For your very much appreciated reviews of Chapter 24, many thanks to:-
JeanandBilius
Carlaeme26
Guest
A/N: J K Rowling created (most of) the characters in this fic. The story is AU.
***chapter 25***
***writers and wanderers***
The Ancient Wand suddenly pulled back from Draco's chest, tugged him upright with some powerful magnetic force and hovered above his head like the sword of Damocles, apparently stricken with an inability to kill that would have greatly shamed its Dark masters unknown had they known anything about it. Or maybe it had made up its mind to put on a conjuring show and urgently required an on-stage assistant. Or then again maybe it was simply distracted by recent events. It was hard not to be.
The Granger-Weasley home together with its occupants – well, most of its occupants – juddered and shook. Pictures and ornaments leapt about, then changed their minds and leapt back in place, dishes, bottles and glasses emptied their contents and broke themselves up, then pieced themselves together and served and poured themselves all over again; floors and carpets joined forces to raise and swirl and twist; walls, windows and ceilings spun in frantic circles, then spun frantically back; furniture stampeded thunderously about like late-for-work commuters racing for last-minute trains.
The children took it all in their stride.
"Yay! We're going apple hating!" Hugo declared, he and Lily delightedly boarding their desired transport – two billowing Slytherin green sleeves, threadbare and frayed, but perfect for passengers who preferred to travel light and economy class.
"Oh, wow, I love your Dad's apparating, Scorp, it's loads better than my Dad's. Wish I had a sleeve!" Albus watched Lily and Hugo enviously, wishing too he'd had the foresight to book a ticket.
"I am NOT apparating. OR apple hating. OR dancing!" The additional denial was purely for the dancing-obsessed youngest Potter's benefit. The little blonde-haired witch was regarding Draco's fancy footwork as he tried to stay upright with a damn too much interest for his liking.
Lily cast him a scathing look. Of course Mr Mallyfly was dancing. All the grown-ups were.
Dad and Uncle Ron were spinning round on the moving carpet and jumping randomly past flying furniture; Mum and Mrs Mallyfly whizzed and, weaved their way through tables and chairs that were busy hurrying in the opposite direction, and Auntie Hermione without a dancing partner continuously circled on the outer boundary of the room.
"What a racket!" Astoria yelled, pressing her hands over her ears to block out the noise. It was a privilege denied to Draco, Hermione, Ron, Harry and Ginny. The Slytherin was weighed down with passengers while the Gryffindors were being forced by the same powerful force that controlled Draco to raise and lower wands at regular intervals on their exciting all-inclusive round-the-living-room trips.
"It's enough to wake the goddam dead!" Draco yelled back, struggling to stay upright.
"But, Dad, you can't die and come back yet! I haven't done your letter for the last writes. I haven't even got anything to write on!"Scorpius bemoaned, staring reproachfully at his father. It really would be most inconsiderate if he went off dying and rising from the dead without waiting until everyone was ready.
"No worries, Scorp," James said confidently. "I'll go get the stuff. Won't be long."As good as his word, he jumped on the unfurling carpet, travelled as far as his aunt and uncle's stationery shelf, jumped off to collect writing necessities (which, like everything else including the shelf, were flying back and forth and thus very kindly and thoughtfully flew straight into his hand) caught the very next carpet back and immediately began doling out quills and parchment.
Only Scorpius and Albus accepted however. Lily and Hugo, still clinging to the sleeves of their transport, looked at him as if he were crazy and Rose politely but firmly declined.
"James," she sighed; "writing letters is not going to achieve anything because, Scorpius," she turned to include her best friend in the conversation; "your Dad is not going to die and come back because he's not going to die in the first place and so all you have to do is just...what?" Albus was urgently tapping her arm with the quill he'd lately received courtesy of the Santa stationery distributor.
"If Scorpius's Dad's not going to die in the first place is he going to die in the second place and where do we have to go for the second place?" Albus felt he'd been entrusted with a great responsibility by his older brother. He was determined to take his letter-writing duties seriously.
"I give up, Mr Malfoy! I just give up!" Rose pulled up a chair opposite where Draco already sat, having sunk under the weight of the sleeve steerage stowaways.
"Me too," he sighed. He lowered his voice, puzzled by all the activity. "You don't happen to know where everybody's going, do you?"
"It's the house," Rose explained. "It's throwing everybody except us about. Even Trimblefeathers and Boots."
Draco glanced at the owl and cat. Despite her natural balance and agility a loudly mewing Boots was having to constantly leap around while a hooting Trimblefeathers couldn't navigate to fly and darted everywhere in zig-zag fashion.
The Slytherin nodded in like this had a habit of happening when Scorpius, Pottyheads One and Two and Dance-Yourself-Dizzy were around. Luckily so, too, was Lieutenant Granger. "But why?"
"I'm not sure," Rose replied, chewing her lip in contemplation.
"It might be bored," Hugo suggested helpfully.
"You're so stupid, Hugo," his fellow passenger said scornfully. "Houses don't throw people about when they're bored!"
"Ex-actly!" Draco agreed, pleasantly surprised that the little witch was being logical for once. "You should listen to what the witch she has to say."
"Yeh," Lily said. "Houses just go for a walk when they're bored."
Meanwhile Ron also had questions and sought answers from a Wise One. 'Mione, what's the hell is happening?" He roared above the din. "Why does the house keep moving?"
"Time!" Hermione sounded like an old-fashioned publican warning punters to drink up fast. "Time's out of control!"
