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Dominated by Midnight_Fox
Chapter 1: To Be In Love With A Mole...
A/N: Sooooo...RANDOM STORY ALERT!!!!! You have all been warned - it contains a strangely dorky Scorpius Lucius Romeo Malfoy, bad spelling and the occasional hint of humour that I found incredibly funny last night at about half three...
THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO ELLIE WHO IS MY MOSHING MOLE THOUGH SHE DENIES IT!!!!
^image by EnyaL^
In the middle of my undeniably boring and pointless Charms lesson, I’ve just realised something truly and utterly horrifying:
That I - Scorpius Lucius Romeo (one word; Mother) Malfoy, son of ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy and grandson of both current Azkaban resident Lucius Malfoy and Nero Rose who was killed while serving Voldemort – have a severe problem with all the women in my life. Every single one of them (the important ones, that is) walk all over me and know exactly how to manipulate me oh-so-cruelly.
Me, Scorpius Lucius Romeo Malfoy, son of ex-Death Eate-
Ok, fine. We won’t go there again. But still. You get the point.
First, most obvious of all, perhaps, is Mum. She comes from the infamous Rose family, so that in itself should show you some of her nature, but there is so much more underneath that standard pureblood surface.
Perhaps I shall tell you what a small part of our interaction at the end of this summer, as an example.
I was packing for school (robes on one side, muggle clothes next to them, then formal wizard robes on top and next to them all my books – in alphabetical order, naturally) then she waltzed in.
“Hello....Scorpius,” She said my name as fast as was physically possible since she loathes the fact Dad named me after his grandfather, and not by one half of her favourite couple in literature (that being Romeo). I, for one, am glad. Not that ‘Scorpius’ is much improvement, “dear. How’s my favourite son’s packing going?”
“Everything labelled and ordered.”
She sighed dramatically, rolling her bright blue eyes. “You’re such a nerd, dear.” She said in a tone that I swear Mia uses when being sarcastic. Which is twenty-four/seven for her. But, to my irritation, Mum wasn’t using her and her daughter’s preferred tone of voice. No. She was being serious. Oh, great.
“Thanks, Mum.” Now it was my turn to be sarcastic. So neh.
“I’m sorry, Scorpius. I was wondering you’d done the laundry. The normal, muggle way, dear. It works so much better than using magic.”
I stared at her incredulously. “Isn’t that why we have house elves?”
“Well yes. But it’s character building, dear. You sister’s cleaned her room.”
I couldn’t help but snort at that. “Yeah right. Mia’s room hasn’t been clean since the day you first unleashed her on it. She’s probably just made everything tiny and stuffed it under the bed.”
Mum paused. “Probably, yes. But you’re more mature. So go and wash.”
“No way.” I glared at her. “If Mia got out of it, then I do too.”
Damn. Was my initial thought. The second I heard That Voice, I knew I was screwed. Its The Voice Mia’s starting to learn to use – heaven or Merlin or Shakespeare help the boys of Hogwarts when she can use it properly.
“Fiiiiiine.” I moaned.
“And hurry up about it too. Oh and Scorpius?” I paused, one foot out of the door. Was she showing me mercy for once? One look at her glinting eyes told me no. As if my mother would show her only son sympathy; ‘so last season, darling’ as grandma Narcissa would say. “Re-arrange the books by subject - much easier that way. And do do something about your hair.” And with that, fond farewell, my mother left in a swirl of blue robes, expensive perfume and the air of a woman who knows she’s in complete and utter control.
So there you have it. My charming mum.
Onto the next most powerful female force in my life. My sister.
I know you’re thinking I’m one of the idiots who lets their mother and sister walk all over them. You haven’t met the tall, freakishly strong slice of pure evil that is Hermia Juliet Miranda Malfoy. The madwoman whose DNA Mia and I both share? Yeah, she’s addicted to the muggle playwright William Shakespeare. As in quote-him-every-bloody-day-and-carry-her-favourite-play-by-him-around-in-her-pocket obsessed. Hence our names.
Anyway, Mia is like a taller, angrier and slightly funnier version of Mum. As if one of them wasn’t bad enough as it is. Honestly, you can’t help but feel sorry for Dad and I. Especially when an argument breaks out. Honestly, I’m surprised that, between the two of them, they haven’t demolished our entire house yet.
Mia is evil. There’s simply no other word to describe her. Look in the dictionary and you’ll see her picture – electric blue eyes (another thing she got from Mum) burning fiercely out of the page, as if daring you to get on her bad side. It’s something you really don’t want to do. Trust me.
Hm...I think to give a good image of the way she can manipulate me (though, in my defence, it’s so not just me. Albus is much worse. Though he is like a drooling puppy round her), I’ll replay a scene from this summer. The four of us (me, Mia, Albus and Rose Weasley) were at my house, sunbathing in the non-existent sunlight.
“Why can’t we go in?” I whined, leaning back on my elbows and glaring at Mia. “There’s no sun! And I’m hungry.”
“Merlin, Scorpy! Why can’t you think of something other your stomach for once!”
