Disclaimer: I am not responsible for creating the world of Harry Potter. I am responsible for only the fanfic stories currently posted under this username, as well as the ones still chilling on my computer. I don't mind if you take inspiration or ideas from my posted stories or characters, but I would appreciate a quick check-in first if you're going to do that (and thank you to those of you who have done so in the past!). I do mind if you take inspiration or ideas from my unposted stories - who are you? How did you access my computer and/or my brain? Jokes . . . anyways. Welcome to Chapter 2!
Chapter 2: Inside Flourish and Blotts
Al's trunk was marginally more packed when they left for Diagon Alley the next morning, an achievement Rose proudly claimed as her own (it was and it wasn't; she was responsible for sitting on his bed and heckling him until he packed; he was responsible for the actual act of loading things into his trunk). It was the perfect day for the trip, made even better by the fact that James would be too busy mocking Fred about the sure-to-go-down-in-history Chocolate Incident to spend any time irritating Al.
"So he's still jealous that Fred is dating Kimberly?" Rose asked Al, sotto voce, as they passed through the Leaky Cauldron. James had, apparently, brought chocolate from home, and was busy pelting Fred with pieces whenever he turned away.
"Oh are they dating?"
"Al!" said Rose, "We saw them snogging at the end-of-term Feast! Of course they're dating."
"Well, snogging doesn't mean dating," said Al.
Rose rolled her eyes. "Well, they are. It's obvious if you're looking for it."
"Can't think why they're keeping it a secret from their parents," Lucy said, brushing past them to catch up to Fred.
"Wait, does everyone know?" Al asked.
Lucy sighed and smiled patiently, a dimple appearing on her cheek. "Al, they snogged in public. The entire school knows."
"I sometimes feel," Al said as they passed through the brick wall into Diagon Alley, "Like girls just live in a completely different world than I do. Is that right? Do you live in a different world?"
Rose and Lucy ignored him.
Diagon Alley was bustling, as it always was. It was a crowd of primarily students and parents of students at this time of year; Rose felt as though she might recognize every other person who passed them on the street. There were seventh years strolling by who waved to Dom and Molly (who was sporting a shiny new Head Girl badge and blushing fiercely every time someone brought it up), third years comparing notes and searching for supplies for new electives they'd be starting that year, and even tiny first years looking at a list of supplies and books that seemed nearly as long as they were tall. Rose was sure she'd never been that little.
"We were definitely not that little last year," Al said, echoing her thoughts.
"We should split up," Aunt Ginny said over Rose's head to Uncle Percy. "Any shop that gets us all in at once will have a panic."
After much confusion and some logistical negotiation (James couldn't go with Al, or the two of them might cause an international incident by accident. Likewise, James and Louis couldn't go together, or the two of them might cause an international incident on purpose. A sullen James wound up with Dom and Molly, who promised a bit too sweetly to look after him – though Molly, who was Uncle Percy's daughter in addition to being Head Girl this year, was unlikely to give him too hard a time. James seemed mollified by a promise to stop in at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes if he behaved), Rose and Al headed off with Roxy and their parents. Looking at the way people treated Uncle Harry now, and even her father a bit, Rose didn't know how she could have spent her entire childhood not noticing that they were . . . well, famous. It wasn't as though they were stopped for autographs every three meters; nothing so obvious. But the crowds parted more easily for them. Heads turned just a little wherever they passed – of course, no one was staring outright. But Rose could practically hear the bubble of conversation pop as they walked pass, and then heard whispers resume behind them. How had she never noticed before? She could only shrug it off as youthful obliviousness, and revel slightly (all right, a lot) in the fact that Hugo wouldn't know the full truth for another whole year.
Their visit to Madam Malkin's was relatively uneventful, and their stop to refill Potions ingredients at the Apothecary felt far tamer than it had last year – even though, as second years, Rose and Al would be working with slightly more dangerous ingredients this year. They watched somewhat enviously as Roxy got to buy even more exciting ingredients for her third-year class. Rose didn't know what the Bundimun Ooze was, but the way the store clerk ladled it into a vial wearing two layers of gloves promised something deeply interesting. They left the humid, fetid dimness of Apothecary and headed to the final stop on their list. Flourish and Blotts was Rose's favorite stop, and she knew her father had saved it for last purposefully so she could wander the bookshelves for as long as she wanted. She had always loved the feel of the old leather-bound books, the way the writing was so enchanted it crawled across some of the more ornate covers. She loved that some of the books would giggle when they were opened, or shine light on their reader, or make you levitate just slightly when you held them. She even loved that some of the books needed to be shackled to the shelves – though, of course, she'd never tried to open those. Yet.
