In My Life

Chapter 2

That afternoon, Draco was surprised by a visit from Scorpius. After enduring his usual bear hug, Draco ushered his son into one of the small sitting rooms and ordered tea.

“What brings you here on a Thursday?” he asked. Scorpius visited every Sunday afternoon without fail, but rarely came any other time.

“I just needed a break from the house,” Scorpius said wearily. “It has been an especially horrid week, and Hilda is away, so I have nobody at all to hold an intelligent conversation with.”

“Ah,” Draco said. He certainly understood. Life with Julius and Justine could be exasperating. But Scorpius usually had his wife to commiserate with him—they were at least in solidarity when it came to their son and daughter-in-law, although they were not particularly close. “Where is Hilda?”

“She and one of her friends from her watercolor class decided to go to the south of France for two weeks to paint,” Scorpius said dryly.

“She paints?” Draco asked.

“She dabbles,” Scorpius said with a shrug. “But she’s never been serious enough about it before to go away. This trip was so spur-of-the-moment that I can’t help but think she was just trying to escape the Manor.”

“Why?” Draco asked, filled with curiosity. “What’s happened to make it so intolerable?”

“Justine has gone on rampage,” Scorpius said, shaking his head in disgust. “She has decreed that the whole house, including our wing, must be kept completely spotless from now on. The poor house-elves have been running themselves ragged, because Justine has been threatening clothes every time she sees even a particle of dust. She hasn’t dared take quite that attitude with Hilda and me yet, but the glare she gave us on Monday when we came into the house from a walk in the gardens practically took the mud off our shoes for us.”

Draco snorted. “The glares are nothing new, but she’s never cared about cleanliness before.”

“Ah, but that’s not all,” Scorpius continued. “The house-elves have also been forbidden to prepare any food that isn’t utterly healthful. For days, we’ve eaten nothing but whole-grain breads, salad, and yogurt. On the rare occasions that we are allowed meat, it is so lean I can barely cut it.”

“Justine has been on a diet?” Draco asked incredulously. “What could have brought this on?”

“Our family has been blessed with glorious news,” Scorpius said dramatically. Draco smirked at his tone, and cocked his head, waiting for the pronouncement. “The Malfoys shall be without an heir no longer, for lo, Justine is with child.”

Draco paused for a moment, startled by the news, then said, “It’s about time! How long have they been married?”

“Seventeen years, I think.”

“If she has made it that long without having children, why do it now?” Draco asked.

“I would guess that before, she didn’t want to ruin her girlish figure,” Scorpius said snidely.

Draco sneered. “She didn’t have a girlish figure even when she was a girl!”

“I’m afraid that’s the only explanation I have, so you’ll have to go on wondering right along with me,” Scorpius said. “But one thing I do know is that the child hasn’t even been born yet, and it is already the most spoiled baby on the planet.”

Draco sighed. “We can only hope that he’ll be as unlike his father as Julius was unlike you.”

Scorpius smiled at the implied compliment. “Thank you, Father.”

Draco was saved from an awkward moment by the house-elf Addie, who entered the room bearing a tray twice as big as she was, loaded with a teapot and cups, finger sandwiches, biscuits, scones, clotted cream, marmalade, and a whole chocolate layer cake.

“Oh, what a glorious feast!” Scorpius said joyfully as he piled his plate with food. Draco watched with amusement, then took a much smaller selection for himself.

After eating happily for a few minutes, Scorpius asked wistfully, “I don’t suppose there would be room at Notting Park for Hilda me, would there?”

“I’m afraid not,” Draco said. “Old Mrs. Scofield died over the weekend, but there was already someone here to look at her suite today. I’m afraid you’re too late. You should have come to visit earlier!”

“Alas!” Scorpius wailed sardonically. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Keep going on as you have been, I imagine,” Draco said with a slight smile at Scorpius’s histrionics. “Justine is bound to calm down a bit once she gets used to being pregnant. Besides, you would never be able to convince Hilda to move in here.”

“You’re right,” Scorpius responded with a dramatic sigh. Between bites of his fifth piece of cake, he asked, “So what’s the new woman like? Silly old biddy like the rest?”

“Perhaps,” Draco answered thoughtfully. “Maybe not exactly like the rest.”

“Oh?” Scorpius prompted.

“I don’t know,” Draco said reluctantly. “I can’t for the life of me figure out why she might want to live here. She has a home of her own and plenty of family to take care of her, and she didn’t seem to be in it for the Hogwarts nostalgia. Maybe she’ll turn out to be interesting after all.”

Scorpius eyed his father thoughtfully. “And who, pray tell, is this fascinating creature?” he asked.

Draco smirked. “The mother of one of your favorite people in the world,” he said as evenly as he could.

“You know very well that Lyra is my favorite person in the world,” Scorpius scolded, “and it certainly cannot be her mother, as interesting as you might find her, so you must be kidding me.” Draco only raised an eyebrow in response. “Now who might it be?” he continued thoughtfully. Scorpius threw out several names, and Draco became more and more amused, just as his son became more and more frustrated. “Fine,” Scorpius spat out finally. “Whose mother is she?”

“Your old school chum Albus Potter’s,” Draco said with a slightly wider smirk.

“That prissy little tosser!” Scorpius exclaimed. “What a teachers’ pet he was! Always trying to get me into trouble,” he grumbled.

