On Your Doorstep for No Reason at All

Scorpius wasn't exactly sure of the thought process that led to him standing on the doorstep of one Athena Rookwood. Albus was probably out though, so at least there was that. It had been far too long, since the blond had last seen his dark-haired housemate. He and Athena had never been particularly close, unlike the man Athena lived with, but Scorpius and the witch had, for many years, held their own unique camaraderie.

It hadn't been a conventional friendship, though so few relationships for Scorpius were. Their connection had started, in true Slytherin fashion, through the ancient and delicate art of bartering. Both wand-carriers had been rather more proficient at dark magic than anyone their age had any right to be. The two discovered that while a fair amount of their knowledge overlapped, there was a significant amount that did not. In sharing this magic with each other, their own knowledge base grew exponentially. Athena did have a slightly larger knowledge base of dark incantations, but Scorpius was very talented with taking obscure spells and repurposing them. It worked well.

What Scorpius needed, was a distraction. Well, what he really needed was Mairen, but a distraction would work well enough. Normally distractions for Scorpius involved obscene amount of alcohol, and the closest pretty, willing woman he could find. Something told him his usual methods would be far less fulfilling than they had been previously.

Sometimes Scorpius hated Mairen. Completely and utterly hated her. He had been content before she had waltzed into his life with her fiery red hair and entrancing personality. Scorpius had been happy, and enjoying himself, and completely comfortable with his place in the world. Now he was none of those things, and couldn't even think about picking up pretty bar-girls without feeling guilty. If not for Mairen, his head wouldn't be such a Merlin-damned mess.

Knocking on the door, the ex-Slytherin pulled a long box out of the inside of his jacket. "I have sugar quills," Scorpius called out, well aware how much Athena enjoyed the treat. After all, what use was owning a candy store if one couldn't use the produce to bribe ones way into the hearts of others?

The door opened. It opened sort of … well, not in any particular way but damn, did it open. When its hinges gave and the handle moved and the chain was moved across the door, it was tugged into openness and the liminal space that was made was filled by a former Rookwood. The woman, lithe and willowy, stood with a child curled behind her legs, peeping out with curiosity shining in his dark eyes, had formerly been something to laud. She had been an impressive figure. It seemed strange that, without her finery and the principles of her class, she looked more human. In her element she was an alien, a creature not of earthly qualities. In sweatpants, a loose t-shirt specked in paint and with a child by her legs as her hair tickled down around her waist, finding gaps between the trousers and shirt to touch at her skin, she looked human. She looked like a woman. She looked like a mother. It suited her, too.

At first, confusion wrote itself across the ashen features of the woman. Then, a little more agreeability fell onto her face. She cleared her throat and leaned down to pick up her son. Archibald sat proudly on his mother’s hip and looked at the strange man, so used to dark haired people. This one was blonde and had pale pointed features. He was different. Not unpleasantly so, mind you, but still odd. Nevertheless, the boy knew well the call of sugar quills and he held out his fist, his mouth curling around the word “quill” which was awkwardly and clumsily executed but still garnered a kiss and a cuddle from his mother. He cried out happily to her, bringing his hand to her face as he gave her an enthusiastic, open-mouthed kiss to her cheek.

“Come in, Scorpius,” she enthused, parting from the door frame to admit him into the home she shared with Albus.

That day, the girls were out with Albus doing whatever it was they had elected to do that day. This had paved the way for quality time between mother and sons and, in truth, it had been something of a blankets and movies day. Augustus was still on the sofa, albeit peeping over the top, hugging his stuffed giraffe to his chest, and it was into the living room that Athena moved after smirking and taking the box of sugar quills from Scorpius. She looked at them as she walked, glancing absently over her shoulder with an appraising look in her eye.

“You spoil me. These are the good ones. You can come more often.”

She laughed a little, a sound that had only recently been something that Albus had brought out in her and she gestured with the box for him to take whatever seat he wanted before depositing herself down beside her eldest son who immediately turned to snuggle into her side. She draped her arm over him and set Archie down on her lap before opening up the box, letting out an “ooooh” for the benefit of the boys who mimicked her and leaned over to see what was inside. From the sugar paper, Athena took out a perfectly shaped quill. Then, after biting off the end she split the quill in half and gave the boys one bit each before taking her own and holding the box to Scorpius.

