A/N: Massive, massive thanks to
everybody who reviewed on the last chapter. I was really blown away by the response, so thank you so much for that. Also, for those of you who haven't realised yet, this fanfiction
is inspired by The OC, but don't worry, despite borrowing a few of the show's themes and ideas, the over all plot will be entirely new (because do you remember Ryan ever facing the Sorting Hat or being late for his History of Magic class??) Obviously, all of these characters belong to JKR, and thank you again for reading! Enjoy...
Chapter two.
It was six o’clock when he woke up the next morning. Too early to go downstairs and get breakfast, but too late to fall back to sleep again. In the end, he settled for a desperate state of limbo, wandering quietly through the household, trying not to wake its occupants, and at the same time, trying to get a bearing on exactly where he was.
It was on the sitting room floor, however, that he found another boy of his own age, leaning back silently against the sofa. He was sifting through a pile of old textbooks, dog-earing the pages as he went. Scorpius watched him curiously for a moment, wondering whether he should make his presence known or not, but then all too abruptly, the boy looked up.
Scorpius was alarmed by the look of startled surprise on the other boy’s face, and instantly he worried that Mr Potter had not yet told his children about the new presence in their home. But then the boy’s expression dropped into one of clarity, and he eyed Scorpius wearily for a moment, before putting down the old text books and getting to his feet.
He took a step towards Scorpius, then stopped and stood awkwardly, a foot from where he’d started. “Hi.” He said, with his hand raised in a waved greeting. Then he closed his eyes and shook his head in comical exasperation, as if berating himself for being an obvious dork.
Scorpius actually felt sorry for him. “Hi.” He replied.
The boy looked moderately relieved. Then his eyes began to rove, as if he were searching for something else to say. “So...” he tried, looking hopeful, “You’re the reason my parents weren’t speaking to each other yesterday evening.”
Scorpius felt a stab of guilt in his gut. “I thought Mrs. Potter was alright with me stay-”
“Oh!” the boy said quickly, looking embarrassed. “No, of course she is. Fine with it. Completely fine with it.”
Scorpius frowned. “Right?”
“Yeah. She’s just a bit stubborn. Everyone says so.” He smiled nervously, “But she’s definitely okay with it. She knows that dad’s just a bit too generous sometimes.” He paused, then his eyes grew suddenly wide, “Uh- not that any of us think that he’s been too generous this time! No, if anything he hasn’t been generous
enough yet. I mean, surely-”
Scorpius raised a hand to stop the other boy’s rant, and the teenager actually looked moderately thankful.
“I’m Scorpius.” He said simply. Better than to respond to the boy’s strange diatribe.
“Albus.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Albus Potter looked extremely sceptical. “You sure about that?”
Scorpius frowned. The unexplored self-doubt was evident on Albus’s face, and it occurred to him then, just how
easy it would be to knock the other boy down even further. To destroy his simple gathering of self-esteem, with just one single blow.
He also found, to his genuine surprise, that he didn’t want to.
“Yeah.” Scorpius reiterated. “It
is nice to meet you. Can’t be any worse than the kids my dad used to have me associating with, can you?”
Albus managed to look mollified and aghast, both at the same time. He glanced over Scorpius’s shoulder, then leaned in and said in a low, shaky voice. “You were friends with Death Eaters?”
Scorpius let out a laugh, and a startled expression spread over his companion’s face. “No no,” he said. “Can’t believe everything you hear. I meant the rich, homeschooled kids who lived in the same village as me. A right bunch of bloody pansies, they were.”
“Oh.” Albus let out an unnecessarily held breath. “Dad said you were alright.”
“Yeah, well.”
An awkward silence stole over them then, and the more nervous of the two began to shuffle restlessly. He bent to pick up the books he’d been leafing through, then made a big show of putting them back down again. Scorpius watched all of this with mild curiosity (having never come across someone so explicitly
nervous before) and then, deciding that it was probably a good idea to throw Albus a bone, he said:
“So, your cousin Rosie seems nice.”
Albus jumped, sending the books flying all over the place. “What?”
“Rose Weasley.”
“You met her?” Albus asked warily.
“Yeah. Yesterday- when I was waiting outside for your Dad.” Scorpius revealed. “Do you get on with her well?”
