Canary Creams and New Yellow Paint - (DRARRY)

Chapter Nineteen

There are more people here than Draco realised. Actually, the place is swimming with people.

Rose Weasley isn't too far away from him, and he can see the unrestricted awe on her face. Granger and Weasley flank her on either side, with a teenage boy who looks like another one of their brood in front of them.

Not too far away, he spots Astoria, her sister Daphne, and Pansy whispering amongst themselves. He thinks he even sees Hagrid near the back. In any case, North Moor is packed.

"Er..." says Scorpius. He's cast a charm to make his voice loud enough for the whole audience to hear, and the chatter dulls to a low buzz for him to speak.

"As you all know, we're here to visit the Wallygagglers of North Moor. For many of you, you'll be seeing an until-now unrecognised magical species for the first time. Now the Wallygagglers want to speak to you all, and we hope you plan to listen, but we ask that you please refrain from speaking back to them directly. Best protocol is to keep quiet so you don't accidentally make a deal you don't understand."

This causes a small bout of protests to rise, but Scorpius waves his hands to calm them down, and almost everyone quiets again.

"Thank you. This is the point where I inform you that large gatherings on this site are strictly forbidden by the Ministry, if you didn't already know. The waters nearby contain dangerous amounts of magical castoff, something which could prove harmful and even — in rare cases — fatal, if directly interacted with. You'll learn more about that soon. We ask that you please stay safe, and if you don't leave now, your name will be added to this contract" — he holds up a roll of parchment that Granger had spent hours perfecting — "agreeing that we are not at fault if you are injured in any way by the water or the Wallygagglers, and that it is your choice to be here against the Ministry's direction."

He waits for a long minute. Draco doesn't hear any pops of Disapparition.

Scorpius grins.

The rest of the afternoon and early evening is spent just as planned — for the most part. Everyone takes Scorpius's direction very seriously, except for one woman who tries to cross the narrow stream midway through the Wallygaggler's address and has to be escorted away by Weasley and a few of his Auror partners.

The frost fairies come out, twinkling in the trees surrounding the moor, which means it must have just dipped below freezing.

There are reporters present from all major wizarding publications, photographing the scene, spinning stories about how the Ministry has ignored the Wallygagglers for years. Everyone seems ecstatic.

He feels a spool of dread unwinding in his stomach.

"What's with the face?" Blaise asks.

Blaise and Potter are the only ones who haven't gone off in search of more fun activities. He thinks Scorpius and Teddy have a game of Exploding Snap going, but he's not paid much attention to the rest.

"No face."

"There's a face," Potter agrees. He's keeping a close eye on the festivities, though his glasses are clouded with steam from his cider.

"It's nothing. Nothing. I just..." They both stay quiet, caught on his words, as he hesitates. Blaise, in particular, has always been good at getting people to admit things they don't want to. "Did Scorpius remind you of his grandfather this afternoon?"

There's a moment of silence before Blaise claps him on the shoulder. "Relax. So what if he's finally using a bit of that Malfoy genetics? He's got plenty of Astoria in him, so there's still hope."

"I know, I just..."

"Ope! Speaking of: incoming." Blaise stands swiftly, giving him another sharp knock on the arm. Draco spots Astoria storming their way. "Good luck with that, old man. Time to duck out. I'll see you in the morning."