Envenomed Petals

You Raise Me Up

-V-

He waggles his fists in the air, drool running across his chin, and he fights to keep his eyes open as his mother rocks them both upon the chair. He doesn't want to sleep – it's still quite early – and all he wants is to go back to the living room and watch cartoons.

His mother rubs at his chin with a facecloth, and he glares at her when she begins to stroke the tufts of platinum-blond atop his head. It's relaxing, and he's already feeling the allure of sleep begin to creep into his bones despite his best wishes.

Then she begins to hum, and it's a gentle lullaby. Even if there are no words, he can't help but let his eyelids flutter shut as he drifts into the world of dreams.

.o0o.

He's terrified.

His father's toes are barely skimming the grass, but to him, it feels like they're up above the clouds. It doesn't matter that he's the one who's been nagging his parents to let him fly for the past few weeks – no, the only thing that matters now is that he gets his feet back safely on the ground.

A high-pitched squeal tears its way out of his throat, and he holds himself stiff as a board, seeing his entire all-too-short life flash before his eyes. His father's has one arm hooked around him, the other holding onto the broom, but that does little to slow the furious beating of his heart as they begin to rise up higher into the sky.

"Doe wanna fall," he mumbles, his voice lisping ever so slightly as his tongue slips through the gaps between his teeth.

"I'll never let you fall, Orion," says Daddy, and even though he's still terrified, he believes him.

When they finally reach the clouds, there's no denying that the view is like nothing he's ever seen.

.o0o.

"Grandpa Draco," he whines, flashing his trademark puppy-dog eyes. He extends his lower lip in a flawless Malfoy pout, and hops onto the armrest of the sofa.

"Ryan." Grandpa looks up from his paper, frowning at his expression before reaching over to tousle his hair. "What's the matter?"

"I want a dog, and Dad doesn't want to get me one."

He can see the gears turning in his grandfather's head, and he knows that the man is no fool. There's no denying that Grandpa can see right through his childish antics, but of course, like all grandparents, doesn't care.

It's something that Orion's learned over the years. It's his parents' job to raise him and be strict when need be, but it's his grandparents' job to spoil him rotten and deny him nothing.

Besides, Uncle Albus just bought Leo a new puppy . . . and he wants one too!

A few hours later, he's grinning happily with his arms wrapped around his new golden retriever, and burrowing his face into the silky, golden fur. Grandpa Draco looks at him, smiling, and he wonder if he'll be able to wrangle anything else out of the man before the week is done.

Then the fireplace roars to life and he looks up to see his father step into the room, dusting the soot of his trousers with a tired look on his face.

Dad shakes his head at the sight of the dog, and he holds up a hand to silence him before he can even begin pleading.

He pouts, holding onto the puppy and letting it nuzzle at his neck.

"Scorpius," says Grandpa Draco in a voice much sharper than he's known for. "Let my grandson have his dog, or I swear I shall buy him the dragon he's been asking for."

"But Dad!" protested Dad, and Orion giggled, knowing that the argument was already won. He'd get his puppy, and if he played his cards right, he'd get the dragon too.

"Don't make me get your mother," concludes Grandpa sternly, "You know that the only side she takes these days is her grandkids'."

.o0o.

"This is boring," he complains, tugging at his cap to try and shade his face from the burning sun. His father should know by now that he's inherited the famous Malfoy complexion, and that he, like everyone else in the both save for his Uncle Albus, is going to be burned to a crisp if they stay out in the sun much longer.

The boredom of this bonding exercise doesn't help him in the slightest.

"Ryan's right," says Leo, pouting at Uncle Albus. "Why can't we just go buy fish from the store like normal people, Dad?"

Crossing his arms and abandoning his fishing rod, Orion turns to glare at his father, and Leo imitates him without a moment's notice. They've been sitting in this boat for nearly an hour and nothing's happened, so Merlin alone knows how long it will take for them to actually catch something.

"This is a great character building activity," scowls his father, running a hand through his sweaty, blond hair, and frowning down at him. "Your Grandpa Harry highly recommended it."

"I recall him actually telling us to never eat freshly caught fish cooked by your mother while living in a tent and hiding from Death Eaters," muses Uncle Albus, eliciting a smug look from Leo. Orion smirks at his father, waiting to see how he'll respond, when Uncle Albus goes on. "So, how about we swim back to shore and I'll Apparate to the nearest Burger King?"

He's about to agree when he notices the crestfallen look on his dad's face, and he presses his lips together. Biting his lip, he says, "You know what, maybe if I stay another half-hour, something will bite."

"Suit yourself," says Uncle Albus, stripping of his shirt and diving into the lake with a loud splash. A second later, Leo joins him, and the two Potters begin swimming to the shore. Watching them go, he ignores the growling of his stomach, and picks his rod back up, grinning at his father's broad smile.

Even later, when they get home and his mother has to spend the entire night treating both him and his father for what feels like third degree burns along their skin, he knows that it's worth it.

.o0o.

"Promise me that you're going to write at least once a week," says Mum, wiping away a tear as she clutches his shoulder.

