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Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon by Merope
Chapter 1 : Surprise News
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 10


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A/N So this was my entry for the HPFF/Figment competiton. It didn't win anything, but I'm still quite pleased with it, so if you read, I'd really like to know what you thought. Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling, except for the plot. Enjoy. :)

 




“I think we should have picked a more...neutral place,” said Scorpius Malfoy staring uncomfortably at the crooked building before him.

“What’s wrong with The Burrow?”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it....”

“Then why don’t you think it’s a good place?” Rose Weasley couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at him in a questioning glare. She smirked a little when he became uncomfortable under her gaze. He even scratched his head and looked away, pretending to be very interested in a Weasley garden gnome scratching its backside.

A-hem,” Rose coughed.  

“It’s umm...beautiful as a building,” he added, “but...Rose, it really does define the name of Weasley.”

“Scorpius,” she started seriously, “It looks like a shit-hole.”

“Right...but....”

“Don’t interrupt me!” she snapped. “It may not be beautiful, but it really is a huge part of me. And since we agreed that I am to do most of the talking, I’d really appreciate doing it in a place that I am comfortable in. And that is not going to be Malfoy Manor.”

“I didn’t say we should do it at Malfoy Manor.”

“But you implied it.”

“I didn’t imply anything,” he exclaimed getting slightly angry. “I was thinking more of a restaurant.”

“No,” she answered determinedly.

“What’s wrong with that nice new restaurant on Diagon Alley?”

“It’s too impersonal. And, as you well know, there might be a scene. Actually, you know there will be a scene!”

“The Burrow is impersonal to me and my parents...” he started in a skulking voice.

“Not for long,” Rose butted in stepping closer to him until her strawberry perfumed hair and warm breath intoxicated him. His eyes softened a little as she removed a strand of messy blonde hair from his eyes and caressed his cheek. “The war finished a long time ago, Scorpius. It’s time our parents faced their differences. Why are you so scared?”

“I’m not scared. I just think that my parents wouldn’t consider coming here. My father would vehemently refuse, as for my mother...oh no....why are you smiling like that, Rose Weasley?”

“Because,” she started innocently, “ I didn’t write the place they’d be coming to when I sent the letter and the port-key,” she finished in a playful voice, reminiscent of her fifth year Fred-and-George-Weasley-prank-phase. “I did mention that to you didn’t I?” she added starting to walk towards the Burrow, leaving Scorpius no choice but to follow her, as if her were entangled in her auburn hair.

“You sent my parents a letter...and a port-key?” he asked rather faintly feeling as if he had been attacked by a dozen carnivorous eggs that devoured his flesh and then digested it.

“Technically, you sent them a letter. I forged your writing,” she replied sweetly going in without knocking.

“Oh crap.”

 


 

 


 

“Amazing these muggles...can you believe that they have these machines that can fly in the air? They call them air-plones. I’ve been lucky to see one on a field trip in muggle London...fascinating inventions, don’t you think?”

Scorpius mumbled a yes to Arthur Weasley and looked towards the kitchen, hoping that Rose would hurry up and save him. In the past half an hour since they had been inside The Burrow, Rose’s grandfather went through the wonders of muggle cars, muggle mobile phones, muggle buses, rubber ducks and their various uses and finally the air-plones.

“I have to take you to my shed.”

“I beg your pardon?”asked Scorpius raising his eyebrows in a questioning and rather nervous glare.

“Yes, yes, the shed. I have assembled a collection of various muggle objects. My sons don’t seem to be very interested in them, but it really is nice to meet a young man, who is as interested in them as I am.”

Scorpius tried finding the exact moment when it was that he forged interest, but failed to remember. He smiled politely at Mr Wesley, finding it safer not to say another word. Maybe that way, the older man would forget about his dubious shed.

“Who did you say your parents were, again?” asked Arthur changing the subject.

“I didn’t,” replied Scorpius, delaying the moment by sipping his tea and looking out of the window at the accumulating storm clouds. This was bound to be a long afternoon, he thought exhaling a long sight and mentally preparing himself for Mr Weasley’s reaction when the name Malfoy would escape his lips.

“Arthur! Come and help me with the turkey, will you?”

