For your lovelyand very much appreciatedreviewsof Chapter 20,thank you to:-
Guest 1
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I do keep wondering if you're the same person being nice and reviewing twice… :D
A/N: J K Rowling created (most of) the characters in this fic. The story is AU.
***chapter 21***
***Sticks and Stones***
"We need to find the Ancient Wand and destroy it," Hermione explained.
"Oh, you can't, Mum," Rose said matter-of-factly. "It's already ruined."
"Ruined?" Hermione stared at her daughter. The Ancient Wand couldn't be ruined. It was impossible. Very, very powerful magic would be required even to weaken it slightly. She needed to get to the bottom of this mystery.
"My Dad drowned it," Scorpius added.
"My Friend's Dad was learning it to swim and digging for choc'late in the puddle." Hugo's statement, delivered with a confident air of knowledge as the little wizard kindly took time out from his busy schedule of being interviewed by imaginary wizarding reporters, made perfect sense to his peers although five out of six adults (Draco being privy to the wand's exciting adventures and therefore being the exception) remained baffled.
"Teaching it to swim." Rose couldn't abide bad grammar.
"He wasn't learning it to swim." Lily bypassed her cousin's English lesson. "He was learning it to float."
"Teaching it to float!" Rose sighed, raising her eyes and palms Heavenward. "Scorpius's Dad was teaching it to float!"
"Make your mind up, Rose," James said bossily. "Scorpius's Dad can't have been learning the wand to swim and learning it to float at the same time."
"But now I'm all mixed up," Albus complained. He turned to Scorpius, perplexed. "I thought your Dad wanted to play jumping in the puddle?"
"Oh, I think he prob'ly did at first. Then I think he decided to see if he could find any stones or fish or crabs in there." Scorpius's imagination, once unleashed, knew no bounds and he embraced freedom of thought with as much enthusiasm as Hugo. "Then he put the wand in the puddle to see how deep it was. Then I think he got a bit bored and decided to do a magic trick but he couldn't do the trick so then he..."
"Enough!" Draco yelled, giving up on the idea that concentrating on a vague spot in the distance might make it seem he wasn't there. "I was not jumping in puddles, digging for chocolate, or teaching Ancient Wands to swim, float or even dance the tango. For Merlin's sake, Scorpius, will you please..."
"Scorpiuso Hyperiono Malfoylyte," Scorpius corrected. "Dad, will you…?"
"No, no, NO! I am NOT going to call you – or ANYBODY ELSE HERE - Scorpiuso Hyperiono Malfoylytte, short for Scorpius!" Draco glared at Potty Head One, proud creator of the appellation, daring him to argue, and then at Ron Weasley. For good measure. It proved to be a justified glare.
Ron lived up to his foot-in-mouth reputation. "Well, you've certainly excelled yourself with your stupidity this time, Malfoy. How the hell can Scorpiuso Hyperiono Malfoylyte possibly be short for Scorpius?"
"Ask your nephew!" The nerve-shattered Slytherin screeched, actually making Ron jump.
He would have said more except at that moment he felt his wife's fingers lock into his own, instantly calming him. And because, like a bickering long married couple, the two were given to such literary spats, Ron also would have said more except at that moment he felt his wife's warning fist thump his arm, instantly silencing him. The red-headed wizard sucked in an agonised breath at the sudden onslaught of pain. As Draco could have testified, if only Ron had thought to seek his advice, Hermione packed one hell of a punch.
"Look, standing here isn't getting us anywhere," Hermione pointed out, determined to get the conversation back on track and discover the whereabouts of the dangerous wand.
Hugo perked up. "Are we going to apple-hate, Mum? Can I go on My Friend's Dad's sleeve?"
Hermione had learnt long ago - as had Draco albeit very recently and the hard way - that, no matter how bewildering the topic raised, it was prudent to avoid falling into intricate debates with the little wizard. "No, Hugo, we are not going to hate apples." She moved swiftly on as her youngest child drew breath in preparation for the next question. "This is meant to be the kids' play-date so why don't we all go back inside and enjoy the party?"
"Good idea," Harry agreed.
"As long as we walk in and nobody attempts apparition when they're not very good at it," Ginny murmured drily, while Astoria took hold of Scorpius's hand and steered a reluctant Draco, who was watching the children suspiciously, towards the house. "Come on, kids!" She added aloud. "Let's go get something to eat. Hurry up, guys!"