Flourish and Blotts was her favorite, but she hadn't bargained on running into the Malfoys.
She knew they were in trouble the second she heard Mr. Malfoy's sleek, snide drawl. They'd only just walked in, blinking the sunlight out of their eyes, when he rounded a corner and came into view.
"Scorpius," he was saying imperiously, "I'm not saying they're the wrong sort – Ah. Potters. Weasleys," he acknowledged Rose and Al's parents with shallow nods.
"Malfoy," Uncle Harry acknowledged, while Rose's mum managed a dignified, "Hello, Draco."
"And you have the children with you. How nice." There was a long pause, during which all of the adults looked at each other as though they hoped someone else would take the responsibility of carrying the figurative conversational baton.
"Er, Dad," Scorpius began, smoothing his hair back nervously, "This is Al. Er. Albus . . . er . . . Potter, and Rose . . . um . . . Rose Weasley. And . . . erm . . . Roxy? Weasley?" Rose had really hoped that Mr. Malfoy would have rescued Scorpius about halfway through that sentence, but apparently he was not the rescuing type when it came to niceties. Draco nodded gravely to each of them in turn.
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," Roxy said, uncharacteristically serious. Being both a third year and a Slytherin meant she knew drama when she saw it.
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," Rose said clearly, elbowing Al next to her.
"'llo, Mr. Malfoy," he echoed. There was another long pause. Rose desperately hoped this would be over soon, and then -
"Who's the wrong sort, Malfoy?" asked Rose's father, almost flippant, but with the same sort of jovial tone that Rose recognized from when he asked whether she had accidentally Floo'd Hugo to the Burrow (that had only happened once, and no, it wasn't an accident).
"No one," Draco answered smoothly, "We were discussing the wrong sort of broomsticks for aspiring Seekers." He clapped a hand on Scorpius's shoulder while Scorpius's eyebrow raised a centimeter in a face that was otherwise very precisely still.
"Oh is Scorpius going out for the Gryffindor team?" Aunt Ginny asked with just a little too much excitement. "It would be so nice for he and Al to play together." Al shot his mother a look that clearly said she was Laying it on Too Thick, Gosh Mum. Roxy rolled her eyes.
"No," said Scorpius a little forcefully. "Er. No. I'm much too injury-prone. I'm happy to cheer Al on from the sidelines."
Uncle Harry chuckled slightly. "Oh, I should ask, Scorpius, have all of your injuries from the Hospital Wing last spring . . . er . . ." he seemed to realize that he wasn't supposed to have known, well, anything about Scorpius, let alone the state of the various scrapes and bruises that he had suffered the last spring when he, Al, and Rose had brought down the Shrieking Shack essentially on their heads. "Well, shite," Uncle Harry finished, somewhat uselessly.
Draco's eyes went narrow. He turned slowly to his son. "How does Mr. Potter know that you were in the Hospital Wing last spring, Scorpius?"
"Er. What Hospital Wing?" Scorpius asked desperately. Al turned to Rose and mouthed What Hospital Wing? with a horrified look on his face.
"You do realize that they are required to notify your parents anytime you are admitted to the Hospital Wing, correct?" Draco seethed at his son.
"Well, I do now," Scorpius muttered.
There was a long and terrible moment where Rose and Al's parents were entirely silent. Draco let his eyes rest on each of them in turn. Aunt Ginny held Uncle Harry's arm loosely, and he took his glasses off to polish them on his robe as though in doing so he could remove the foot that he had so thoroughly put in his mouth. Rose's mother looked almost relieved, and Rose's father just looked as though he was prepared to leap at any provocation. The tips of his ears were bright red. Roxy, who had been hitherto unaware that anyone connected to her younger cousins had spent any time in the Hospital Wing, was watching the situation unfold with her eyes so wide Rose was half-convinced she was trying to imprint the scene directly onto her brain. Probably storing information to tell the rest of the cousins later.
