Chapter 10
The Werewolf, the Veela, and the Malfoy Heir Part 1
22nd of September 2013
Draco Malfoy's Flat
London, England
Feeling ancient as he lounged on the couch with a blanket over his legs while he read the notes his future self had written, Theo struggled to keep his mind on the task at hand. If only one of his two sexy nurses would come by, so he could pinch their behinds.
Even sitting and reading about all the death and horror that the Black Empress would be reigning down on them in a few years, Theo just couldn't get the image of Hermione topless, riding him while he sucked Draco's cock out of his head.
Perhaps a repeat performance was in order…
The door flew open, crashing into the wall, causing Theo to nearly jump out of his chair and land on the floor. Hermione stood in the doorway, looking completely mad and beautiful. She held two scrolls in her hands, her hair sparking excitedly.
"I have the twins' OWL results! I haven't looked yet. Where is Draco?" Her excitement made her look ready to jump out of her skin.
"He was brewing a potion," Theo began, but he couldn't finish his thought before the witch was in action again.
Hermione summoned her patronus, commanding the spectral otter who swam through the air around her head. "Tell Draco to come to the sitting room immediately. It's urgent!" The otter spun around in circles, seeming giddy as its owner before swimming off through the air, swirling blue mist resembling the water around it.
"That's amazing," Theo said, watching it go.
"Can you not summon one?" Hermione asked curiously. Finally, she walked over to Theo and kissed him on the lips.
"Never been able to," Theo offered, enjoying the closeness so he could look at her brown eyes with the slightest hints of golden flecks.
"Hmmm, I guess we'll need to help you make some happier memories," Hermione smiled, sitting the scrolls in his lap.
Just as Hermione curled her body into Theo's side, Draco came rushing into the room, looking like an absolute mess. "Are you both alright? What's the emergency?"
"We're fine; we've got OWL results!" Hermione exclaimed, snatching the parchment out of Theo's lap and waving them in the air. "I didn't want to open them without you."
Hermione handed Viola's scroll to Theo and Scorpius' to Draco and excitedly patted the tops of her thighs. "I'm too nervous to read. You'll both have to do it for me."
Theo unrolled the first scroll without preamble, just as eager as Hermione to see how their daughter had done. "Viola got nine Outstandings! Two Exceeds Expectations and one Acceptable?" Theo's voice trailed off at the end as he looked down the list of courses.
"What's the Acceptable in?" Hermione questioned, leaning over him, too curious to be able to wait for the answer he was about to give her.
"Muggle Studies."
"Hm, well, that class is a joke anyway. She still did incredibly well." Hermione grinned, her excitement making her face look years younger. Theo could feel the answering grin on his face.
It felt so strange to be this happy, Theo thought. It seemed unnatural, but he decided to just go with it.
"Like mother, like daughter, Granger," Draco quipped, smiling. Their energy was jubilant. Theo wasn't used to seeing Draco smile like that, and the furrow in Hermione's brow was absent.
"Now, Scorpius!" Hermione practically bounced on her toes, prancing her way over to Draco. She nearly tackled the poor man as she tried to look at the parchment in his hands.
"Six Outstandings, four Exceeds Expectations, and two Acceptables. He passed everything."
Theo peered over, "Oh, he scored higher than Viola on Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. Will you look at that?"
It was hard to believe that he'd accomplished that. Future Theo had home-educated the twins for years. He shook his head, unable to imagine what it looked like when he'd taught them well enough to score like this.
"We need to send them an OWL gift," Draco began. "These results are nearly unheard of—all twelve owls!" He shook his head, looked back at the scrolls, and grinned.
"An OWL gift?" Hermione asked, looking between the two wizards in confusion.
"It's a Pureblood tradition," Draco answered. "You get something for each of the OWLs you pass; the more OWLs passed, the more you get."
"What did you get?" Hermione asked.
"Sweets," Draco said. At the same time, Theo answered, "Books on Dark Magic."
Hermione looked at Theo and sighed. "Gods, I don't like your father."
"Honestly, same," Theo smiled and winked in her direction to try and defuse some of the tension that had begun to build in the room.
"What do you think they'd like?" Hermione asked, getting the hint that Theo didn't want to delve further into the topic.
"Galleons for Scorpius," Theo said assuredly.
"What?" Draco asked, his mouth hanging open in shock. "What in the world could he possibly need galleons for?"
"He wanted more access to his trust vault, and the boy has a fashion style that we couldn't hope to replicate, and he likes tattoos. He should get to decide his own OWL presents."
"I'm not sure I trust Scorpius with any money…" Draco trailed off, and Theo chuckled because the more he thought about it, the worse the idea sounded. The boy was unhinged, even more so than he'd been at his age, and the possibilities were endless.
