"You cannot possibly mean to do this to our family, Draco!"
The portrait of Lucius Malfoy was having a rather difficult day. Just this morning, that ridiculous house-elf with the frilly pillowcase decided to install some sort of contraption that rolls around the portrait hall eating dust. The damned thing made the most infernal noise and of course, was completely inadequate at dusting the portraits themselves. Then of course, his grandfather Marcus decided now was as good a time as any to take up opera, a hobby denied him when he was alive by the rigid rules of pureblood society. From the sound of it, Marcus had been better off taking up falconry instead. Now, to make matters worse, his son just informed him that he would be marrying that know-it-all Mudblood friend of Potter's. Death had never been so unfair.
Draco smirked as he stood before the portraits of his father and mother, arms folded in defiance. "Oh, I absolutely intend to go through with this. In fact, she's agreed to take my name."It might not have been strictly true, as she had yet to come to a decision, but Draco knew it was sure to get a rise out of his father.
As predicted, Lucius's nostrils flared violently. What he wouldn't give to hit that ungrateful little shit on the head with his cane.
Narcissa attempted to mediate between the two. "My dear boy, I think what your father means is, perhaps you're being a bit hasty in your decision."
Draco snorted. "Sweet of you to try and cover for him, Mother, but we both know that is not what he meant. And I find it interesting that you'd say I was being 'hasty' when I seem to remember you didn't raise this same objection when I married Astoria, even though we'd only been together a few months. Hermione and I have known each other since we were children and we've been together a year. Neither of you can pretend you didn't know this was coming. I love her and I will marry her."
"I forbid it!" Lucius barked.
Draco's smirk deepened. "You know, Father," he said as he stalked dangerously over to the portrait. "I'm pretty sure I don't take orders from you anymore."
Lucius glared at his son. "I never thought I'd live to see the day my son, my own flesh and blood, stomped on the graves of his ancestors by planting a Mudblood in this house as Lady of the Manor."
"Funny thing about that, Father," he said, with pure venom in his voice. "You didn't live to see it. Or have you forgotten that I am the master of this house now."
Draco always avoided coming in this room, largely because his father often didn't seem to remember that he was, in fact, dead. He'd still try to order the house-elves around, his voice rising when they'd ignore him. Even house-elves have enough dignity not to take orders from a portrait. Furthermore, Lucius attempted to micromanage his dealings with the company. Every time Draco decided to visit his parents, he'd storm out angry. Lucius would scream after him, and his mother would be left in hysterics. It simply wasn't worth it, so he avoided it as long as possible until he inevitably succumbed to a bout of guilt.
"Is this some sort of rebellion? Because if that's the case, you've already more than proven you're no longer under my thumb by your mere insistence to consort with the girl. I admit when you told your mother and I that you had begun a relationship with a Mudblood—"
"Muggle-born," Draco corrected.
Lucius's eyes flashed dangerously before continuing. "That when you told us you had begun a relationship with a Muggle-born, we were shocked."
Draco sneered, "Shocked? That's funny. You threatened to come back as a ghost and haunt me until the day I die."
Lucius haughtily shrugged. "I might admit that I employed a poor use of histrionics."
"You also followed us around the house, invading portrait after portrait, until finally you interrupted us whilst we were shagging in the library."
Lucius reddened. "A mistake which I never made again, if I remember correctly."
Narcissa smiled through tight lips. "If my memory serves me correctly, Draco, you did that to your father on purpose, knowing he would invade your privacy. You might have taken the girl to your bedroom where you do not keep paintings for this very reason."
"But then how would he have learned his lesson?" Draco asked, feigning innocence.
"The point is, Draco, your mother and I were shocked that you brought a Muggle-born into this house. But we made peace with it—"
Draco interrupted him with an impressive scoff.
"Or rather, we have made something resembling peace with it because we were convinced this was just a passing fancy. A curiosity, if you will. A desire to taste forbidden fruits, to play in the mud. But your decision to bring her into your life permanently does not just affect you. Have you thought about what this will do to your son? What sort of stepmother will she make for Scorpius?" Lucius asked.
