100 Rose and Scorpius Drabbles
Author's Note: So sorry about the lack of updates lately! I've been working on planning and plotting for a new Dramione story centered on the lives of the kids if they were Muggles. Interesting enough, I think, I just don't want to rush into it and make the D/Hr storyline unbelievable. Anyway, on with the chapter! Enjoy!
Chapter XI: Muggles
On her last day of school in her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Rose Weasley received a letter from her mother. The letter was addressed to both Rose and Hugo, but Rose ignored this and tore the letter open anyway, making a note to tell her little brother about whatever she was going to read. She skimmed over the thin, neat handwriting.
Rosie & Hugo,
Your dad and I have just recently heard some exciting news but wanted to wait until your last day of school to inform you – I suspect it will make your last day just that much more exciting. Your cousin Victoire and Teddy are going to be married this summer! The date they have set is the fifteenth of July, and both of you will be in the wedding! We'll discuss all the details once you two, Al, Lily, and Louis get back from school. Enjoy your last day!
Your loving mother.
Rose narrowed her eyes at the small piece of parchment and despite the tiny grin forming in the corner of her mouth, cynically muttered, "Oh, how lovely."
Later on in the day she joined the rest of her cousins in a fun game of toss the Quaffle. When she told Hugo about the wedding, his reaction was identical to hers. Rose smirked. They both knew the first part of the summer would be ruined by constant planning for the wedding. Upon the train ride home, Rose wondered if she'd have to wear a dress. She wrinkled her nose at the thought.
The insane chatter of cake, music, decorations, location, dresses, layouts, flowers, food, and much, much else resumed almost immediately after the children had had time to "settle back in", and Rose's fear of a dress was confirmed. She was to be one of the five bridesmaids, but there was no need to worry because her dress would be custom fitted and identical to Lily's, Molly's, Lucy's, and Roxanne's.
Rose frowned at her aunt Fleur, her brow creased in confusion. Was the concept of making her look even more like her cousins supposed to coax her into wearing the dress? Victoire seemed to take notice of her expression and, being the considerate quick-thinker she was, hastily commented, "Don't worry about it, Rosie. We're not doing any of the actual fitting for a couple of weeks. If you don't want to do it, you've at least got a while to think about it." She smiled reassuringly. "Why don't you think about inviting some of your friends from school? One or two to keep you company. Whoever you want." She stroked Rose's long, auburn hair.
Rose swallowed and forced a grin, thanking her cousin quietly.
However, as she sat alone in her room, quill poised in hand hovering over a piece of parchment, she could not think of anyone to write an invitation to. A pained look spread across her face as she contemplated. Surely there was someone she could invite. She had lots of friends.
Rose rolled her eyes. This was bullocks. Utter bullocks. She put her quill down and crossed her arms, a scowl forming. Quickly, however, she picked up the quill once more. She had it! She would invite Lysander! Her face fell, however, when she remembered that he was already going to be invited. His mother was Luna Lovegood, for Merlin's sake, and Luna was like family.
"Who, then?" she asked herself aloud. Her eyes got dark with realization. She didn't have real friends that weren't her cousins. Except for maybe one person. And that person wasn't really friend material. He wasn't really wedding material either. Did he even know how to dance? Rose snorted. Monsters don't dance. She shook her head. He would ruin the wedding.
But then again…he was surprisingly cooperative sometimes. Two voices began to bicker inside Rose's head.
He would surely sabotage something.
You'll sabotage yourself if you're the only one at the wedding who didn't invite someone.
I'll just hang out with Al and his mates.
Going to dance with Al and all his mates too, then?
I don't have to dance.
So you'll sit and watch everyone else. Sounds like fun.
Likehe'll be any better company.
Rose groaned out loud and stood up from her desk. She opened the door and called down the hall of the upstairs of the Burrow, "Hugo! Hugo, come here!"
Hugo poked his head out of the room down the hall, "Whaddya want, Rosie?"
"Go tell Aunt Gin to tell Gran if she'd let me invite Scorpius Malfoy to the wedding."
Hugo's eyes widened. "Malfoy? Did you just say Malfoy?"
Rose sneered. "No, I said Piccadilly."
Her brother made a confused look but shrugged and made his way downstairs, only to come back with a frown and the answer, "No." Rose pouted and sulked down the stairs, knowing she would have to do the convincing herself. After two hours of following her grandmother around the house and agreeing to helping her with the chores for the next month, Rose was allowed to invite Scorpius Malfoy to the Weasley-Lupin wedding. She honestly hoped to God that Malfoy would accept and that he wouldn't be his usual smarmy cockroach-like self. And then she wrote the invitation.