"How about a compromise?" Hermione said, clapping her hands together and looking at both wizards. "We go to Muggle London and buy him a few very fashion-forward pieces and a gift certificate for the magical tattoo parlour in Knockturn, and you can send him a galleon for each OWL."
"Fifty galleons sounds more reasonable," Theo responded, stretching his arms over his head.
"Twenty," Draco corrected, rolling his eyes.
Hermione said nothing for a moment, her eyes narrowed, and Theo watched with glee as she made the conversion in her head. The way her mouth fell open when she finished had him nearly ready to leap from his chair and scoop her into his arms with how adorable she looked.
"That's over a thousand pounds! He does not need that much…"
"Hermione, love," Theo said, reaching a hand out to take hold of her and bring her to his level. "Scorpius is the sole heir to the equivalent of billions of pounds. I don't think two hundred forty galleons will ruin him."
"That's still an outrageous amount of money for any teenager to have access to," Hermione grumbled but didn't argue further.
"Same amount of money for Viola then, but what would she like?" Theo asked, ignoring the twinge that he didn't know his daughter well enough to know what to get her as an OWL gift.
"Scorpius told me she's going out for the house team," Draco offered, crossing his arms over his chest. "He said she's a beater and hell on a broom. She could probably use new equipment, certainly any high-end armguards and gloves."
"A new broom?" Theo offered, though even if they bought her a top-of-the-line broom, it would be outdated from what she'd last used. He bit his lip, considering their options. "I could probably modify it so that it is more up to the standards she's used to."
Hermione and Draco were silent at his suggestion, seeming amazed.
"What?" Theo asked, utterly confused.
"You…you understand broom spellwork?" Draco asked as if this was the most fantastic thing Theo could have ever said.
"Well, yeah? I mean, it's just basic charms and arithmancy." Theo explained, though, that, based on the looks Draco and Hermione were giving him, it wasn't as simple as he thought. He shrugged. It was nothing compared to sending two teenagers back nearly two decades, and he'd managed that, hadn't he?
22nd of September 2013
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Some things always stayed the same. The owls swooped over people's morning meals, dropping packages and newspapers among the students as they had in the original timeline. It happened the same way when Grandmère was a student at Hogwarts.
From the front of the Daily Prophet, their parents' smiling faces looked up at them, as did their own, though Viola looked downright haughty in her photograph – if Scorpius was being perfectly honest. Unacceptable in his eyes, his sister hadn't even allowed him to fix her hair before they'd had to face the reporters at the little press meeting their parents had held in Hogsmeade the day prior.
"You had a stick in your hair," Scorpius complained, squinting at the twig that had gotten caught in her curls on their way into the village, but she'd refused to let him double-check at the time. "Embarrassment to the family, you are."
"Hm," was the only reply he got from her, as their OWL results had just been delivered that morning along with their mum's interview with Creevey. Scorpius's results lay untouched under his coffee cup as he scanned the paper for any extra comments.
"What did you get in Care of Magical Creatures?" Vi asked, but Scorp waved her off and turned to the wizard beside him.
"I get my charming personality from my papa, the bloke in the wheelchair," Scorp held the Prophet in front of Ragnar and pointed to Theo, "He tried to kill himself- hey Vi, how many times did Theo try offing himself over the summer?"
Ragnar's face blanched, and his shoulders pulled back and stiffened on the bench. His eyes darted around the table, surveying which of their classmates was watching their interaction. For a change, people seemed to be absorbed in their conversations. A fifth-year Hufflepuff had just been found to be pregnant, so that was the topic of most people around them.
"Acceptable!?" Vi hissed at her results, not listening to what Scorpius said, which he found rude. "They must have gotten it wrong…certainly they sent back the exams with remarks on it…" she muttered, digging futilely around in her envelope.
"Anyway, he tried to kill himself a lot, and now he's not allowed to be alone and can't walk very well yet," Scorpius sighed. "I'm certain our mum and dad are taking great care of him."
"Do you happen to have any parchment, by chance?" Viola asked, suddenly giving Scorpius her undivided attention. "I shouldn't have to request the bloody written portion with their remarks on what I got wrong. I cannot believe the injustice! How am I supposed to rebut anything if they try to hide it away!?"
"I'm sorry. Is this really what we're concerned about when the whole school talks about our family and watches us? Viola, you're on the front page of the Prophet, and you had a twig in your hair; I don't think you grasp the seriousness of this situation." Scorpius sighed but was a dutiful brother who produced the objects she requested from his shoulder bag.
"What did you get?" Vi asked, finally looking at what Scorpius held and visibly scowled. "Where are your results? Have you not looked?"
"They're…" Scorpius looked around the table, not remembering where he'd shoved the Ministry envelope. "Somewhere around here." As he said this, he lifted his coffee mug to take a drink and found what his sister had been looking for.