“Yes. Well,” Albus frowned. “During the holidays, at least. We don’t really spend a lot of time together at Hogwarts. She has her friends, I have... Mine.”
“You don’t run in the same circles?”
“Not exactly, no.” Albus said. “I... Well, I don’t know whether you’ve noticed or not, but I’m a little bit socially inept.”
Scorpius caught himself before he could react. He swallowed a very dry grin. “I wouldn’t say
inept exactly.”
“That’s because you don’t know me well enough yet.” Albus replied glumly. “Give it a day or two, and you’ll be wishing you’d opted for the orphanage.”
*
Rose Weasley often found that her father could be pretty adamant about some things. Unfortunately, it seemed that in this particular instance,
Scorpius Malfoy was one such thing.
Ron Weasley was pacing, his bottom lip thoroughly swollen from his nervous chewing. He turned to face his only daughter, then said almost pleadingly,
“I don’t want you consorting with that boy, Rosie.”
“Dad!” Rose protested, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment. “I’m fifteen!”
“I know, I know.” Ron replied, shaking his head enigmatically. “And you’re a good girl. I just... I know what those Malfoys are like.”
“And so do I.” Rose insisted, pinning her father with an annoyed look, “You’ve only been telling me what a foul git Draco Malfoy was, since the day that I was born.”
“Ronald!”
Hermione shot her husband an annoyed look at this revelation. But then she sighed, turning to her daughter and saying in a softer voice “I don’t want you to have any preconceptions about this boy, Rosie. There’s every chance that he’s not a bit like his father.”
“There’s every chance that he
is, too.” Ron muttered, earning himself another glare from Hermione. “Okay.” He said, raising his hands in defeat. “Fair enough, he might be a nice boy. But maybe I’m not willing to risk my only dau-”
He cut himself off at his wife’s dark look. He was a little
too familiar with that dangerous glare.
“Uncle Harry trusts him.”
Rosie felt both of her parents turn to look at her at the issuing of this simple statement. She gave her father a sheepish grin, but her mother looked rather thoughtful now. “You’re right.” She said, giving her daughter a brighter smile. “Harry
does trust the boy, and that should be enough for us.”
Ron looked aghast. “Hermione,” he said, “Look. We all know Harry. His heart might be in the right place, but he’s wired backwards. We haven’t even met this boy yet, so how can we possibly assume-”
“You’re right!” Hermione Weasley exclaimed, looking all of the sudden enthused. “What a good idea! We’ll invite the Potters and Scorpius around for Sunday lunch, tomorrow afternoon. It’ll be-”
“No. No. Absolutely no way.”
“Ron-”
“No.”
Hermione scowled, shaking her head very agitatedly. “Ronald Weasley, do
not make me threaten you with the frying pan
again-“ (Ron went very white at this) “-We would have invited the Potter’s round for lunch if it was any other Sunday, so I don’t see why that should change in light of their new house guest.”
Ron looked moderately thoughtful at this, “You’re right,” he said, almost-serious, “They’ll know something’s up if we don’t invite them.” He sighed, and Hermione didn’t look overly pleased by his response. “Okay, fine.” He said eventually, and then, in a bid to get back into his wife’s good books: “Rosie- why don’t you go over there now and tell Uncle Harry that his family’s invited to Sunday lunch tomorrow.”
Rose arched a brow. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” she asked. When her father merely shrugged, she turned to Hermione instead. “Mum? You know what dad gets like in high-pressure situations. Particularly around people he’s not too keen on.”
Hermione just shook her head curtly. “It will be fine Rosie. Your father will be on his best behaviour.” She shot a look towards the red-head in question, before adding in a stern voice “
Won’t you, Ronald?”
Finally, Ron grinned. “You know I can’t say no to you, love.” He responded, taking her hand into his. “It’s a Weasley-family-flaw. We can’t refuse the ones we love.”
Hermione smiled indulgently (despite herself), and she let Ron tug her into his arms for a familiar and well-practiced hug.
“You’re lucky that I put up with you.”
“Believe me, I know.”
Rosie made a theatrical gagging noise, then threw her arms up into the air, announcing in a rather scornful voice “You two are disgusting, do you know that? More disgusting than Bill and Phlegm half of the time!”
