I'll bet you were wondering if I was ever coming back! Sorry it's taken some time to complete this chapter-holidays and all. When last we were together, Scorpius and Albus appeared to be making an impression on their peers at school. Let us find out what the remains of the day bring for the intrepid wizards and their fathers...

"Merlin's balls!" Scorpius hissed, yanking open his locker. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know!" Albus insisted, his voice low. "It wasn't me!"

"Well, I know a jelly-legs jinx when I see one! So if you didn't do it, and I didn't do it, then who did?"

"Wait! You don't think—could one of our classmates be—? No!"

"Well, why couldn't they? We're not going to magical school."

"You have a point. I dunno." Albus shrugged. "But Scorpius—" The bell rang.

"Shit! Now we're tardy!" Scorpius grabbed his things from his locker and slammed it. "I haven't the faintest idea where my next class is located!" He examined the campus map, turning it around.

"I haven't told you about—" Albus began, but Scorpius wasn't listening.

"Wait—there it is!" He pointed to a square on the map. "I'll see you later."

"I think I did wandless magic…" Albus murmured to himself.

"You really think that an audience will sit through a three hour opera, Jenny?" Ramona Vargas asserted.

The music department teachers and Madame Janiček, the head of the dance department sat in a semicircle of chairs around Draco's desk.

"Handel's Messiah is not an opera, Mona," David Whitman, the Composition instructor, stated in a bored tone.

"Yeah, I know it's an oratorio, Dave. That's not my point. The Messiah, is a very long composition. There's fifty-three recitatives. Are your students up to that?"

"With combined choruses, if we begin work this semester, I am certain that we can make it work. As for the audience, I have a vision for a slightly dramatic presentation. Nadine, we may even be able to incorporate a few of your principal dancers."

"Alright, before we become too invested in this idea, I would posit that we each spend some time examining the orchestration for each instrument and voice. Such an undertaking as this must be faithful to the composer's vision—" Jenny Hong opened her mouth to protest, but Draco held up his hand. "That is not to say that we cannot present it in a creative way, but the parents of Lakeshore pay a pretty penny for us to educate their children. It is only right that we present to them a body of work that demonstrates a stellar outcome on the part of the students, yes?"

"I second that," agreed Kevin Polk. "Draco—gosh, what an interesting name—ah, forgive me, as I was saying, I would like to know exactly how faithful you wish to be to the original composition. Historically, the orchestra is not a sizeable one. When I visited the UK a few years ago, the London Symphony Orchestra presented a performance, and I counted maybe fifty or sixty instrumentalists. In keeping with your comment about what parents and patrons are expecting to see, if we limit the orchestration—even auditioning parts for fairness—I promise, there will be pushback."

"Duly noted, Mr. Polk. As I said, perhaps we table this discussion for the time being. I have yet to begin the process of evaluating the students for principal positions. I should like to seat the orchestra and select a concertmaster before rehearsals for Nutcracker proceed too far along." There was a knock at the door, and Scorpius stepped into the office.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir." He began to back out of the room.

"It's quite alright, Scorpius. Has Mr. Potter arrived?" Draco gestured for him to enter. "Ladies and gentlemen, my son, Scorpius."

"Good afternoon, professors." Scorpius gave a slight bow. "No, sir. I believe that he is en route."

"Very good. I shan't be much longer."

"Yes, sir." Scorpius withdrew.

"Right then, in regards to seating…"

Scorpius took a seat in the empty orchestra studio and tucked his violin under his chin. He scanned the composition in front of him and began to play. It was the Concerto Violin in D major, Op. 35 III: Finale—Allegro Vivacissimo, by Tchaikovsky. The selection was spirited and frighteningly fast. Scorpius had no doubt that his father had chosen it for the sole purpose of challenging the students, and perhaps as a bit of intimidation as well.

As much as Scorpius knew that Draco disliked the Old Man, Scorpius often felt that his father often unconsciously emulated him in many ways. Though Draco was always fair and kind to his son, Draco could be stern and uncompromising. From an early age, Scorpius had become accustomed to a rigorous study and rehearsal regimen, in keeping with the Malfoy reputation for presenting themselves as paragons of distinction. He was startled to hear applause when he finished playing.

"You laying claim to my place?" Marcus pushed away from the door, making his way around the chairs, and taking a seat beside him at the first desk.

