for brokenbottleauroa

Since Astoria died, Draco has found himself spending a lot of time at the Potter home, courtesy of Scorpius.

When he was a teenager, this is the last thing he expected he would be doing with his life, but. Here he is.

Potter himself is still difficult to tolerate; he and his son do not get along and Draco has taken Allie under his wing, so to speak. It makes Potter seem even worse, honestly - Draco has long since learned the value of such a relationship and thinks Potter takes it too lightly.

Ginny Potter, on the other hand… she is much more than he ever thought she was.

She has a spark for life, much like Astoria did. She lives fast and in the moment; it's wonderfully refreshing, and he can see why she was so popular in school and why Potter fell for her.

"Awfully hopeless, aren't they?"

Draco blinks, adjusting his grip on his glass as he looks up to the right. Ginny sits in the chair next to him with a weighted sigh, staring out over the yard.

He looks when she's looking, and immediately knows what she's talking about. "Yes," he agrees.

Scorpius and Albus are the sons of successful Quidditch players without an ounce of flying talent in their bones. It's amusing and baffling to watch them try to control their brooms, screaming all the while.

Ginny sighs again, her head tilting back as she looks to the sky. Her hair falls over her shoulders, slightly damp with sweat. "Not sure how that happened," she muses. "But they love doing the opposite of what's expected, I suppose." Her gaze flits to him suddenly. "How are you, Draco?"

"Fine?" he guesses, slightly surprised.

She eyes him dubiously. "You've just been stopping by quite frequently," she says. Her tone is delicate and her expression open.

"You make decent lemonade," he defends, lifting his glass as evidence. He doesn't care for the way she seems to be puzzling out his secrets while looking at him upside down.

She might be charming and charismatic, but it seems like she's also got actual intelligence behind that, unlike the rest of her idiot brothers.

"It was my grandmother's recipe," she says, apparently playing along, "but she got it from a store clerk in Muggle London, so I'm not sure how original or special it really is."

He doesn't answer that; luckily, she doesn't seem to expect him to, turning her sights back to her son with raised eyebrows. "If you lean forward the broom will move!" she yells, making both boys jump and look over. They scowl at her in unison. It's a patented Slytherin expression, one that Ginny has probably become well acquainted with. She just stares at them, expectant.

Allie leans forward slightly after several moments and nearly flies into a tree. Draco snorts, amused.

"Amazing," Ginny breathes, sounding dismayed.

"Sorry?" Draco offers distantly, watching the boys curse the hell out of the brooms and trees, looking embarrassed and angry.

Ginny huffs, a sound that could be condescending or mirthful; he isn't sure. "I've had enough," she says. "Let's go."

She untangles herself from the chair and pulls a hair tie out of the pocket of her jeans to tug her hair up. She turns that expectant gaze to him, eyebrows raised and hand extended to him.

"Go?" he repeats, wary.

"Let's show them how this is done," she clarifies.

He's not sure this is a good idea, but he puts his glass on the ground and allows her to pull him up. She stalks off. The boys spot her almost instantly and blanch.

It'll be funny, if nothing else. Life at the Potter household tends to be more… exuberant than anything he encounters on a regular basis, at any rate.

What follows is easily the most fantastic bit of flying he's seen in quite some time, if only because Ginny is a professional and her son is decidedly not a Gryffindor. She swings onto the broom behind him and guides it forward - slowly, at first, but that lasts for all of thirty seconds before she pulls it into a sharp incline and Allie starts screaming.

Scorpius comes to stand next to him, looking up at his friend, contemplative. Draco's breath is caught in his throat just watching this spectacle, so he almost misses the worried look Scorpius sends his way. As it is, he's quite attuned to his son, so glances over. "Hm?" he asks, catching his eye briefly then looking as Ginny makes a sharp turn. Allie is white as a sheet, holding tightly to his mother's wrists as she guides the broom.

"You're not going to do that to me, are you?"

Draco scoffs. "Of course not," he says. Scorpius looks relieved, so Draco adds, "Those brooms aren't designed for this in the long term."

He's well versed in keeping his face blank, so doesn't break into laughter when Scorpius lets out a squeak and pales.

Ginny finally brings the broom back down. Allie scrambles off, tripping over himself as he heads to Scorpius, latching onto the other teen desperately. Draco doesn't bother listening to their conversation and just looks at Ginny as she smirks and winks at him, jerking her head back to the porch where their chairs are.

"Here's to having fun," she says, and picks Draco's drink off the ground. She raises it and smiles.

Thankfully she doesn't drink it.

He takes the glass back and returns the sentiment, then finishes the lemonade.