ass_fest_mod (ass_fest_mod) wrote in the_ass_fest,

Gift for travelincognito

Author: medraxellion
Recipient: travelincognito
Title: The Rules of Malfoy Manor
Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius and implied H/D
Summary: The ten rules the Malfoys have established since the birth of Scorpius.
Rating: R
Warning(s): Odd insults and a hint towards sex
Word Count: 2644
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: A wonderful thank you to my beta.

There were a number of things that were never to be spoken of in the Malfoy family home. After a brilliant spectacle of seven-year-old Scorpius Malfoy asking of his Grandfather’s fascination with peacocks and a long lecture on the divine beauty of peacocks on Lucius’ part, Draco Malfoy had decided it would be best to keep a list in writing. So later that night Draco was seen spelling a piece of parchment on the wall for all, especially Scorpius, to see. It seemed the only way the boy would remember.

Draco sighed in exasperation as he dipped his quill into the inkwell, blotting the spare drops of black before writing the first rule.

Rule Number One: No person is to speak of peacocks, unless Lucius brings it up first.

Once the words were set and the ink dry Draco ran a hand through his hair. At least he would have silence for a while longer. Assuming, of course, his father would keep quiet about his precious birds.


Like all peace, the silence that reigned in Malfoy Manor could only last so long. In this instance it had managed three days and two beautiful nights before screaming, both human and bird alike, echoed through the large white halls Draco had been relaxing in.

His pale eyelids squeezed shut, his mind trying to will the noise away. The one day he succeeded in completing his tasks early just happened to be the day his son caused hell in the Manor.

A foul smell permeated the normally floral air of their home, making Draco’s eyes flutter open as he gagged. A very unrefined move since Malfoys do not gag.

“Scorpius!” Where there was chaos, his son was soon to be; a point the boy was much too happy to prove as he slid into the room, bouncing on the balls of his feet. A blur of blues, greens, and other colours rushed through the room, entering one door with a squawk and exiting another, leaving only a foul stench behind.

Covering his mouth delicately with one hand, Draco stared down into the mirrored eyes of his son. “Dungbombs?”

“Er…” Draco would have to speak with Scorpius’ tutor later. Such a word was not meant to be in the Malfoy vocabulary. “Yes?”

With a deep sigh Draco listened to Scorpius describe how the peacock wanted to be fed and he had always wondered if dungbombs were edible. It only made sense to have one of the peacocks try it out!

After dismissing Scorpius to meet with his afternoon tutor, Draco rubbed his forehead in exasperation and flicked his wand, adding another rule to the list.

Rule Number Two: No feeding dungbombs to the peacocks.


Several days later an annoyed Draco Malfoy was forced to pen another rule.

Rule Number Three: Do not try to ride the peacocks.


Only a week later Draco noticed his hairline was receding. He only had to briefly wonder the cause of his hair loss when a scream echoed through the halls of the Manor.

Using his wand, Draco penned yet another rule.

Rule Number Four: Just leave the peacocks alone.


Somehow, despite Scorpius’ earlier tactics, the list kept only the four rules over the next few years. Of course Draco did have to punish Scorpius a few times for breaking rule number three before a sense of peace started to exist.

The fifth rule was established the first summer after Scorpius’ entrance at Hogwarts. It had been a topic Lucius had been muttering about all school year and, while Draco had learned to shut it out, he had also assumed his father was in his right mind enough to realize the topic was forbidden around Scorpius.

It was the first night Scorpius had spent home when Lucius started thinking aloud. He wondered which House would have brought more shame on the Malfoy name, Gryffindor or Hufflepuff? At least Gryffindors were good enough to be Slytherin’s rival. What was Hufflepuff known for? Nothing. When Lucius was in school Hufflepuff was often the overlooked House.

Scorpius seemed to be focused on keeping his emotions in control during this whole speech. After all, Malfoys do not cry. However, Scorpius did break the stereotype by muttering under his breath, “We still are.” Draco could have sworn he heard ‘and that is the way I like it’ before his son excused himself from his own welcome home feast.

It was with a heavy heart Draco wrote the next rule and as soon as the ink started to dry he made his way to speak with his son.

Rule Number Five: There shall be no speaking badly of Hufflepuff.


It seemed rules were established within spurts at Malfoy Manor. The sixth rule was made later in the month of the fifth rule.