"An excellent one," Draco answered. "And I'll try to ignore your insulting insinuations regarding my interest in Hermione because I realize you're so bloody ignorant you really can't help it. But seriously, Father, have you seen the majority of purebloods these days? That gene pool could have used a bit of chlorine a long time ago."
Although Lucius did not understand what "clor-een" was, he assumed his son had made a smart-alecky remark and thusly fixed him with a glare. "You spit on the grave of your dead wife by bringing that Mudblood whore into this house."
Draco saw red. He was so angry he couldn't retort. There were no words good enough. So he simply made the decision to leave.
"No, darling, your father didn't mean that!" Narcissa cried after him.
"Yes, he did," Draco muttered darkly, turning to face his mother. "How can you defend him? I am happy with Hermione. We truly love each other, and still all he cares about is his fucking pureblood legacy!"
"Language, dear," Narcissa said.
"You chide me for my choice of words when he's the one who called my fiancée a whore and suggested that I was disrespecting Astoria's memory."
"I'm not condoning your father's behavior. What he said was crass and utterly out of line. But you have to understand, Draco dear, that it is no small thing to bring someone of Ms. Granger's pedigree into this family. You are breaking hundreds of years of protocol in doing so."
"I don't care."
"I am not suggesting that you should break your engagement, Draco," Narcissa said.
Both Lucius and Draco quirked cool, blond eyebrows at that statement and uttered simultaneously, "You're not?"
"Of course not. Your happiness is more important to me than tradition, but I am simply trying to impress upon you that this decision is not a small one."
"I agree, Mother. Which is why I put a lot more care into deciding who to spend the rest of my life with than can be said of almost any other Malfoy before me who just married whatever pureblooded bint came with the highest dowry. Hermione is special to me, Mother. And there's not a witch alive who could be more of a credit to the Malfoy name than her."
Narcissa nodded. "Well then, it seems that your father owes you an apology. Lucius, dear?"
"Narciiiissaa," Lucius whined. "Do I have to?"
Draco smirked. It always amused him to watch his mother bust his father's balls.
"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you will apologize to your son at once. He is obviously determined to marry this girl and nothing either of us can say will change his mind. Now stop being a child and tell your son that you're happy for him."
When she was alive, Narcissa Malfoy had a statuesque, cold beauty that terrified most men to their bones. As a portrait, this same quality was even more startling. Lucius Malfoy was no fool, and realized that if he were to coexist next to his formidable wife for the rest of eternity, he would need to do as he was told.
"I'm sorry," Lucius grumbled in a quiet voice.
"I'm sorry, Father. What was that?" Draco asked, reveling with wicked glee over his father's discomfort.
"I'm sorry, son. I hope you and your Mudbl—er, Ms. Granger will be very happy together." The always pale Lucius Malfoy was now roughly the color of sour milk. He sounded as if he might choke on those words, so cloying were the flavor of them on his tongue.
"We will be." Draco faced his mother with admiration. "Mother, as always, it's been a pleasure watching you work."
Narcissa tipped her head slightly in her son's direction. "Please don't hesitate to bring Ms. Granger into the portrait hall the next time she comes to visit. I'd be happy to give her some pointers."
Draco smiled. "I doubt she needs them. I'm already a fool for her."
*
Hermione winced sympathetically as she marked a big, fat "T" on Brady Fitch's essay, the subject of which was, "How to Not Die When Facing a Nundu." His thesis: "Too bad. You will. Just close your eyes and think of England." If Albus Potter had written it, it would have been a joke. But this was Brady Fitch's handiwork. He was just a hopelessly dumb kid.
She sighed. "You're killing me, Smalls."
A series of tuts came from the doorway. "We can't have that."
She smiled. "I wasn't expecting you," she said, standing to greet Draco.
"Missed you," he said as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply.
"You saw me just yesterday," she said, not even bothering to fight her smile.
"Yes, but I'm a spoiled little brat who always needs to have the things he wants within arm's reach. I require constant attention from my fiancée."
"Well, lucky for you, I just finished grading essays for the day. I'm all yours," she said, kissing him again.
