Post DH fic, spoilery
Title: The sins of the father
Warning: none
Rating: G, for now
What else, but AS/S
Summary: Poor little rich boys.
Scorpius Malfoy lived in a very big house. He knew this because he had been to the village outside the Manor’s gates once, and he had been, once or twice, to other people’s houses and they weren’t as large. He liked his house, and when his grandparents came down from France it was a happy house-full of presents and much doting.
His mother loved him, he knew, even though she spent so much time in Monaco, as did his father. And the house elves all doted on him. But on days like this, when it seemed he was all alone in the world, he did wonder what it would be like to have a friend, a best friend, with whom one could share adventures and secrets. He would be going away to school tomorrow, which was frightening to him, as he had never spent a night without his parents or grandparents cosseting him, but also exciting-a chance to meet new people, something that never happened at the Manor.
He never really understood it properly, and it was strange, given his family’s wealth and holdings that they had so cut themselves from the outside world, but he knew it had something to do with the Battle of Hogwarts and the fall of Riddle. But most of all it had to do with Harry Potter. Potter the hero, who now lived in strictly enforced anonymity but who still inevitably got mentioned in the press, on the wireless, everywhere, and every time his name appeared, his father’s mouth tightened, and his mother, when she was around, grew stiff and unapproachable. He had always been sensitive to people’s reactions and Harry Potter had over the years become an ogre that lived outside the Manor’s elaborate gates, outside its carefully-woven weather charms-in the wet, dark world outside. The world into which he would be venturing tomorrow -- alone.
Scorpius let out a sigh as he sprawled amongst the rock roses, watching the sky through his fair eyelashes and contemplated his immediate future. As if on cue, a large white tiger padded through the hedges and into the rockery and settled down next to Scorpius and set up a sawing purr of contentment. He passed lazy fingers through the deep white fur around its neck.
‘Oh, Almaz, I wish I could take you to Hogwarts with me. You’re a kind of cat aren’t you?’
The tiger raised its giant head and yawned in reply, baring incisors that could have snapped the fragile boy before it in two in a trice, and then gently lay down its head on its paws, diamond eyes lazily drooping-for all the world as if it were, indeed, an overgrown house cat.
‘Nobody, could say anything to me then…,’ he said, remembering that trip to Diagon Alley they had taken only two days ago, his father taking him early in the morning in the silver Rolls. They had marched straight through the Leaky Cauldron where people stared sullenly at them, over their breakfast, and into the busy street behind it, bustling even so early in the morning. His father had held his hand fast, holding him close and he had been overwhelmed with the noise and bustle around him, the shops, the noise, the people, jostling him, saying things-but his ears were full of an indistinct buzzing and he could not make out what was said, until his father pulled him into the quiet of Madam Malkin’s for his robe measurements.
‘As quickly as you please,’ his father had instructed and had gone to get Scorpio’s other school things and he gathered that he did not want to linger in Diagon Alley.
He was being measured in the quiet of the shop by a flicking measuring tape, when he heard a snatch of conversation from behind the curtains that separated the measuring alcove from the main shop.
‘-decided to come before they bring Albus and Rosie in-they fuss over the ickle firsties so. Plus I wanted to try the new Frisky Quills at-‘
The curtain behind him parted and in walked two larger boys, one dark and the other with red hair. They broke off as they saw him, barely reaching their eye level, even when sanding on a stool.
‘Oho, look whose albino brat is going to start school this term,’ said the dark-haired boy, looking at Scorpius.
‘God, I hate Untrieds’, said his freckled companion, ‘but he’ll be set to rights at school, I suppose. Unless he’s going to Durmstrang, of course.’
Before the dark- headed boy could respond, Madam Malkin had bustled in, taking their orders in another antechamber and Scorpius had been left alone. He remained standing on the stool until his father came back and hurried him away.
He had tried asking what an ‘untried’ was over dinner that night, but his father had been reticent, choosing instead to tell Scorpius about the virtues of the broom he had ordered from him, which was still under production, but would be his when he tried out for his house team next year. Ordinarily, this would have been the stuff of dreams, but today it did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest, or the tension in his narrow shoulders as he hunched over his plate at the end of the polished dining table. His father was a distant figure, and the grim knowledge that the security and certainty of home would be wrested from him in two days turned his food to ashes in his mouth.
That feeling was in him still, as he tried to capture the peace and quiet of the last of the summer, but fear still knotted his stomach, making everything horrible.
Suddenly, the tiger swished its tail and growled low in warning and Scorpius was ready when a house elf apparated next to him. ‘Tilly is bringing Master Scorpius the news that teas is ready. Master Draco is waiting in the Slightly Apricot drawing room,’ it said, watching the tiger warily with its large round eyes.
