"Oh, I'm going to miss you so much," Hermione Weasley murmured into her daughter's slightly mussed brown hair as the two embraced tightly, most likely knocking the air from the other's lungs. They were standing in front of a large house made of white stone adorned with crawling bright green ivy. The gates stood next to them, tall and imposing, with the family car waiting on the other side, used for special occasions just like this.
"We'll be back for Christmas," Rose reminded her, though she gripped at least as tightly before she let go. "And I'll still send you letters, and by the summer we'll be all graduated and you'll be begging me to find a place on my own to live." She grinned cheekily.
Hermione laughed, but stepped back to let her husband hug Rose. Scorpius watched quietly, a bit apart from the others, feeling almost like some intruder. He'd felt mildly that way for a lot of the summer, actually, though Mrs. Weasley had been very kind and accommodating. Mr. Weasley had remained rather gruff, and as he embraced Rose, Scorpius thought he heard him mutter, "I could still kill him, you know."
Scorpius decided for his own peace of mind that he probably imagined that.
"And oh, Scorpius," Mrs. Weasley began, and surprised him by giving him a quick hug. He remained frozen for a moment, startled, but hugged her back after the pause. She pulled back and smiled at him. "Thank you for staying with us. It's so nice to finally meet you. And please tell your family thanks for letting Al and Rosie stay with them."
Mr. Weasley looked like he wanted to comment upon that, but instead nodded at Scorpius—which gave the seventeen year old hope that perhaps sometime in the not-so-near future that the man might actually come to like him, maybe—before asking Rose, "You sure you have everything?"
"Pretty sure," she responded, glancing at Al, who nodded. "Yeah, we should be fine. Got our bags all packed."
With a few more hugs the Weasleys got into their car and set off, leaving the three teens in front of the imposing gates of the Malfoy residence. The three Hogwarts students stared up at the metal bars, which seemed to reach on and on towards the sky, unmoving because they all knew this next part of their summer would be a trial at best. Neither Rose nor Al had ever stayed at the Malfoy residence before, largely because the trio were afraid of how Scorpius' family would react. Aimon and Meg were both frequent and easily accepted visitors, being of Slytherin pureblood parentage besides just being Scorpius' cousin and girlfriend respectively, but not only did Al and Rose have Muggle ancestry, their parents had also been at odds with Scorpius' father since they were young. Would he be able to ignore that while they stayed in his home?
"Ready?" Scorpius asked, looking from his male best friend to his female one.
"Not really," Albus replied with a half smile. "I'm still winded from Diagon Alley, personally. You go through that every year, Rosie?"
Rose giggled deviously, which made Scorpius grin despite the queasiness he felt over his friends and family meeting. "Oh come on, tell me you didn't enjoy taking Hugo through the apothecary."
"He made me hold his bag filled with salamander bladders."
"You're lucky he uses bags now," Rose replied airily. "He made me hold them in my hands when we were younger. Anyway, shall we?"
The three started up the drive after Scorpius pushed the gates open, having to trek a bit up the drive before they reached the door. The way was paved, white and neat, without even a hint of grass or weeds wiggling up through, and the lawn was perfectly manicured. While the Weasley or Potter homes were not exactly small nor low-class, but Al and Rose were still a bit surprised by their friend's home.
"Blimey," Al commented, staring at the intricately carved wooden door. "This is where you live?"
"Yeah," said Scorpius absently, letting go of his trunk to reach up and use the platinum knocker, which was in the shape of a curled serpent with emerald eyes. He had always found it a bit gauche and over-the-top, but his great-grandfather Aloysius Greengrass had put it on, so it seemed blasphemy for anyone to take it down. Purebloods could be a bit tradition-minded. "My grandparents have a fully-fledged mansion."
"Bloody hell," Al said faintly, just before the door swung open. For a moment it appeared the door had opened by itself, until they looked down to see the incredibly cheerful house elf standing before them, clasping his long-fingered hands together joyously.
"Master Scorpius, you have returned!" Dinky exclaimed happily, ushering them inside. He wore an emerald-colored tea cozy on his head, with a matching silk pillowcase. His bright green eyes were filled with excitement. "Mistress Astoria will be very pleased, Dinky knows. She has missed Master Scorpius terribly."
"It's nice to see you, Dinky," Scorpius said sincerely, stepping inside. Albus and Rose followed apprehensively, the former taking in the tasteful antiques that were Astoria Malfoy's biggest vice while the latter eyed the house elf with a slight frown. "Where is Mum, by the way?"
"Mistress Astoria is seated in the dining room," Dinky answered, busying himself with their belongings. He practically had to yank Rose's bag out of her hand, and she began nibbling her lip in that worried way of hers as Dinky went off to put their things away. She stared after him, looking troubled.
"Scorpius," she said, grabbing his arm as he started towards the dining room. "You have a house elf?"
"Of course he does. You've known him for six bloody years and you didn't know that?" Al interrupted, craning his neck to look at the mural on the ceiling. "Merlin, mate, this is posh." He frowned faintly, and Scorpius knew just from looking at him that he was worrying about breaking something.
Rose looked troubled, running a hand through her hair nervously, tangling it. Scorpius stopped her, catching her hand and lowering it. "Don't do that," he said, trying in vain to fix her hair. He had heard her complain once to Bess about having it being frizzy, but he'd always rather liked it. Still, he wanted his friends to make the best impression possible on his parents, and crazy hair wasn't going to help.
As he smoothed her cinnamon brown locks away from her face, he realized belatedly how close the two of them were standing. She was looking up at him with an odd expression, and he could feel his heart start to pound a little faster. They were so close, he would only have to move a few inches to brush his lips against hers.
Suddenly he was nervous, too, and the scent of her shampoo seemed to be making his brain slow as molasses while he tried to remind himself, quite firmly, that he loved Meg. Which he did, and it was silly of him to entertain ideas about Rose. His good friend Rosie, who was completely out of the question when it came to dating.
Not that he'd been thinking about that.
"Al's family has a house elf," he reminded her, referring to Kreacher. A much safer thing to think about, too. After all, he didn't want to snog Kreacher. In fact, there were few things he wanted to snog less than Kreacher. "So what's the matter if mine does?"
"It's…it's not, I just… It's just that you're…" she stammered, panicking as she seemed unable to articulate what she meant. But Scorpius knew exactly what she had been thinking.
"A Malfoy," he said. She looked down at her feet, guiltily. "That's why you're acting off."
"You know how my mum is," she mumbled, not looking up at him.
Scorpius frowned at her. "My family treats Dinky well, Rosie, and completely within the Ministry standards that your mum instituted. I thought you would realize that." He dropped his hand away from her.
"You know I don't think…" she began, then stopped and winced. "I'm sorry. I don't know what—"
Either out of impatience or to help his cousin save face, Al interrupted, "You know, we should really go to the dining room before they send out a search party." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited impatiently as Rose and Scorpius stepped away from each other uncomfortably.
Clearing his throat, Scorpius gestured down the hall. "The dining room's this way," he said, starting that direction. Acutely aware of Rose behind him, he exhaled slowly and tried to focus on something, anything calming. Quidditch came to mind: the swirling aerial acrobatics, the roar of the crowds, the sound of a bat slamming into the cold iron of a Bludger. It was something he knew, and was naturally good at. Something a lot less complicated than his family and his friends truly interacting for the first time.
He reached the dark wooden door leading to the dining room and paused, hand against it. Thoughts of chickening out flashed through his mind, but he reluctantly pushed them away. "Here goes," he murmured, and pushed the door open, stepping into the dining room.