A/N: Just wanted to note that this has been reposted from AO3 (I go by avandelay there).
Draco fought the urge to Stupefy Headmistress McGonagall, if for nothing else than for his own sanity.
Her long, pointy fingernails continued to tap against the surface of her wooden desk, amplified by the resounding silence.
To avoid visiting Azkaban, Draco shifted his focus to Rose, the waifish Fourth Year to his right.
One week ago, Draco received a letter from the Headmistress requesting that he visit her to discuss Scorpius' behavior in relation to his classmate, Rose. Surname omitted.
At first, Draco didn't think anything of the omission as his primary concern was, of course, Scorpius; however, it now served as an interesting distraction from his unpleasant surroundings.
In the letter, McGonagall expressed her desire to have all parties present, including Rose's parents. Draco glanced over at the two empty armchairs beside her and grimaced. So, they also were to blame for his present misery.
His eyes traveled back to Rose, who slumped further down in her seat. She was a Fourth Year, like Scorpius, but a Gryffindor, unlike Scorpius. Assuming at least one of her parents attended Hogwarts, they probably would have been a Gryffindor, too.
Perhaps that's why she looked so familiar… Yet, with her arms crossed, face drawn into a scowl, it was hard to imagine her among the Gryffindors he knew.
"Ahem," McGonagall uttered with a cough. "Goodness, excuse me," she added before rummaging through her desk drawers by hand.
Draco cringed at the sound.
Just as he was about to lose it, Azkaban Be Damned, she finally emerged with a single lemon drop and popped it into her mouth.
"Would anyone care for a lemon drop? I have plenty more."
Draco, Scorpius, and Rose slowly shook their heads in unison.
McGonagall shrugged and then proceeded to chew on the hard candy, blissfully unaware of its effect on Draco, who could hear each and every bite with unnatural clarity.
According to McGonagall, Scorpius and Rose had developed a 'concerningly contentious relationship' as of late. He ruminated on the thought some more, looking between the two children with unbridled curiosity.
"So," McGonagall began once more. "Apologies," she cleared her throat and then continued, voice laden with excess moisture. "I hear we're due for an early winter."
Draco blinked once, unsure how to proceed after such an unnaturally mundane interruption. Seeing how Scorpius and Rose hardly acknowledged her, he sighed and took the lead. "Yes, and a well-needed one if you ask me."
McGonagall's entire face softened at his response. "Oh, yes, yes, indeed! Unfortunately, I was not built for the heat."
"Me neither," Draco remarked with a reluctant smirk. "I'm bloody useless when it's above 20 degrees."
The Headmistress appeared as if she were about to laugh when a squeaky voice interrupted instead.
"And yet our Minister of Magic refuses to acknowledge how detrimental our lack of support has been for the environment," Rose remarked cooly. "Classic."
Draco questioned if he had heard her correctly, turning to look at the girl in both astonishment and confusion.
Scorpius was the first to respond. "Please, Non-Magical People are more than capable of solving Global Warming on their own."
"Muggles can't do this on their own," Rose scoffed. "They might think they can, but it'll take them eons to solve it, and by then, we'll all be swimming with the Merpeople. If they'll even have us."
"You do realize our ecological footprint is a fraction of theirs, right? Besides, we have far more to lose by collaborating with them," Scorpius added with an eye-roll that filled Draco with an odd sense of pride.
"What does accountability have to do with anything when the literal World is at stake?" She remarked fiercely.
"Who said anything about accountability?"
"You, actually, about 15 seconds ago," Rose quipped. "And you know, you can say the word Muggle, right?"
Draco did not, in fact, know that 'Muggle' was still appropriate vernacular. According to Scorpius, Non-Magical People was the preferred terminology these days.
"I," Scorpius became redder than her hair. "I'll stick with Non-Magical People, thanks."
Rose was very quick to mimic his response in a high-pitched, nearly unintelligible voice.
"Wow, very mature, Rosie—" Scorpius attempted to reply over her as the doors to McGonagall's office burst open to reveal a harried Hermione Granger and portly Ronald Weasley.
