Chapter 4 : IV.Family
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Chapter IV- Family
Scorpius grunted loudly as he pulled his suitcase out of the closet and on to the bed. Pulling out a pair of wrinkled jeans and a green t-shirt, he trudged into the bathroom and turned the gold plated knobs adorning the black tiled wall of the shower. He had originally considered drawing a bath in the garden tub, which was built snuggly into a cubby and surrounded on three sides by a bay window. There was just enough room on the ledge for lavender scented candles and some brilliant blood colored rose petals, which he could quickly purchase at a local mart without Rose even noticing his absence. However, his sweet gesture would most likely come off as a proposition, which they usually did, and he’d mess up the romantic part of it. Rose would get angry at him for leaving, first of all, and secondly, thinking it was a good idea to take a bath in broad daylight on the first floor of a strange house, and together, no less.
Scorpius smiled at the thought of his often disgruntled wife, casting one last wistful glance toward the tub before filling his nostrils with steam from the blazing shower. He threw the ball of clothes onto the floor, and then stripped down and stepped in. The water was rapture against his skin, and he sighed deeply, running his hands through his deep chocolate hair. Nearly immediately, his knotted muscles relaxed, and Scorpius decided the moment was nearly perfect exactly three seconds before he realized there was no soap or shampoo on the shower ledge.
“Aw, damnit,” Scorpius cursed, understanding with disdain the futile and useless efforts of a shower with no cleaning agent. Dripping with water that was suddenly more frigid than the arctic sea, Scorpius tip toed out of the shower and back into the bedroom. Shivering, he reached his suitcase and pulled a small bag of toiletries from the bottom. It was at this moment that he heard Rose yell something from the other room; however, he was too cold and disgruntled to pay any attention.
Within seconds, he was back in the warm embrace of the shower, massaging shampoo into his hair. He heard the scurry of Rose’s feet before he heard her shriek his name.
“Scorpius, I know where Nate is hiding!” Rose said as she reached the bathroom.
“Where he’s hiding?” Scorpius asked.
“Yes, I think I know. When we were younger, at Hogwarts, Nate, James, Lorelei Macmillan and I used to sneak away to the Shrieking Shack on Hogsmeade days. It sounds stupid, for him to hide somewhere so well known, but Nate is such a pompous ass, I wouldn’t put it past him to hide in plain sight. I think I have to go.”
“Rosie, why don’t you come in here with me, and we’ll talk about this later?” Scorpius asked hopefully, opening the glass door. Rose immediately put her hands on her hips and began to tap her foot wildly.
“Scorpius, you can’t be serious! This is a break through, we need to leave now!”
“Come on. We can’t leave right now, anyway. You’re all dirty, and I’m all smelly, and I think that’s priority number one.”
Rose sighed and slipped her clothes off to join him. Scorpius sighed happily and drank in his wife’s beautiful form as she climbed in. The minute the water hit her, Scorpius stifled any lingering off hand comments with his lips. A few seconds later, she pulled away and smiled at him.
“I just want you to know, that I am in this shower for a few reasons. The first and most important reason is that I want to look presentable if I truly am to meet Nate again today. It’s not nice when a person that looks strangely like a hobo attacks someone with their fingernails and several debilitating spells, so I’ll dress smartly in a skirt to prevent that image. The second reason is that there is absolutely no way I could stand there and listen to you whine while I try to have a serious conversation with you. And finally, there’s really nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Laughing at her adorably crooked smile, Scorpius pinned her swiftly against the wall and made the most of their shower.
Afterward, they toweled off and readied themselves for a trip back in to England, back to their old stomping grounds. Still, Scorpius had doubts about leaving their safe haven in Monte Carlo.
“You’re sure about this one, Rosie? I think it’s a little risky to leave right now…especially since my dad said he was trying to fix things. We could get in a lot of trouble here, especially if you’re seen. You read the paper this morning, they’re going to be looking everywhere for us.”
Rose shook her head as she slipped on a pair of jeans.
“I’ve got to know, Scorp. I feel like I can talk a little bit of sense into him, if I could just see him. I know that I can fix this. He’s alive, I’m not guilty, and I want to show him that things will be ok.”
“It would really, really help me if you would just tell me what happened in the bar. I’m your husband, you can tell me anything, sweetie. I promise I won’t pass judgment on you, I just feel like I need to know.” His voice was gentle as he prodded her once more, desperate for the information of her predicament.