"Are you absolutely certain it's your seat?" Scorpius looked at him sideways. Marcus laughed.

"I hope you aren't insinuating that Daddy plays favorites," he replied, arching a brow.

"I can assure you, he doesn't—at least not in matters such as this. My grandfather had a penchant for throwing his weight around in order to open doors of opportunity for Father. Unfortunately, such favors tended to cause him more harm than good in the long run. As such, Father firmly believes that one should be cautious of preference that has not been earned."

"Good to know," Marcus nodded. "So, listen. I was wondering if you were thinking about Solo and Ensemble. Are you going to enter?"

"You have met Father, yes?" Scorpius.

"Right, right. Anyway, I was talking to Saheli Prakesh about a flute quartet with her and your girl, Snape. You in?"

"How exactly would that work?" Scorpius gave him a skeptical look.

"We get together…rehearse a composition..." Marcus gave him a look that was both amused and exasperated.

"Yes, of course. I know that. I mean, you suggested a flute quartet. If I'm not mistaken, that's flute, cello, violin and viola."

"I am willing to concede to your limited range of instrumental experience—"

"Limited—"

"Joke. But I do play viola. It was actually my first instrument. We were thinking of Mozart's Flute Quartet number one, in D major—the allegro." The door opened, and Albus bustled into the studio.

"Hey, Scorp—oh. Sorry. I didn't—" Albus paused.

"It's alright, Albus. Is it time to leave?" Scorpius asked.

"Yeah, erm…"

"Wait—hold up—this your brother?" Marcus asked.

"No. This is Albus Potter. He's my best mate. It turns out, he's just moved here as well."

"Yeah? That's what's up. I'm Marcus."

"Hello." Albus smiled, self-consciously.

"Well, look. I'm out. I'll be late for crew. Just think about it, Malfoy. Let me know if you're in."

"No, I'm—I mean, yes-yes. I'd like that—erm—I mean, I'm in! I'm in."

"Bet!" Marcus stood, picking up his bag. "Hey, what are you guys doing Sunday? GHS is rowing against Grey's County Prep, up at the reservoir on Fleming Dam. A bunch of us are going to check out the competition."

"Sounds interesting. I'd have to ask Father," said Scorpius.

"Same," Albus replied.

"That's cool. Let me know." Marcus left.

"You're making friends," Albus remarked, looking after him. Scorpius began packing away his violin and music.

"So are you. I'd say Bella Cain is quite smitten." He smirked.

"Oh, piss off, Malfoy!" Albus grimaced.

"Merlin's beard, young Potter!" Draco entered the room. "For a moment there, I thought I was looking through a pensieve at your father and myself when we were boys."

"Dad said the two of you had a rather contentious relationship," Albus shouldered his bag.

"Contentious…is that how he put it?" Draco chuckled. "Are we ready?"

"I am," Scorpius replied, pushing his violin case down into his rucksack."

"Yeah. Dad texted and said he's in the parking lot."

"Afternoon, gentlemen!" Harry smiled as Draco, Scorpius and Albus entered the vehicle. "Did we all have a good first day?"

"It was okay?" Albus replied as he buckled his seatbelt.

"Just okay?" Harry struggled to keep the disappointment from his voice as he spoke. He had fervently hoped that his son would be more comfortable away from his magical peers. He glanced at him in the rearview.

"Well, I mean…yea. It's just school after all." Albus shrugged. "I've been asked to join the football team."

Harry stepped on the brakes a bit harder than he intended as they approached an intersection. Everyone jerked forward. Scorpius and Draco gasped.

"That's—oh, sorry everyone—Albus that's brilliant! Wait—you mean association football, right? Not-not American?" He gave Albus another wary glance in the mirror. Albus chuckled.

"Yeah, Dad. Soccer—reserve keeper. I have to get my kit before practice tomorrow. Coach says I'll need my own boots though."

"Okay. We'll get you sorted. What about you, Malfoys? Good day?"

"I thought muggle school would be different than magical school. Seems like it's pretty much the same," remarked Scorpius. "They use those electronic books for everything. It's pretty intimidating."

"I've no idea how to even make the damned thing operate!" Draco declared. "The young man who came to set it up must have thought I was a complete trogloldyte. I've never seen such a thing before! He was going on about surge suppressors and passwords and logins. What does that all mean?"