His hands tightened around her waist. "Mmmm. All mine. I hope it doesn't make me a chauvinist that I fucking love the sound of that." He began kissing along her jaw. He then said in his sternest, deepest Malfoy voice, "Lock the door."
She was absolutely powerless to fight the moan that escaped her. "Draco," she said, her knees quaking as his hands began undoing the buttons on her shirt. "We're in my classroom. There are children just outside."
"And they'll remain outside if we just lock the door," he said, his hands dipping under the cups of her bra. He smirked at her breathy gasp as his thumb flicked her nipple. Although a significant amount of the blood that belonged to his brain had traveled south to rest in his groin, he was able to summon the requisite neurons to wave his wand and cast a charm to lock the door. "Now I believe you said something about being all mine?"
She smiled and bit her lip, nodding coquettishly. "What do you want to do to me?"
He groaned, his mind instantly filling with the sort of romantic--yet slightly creepy--things he should probably keep to himself. I want to jump inside your veins and swim into your soul. I want to burrow into the Earth with you and never come up. I want to die the same minute as you, with you wrapped up in my arms.
"Everything," he said.
*
The pair emerged from her classroom an hour later wearing matching mischievous smirks and symptomatic sex hair. They grasped hands, walking through the corridor like sneaky children who had just broken into the kitchen to steal sweets. Hermione felt a near-Amazonian possessiveness towards Draco as she watched the teenage girls gaze at her fiancé with stars in their eyes, the Slytherins even taking the liberty to shoot him a wispy, "Hi, Mr. Malfoy," even though they weren't particularly good friends with Scorpius.
Hermione rolled her eyes. She hoped it didn't make her a bad teacher that she was secretly pleased that most of the girls were already daft so she didn't have to feel badly about pulverizing their grades.
Draco smirked sideways at her. "Have I told you how utterly shaggable you look when you're jealous?"
Hermione blushed. "You're insatiable."
"I spoke to my parents' portraits today about our engagement."
Hermione stopped in her tracks. "Oh? How did that go?"
"They wish us all the happiness in the world."
Hermione smirked. "Is that Malfoy for 'Your father cursed us to fall into a bottomless pit of despair while your mother cried loudly into a handkerchief?'"
"There was also a bit of name-calling and ball-busting, but overall, you've got the picture," Draco said brightly.
Hermione chuckled. She remembered how shortly after she and Draco started dating, she had accidentally wandered into the portrait gallery only to find herself face to frame with approximately 500 racist portraits of Malfoys from centuries back. Despite the slurs they shot her way, she was momentarily fascinated that they all immediately recognized her Muggle heritage. This was swiftly replaced with indignation, as she attempted a well-meaning, but naïve lecture on "Why Blood Purity is Rubbish." She eventually got into a screaming match with Lucius and Abraxas Malfoy. When Draco popped his head in to save her, the two of them had a very uncomfortable conversation with his parents about why she was at Malfoy Manor. And his ancestors. Most girls are happy just to meet their boyfriend's parents, but Hermione, lucky girl that she was, got to meet Draco's fucking ancestors on top of it. And they all hated her.
"I think Lucius is starting to like me a little. Don't you think?" Hermione asked.
Draco grinned. "You're pretty."
"Hey Mr. Malfoy!" Albus Potter approached the couple, avoiding eye contact, like he always did.
"Albus. How's it going?" Draco asked.
"Fine, fine. Small talk, small talk. Look, I was wondering if I might have a word with you."
Draco's eyebrows raised. "With me?"
Albus nodded.
Draco looked at Hermione for guidance. She smirked at him, nodded, and mouthed Go. He allowed himself to be guided to a nearby bench.
"So...what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" Draco asked.
"You're good with women."
"What?" Draco asked.
"Women. They like you. I mean you got Professor Granger to marry you, and every other female you meet seems to fall instantly in love with you. You're not part veela by chance, are you Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco's head spun. Was he really having this conversation right now? "No. Just blond."
"And a rather handsome chap, if you don't mind me saying so, Mr. Malfoy. And you always seem to know exactly what to say to women."
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Not to be rude, Albus, but is there a particular reason you're complimenting my 'game'?"