I snorted, “Like you can talk – you eat more than Dad and me combined at dinner.”
“Are you saying I’m fat!”
“Hm...I don’t know, Mia, you have been getting a bit slower on your broom lately.” I sneered.
“Uh-oh.” I heard Albus mutter to Rose. “Here they go again.”
“At least I’m not a lazy and fuck-ugly bookworm!”
“Yeah? Tell me Mia – how many OWLs did you get again? And who got all Os apart from one E?” I thought I’d won at that point, when her shoulders dropped and eyes lost their spark. Merlin, was I an idiot.
“Yeah, I suppose. Well I’m going inside. Rose? Walk with me?”
Rose sat up and blinked her best friend before raising her eyebrows. “Why?”
“’Cause I have something very,” Here Mia paused and flicked her gaze to me, before licking her lips and grinning, “important to tell you.”
Now, there’s something I need to tell you about Mia’s grins. They aren’t normal. Imagine a perfectly ordinary, happy grin. Then imagine the same joy taken from that, add the smile Satan has when torturing innocent babies, multiply the sadistic pleasure by, like, fifty. Then you’ll have a pretty good idea of what Mia’s ‘grins’ are like.
Which is the reason my heart did a couple of back-flips before somersaulting down to the pit of my stomach where it curled up in a corner and whimpered. All due to that grin. Because Mia had learned something of my not-so-small crush on a certain Weasley. And, unfortunately for me, it wasn’t Hugo. It was Mia’s bffl.
Which is probably the reason I leapt to my feet and cried,
“Why don’t we stay out! I think the sun’s coming through...” I glanced up hopefully at the ever-darkening sky. “Damnit.”
“No thanks, Scorpy. I think Rose and I’ll be going in now. So we can talk. Alone. In my room. And swop secrets.” My twin sister (did I mention she has the soul of the devil himself?) grinned. Again.
“Or...we could...” I shot a desperate glance at Albus, one I hoped that screamed ‘save me!’. He just smiled, seeming to be enjoying my suffering at my own flesh-and-blood’s hands.
“Hm...we I suppose we could have a party instead.” I instantly glowered. “You know, since Mum and Dad are away until Tuesday and Scorpius wouldn’t dream of telling on me. And, because he’s in such a generous mood, he’s going to do all the spell work, like clearing the furniture and playing the music and getting the alcohol.”
“No. No, no and no. You are not having a party with alcohol. Not after last time.”
Mia shrugged, “Ok then, come on, Rosie.” She linked arms with the confused redhead and started leading her across the lawn.
“Alright! Fine.” I cried after them.
So now you understand the 5”9 slice of pure evil I live with.
And now, onto the last female who controls me. You’ve probably already guessed it though. Rose Weasley. I mean, look at her.
It could just be me, but I swear that Rose Weasley did not look like that last year. Not that I spent a huge amount of time noticing what she looked like or anything. But there is no way that she’s always looked the way she does now. Her auburn hair seems shinier as it swings back when she laughs at Albus’ joke. Her brown eyes seem warmer, almost as if I could wrap their comfort around me and sit through the harshest of winters without a care, as she looks at...hang on...me!
Anyway, she seems to have new air of confidence about her during, her best subject. Not that I quizzed Mia on her or anything.
Speaking of my completely insane how-the-hell-do-we-share-DNA twin sister, why is she smirking at me? With my smirk. Well, technically it’s Dad’s, and before that it was his father’s but you know. In the halls of Hogwarts, it’s mine, so why is she stealing it! I glare at her. For some unknown reason this causes her to let out an abnormally loud yell of laughter that startles the rest of our class out of their slumber – it’s a hazy summer afternoon and we’d all much rather be outside.
Honestly, Flitwick said this would be a fun lesson since we’ve finished our OWL’s, so why can’t he just let us free? Grrr. He irks me. Or rather, his idea of ‘fun’ irks me.
Suddenly a small, but remarkably hard, bludger made from paper hits my head before falling to the desk where it tries to mug my pencil case. I grab it, not without some difficulty, and prise it open to reveal a note scribbled in unmistakable handwriting. Sprawled across Dad’s best ‘Malfoy Manor’ paper (stop judging us! Just ‘cause we have cool stationery...) in irrevocably messy script is this:
Oi! Scorpy! Stop staring at Rosie – it’s tres stalker-esque and distinctly creepy. Btw, do you think Dad’ll appreciate my stealing his posh paper? ;-)
The One And Only,
Of course it’s from her. I knew it was the second I saw the bludger. Due to either her talent or slightly sadistic love of violence, Mia’s Ravenclaw’s star Beater. Still can’t quite fathom how she ended up in Ravenclaw, but you know. So I replied, charming the bludger into a snitch (since she wants to be Quidditch-orientated) with:
It’s blindingly obvious it was from you, Hermia. The disturbingly solid bludger, the fact it seemed determined to smash my quill that you’ve always hated and the practically illegible handwriting all added towards one thing; you’re bored and want to annoy your dearest sibling. So, onto my actual response. I was not staring at Rose Weasley! Why would I stare at Rose Weasley? There’s no need for me to stare at Rose Weasley. I wasn’t staring, ergo, I can’t stop. And I’m sure Dad will love you all the more for wasting his oh-so-expensive stationery.