Lucius and Scorpius were walking through the halls when a loud crash was heard from the sitting room. Scorpius’ pale blue eyes looked towards his grandfather, unsure of what to make of this situation. Such mayhem was usually caused by him. Lucius set one hand on his shoulder in comfort before the door to the sitting room seemed to drift open. The young boy could hear his mother’s voice raised in a high pitch as she shrieked at another.

“You never loved me! You have no idea what love is! All I was for you is an empty womb to shove your seed in. Well guess what, I can do whatever the bloody hell I wish! You owe me that much! Traitor!”

Lucius’ hand tightened on Scorpius’ shoulder before he tried to move the boy away from the commotion. The boy could already hear his mother’s accusations and knew who else was in the room. His father was the target of many insults, most of which Scorpius could just not understand.

His grandfather stopped him in front of the list of rules and Scorpius moved back to watch. With a delicate hand, Lucius Malfoy established his own rule for the Manor.

Rule Number Six: Astoria is never to consume more than three glasses of any alcoholic beverage in one evening.


It became obvious to Scorpius his grandfather never allowed Draco or Astoria to know their argument had been overheard. The topic would have been left alone for years if not for Scorpius’ young mind and curiosity.

The family was having their regular sit down for the night when the young boy’s question broke their familiar silence.

“What is a traitorous-arse-kissing-two-faced-fairy?

Three sets of blue eyes and one set of green focused on the youngest Malfoy. He realized too late it was one of those things you never speak of. All eyes were wide until Draco took the initiative.

“Sometimes, when your mother is not in her right mind, she misconstrues facts of the past. I am sure you have heard many bad things about me in your first year of Hogwarts. You will hear even more as time goes on, some even from our own family.” He looked pointedly at the fidgeting Astoria. “However, those things are in the past and no longer matter. What matters now is the present and future.”

Scorpius was not at all surprised to wake up the next morning to the newest addition on the list.

Rule Number Seven: No talk of the last war.


After such a rough summer, Draco welcomed the time away from his son during the school year. His mind worked on various ways to re-grow hair, wondering briefly if potions really did work. His newest hobby had become making potions, all in the hope to gain the hair of his youth back. After all, high foreheads were one thing he had always appalled.

It was one such evening the eighth rule was established.

After spending months working on a hair growth potion, Draco decided the best way to test it was on himself. After locking the door to his large bathing area, Draco breathed in deeply before gulping down the potion. He only had moments to process it tasted much too bitter before there was knocking on the door.

“There are fifteen other places to bathe in this Manor. Go away.”

“Draco Malfoy, open this door!”

Father, I am busy!”

“We need to speak.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“NO!” With a blast the door was forced open. Lucius was halfway to speaking his mind when he took a good look at his son.

It was not proper for a Malfoy to cover his mouth while his eyes watered from forcing back the effort to laugh. It was not proper for a Malfoy to laugh so heartily, pounding on his knee in amusement.

It was a good thing Lucius Malfoy was already considered to be mad these days. He certainly acted the part.

Draco’s mind worked slowly as he turned to face the large mirror, his eyes widening as he realized something very important. He really should enforce animal testing. His hair was a bright blue, sticking out of every area.

After finding a spell to regain his normal body hair rate, Draco penned the newest rule.

Rule Number Eight: If a room is locked, do not unlock it.


It was hard to believe anybody was prepared for Scorpius returning home for the summer after his second year. Draco had to extract last minute promises from his father to keep silent about many subjects. The foremost being his failed potions. It seemed his father had made a habit of breaking rule number eight just to get a good laugh in.

Astoria had been the person to pick Scorpius up this year and she had sent a note ahead of them to Draco. It only read be prepared. Draco would really have to work on her dire warnings. Be prepared for what?

After speaking with Scorpius for only five minutes it became obvious where Astoria’s warning had stemmed from. Somehow the boy had become infatuated with Professor Neville Longbottom. As he described the man’s greatness Draco became uncomfortably aware of vile bile in his mouth. He was on the verge of puking. All the ways Scorpius described Longbottom made it apparent Scorpius had a crush on his Professor.

It had been a full week of Draco’s stomach problems when Lucius was kind enough to take charge. One night at dinner Lucius calmly stated nobody cared for Professor Longbottom and if Scorpius did not cease talk of him immediately there would be a new rule.

