The Time That Crazy Old Uncle Aethelfride Came in Handy and Helped Get the Girl (PG)

Oct 26, 2011 06:53

Title: The Time That Crazy Old Uncle Aethelfride Came in Handy and Helped Get the Girl
Author: kadollan
Prompt: Look I probably should have told you this before but you see... well... insanity runs in my family... It practically gallops. - Arsenic and Old Lace
Summary: Rose and Scorpius have encounter that leads to drinks and old family stories. The Malfoys, Rose concedes, beat the Weasleys hands down for weird. And that's saying something.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: (if applicable) 1016



"Alright, let me get this straight, your Great Aunt Aethelfride…"

"No, no," Scorpius held up one elegantly manicured finger, "that would be my Great Uncle Aethelfride."

"Your Great Uncle Aethelfride," Rose continued, barely acknowledging the interruption, "was disinherited for having an unorthodox and highly suspect relationship with a -"

"Yes, it’s all true," he nodded soberly. That was actually a bald-faced lie, as nothing he’d done for the past hour or maybe two had been anything like sober. But he was nodding very seriously, he thought. Yes. He could not claim sobriety, but surely he was serious.

He took another drink (also very seriously) and smiled at the pretty girl sitting across from him. They’d known each other at school, of course, but with one thing and another they’d never really associated. If by "one thing and another" you meant a familial enmity that spanned three generations and a major war their parents had been on opposite sides of. And he did.

"But surely he wouldn’t have been actually thrown out of the family for taking up with a squib? That’s terrible!"

"Oh the problem was not that she was a squib," he shook his head. "That’s one of the consequences of a pure-blooded breeding programme -- too much in-breeding. It’s all very hush-hush, of course, but with a big enough dowry a squib of good family could still marry the second son of a noble pure-blooded wizard. The problem was that her father was a merchant." At this he leaned forward conspiratorially, "And an American!" he sat back, satisfied that he’d imparted the most shocking and juicy bit of news yet. "The story goes that Aethelfride’s mother retired to her rooms at the news and was not heard of for weeks, much to the relief of all who knew her."

At this Rose started laughing. "You are really too outrageous. Surely you’re making this up!" They were sitting together at The Lux Lounge, one of London’s newest and most swank hot-spots for the up and coming young witch or wizard.

Scorpius’ date had claimed a last minute "family emergency" that he was fairly certain was actually something along the lines of "needed to stay home and wash the cat." Rose had walked in alone just as he’d been getting up to leave, and on a whim he’d offered to buy her a drink.

Three hours later and they were half a bottle of wine beyond the legal limit for apparating, and trading increasingly outrageous stories about their families. They’d both been careful, of course, to keep away from any potentially sensitive topics. The war, Scorpius’ Grandfather Lucius, and Rose’s Aunt Ginny were all forbidden subjects, but anything else was fair game.

"I’m not, I’ll have you know. There’s a long way to go yet before I run out of stories about the Malfoy family and have to resort to calumny. Insanity doesn’t just run in my family, Rose. It practically gallops."

***

Rose was having a fabulous time. She had been dreading the date with Mark Odell from Accounting. He’d asked her and in a moment of weakness out she’d come with "yes," when what she’d actually meant was "not unless Celestina Warbeck plans a comeback tour, and wait, no, actually not even then."

She’d briefly considered playing the "family emergency" card, but had then decided that it was her own fault she’d said yes to the date in the first place. She’d go, and smile in the appropriate places, laugh politely at his stories, and then figure out a way to see herself back up to her flat without the goodnight kiss.

His owl had caught up with her just as she arrived at club. "Oh no, I’ll meet you there," she’d told him. "I’ll already be down town, and it’s much more convenient that way, don’t you think?" There was no way she was letting him pick her up.

But the owl bore glad tidings: "Can’t make it tonight, hope we can reschedule. Best, Mark." Well, thank Merlin for that. She was already there though, and had been curious about the new club ever since it’d opened up, so she decided to pop in for one drink before heading off home.

She’d just been getting her bearings when Scorpius Malfoy had walked up, looking devilishly handsome. She’d agreed to a drink and made an off-hand comment on how funny it was that they barely knew each other, after having been in the same year at Hogwarts.

One drink had turned into two, and then three. Sometime after that she’d stopped counting, and had started laughing. She could listen to him talk for hours, even if more than half of what he said sounded like utter codswallop.

"So whatever did happen to your Great Aunt, I mean Uncle Aethelfride?" She didn’t actually care, if the truth were known, but she wasn’t ready for the evening to end just yet.

He waved a hand carelessly, nearly tipping over the empty wine bottle that sat between them. "Oh, he did very well for himself in the end. He’d lost the Malfoy fortune of course, but the girl’s father was doing very well for himself in muggle fuels. His name was Rockefeller, I think."

Rose nodded. "I have to say I really thought that the Weasleys would be able to compete in any ‘my family is stranger than yours’ competition that I might choose to enter, but I concede. Grandpa’s inexplicable love of plugs and Auntie Muriel’s tiara really don’t hold a candle to the vast weirdness that is Malfoy."

"I’ll take that as a compliment, if you don’t mind."

"Not at all, it was entirely complimentary. You’re a fabulous story-teller Scorpius. I’ve had a lovely evening." She smiled across the table, and tried to decide whether or not to suggest a second date.

"Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?" Or he could ask her. That would work too.

"Yes." She answered immediately and without reservation. "I absolutely will. I don’t even care if Celestina Warbeck tours again."

"I beg your pardon?"

Rose blushed. "Nothing."

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author:kadollan, pg, round four, fic

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