"It's all about protecting your data—your information," explained Harry. "It does seem daunting at first, but it isn't too terribly difficult to learn. Computers have become more and more user friendly than they once were."

"If you say so," Draco muttered, unconvinced.

"We can show you, Mr. Malfoy," Albus suggested. "Can't we, Dad?"

"No problem, kiddo."

"It's too much, Potter. You're already helping us with the appliances, and—"

"Well, technically, a computer is an appliance, and given what we discussed last night—"

"What did you discuss last night?" Albus asked.

"Adult conversation, Al." Harry quietly admonished, turning off the main boulevard and onto the winding road that led to their neighborhood.

"Father, Marcus Belton has asked me to join his quartet for the solo and ensemble competition."

"Excellent. Young Belton appears to be a fine violinist. What will you be performing?" Draco asked.

"Mozart's Flute Quartet number one, in D major. Allegro."

"Hm. Since when did a flute quartet feature two violins?" Draco asked.

"Marcus says he also plays viola."

"Does he? I'll make a note of that. And who will be playing cello and flute? I assume Miss Snape? I happened to notice that you seem to know one another."

"We met her at the Cains' fete."

"Ah. I see."

"Saheli Prakesh will be playing cello. She's in our literature class."

"Yes. Miss Prakesh is in the Strings class. Her sul tasto is breathtaking." Draco closed his eyes as he spoke. Harry scoffed.

"Okay."

They arrived home shortly, and Albus dragged Scorpius up to his room immediately, barely acknowledging his father when he informed him that he would be at the Malfoy's helping Draco with the appliances.

"What's going on?" Scorpius asked as Albus locked the door.

"I tried to tell you earlier, but you were in such a hurry."

"What?" Scorpius asked again.

"I—I think I did wandless magic," Albus exclaimed, his voice breathy and incredulous.

"You said that wasn't you!" Scorpius looked at him in confusion.

"Not that!" Albus insisted. "Before, when I was in physical education class."

"I don't follow." Scorpius gave him a blank look. Albus explained about the soccer scrimmage, and the realization that he hadn't had his wand on his person at the time.

"I was halfway to my next class when I realized it!" Albus blabbered. Scorpius gasped.

"Wait—are you positive?"

"I'm not in the habit of leaping five feet into the air, so…yeah, I think so. All I wanted was to not be embarrassed, and block the ball. I was thinking Ascendio Modicum, and then the ball hit me in the chest!"

"Okay, so have you tried it again? You sure, you weren't thinking about making Bella fall over?"

"Scorpius!" Albus gave him an exasperated look. He lifted his hands in concession.

"Okay! I believe you…but maybe you should try it again."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"Then you know you're meant to be some kind of footquaffle hero, or something."

"It's football!"

"Fine. Why don't you summon that pillow over there?" Scorpius pointed to one of the throw pillows on his couch. Albus gave him a skeptical look. "Go on then."

"Fine." Albus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pursing his lips. "Accio pillow!" The pillow on his bed quivered and remained in place. "Fuck. I knew it had to be too good to be true."

"Well, maybe you're just overthinking it."

"Dad says you have to mean it, when you cast a spell." Albus sighed, and flopped onto the bed. Scorpius sat down beside him, placing a hand on his thigh.

"And did you mean it?" he asked. Albus raised himself up, leaning on his elbows.

"I don't know. I thought I did."

"Albus, you have to have more confidence in yourself. If you believe that you did wandless magic, then you did." Scorpius reclined beside him, looking deeply into his green eyes. "I believe you," he said softly, giving his hand a squeeze. "Where's your wand?"

Albus withdrew his wand from his pocket. Scorpius took it and sat up. He gestured to the loveseat again. Albus let out a huff.

"Mean it!" Scorpius said. Albus exhaled slowly.

"Accio pillow!" he commanded. The pillow zoomed across the room and hit him in the middle. He gasped and looked to Scorpius. "I did it!" he breathed.

"Sepio Fluctus!" Harry touched his wand to the electrical panel in the mechanical room located on the ground floor of Draco's house. "I don't know if it works the same on distribution boards in the UK, as it is a charm of American origin," he said.

"What's a distribution board?" Draco asked, peering curiously over Harry's shoulder.

"Oh, I forgot. A consumer unit, or an electrical panel like this…" Harry glanced back at Draco as he closed the door on the front of the box. "…controls and distributes electrical energy throughout a property. Basically, it keeps your circuits from being overloaded. It's like…how our wands channel magical energy."