“I promise, I’ll explain everything soon. I just need you to trust me for right now. I’ll tell you everything. Let’s just get to the shrieking shack now. And let’s take everything with us. I don’t want to leave any loose ends behind, ok?”
Scorpius was grateful not to have been snipped at for once, yet he could not shake the feeling that something was a little off about her premonition. Nevertheless, he packed up all of their things, grumbling about only spending one night on the beautiful beaches of Monte Carlo. Rose rolled her eyes at his stubborn childishness. Within minutes they were ready, and, after bidding Lurry farewell, disapparated, along with their belongings, to Hogsmeade.
Hugo Weasley was tired of learning about crime. The past few days had been highly uncomfortable at school. His sister was a fugitive, and all of his trainers at the auror institute had picked up a nasty habit of staring at Hugo during class, as though he would jump up abruptly in the middle of a lesson and reveal her location. When she had first gone missing, the school had given him a pass to the ministry to give testimony regarding her whereabouts.
He told the investigators the same thing he told all of his friends—he hadn’t spoken to Rose in nearly six months. He had no greater a lead on the case then they did.
At 23 years old, Hugo was very tall and thin with a mess of vibrant red hair, freckles, and clear blue eyes. A Weasley through and through, following in his father’s footsteps gave him great pride. One of the major drawbacks, however, was living in a world where he and his family were extraordinarily well known, especially in the ministry. It was something he had dealt with his entire life, but the connection to his sister was making the days a little more intense. It was for this reason that he decided to use his free Saturday to drop by his parent’s house to pay them a long overdue visit.
Hugo lived by himself in a small, messy, hole-in-the-wall flat on a busy street in London. It was a cheap studio with sparse furniture, save for a tattered easy chair and an ancient coffee table from his grandparent’s house. An old mattress was stacked against the wall, a mess of ratty blankets piled haphazardly on the floor beside it. It definitely wasn’t a posh pad, but it was all Hugo needed to get by. He took a quick visual sweep of the dreary gray walls before disapparating to his parents’ house.
He arrived within seconds, noting the beautiful blue sky and the sunshine that enveloped the house, making the spotless window gleam invitingly. He smiled and skirted the outside of the short wooden fence surrounding the perimeter of the property before reaching the modest gate. His grandmother was outside, on her knees, pulling stubborn weeds out of the flower garden underneath the kitchen window.
“Gran!” Hugo called, taking care not to startle her. She looked up and smiled warmly at him. He immediately noticed both her hands messily wrapped in a cloth that was dotted with blood.
“Hugo, what a wonderful surprise! Your father will be so very happy to see you! It has been quite a while.” She moved to stand, but the wince on her face signaled the pain radiating down the brittle bones in her legs.
“Here, Gran, let me help you up,” he said, running to her side. He stuck out a hand, and Molly grudgingly grabbed ahold of it, grunting as she got up. “You really shouldn’t be down on your knees like that.”
“Well, these gardens aren’t going to weed themselves. Not that I haven’t tried, believe me. I don’t know why Ron won’t allow garden gnomes on the property, they were always so helpful to me. If Hermione wants flowers so much, one of them ought to be out here doing this! It’s a shame too, the flowers are so lovely this time of year.”
“Ok, Gran. Well, I’ll talk to Dad about it.”
He helped her inside and then went to find his father. The house seemed to be vacant, but a more thorough search revealed that his father was in the backyard, sitting on the porch swing. Hugo pushed open the door and went out into the bright sunshine, startling Ron.
“Oh—Hugo! Hi son, it’s good to see you.” He didn’t get up to greet Hugo, but that was fine by him. Hugo took a seat next to him.
“Hey, Dad. Where’s Mum?”
“Dunno. She’s been gone all morning. Doesn’t bother to tell me what’s on her agenda.”
“Right. I just thought the two of you might be able to use a bit of company. They’ve been riding me pretty hard at school, especially…given recent events.” He waited no time to broach the subject of his sister; he needed someone to understand the conditions he was working under.
“I’d imagine they are, and not just because it’s your final semester. Brought in for questioning?” Ron spoke very conversationally, taking a sip from a cup of tea everyone once in a while.
“Yeah. I’ve had to tell them many times that I don’t know where Rosie is. I haven’t heard anything from her in nearly half a year.” It pained Hugo to admit this to his father for some reason, as though her deviance from them was his fault.