"We are so, so sorry, Professor—"
"Headmistress McGonagall," said Granger, seamlessly correcting Weasley. "Please accept our sincerest apologies. Unfortunately, Ron and I got caught up in some last-minute work things that took far longer to complete than expected."
Draco immediately looked at Rose, who had gone completely white. In her blanched state, it all started to make sense to him—the hair, the candor, the know-it-all-ness…
"That's quite alright, dear. We were just discussing the…" McGonagall carefully paused. "Weather. Now, please take a seat."
The Weasleys (he presumed) hurried towards the empty armchairs, nearly trampling each other in the process.
Once they were situated, McGonagall pressed further. "I cannot thank you all enough for taking the time to meet with me today. I know how difficult it can be," she glanced towards the blushing couple. "To step away from work obligations, but I can assure you that today's conversation will be both productive and enlightening."
For the first time since entering the room, Draco could feel the Weasleys' eyes on him with a familiar, burning intensity he'd long forgotten. Glancing in their direction, his eyes landed on Mr. Weasley first, whose vacant expression was replaced with lukewarm hatred.
How predictable.
Then, he moved on to Mrs. Weasley, who presented a far less severe disposition. Had he spent more time looking at her, perhaps he would have been able to decipher its intended meaning.
"As I have mentioned in my previous correspondences, Scorpius and Rose have not had the most gracious start to their Fourth Year."
The children scoffed simultaneously. Draco, not daring to look at the Weasleys again, shared a concerned look with McGonagall instead.
"Furthermore, numerous Professors have urgently requested that their schedules be adjusted so that they are no longer in the same classes. Seeing how this is not possible, we need to come to an agreement."
"We're right here, you know," Rose said quietly.
"Rose Elizabeth," Granger all but gasped.
"What?" She pressed on. "What's the point of having us here if she won't even acknowledge us."
"Rosie," Weasley interjected, though its effect fell short—as if it was an afterthought more than a disciplinary warning.
Draco had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling.
"That's a fair question," McGonagall reasoned gently.
"Fair or not fair, you should never interrupt the Headmistress when she's speaking." Granger finished with a huff, crossing her arms against her chest.
Rose had adopted a similar position, which sent a shock of nostalgia through him like he'd traveled back in time. She looked almost exactly like Granger when she was her age—bushy-haired, buck-toothed, and utterly insufferable.
Draco was almost starting to feel sorry for Ron Weasley.
He was also starting to feel extremely proud of Scorpius for remaining so level-headed in the face of such a tyrant.
"And what about him, then?" Weasley spoke up, eyeing Draco as if he were somehow to blame for the whole thing.
"Who, me?" Draco remarked with an uncontrollable scoff.
"Both of you." Said Weasley, his voice laden with malice.
Draco's right hand twitched for his wand. "If you wish to address my son, then do so properly," he said.
Weasley faltered for a moment before he looked over at Scorpius. "Apologies, son. I didn't mean to put you on the spot."
"Uh," Scorpius looked cautiously between the two men. "Alright."
"Scorpius, is it?" Weasley added after a beat.
"Yes."
"Ron Weasley," he reached his hand out to Scorpius, who shook it reluctantly.
"Scorpius Malfoy."
"Hermione Granger-Weasley," remarked a shrill voice. All eyes turned to look at Mrs. Granger-Weasley, whose lips were pulled into a thin, forced smile. "Pleasure to finally meet you."
Finally?
"Draco," she added, turning to look at him with the same uncomfortable expression. Her eyes struggled to stay on his, though, until the corners of her mouth finally slipped, revealing a frown.
She looked away almost immediately. "I…I hope all has been well."
Bullocks.
Granger then reached for Weasley's hand and squeezed it until he regurgitated a similar declaration.
"Yes, thank you. Same to you both." Draco managed to choke out.
McGonagall clasped her hands together, clearly pleased by the truce. "Good, perhaps we should have started there. Now, would either of you," she directed to Scorpius and Rose, "like to share, from your own perspective, what the main points of contention have been?"
"Sure," Rose announced, surprising no one that she was the first to speak. "Scorpius is overly sensitive and takes everything I say to heart."
"Wow," muttered Scorpius loudly.