The latter instruction was directed at three Potters and one Granger-Weasley who were lagging behind. For it seemed the foiled debater had decided to take the scenic route and walk around the old oak tree, which he deemed extremely thoughtful of himself because the stubborn old oak tree, having inconveniently planted itself slap bang in the middle of his path over a hundred years ago with no consideration whatsoever for future generations who might want to walk there, made no attempt whatsoever to move out ot his way. But Hugo really, really wanted the interesting black twig that he'd espied in the nearby sunlight-sparkling rain puddle that had played such an interesting part in their time travelling history.
"What's that?" Lily demanded from behind his right shoulder.
"It's a piece of wood, Lily," Albus replied.
"Well...duh." James half regretted that he and his little brother had abandoned their mud fight in order to check out why Hugo was so absorbed in searching the rain-puddle. He'd been hoping for buried treasure at the very least. "What do you want a piece of wood for, Hugo?"
"He doesn't know yet. Do you?" Albus had apparently elected himself Hugo's spokesperson.
"Go 'way, mind your businesses." Hugo made it sound as though his three inquisitive cousins should return immediately to manage corner shops, hairdressers and other assorted small ownership concerns. With one arm held aloft, clutching the first find, he pulled a second mud-coated piece of wood out of the puddle to keep it company. But sadly all too soon it was abandoned and alone in the world once more. Lily promptly snatched the first.
"Thank you!" She announced triumphantly, and then, just as her cousin was preparing for a spectacular scream special, quickly covered her tracks with an admirable display of Slytherin cunning. "Mum, Dad! I was good and remembered my manners and said thank you!"
"Well done, Lils!" Harry shouted back absently, too busy sharing an amused but puzzled glance with Ginny over another matter altogether to give the little witch his full attention.
Hugo was not a man to be trifled with however. "Mum, Dad! Can I magic Lily away forever and ever before I come in?" He yelled, waving the lone twig threateningly at the unimpressed little witch.
"Yeh, okay, Hugo, but don't be too long!" Ron yelled in return just as absently, sharing an equally amused but puzzled glance with Hermione over the Other Matter Altogether.
"Won't work!" Lily sneered at the stick-wielding adversary.
"Will," Hugo argued resolutely.
"Prob won't, Hu," warned James the realist.
"Hugo thinks it might," concluded Albus in his self-appointed role of spokesperson.
"Well, if you magic ME away forever and ever, I'll magic YOU away forever and ever!" Lily didn't specify exactly how she intended to achieve this magical – nay, miraculous – feat.
Hugo was not to be dissuaded. It mattered not a jot that he had no idea what the spell was to make someone disappear. He was an optimist. Any spell would do. And he had often heard grown-ups cast this spell so he knew the words. Or thought he knew the words. "Eggs smell -Eeeeeeeeeeee! It's our bus!"
Both Trimblefeathers and Boots were startled at the brand new high-pitched way of pronouncing the third syllable of the expelliarmus spell and reacted accordingly. The young owl screeched while the plump black cat wailed like a banshee.
Oh, but, Reader, just before you become embroiled in the knotty and hypothetical argument of whether someone magicked away forever can magic away forever someone who magicked them away forever, may I quickly, and just for a moment, snatch you away and bring you to view the Other Matter Altogether. Et voila!
No, your eyes do not deceive you. This truly is the Malfoy family – and Guest – before your very gaze. Draco links arms with Astoria, Astoria holds Scorpius's hand, and Guest – well, Guest, as you can see, stirs the mix. Hermione and Ron's eldest strolls along with them, holding Draco's hand. If it wasn't for the fact she looks nothing whatsoever like any of the Malfoys and looks a great deal like the Granger-Weasleys, a casual passer-by might be forgiven for believing her to be a Malfoy daughter.
I am quite certain, being a Potterhead, you did not make such a glaring error and I return you safely, if a little annoyed at the interruption, intriguing enough though it was and consequently filed away for your future perusal, to stare at the hooting owl, wailing cat, three little Potters all shouting at once and a wild, bushy-haired, red-faced little fellow waving a stick like an ancient warrior and screaming about eggs and buses.
"Kids! In NOW!" Ginny called, alerted by the noise, and here at last they come, Hugo, Lily, James and Albus, each smiling sweetly, quarrels forgotten.
Ah, but did you see what I saw but seconds ago? When the playful breeze rippled the puddle and brought two more objects swirling to the surface? Albus and James easily caught both twigs. With Boots and Trimblefeathers presumably classing themselves as kids too and following them inside, it was perhaps instinct borne of previous experience being told they could not come indoors with muddy boots or two bags of discarded chocolate frog wrappers still smeared with chocolate or fifty-four painstakingly collected slugs and other similar unreasonable demands that their parents had been known to make over the years, that caused all four children to hide the sticks behind their backs...