Only his envelope was now wet from the coffee he'd spilled. The look on Viola's face had Ragnar leaning away from her, but Scorpius rested his chin in his hands, gave his sister a wide grin, and fluttered his lashes. Brushing his hand against Ragnar's thigh, Scorpius's smirk grew more mischievous, his attention split between his sister and the wizard he fancied. Off on the side, Scorpius watched Ragnar grit his teeth, but thankfully, he didn't try to pull away.
The sound of her ripping into his envelope was the only other thing he could hear as he continued to sip the coffee that had somehow not managed to ruin the Ministry-grade parchment.
It was probably impervious to liquids, Scorpius mused and began trying to sort out which charm a person could use to do that to any parchment. It sounded like an ingenious business opportunity.
Scorpius pulled out a quill, a new sheet of parchment, and his wand from his bag and began to test the different theories that had started running through his head.
Humming to himself, Scorp nearly forgot that he had been sitting in the Great Hall between Ragnar and Viola for the three minutes it had taken him to create a charm that made parchment resistant to liquids other than ink intentionally written on it.
He smiled when he dumped a full glass of pumpkin juice on it. The sticky substance slid right off and trailed over, with the bonus of drenching the issue of Witch Weekly that Peony Parkinson was reading.
He ignored Ragnar's frustrated sigh next to him. It wasn't as though he'd done it on purpose.
Scorpius smiled and wiggled his fingers in Peony's direction, which caused her already hideous face to turn an atrocious red. As a thought crossed Scorp's mind and he was about to express his notion to her, his sister slapped her hands on the table in outrage.
"I can't believe we both got an 'Acceptable' in Muggle Studies," Viola groused, looking between the two reports in her hands. "This is an outrage; we'll have to write to the Ministry about this."
"Oh, come off it. Let's be real, that test was kind of bullshit. I don't think whoever wrote that has ever collectively spent more than a day in the Muggle world throughout their entire life. The practical was operating a television set, and I got marked down because I asked for the remote, and the bloody professor thought I was just making up words to confuse him," Scorpius scoffed. "There was a picture of a rotary phone in one of the questions." Ragnar made a noise in agreement, and Scorp shot him a smile. He knew that Ragnar knew more about the Muggle world than anyone else at their table.
"And how did you, the boy named after stars, not get 'Outstanding' in Astronomy?" Viola asked, shaking his results in his face so that he finally had to look at them. Ragnar, for his part, seemed reasonably scared of Viola and leaned away from her, nearly falling off the bench. Scorpius' arm darted out to keep him from toppling to the floor, the easy touch sending a spark through Scorpius.
Scorpius shrugged, his eyes scanning between the two pieces of parchment.
"It was hardly about the Black family tree. I could have easily drawn that out. Look, I did better than you on a few things." Scorpius smirked at his twin, knowing that would make her insane, while he steadied Ragnar beside him.
"First of all, Divination is not an academic subject." Her hands flew about animatedly as she became more passionate about the topic.
"Yet, you are the one who insisted we sit the bloody exam," Scorpius interrupted her, but Viola ignored him and continued rambling, her hands still waving. Again, Scorpius noted Ragnar's eyes were watching the people sitting around their table. Ragnar shrugged off Scorpius's hand, still lingering at his lower back.
"And Care of Magical Creatures," she rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. Scorpius was only giving his sister half of his attention, though, watching Ragnar's jaw clenching as he lifted his coffee to his mouth and took a sip.
"We all have our strengths and weaknesses," Scorpius waggled his eyebrows at her, but Viola was already back to writing her letter to the Ministry.
"Whatever," Viola snorted. "My strengths don't involve what to feed things and how much scat they create. I can't believe you knew the answers to some of those questions."
"It's just because I spent more time with Uncle Charlie and Hagrid, our first go-round," he leaned forward to whisper to her. In the hushed tones, Scorpius was aware that Ragnar's full attention was on their conversation, but as much as Scorpius fancied him, this wasn't something the other wizard could hear. "Don't be cross, Vi." Scorpius finished, raising his voice back to his normal tone.
She rolled her eyes and returned to her angry letter, ignoring Scorpius' continued chatter with Ragnar.
28th of September 2013
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"So, um," the swotty little Ravenclaw with wide blue-framed Muggle glasses said nervously to Scorpius when he caught him between classes. "I heard you received five perfect scores on your OWLs." The wizard had to be a fifth year, with short, tight ringlets that reminded Scorpius of Cole, the one time he'd grown his hair out. His whole vibe was immaculate, and Scorpius could appreciate it. The blue and bronze bowtie was inspired.
"How did you hear that?" Scorpius asked, intrigued.
"Word gets around," he answered flippantly. At Scorpius' raised eyebrow, the false bravado immediately folded, and he admitted, "My uncle works with your mum at the DMLE, and she's been bragging to everyone." Scorpius felt warmth invade his chest at that knowledge. He couldn't explain how good it felt when Hermione acted like the mum he knew and loved.
