WRITTEN FOR THE HOUSES COMPETITION, YEAR 10, ROUND 5
House: Slytherin
Class: Prefect
Category: Standard
Word Count: 1536
Prompts: [Genre] Drama; [Time] Midnight
Warnings/Disclaimers: not what it looks like
The silence was deep and expectant; the atmosphere charged. No one dared move until the quiet shift of formal robes over the floor brought all eyes to the kneeling figure at the centre of the room.
He stilled under the weight of five disapproving stares and fixed his eyes on the ground before him. Nothing could be gained from looking up. He kneeled on the only part of the floor even slightly illuminated—his surroundings shrouded by shadows. Heavy curtains obscured all but one window, which was uncovered for the specific purpose of letting the light of the moon shine through its glass.
So he waited, his breaths sounding loud and ragged to his own ears until the clock struck midnight.
Twelve times the bell chimed.
As the last trill rang out, four people surged from the shadows behind the throne to dispose themselves in a half-circle around him.
Their leader, who had been sitting almost insouciantly as they all waited the witching hour, straightened and raised a hand. It was entirely unneeded as everyone's attention rarely swayed from the most powerful person in the room.
When the Dark Lord spoke, it was with the Dark Sect's hopes and admiration weighing each word.
"My most faithful," the Dark Lord began. "We reunite tonight for a joyful occasion. Young Malfoy has asked to join our ranks, and after weeks of careful consideration as we observed his con—conduct, we are ready to welcome him amongst us."
The four Death Eaters around Malfoy—the Dark Lord's most faithful—cheered loudly enough for a battalion.
Malfoy started breathing a little more easily. The "weeks of consideration", as the Dark Lord called them, had been torturous for him, filled with impossible tasks and harsh judgements from the wizards and witches he would soon call his peers.
The Dark Lord only had to raise a hand for silence to fall; the atmosphere turned once again ceremonious and expectant.
"Malfoy," his Lord said. "Do you swear to follow our rules, and never reveal anything that happens during our meetings to anyone else, and respect the hie—hierar—the hierarchy?"
Malfoy didn't hesitate.
"I do so swear," he murmured.
The Dark Lord rose from the throne and advanced steadily towards Malfoy, looming over him easily.
"Then, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, I her—hereby—"
"What is going on here?" Six faces turned towards the suddenly open door, squinting against the torchlight now penetrating the dimly lit room. "What are you doing still up? It's midnight!"
Scorpius was the first to move, jumping up so he wasn't the lone figure kneeling anymore, but it was too late. Their parents had appeared behind Ginny, who still held the door handle, and they'd all seen him.
"Muuuum!" Lily cried out, stomping her foot and catching the edge of her long robes with it.
"Don't whine, Lily," Harry said, studying the scene in front of him with a deepening frown. "You should have been in bed hours ago. And what's with the get-up?"
Lily grabbed the sides of her dark robes as if it were a dress, swaying faintly back and forth and clearly hoping her natural cuteness would get her out of trouble. Albus stood to her left and scuffed his feet against the floor, the only one of Harry's children to look even remotely guilty.
"Scorpius."
The young boy cringed upon hearing his name, looking beyond the Potters and towards his own father with the utmost reluctance.
"Son, what is the meaning of this?"
Scorpius had to bite his lip almost through to avoid spilling everything right away, and that was before Lily stepped on his foot to remind him of the oath he'd just sworn.
Harry breathed out a laugh, and even Ron, who had been standing frozen behind Harry's shoulder, unbent enough to murmur, "Subtlety, thy name is Potter."
Harry choked as he tried to disguise slightly hysterical laughter with a cough. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, and Harry straightened up and pretended to be more in control than he could reasonably be after the dent they'd made in his firewhisky stash.
"Don't think we didn't see you, miss," he told Lily sternly. Then he turned his gaze on all of the children. "One of you better start talking right now."