At once Scorpius’ crush seemed to disappear and Draco was more than happy to be able to eat his full supper. The next night he could only wish he had not eaten so much since Scorpius had moved from speaking of Professor Longbottom to the amazing speeches of Professor Binns. Professor Binns of all people! Lucius’ eye was doing a spectacular twitch in annoyance and Astoria sighed.

“Scorpius darling, eat your dinner and be quiet.”

In the middle of the night Lucius and Draco met at the rules list for the same exact purpose. Draco smiled with relief as his father wrote the newest rule.

Rule Number Nine: Talk of any professors are to be kept at a five minute maximum.


A whole year passed by with little occurrences to speak of. The Malfoy family started respecting the written rules and even Lucius had stopped barging in on Draco. Though that was mainly due to Draco giving up on his hair. When asked he stated Malfoys can work any hairstyle with enough class. Even hair loss.

The next summer was ruined by Scorpius’ mouth running before his brain once again. It was after his third year of school and seemed he had taken yet another crush. This time on the eldest Potter boy. Draco’s head almost hit the table in annoyance when his son started speaking of how wonderful James Potter was at Quidditch. The pain only worsened as Scorpius spoke about how James was named after his grandfather and the grandfather was brilliant at Quidditch, so it only made sense for the current James Potter to be as well.

Lucius made it apparent he could not take much more of it and excused himself from dinner. He had lost all appetite he claimed. Draco felt a chill up his spine and knew his father from the other room was glaring at him. When he excused himself from the table he moved to the list to find the reason his father was annoyed. Lucius must have waited decades to actually make that a rule.

Rule Number Ten: No talk of any Potters.


As the summers went by Draco was pleased to notice a change in Scorpius. The normally overactive, talkative boy had gained some composure. At their nightly meals he kept his quiet unless asked. He followed every rule to the utmost. He even stopped pestering Lucius’ bloody peacocks. So it was only natural that by the summer after Scorpius’ sixth year at Hogwarts he knew something was not right. A tightening in his stomach followed him through their evening meal and he clutched at the littlest hint Scorpius was up to something. He finally had his proof when his son smiled sweetly his mother’s way, kissed her on the cheek, and bid everybody a good night. Scorpius Malfoy was being much too sweet lately. He was hiding something. He was going after the peacocks again, wasn’t he?

It would be odd if Draco followed right away so he continued his meal, ignoring the suspicious looks his own father was sending his way.

“Astoria.” He stood up from the table and gave his wife a chaste kiss. “Father.” He gave a brief nod towards a skeptical Lucius. “Goodnight.”

He barely caught the knowing look and heard Lucius say, “I would not do that if I were you.”

He pretended he could not hear anything and retreated from the room.

After a trek from one side of the Manor to the other, Draco quickly decided Malfoys stayed slim due to such exercise; he was ready to confront his son. His hand held onto the knob, but the door of Scorpius’ room was locked. Lovely. Now he was faced with a moral dilemma. He could either leave it alone or break one of his own rules.

Being a father he decided it was all for the best and unlocked the room, pushing the door open enough to see inside. The door drifted open as he stared, horrified, at the sight before him.

It was a rush of sheets and a quick DAD! shout which made him regain his senses.

Sure enough, his son was naked with a sheet pulled up around him and a rather large lump. A lump big enough to be a person. A lump with reddish-brown hair poking from the white satin sheets.

Draco’s eyes flickered over another lump in the blanketing and he groaned out loud.

“Scorpius…” He gave his son a hurt look. “How long has this been going on?” He gestured to the lump.

“Since last year.” Scorpius’ voice was faint and scared.

“How long have you been seeing her?”

“Him. Since third year.” Scorpius seemed to have gained some confidence and had sat straight up.

“Why did you feel you had to hide him?” The bulge moved, showing more messy red hair.

“Rule number ten.” The voice was not Scorpius’, but the bulge had unveiled itself. The boy was cuddling next to Scorpius and the emerald eyes made Draco’s breath stop. Figures he would have his father’s eyes. The boy pushed down the sheets and offered a hand to Draco. “Albus Severus Potter. It’s an honour to meet you sir.”

Draco was not sure when he lost consciousness. He just knew when he woke up his father was muttering, in a very un-Malfoy way, “I told you not to do it.”
Tags: *fic, fest: 2008 spring exchange, pairing: harry/draco, rating: r, words: 1000-5000
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