“Neither have I, Hugo. They’ve taken me off the case…every case, actually, just for a while. Until this all blows over. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about resigning anyway. Your Uncle George has been having some issues with the joke shop lately, and I think maybe it’s time I go and help him with it.”
Hugo’s mouth dropped, his eyebrows wrinkling in disbelief. His father, not an auror anymore? He could barely comprehend the thought.
“But…Dad! You love being an auror! I wanted to be one because of all your amazing stories growing up. And you’re saying now we might not even work together anymore?”
“Now, I didn’t say that. I haven’t even run any of this by your mother, yet, so don’t run your mouth off. All I’m saying is that they’ve got me sidelined until this blows over, and I don’t know how long it’s going to be. It’s the most unreal situation, son. I can’t work because my daughter is a fugitive…and I don’t know how to deal with it right now. I don’t mean to dump all that on you. Your mother is a busy woman, and I can’t disturb her career, heavens no.”
He could sense the sarcasm dripping heavily from his father’s voice, but he didn’t comment on it. Hugo had seen his parents have their fair share of arguments, but he’d never heard disdain that potent in his father’s tone. A sudden rustling from within side the house alerted them to Hermione’s presence, and she was on the porch in seconds, smiling wildly at her son. He stood to give her a warm hug, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume that always made him feel home.
“Why does your mother have bandages on her hands?” Hermione asked, failing to greet her husband.
“Dad threw his breakfast at her, and she picked up the pieces of the broken plate with her hands. I cleaned it as best I could.”
Hermione’s face softened instantly, and emotion swiftly clouded her eyes.
“Today’s not a good day,” she said quietly.
“No, it’s not. Where did you run off to this morning?” Ron asked.
“I had an errand to run, no big deal. Hugo, why don’t you come inside with me? I’ll make you some lunch, provided I can steal the oven away from your Gran!” Hugo complied, leaving what was becoming a bizarre conversation with his father.
He made small talk with his mother while she fixed some small sandwiches for everyone. She asked the obligatory school questions, neatly avoiding any talk of Rose. It made Hugo extremely uncomfortable to blatantly avoid any talk about his sister, who used to paint the house with her warm smile. His mother pushed two small plates toward him.
“Would you take that in to your grandfather? I just can’t deal with it today.” Hugo nodded, feeling guilty for not wanting to see his grandfather. He walked quickly to Arthur’s room, which was hidden in the back of the house. The door to his room was cracked, and Hugo popped his head in. Arthur Weasley was bathed in the glow of a muggle television set, which he had asked for in one of his lucid moments. Hugo knocked lightly on the door, and heard a voice granting entrance.
“Hi, grandfather. Mum made you a sandwich for lunch.” He sat it down on a table next to the couch where Arthur spent most of his days.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“What kind of sandwich is it, Bill? I hope it’s turkey. Your Mum sure does make a good turkey sandwich.” Hugo looked down at the floor, an uncomfortable chill clinging to the back of his neck.
“It’s turkey, I think.”
“Thanks, Bill. I really appreciate you helping your mother out. She’s got her hands full with all those kids. Would you tell her to come in here and see me before I go back off to work?”
“You’re welcome. I’ll tell her.”
Hugo sighed as he escaped the room. His grandfather hadn’t recognized him for a while now, but that was the first time he’d ever been called Bill, after his uncle. Before returning to the kitchen, he made a pit stop at his grandmother’s quarters. Her bed was made flawlessly, and everything had its place. Pictures of her children hung on the wall, and the clock that had inhabited the Burrow sat in the corner. Hugo glanced at all the familiar relics from the old house before turning to address her. She was sitting at a vanity, meticulously pinning the copious amount of frizz that had deviated in the thick humidity of the afternoon. He knocked on the door, and she waved him in.
“Gran, I just wanted to tell you that Grandfather requested that you come in to see him before…well, before he goes off to work.”
Molly Weasley smiled warmly and nodded at him.
“Of course, dear. He gets a little confused, that’s all. I’ll go to see him, and he’ll realize he isn’t going anywhere. He can barely find the bathroom nowadays, and sometimes he forgets how to do little things that you and I take for granted. His magic is really weak, and I don’t know that he could even do much more than light the tip of a wand. We’ll be ok, Hugo, don’t you worry. It was nice of you to stop in and see him, I know he misses you kids a lot.”
“I miss him, too.”