Even from the other side of the room I see her anger at my use of her full name before she starts scribbling furiously.
Uhuh right. That’s why you said her full name three times in just as many sentences. And why you admitted you fancied her to Alby this summer.
Yours in hysterics,
(and you’re my only sibling, idiot, ergo, of course you’re my dearest one. You’re also the one I hate the most though :p)
Just as I snatch my quill up irritably to reply, the bell went (thank Merlin. Or Shakespeare, or whoever my ever-so-slightly abnormal parents believe in. Although, Mum is most definitely the weirdest), so I shoved everything into my bag, not taking any of my usual care, and pushed roughly through the other students.
“Mia!” I snarl angrily. She pauses by the door, while the rest of the class stares at us (we usually get on quite well, and it’s next to unheard of for me to express this much emotion), and smirks again before disappearing out, dragging Rose with her.
Ok. I’ve decided I will let my emotions get the better of me just this once.
There. Much better. Except now I remember that my utterly evil twin knows that I fancy her best friend and, knowing aforementioned evil, evil girl, is planning on telling her very, very soon. Ok, I need to get to Rose before Mia does.
I sprint out of the room and down the corridor, trying to see the vibrantly red heads of hair belonging to Rose and Mia. Yep, red. Dad was furious when he saw the colour of Mia’s locks – accused Mum of having an affair with a Weasley, until Mum pointed out that I’m the spitting image of Dad and Mia and I are twins. He still huffs whenever we come home from school though.
Anyway, I spotted them up ahead with Albus, as per usual, then I saw Mia sling an arm round Rose’s shoulders, and put her mouth next to her ear...and-
“Hey, Rose!” I practically squeal (there goes any shred of dignity I might have once had) before leaping, yes leaping, into step beside her. She looks at me like I’m insane while Mia leans on Albus with laughter racking her frame rather violently. Judging by the pained expression on Albus’ face as she presses her jolting body against his, she’s still happily oblivious to the effect she has on him. Both now and every other day since third year.
“Uh....Mia? I suppose there’s a good reason your apparently insane brother just popped up next to me and the fact you’re currently having a fit that, incidentally, Albus quite seems to be enjoying?” The reaction’s instantaneous. Mia straightens up, shooting death glares worthy of our Mum (if you don’t understand the gravity of that sentence, you’ve never met her) at Rose. All the while Albus’ face rapidly turns the brighter of the two colours of his tie. Rose Weasley spins to face me. “Sure, Scorpius, come on.”
With that, she curls her fingers around my wrist in a grip of iron and leads me down an apparently empty corridor.
“I bet they’ll be together by the time we go out again.” She snorts, leaning on a wall. “So? What did you want?”
“Uh...” Then the image of Mia’s wickedly grinning face pops into my head. “You!” I blurt out. Before I realise exactly what just spewed out of my mouth. “Shit!” I squeak, covering my traitorous mouth with my hands. She stands there blinking rapidly like an over-excited mole.
“What the hell did you just say!” She yells suddenly. Automatically, I cower back.
“It doesn’t matter! Forget it!”
“Sorry, Scorpius.” She sighs, before reaching out for me. I flinch back. “I’ve just waited a while to hear you say that for a while.”
Oh fuck. Move, Scorpius, move. So I do, taking her hands in mine in, what I consider to be, a remarkably considerate gesture.
“Really? How long?” I feel the smirk sliding back onto my lips – I am back people! The retarded, freakish and generally weird Scorpius Malfoy is gone for good! It is I, in my regal, super-cool and ultra- calm-
Oh my sweet Merlin – she’s smiling at me! Squeeeeeee!
Damn you Rose Weasley! You’ve turned my mind! So anyway. She smiles up at me and draws even closer and – holy shit! I think she’s going to kiss me! What do I do? What the hell do I do! Sure, I’ve kissed girls before, but not her!
This isn’t half as bad as I thought it would be.
Oh, my. Wh-what’s she doing with her tongue! I...she...o-m-g! Hey! That’s rhymed! Oh, right. The kissing. Aren’t guys supposed to be the subjugating ones? You know, take the lead? Yeah, well apparently Rose Weasley didn’t get the memo. Hm...not that I mind particularly...
This is Scorpius Lucius Romeo Malfoy, son of ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy and grandson of both current Azkaban resident Lucius Malfoy and Nero Rose who was killed while serving Voldemort, ending this little story here with the thought that, for once in my life, I don’t mind being dominated.
A/N: I did warn you it was random :-) This could be taken as a kinda sequel to Not Quite Romeo And Juliet (which is currently hidden because of the diary thing, but will hopefully be up again soon :D) but a proper sequal (with Mia, cz i love her character) is in the works but will probably be a while before it's out since i want to finish it all before i post the first chapter...
please review! you know you want to....