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littlerose13writes · 1 year

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Three Plaits by littlerose13

a Potter-Malfoy family drabble

“She’s got a temperature.” Scorpius tapped his wand to turn off the thermometer charm.

“I knew it,” Albus sat down on the bed too, looking like he was moments from catastrophizing their daughter’s slight cold into something much more dramatic.

“My neck’s got itches in,” Matilda said, sadly pointing at her throat, Prawn tucked under her arm.

“Oh, darling.” Albus scooted closer to her and pushed the blonde baby hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail away from her face. He froze, his hand still on her forehead and turned to Scorpius in concern. “Scor, she’s burning hot.”

Scorpius sighed and added the back of his hand to her head. Matilda went cross eyed looking up at her dads’ hands.

“She’s not burning,” he tried to say but Albus had moved his hand to her cheeks, which were rosier than normal.

“Shall I call my mum?”

Scorpius frowned. “I’m sure she’ll be over it by next week and we’ll still be able to go to your parents for-” He stopped and gave Albus a look. “You mean to ask her what to do?”

Albus removed his hand from Matilda’s face and looked guilty. “Not that you don’t know what to do! Or that I don’t trust you or… or anything like that.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes fondly. “I get it, when you were ill as a child your mum looked after you.”

Albus sighed. “You’re right, I’m being ridiculous.” He reached over and stroked her hair. “Your Dada’s a Healer, he knows what you need.”

Matilda leaned against him, looking glum.

“What you need is some of Daddy’s Pepperup potion,” Scorpius explained.

“Swawberry?” she asked hopefully.

Scorpius knew full well that if they didn’t have any strawberry left Albus would be in his workshop brewing a new batch of children’s Pepperup potion for her within minutes, but he nodded.

“There’s loads of strawberry.”

He’d firmly ensconced himself in Matilda’s bed at this point, her snuggled under the pale purple covers in pyjamas patterned with nifflers and rainbows (hand me downs from Pippa) and Albus atop them, his jeans stiff in comparison and a small hole in the toe of his left sock. They were both silhouetted against the headboard of Matilda’s bed, which was white and fluffy and in the shape of a cloud and had taken Scorpius and Lily hours to make for her third birthday present and Scorpius was taken with how alike they were starting to look; Matilda had Albus’ straight nose and her little cheeks were a soft version of his angled jawline.

“I’m warming up the Pepperup then, I assume,” he said with a small sigh.

“I can do it, if you want,” Albus replied, not moving an inch.

Scorpius laughed. “Yeah, that would be great actually.”

Albus’ eyes were closed, his arm around Matilda who was using his chest as a pillow, her thumb in her mouth and a tiny strand of her own hair held in her fist with Prawn; it was a habit she’d developed but her hair wasn’t long enough to reach when it was in a ponytail.

Scorpius sighed fondly and left the room, padding downstairs in his slippers to Albus’ workshop to source some strawberry Pepperup. He brought it out into the kitchen and pulled the smallest cooking cauldron they owned down to the stove top, lighting it with his wand and emptying the potion into the cauldron. It was self stirring so he left it going and pottered about the place, tidying away some of Matilda’s toys and straightening up the placemats and coasters on the kitchen table.

A soft miaow brought his attention to the front door, where Midnight was rolling around on the doormat with a feather in her paws. Scorpius grimaced and went over to investigate, hoping she hadn’t brought another dead bird into the house (Matilda had been so upset the last time) but quickly realised the feather had come from inside one of the sofa cushions.

He stroked Midnight and she purred appreciatively. She was growing rapidly, barely a kitten anymore, although Matilda still proudly told anyone who would listen about her baby kitten cat from Papa. When his dad had accidentally adopted an unknowingly pregnant cat from Dotty and Angelica, he gifted Matilda one of the jet black kittens, which Albus thought was sweet and Scorpius knew was a ploy to get one up on Harry, who had built Matilda a small treehouse last Christmas.

Midnight followed Scorpius back to the kitchen, where the Pepperup was gently warm on the stove. He transferred it to Matilda’s favourite cup (a water dragon curled up sleeping beside a pond) and carefully carried it upstairs, Midnight still at his feet.