“Me too, Hugo. Me too.”
Closing the door to her room, Hugo returned to the kitchen feeling completely downtrodden.
“Ok, Mum. Done.”
“I went to see Draco Malfoy today,” she blurted out, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I couldn’t tell your father because he would have wanted to come too, and I needed to do it on my own. I think Malfoy knows where your sister is.”
Hugo slowly walked up to the table and sat down, carefully weighing his words.
“Why are you telling me? You should tell Dad.”
“I will,” she said, poking at her sandwich. “I plan on going back later today, with your father, to try and get more information out of him. I just…I needed to tell someone. Of course Malfoy denied it, with that stupid little smirk and his snide remarks. I’m tired of it, Hugo. I’m tired of his indifference to our family’s situation. I could deal with it when we were kids, and I deal with it at the ministry, but I refuse to entertain his apathy when it comes to my daughter!” His mother’s voice was unsteady, and her color flushed pink as her rage ignited.
“Mum, please. I don’t know Mr. Malfoy well, all I know is the stories you’ve told me growing up. And I really think you should be discussing this with Dad. In fact, I’m going to go ahead and leave. Please talk to each other.” He stood to leave but his mother shot her hand across the table and snaked her fingers around his thin forearm.
“I’m sorry, Hugo. I’m sorry, please don’t go. We’ve really missed you around here,” Hermione begged. “Everything has just been so difficult ever since Rosie went and married that boy, and now that she’s been…accused of this murder…and escaped from jail…I just want to know where she is, I want to know she’s ok.”
Her brash actions startled Hugo, and he lowered himself back to the chair as he heard his father enter the kitchen.
“What’s the matter?” Ron asked, sensing the heavy tension of the room. Hermione glanced tentatively at her son before addressing her hesitant husband.
“Ron…I miss Rose…” It was a simple sentence, but the words resonated as though Hermione Weasley had just made a profound speech regarding an important social issue. Ron answered with a move that would be considered by most outsiders to be a simple gesture between two married people—he walked over to his wife, pulled her up from her chair, and wrapped her in a hug. But Hugo knew it was a 180 degree shift in attitudes and body language, as the two people who had raised him with a firm but loving hand reverted back to the supportive, complimentary duo that they had always been, free from the extraneous drama of disappearing daughters and dementia-stricken parents.
“I do too, honey.” The two broke apart and Ron took a seat at the table.
“Mum,” Hugo admonished, hoping she would take advantage of the brief openness the two had just shared. Hermione sighed and dropped her head into her hands.
“Ron,” she began, refusing to look at him, “this morning, I went to visit Draco Malfoy to find out if he knew anything about Rose or Scorpius. I think he does know…and I think I need to press harder…threaten him with some real action. I can’t believe he would hide her from us.”
“You…went to see Malfoy? You could have told me, I would have gone with you.” Hurt flashed in Ron’s eyes.
“I know it, but I needed to talk to him by myself first, to test the waters. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I do want you to come back with me though…later today. I think Malfoy knows I’m coming back. Or at least he should. He’s still as much as an awful person as he was in school. “
The scowl on Ron’s face matched Hermione’s, and Hugo smiled, standing up from the table.
“Well, my work here is done. Glad I could have been of service, but I really have to be getting back to my flat. I’ve got some paperwork to do before my first field assignment with my mentor.” He’d been waiting to tell them together, and any tension left in the room melted as both of his parent’s faces broke out into huge smiles.
“Congratulations, son! That’s big news! I still remember my first assignment, seems like yesterday—“
“Oh, not this old story again. Well done, Hugo, we are so, so proud of you.”
“Thanks Mum, Dad. I’ll be off now, but please, stop fighting. It doesn’t suit you.”
He hugged both parents goodbye, and as he was leaving, he broke into a laugh as he heard his father call out “Next time, bring home a pretty girl!”
“This is absolutely divine, Astoria,” Draco Malfoy gushed, shoveling another bite of his wife’s famous roast into his mouth. Astoria’s mouth curved up delightedly.
“I’m so pleased you like it. I’m thinking that we had better get this table cleaned up soon, if you are still expecting your ‘friends’ to show up. Have I mentioned to you how unbelievably rude that is, Draco? They should go about it a proper way if they’d like to request a meeting. I don’t agree with this one bit,” Astoria said, pursing her lips.