"So it works to—how did McGonagall put it—consolidate the effects for maximum outcome. Yes?"

"Something like that. Our magical energy tends to overload electrical circuits, so this charm works to shield your system. With American wizards and witches beginning to integrate into muggle society, only within the latter half of the last century, they have a bit greater affinity for their technology, thus the invention of this spell," Harry explained as Draco led him back up to the kitchen, on the main floor.

"Hm. Well, to be perfectly honest, I'm completely out of my depth. I haven't the faintest idea how any of these things operate. Even the sinks have me befuddled. Why is there only one tap?" Draco shrugged, turning about in the middle of the expansive kitchen. Harry smiled, leaning over the island counter.

"That one threw me for a bit of a loop as well. Even at my aunt and uncle's home, there were two taps. The Americans set up their plumbing in a rather ingenious fashion that allows the hot and cold water to mix, so you aren't scalding yourself when you wash." Harry went to the sink and lifted the faucet lever, setting it a bit left of center. "You just move it like so, and after a moment or two, the water begins to warm. The further left you move it, the hotter it will become. If you move it to the right, it becomes cooler."

Draco wore a look of wonder as he moved to the sink and placed his hands in the spray. He moved the lever left and then right, amazed at how quickly the temperature changed.

"Intriguing! And where is the fire built for cooking? I can't very well levitate a boiling pot all the way over there!" He pointed to the fireplace in the family room. "Besides, it seems ever so much smaller than the one in the kitchens at the Manor." Harry tried not to laugh, suppressing a smile as he turned off the tap.

"Draco, I absolutely cannot believe that you thought moving halfway 'round the world and taking up a muggle lifestyle would be a good idea!" he declared, leaning against the sink, his hands braced on the counter. The indignant look on Draco's face morphed into something different. "What is it? I was only joking, you know."

"No—it's…only—w-well, you've never called me Draco before."

"I—what?"

"No. Unless you've referred to me as a matter of record, you've never used my proper name."

"Haven't I?"

"In all these years, you've only ever addressed me directly as 'Malfoy.'" Draco looked at him curiously.

"Oh, well, I—" Harry was at a loss for words. He'd never taken the time to consider the formalities between himself and Draco, as they had been few and far between. Their relationship had been a contentious one from the very start. "I-I mean, we didn't exactly start off in the best of terms, did we? What with you and Ron having a go, and then Scabbers—erm Wormtail—biting Goyle, things couldn't have gone worse."

"Unbelievable! You honestly don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"We first met in Madam Malkin's shop."

"Did we?" Harry looked nonplussed.

"We did. You seemed approachable enough at first, and then your demeanor turned rather cool. I had no idea who you were at the time, of course."

"Ohh, yes! You made some rather unkind remark about Hagrid, if I recall."

"I suppose I didn't quite make the best impression. Everyone had made you out to be such a powerful wizard—defeating The Dark Lord from your cot—and I sincerely doubt that I would ever have imagined the handsome, tiny boy in the couturière's to be the same person." Draco was quiet a moment, and he stepped closer to Harry. His voice was low and somewhat hoarse when he spoke again. "I honestly wanted to get to know you better that day, even before I knew who you were."

"Merlin's pants! I did it!" Albus' voice was filled with awe.

"Try it again," Scorpius suggested.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The duvet rose from Albus' bed and hovered several inches above it. "Fucking hell!"

Scorpius threw his arms around Albus, tackling him onto the bed. The dark-haired wizard distracted, his duvet fell from the air, covering them. Both boys snickered.

"This is cozy," Albus remarked. He reached up to push the covers back, but Scorpius caught his hand.

"It is cozy," he whispered. Scorpius rolled atop him and pressed his lips to his.

Albus felt himself grow warm all over as he opened his mouth to return the kiss. His heart pounded painfully in his chest and he felt a sensation below the belt that was new to him. Scorpius was breathless, and the warm duvet surrounding them made him feel giddy. He felt a gentle and persistent nudge against him, and goosebumps prickled his skin. He tentatively rocked his hips down against Albus.

"Ohmigod!" Albus gasped. He pushed Scorpius away. "Erm…we should—we should probably—" Scorpius rolled away from him, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"Yeah." He replied hoarsely, and cleared his throat.

Harry snorted. He raised a brow at Draco.

