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Things had been going well for the recently reunited branches of the Malfoy family, and some kind of meal became a standing weekly invitation using alternating locations. Rarely did they try to eat in a public venue; between the reporters and curious passerby, the family suffered constant interruptions. One person that accosted them had been strongly anti-muggleborn, and Draco found himself in the sticky position of explaining the term "mudblood" to his son. Scorp found the concept to be completely idiotic; if anyone saw what his mum could do, how could they doubt her as a witch? The proclamation made on his grandparents' first visit was restated: adults made no sense. Lucius nodded sagely at this and quickly distracted his grandson with the dessert menu; Scorpius had inherited the Malfoy sweet tooth, much to Nana and Grandpa Granger's chagrin.
A recent visit at Hermione and Draco's found Scorpius out-of-sorts because he hadn't been able to use his training broom that day. Draco predicted that Scorpius would be much like he was in his youth - when things had bothered Draco, he'd taken to the air to think. Unfortunately, the younger Malfoys' house bordered on Muggle London, and it just wasn't safe to let the boy fly. So the broom stayed at Malfoy Manor, and Scorpius practiced there regularly, under the watchful eyes of his father and grandfather. Hermione was still put out about the whole flying thing, but she understood that it was a large part of Wizarding culture, whether she'd ever taken to it or not. And it was cute to see Draco so proud - he was convinced that Scorpius would be a Seeker once he got to Hogwarts. When Harry heard about Scorpius and the new broom, he laughed until Hermione smacked him in the shoulder. Then he told her to tell Draco that if he ever wanted help training Scorpius, just say the word, as Harry had been Gryffindor's youngest Seeker in 100 years. Mione elected not to share Draco's response with Harry. It wasn't necessary; Potter had guessed what it would be, right down to the expletives employed. Malfoy was quite put out to discover that he had become so predictable.
During the Manor visits, while the men of the family were outside playing with their brooms (Draco rolled his eyes whenever his wife said that), Hermione and Narcissa would take the opportunity to discuss anything that came to mind. Both women learned quickly that politics was not a good choice, as the younger witch was exceptionally passionate about the matter, but her opinion was the polar opposite of her mother-in-law's.
Today, another touchy subject had been raised: the possibility of having more children. When asked about the fact that Draco was an only child, Cissa quietly disclosed that she had suffered six miscarriages to get Draco. In fact, Hermione was surprised to learn that Draco had originally been a twin. Unfortunately, the other baby, also a boy, was stillborn. She was worried about Narcissa's feelings until the older woman looked at her with a twinkle in her eye, asking if Hermione could picture a world with two Draco Malfoys in it. The elder witch teasingly suggested that Merlin had mercy on the world, and only inflicted one such creature upon society. Hermione was greatly relieved to see the topic handled with such humor and grace. She informed her mother-in-law that there had been two spontaneously aborted attempts before Scorpius, and the doctor stated during her third trimester with Scorp that any future pregnancies would endanger her health. It was for the best, according to Hermione, as she and Draco were both only children. To be frank, she shuddered at the idea of having a brood like the Weasleys. Malfoy entered the room at this precise moment and said that the idea of Weasley children in general gave him nightmares.
Lucius and Scorpius followed closely behind Draco, eager for lunch. Lucius made sure to cast a strong heating charm on the room, as it was October and getting chilly.
"Grandfather Malfoy?"
"Yes, Scorpius?"
"Halloween's this Wednesday. Do you and Grandmother Malfoy have Halloween?"
Lucius brightened. "All Hallow's Eve is, indeed, an important holiday to any Wizarding family. Draco, have you been instilling magical traditions in my grandson already?"
Scorpius looked confused. "Traditions? Is that like trick-or-treating? Do you and Grandmother hand out candy?"
"Erm, no. Candy?" Lucius shot an inquisitive glance at Hermione.
"On Halloween, we pick up Harry and Ginny's kids and take them trick-or-treating in Muggle London. They have a ball."
The wizard appeared to mull this over. "A ball? Aren't they a bit young for one? Perhaps it's less formal. And explain 'trick-or-treating,' if you please."
Hermione grinned at him. "Not a ball meaning a formal dance, Lucius. I meant that the children have a lot of fun. They put on costumes, and then go door to door, ringing the doorbells and shouting 'Trick or Treat!' If the owner of the house opens the door and gives the children candy, the kids go to the next house. If they don't, some children have been known to play a trick by soaping windows, or tangling bathroom tissue in the trees, among other things."
"Hm...Sanctioned extortion or revenge, with candy as payment. Do I have that right?"
Hermione smirked. "For all intents and purposes, yes."
"And one must be a child to participate in this?" Her father-in-law's eyes had taken on a dangerous gleam.
"Correct." Hermione threw a quick glance at Draco and Narcissa, and it was obvious they were both working hard not to burst out laughing. "Lucius, it's also called 'begging for candy.' Are you going to have an issue with a Malfoy begging?"