"I also feel like our professors, mainly our male professors, have a deliberately shorter temper with me than with Scorpius. For instance, if I get a little lively during our discussions in class, I get reprimanded. If Scorpius or any of the other boys do the same, they're entirely overlooked."
Draco, now older and considerably wiser, couldn't help but feel sorry for Rose—despite what she had just said about his son.
He knew Scorpius could handle her; he was a Malfoy, after all.
Though, in truth, Scorpius was a bit softer than most of his paternal predecessors. One of the many traits he'd acquired from his mother.
At once, Draco was reminded of the small, dull ache that resided in the center of his chest, awakened only by the thought of Astoria.
"Calling it 'lively' is doing you a grave disservice, Rose." Scorpius glanced at Draco and offered him a brief, thin smile before continuing. "It's more like you go absolutely mad, like some feral beast."
Draco grinned the ache away; yes, Scorpius could most definitely handle her.
Rose gasped and nearly lunged forward with unbridled excitement. "See! See how he gets defensive and then insults me? Am I meant to just take it?"
The tone of her voice rivaled that of a juvenile Mandrake's, which both frightened and impressed Draco.
"You insulted me! You said I was overly sensitive—"
"Being sensitive is not an insult!"
"It is if you intend it to be!"
"Enough!"
Everyone stalled in the wake of McGonagall's booming voice.
"Had I not asked you both to attend today's meeting?"
The children nodded.
"Right, therefore, you are both to blame. Now, the possibility of expulsion still remains if we do not come to an agreement—"
"Expulsion? Headmistress—"
"Yes, Mrs. Granger-Weasley, expulsion—"
"You can't do that—"
"Obviously, Mr. Malfoy, I cannot expel Scorpius myself, but our Head of Slytherin has agreed to follow through with my recommendation, so I implore you all to behave."
And behave they did.
Nearly an hour later, Scorpius and Rose finally reached an agreement that pacified McGonagall, despite appearing to have aged her by several decades, at least.
The agreement was far less revolutionary than Draco had expected; essentially, Scorpius and Rose acknowledged the ways in which they both 'triggered' each other, followed by unenthusiastic apologies for past indiscretions.
Then, they agreed to work on their 'issues' independently for the rest of the term, each submitting essays on Anger Management and Healthy Communication Skills.
It was almost laughable; had they attended Hogwarts during Draco's time, they'd at the very least be serving detention in the Forbidden Forest.
As everyone gathered their belongings to leave, McGonagall called for the parents to stay behind. Draco found his eyes drawn back to Granger, who immediately looked away.
In a slightly less hostile environment, he could give her a proper once-over.
She looked about the same as he remembered three years ago at King's Cross Station. How boring, Draco thought, before glancing over at Weasley; at least he had the decency to lose some hair since then.
As for himself, time had mostly been kind save for Astoria's passing, which, for obvious reasons, devastated his mental and physical health.
Needless to say, Draco found it rather exasperating to look at Granger, who appeared to be immune to the effects of aging.
"Thank you all again—I don't anticipate this taking very long." Once the doors were closed, McGonagall continued. "First and foremost, I see a great deal of potential in Scorpius and Rose. They are both incredibly intelligent and well-liked among their peers."
She paused to look between them, brows suddenly furrowed. "I would hate for history to repeat itself, so I ask that you three make an effort to be cordial. Lead by example, so to speak."
In a moment of sheer depravity, Draco snickered like the insolent child he once was. The realization of what he'd done made his skin crawl.
"Is this amusing to you, Mr. Malfoy?" Asked McGonagall as her expression hardened to reveal the stern professor from his youth.
"No, not at all," he replied grimly.
"Good, because I don't recall your little feud with these two ending very well."
Unable to respond, Draco looked down at his shoes instead, cheeks ablaze.
"Now, to put this as plainly as possible, I will not stand for another division between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Not while I'm still Headmistress, is that clear?"
McGonagall paused before receiving three slow, reluctant nods. "Very good. I ask that you provide me with an update by the end of this week outlining how you intend to support Scorpius and Rose—"
"What, are you assigning us homework?" Asked Weasley with a quiet, hesitant chuckle.
Draco wished to strangle him.
"Indeed. Do you have any objections?"
He shook his head solemnly.
"Good. I look forward to hearing from you three very soon."