"Mum, I–"

"And your father would be here, but he had to take Grandma Hermione to St. Mungo's after she fell and broke her hip climbing those horrible stairs."

"Yeah, I kn–"

"You look so much like your father on his first day, oh, you're going to be graduating in no time at all and, Merlin, my baby boy is all grown up."

"MUM! The train's leaving!"

.o0o.

"Gryffindor!"

The Hat falls silent after its proclamation, but he can already see Leo frowning at him from the Slytherin table. He can only imagine the shocked expression plastered across his face, but he really can't help it – especially since he's likely the first Malfoy in history to have been Sorted into the House of Lions.

Clenching his fists as he approaches the table, it only strikes him that they're cheering when he takes his seat. Overwhelmed, he turns his attention to his empty plate, only looking up when he feels someone nudge his shoulder.

"Hullo," says a tanned boy, whom he recognises as a first year like him. "I'm Jeremy Wood – guess we'll be rooming together for the next seven years."

"Orion Potter-Malfoy," he replies, eagerly shaking hands. He's quite glad to have made a friend, and it's a strange but welcome turn of events when Jeremy doesn't immediately ask about his Grandma Hermione and Grandpa Harry.

Sometimes, having war-heroes on both sides of his family tree is quite annoying, especially when everyone is more interested in getting to know about his relationship to them than getting to know him for who he is.

As if reading his mind, Jeremy says, "If you promise to never bring up Oliver and Katie Wood, or their Quidditch careers, then I'll never bring up your grandparents and the war."

"Deal," he agrees, grinning, just as a dark-skinned girl settles down on his other side. She looks vaguely familiar, and he thinks she might be a friend of the family, or perhaps a cousin by marriage, but it's only when she speaks that he makes the connection.

"Yes, my last name is Scamander. Yes, my grandmother's name is Luna. Yes, the best way to have your eyeballs ripped from their sockets is to ask me for her autograph."

Orion nods, and it's in that moment that an unlikely trio is formed, one that's soon made a sextuplet by the addition of his cousins, Leo Potter and Andrea Lupin, and a silent yet violent Ravenclaw by the name of Cecilia Pierce.

.o0o.

Odgen's Firewhisky. Oak-Matured Mead. Elderberry Wine.

He frowns as he digs through his parent's liquor cabinet, trying in vain to find what he's looking for. He knows it's in here somewhere, probably pushed near the back since it's not a drink parents in their late-thirties are known for indulging in.

Shoving aside a crystalline bottle filled with a shimmering purple liquid, he pauses to read the label – because he's sure he's never seen alcohol quite like this before. Written in flowing black script across the label are the words, Nymph's Delight, and right below the name is the slogan: Never bring your heart to a witch fight, rather, bed them both with but a drop of Nymph's Delight.

Shuddering, he forces the bile back down his throat, and shoves the aphrodisiac back into place.

Finally, he feels a grin spread across his cheeks, and he extricates the bottle, taking care to not knock any of the others out of place. Still smiling, he makes his way back to his friends in the living room, thinking how lucky it is that his friend's are all free on the one night that his parent's are spending at the Manor.

"I drink to make other people more interesting," he announces, rolling his eyes at his friends. "It's a good theory since you all are such boring people."

"You haven't touched a drink in your life," supplies Leo with a snort, grinning quite wickedly with his girlfriend in his lap. Cecilia seems equally amused, her violet eyes sparkling with mirth, as Orion tries and fails to mask his blush.

Cheeks stained pink, he settles back into the armchair and, with a flick of his wand, makes the tequila pour itself into the assembled shot glasses.

"How about we play a drinking game?" says Jeremy, smirking. "Never have I ever?"

He shrugs in response, and even as the rest of the room agrees, he knows that if he doesn't want to answer, he'll simply lie. As if to quash his hopes, Jeremy produces a tiny vial and without hesitating, tips a drop into each shot glass.

"Veritaserum," he says, "To make sure we're all playing fair."

"Great," replies Orion, his voice laced with sarcasm as he knocks back the truth-potion laced shot and flicks his wand for the next round to be poured. "I'll go first." He screws up his nose, trying to think of the most outrageous thing he can come up with to open the game with, and finally, it comes to him. "Never have I ever had sex when there was someone else in the room."

His victorious smirk falls when both Leo and Cecilia drink, each wearing matching impassive expressions. Shrugging as though it's no big deal, Cecilia raises her eyebrow and says, "Remember when Leo spent the night with you boys in the Gryffindor dorms? Well, let's just say you dorks could sleep through a hippogriff giving birth."

"Moving on," interjects Keira with a shudder, "Never have I ever cheated on a test." Orion smiles as he downs his shot and refills the empty glasses, feeling the pleasant burn coursing down his throat, and he feels himself relax as the game plays on.

It's a little embarrassing, but all in good fun, even though he's certain that he's going to have to jinx Leo with everything he has once he's sufficiently sober. By the time the bottle's half-empty, it's become known that Leo and Cecilia have been an immensely risqué couple – going so far as to shag in Orion's bed the previous summer.