Harry's Auror voice made Hugo fall down on his behind and start sniffling. He was only a couple of months younger than Lily but clearly made of different stuff. Hermione had been quietly cataloguing the situation—at a significantly slower pace than usual because of how much she'd appreciated Harry's firewhisky—but immediately jumped in front of Ginny and went to console her youngest when she saw tears.
"He's overtired," she said. "Of course, he is—it's the middle of the night."
Draco looked at the way Hugo immediately snuggled into his mother's arms, hiding his face in her shirt, and thought that that boy was just the cleverer of the group. The idea that Weasley's son could be more sly than his own rankled. Then Astoria hugged him around the waist and Draco sighed.
"Lily Luna," Ginny started. "I know you're behind this somehow. I suggest you share your version of the facts before Rose breaks. You know she's the weak link."
Rose's lip was, in fact, trembling. James twitched towards her like he wanted to slap a hand over her mouth, and Harry took a step forward and glared him into submission. Lily pouted. The only sound in the room was Hermione shushing Hugo for several long moments, then a sigh big enough to shake Lily's entire body broke the dam and she started talking.
"It is so not my fault," she started with a long-suffering air completely at odds with her high voice and childish face. "I gave Albus the chance, I did, but he didn't want to, and you were the one to start bringing Scorpius around anyway, so we had to do it, and it's your fault too—
"Lily," Harry interrupted, eyes roaming over the largest bedroom in the house, the one the kids always wanted to have sleepovers in. The beds were all pushed towards the walls, and a single chair took place of honour in the room, a few pillows over the seat and a heavy blanket covering the whole thing. He looked once again over the kids. They were all wearing long, dark robes. Scorpius had been kneeling in front of Lily, who had tied her hair up in a tight bun. He couldn't believe what his brain was offering up as the most likely explanation. "Were you… playing Voldemort?"
"It has to be a Parselmouth!" Lily shouted in earnest, pleading with her father. "And Albus is too chicken!"
James, the only one of Harry's children not to inherit parseltongue, looked at his brother like he expected Albus to defend himself. Albus shrugged instead, wincing a little.
"It's true," he admitted. "I didn't want to be Voldemort."
"Who would?" Ron whimpered. The last time Harry had heard his voice so high had been during puberty.
"Lily's a great Voldemort!" Rose defended.
Lily puffed up with pride, making it easier for Scorpius to hide behind her. Draco wondered what his son hoped to achieve. He wasn't feeling especially charitable. He'd spent an evening in the company of Potters and Weasleys in order to let his firstborn son and heir socialise with other future Hogwarts students, only to be slapped in the face by Scorpius apparently reenacting his father's schoolboy's mistakes—as a gag, led by Potters and Weasleys.
He took a few deep breaths and looked away from Scorpius, towards the sweet picture of Granger with her son falling asleep on her lap. Maybe Hugo really was overtired instead of particularly clever then. Draco focused on the warm weight against his side to try and let go of the tension that had tightened his shoulders and back. He looked down. Astoria seemed ready to join Hugo and fall asleep on her feet.
What the hell, he thought, laughing a little. It wasn't like he could really have expected their kids to turn out normal.
And if he wanted the reason for that, he only had to turn to the gaggle of Potters still screaming at the top of their lungs well after midnight.
"Why were you pretending to be Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"
"It was Scorpius's initiation!"
Draco sniffed in indignation at that.
"Initiation to what? We've been organising playdates for months," he said.
Ron let out a strangled sound.
"Is that really what you want to focus on?"
Draco would have crossed his arms if he hadn't needed them to support his wife.
"It seems to me," he started with the haughtiest tone he could muster up after several more glasses of firewhisky than he would have accepted had the company been different. "That you've got the other thing covered."
"The other thing," Ron wheezed. "You mean the thing where our kids dress up as Death Eaters."
Harry looked between his best friends, his school rival, his children, and his wife and a small sound crossed his lips. Then another. Then he started uncontrollably laughing, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed Ron for support.
Malfoy frowned.
"Let's never do this again," he said.