“I know, love. I don’t agree with it, either, but they’ll stop at nothing to find Rose. Maybe it’s better if they are in the know. They won’t stop bothering me until they do, and they are Rose’s parents. There’s just a part of me that truly believes that if Hermione Weasley finds out where her daughter is, she’ll turn her in, because she’s such a suck up at the ministry. I’d believe it of her to turn in her own daughter.”
“Positively ruthless…no concern for family. What is the matter with people, these days? Does family mean nothing anymore? The blood that runs through Rose’s veins may not be pure, but she’s their daughter. Don’t you tell her where Scorp and Rose are. They need to be safe until we can figure out a way to fix this.”
“I won’t,” Draco assured her. “Not in a million years.”
A brisk pound on the front door alerted them to their uninvited dinner guests.
“Just brilliant. Absolutely uncalled for. I’ll be cleaning this up—don’t give me that face, I’ll put the rest of it away for later, you won’t starve! Invite our…guests in for drinks, and I’ll be there in a bit.” Draco smiled at his wife and pulled her into a kiss. The knocking continued, the cadence quickening every few seconds.
“I miss house elves. Bloody Hermione Weasley,” Draco muttered, leaving the ornate cherry wood dining table and making his way from the kitchen to the main corridor to answer the fury behind the door. The second Draco twisted the handle and began to pull back the monstrous door, a flash of red flew past him and into the main hall.
“You!” the deep voice spat, his wand pointed ominously at Draco. “You tell me where my daughter is, you piece of filth. Tell me where she is!”
“Ron! For God’s sake, would you stop it!” The female voice, still standing on the porch, pleaded.
Draco was slightly taken aback, but his instincts were still lightening speed as he pulled his own wand from his robes and pointed it at Ron.
“You son of a bitch, you think your wand scares me? It doesn’t! Now you listen to me, I don’t care about your kin, I don’t want to hear anything about him, but you tell me where Rosie is.”
“Ronald Weasley, stop it!” his wife pleaded, not a hair out of place as she stepped into the manor. “We’re here to talk to him, not kill him.”
“Lower your wand, if you know what’s good for you, Weasley,” Draco snarled, his position steady.
“Fine!” With that, he brought the wand back down to his side, eyeing Draco carefully. “Invite me in for some tea. You certainly are a rude host.”
Draco glanced at Hermione, rage bubbling inside of him. His breath came in quick rasps, and he growled some quick directions to the formal sitting room. Hermione grabbed on to Ron’s arm and lead him toward the room. In a brief moment of solidarity, Draco recounted the struggles he’d endured trying to prove he was no longer affiliated with any death eaters or other outlaws, including his own family. These hardships would be for naught if he performed unforgivable curses on Weasley, no matter how very much he wanted to see the great idiot writhe on the floor. Breathing deeply for only a few moments, he balanced his feelings and set off toward the meeting.
“Now then,” Draco began, sitting down in a black leather chair, “what exactly was it you were here for?”
“Rose.” Ron Weasley’s voice was a guttural snarl, and Draco very nearly laughed.
“She isn’t here, Weasley. Neither is Scorpius. Furthermore, I am at a complete loss as to why you think I’ve been in contact with them. She is your daughter, surely she would contact you if she needed something. I have given you no indication that she has been here, or that I have talked to her.”
“They told you about their marriage, didn’t they?” Hermione asked, clearly stung at the memory of discovering that the Malfoys were invited to the ceremony and the Weasleys were not.
“They did. I was not aware that Rose failed to tell you until after the ceremony. I didn’t influence that decision in anyway. But I don’t understand why you presume to think it is ok for the both of you to drop in on us, especially during dinner, without any kind of appointment. It has greatly upset my wife, and I will ask you one time to not do this again. If you wish to have an appointment with me, you can contact my secretary. I trust you can manage that, Weasley.”
“I don’t have to make appointments when my daughter is concerned. I think you’re lying. I will find out why, and if you die in the process, then it’s a necessary loss,” Ron said, still clutching his wand.
“I will not be threatened in my own home!” Draco stood, his form intimidating to anyone but the two figures standing in opposition. “I don’t care who the two of you think you are, auror or not, magical law enforcement or not. I may not have the same standing in society that my father had, but I am still well respected in some circles—“
“I’m well respected in all circles,” Ron yelled furiously, he lifted his wand and hesitated, as though he were trying to pick the perfect curse to hurl at Draco.