"Of course, how rude of me. I apologize. I recently had a sexual encounter with a young woman whom I very much like, and now of course I—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop right there." Draco rubbed his temples. "You're having sex already?"
"No, Mr. Malfoy. I'm having sexual encounters. There's a difference."
"I realize that, Albus. I'm just trying to wrap my head around it. You're having sexual encounters." He stilled as a sudden realization assaulted his fatherly curiosity. "Is Scorpius having sexual encounters, too?"
Albus smirked. "You're trying to get me to betray my friend. Very Slytherin of you, Mr. Malfoy. Respect. But no. He's not. Just me. Currently. Which leads me to the dilemma at hand. You see, I—"
"Don't you think you should talk to your own father about this?"
Albus stilled, confused at the question. "You mean aside from the fact that he has recently undergone a transformation from the world's biggest dweeb to an unemployed hippie? But no, you're right, Mr. Malfoy. My father's a total babe magnet. Why would I hire a master scholar when I could have a hungover student tutor for free?"
Draco's eyes widened. "Wow. Albus, you are...and I say this with my deepest compliments...quite possibly one of the most ruthlessly uncontrived people I've ever met."
"Thank you, sir. Now. Where were we?"
"You're having sexual encounters."
"Sexual encounters! That's right. Thank you for reminding me, Draco." He paused. "May I call you Draco?"
Draco was floored. He rarely encountered this type of abrasive charisma in one so young. "Um...sure?"
"Good man. Now, Draco, I find myself unsure of how to proceed from here. You see this girl and I have been exclusive Snog Buddies for quite some time now."
Draco noted the noncommittal term 'Snog Buddy.' He'd employed similar techniques as a youth to deter girls from getting too clingy.
Albus continued. "Understand, Draco, that before the sexual encounter, I found myself rather apprehensive about the idea that she could be snogging others as well. And afterwards I was forced to admit to myself...I don't want her to be snogging other blokes."
"Good for you, Albus."
"Thank you, Draco. But you see my problem, don't you?"
"Not really."
Albus raised an eyebrow. "Well, surely logical men such as ourselves can see that fourteen is much too young an age to consider monogamy."
Draco shrugged. "It depends."
Albus leaned in, interested. "Do tell."
"It depends on the girl. Do you actually like her, or are you just feeling a bit territorial? If it's the latter, then don't waste her time. But if it's the former...you might regret missing out on her more than you would missing out on snogging other girls."
Albus's easy confidence began to crack. "I do like her."
"If you already know that, then why are you talking to me about this, Albus?"
"Perspective. You know things. When you were my age you didn't have just one girlfriend did you?"
Draco sighed. "No. But you really shouldn't use my teenage years as a metric stick on your love life or...well...anything, really. I was mean to girls, Albus. I was mean to everyone. And don't think for a minute that the moment I found a girl worth keeping that I didn't jump on it. Scorpius's mother was my first actual girlfriend. And I might have met her sooner if I hadn't been such a prat in school."
Albus nodded. "So you're saying that I should go for it."
"I'm saying that you shouldn't try to use logic to explain something as illogical as love...or whatever it is you're feeling towards this girl."
Albus nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Draco. Your friendship means a lot to me."
Draco gaped after him as he walked away. "What the fuck just happened?"
"Hey Dad."
Draco jumped in his seat. "Merlin, Scorp, you scared the shit out of me."
Scorpius tutted him. "Now, Dad. Profanity is the crutch of inarticulate motherfuckers."
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Watch your mouth."
Scorpius smirked. "Got a minute?"
"Sure, what's up?"
"It's about...sex."
Draco hung his head and sighed. "Of course it is."
"I think I'm ready to start...you know..."
"Having sexual encounters?"
"Yes, that's the perfect way to say it. But I don't know how to...you know..."
Draco raised an eyebrow. Was his son actually going to ask him how to pleasure a girl? He wasn't sure his cool parent cred extended that far. "Scorp, I can honestly say that I have no idea what you're about to say."
"How do I bring it up with Rose?"