“You managed to get yourself into trouble often enough without him, if I recall correctly,” Draco said with a smile.

“That’s true,” Scorpius allowed. “But I would have gotten away with loads more if it weren’t for him. He always seemed to be lurking around the corner, spying on me.” He paused for yet another sandwich, then asked, “So the Potter widow has caught your attention, eh?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Draco responded stiffly. Scorpius was closer to the mark than he would like to admit—he had been thinking about Ginny all afternoon—but he wasn’t about to encourage his son’s speculation.

“Maybe not now,” Scorpius said with a smile, “but I’d wager you’ll be saying something entirely different before long!”

Draco just scowled.

Scorpius looked at his watch and sighed. “Ah well. It has been a pleasant afternoon, but I suppose I must be heading back to Azkaban, I mean Malfoy Manor.” He gestured at the small quantity of food left on the tea tray. “Do you think the house-elves would object too terribly much if I took this with me?”

***

Ginny carefully placed the last biscuit on the baking sheet, then slipped it into the oven. No Potter family gathering was complete without her special ginger biscuits, and today’s party at the Burrow was especially important, because it was to be a celebration of Ellen and Dietrich’s engagement.

Ginny was pleased that the kitchenette in her new suite had a large oven, so she would be able to continue baking once she moved to Notting Park. She knew it was about time she taught the ginger biscuit recipe to one of the younger members of the family, though she still had not made her mind up about who should be given the honor. Ellen was the obvious choice, of course, but for some reason, she couldn’t bake to save her life. Ginny didn’t understand it. Ellen was an accomplished potions maker and the two arts weren’t so different, but she didn’t seem to think so. Perhaps Albus’s daughter Belinda would be the best choice. She was always very busy with running her own wizarding law firm, but she understood the importance of family traditions.

Ginny’s thoughts were cut off by a popping sound. She turned around to see that Albus had Apparated into the kitchen.

“Al!” Ginny said, hugging him. She bustled away, pulling a pile of plates out of a cabinet. “What a surprise! I wasn’t expecting you until later. Since you’re here, though, would you mind putting the tables out in the garden? I haven’t had a chance yet and it’s getting late. Though you might want to cast a Freezing Charm on the ground first. It’s been a little muddy.”

“Actually, Mum, I came early because I wanted to talk to you.” Albus’s serious tone stopped Ginny, her hands in the utensil drawer. He stood very stiffly, his hands clenched, and she knew that he was worried about something.

“The tables can wait,” Ginny said gently. “I’m sure Mark will be willing to put them out when he gets here. Why don’t I make some tea? You go ahead and sit down, and I’ll be right there.”

Albus sat in the place that had been his when he was a child, in the middle of the table, facing the oven. Ginny conjured boiling water, then set the teapot and two cups on the table, sitting down across from her son. “Now,” she asked, “what’s the matter?”

“Ellen told me you’re considering moving out of the Burrow and into a retirement home,” Albus said questioningly.

“I’m not considering it,” Ginny began, and she saw Albus’s shoulders sag in relief. She hurried to finish her thought. “I mean that I have quite made up my mind to do it.”

Albus looked alarmed. “You can’t be serious!”

“I am,” Ginny said gravely. “The paperwork is all signed. I’m moving in on Tuesday.”

“Why would you want to go and do something like that, Mum?”

Ginny smiled, and took Albus’s hand. “For the same reason that I encouraged you, James, and Lily to live on your own with your spouses when you married. And I was right, wasn’t I?”

Albus nodded reluctantly. “Yes, you were,” he said. “But Ellen and Dietrich could live somewhere else. There’s no need for them to stay here with you.”

“But then I would be here alone, and as Ellen pointed out, that would be a very bad idea at my age. At Notting Hill, there will always be someone around, and even a Healer on call, should I need one. It’s really the best solution.”

“But what will people think of our family?” Albus asked indignantly. “They’ll think we kicked you out of your own home, that none of us were willing to take care of you!”

“Oh, Al,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “You’ve always worried too much about what people think about you, or about the family.”

“But they’re always thinking the worst of us.”

“Yes, they are. That’s part of what comes from having a famous name. People will always talk. But what they say can only hurt you if you let them.”

Albus sighed. “I know, and you’ve been telling me the same thing for years and years, but I can’t help it.”

Ginny squeezed his hand and said, “I know.”

“Won’t you at least come live with me and Melanie?” Albus asked after a moment.

Ginny shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t want to intrude on you, especially when you’re so close to retiring. And I am actually looking forward to living at Notting Park. It will be lovely to have house-elves to take care of everything, and I might even make some new friends—there are some people there that I knew from Hogwarts that I would particularly like to reconnect with.” Ginny had been thinking of Susan Bones and Jimmy Peakes, but as she spoke, her mind flitted involuntarily to Draco Malfoy—not for the first time since her visit to Notting Park—and she blushed slightly. She was relieved that Albus didn’t seem to notice.

“I guess nothing I say will convince you, then?” Albus asked dejectedly.

“I’m afraid not,” Ginny answered. “You know perfectly well that it’s almost impossible to dissuade a Weasley once she has set her heart on an adventure!”

Albus smiled, then said, “But you’re too old to be having adventures!”

“Bollocks!” Ginny said, laughing whole-heartedly. “I may be too old to go out chasing dragons, but this will be a sedate sort of adventure, and I hope I am never too old for that!”