She was in there somewhere, after all.
"The rumours are true," Scorpius winked at the wizard, who blushed. Oh, it wasn't that intriguing. "So what about them?"
Would you like to join our revision group? We meet on Tuesdays in the library and…"
"He's busy," a gruff voice interrupted from behind Scorpius, a breath he recognized on his nape. He suppressed a shiver.
The Ravenclaw's eyes widened. "Rowle," he choked out, clearly afraid. "I didn't mean…"
"Finch-Fletchley," Ragnar responded coldly from behind Scorpius' shoulder. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"
Scorpius laughed as the other boy ran off and looked at Ragnar, who had a scowl. "For someone who wants us to be discreet, that was a bit possessive. What if Flinchy-flinchingly there tells people?"
"He won't," Ragnar replied confidently, tossing his hair over his shoulder.
"What makes you so sure," Scorpius asked curiously, repositioning his shoulder bag to head to his next class.
Ragnar stepped next to him and murmured only for Scorpius' ears. "We used to date. It ended…badly."
Oh. Oh.
11th of October 2030
Black Empress's HeadQuarters, Location Unknown
The runes on his skin, tattooed for protection against evil, burned with their effort as Ragnar Rowle looked up stone-faced to the dias where his master's throne sat. In the cage next to her, the redheaded infant peacefully slept while her nursemaid stood nearby, knees shaking with fear for her life when the baby would inevitably cry.
The Death Squad stood lined and ready with their wands turned on the row of innocents against the wall who had not defied the Black Empress but were still deemed unworthy to live for reasons unknown to any except the dictatrix that ruled them all.
"Fire," she commanded, waving her hand in an easy dismissal, and the shots of green light filled the space, followed by the sound of the bodies collapsing to the ground.
Her ornate black opal mask hid her eyes, making it appear that she was all darkness. The black lips with the gold and black designs over her cheeks and eye holes labelled her rank in the privacy of their meetings, but on the field, their leader rarely allowed her enemies to know she was there. Her ink-black mask with a single gold stripe over her left eye was the only indication to her army of who she was.
The tightly guarded secret of her true identity only made her more terrifying.
Today, however, her hood was down, allowing the mass of her black curls to hang around her and the black magic to spark with her fury.
"Cedric," she called from her perch to her pet. The poor lad, whoever he was, hurried up from the ground, his muscular form on full display, not even his privates obscured. Ragnar wagered a guess that he was hardly seventeen—or had been when he'd died in the first place. His new second life as the Black Empress' pet had picked up right where he had left off.
"Yes, My Empress," the pet asked, bowing his head so that his dark brown locks fell in front of his forehead. "How may I serve you?" He was breathless in his excitement, which made Ragnar want to vomit, but he swallowed the bile and kept his face carefully neutral.
"Bring me the seer," an elegant pale hand reached out, a dark artefact adorning each finger, as she brushed his cheek. Her touch was nearly loving, but Ragnar knew the woman didn't know what love was.
Paralyzed with fear, Ragnar didn't turn fast enough to avoid seeing the sunken faces marred with burned flesh. This made all of the Black Empress' Risen Soldiers more terrifying than the rest of her army, so she never masked them. The witch's feat of necromancy had been a one-off, but the fear it continued to instill in her followers and enemies was unending.
Cedric's solid black eyes turned on Ragnar, and his smile was wide as his full attention turned to him. A grin spread over his face, and a chill ran down Ragnar's spine.
"Yes, My Queen," he hissed, his head tilting and his grin showing off his pointed teeth.
Fucking hell. Ragnar wondered if the boy had filed them himself willingly or if the Black Empress had done it for him.
His bare feet slapped against the marble as he went to retrieve the seer just as the baby began to stir. Ragnar's spine stiffened as he watched the nursemaid rush to retrieve the infant from her cage.
The girl's dark skin with red hair made her true parentage known to those who saw her, but no one dared mention that she was the daughter stolen from Ginevra Zabini's womb. No one dared whisper anything suggesting the baby was anything other than the Black Empress's heir, although the child was kept caged most of the time.
"Rowle," the Empress summoned, not sparing a look in the direction of the babe, "it seems that I have a problem that I need you to solve for me."
Ragnar approached her, and she gripped his hand. He could feel her magic reaching out and tangling with his own. They said her father was the greatest legilimens ever, and she'd augmented her power with so many dark artefacts that she surpassed him. Fortunately, werewolves were immune to legilimency, but that didn't stop her from trying to invade his mind.
The werewolf bites that he'd sustained nearly a year ago burned with such intensity that he feared he might lose consciousness right there in front of her. The spells and charms embedded in the Norse Runes tattooed on him kept him awake through the agony, though barely.