"You honestly wanted to be my friend?" he asked in disbelief.

"You may find it difficult to believe, I'm sure, but I was very much like Scorpius when I was young. I didn't have very many friends—well, I had associates—the right sort of acquaintances, who were hand-picked by my father. Relationships were all about establishing one's influence. I hadn't a single true friend—a confidant in whom I could place my trust." Draco traced over the veins in the marble with his fingertip, before assuming a similar stance to Harry's, their shoulders almost touching. "When Father found out that you would be attending Hogwarts, he encouraged me to get to know you. He thought your fame and obvious power would make you someone to whom a strong association would be valuable."

"I'll bet," Harry snorted.

"I didn't know who you were that day, in Madam Malkin's. I just took one look at you and thought to myself that you were someone I wanted to know—maybe someone who might like me for me, and not for what I could do for him." Harry felt Draco's hand touch his, and glanced down. He looked up sharply at Draco.

"Father! Daad!" Scorpius and Albus shouted as they burst into the house. The question on the tip of Harry's tongue evaporated as both men moved apart.

"In the kitchen, Scorpius. Please do not shout." A moment later, both boys appeared in the room from the butler's pantry.

"Sorry. Are we having dinner?" he asked.

"I'm starved!" Albus exclaimed.

"I am afraid the cupboard is yet bare, son. I'll have something sorted shortly," Draco replied with more confidence than he'd felt.

He'd brought a small hamper of foodstuffs when they departed from Malfoy Manor, and fortunately, they'd eaten their fill the previous night while at the Cains'. Harry's invite had sorted them for breakfast that morning, and he found the cafeteria at Lakeshore to provide a palatable midday meal. Now, he wasn't certain how to proceed, given that conjuring food was one of the principal exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

"It sounds to me like you're in need of groceries," said Harry.

"Groceries. Of course. Is there a butcher on the high street?" Draco asked.

"There's a supermarket or two in town," Harry chuckled.

"What's that?"

"Imagine if you took Diagon Alley and placed it into a brightly lit hall—minus the magic—you'd have a superstore like Asda," said Albus. "Do they have an Asda here, Dad?"

"Ah, no, Al. There's a similar store, as I'm told. It's called Walmart."

A few minutes later, Scorpius and Draco were gazing around in wonder at the myriad choices for food, clothing and other sundries available in the superstore.

"There are smaller, stores which sell mainly groceries, and specialty shops that provide high end selections. Harlowe Cain swears by a shop called Delish which she claims sells international meats and cheeses," Harry explained. He examined a flank steak before placing it into the cart.

Scorpius stared in awe at the television display in the electronics department.

"It's like a cinema in a portrait!" he exclaimed as Albus dragged him away to look at the sports equipment.

They returned to Shoreline Road a little over an hour later, laden with groceries, household supplies, and a bicycle for Scorpius. Harry attempted to explain non-magical currency and electronic payment to Draco, as they put away his purchases.

"So the little drawings are equivalent to…Galleons? And the coins are like Sickles?"

"Roughly. It may be easier to compare them to the Dragots."

"I am beginning to wonder if I might have considered bringing along one of the elves," Draco mused, staring at the food in the refrigerator.

"My god, how the wealthy are useless!" Harry muttered under his breath. "Draco, didn't you receive an Outstanding grade on your potions O.W.L.?"

"Naturally." Draco closed the refrigerator, and turned to him with an inquisitive expression. "Why?"

"Well, cooking is essentially the same as potion-making. You follow a recipe, or experiment with your own combinations of ingredients to create an mouthwatering meal."

"Really?"

"Mm-hm!" Harry summoned a book from the last shopping bag. "I bought this for you." He opened the cookbook on the counter and Draco gave it an appraising look. He flipped a few pages, examining the colorful and tempting photographs that accompanied many of the recipes.

"That looks interesting," Draco pointed to a photograph and its accompanying recipe.

"It's quite tasty, and very popular in the United States," said Harry. "Erm, you'll have to get your hands a bit icky for that."

"Well, I promised Scorpius that I'd learn, so…" Draco shrugged, and exhaled a deep breath. "Do we have all of the ingredients?"

"Albus! Scorpius!"

"Ah, fuck me!" Albus groaned as Bella Cain hopped off her pier and trotted across the short strip of beach that separated their property from the Malfoys'.

"Hello, Bella." Scorpius gave her a weak smile.

