“And that concludes today’s lecture, unless you have questions?”

Longbottom abruptly raised his hand like it’s the end of him.

“Yes, Mr. Longbottom?”

“Well, um…. can I date your daughter?” The class sniggered.

From his right, Scorpius could see the color of Rose Weaseley’s face slowly turn to that of a tomato’s. “Didn’t know you’re into oafs,” he mumbled, earning him a glare.

“Well, can I?” Inquired Longbottom as the professor was still too shocked to reply.

Professor Weasely cleared her throat. “I’m afraid that’s a question you must ask my daughter directly, as she is old enough to answer for her self.”

“Heard that Rose? Got your mother’s blessing. So – ” The class was not able to hear the rest of his words for no other sound came from his mouth, despite the movement.

The room fell silent and only Rose Weasely’s heavy footsteps could be heard, leaving everyone while giving her wand a death grip.

“Sorry Mr. Longbottom, you brought this upon yourself. Class dismissed.”

Scorpius waited until everyone has left the room before taking a cautious yet determined step towards the Muggle Studies professor. It’s now or never, he told himself.

“What is it, Mr. Malfoy?” She asked with her back to him, giving him a startle. The woman must have another eye hidden within that tight brown bun of hers.

“You can come forward you know, I don’t bite.” This time she faced him, smiling.

The smile was all it took for Scorpius to realize how beautiful she was. His mother was quite a beauty too, in a classy sort of way, but this one in front of him is just different. Everything about her speaks of warmth. And passion. It made him wonder why his father did not end up marrying her instead. The man must have been blind during his Hogwarts days.

“Found something in the library,” he said as he approached her, holding the piece of Prophet. “Think it belongs to you.” He knows the real owner of course, but Slytherins are nothing if not crafty.

“Oh.” It was all she said as he handed the paper, but her eyes spoke volumes as they landed on the front page. For a moment he thought she would cry, but she managed to compose herself in a couple of seconds. “It must be Rosie’s. I’m not a fan of the Prophet, if you must know. But thanks for returning it. Will give this to her myself.”

“I was there… When it happened.” He slowly confessed before she got the chance to dismiss him. If she was shocked, she hid it well.

“It was my birthday, and my father gave me a Firebolt Maxima. It’s the best broom in town you know,”

“Yes, my son Hugo talks about it all the time,” she said, walking towards the room’s open window. “With his father…” she softly continued.

It was getting dark outside, but the shade was nothing compared to the gloom in the professor’s voice. It was enough to change his mind.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I must have been rude to speak about the, um, accident. I better be going.”

“Not at all, Scorpius,” he was surprised to hear her address him with his first name. “I’d want to hear it,” she regarded him with a faint smile, and he continued.

“We went out so I can have a go at my Maxima,” he placed his hands in his pockets and busied his eyes with the floor, suddenly shy. “My father brought his Nimbus 2001 too, it was his favourite.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She said, a hint of humour in her voice. “I’ll never forget the day he first showed us that broom… he just got in the Slytherin quidditch team as their new Seeker… and the rest, was history… Take a seat Mr. Malfoy.”

“Scorpius is fine,” he said before taking the nearest seat from the professor’s table.

“It’s a beautiful name. I like it.”

She conjured a chair in front of him and a small round table with her wand. “Pumpkin Juice?” She offered, which he accepted with a nod. With another flick of her wand, two clear goblets and a pitcher of cold pumpkin juice appeared before him. He just watched as she lifted the pitcher and filled both goblets.

“Thanks,” he said.

“This is so you can relax,” she smiled. “So, you were telling me about your birthday, correct?”

He took a sip from his goblet before answering. “Yes… well my father and I went out to test my new Maxima. We played a seeker game with the free snitch that came with the broom. I was so content to just ride my Maxima that I didn’t bother searching for the snitch,”

“And Draco found it.” She finished for him. Hearing his father’s name from the woman’s lips gave him chills, for some unfathomable reason.

“Yes, he did…” was his slow reply as his mind tried to rewind what happened. “It would require a six feet dive from where we were, and he went for it. My eyes were also on the snitch that I did not see the flying car accelerating towards him from who knows where.”

He saw her grip tighten at the stem of the goblet. Her eyes found comfort outside the open window again. It was quiet, and he waited for a word from her.

“Go on…”

“When my father realized that something was coming after him, he turned and swerved upwards. It was too late though. The car was about to crash on him. He took out his wand and muttered a spell to protect him. The car exploded and the impact had thrown me to the ground.” He said it in one breath and then paused to take a long sip of pumpkin juice.

“When I was strong enough to stand, I looked for my father. I found him a few meters ahead of me. His legs were bleeding madly…”

Her eyes never left the window.

“We only found out that it was your husband when we read the Prophet…”

There was a long silence before she took a deep breath and spoke. “I kept telling him to quit fixing that car, he never listened.”

He had no idea what to say next so he voiced the first thought that crossed his mind. “I know it’s late, but I’m sorry, for what happened.”

She looked at him and nodded. “It’s all in the past, Scorpius. But thank you, for telling me.”

“Do you hate my father?”

She laughed, but it did not reach her eyes.

“I never hated your father, Scorpius. Not in Hogwarts, not even now… It was my husband’s fault to begin with.”

It was a response that Scorpius did not expect. He could not help but admire and respect the woman in front of him. Definitely the perfect one for Father, he thought.

“Your father, Draco, how was he?” She asked, breaking his reverie.

He tried to think of a proper way to state his father’s condition, but only these words came off his mouth:

“He never walked again.”


A Harry Potter fan fiction for Daily Prompt: Imitation/Flattery, in honor of the author of first book series that I was able to finish – Ms. JK Rowling. I never stopped reading since then.

This unfinished story was originally posted in under the title ‘Operation Daddy’s Angel.’ Maybe I’ll keep writing on it, maybe I won’t. And yes, I ship Dramione. Cheers!


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