“Rosie! I’ve told you not to call your Aunt-“
“Yeah yeah, I know.”
*
Harry was halfway down the stairs- his hair bed-ruffled and messy and his glasses comically askew- when the sound of two teenage voices wafting up from the sitting room had him halting in his place.
“You’re taking the mickey, aren’t you? There’s no way a
trambulan charm could have given her acne
that badly!”
“My friend, I offer you only the most tedious of facts- obtained single-handedly from the Gryffindor boys dorm. Legend has it, she once went through every single ingredient in Professor Diggle’s collection, looking for something to clear her complexion.”
“No way,”
“I tell you nothing other than a moderately embellished truth.”
“Mate, that’s terrible!”
“You’re telling me. She spent the whole of last year trying to get away with wearing a mask in class. Needless to say, McGonagall wouldn’t go for that.”
“Couldn’t they have taken her to St Mungos to get it sorted out?”
“They
could have done, but McGonagall said something about ‘Learning a valuable lesson about vanity’.”
“
Geez, that’s pretty harsh.”
“I guess. McGonagall’s a steel fox half the time.”
From his place at the midpoint of the stairs, Harry grinned, genuinely thrilled that his son seemed to be getting on so well with Scorpius. Still, “It’s
Professor McGonagall to you, Al.” He called out chastisingly, and grinning even more broadly to himself when he saw the two boys leap upwards in surprise.
“Blimey dad, it’s customary to cough politely before intruding on conversation!”
“We didn’t wake you did we, Mr Potter?”
Harry smiled. “Nah.” He said, “We Potter’s aren’t exactly light sleepers. You could have been playing heavy metal and I probably wouldn’t have noticed.” The older man strode into the room which the two boys were currently occupying, and he sat down heavily on the sofa they were leaning against. “So, I see you’ve met my youngest son, Albus.”
Al rolled his eyes. “Pointing out the obvious here dad.”
Harry laughed, then reached forward to ruffle his son’s equally as messy hair with a grin of affection, ignoring the fifteen year old’s muffled protests of annoyance. “Dad!”
Scorpius observed this display of fatherly affection with something that almost felt like
jealousy burning in his gut, but he pushed the emotion away. “I like your house, Mr Potter.” He said, attempting nonchalance.
“Scorpius, please, I’ve told you to call me Harry.”
“Right,” Scorpius said, nodding firmly, “
Harry. I really hope I haven’t caused any trouble between you and your wife-“
“Oh no, not at all.” Harry insisted, then he glanced at Albus. “Did this one tell you that? Because you know that he’s socially inept, right?”
“Dad!”
“I mean it. The boy gets nervous and starts talking gibberish.”
“Dad!”
But Harry was grinning, and he ruffled his son’s hair once more for effect. “Come on.” He chuckled, finally getting back to his feet. “Lets see to some breakfast. I’ve promised Ginny eggs and toast in bed. I think it’s safe to say that I know how to remain on my wife’s good side.”
“Shame you’re not equally as concerned with keeping on
my good side.” Albus bit back, sending annoyed fingers through his incredibly messy hair in a vain attempt to straighten it out again.
Harry chuckled, then told Scorpius in a low voice, “He’s a cool kid really.”
“I got that.” Scorpius replied with a slight grin. Once again, Albus appeared mollified.
*
Eventually, breakfast consisted of eggy soldiers: one lot placed on a tray for Ginny (which Harry took upstairs, along with his own), and the rest dumped on numerous plates for Scorpius and the other Potter children. It was half an hour before Al’s older brother, James, finally padded into the kitchen, looking exactly like someone who’d enjoyed a lengthy lie in (with hair just about as unruly as his younger brother and father) and eyes still half closed with sleep. He merely regarded Scorpius with mild and barely realised disinterest, before raising a hand in cool greeting, then hauling up his plate of soldiers and plodding off into the sitting room.
“James.” Albus said helpfully, nodding in the direction which the oldest Potter boy had just made off in. “He’s almost seventeen- about to start his last year at Hogwarts, and way too cool for his own good. Apparently.”
The kitchen door opened again, and Albus’s smile brightened as a younger Potter girl ambled briskly into the room. She looked to be about thirteen, with chin length red hair and a smattering of freckles over her cheeks.