"Never have I ever fooled around with my significant other on a broomstick," slurs Jeremy, giggling hysterically as he leans back into Andrea Lupin, who simply laughs, her hair changing colours every minute.

Orion's rolling his eyes as, unsurprisingly, Leo and Cecilia bring their tequila to their lips when the shot glass falls out of Leo's hands. At first, he thinks it's just that his cousin is drunk . . . but then he notices the gleam of fear in his cousin's eyes.

"Never have I ever been this grounded in my life," says a quiet voice from behind him, and he feels a shard of ice sliver down his spine. Gooseflesh rising across his arms, his gut ties themselves into a knot and he swallows, and all it takes is a quick glance over his shoulder is all it takes to guarantee how royally screwed he is.

His mother stands in the fireplace with her hands on her hips, but he isn't sure if the flames are from the Floo . . . or if she's actually breathing fire.

.o0o.

"Harder," she murmurs into his ear, her nails leaving red lines down his back. "Merlin, Orion, that feels good." Her voice is sinful and wanton, and he moans as she licks at the shell of his ear.

He obliges, increasing the speed of his somewhat sloppy thrusts as he nips at her exposed throat, inhaling the rich smell of patchouli clinging to her hair. Her leg comes up to hook around his waist, and he feels his toes curl as she clenches around him.

"Gonna cu–" he gasps, only to be interrupted by his own cry of ecstasy as he finds his release, and in that brief moment he sees stars. Her moans echo in his ears, mingled with his cries, and he bites down involuntarily to leave a love-bite upon her throat.

He slumps forward, rolling to the side at the last moment to lie beside her rather than on her, and he sighs as she runs a finger down his spine.

"That was fun," says Keira Scamander, "If I'd known this felt so good, I wouldn't have held out on you so long."

Orion chuckles at her, tilting his head to capture her lips, when suddenly, he hears the door swing open. He freezes, yanking the sheets up to cover them both, but one look over his shoulder at his father's mortified face is enough to tell him that the damage has already been done.

He's just thankful that it's not his mother, because he may be of age, but that won't stop Lily Potter-Malfoy from grounding him at all.

Still, he's sure that there's going to be some form of punishment coming his way – this is his parent's room, after all.

.o0o.

He shivers, swallowing as he sees her walk down the aisle. She's absolutely breathtaking, the sleek ivory of her gown a stark contrast to her ebony skin. Her dreadlocks falls past her shoulders, and even though everyone they know has tried to get her to straighten her hair, she isn't having any of it – and he supports her all the way. He'll marry her bald if need be, because appearances have never truly been what kept them together – never. Her father, Lysander, strides at her side, but his attention soon shifts at the sounds of mild sobbing coming from the front row.

Turning, he sees his mother sobbing in into a lace handkerchief, with his father's arm around her shoulder. He smiles at her reassuringly, before turning his attention back to Keira, just as she reaches the base of the altar and begins climbing the stairs.

"You look beautiful," he whispers, taking her hand when her father offers it to him.

"Don't I always?" she teases, winking,

He isn't afraid to say that he daydreamed through most of the ceremony, but eventually, when the time came for him to say his vows, the first words to leave his mouth are,

"If a mother is her son's queen, then you, Keira, are my princess. . ."

.o0o.

Keira let out a shriek of pain, her nails gouging his wrist, and she clamped her eyes shut. He bit his lip, determined not to let his pain show – especially since her agony easily dwarfs his own.

He remembers his father's advice, and his mother's disturbing facts regarding the birth of a child, and he says, in what he hopes is his most comforting voice,

"I'm right here, Keira, we're almost there."

"WE?" she shrieks, gnashing her teeth together as she whips her head around to face him. "I don't see you shoving something the size of a melon out of something the size of a pea!"

"You're almost there," he amends, wincing as she digs her nails in a little deeper, "Just a little more till out baby girl is born."

"If she doesn't hurry, I swear I'm going to stick my hand in there and yank her out," barks Keira, her words punctuated by sharp gasps and the Healer's gentle words of encouragement.

When, two hours later, the sound of crying fills the air, Orion's first thought is that if he can be half as good a parent as his mother and father have been to him, then Calypso Hermione Potter-Malfoy is going to be the luckiest girl in the world.

Word Count: 2972

.o0o.

Author's Note:

Written for Round 13 of the Third Season of the Quidditch League. Task: Write about anything.

This concludes the Envenomed Petals Saga of One-Shots. I know this chapter doesn't really have as much Scorily in it as the others, and focuses more on their son, but that was my intention – to show them as parent's.

The thing is, parents are a child's entire worlds – but as the kids get older, they sought of lose importance in how people see the world. But, that doesn't mean they're not there, that they're not still guiding and helping, and I hope I managed to convey that in such a limited wordcount.

I plan to return to this eventually and add a few more vignettes, but the deadline is calling

Prompts:

(quote) 'Never bring your heart to a witch fight.' - Once Upon A Time
- (word) echo
-(quote) 'I drink to make other people more interesting' - Ernest Hemingway