
"Who was the last sucker that got murdered because some daft bint wanted to be able to hear people's heartbeats when they touched their skin - answer me that one."
A twitch of his eyebrows was the only definitive clue Scorpius got to alert him to his error. He'd said too much. Again.
After several moments of silence, Draco attempted a cooly disinterested tone when he asked, "When did that happen?"
Nope. Scorpius wasn't going to give him the opportunity to call him an idiot. So instead, he chose to be deliberately oppositional.
"…it doesn't matter."
"You can hear Rose's heartbeat?" His father was undeterred. The thumping in his head increased and he had to consciously stop himself from throwing something at him.
"I said it doesn't matter," his tone was gravel as he forced the words out past gritted teeth once more. Draco looked like he was similarly tempted to throw something at his son.
"How can you possibly be trying to fight this?" He sounded just as exasperated as Scorpius felt, which he thought was entirely unjustified - Draco didn't get to be fed up with this situation, it wasn't like it was impacting him directly. Scorpius, on the other hand, just found out he had an avian curse that meant he wanted to shag his greatest rival. He was considerably more hard done by. Draco continued regardless of his son's scowl.
"Three days without a proper potion and you're already feeling drawn to Rose and dreaming of her and hearing her heart beat. Merlin, isn't it obvious you can't fight this?"
"You assume I'm the only one that'll fight it!" Scorpius snapped and instantly regretted it. He kept his heart well guarded like a very dangerous beast. He had just allowed his father an access-all areas viewing, however brief it was. And that was a very foolish thing to do.
"What do you mean?" The older man's tone was gentle and inquisitive, but bade no room for dismissal. They would have this conversation, whether he liked it or not.
Scorpius struggled to put what he was feeling into words. Namely because it was exactly that - feelings. He wasn't good at those. This entire exchange with his father had been the most open discussion he'd ever had with anyone about his emotions and inner turmoil. It wasn't comfortable, it didn't lift a weight from his shoulders. All it did was make him feel even more entrapped by his own mind. However, he knew his father's tenacity matched his own, and he knew he wouldn't let this go. So Scorpius did his best to describe how he was feeling without giving too much away. He kept his tone light, his movements subtle, and tried desperately to stop his voice from wavering as he spoke.
"The key thing you're forgetting in all of this, Father, is that it's not just a matter of me deciding to love Rose; she's got to pick me. And after almost two decades of animosity and thinly veiled attempts at driving each other mad, I don't think there's anything I can say or do that is going to convince her to love me."
Draco eyed him critically, seemingly trying to literally see through his skull and into his mind.
Good luck, I'm quite certain I've lost it during this conversation. I have no mind for you to fossick through; you should have tried before you grilled me for 30 minutes about the possibility that I'm destined to fall in love with Rose Fucking Weasley.
"You're underestimating yourself," Draco said finally, his voice even and confident.
"I know Rose," he stated with little emotion. Because it wasn't an emotional statement - that was simply a fact. And that was horrifying. The itching under his skin intensified and he was sorely tempted to start shedding layers of his clothing and skin if necessary to escape the suffocating feeling taking over him.
"She's not just Rose though - she's your mate." His father kept throwing that word around like either of them could really comprehend what it meant. Scorpius let out a disgruntled breath and dragged his hand through his unkempt hair once more.
"That doesn't change anything."
"That changes everything," Draco implored, "She will feel things similar to you."
"She isn't being controlled by a fucking bird-brain."
His father let out a heavy sigh, as if Scorpius stating the obvious was becoming tiresome. Well excuse him for having an existential crisis of mammoth proportions. How very inconsiderate to not be instantly ok with the bloody tragedy his life had become.
"Veelas are intelligent and highly emotional creatures," his father contended, Scorpius begged to differ, "She wouldn't be your chosen one if you didn't have a chance."
"Maybe my veela is high?" Scorpius attempted not to sound as desperate as he felt when he reasoned with his father, "Maybe years of suppressants has turned its brain to mush? Maybe my veela is the exception and is just fucking stupid. Maybe it's a masochist."
"All Malfoys are to an extent," his father shrugged and Scorpius fought the mental image of his father in bondage. He wanted to burn out his eyes, "We're also very charming - you can be too, when you put your mind to it."