Gasping for breath as she released him, Ragnar struggled to stand upright. His chest was heaving. At some point, his long golden hair had come out of the leather tie he'd pulled back in so that it was now hanging around his shoulders.
"And what would that be, My Empress?" Ragnar asked, his voice sounding as if it were filled with gravel.
Just then, Cedric was dragging along on the floor the crumpled body of someone Ragnar had never seen before. The long, straight black hair and the pale skin did not indicate his or her identity. The body and face were so severely disfigured that it was impossible to tell the gender.
"Reverse time on the seer," the Black Empress commanded. Cedric's body shook excitedly as he picked up a spear and ran it through the seer's leg.
A feral cry of pain rang out as Cedric twisted the artefact in the muscles, forcing the seer to return to the moment they were looking for. The twitching of the seer's eyes and haze covered them as the forced time travel happened. Some of the wounds healed, though not many. Not even time could heal the darkest of scars.
When Cedric ripped out the spear, Ragnar was nearly sick at the sound of the flesh being pulled from their body. This time, the seer did not scream in pain; instead, they rushed out the prophecy the Empress wanted to hear again.
"Through the deeds and words of twinborn Capricorns formed of the bloodlines of the most ancient of houses, the raven queen shall perish, for she shall not measure the Gemini's impact on days gone by. Thus, her downfall, by the hands born of her ancestry, Black as night."
After their prophecy had been spoken, the seer collapsed into a heap, and Ragnar felt the power of the Black Empress's gaze fall on him. He didn't want to look at her, but a power was compelling him that he couldn't ignore.
"Your task," she said, and Ragnar didn't need clarification. He had to find the twins born to the House of Black. Dropping to one knee and bowing his head, Ragnar's heart raced. The New Order kept them tightly hidden, and they had no idea of this prophecy.
"Yes, my Empress. It shall be done." Vivienne's life, his mate's life, depended on his success. The Black Empress didn't even need to remind him anymore. Ragnar knew what hung in the balance.
11th of October 2013
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"Is that my cardigan?" Vi asked, walking into Scorpius' private bathroom. Her eyes narrowed on her brother, and she rolled her eyes as she continued to look for whatever she was about to borrow without asking permission first. Such a hypocrite, his sister.
"It's technically part of the standard uniform; the Headmistress cannot say that I'm in violation," Scorpius quipped, his eyes trained on his cheek as he filled in the little heart he'd drawn there.
"And the green bow?" Vi asked, pulling out the headband that she'd been searching for.
"House pride," Scorpius answered, pulling away from the mirror to inspect his handy work. "Please let me give you a cat eye at least. You look so…" he trailed off, scrunching his nose at his sister's appearance.
She had no makeup, and her hair was legitimately out of control. Being the biological child of both Hermione and Theo, there was no popping out of bed and just rolling with it. However, his sister insisted on doing precisely that. The students in the back of the class complained that they couldn't see the board because of it. She'd never been this lackadaisical about her appearance before; she'd never been as precise about her looks as he and Pandora, but this new ambivalence was getting on his last nerve.
Viola levelled Scorp with a look that could freeze a volcano, and he held up his hands. He still needed his bollocks in working order today; he did have a date with his sexy Viking later.
"Are you coming down to breakfast?" Scorp asked, changing the subject to self-preservation. After all, he was a Slytherin.
"No, the elves brought up coffee and toast for me." Vi snipped, walking out of Scorp's bathroom and into the sitting room, the headband she'd taken securely in place for the moment. Scorpius frowned, seeing the emerald material and mourning its loss; by the end of the day, it would be so stretched out from holding her hair back that he'd never be able to use it again.
He could send it to Theo and ask if he could sort out the charms that would need to be woven into it to improve its durability and tame her hair more. Scorp tapped his chin, wondering if that would be possible. If anyone could sort it out, it was Theo; it would also give him something to do instead of just rolling around Draco's flat, wheelchair-bound and probably bored out of his skull. Last Scorpius had asked, Hermione and Draco weren't letting Theo help with the things they'd brought back from the future. He thought that was short-sighted. Theo was the most ingenious wizard he'd ever known, but this Theo was a bit of a trainwreck.
"Your bag, Scorpius," Vi called as Scorp reached the exit to their rooms. Turning around, he saw his satchel being levitated toward him, though Vi's total concentration was on the Runes she was deconstructing at the little dining table.
"Always mothering me," Scorp teased, but Vi didn't acknowledge him, too absorbed in whatever mastery-level project Professor Dromgoole had assigned her.
