It was a beautiful summer morning and the dining room was filled with sunlight. The scent of roses wafted in through the open windows, mingling with the smell of the bacon cooking on the stove. A freshly laundered tablecloth covered the large dining table and crisp white napkins were neatly folded at each of the three place settings. A vase of freshly cut flowers sat in the middle of the perfectly set table.
A woman with long dark hair called out, “Breakfast’s ready!”
She smiled to herself as she heard her eleven year old son slide down the banister and race across the foyer, reaching the dining room in record time. Her husband made a considerably more dignified entrance from his study.
“Did you wash your hands?” Astoria asked her son, eyebrow raised.
Scorpius rolled his eyes and held up his hands in exasperation. “Yes, Mum.”
Astoria teasingly turned to Draco and repeated the question. He smiled and mockingly raised his hands for inspection too. She gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek prior to seating herself.
Before Scorpius had a chance to ask for the pancakes to be passed, several owls flew in through the open windows. Mercury, one of the Malfoy’s owls, skidded along the table and crashed into the vase. This resulted in a pile of feathers, flowers and broken china. Scorpius jumped out of his chair and picked up the bird while his mother magically repaired the vase. She then levitated it and the rearranged flowers back onto the table.
“Is Mercury alright?” asked Draco, before Vanishing the spilled water and refilling the vase.
Carefully looking their eldest owl over, Scorpius was relieved to see that Mercury seemed fine, despite his most recent crash landing. Mercury hooted indignantly so Scorpius quickly let go of him.
“Yeah, he looks okay,” confirmed Scorpius.
“Perhaps it’s time for him to retire,” ventured Draco, winking at Scorpius.
Mercury ruffled his feathers and answered with several angry hoots, making it clear this was out of the question.
Draco and Scorpius couldn’t help but grin at each other; Mercury had made the same refusal following his last dozen crashes.
“I dunno, Dad, I think he has a ways to go before retiring,” answered Scorpius, following their script.
Mercury stopped puffing up his feathers and appeared to be somewhat placated.
“As long as you don’t mind,” Draco told the owl with all the seriousness he could muster. “Here, have some toast.”
Mercury seemed to decide that the toast completed the apology, accepted it in his beak and flew off again.
Astoria ignored this routine as she opened a letter from her sister, trying to arrange for a shopping trip in Paris. Draco checked his pocket-watch and took a gulp of coffee before he returned to his copy of the Daily Prophet. It was a few moments before Scorpius realized that there was a letter for him. He let out a squeal of excitement upon recognizing the Hogwarts crest and ripped open the envelope, quickly reading the flowing blue script:
Dear Mr Malfoy,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Septima Vector,
Deputy Headmistress
Astoria hurried over to Scorpius and Draco proudly clapped him on the back, announcing, “This calls for a celebration! Tomorrow’s Saturday, we’ll all go to Diagon Alley, and you can pick out a Hogwarts acceptance present, we can get your school supplies then too!”
“You should write your grandparents and let them know you got your letter,” reminded Astoria, briefly dampening Scorpius’s spirits. Writing letters wasn’t exactly what he’d call celebrating.
“Is there really a giant squid in the lake?” asked Scorpius eagerly.
Draco smiled. “Yes, and we’ll answer all your questions at dinner tonight, but right now, I have to get to work.”
With that, he gave a final glance at his golden pocket-watch and Disapparated.
Scorpius was so excited he could barely eat his breakfast. Astoria quickly finished hers and excused herself, explaining that she had a tight deadline for her column. She wrote for Witch Weekly and had to send this week’s off in the next few hours. With a wave of her wand, the dishes cleaned themselves and soared off into the kitchen.
After writing the required letters to his grandparents, Scorpius spent the rest of the morning playing in the garden. The only problem with having a huge lawn was that it was a long walk to find anyone to play with. He was an only child and often lonely. Uncle Greg came to visit sometimes but he was hardly fun to play with and had no children of his own. What excited Scorpius most about going to Hogwarts was that he’d finally get to make friends his own age. The only children he ever got to play with were Gerald and Rachel Zabini and that was only because their mothers were friends at Hogwarts. Gerald was whiny and never wanted to go outdoors. Rachel was older and annoyingly bossy. She always had to choose the game or she wouldn’t play.
One time they’d finally managed to convince Gerald to go outside (he’d insisted he was allergic to grass) and Scorpius had found a toad. He’d proudly shown it to Rachel and Gerald. Rachel asked if she could see it and Scorpius had naively handed it to her. Rachel threw the toad as hard as she could and told him that toads were for babies. Scorpius had run crying to their mothers. Astoria had tried to explain to him that it was only a toad and nothing to cry over. Millicent Zabini simply looked disgusted with him for having wanted to play with something so slimy and unfashionable.
It wasn’t uncommon for Scorpius to find little animals. His mother was now annoyingly used to levitating baby birds back into the nests they’d fallen from or having to heal a mouse that her son had rescued from the cat. He was also hugely looking forward to taking Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts, but knew that wouldn’t be until his third year. His parents had tried to coach him towards different branches of magic, warning him that the Care of Magical Creatures teacher was incompetent. They’d told him the story of how his father was brutally attacked by a Hippogriff during his very first class. Scorpius decided that while the teacher may be incompetent, he’d just be careful and make sure to read the textbook carefully. He wanted to be a Magizoologist when he grew up or perhaps work with dragons at the Romanian Longhorn Dragon Reserve. Spending so much time alone had given him a lot of time to read. He’d already read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them a half dozen times. His new favourite book was written by Luna Longbottom on the new species she’d discovered. Scorpius had been delighted to see the first photographs of Blibbering Humdingers, which had been considered mythical for over a century. He couldn’t understand why his parents had been so reluctant to buy him the book; he’d had to specially ask for it for his birthday three times before they’d agreed to buy it for him. Normally he only had to ask once, unless it was an animal, then the answer was “No.”