"Have one and come sit. You did buy them after all. Then you can tell me what you're here for. Albus isn't here, might I add?"

"The good ones," Scorpius echoed, smiling through his smirk, "only the best for a lady such as yourself."

There was something different about the witch, something that almost made the blonde pause as he made his way into her living room. Before, during Hogwarts when he had really known her, Athena'd had this air about her. She'd practically screamed untouchable, and that had only made her all the more desirable. Now though, things were different. Instead of seeming untouchable, one almost wanted to reach out and touch her. She seemed more, not gentle, but it was the closest word Scorpius's mind was capable of conjuring. That her very posture seemed more welcoming wasn't quite the right way to explain it either, but it was close.

The blonde watched silently as Athena shared her sweets with her young boys. It was a little strange, watching her act so lovingly with her sons. Scorpius wasn't used to this Athena. He was used to the Athena who knew enough dark spells to fill a decent-sized book, not the Athena who held children to her hip and broke sugar quills to share. Still, she wore motherhood well.

It shouldn't really be that strange, the man supposed. After all, if he could have kids, why couldn't Athena? Not that he didhave kids, but he wanted to. One day. With Mairen. Merlin, he was pathetic.

Plucking a quill from the proffered box, Scorpius folded himself into a sitting position with all the grace expected of a man having grown up within the Malfoy household. Sucking on the end of the quill, Scorpius crossed his ankles, knees jutting apart as a result. Leaning back from where he sat almost directly across from his old year mate, the wizard smiled slightly around the sugar.

"Who said I was coming to see Albus?" Scorpius asked airily, "can't a man get nostalgic and visit old school friends without being put through the ringer?" Innocent expression crumbling, the blond snorted softly. Athena would have seen straight through that, anyway.

"I've spent the last few months traveling through Europe, I doubt Albus mentioned. In that time I happened to learn quite a few..." Scorpius trailed off, hyper-aware of the young boys in the room and utterly unsure what the mother would rather not be spoken around them, "interesting spells. It felt wrong of me not to share them with you. I'm sure you remember how we were during our school days."

“No,” came the wry response as Archie crawled over the lap of the dark-haired Goyle woman. Between his teeth he had his quill and he tumbled across her legs, coming to land heavily down beside his brother with a soppy grin for his mother, dropping the quill in the process, as she sent him a terse look. Athena looked up again and fixed Scorpius with her careful, icy blue gaze. “A man does not just come to a house that holds within its creaking walls Albus Potter and chooses to speak to his lodger,” she arched a well-shaped eyebrow, fixing him with a pointed look, “now does he?”

“Al-bussssss,” Gus exclaimed from by her side, sitting up, hoping for praise which he immediately got in the form of being scooped into his mother’s arms and cuddled tightly into her. This only served to provoke jealousy from his brother so soon both boys were in her lap, snuggled into her chest, nibbling on their quills and succeeding in getting sugar all over them. She didn’t mind, though. Well, not completely. There wasn’t a lot of movement now. They were getting so big – tall more than anything, actually, which they’d gotten from Kendall. As she thoughtfully drew her fingers through their feathered hair she found she almost, almost missed their father.

Kendall never would have been any good for them, though. He was still, in many ways, a boy. She had grown up far before her time. They were now her stability and her anchor. She didn’t know what she’d do without them. But the trifles of men she could live without. She could always, always live without that. And by merlin, she did. All she wanted now, though, was a cottage by the see with a flower garden and an allotment in the back where her children could grow. It was a marked difference from the city but that was how she’d grown up. She wanted that for them before they were too grown.

“New spells, hm?” She considered, bouncing the boys idly. “Well, you’ll have to call again, Mr Malfoy. It’s a bit of a movie day today. In fact, we’d just finished one, hadn’t we?” She looked at Gus. “Why don’t you get two more DVDs, baby?” Gus slid off of her lap as he was told and put down his quill before wandering over to the stand to fetch the cases he wanted. He brought them back to his mother who deflected him across to Scorpius to whom Gus presented the DVDs, piping up that he needed Scorpius to pick one. And thus, the Malfoy was roped into movie day.