‘Very well, Tilly,’ and with dragging feet, Scorpius Malfoy walked across the lawns for his last tea before Hogwarts.
tbc
Warning: none
Rating: G, for now
What else, but AS/S
Summary: Poor little rich boys.
Scorpius Malfoy lived in a very big house. He knew this because he had been to the village outside the Manor’s gates once, and he had been, once or twice, to other people’s houses and they weren’t as large. He liked his house, and when his grandparents came down from France it was a happy house-full of presents and much doting.
His mother loved him, he knew, even though she spent so much time in Monaco, as did his father. And the house elves all doted on him. But on days like this, when it seemed he was all alone in the world, he did wonder what it would be like to have a friend, a best friend, with whom one could share adventures and secrets. He would be going away to school tomorrow, which was frightening to him, as he had never spent a night without his parents or grandparents cosseting him, but also exciting-a chance to meet new people, something that never happened at the Manor.
He never really understood it properly, and it was strange, given his family’s wealth and holdings that they had so cut themselves from the outside world, but he knew it had something to do with the Battle of Hogwarts and the fall of Riddle. But most of all it had to do with Harry Potter. Potter the hero, who now lived in strictly enforced anonymity but who still inevitably got mentioned in the press, on the wireless, everywhere, and every time his name appeared, his father’s mouth tightened, and his mother, when she was around, grew stiff and unapproachable. He had always been sensitive to people’s reactions and Harry Potter had over the years become an ogre that lived outside the Manor’s elaborate gates, outside its carefully-woven weather charms-in the wet, dark world outside. The world into which he would be venturing tomorrow -- alone.
Scorpius let out a sigh as he sprawled amongst the rock roses, watching the sky through his fair eyelashes and contemplated his immediate future. As if on cue, a large white tiger padded through the hedges and into the rockery and settled down next to Scorpius and set up a sawing purr of contentment. He passed lazy fingers through the deep white fur around its neck.
‘Oh, Almaz, I wish I could take you to Hogwarts with me. You’re a kind of cat aren’t you?’
The tiger raised its giant head and yawned in reply, baring incisors that could have snapped the fragile boy before it in two in a trice, and then gently lay down its head on its paws, diamond eyes lazily drooping-for all the world as if it were, indeed, an overgrown house cat.
‘Nobody, could say anything to me then…,’ he said, remembering that trip to Diagon Alley they had taken only two days ago, his father taking him early in the morning in the silver Rolls. They had marched straight through the Leaky Cauldron where people stared sullenly at them, over their breakfast, and into the busy street behind it, bustling even so early in the morning. His father had held his hand fast, holding him close and he had been overwhelmed with the noise and bustle around him, the shops, the noise, the people, jostling him, saying things-but his ears were full of an indistinct buzzing and he could not make out what was said, until his father pulled him into the quiet of Madam Malkin’s for his robe measurements.
‘As quickly as you please,’ his father had instructed and had gone to get Scorpio’s other school things and he gathered that he did not want to linger in Diagon Alley.
He was being measured in the quiet of the shop by a flicking measuring tape, when he heard a snatch of conversation from behind the curtains that separated the measuring alcove from the main shop.
‘-decided to come before they bring Albus and Rosie in-they fuss over the ickle firsties so. Plus I wanted to try the new Frisky Quills at-‘
The curtain behind him parted and in walked two larger boys, one dark and the other with red hair. They broke off as they saw him, barely reaching their eye level, even when sanding on a stool.
‘Oho, look whose albino brat is going to start school this term,’ said the dark-haired boy, looking at Scorpius.
‘God, I hate Untrieds’, said his freckled companion, ‘but he’ll be set to rights at school, I suppose. Unless he’s going to Durmstrang, of course.’
Before the dark- headed boy could respond, Madam Malkin had bustled in, taking their orders in another antechamber and Scorpius had been left alone. He remained standing on the stool until his father came back and hurried him away.
He had tried asking what an ‘untried’ was over dinner that night, but his father had been reticent, choosing instead to tell Scorpius about the virtues of the broom he had ordered from him, which was still under production, but would be his when he tried out for his house team next year. Ordinarily, this would have been the stuff of dreams, but today it did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest, or the tension in his narrow shoulders as he hunched over his plate at the end of the polished dining table. His father was a distant figure, and the grim knowledge that the security and certainty of home would be wrested from him in two days turned his food to ashes in his mouth.
That feeling was in him still, as he tried to capture the peace and quiet of the last of the summer, but fear still knotted his stomach, making everything horrible.
Suddenly, the tiger swished its tail and growled low in warning and Scorpius was ready when a house elf apparated next to him. ‘Tilly is bringing Master Scorpius the news that teas is ready. Master Draco is waiting in the Slightly Apricot drawing room,’ it said, watching the tiger warily with its large round eyes.
‘Very well, Tilly,’ and with dragging feet, Scorpius Malfoy walked across the lawns for his last tea before Hogwarts.
tbc