The Dreamer's Curse

A Certain Number of Years Later

Chrysocolla Cottage, with its six rooms and its library and warm sitting room, was an altogether peaceful little place somewhere in Norfolk. Its inhabitants took pleasure in the simple things: on weekends, when the adults need not go to work and the children need not spend their days in advance school, Draco could often be found napping in the back garden; his son Scorpius most likely nearby and always with an ice cold glass of water at hand (and if it should grow warm, the young lad willed a frost over the glass to set it cold again); and the four year old twins Castor and Chara were always chasing after butterflies in the vast orchard Draco had cultivated nearly twelve years before. And their mother?

Jane Kingsleigh (for although she was now technically Mrs Draco Malfoy, all the world knew her still as Jane Kingsleigh) spent her weekends with a book in hand, an eye on her family, and a smile on her face.

Today, however, was the first of September, and, as it so happened, was the beginning of Scorpius Malfoy’s first year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

Naturally, the normally peaceful home was in a frenzy.

“Scorpius,” Jane chuckled in good humour, “you can’t bring Haeg to school. He’s a pet ferret, not an owl or a toad. Have you not read your letter?”

“But Mum,” the boy pleaded, his blue Kingsleigh eyes round under the sunlight, his sharp Malfoy features softened endearingly, “who’s going to take care of him when I’m gone? And let him out for walks? Can’t you please ask Headmaster McGonagall to reconsider?”

“No, I shall not. Besides, do you really think we’ll let the poor thing starve to death?” She winked, “no, and that’s final. Now get your trunk and leave Haeg at home, or you shan’t be going to Hogwarts at all.”

Scorpius groaned and stomped up the stairs.

“And do so cheerfully, young man!” his mother threatened from the kitchen below.

Still, Scorpius dragged his feet audibly across the wooden floor. Jane sighed and shook her head. Scorpius was proving more stubborn by the day.

Ring, ring!

The doorbell rang thrice before Jane pulled open the door to answer it. The gate was wide open, and there on the stone steps leading up to the cottage stood a handsome young man, his curly black hair tucked behind his ears, and his waistcoat snug against his fit middle. 

The tall man smirked down at Jane—a smirk reminiscent of the late Sirius Black. 

“Hullo, Aunt Jane,” he said brightly. “How’s the shop this week?”

“Danny Kingsleigh! I forget how tall you’ve grown,” Jane exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. “Oh, you know, the weeks leading up to September first are always busy—everyone wants a new wand.”

“Good business is never something to complain about, my dear aunt. Right then, I’ve got the car out front. Are we all set to go?”

“We’re running a tad bit late today. Scorpius nearly brought Haeg along for the trip.”