"You have an unmatched gift for turning what should be a compliment into an insult," his face slid into one of an emotionless slate, "I'm very envious."
Draco ignored his quip, "What I'm saying, Scorpius, is that if you just accept this for what it is and try to make the most of it, you may just be surprised with how Miss. Weasley responds."
He kind of detested that fact his father was calling her Miss. Weasley. It was too formal but too familiar at the same time. He spoke of her like he knew her. And he didn't - his father had no fucking clue the kind of person Rose Weasley was.
Scorpius did.
He knew what foods made her vomit just at their smell (Brussel sprouts and steamed cabbage, which he had been known to hide in her office when she had annoyed him), what Quidditch team she followed (The Chudley Cannons, just like her father, but she had a soft spot for the Hollyhead Harpies), and which constellation was her favourite (Pyxis - the navigator's compass).
Oh Merlin, he did know her.
When the fuck had that happened?!
He buried his anxiety at the realisation he had been unconsciously storing information about Rose for years by making another jibe.
"Or I could end up with my teeth kicked in. The latter seems infinitely more likely."
The older man shrugged, "Maybe that's a risk you need to be willing to take."
"That's an easy call to make when it isn't your teeth," he challenged.
"I just want to see you happy, Scorpius," Draco did his best imitation of concern and empathy by trying to mirror what Astoria would say in this situation, "And a male veela without it's mate will be a miserable cad."
"So instead you want me to be a content cad like you?" He asked lightly.
His father smiled at him.
"Precisely."
Scorpius really just didn't want to have to deal with this at all. He just wanted to continue taking his potion and ignore the fact that he wasn't, in the strictest sense of the word, completely human. He didn't want to face the truth of the matter, didn't want to think about what unleashing his veela meant - that there were elements of his life that were fundamentally out of his control. This was just another portion of his existence that was cursed by his ancestors, more walls built to prevent him from succeeding because he was A Malfoy. So, just like the prejudice and reputation he had battled throughout his youth, he could only attempt to defeat it with his intelligence and hard work. His potion had done that for years, now he would have to resort to fishing through endless journal entries and ancient resources to find some other way of keeping this all under control.
Maybe then, when he wasn't at the mercy of his inner monster, Scorpius would contemplate the possibility of pursuing Rose as a mate. But it was unlikely. And it definitely wasn't happening until after he could get better control of himself. However, in the spirit of appeasing his father, he announced slightly different intentions.
"I'm still going to look for ways to break the bond," he announced to the room, but he was calmer when he spoke now, and it sounded less like the mindless ramblings of a madman as it had from the moment he'd stepped out of the floo, "But in the - admittedly, very likely - event that it proves unsuccessful…"
Speaking the next words aloud was more painful than pulling teeth. His father's silence was oddly encouraging instead of unsettling for once.
"Then I guess I could…contemplate the possibility…of seeking out Rose," Scorpius finished lamely, mortified that he even voiced the prospect let alone entertain the possibility of following through on it. It provided him with some semblance of satisfaction that his father gave him a tight smile in response. He was happy for him, but Scorpius had the sneaking suspicion that the older man had just realised, should the situation be what Scorpius feared, he would have to make nice with Ron and Hermione Weasley.
That in itself was almost enough for him to chase Rose.
Draco flicked his wand and summoned the decanter of Firewhiskey and two fresh glasses from the corner. He plucked the decanter from the air and poured the amber coloured liquid into both glasses before motioning one to Scorpius.
"Are we celebrating or commiserating?" He asked as he caught the glass delicately, ignoring the implications of drinking hard liquor before midday and how that was generally frowned upon.
His father was silent and contemplative for several long minutes as he looked at the liquid swirling in his own glass. After several long minutes he let out a sigh and raised his glass.
"Pick one."
They both threw back their platinum blonde heads as they polished off the entire contents of their glasses in one go. And when Scorpius proposed another immediately after, his father agreed without question. Merlin knows they'd need it.
I've had to upload in a different format than usual so if the formatting is a bit whack I apologise!
Hope you all enjoyed. More Rose-Scorpius banter to be included in the next chappie. Hope you all have a lovely day. Shine on you crazy diamonds xo