"Can't we stop it?" Harry shouted, as he whizzed by on the undulating carpet. Rather impolitely, he didn't wait for an answer but zoomed past on his way to perform an impressive figure of eight, closely followed by Ron on his way to stun the audience with a slightly less impressive a figure of four.
"No. Only Draco can." Hermione's voice called after him as the room transported her around its edges.
"Draco?!" Ginny's bafflement was evident as the carpet skated her by.
"He's the only one who can resist the Ancient Wand," Hermione explained. "He has to want to destroy Darkness forever."
"He will, he does!" Astoria provided the relevant information as she glided by after Ginny.
Oblivious to the movers and shakers, James was extremely busy, scribbling feverishly. The room spinning, the furniture rocking and rolling, the crazed dancers, nothing could interrupt his work. James wrote. And wrote. And wrote.
Ron and Harry shuffle-danced around the room together, watched by a morose Scorpius.
"Scorpius, your Dad will be okay, honest. Mum and Uncle Harry always know what to do," Rose promised, concerned by his glum expression. "Oh, and Dad does too sometimes," she tagged on as an afterthought, noticing her father's scowl as, arms outstretched, Ron returned and circled his wild-haired daughter and Malfoy junior several times before he abruptly glided away. He must have suddenly remembered he had promised the next dance to Harry, for the pair began what looked like an extremely interesting jive.
"Oh, I know! It's not that. It's just...I can't think what to write." Scorpius took the quill from behind his ear and sighed. "What have you got so far, James?"
The consulted wordsmith was extremely proud of his handiwork and delighted to be asked to share .He coughed importantly and read aloud.
"Dear Mr Malfoy, I hope you are well and enjoying dying. It is very hot here. And some rain. But no snow. No thunder. No lightning. No wind. I don't mean wind like when my Dads frends dog is smelly and he does a spell so its not smelly.
("My Dad's friend does the spells; the dog can't," James broke off to put Scorpius in the picture before taking up his refrain once more.)
We do not have a dog or a cat or a hipogrif or a pig or a rat or a horse. We might have a pet rackspert. My Mums frend Luna said you cant see them so I think we might have a pet rackspert and not no. I hope it has food. I hope it has water. We do not have a snake. We do not have a dragon..."
"Oh, cool, we've got a pet wrackspurt!" Albus cried excitedly, breaking off from his letter. He felt he'd done enough. After much soul searching, a great deal of staring into space for inspiration, and pacing the floor with hand pressed to forehead reminiscent of a best-selling author being badgered by his publishing house to produce his umpteenth novel, he'd written Hello. "Bagsy I take it for its walks."
"No way. I'M taking it for its walks," James stated, dodging out of the way as for the fourth or fifth time his parents, Uncle Ron and Scorpius's Mum weaved among them.
It was odd how the Mums and Dads had all suddenly started dancing, Hugo thought. Though everybody knew grown-ups were a bit weird so maybe it wasn't.
"Wait!" Hermione cried.
Although nobody did. Ron and Harry whizzed pastlike whirling dervishes while Ginny and Astoria entertained with an interesting and graceful duet.
Nor did Hermione heed her own advice. "The kids aren't being affected by the moving room." she continued, undeterred by the non-captive audience as she shark-circled the would-be scribes and performing artists.
"Yes, well, nothing has any effect on them," Draco spoke from bitter experience. And rather fearfully. The smallest witch and smallest wizard were hanging on to his sleeves like limpets, while Scorpius, Potty Head One, Potty Head Two and Lieutenant Granger were consulting over parchments that had something to do with his death, for Merlin's sake! If only Tori would abandon her new-found passion for line dancing, but, no, she and the Weaselette continued to march, sway and twirl in almost perfect synchronisation while The Chosen Prat and The Whinging Wonder river-danced, tap-danced, high-land flinged and even occasionally ballet-stepped by.
"And it's not affecting us as much either." Hermione frowned thoughtfully at her erstwhile foe. "Draco, exactly what were you thinking in the split second when The Ancient Wand tried to kill you?"
"Oh, pretty much what anyone thinks about when they're being threatened with death, Granger, pink, fluffy bunnies and how nice it would be to skip barefoot through fields of buttercups, tulips and daisies singing tra-la-la, what do you think I was thinking about?"
Hermione didn't so much as blink. "You were worrying about the kids. And me."
"I most certainly was NOT!" Draco protested with exceptional vehemence. Because the know-all witch was right. He had been worrying about the extremely annoying little witches and wizards and praying Granger's phenomenal brain would be able to fix everything and fast.
"Which is the reason I'm on the periphery of the zone and not IN it and the kids aren't in it at all. And it seems Astoria, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Trimblefeathers and Boots were time-zoned only because you didn't have time to worry about them in the same split second," Hermione deduced; "Draco, I believe it's impossible for the Wand to influence you into being a Death Eater because I reckon it's impossible for you to turn to the Dark!"
The Slytherin must have taken great offence at having his Death Eater shortcomings pointed out so publicly, for, with the Ancient Wand hovering above his perfectly-gelled white-blond hair, and without another word, he dropped his airborne passengers back on the runway and waltzed backwards out of the door from whence he'd so recently entered...
A/N: Thanks to everyone who sent good wishes about the flat. I've not seen anything suitable so far, but my tenancy agreement here is till September so still time. Also, should have time to write the final chapter of this fic because it turned out the above was next-to-last… :D