The Marriage Decree

Chapter 117: Why Would You Think I Would Tell You?

Sophie sits on the couch, staring intently at the fireplace, willing flames to erupt with the arrival of Hermione. She hasn't seen her mother since her birthday, but in her letters, Gwen had promised to bring American sweets back for her. She'd also asked for some American wizarding books for Christmas after Draco had explained the difference in wizarding school around the world.

"Sophie, please stop staring like that, you could set the house on fire with a glare like that." Her dad looks at her over the top of his newspaper, not entirely joking and jumping out of his chair when the fireplace lights up, five minutes after eleven o'clock, when Hermione said she would arrive.

"You're always late," she states with a huff, arms crossed. "Where's Hermione?" She asks, arms dropping to her side disappointedly when Draco steps into the living room.

"She's at The Leaky Cauldron with Scorpius. He's not very happy today, being a bit fussy and not wanting to leave his mum." Draco explains, looking at David, still staring in shocked surprise at the fire. "Are you alright?" He asks.

"Yep, I'm fine," he folds the paper up, stuffing it under his arm as he kisses his daughter on her head. "Have fun, don't eat too many of those sweets." He tells her. "And not too late, she has school tomorrow." He adds for Draco.

"Dad!" Sophie complains. "It's the last week before Christmas; it's not like we do any work. It's just arts and crafts, and watching videos." She looks up at him; her brown eyes are wide and hopeful.

"Seven o'clock, at the latest," David tells them, heading out the living room door.

Draco nods in agreement, already regretting his decision to join Hermione on her day out, being used to enjoying at least two naps a day. It wasn't fair, though, to expect Hermione to spend all day out, with a fussy Scorpius, without his company. "Are you ready to go?" He asks, holding his hand out.

"Yeah," she jumps up, grabbing his hand. "Bye, dad." She quickly remembers to call, before Draco throws down the Floo powder and calls for The Leaky Cauldron.

"Your mother isn't arriving until half-past, would you like a drink while we wait?" He asks Sophie, leading her towards the bar.

"Yes, please, can I have pumpkin juice?" She asks.

"Of course," Draco helps her up onto the high barstool.

She leans across the bar, waving at Tom, the landlord. The man happily walks over, grinning his toothless grin as he throws a drying rag over his shoulder.

"Hi, Tom," Sophie smiles.

"Hello, Miss Sophie, what can I get for you today?" he asks.

"I would like a pumpkin juice please."

"A fine choice," he collects a glass, filling it with the juice.

"I wish we had this at home," she sighs, after taking a gulp.

"They don't have pumpkin juice in the Muggle world?" Tom frowns, leaning on the bar.

"No," Sophie shakes her head. "We have apple, orange, blackcurrant, pineapple, and even tomato," she pulls a disgusted face. "But no pumpkin juice, and it's my absolute favourite juice. I like the spice flavour." She explains, taking another sip.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Tom pretends to look up and down the bar. "The spice is cinnamon, nutmeg and clove." He informs her.

"Maybe I can make my own at home," Sophie thinks. "Is there a recipe?" She asks.

Tom thinks to himself for a moment. "You know what, Miss Sophie, because you are one of the politest children to visit me in a long time, I'm going to gift you the recipe, for Christmas." He leaves them, heading into the back room.