Mr Weasley excused himself with a brief, “I’ll be right back, wife demands my presence,” and then went out of the drawing room, permitting Scorpius to breathe properly and lay back on the worn-out couch. If he looked left, he could partly see the dining room, where a table with various chairs of various shapes and sizes were arranged. He could almost picture his parents sitting there uncomfortably, giving him murderous glares. He closed his eyes, trying to find courage within him but failing miserably.

“Guess what?”

He jumped a little as Rose threw herself on the couch next to him.

“What?”

“Nana Molly’s on our side,” she said with a grin, revealing her slightly-larger-than-normal-but-still attractive-to-him front teeth.

“You told her?”

“Of course I have,” she sighted taking his hand in her own and caressing it. There was no person in the world that could sense his stress-levels as well as Rose Weasley could. There was no person on earth that loved him as much as she did. He offered her a small smile that quickly disappeared when the door-bell rang.

“Oh, they’re here!” exclaimed Rose excitedly, jumping from the couch and running to the front door to greet her parents.

And as soon as she was gone, there was a loud pop in the air as Draco and Astoria Malfoy appeared in the Burrow’s excuse for a drawing room, holding a mangy old boot for a port-key, giving their son confused and peculiarly annoyed looks.

“Scorpius...?”

Merlin help me, though Scorpius, hoping with all his heart that “Nana Molly’s approval” was enough to stop his father from spitting fire. Yet something deep within him was screaming at him to run as far away from that place as possible and hide under a rock.

 


 

 


 

“Let me get this straight...you’re getting married?”

“That’s right.”

“With a Weasley?”

“Rose please tell me you’re joking.”

“Not at all, dad.”

“But he’s a Malfoy!” spat Ron through gritted teeth, looking at his daughter as if she stabbed him through the heart with a fork.  

“Ron! Please, let’s be civil,” Hermione butted in, looking slightly uncomfortably at Draco and Astoria.

“No, that’s right,” started Draco, making sure he highlighted that he was a few inches taller than Ron. In fact, he towered over all of them, exhaling an air of annoying superiority. “He is a Malfoy...which is precisely why he is not going to marry a Weasley.”

“That’s not your decision to make. I am marrying a Weasley. We’re engaged and...”

“And we’re in love,” Rose cut in giving Scorpius weary looks. “It’s all that matters.”

“That’s too spontaneous even for you,” said Hermione, “besides, you are only twenty years old...you are both young and for all you know you could be making such a huge mistake...”

“There’s only one way of finding out, mom. We’ve made our choice and nothing is going to stop us.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Astoria cut in. “Scorpius, what about your plans of going around the world, brewing new potions, getting a career?”

“I can do that later. This is what I want. Why don’t you consider that?” he asked addressing both his parents. Ron snorted but Hermione gave him a sharp look.

“My son is not going to marry a weasel,” Draco exclaimed, his nose flaring with fire.

“My daughter is not going to marry a bloody ferret!” exclaimed Ron taking one step towards Draco.

“Don’t you dare insult my son like that!”

“You’re the one who called my daughter a hairy weasel!” Ron was about to take his wand out, but Hermione gave him her special, if-you-do-this-you-are-sleeping-on-the-couch-for-a-month look and he grumpily placed it back in his pocket, wishing that he could jinx Draco with looks.

“She is a weasel, just like the rest of your carrot family!” spat Draco with acidity.

 “ENOUGH!” roared Scorpius and both men fell silent. Draco looked as if he had been slapped across the face by a wet and smelly fish.  “Seriously?”

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, we are going home!”

“No you are not. You are going to sit your ass down and eat that turkey!”

Everyone turned around to look at Molly Wesley who was standing in the doorway, holding a tray with plates and cutlery. She had a very fierce look on her face, a look that made three Malfoys and three Weasleys sit down very uncomfortably at the dinner table, giving each other murderous glares and feeling very much like primary-school children. Rose saw her winking as she went out of the room and couldn’t help smiling.

Dinner was served in silence and eyes avoided to look at one another. But the depressing tension was soon interrupted by a loud pop in the drawing room, a vase breaking as it hit the floor, someone swearing, casting a Reparo charm and then exhaling a long relieved sight, as if the person knew the trouble he’d otherwise get in with Mrs Weasley.