Skipping out of his rooms and towards the Great Hall, Scorp felt light and excited as he searched for the wizard that was his current obsession. Scorpius stopped at the window he passed and watched as the witch, possibly even more mysterious than himself and Vi, crossed the grounds, heading straight towards the forbidden forest. The witch, Vivienne, had been pushed to the recesses of his mind, though she occasionally came to the forefront as she did now. Stalking through the green grass, she wore those Muggle fishnets she favoured. Scorpius couldn't take his eyes off her as he watched her growl at a group of females sitting in a group, who all scattered and ran from the terrifying witch. Attending their classes wasn't her style, so he hardly ever saw her there, but watching her as she slipped past the tree line, Scorpius wondered what more there was to Vivienne Delacour.
Scorpius had noticed that she'd been avoiding him since the day she defended him to Peony Parkinson. She barely ever went to class anyway, but when he walked in, she'd always walk out ostensibly to use the loo but never returned. He didn't know when she ate or where, but it was hardly ever in the Great Hall. He'd never seen her in the Slytherin common room either.
It irked him slightly because she was delicious, and he desperately wanted a taste, especially after Ragnar had implied that Vivienne and he were friends, or maybe even more. Ragnar had said that Vivienne owned him or something like that. For someone who had supposedly claimed him, the French witch was very hands-off with him and Ragnar.
The possibility of exploring that friendship between Ragnar and Vivienne made Scorp's cock twitch with excitement, especially if he was able to be the creme filling.
No, no, that was for another time. Scorp chided himself, but then he spotted Ragnar, and his blood was heating again. Fucking hell, the Viking wizard was bloody perfection.
"Hmm, you're looking delectable this morning," Scorpius purred, coming up behind the other wizard, running his hands over the forearms that made his mouth water. Ragnar had just been about to walk into the Great Hall. The smile on his face melted when he took in Scorp's appearance: Vi's Slytherin cardigan, his trousers charmed to fit him like a second skin, and the little green bow in his hair with the enamel ouroboros. Scorpius knew he looked adorable and had been looking forward to seeing Ragnar, but at the look on the other wizard's face, Scorpius wondered if he'd gone too far. Scorpius smirked in the other man's direction, but the scowl on his face had Scorpius flushing and pulling his cardigan around his body.
Ragnar frowned, nervous sweat suddenly appearing at his temples.
Scorpius was frozen in place, waiting for Ragnar to say anything. The Viking looked around to see if they were being watched before guiding Scorp into a nearby alcove partially hidden by a tapestry. After another backward glance, Ragnar finished hiding the pair behind the tapestry before turning his narrowed eyes on Scorpius.
"Can't you tone it down a little?" Ragnar asked, his dilated pupils giving away a little of what he thought of how Scorpius had done his makeup.
Scorpius scoffed in response and ran his hand down Ragnar's chest, settling it on his abdomen; Scorp could feel the tension in the other wizard's abs and wanted to pull him into a broom closet to slide his fingers even lower. "And why would I do that? Are you worried about me?"
"Fuck yes, Scorpius. Wizards aren't like Muggles. It might as well be the eighteen hundreds as far as they're concerned." Ragnar frowned. "Someone could hurt you." Ragnar's finger traced over Scorpius' cheekbone possessively.
"That's sweet, but I can take care of myself, I promise," Scorp replied, looking up into Ragnar's eyes. The deep blue pulled him in, and Scorpius couldn't understand how he was supposed to sit at breakfast next to this man without having him first.
"They will make life hell for you if you insist on doing this." His thumb traced over Scorpius' lower lip, stealing away none of the charmed lip gloss despite Ragnar's attempt. His exhale was shaky, as he admitted. "I don't want them to touch you, any of them."
Scorpius smiled. He'd never had a lover long enough for them to care about his safety. He wasn't sure if it was the novelty, but having someone want to protect him made his cock hard. Maybe someone who craved him so much that they wanted to keep him safe but also made his blood heat with a glance had Scorpius purring like the kitten he wasn't. He was a passionate little slut at the best of times. Or the worst. But what Ragnar did to him, Scorpius found himself noting that never before had he had whatever this was and enjoying it.
Scorp nipped at Ragnar's thumb, causing the other wizard to freeze and pull back. "Be honest, though. Do you like it?" Scorpius purred.
"Fucking hell, Scorpius, you know you look good enough to eat," Ragnar sighed, his eyes hot as he stared at Scorp's lips. Scorpius suspected that Ragnar was rock hard, but his lover had his hips tilted away so that Scorp couldn't find out for sure.
There was only one way to find out.
"Well, that's an idea. I believe there's an empty classroom to your left that we haven't explored yet…" Scorpius trailed off, taking Ragnar's hand and leading him from behind the tapestry. A nonverbal wandless disillusionment charm fell over them as they approached the classroom door. "I'm certain we can look it over quickly before the elves clear away the bacon."
Ragnar's jaw went slack at the suggestion, and then he looked over Scorp's shoulder to the entrance hall. He nodded and pulled Scorpius to the classroom, muttering about hazel eyes, glitter, and tiny drawn-on hearts.