“Lily!” Albus said in a much more cheerful voice, and the pretty young girl smiled in greeting. She glanced at Scorpius, then said in a rather blunt voice,
“Isn’t he the one mum always warned us to stay away from?”
Albus looked horrified by this blurted revelation, but then James reappeared in the doorway. “Yep.” He told his little sister, picking up a glass and filling it with juice. “The famous Malfoy-Boy. Mum and dad always expected you to show up at Hogwarts.”
Scorpius shifted uncomfortably, trying not to feel intimidated. “Dad wanted me home-schooled.”
“Oh yeah?” James asked, arching a brow. “There were a couple of rumours circulating around at school. Lots of people thought that you might be a
squib. You know,
too much pure blood, and all that.”
“
James!” Albus hissed, appalled by his older brother’s unnecessarily cruel treatment of his new friend. “Shut
up!”
But Scorpius just shook his head, feeling a flaring of pride in his chest. “You think that bothers me?” he asked, his voice a little gruffer than he’d hoped. Still, he persisted all the same. “People can talk as much as they like. I know all about my dad’s past, and I can’t change the fact that he
was my dad. In fact, I wouldn’t want to. So just... Don’t start on that. There’s way too much that you could
never understand.”
James was quiet for a very long time, just staring at the angrily flushed blonde in front of him. But eventually, a smile broke through. “Good.” He said, seemingly arbitrarily. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be a push over.” He placed down his glass of juice and held his hand out before him. “It’s nice to meet you, Scorpius Malfoy.”
Scorpius took the proffered hand, somewhat cautiously. “It’s good to meet you, too.” He returned, shaking James’s hand firmly.
James grinned, then turned to Lily.
“What about you, Little’un?” He asked, raising his brows expectantly. “Does he get the Lily-seal-of-approval?”
Lily Potter narrowed her eyes with scrutiny. Then she shrugged off-handedly. “Guess so.” She said. “Though I’d like to reserve judgement for now. Mum’s right a lot of the time, too.”
“
Lily!” Albus hissed. But Scorpius just grinned, feeling as though he’d just been initiated into something really quite special.
Suddenly, the back door opened, and a beautifully refreshed-looking Rose Weasley stepped into the Potter’s kitchen. Scorpius took one look at her, and suddenly felt as if the room were much too small; as if he’d taken some giant flavoured polyjuice potion, and grown several inches in the space of a heartbeat.
She glanced around at the various pyjama-clad Potters, and eventually her eyes came to rest on Scorpius. She let a half-smile creep onto her face, before she seemed to remember herself, and she jolted her glance towards James instead.
“Is-“ she said, clearing her throat, “Is your dad about?”
“He’s giving mum breakfast in bed.” James replied nonchalantly, pointing towards the staircase without inhibition. “Why?”
“Oh, mum and dad want to invite you lot around for Sunday Lunch tomorrow.”
“Ah.” Said James, plonking himself down onto one of the kitchen stools. “Great.” Lily followed suit, sitting down in the stool beside his, while Scorpius, Rose and Albus continued to hover, looking somewhat aimless.
“So,” James said, “Your parents are appalled by Dad’s latest project-“ he jabbed a thumb at Scorpius, “-And now they’re trying to pretend that they’re not, by having us all around for a nice, uncomfortable meal.”
Rosie grinned, glancing at Scorpius again. “Pretty much.” She admitted, with an apologetic smile. “It’ll be hand bags at dawn if we’re lucky. Aunt Ginny and dad on one side, mum and Uncle Harry on the other.”
“I could have guessed that one.” Lily agreed, taking a bite of toast- then offering a slice to Rosie, who shook her head. “Your mum and our dad are always going to win though. They’ve got the moral high ground on their side.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Scorpius asked, looking ready to defend himself.
“Who knows?” Lily smirked. “I told you, I’m reserving judgement.”
“Well, from your perspective, it’s a good thing mate.” James conceded. “Better here than in some roughed up orphanage. Although you might be sick of Albus by the end of the summer.”
“Sick of
you more like.” Albus snarked.
“What do you think?” Rose asked, in that languid voice of hers. “Would you rather be stuck with this lot, or holed up in some children’s home, God knows where?”
Scorpius shrugged, aiming for indifferent detachment. “Guess this place isn’t so bad.” He said. With a grin.
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