“Are you joking? Have you gone completely mad? This has gone far enough!” Draco exclaimed, readying himself for duel in his formal sitting room. How angry Astoria would be at the burn marks that were sure to cover the upholstery!
“Please.” It was a sound that neither man expected, a small whimper that sliced through the anger and decades old hatred that lingered in the room. Draco’s jaw fell as he looked over at the source of the noise- Hermione Weasley had tears rolling down her face. It was a scene that he would never have expected from the uptight matriarch of the obnoxious family. Ron seemed to freeze in his spot as he listened to the soft sobs issuing from his wife.
“She’s my only daughter. I just want to know she’s ok. Please, if you know anything. If it were your son…please,” she begged, her brown eyes burrowing holes into Draco.
“I have told you,” Draco began guiltily, “I don’t know where they are. I wish I did—“
“They are in France, in Monte Carlo.”
“Astoria!” Draco’s head whipped around to find Astoria standing in the hall, unable to rip her eyes away from grieving mother. Stunned in to silence by her insolence, Draco seethed, balling his hand into a fist and grinding his teeth to keep from exploding at her.
“Why in the hell are they in Monte Carlo? Did they think it would be a swell time for a few cocktails and a round of cards? While we’re sitting here, fretting over her disappearance, and she’s on a vacation?”
“Thank you,” Hermione whispered, looking at Astoria and ignoring her husband’s rant.
“If it were me, I’d be even more of a mess. They’re perfectly safe at a location, in Draco’s father’s old vacation home. No one knows of its existence, and they are using the time to figure out what is next.”
“Changed your mind, did you?” Draco asked through his teeth, glaring in Astoria’s direction.
“And you, I knew you knew! You son of a bitch.”
“And now you know. Now please leave. You got what you came for.” Draco was through with them, and he wanted to have a good long talk with his wife about what loyalty meant.
“Take me to her. I want to see her. I just want her to know we love her,” Hermione said.
“Absolutely not. Have you lost your entire mind, Hermione? The fact that you know their general location is a security risk for them. Maybe you won’t go and tell it to the ministry, but anyone can get in your head and look. I refuse to take you to them. I will give them any messages you would like to send, but you absolutely can not go to them. Even you should understand that.”
“You are insulting my wife now?” Ron asked dangerously, looking for any reason at all to engage Draco in a battle.
“No, I’m telling her what she already knows. Go home. Know that they are safe. And for God’s sake, Weasley, take a shower. I can smell you from here.” Draco smirked and motioned toward the exit, hoping they would take the hint and leave, hopefully forever.
“Ron, don’t, it’s not worth it. He’s right, unfortunately. Come on.”
Hermione stood, her face devoid of all the emotion that had been there only moments before, and lead Ron out of the house without another word. Draco sighed in relief, putting his head into his hands for only a moment before rising to look at his wife.
“I’ll have words with you later,” he said sternly.
“Oh, you’ll have nothing,” she countered, moving closer to him. “After listening to them, I realized that Hermione is probably not sleeping or eating, by the looks of her. She just needed some reassurance. This doesn’t mean that I agree at all with the events of the past and how they have been laid out; however, she had a right to know that her daughter was safe. And now she knows.”
“Too right. I’ll be back soon, I’m going to go to France for a while, to at least let them know that everything is ok.”
“Why can’t you just send an owl? You’re just going to go to France? That’s a long way…”
“Only a few minutes of travel time, nothing too awful. And no, we can’t risk owls being intercepted.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her briefly on the lips. “I love you, even though there are times that I just don’t understand you, not at all.”
“And thus is the mystery that is woman.” Astoria smiled and ran a manicured nail through Draco’s platinum locks. “You better get back soon, because a woman won’t wait all night, you know.”
“Don’t tempt me, Babe. I’ve got moves you’ve never seen,” He said, twirling her quickly around so that her back rested against his chest. He ran lips down her warm porcelain skin, kissing her from her hairline all the way down to her shoulders.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen all your moves, Draco. Now hurry up. Like I said, I won’t be kept waiting!” He laughed and kissed the top of her head before releasing her to gather a few things to take with him to France.
A/N: Ok, well this chapter just kept getting longer and longer, and I couldn’t figure out where to stop. I’m still not completely happy with it, but oh well. Next chapter there’s a very interesting surprise waiting for Rose and Scorpius in Hogsmeade, and Draco finds a surprise of his own in France. So what did you think? Let me know! :)
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