11th of October 2013
The Office of The Headmistress
"So, Gran, I need you to hear me out on this one, yeah?" Scorpius said, bursting into the Headmistress's office without knocking.
"Mr. Malfoy-Nott, what can I do for you?" His grandmother asked, not looking up from the parchment she was writing on. "Also, how did you get into my office? I changed the password this morning."
"So, I'm not much of a Quidditch player," he said, ignoring her question. She didn't need to know that he'd memorised the passwords she recycled in the future. Luckily, it seemed that his gran was a creature of habit. "I feel like House spirit is important."
"I agree, but where is this going?" She said, looking over the top of her half-moon spectacles at him. Her greying hair wasn't exactly as white as he recalled, making her look less intimidating than his first go-through at school.
"I think that the Quidditch teams should have cheerleading squads," Scorpius stated, his fingers tapping a pattern on his hip as he tried to keep his body still as he spoke with the headmistress. He had learned long ago that she was much more agreeable when he wasn't bouncing off the walls. "It would be a way for people who aren't inclined to play Quidditch to be a participatory part of the game."
"No," McGonagall stated sternly, unwilling to hear him out further.
"But…Gran," Scorpius started to attempt to convince her to see his way, but when she glanced up at him, he knew she wouldn't be swayed. Not yet, at least.
He'd been on his way to being captain of the Slytherin cheerleading squad in his own time. He wasn't going to let her take that away from him. "Fine. That's fine." He simply had taken no for an answer.
12th of October 2013
The Quidditch Pitch
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Viola stepped out onto the pitch, the broom she'd brought from Malfoy Manor slung over her shoulders with her beater's bat in hand. The Gryffindor team had their tryouts this afternoon, with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff the following day.
Even for the cool morning and it being Saturday, the Slytherin stands were packed with students excited to see the new team being put together. Vi could feel her heart pumping with her excitement over Quidditch.
Their timeline didn't matter; this sport was always there for her, a constant in her life. The energy it brought to a crowd couldn't be replicated anywhere else.
Even during the Black Empress' rule, Quidditch continued around the globe, if not in England, and it was one source of entertainment in which Vi could lose herself. Anytime a safe house had a yard; she would pull out the broom her mother had gifted her for her fifteenth birthday and give it a go.
Though Scorpius never enjoyed Quidditch the same way she did, he would always reluctantly fly with her. Whether in his animagus form or on a broom, it all depended on his mood.
"VIOLA!" His voice rang out over the crowd, pulling her attention from the warmups she was doing. Looking up into the stands, Viola struggled to spot him. When he called out to her again, Viola realised he wasn't in the stands but standing down on the pitch.
"VIOLA! THE OTHER BEATER LOOKS FIT IN HIS KIT! CAN YOU LET HIM KNOW I SAID SO?" Scorpius yelled, making the request moot.
Vi glanced at the other beater, who happened to be the captain and the wizard with whom Scorpius was currently having a fling. Ragnar, however, didn't seem to have heard what Scorpius had said, too distracted by what Scorpius was wearing.
The pigtails and cheerleading outfit, complete with pom poms, were enough to cause a commotion. His skirt was even shorter on him now than when he'd last worn it in their fifth year as the assistant head of the Slytherin cheer squad. The top he wore was also too small on him now, hugging his chest tighter and showing off his abdominal muscles and tattoos. She didn't understand why he hadn't charmed them a little bigger. She shook her head, unconcerned about it.
The sight didn't phase Viola in the slightest, as she'd anticipated him to participate in his favourite part of Hogwarts Quidditch. Still, she was sure it hadn't been something the other players had ever imagined.
With the warm-ups complete, Vi kicked off the ground to join the rest of the Slytherin team in the air. Ragnar was built like a damn house, and while he talked, Vi watched his movements on his broom while also taking in his instructions.
After observing him for ten minutes, Vi realised that he relied too much on being able to keep himself on his broom by gripping the handle with his left hand. He used his legs for direction and would let go of the handle, but only when necessary.
Vi smiled as she took off, a plan already forming for taking everyone out.
When the balls were released, Vi sped off after the bludger heading for the chaser that she was supposed to be protecting. He was a little third-year student; this was the first time he'd ever gone out for the team.
Ragnar had, rightfully, put the players that had made up last year's team against the new players to get an idea of their skill level before breaking them into groups to demonstrate specific tactics and skills.
Vi batted away the incoming ball quickly and took out the other chaser, who was trying to knock the third-year boy from his broom. The kid had spunk and hadn't even flinched when the ball had gone flying past him, even turning his broom, anticipating where Vi would be aiming the bludger.
She smiled to herself; she was already starting to like him.