"Scorpius," Draco said slowly, "Were you in the Hospital Wing because of some sort of Chosen One nonsense?"
Rose had no idea what he was on about, but thankfully neither did anyone else.
"What exactly is 'Chosen One nonsense,' Malfoy?" Rose's mother asked in a carefully neutral tone. She now gripped her husband's arm – rather tightly.
"You three," Draco said dismissively, "No you four. Did you never notice that one or more of the four of you wound up in the Hospital Wing at least once a year because of Potter's scar or Potter's godfather or Potter's bloody hero complex? Chosen One nonsense. It's when you allow your friends to literally suffer grievous bodily harm as collateral damage to your own 'epic saga.'"
"If you'll remember, Draco, your pal Voldemort was trying to murder me," Uncle Harry said, barely moving his lips.
"And look what happened to your friends," Draco hissed.
"And how much of that was because of your dear old Dad and his mates, Malfoy?" Ron snarled as Hermione all but physically held him back.
"Remember when your father gave Tom Riddle's diary to an eleven-year-old?" Aunt Ginny spat. "How many times did one of us wind up in the Hospital Wing because of you or one of your bloody relatives?"
"Dad," Scorpius was saying, "Dad, we should go –" He was as red as Rose had ever seen him.
"And it's not as though you were exactly a pacifist, Malfoy," Hermione cut in coldly, still holding Ron, "You became a Death Eater while you were still a student. You let Death Eaters into the school. You attacked our – "
"And you think I want that for my son?" Draco had shaken Scorpius off, and he was no longer trying to be quiet.
Rose realized that no one was shopping at Flourish and Blotts anymore. No, everyone who had been quietly perusing was now quietly staring, lining the little entryway where their parents practically shouted at each other while Rose, Al, and Scorpius tried very hard to disappear into the ground. Roxy watched with unabashed fascination.
"Do you think I want him pulled into whatever intergenerational melodrama you've brought upon your children? Do you think I want him being stitched up in the Hospital Wing every spring, or d—" Draco's voice actually caught, and Rose almost felt bad for him.
"Or dead?" Ron's voice was cruel in a way Rose had never heard before from her father. "Like your mate, Crabbe? Wasn't that more of a suici—"
At that point, with no one holding him back, Draco actually launched himself at Rose's father.
"Ron, no!" Hermione shrieked as there was a collective gasp from the watching crowd. But it was too late. There was an intense, and very brief, scuffle, as both Ron and Draco tried to punch the other in as many places as they could reach. Rose thought she saw flashing lights out of the corner of her eye and then –
BANG!
The two men flew apart, skidding backwards across the floor. Ron remained upright but Draco lost his balance, tripping backward and landing in an undignified crouch on the floor. Uncle Harry and Rose's mother both lowered their wands.
"Are you serious?" Hermione yelled, "I work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement! You cannot have a street brawl in front of me!"
"Don't make me arrest you," added Uncle Harry. There were more flashes of light, and Rose realized that someone was taking photos.
Draco stood up stiffly, brushed off his robes, and sleeked his hair back again. He still looked disheveled and breathed rapidly as he took Scorpius's arm and turned him about.
"I want you," he said with forced calm, "and your family," looking pointedly at Al and Rose, "To stay away from my son." Scorpius turned and shot a helpless look back at them as his father walked him out of Flourish and Blotts.
"That's going to be in all the papers tomorrow," Aunt Ginny said grimly. Her brother shot her a look. "What, not because I'm going to write about it!" she protested, "Didn't you see all of the cameras?"
"That was wicked," Roxy breathed to Rose and Al. "You have so much to tell me."
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! As usual, reviews, favorites, and follows are highly prized commodities that I continue to reread, appreciate, and hoard (respectively).
Oh, and if you do feel like leaving a review - feel free to suggest a character name (or two)? I'm currently drafting up an outline for what will eventually be Book 3, and honestly the hardest thing is coming up with names. I'm so desperate I've resorted to looking up "Top Baby Names in the UK in [Insert Year of Character's Birth]," and now Google thinks I'm pregnant. Please put me out of my weird Google misery.
Love always, bbh