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The last thing Harry wanted was to be in Diagon Alley the day before Christmas. But he saw Ginny’s point – the children were underfoot at the Burrow, and since, as Ginny had said, ‘my mother would never let anyone with a penis as much as touch housework’, the best way he could help with Christmas preparations was taking them out.
He looked a little helplessly over the brood.
Because, of course, ‘taking the children’ in the context of the Burrow didn’t just mean his children. He had ten in total, owing to Fleur putting her foot down and saying that if the boys were going out, so were the girls.
How was one supposed to amuse ten teenagers and almost-teenagers on a crowded shopping street the day before Christmas, when buying them anything was impossible, because the chance of it being under the tree a day later was, in such a large family, astronomical.
Oh well. At least Ron was with him, and he hadn’t been thrown to the wolves alone.
Normally they would go to George’s shop first as a matter of course, but it was the most crowded place of all, and they quite simply wouldn’t fit, so they stood a little helplessly in the middle of the street. At least the rain had let up, though it was still miserable outside and nowhere near white Christmas.
He was just thinking that a hot chocolate might be a good start when he heard Albus next to him call loudly: “Hey, Scorp!”
He turned, hoping for a solution to his problem, and froze.
There was, indeed, Scorpius Malfoy – and that in itself wouldn’t be ideal when Ron was with him.
There was also Scorpius’ father.
Harry came across Draco quite often at work, and they usually managed distant politeness just fine, but Ron was another matter in this, and he had no idea about the children under his care.
And, to make matters worse, there was Draco’s mother, too.
Harry felt like he was suddenly thrown back to the beginning of sixth year, to the encounter at Madame Malkin’s. He hadn’t seen Narcissa since the trials after the war.
He had been quite content that way.
Oblivious to his musing, Albus headed across the street to greet his friend and the boy’s family. “Hey, Mr. Draco, Mrs. Malfoy,” he said cheerfully. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Narcissa smiled at him. “We are doing some last-minute shopping,” she explained. “What about you?”
“Oh, my mum just wanted us out of the house,” Albus said cheerfully and Harry grimaced.
At this point, Rose crossed the road too, and while her greeting to the eder Malfoys was more formal, she seemed equally friendly with Scorpius as Albus was.
That finally made Ron turn and look at them, too.
“What are they doing here?” He hissed to Harry.
“Last-minute shopping, apparently,” Harry muttered back.
“Dad? Who is it?” Hugo asked, turning his curious eyes to Ron.
“Your sister’s friend with his family,” Harry replied before Ron could give an answer Hermione would murder him for later.
“Which friend?” Hugo insisted.
“Scorpius Malfoy,” Ron said in a sort of ominous tone.
“He is pretty,” Lily said decisively, and Harry did all he could to stop himself from groaning.
His efforts were redoubled when he noticed the entire group from the other side was headed in their direction. He tried not to panic.
There was a sequence of polite nods, and then Draco said – and clearly it cost him some effort – “Scorpius expressed the wish to join your group. I came to ask if it was all right."
Harry was immeasurably relieved Draco didn’t mean to join them personally, and so he said: “Sure, no problem.” Then his mind caught up with him, and he added: “We don’t really know what we’re doing, though. I mean,” he fought not to flush, “we don’t have any particular plans.”
Draco seemed to bite hard on a sarcastic commentary no doubt tied to Harry’s first clumsy phrasing, but he merely said “I don't think Scorpius cares that much”, and that was it.
Draco and Narcissa left, and Scorpius tagged along as they went for some hot chocolate and then, predictably, to Quality Quidditch Supplies – in spite of the crowds – and then he gave them a tip for some small bookshop which was less crowded than everything else, but still had an interesting selection.
It was around that point that Dominique and James, who was never far from her when the children were all together, came up to Harry and Ron. Dominique gave them a critical look and said: "Is something wrong? You both seem really tense."
“Nothing,” Harry said quickly, and Dominique gave him an unimpressed look. Harry really didn’t think fifteen year olds should be capable of such looks.
“We’re just...not used to Scorpius,” Harry clarified.
Dominique blinked. “What? You’ve never had any problem with any of our friends.”
“Yeah, but they weren’t Malfoys,” Ron muttered.
Dominique gave him an incredulous look, a look that made Harry feel instantly guilty. “Are you serious?” She asked.
James looked equally flabberghasted. “The war is over, you know,” he said. “It’s been over for twenty years.”
It has, hasn’t it?
Harry looked at the children that came with him to the bookshop. Not a single one of them, he realized, had a problem with Scorpius. And it wasn’t because they didn’t know. Harry remembered what Dumbledore did to him too well to ever believe that ignorance was a bliss, and he had managed to impress that upon all the other parents in the family, so the children knew as much about the history of the war as was age-apropriate. They all knew who the Malfoys were. Harry also knew they didn’t wave away the crimes as unimportant. He had made sure of that, too.
No, they just...knew that the war was over.
That it has been over for twenty years.
Strange, you'd think with all the celebrations he has attended in spring, it'd have sunk in, not to mention those in the years before that.
He had been meeting Draco at the ministry for most of these years. They worked together often. Anyone else, Harry realized, he would have considered a friend by now and would have probably shared a number of lunches with them. But with Draco, he had stayed at the level of distant nods.
Harry looked around the shop once more, this time focusing on the books, and headed to the Potions section. He had another present to pick up.