Harry Potter: 19 Years Later

Chapter 8: A Weasley Christmas (Part 2)

"Let me just," Scorpius's mother licked her fingertips and smoothed down the front of her son's blonde hair. "There. It's perfect."

Scorpius rolled his eyes as his mother kept patting down his hair, which he'd already combed to near perfection. (At least to his standards) But no, his mother had another opinion of perfect. And that meant absolutely zero frizz.

The Malfoy's were about to leave for the Weasley's Christmas dinner, each of them absolutely terrified. Scorpius was starting to regret him even agreeing to go there. Of course his family would probably make a noticeable entrance, since the Malfoy's weren't exactly ones to blend in. They're one of the only Pureblood families, who had history with the Death Eaters, that aren't snobs and tolerate non-Purebloods. Tonight was the night to prove to Rose and Albus's family that Scorpius's family are decent people.

Nervously, Scorpius ran his hand over his perfectly groomed hair and smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on his clothes. He gulped when his parents stood next to him, ready to apparate.

"It'll be alright, Scor." Scorpius's father whispered, then the three of them turned and apparated. Scorpius squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the pressure around him. Then, his feet landed so hard on grass, that he lost his balance and collapsed on the ground.

Great, my clothes are probably stained, he thought. Scorpius couldn't believe he was obsessing about his clothes.

Scorpius glanced around. His parents weren't in sight. They must've apparated somewhere different than me, he guessed. Sometimes magically protected homes will send you all over the place, if not concentrating enough, when you apparate onto the property. His parents could be miles away. And now, Scorpius was alone, and he might have to walk into the Weasley home by himself.

Scorpius gulped, and he could already feel his heart thumping fast in his chest.

He had landed in some tall weeds, thankfully not mud. Carefully avoiding muddy puddles, he stepped carefully out of the weed patch, and started walking down a narrow dirt trail. He could see the towering Weasley home in the distance. The more steps he took, the more his heart pounded.

Finally, Scorpius pushed some tree limbs out of the way, and, while tripping in the process over a root, he was in an open clearing. The Burrow was right there. He could see people standing outside, but he couldn't make them out. When his eyes spotted a red head walking out the front door, his heart seemed to want to leap out of him.

Then he heard a female voice call his name, and every person standing in the yard had their eyes on him.

* * *

Albus had to follow that amazing smell coming from the kitchen. Dinner would be served any moment, and he was determined to beat James to the kitchen before he grabbed all the deviled eggs. Every year, James had always beat Albus at getting to the deviled eggs. And when Albus meant the deviled eggs, he meant ALL the deviled eggs. His brother, like Albus, loved Grandma Weasley's delicious deviled eggs, which she made a platter full of them just for the brothers. No matter how many she made, James always got all of them before Albus could. This year, Albus was going to get his share of the eggs.

Albus sprinted down the stairs, two at a time, also ignoring his mother yelling at him to slow down, towards the kitchen. He could hear footsteps behind him, and he knew James was going for exactly what Albus wanted. This was war.

The eggs were set on the counter, looking even more delicious than ever. Albus shoved through all his relatives in the living room and made it to the kitchen. When he arrived, fixing to pass out from running so fast, the platter was gone. His brother beat him yet again. How did that even happen when James was behind him?