“Hugo,” exclaimed Rose very happy to see her little eighteen-year-old brother that seemed to tower over everyone else in the room. His auburn hair was messy and sticking in every direction as if it had fought with the wind and his eyes seemed to be the most alive eyes in the room.  

“Sorry I’m late, Quidditch overran. Hey there Scorp, how are you mate?” he asked shaking hands with the blond wizard. He was about to sit down, when Ron said through gritted teeth:

Mate?”

Hugo looked utterly confused .

“Hugo Weasley, you sit down here,” he said pointing towards the side of the table where the Weasleys were accumulated, “or I will disown you!”

“Really?”

“No!” exclaimed Hermione, pinching Ron’s upper leg underneath the table. “Dad’s just kidding.”

“No I am not!”

“Yes you are, Ronald!” snapped Hermione. Ron fell quiet.

“What’s going on?” asked Hugo, finally realising that Scorpius’ parents were sitting at the table as well.

“We’re getting married,” said Rose with a weary look.

“Oh, wow, congratulations!” Hugo leaned in to kiss his sister, and he didn’t break the hug for a while.

“Thank you, that was the reaction we were waiting for,” said Rose, making sure to give Ron a murderous glare as she said it. Ron snorted.

“Come, Hermione, we’re going,” he said standing up in such a fuss that he made the chair fall over. He gave Scorpius and Draco his last murderous glare as his face was red and Rose could practically see fire flaring out of his ears. Hermione mouthed a quick “we’ll-talk-about-this-when-he-calms-down” and then disapparated with her husband, casting apologetic looks towards her daughter.

“So, you still insist on getting married?” asked Draco eventually standing up. Everyone else the table also stood up and Draco seemed pleased with their reaction as if he had some sort of control over them.

“Yes,” replied Scorpius in a hard voice.

“Then you are no son of mine.”

Draco!

“I mean it, Astoria! Come, we’re leaving,” he said, ignoring his son’s poisonous look and heading towards the door. He opened it, then slammed it shut, for some peculiar reason deciding that the garden was a better place to disapparate from than The Burrow. Before this could happen, however, one of the famous Weasley garden gnomes jumped upon Draco’s leg as if it were Achilles in the battle of Troy and bit, as hard as it could. Draco let out an angry roar, shaking his leg to and fro until the small creature let go, overcome with dizziness. Draco was about to kick it far, but Astoria got hold of his hand and they disapparated with a loud pop.

 


 

 


 

“That went well,” said Rose sardonically, still sitting at the dinner table with Scorpius and Hugo. Hugo seemed to have a rather big appetite as he finished the pieces of turkey from nearly every plate.

“Don’t worry, they’ll come through. I’m sure dad’s just surprised...if he gets to know Scorp he’ll like him.”  Hugo gave Rose reassuring looks. “Listen you two, I have to go...I promised Jessica I will take her to a muggle cinema. She’s really excited.”

 “Don’t tell granddad Arthur that, or he’ll come with you,” added Rose as Hugo let out a small laugh, stood up form the table and attempted to rearrange his hair.

“Is that Hugo I hear?”

“Oh, crap!”

“Go!”urged Rose trying not to laugh. Hugo disapparated as Arthur Weasley popped his head in the living room.

“No, that was just Scorpius,” said Rose.

“Where’s everyone? I thought you were meant to have dinner.”

“They went to...err...admire the gnomes in the garden.”

“Right....right,” said Arthur and with that went away, mumbling something about muggle garden decorations.  

  Once they were yet again alone, Scorpius got hold of Rose’s hand as she leaned her head on his shoulder. They both closed their eyed for a moment, being very grateful for the sudden quietness and calm air that engulfed the dining room.

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

“He didn’t mean it,” said Scorpius in a dismissive voice as if Draco threatened him this way on the weekly basis.  

A moment of silence followed in which they tried to ignore the disapproving voices of their parents that still created earthquakes in their heads.

“Scorp?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think we should have told them I’m pregnant?”

“No,” he half exclaimed. His eye even twitched a little. “No...that should definitely come later. Please let me organise the next surprise dinner...I don’t want to tickle any more sleeping dragons.”

“It’s all yours,” said Rose feeling rather tired. “And, Scorp?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you also tell them its twins?”

 

 The End

 

 
 




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