"No. Extortion isn't the same as begging. It's been standard operating procedure in the Malfoy family for generations, in fact." The elder Malfoy surveyed the table thoughtfully; Narcissa wore a mixture of amusement and resignation on her face, Draco was smirking and shaking his head slightly, and the vengeful sadistic fiend had her face in her palm.
"Pureblood families never participate in anything like trick-or-treating. The concept is most interesting." Lucius' lips were pursed pensively, and he had a faraway expression.
"Darling..." Cissa's voice carried toward him in soft reprimand. He ignored her and turned back to his favorite six year-old.
"What costume will you wear for Halloween, Scorpius?"
"I wanted to go as Harry Potter, but Mummy said that no one outside our world would know who he is, and Daddy kept making a funny face." As the child said, Daddy had a distinctly constipated expression.
Scorpius shrugged. "So I said I'd go as an astronaut."
The elder man's head tilted. "An astro-what?"
"Astronaut, Grandfather! They're Muggles that get into spaceships and go to places like the Moon!"
"The Moon? You don't say." Lucius' tone had become somewhat patronizing as he turned to Hermione. "He's kidding, right? Wizards haven't even managed that."
Hermione smiled slightly. "He's quite serious. If you're interested, I can get you some books about it. American Muggles landed on the Moon in 1969."
"Huh. Muggles. By all means, please do bring me something on that." He sat back, still stunned for a second before he remembered his original line of questioning.
"How long does this trick-or-treating last?"
Draco answered, "About two hours. Some of the older children will go for longer, but at this age, anything longer than a couple of hours is a bit much."
"And, hypothetically, how much candy can one obtain in a couple of hours?" Elegant, long-fingered hands were casually steepled on the table.
"Scorp usually comes back with a pillowcase full. Maybe a kilogram, or slightly more."
"Would you excuse us for a moment? Cissa, love, a word please." The elder Malfoys left the room.
Hermione looked at Draco, mock-stricken. "We've created a monster, haven't we?"
"Nonsense, love. We've done nothing of the sort." His wife appeared relieved.
"Father's been a monster for years."
Hermione's ever-so-dignified in-laws returned and resumed their seats.
"Fiend?"
"Lucy?" Granger-Malfoy was smiling slightly, though still wary.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. By any chance, would you have room for two more on Halloween?"
"You want to watch Scorpius go trick-or-treating?"
"Actually, we thought we would, er, keep him company, as it were."
"You wouldn't." A grin began to stretch itself across the Muggleborn witch's face.
Lucius arched one perfect eyebrow. "Thus far you've seen me play on playground equipment and chase peacocks. So trust me: I would."
Hermione laughed in spite of herself then thought of something. "Lucius, you said room for two more?"
Narcissa wore a lopsided smile as she gazed fondly at her mate. "He's talked me into accompanying them."
Draco leaned forward at this. "Mother, what do you mean 'accompanying?"
"It's quite simple, son. We have more than enough Polyjuice, and it can't be that hard to pick up a Muggle girl-child's hair for your mother. It will be a great experience for both of us. We'll get to see a Muggle tradition in action."
"Oh, bosh! You just want free candy, you old snake! And roping Mother into helping you? I can't believe you!"
"Draco, let's be honest. We all know I've done much worse in the past." Lucius looked slightly ashamed. "Besides, I think your mother could have some fun if she's willing to let go of her dignity for a little while."
"And you get two pillowcases of candy."
Lucius ducked his head slightly. "There is that. Draco, haven't you ever thought of going as a child on that night?"
"No need. We have a 'candy tax' in our house."
"A candy tax. I don't want to hear another self-righteous word out of you, boy."
"Lucius," Hermione broke in, "If you and Narcissa are going, we need to set some ground rules."
"Such as?"
"We've never done anything to the houses that don't give out candy."
"Nothing?"
"Well, I suppose we could leave a strongly-worded note..." She worried at her lip for a moment, and Lucius went in for the kill.
"As I recall, it's called trick-or-treat. Not note-or-treat."
"But-"
"Don't worry. I promise not to do anything too terrible, and nothing permanent."
"Have you thought of the fact that it's a Muggle area? Any trick has to be magic-free."
"Good point. Luckily we have a few days to come up with something."
"Draco?" Her husband gave a good-natured shrug. Hermione raised her hands in defeat. "I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into this, Lucius. Fine, I'll owl Harry and let him know we're bringing two extra."
"Splendid. Next: costumes. What would you recommend, Scorpius?"
"You could be a vampire, a cowboy, a pirate, a king, or a ghost. Or lots of other stuff. Grandmother could be a ballerina or a princess."
"Yes. I like the idea of going as royalty."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You would."
Later that night as the younger Malfoys prepared for bed, Hermione had a sudden thought. "Draco, we forgot to tell them that we usually start at my parents' house!"
"No, love. You forgot. I remembered perfectly."
"You're a horrible son. You know that, right?"
"My father cheated playing a child's game against a six year-old." Draco put a hand to his forehead and swooned dramatically. "I'm a product of my environment. I blame society." He dropped his hand, and smiled at his wife. "Warn your parents."
"And yours?" She worried a bit about Narcissa.
"Let's keep them on their toes. I want to see just how fast old Lucius can think."