Music for writing : Tourner dans le Vide (DJ Faboon's symphonic remix)


That table was terrifying. That was Scorpius's conclusion. The decoration was beautiful, worthy of an English Christmas: candles, ivy wreaths entwined with garlands, and red apples. Snow was falling from the ceiling, disappearing before it touched the table. Lovely, yes, but what was frightening was the size of the table and the number of chairs arranged around it.

Scorpius exhaled softly as he placed the cutlery around the plates. He wasn't panicking, but the Weasleys and other guests were about to arrive, and he wasn't comfortable with the idea. Across from him, Albus was arranging the glasses, giving him a knowing smile.

"It's going to be fine, they don't bite."

"Remember that phrase when you come to the Manor."

"You thinking of inviting me soon?"

"Not anytime soon, I think," Scorpius admitted.

Voices were rising from the living room. Scorpius couldn't tell if it was Ginny and her daughter or if she was scolding Amanda. When she joined them, her hair was in disarray and her eyes were bright, looking completely frazzled, her voice one decibel above her usual tone.

"Great! It's perfect, exactly what I wanted! At least something is going right in this house! Albus, can you go get me one of the wine cartons from the cellar? We'll bring up the others during dinner. If your father asks where I am, tell him I'm taking over the bathroom for the next 30 minutes. Scorpius, you can go grab a butterbeer in the kitchen; you've earned it."

She disappeared down the hallway, still talking.

"You should meet her when she's not stressed," Albus said as he placed the last champagne flutes. "Bring me a beer when you grab yours, please!"

Scorpius nodded and headed to the kitchen, which could have been renamed "the battlefield" for the chaos reigning in it now. He grabbed two beers from one of the crates stationed by the door. He uncapped them and turned to head back to the dining room, but he jumped when he turned around.

Evan Dursley was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with an open beer in hand. From his posture, it seemed he had been watching Scorpius for a while, and that thought made him uncomfortable. Especially since Evan was blocking his way. He had spent the rest of the afternoon outside, and Scorpius had almost forgotten he existed.

Unfortunately, Evan hadn't forgotten him.

"So, what's it like being a Pureblood?" he asked, bringing the bottle to his lips.

"What's it like being a Muggle?" Scorpius shot back in the same tone.

Evan laughed, taking a swig of his beer.

After a gulp, he asked, "So what exactly does 'Pureblood' mean?"

"It means there are no Muggles in my family."

His eyes lazily trailed over Scorpius, shamelessly. They were glossy, likely from the alcohol; this wasn't his first beer.

"So does that mean you all marry each other?" Scorpius shot him a sideways glance, sensing some perverse insinuation in the tone, but Evan clarified, "I mean, you marry other wizards, right?"

"We marry other Pureblood wizards."

"Right. Yeah. Lily explained that to me once, that she wasn't a Pureblood because her dad's mom was like me. So, she's got like a quarter Muggle blood. Is that right?"

Scorpius nodded, glancing around, searching for an escape route. This wasn't his favorite conversation topic, especially here. It could easily lead into stories he didn't want to hear.

But Evan had no such restraint.

"So, in your family, there's no Muggle blood at all?"

"No."

"And there never has been?"

"No."

Evan gave him a slow once-over, his voice lowering.

"And you've never wanted to try it?"

"Try what?"

Evan shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Sleeping with a Muggle."

Scorpius gritted his teeth, tightening his grip around the bottles he held.

"No. And in my home, Muggles aren't welcome."

Scorpius's tone was meant to be threatening, but Evan seemed amused.

"That's what James told me. He said you come from a special family, dangerous types, huh? I told him I liked you, and he warned me that your grandfather would put me six feet under—if Albus didn't get to me first."

Scorpius wanted to say that the Muggles who entered his manor never left, but he held back, resisting the urge to issue threats, though they burned on his tongue.

"And yet, here you are."

"You must really be something," Evan murmured.

A sound behind them made him turn, raising his beer bottle.

"James! I just came to grab another beer, and look who I ran into."

But Potter didn't seem as cheerful.

"Evan, stop it, please."

Evan stared at him for a moment before replying,

"We're just talking, aren't we?" Scorpius didn't respond. "You've gone soft, James! Look at this—I don't know how you resist!"

James didn't even glance at Scorpius. Since he'd arrived, he had been ignoring him, avoiding any eye contact.

"He's with Albus," James said simply, locking eyes with Evan.

"Yeah, you mentioned that."

"What's going on?" Albus asked, entering the room.

Evan looked up at him.

"Nothing, James was just telling me he'd show me how you guys fly on broomsticks." He started to snicker. "Like something out of a freaking fairy tale."

The remark was insulting to everyone, and Scorpius clenched his jaw again, reminding himself over and over not to make a scene in the Potters' house. But Albus's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Your father is asking for you in the living room, through the Floo Network."

"My father?"

Albus nodded, and Scorpius handed him the two beers before leaving the kitchen, deliberately brushing past Evan as he walked by.

Green flames flickered in the hearth. Scorpius knelt down in front of the fire and saw his father's head within the flames.

"Dad?"

"Scorpius, is everything going well?"

His father's voice was calm, but the tension in his face conveyed something entirely different. A wave of unease washed over Scorpius. His father never called for nothing, and certainly not just to ask how he was doing.

"Yes."

"Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Good."

Draco took a short breath.

"Scorpius, it would be better if you stayed at the Potters' tonight."

"Why?" Scorpius asked sharply.

"I spoke with Albus's father, and he's fine with you staying."

"Why do you want me to stay?" the boy pressed.

"I'll explain it when you get home. Things are a bit complicated here."

"But tell me why!"

"Trust me. Enjoy Christmas. I'll come get you tomorrow."

Scorpius studied his father's face, trying to decipher his expression.

"Nothing serious?" he finally asked.

"No, don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

"It's about Dorian, isn't it?"

A flicker passed through Malfoy's eyes but disappeared an instant later.

"I told you not to worry," Draco replied firmly. He softened immediately, trying to stay calm. He was the one who seemed anxious, though he tried to hide it. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Scorpius kept scrutinizing him before reluctantly nodding. His father wished him a Merry Christmas before his image vanished and the green glow in the flames faded away.

He remained still for a moment, wondering what could be happening that they would exile him like this.

"Everything alright?"

Scorpius looked up and saw Albus standing beside him. He hadn't even heard him come in.

"No, not really," he said, standing up and dusting off his knees. "He asked me to stay here until tomorrow."

Albus frowned.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know."

"Then how do you know…?"

"I just do."

He stepped closer to Albus and wrapped his arms around him. Albus slipped his own around Scorpius's waist, pulling him close. It was rare for Scorpius to seek out this kind of comfort, resting his head on Albus's shoulder, eyes closed, wordlessly.

Voices and laughter echoed from the hallway, growing louder. The first guests had arrived.

Too many voices, too many voices. Scorpius let out a soft, frustrated groan against Albus's throat, making him laugh. He reluctantly pulled away and took Scorpius's hand, leading him toward the entrance where the excited chatter was coming from.

"Come on, I'll introduce you."

End of Chapter 29


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