Down below, she could hear her brother hooting and hollering for her, but Vi didn't have time to pay him any attention. Ragnar had just taken a swing and was sending another ball in the direction of her fellow beater, who seemed to be a complete moron and had yet to notice the incoming ball.
Pressing her body against the wood, Vi shot through the sky and outstretched her bat just in time to redirect the ball while simultaneously aiming it toward Ragnar's partner. Unlike her interception, Ragnar didn't bother to try to save his teammate; instead, he watched the reflexes that weren't quick enough.
A crack indicated that Vi had broken the guy's arm, but she didn't feel the slightest remorse. She was planning to make the team, after all.
This time, Scorpius jumped in the air, the wind catching his skirt and showing off his arse for the whole crowd to see. Unfortunately for Ragnar, he'd been too busy watching her brother and had stopped watching the tryouts when Vi sent another bludger heading in his direction.
Being the good samaritan that she was, Vi did not break any of Ragnar's bones. However, she knocked him from his broom while he was busy ogling her brother.
Watching the large man fall fifty feet from the sky was amusing, but only momentarily. Then Vi realised it was probably poor form to cause great bodily harm to the team's captain when you were trying out for his team. Even if he kept his whatever it was with your brother in the shadows.
Laying flat, Vi went into a nosedive, pushing her broom to speed up as she closed in on the free-falling boy. She couldn't hear anything over the wind whistling in her ears. The goggles she wore thankfully kept her glasses in place.
Reaching out to grab him, Vi used the momentum of the fall and her broom to swing the much larger boy onto her broom before she crashed into the ground.
With his death unlikely, Vi pulled her broom out of the free fall and slowed to descend onto the pitch. In her haste to save Ragnar from injury, she had not noticed that Peony Parkinson had joined her brother.
"So, what is it, then?" the ugly girl scowled as she examined Scorp's outfit. "Do you wish you were a girl then?"
"No, not that there's anything wrong with that. But I very much like being male, thank you. I think skirts are incredibly comfortable, and everyone will wear them in the future." Scorpius threw out his Malfoy smirk toward the raging girl.
"Your distraction almost killed Ragnar! Is that what you were hoping, then? That with you prancing around like a queer, he'd not be able to pay attention to the tryouts, and your sister would be named the captain?" Peony accused, but Ragnar reached the offensive girl before either Malfoy-Nott could respond.
"You will apologise," the Viking growled, gripping the back of her jumper so she was forced to stay. "Scorpius did nothing wrong, and you are out of line."
"Protective, isn't he?" Vi whispered to her brother, enjoying watching Peony cower under the weight of Ragnar's stare.
"Right? I'll have to reward him later for defending my honour." Vi looked at her brother, whose hooded eyes looked like he was just about to jump the other wizard.
"Also, did you just quote The Princess Bride at her to make yourself sound clever?" Vi asked, watching as the Headmistress ran onto the pitch. Her attention was on the Slytherin captain, who asked if he was alright after falling nearly fifty feet. Ragnar's little sister was also running down from the stands to check on her brother, and long braids were flying behind her.
"Paraphrased, but they're Purebloods; they've never seen that movie." Scorpius raised his hand and wiggled his fingers at Gran when Peony gestured in their direction.
With their grandmother's attention now squarely on the twins, Scorpius took that as his cue to leave. Walking backward, he pointed finger guns in Peony's direction, which only seemed to infuriate the other girl even more. Instead of waiting around, Vi mounted her broom and took off into the air to hunt down where the bludgers had gotten off to.
It seemed no matter how much she tried not to attract attention to herself, Peony Parkinson and her brother were determined to put a spotlight on her.
19th of October 2013
Draco Malfoy's Flat
London, England
Theo was sucking on Hermione's neck, unable to help himself with how delectable she was looking this morning. Perfectly bonny, if he was being honest. Her little fuzzy pale pink housecoat and matching slippers, with her hair piled onto the top of her head, only being held in place by her wand.
Why she thought her wand was a hair accessory was beyond Theo's comprehension, but he thanked whatever deity had given her the idea. He had thought he was too old for a new kink, but how he loved to be proved wrong.
"Theo, I'm still drinking my coffee and haven't brushed my teeth," she said half-heartedly, complaining about his actions. However, her nails digging into his thigh told him she didn't want to finish her coffee yet. He suspected that she enjoyed reheating it multiple times throughout the day.
With the newfound freedom of life without his wheelchair, Theo dropped to his knees, slotting himself between her thighs. Her hands were in his hair, and she held him at her apex. Theo could hear the breaths coming raggedly.
He smirked against the silk of her skin and hummed in appreciation of her enthusiasm.
Leaning forward, Theo kissed her centre, chuckling to himself when he felt her arousal pour from her body, coating his lips. Gods, he swore he was bloody in love with the witch, though he wasn't ready to tell her yet.
Soon though.