“Potion for our poorly poppet,” he said, pushing open the door to find Albus with a book open straight up above both their heads, reading enthusiastically.

He paused and looked over at the door. “Looks like Midnight wanted to see if you were okay, Tils.”

Matilda tried to crane her neck over at the door but Midnight must have been too far down for her to see.

“Here you go, this will make you feel better.”

Together they sat her up in bed, Albus propping her pillows up behind her and Scorpius tucking her duvet tighter around her legs. She drank the potion and did a funny sort of shudder as the warming sensation ran through her body. Albus’ children’s version was much gentler than the original recipe.

“Do you think she’ll be well enough to go to the P A R T Y?” Albus murmured.

Scorpius felt doubtful. “Not while she’s running a fever like this. We should owl Teddy and Vic.”

Albus’ eyebrows shot up but it was too late.

“Teddy and Vic,” Matilda said sleepily. “Rufus got a party today.”

Scorpius sighed and closed his eyes in frustration. “Sorry,” he mouthed at Albus.

“I want free plaits, Daddy,” Matilda said, carefully concentrating on holding up three fingers to Albus.

“I… don’t know if you have enough hair for three, darling.”

Matilda nodded defiantly. “Yes I do!”

“We might have to put the third one in Daddy’s hair,” Scorpius said, hoping he could move the subject on from Rufus’ birthday party.

Albus self-consciously tightened the messy bun his long hair was in. “No. No plaits for Daddy today.”

Matilda giggled, pulling back her covers and reaching up to rub her hands all over Albus’ hair. “Yes! Free plaits for Daddy’s hair!”

“Daddy did not agree to this,” Albus said, laughing as her hands scrabbled about the top of his head, bouncing on the bed on her knees.

Scorpius laughed. “The potion’s working already.”

“Yes, it’s very good, I know the potioneer personally.”

“Can I wear my blue party dress?” Matilda put in.

They exchanged glances, wordlessly having the conversation do you want to tell her or shall I?

“Darling, my sweetheart,” Albus stalled, pulling Matilda onto his lap and looking at Scorpius to continue. He widened his eyes and shook his head. “Well, the thing is, darling, when you’re poorly like this, you can’t go to parties.”

Matilda froze in his lap, her lips pressed together in disbelief. She stared at Albus with an expression of great betrayal and looked immediately at Scorpius instead.

“It’s true, princess. You have to stay at home and get all better.”

Her bottom lip quivered and Albus cuddled her into him. “I know it’s disappointing, petal. But-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a loud cry from Matilda. Albus looked pained as he held her tightly.

“I… want… Papa,” she managed to say between noisy sobs.

Scorpius bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing as Albus looked confused.

“You want… Papa?”

“Because he always says yes,” Scorpius sighed. “Matilda, even Papa would say no to going to a party when you’re not very well.”

“He isn’t!” Matilda insisted tearfully. “Papa isn’t say no!”

“Why don’t we see if Papa can come round instead?” Albus said invitingly.

“Erm, no,” Scorpius said urgently. “He’s in France, remember?” he hissed.

Albus blanched and hurried to correct his offer. “Or Granny and Grandpa!” He stopped and took on a thoughtful expression. “Although I suppose they’ll be at the… how about we bake a cake to send to Papa?” he offered randomly instead.

Matilda shook her head and flopped dramatically face first onto her bed in disappointment, sighing loudly.

“You didn’t finish your book!” Scorpius offered, picking it up.

Matilda shook her head again, still pressed up against the covers of her bed.

“What would you like to do? Inside the house,” Albus added hurriedly.

She lifted her head and eyed them both carefully. “Free plaits,” she said, once again holding up three fingers.

Scorpius saw his husband eye Matilda’s fine, wispy hair in apprehension.

He nodded. “Three plaits it is.”

#scorbus #albus potter #scorpius malfoy #ccsquad #matilda potter-malfoy #i knew it all along #swf #sweeter than fiction #matilda #shab #i want to write more but make it more christmassy #accepting christmas prompts!#or do i dig out some old shipmas prompts...

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