"What's up?" Albus nodded.

"I heard you made the soccer team," she said.

"Erm, yeah. Reserve keeper." He shrugged nonchalantly. She sat down, squeezing herself between them.

"That is soo awesome! Anyway, Elena Gomez is having her Quinceañera Saturday night at the club. Do you want to be my escort?"

"What's a quinceañera?" asked Scorpius.

"Oh, it's like a sweet sixteen, but Hispanic girls have theirs to celebrate their fifteenth birthday."

"Oh." Scorpius nodded, still bemused. He looked to Albus, who also shrugged.

"What about Tucker?"

"What about him?" Bella tossed her hair.

"I-I thought he was your boyfriend."

"Well, so did I, before I saw him making out with Callie Jones last night, behind his boathouse!" She frowned.

"Oh. Well, I-I don't know. I don't think my dad will let me. I have to work at the shop on weekends."

"Work? Why?"

"Because knowing the family business prepares one to take over in the future, and substantially reduces the potential for a hostile takeover," Scorpius explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You sound like my da-a-a-a-aagh!" she shrieked, ducking away suddenly and landing in the water with a splash. "What the hell?" she spluttered when she broke the surface, staring at the large raptor on Albus' hand. "Is that an owl?"

"This is Fancy," said Albus. He tucked the envelope that he'd retrieved from the bird in the confusion into his back pocket, and raised his arm. "Would you like to meet her?"

"Oh my god! No!" Bella splashed away from them. Fancy took off, circling above them, before she soared away.

"W-where's it going?" Bella asked, looking about nervously, as she treaded water.

"Hunting, probably," Albus shrugged. Bella finally swam back to the pier and climbed up onto the dock.

"Hunting?"

"Yea-ah. That's what birds of prey tend to do." Albus and Scorpius looked at her as if she was a complete idiot.

"Who has an owl for a pet?" She twisted her hair, to wring the water from it, and slicked it back.

"Everyone in my family has one," Albus said.

"We have six more in the aviary back at Malfoy Manor," Scorpius added.

"Malfoy Manor?"

"Our estate in Wiltshire." Bella gave him a look of renewed wonder.

"Do you live in a castle?" she asked.

"Wel—ah—no-o. I—not exactly. It-it's a manor house." Scorpius replied.

"So, you're like really rich?" she asked. He shrugged uneasily, afraid that her line of questioning might lead him to say something that he shouldn't. Bella turned to Albus. "What about you? Do you live on an estate back home too?"

"Ah, no. We have a house in London," he replied. "Dad inherited it from his godfather."

"Oh." Bella squeezed the hem of her shirt. "Is it big?"

"Why are you so nosey?" Scorpius asked.

"I'm not nosey!" she insisted. "I'm just—"

"Scorpius! Albus! Are you out there?" Harry called. The three teens got to their feet.

"Coming, Dad!" Albus called. "We've got to go."

"Ask your dad about Elena's party!" Bella called as he and Scorpius eagerly mounted the stairs back up the hillside.

"Right-o!"

"You're not seriously going to escort her, are you?" Scorpius asked when they were out of earshot.

"Not on your life!" Albus avowed.

"You made all this?" Scorpius took another large bite of his burger, savory the juicy ground beef, mingled with the flavor of melted cheese, fresh lettuce and tomato. "Grmvr wdb sknlzd!" he mumbled, his mouth full.

"Honestly, Scorpius. Do show the decorum with which you were raised." Draco gave his son an exasperated look. Harry suppressed a grin.

"It is delicious, Mr. Malfoy. Almost as good as Dad makes." Albus complimented him.

"Thank you, Albus. I did have some help from your father."

"The only thing missing is butterbeer," he said.

"That would be perfect!" Scorpius agreed.

"I hear that Cervecería Cuarón brews a pretty good bottled butterbeer. I ordered some by owl," said Harry.

"Erm, Father, Marcus Belton invited us to attend the regatta."

"A regatta?" Draco paused, a french fry on his fork.

"It's a rowing competition. Greyswood High School versus Grey's County Prep, at the reservoir on Fleming Dam," said Albus.

"Sunday," said Scorpius.

"May we go, please?" Albus begged.

"Sunday? I don't know, Al. We're attending church."

"Church?" Albus gawked at his father.

"You say that as if it is a foreign concept," Harry replied.

