Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)

Homecoming (Scorpius Malfoy)

So ... I almost forgot to post again 

This hasn't been edited (let's be honest, I rarely have time to edit these) but I hope you like it anyway 

Everyone knew not to wake me up in the middle of the night. They knew that if woken up I was the grumpiest person on the face of the planet. The house-elves knew better, my parents knew better and yet, still it was the middle of the night when my mother woke me up, gently shaking me awake. Groaning into my hands, I did my best to roll over and bury my face in my pillow. But mum held firm, grasping me by my shoulders and making me sit up. Blinking away the last of the sleep from my eyes, I wondered just why she was doing this to me when more often than not she was the one to complain that I'd inherited Dad's grouchiness.

"What?" I complained, clearing my throat when the word came out as a croak. Checking the time, I tried my best not to groan again. It was almost 2 am – why in Merlin's name was my mum waking me up at 2 am in the morning.

She held my eyes for a moment, silent and seemingly uncertain of what to say. I continued to wait and in her continued silence, I reached out to turn on my bedside lamp as I grumbled, "Someone better be dying." Her eyes silenced me. Despairing and unable to bring the words to her lips, she squeezed my shoulders gently. "Oh, God."

"Don't bother getting dressed, just throw on a robe on top of your pyjamas," she ordered quickly, drawing my duvet back from me. "Your father's gone ahead."

"Of course, of course," I agreed, standing up quickly, all of my complaints shifting away. This was so much more important.

Mum rose to her feet, telling me that she was giving me five minutes to straighten myself out as she left the room. Tying my hair away from my face, I quickly washed away the remaining traces of sleep and put my slippers on. Wrapping my nightgown around me and tying it, I hurried down the stairs to join Mum by the fireplace. Right now, my state of dress was the least of my concerns, I needed to get to Malfoy Manor. Mum, who had been waiting impatiently by the fireplace, gestured for me to go first and that she would follow through. I emerged moments later in the greeting room of Malfoy Manor with no one there to greet me. Not that there should've been anyone there. Everyone was tending to more important things.

Following after me, mum joined me and she took one look at the empty room and then squeezed my shoulders as she said faintly, "Mrs Zabini should be here, she arrived with her husband and son. Blaise was the one to collect your father."

"What should I do?" I asked uncertainly, looking to Mum who was already walking out of the room.

"I –" for a moment she struggled, as if wondering why I really was here and why I couldn't have been left at home under the guidance of our house-elves. Perhaps it made sense given that the Zabinis had apparently brought Cesar along. But I supposed I could understand – the Malfoys had a son, one that I could perhaps keep occupied whilst his mother neared the end. Even if the boy was 3 years younger than me, someone I wouldn't associate with at school, I would do my best tonight. "Just stay out of the way."

"Will do," I murmured, following after Mum and climbing the stairs towards one of the upstairs drawing rooms.

Entering the room, Mum instantly went to Mrs Zabini's side and the two women sat together, talking in hushed murmurs. I hesitated in the doorway and I would have followed her and sat with the other women but my eyes instead lingered on the soon to be third year who hovered beside the door, wanting to remain unseen.

Scorpius, practically glued to the door, looked much paler than I'd ever seen him. His eyes, seemingly unseeing and unmoving, peered out into the hallway to where the three men were gathered. Standing beside him, I followed his eyes and found his father slumped on the floor, covering his face with his hands to hide his tears even as his shoulders shook. Crouched on either side of him were my father and Mr Zabini, speaking in hushed words to try and comfort their long time friend. At a long distance, stood Cesar, wringing his hands uncertainly together. I wanted to call out to the soon to be fifth year, to tell him to give the adults some space, but I needed to focus on Scorpius.