You have cordially been invited to the Weasley-Lupin wedding on July 15.I wanted to know if you would like to come to my cousin Victoire's wedding as my personal guest. I just needed someone to dance with, you know.Would you please come to my cousin's wedding with me? All of us get to invite one friend from school, and guess what? You're it!
She scribbled out each sentence, unsatisfied with the wording, and tried a final time.
I'm inviting you to my cousin's wedding on the fifteenth of next month. If you decide to come (and you better not say you'll come and then stand me up, you ugly troll), there better not be any funny business.
Satisfied with the final outcome of the letter, Rose folded it and sent it off. Malfoy did not keep her waiting – his reply came within the next twenty-four hours. Rose handled it gingerly, as if it were a bomb that was about to explode in her hands (that would be like Malfoy, it would, to send her something explosive) and read his reply slowly.
Did you spill your ink? Be careful next time – that spot is horrendous.
I talked to my parents, and while Father says there is no way you should need me to be a guest at the wedding because there are way too many Weasleys (I have to agree with him, you know), Mother says I can go.
I'm coming over next weekend.
Rose frowned. Did he just invite himself over? Through an owl? But wait, next weekend was hers and Hugo's visit to their grandparents' on the Granger side! She was absolutely not taking Malfoy to her grandparents'! She frantically wrote him a reply telling him he could not come over. She received an owl several hours later with only three words: I don't care.
The nerve of that boy!
Now, Rose was no stranger to the lifestyle and culture of a Muggle, for she was half Muggle, half witch in a certain sense because her mother was indeed a Muggleborn. Several times throughout the year she and Hugo got to visit their grandparents on the Granger side, who were one hundred percent Muggle. Rose was used to all the Muggle technology, objects, music, pop culture, terminology, and everything else there was to know about living what was considered a "normal" life for a Muggle. Rose and Hugo blended in well with the Muggle society whenever they spent time with their grandparents (as did the Potter children when they visited). All in all, Muggles actually kind of seemed the same as wizards to Rose.
Scorpius Malfoy, on the other hand? Loudly he announced he had never met a Muggle in person and that he was very thrilled to meet Rose's grandparents but he did not understand why they couldn't just floo to Mr. and Mrs. Granger's house instead of using a portkey.
"Just because, Malfoy, now shut up."
He shut up, alright, when he met Rose's grandparents and discovered that their house was a two bedroom house in London and Mrs. Granger commented in a sweet yet critical voice, "Scorpius is a very interesting name."
"I like your grandfather," he later whispered to Rose as they sat in the dining room and ate pizza, which he had stared at for a very long time before finally taking a bite ("This is actually pretty good, Weasley."). "But your grandmum isn't as nice as I imagined."
Rose narrowed her eyes, "You're only saying that because she thought your name is funny." She sipped on her soda as she watched him finish up his fifth slice of pizza. "Which it is," she added.
Scorpius glared at her.
Rose asked to be excused from the table and led Scorpius down the hall into the den, where he froze in the doorway and stared. "What is it?"
"That's what I was about to ask," he said blankly, and pointed.
Rose followed his finger to the corner, where a computer was sitting on a cluttered desk. "Oh. That's a computer. Would you like to use the Internet?"
"The Internet. Here, I'll show you." She sat down in the desk chair and motioned for him to come stand next to her. He did so, but ever so cautiously, as if the computer were some sort of torture device.
Rose logged on to the computer and opened the browser. "Where do you want to go?"
Scorpius sneered, "I don't want to go anywhere. I want you to show me what the Intranet is."
"Internet. And I meant, what do you want to look at. Just give me something random."
"Oh. Um. Me!"
She sighed but typed 'Scorpius Malfoy' into a search criteria on a search engine. A small amount of results popped up, and when Rose clicked onto the image results, there was a picture of a cross dresser with a pink-feathered scarf.
Scorpius's jaw dropped as he stared at the picture. "That is not me."
Rose snickered. "Are you sure, Malfoy?"
Rose giggled. "It says here that he…er, she is an exotic dancer at a club in Manchester." She stared up at Scorpius, eyebrow raised.
He only blinked and mumbled something that sounded like, "Nutter Muggles." Rose could only laugh. She had corrupted Malfoy's innocent mind with Muggle technology. Oh, if only Albus had been there to see the look on his pale, pointy face. Priceless.