Draco grimaced. "You're asking me for advice on how to get into Rose Weasley's knickers? You do realize that Hermione would murder me in my sleep if she knew we were having this conversation?"
"So don't tell her. I just needed to talk to you about it because you're...you know. You're good with women."
Draco chuckled. "Was there some sort of meeting or a gathering of randy teenage boys where you all got together and voted me your leader?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Scorpius, if you want to move forward in your relationship with Rose, you really should be talking to her about this. Because this...this here," he motioned a finger between the two of them. "It's creepy. If you have questions about...the mechanics...I'll explain things as best I can, but if you want advice on how to seduce her—"
"Ugh! Dad, no. That's not even remotely what I'm asking. I just want to know how to approach the subject."
Draco sighed. He reminded himself that he loved that Scorpius appeared to be some sort of teenage anomaly compared to his peers who would only speak to their parents under extreme duress, answering questions with monosyllabic evasion. However, he was quite sure this conversation broke the paradigm of father/son relationships. As uncomfortable as he was at the prospect of giving his son pointers on navigating the sexual seas, it was far preferable to the alternative—pretending that it wasn't normal for a boy his age to be sexually curious. He was one of the fortunate few of the world whose son felt comfortable enough with them to speak to them about such things. Honesty should be rewarded with honesty.
"I should probably tell you to hold off on this sort of thing, but we both know that's useless. Telling a fourteen-year-old male that he shouldn't be thinking about having sex is like telling a rabid werewolf that it should become a vegetarian. So I'll just say that if you're really going to...take the next step with Rose, you should be absolutely sure that you're ready."
"I'm ready," Scorpius answered without an ounce of hesitation.
Draco smirked in spite of himself. "Maybe I'll go to hell for this, but the next time you two are in a situation where you're...you know..."
"Where we're snogging?"
"Or whatever...I'd make a move that I normally wouldn't make. It doesn't need to be a big one. In fact, it shouldn't be a big one. Just...something that suggests you'd like to do more."
Scorpius bit his lip. "Like put my hand inside her jumper, or—"
"I really don't need the details of what you two do together, Scorp. You're a smart boy. You'll figure it out. Just remember that the goal is not to get into her knickers."
"It's not?" asked the fourteen-year-old vat of hormone soup.
"No. You don't want to push her. It needs to be her idea as much as yours. What you want is to communicate to her that you're thinking about it. Remind her that the option is there should she choose to take you up on it. The goal is really to get her thinking about it as much as you are. And if she already is, make her feel like it's okay to act on it."
Scorpius stared at his father in wonderment. "Um...just out of curiosity...how old were you when you...?"
"Lost my virginity?"
Scorpius nodded.
Draco debated lying to him. But that wasn't who they were. After last year's debacle, he wouldn't do that again, no matter how tempting the situation. He sighed. "I was fourteen."
"I'm fourteen."
"Yes, and you're a much more mature and responsible fourteen-year-old than I ever was. And you have a girlfriend who you really seem to respect and care for. Don't compare yourself to me, Scorp. You'll sell yourself short."
Scorpius grinned. "Thanks, Dad."
He smiled at his son, taking in the appearance of this person he helped make who looked so much like him. "Anytime." His smile fell a bit as he allowed himself a moment to mourn the fact that Scorpius was emerging into adulthood, thinking seriously about having sex and leaving behind his innocence. "I know you will, but just make sure to respect her. Whatever the two of you decide to do together is your business, but the last thing you want is for her to regret it. This is her first time too, I'm assuming. You two are trusting each other with something big. Don't take it lightly."
Scorpius nodded. "I don't take it lightly. I'm nervous, to be honest. But even if she doesn't want to do anything, I'm just happy she wants to be my girlfriend."
Draco smiled, marveling that he had something to do with this person. "Now," he clapped a hand on Scorpius's back. "I'm supposed to be having dinner with my fiancée."
"Have fun," Scorpius said. "Oooh! And would you ask her how I did on my essay on the Nundu? I'm not sure that I adequately described the origin. You see most people think that they only dwell in jungle settings but there have been sightings—"
Draco interrupted him with the world's most exaggerated grumble. "You're lucky you're a handsome kid."