"But it isn't Christmas, or Easter!"

"I know, but we've been invited." Harry sprinkled more vinegar over his fries. "They really aren't perfect until it's well penetrated," he remarked to Draco.

"Why do I have to go?" Albus whined.

"Albus." Harry lifted a brow. Albus pouted. "You can go afterwards, if it's not too late."

"Fine."

"Care to join us, gentlemen? Or do you attend church on a regular basis?"

"The Malfoys have been Catholic since Armand Malfoy arrived in England with William I. There is even an oratory on the grounds of Malfoy Manor, though in the last decade or so, we have been somewhat lapsed in regular attendance. It is, after all, rather difficult to retain an officiant with a soulless dark wizard in residence. However, Astoria insisted upon celebrating mass as often as she was up to it." A slight pall fell over the table for a moment, before Draco spoke again. "I think we will join you, Potter."

"But—" Scorpius protested.

"I am certain, Scorpius, that there will be plenty of time for fraternization afterwards."

Scorpius grimaced, but said no more. Arguing with his father would only result in a loss of privileges.

"So, haven't you boys got homework?" Harry asked.

"I submitted mine during maths," said Albus.

"I'm still trying to figure out how to turn on the computer," Scorpius moaned, slouching in his chair.

"C'mon, I'll show you." Albus grabbed his hand, and dragged him out of his chair, leaving their parents alone. Harry got to his feet and began to gather the dishes.

"Do you ever use a wand?" Draco asked.

"I have been known to perform magic from time to time," Harry grinned. He flicked his wand and the dishwasher opened, the racks rolling out. "However, I am not the one who needs lessons to fit into the muggle world." Another flick of the wand, sent the dishes flying into the appliance. He beckoned for Draco to follow, and demonstrated how to add detergent and start the wash cycle.

"Hmm. I must say that muggles have adapted very well to a life without magic. Drink?" he offered. Harry nodded, and Draco poured them each a glass of wine before they made their way out to the large patio that overlooked the pool and the sloping gardens above the lake.

A few sailboats drifted leisurely past, their subtle wakes shattering the orange reflection of the setting sun on the water. Harry leaned against the rail, looking out across the water.

"I erm, I hope I didn't unearth any painful memories over dinner. It seems that you loved Astoria deeply."

"Astoria was quite a lovely woman. It is cruel that Scorpius should lose his mother while still yet a boy."

"What about you?" Harry sipped his wine, resting his hip against the rail.

"I wasn't certain about her at first. Ours was arranged, as is tradition. Frankly, I was rather surprised that her father consented to the betrothal. I'm sure you'll find it no surprise that few families wish to be connected with a former Death Eater. However, Astoria, too, seemed changed by all that had happened. I did finally find someone in whom I could share my true feelings…and my regrets. Mother and Father were predictably disappointed, and attempted to dissuade me from asking for her hand. Lucius and I rowed for days before the wedding." He sipped his wine. "I loved Astoria. It wasn't an all-consuming erotic passion, but more like a…a profound type of friendship."

"She understood you," Harry offered.

"Yes! Yes, that's it! My entire life, I have felt alone. It doesn't matter how many fawning sycophants surrounded me, no one actually cared for me. No one ever listened to me before Astoria. Do you know that she ignored the healer's warnings about the danger of giving birth, because she didn't want me to be alone?"

"Really?"

"They don't know that I overheard them, but Astoria told Scorpius to look after me. She was so frail at that point. We all knew that she didn't have long. She told our son that I needed him more than he needed me. Quite honestly, that was the one time that I was ever angry with her. She was asking too much of someone so young!" Draco emptied his glass. "I know that I've spoiled him terribly. I simply cannot allow him to feel that he must take on such a monumental responsibility! Can you imagine such a burden?"

"You're asking the 'Chosen One'?" Harry made air-quotes. Draco conceded with a nod.

"Mea Culpa." He rested his elbows on the rail. "I don't know if I'll ever find another perfect friend." He sighed. Harry placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You never know when that someone will appear. That's the thing about a perfect love, it's there when you least expect it."

Draco stood, searching his eyes in the fading light. Harry held his gaze with a questioning expression.

CLIFFHANGER! So, things are perhaps about to become serious between Albus and Scorpius, despite Bella's best efforts to obtain favor with Al. But what about Draco and Harry? And how will things turn out at Second Salem Church? Stay tuned...