Astoria Malfoy was not overly fond of animals. She pointed out that they had two family owls and a cat. That was more than enough. Scorpius didn’t find this anywhere near enough, especially since the owls were usually away on business for his parents. Snowflake, the cat, didn’t seem to like children and would scratch or bite Scorpius if he tried to play with her. She was a purebred Persian that Astoria’s sister, Daphne, had given her as a wedding gift. None of the Malfoys were particularly fond of Snowflake but Daphne would be insulted if they didn’t keep her.
That evening Draco, Astoria, and Scorpius went for dinner at Malfoy Manor. Scorpius always enjoyed their trips to visit his grandparents. His grandmother, Narcissa Malfoy, had an extensive aviary complete with her signature albino peacocks. Grandfather Lucius always had a few Galleons for his only grandson and would happily let him borrow books from the enormous library. Sometimes Scorpius wished that the family would move to Malfoy Manor. Astoria often tried to convince Draco to accept Lucius and Narcissa’s offer of living with them, after all there was certainly more than enough room. However, Draco firmly refused to move back into his parents’ home. Scorpius couldn’t be certain, but he suspected that his father disliked his childhood home; he never seemed to truly laugh when he was there. It always seemed as though a cloud of formality hung over the family when they were gathered together in the drawing room.
Scorpius had barely made his way in through the front door when his grandmother rushed over to kiss him on the cheek. “We’re so proud of you, Scorpius! In a few years you’ll be a Slytherin Prefect, just like your parents and grandfather were.”
Lucius hugged his grandson and then winked at him, saying, “And captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team, just like Draco and I.”
Astoria helpfully added, “You know, Draco was the best Seeker Slytherin had for years.”
“I was a Chaser, myself,” added Lucius.
Draco was frowning a bit and pointed out, “Scorpius doesn’t have to be in Slytherin, you know.”
Silence fell upon the room. Scorpius examined the faces of his parents and grandparents. After a few very uncomfortable moments, Astoria laughed. “Well, of course he doesn’t have to be in Slytherin, but I’m sure he will be.”
“Ravenclaw is a very good house too,” added Narcissa unconvincingly. Before her husband could disagree, she continued, “Perhaps we should all start dinner before it goes cold.”
Once they were seated at the table, Scorpius asked, “How many houses are there? Four right?”
“Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor,” replied Astoria in a neutral tone.
“What’s wrong with Hufflepuff and Gryffindor?”
“Gryffindors are show-offs and Hufflepuffs couldn’t get into any other house,” answered Lucius.
Scorpius thought about this for a few moments. “How do you get into Slytherin or Ravenclaw?”
“Ravenclaws are very studious,” cut in Narcissa. She had been concerned that Lucius would use the term ‘know-it-alls’ and upon considering how much time Scorpius spent reading, she could envision him being shunted to Ravenclaw.
“Slytherins have a pure ancestry,” added Lucius.
Draco’s frown was more pronounced this time. “Slytherins are also very resourceful and creative.”
Astoria sensed the growing tension between her husband and father-in-law. “So you see, Dear, it’s fairly certain that you’ll end up in Slytherin because you’re creative and resourceful as well as being a pure-blood.”
“Oh.” Scorpius accepted this answer and the mood at the table lightened somewhat.
After taking a few more mouthfuls of pheasant, Scorpius had found more questions. “Is the ceiling in the Great Hall really enchanted to look like the sky?”
Draco smiled. “How many times have you read, Hogwarts A History, then?”
“A few,” muttered Scorpius, grinning at his father.
“Yeah, it really is enchanted like that,” answered Draco.
“What if I forget the password to the common room?”
“Then you’ll spend a lot of your time like your Uncle Greg,” answered Astoria, eyes twinkling. “He used to spend quite a while waiting for Draco with Crabbe…”
Astoria flushed a bit. They didn’t talk about Vincent Crabbe much. Draco often got upset; he didn’t like remembering the night Vincent had died, or how it had happened.
Oblivious to his mother’s faux pas, Scorpius continued with question after question. His parents and grandparents answered as many as they could; they told him about his professors, his classes, how he would get to Hogwarts and what the Slytherin common room looked like.
After saying goodnight to Scorpius, Draco went downstairs to the lounge and sat next to his wife as she sipped a cup of tea.
“I have to tell him,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion.
Astoria set down her teacup and looked at her husband. “You don’t need to tell him anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Draco’s face twisted. “Really? I would have thought attempted murder would be considered wrong.”
“You were cleared by the Wizengamot. You had no choice.”
“That doesn’t mean there weren’t times when I wanted to…”
“Yes, well, that’s between you and I. There’s no reason to worry Scorpius over it,” replied Astoria.
“And what about when he arrives at Hogwarts and everyone knows all about his family except him?”
“It was twenty years ago, the other children will know only what Scorpius knows: he comes from a long line of pure-bloods.”
Draco ceased to argue with his wife. He still couldn’t help but mentally correct her previous statement; it had been nineteen years, three months and twenty-four days since it had finally ended. Neither Astoria nor Scorpius knew what it was like to be held prisoner by the Dark Lord and he was eternally thankful for that.