Raindrops on Roses

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backinyourbox, Miss Saigon (backinyourbox)

Chapter Text

2017-2018

-*~A~*-

Rose and Albus sat with James, Fred and Roxanne on the train. The older three were boisterous and insisted on dousing the lights and closing the curtains - with their wands - so they could play exploding snap in the dark. Albus suspected they wanted to do this just so they could use magic, having not been able to show off for the whole summer holidays. He pulled out one of his schoolbooks. He had already read most of them at least once, or at least skimmed through the most important or interesting bits. He knew Rose had read hers thoroughly, twice.

He was sick with nerves. His dad's secret about the Sorting Hat had made him feel a little better, knowing he couldn't end up in Slytherin if he really didn't want to. He allowed himself to consider it, but tossed the idea aside quickly. James would never let him hear the end of it, and his uncle Ron, no matter what his dad said, would probably never forgive him. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he wanted to be in Gryffindor, either. From what James made out, he and the twins were on their way to being the most famous troublemakers in Hogwarts history - a high target, considering the competition even within their own family. He didn't quite fancy living with that over his head for a whole six years. Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would be all right, he supposed, but then he'd be all on his own, and it wasn't as though he hated his family, he just didn't want them around all the time.

"Rosie?" he asked quietly as the other three laughed uproariously over a particularly spectacular explosion that momentarily lit up the dark carriage.

"Mm?" His cousin looked up at him from where she sat on the other side of the table, reading by the light of a little Muggle torch she had brought with her. Albus wondered vaguely how she'd known to bring it.

"You want to be in Gryffindor, right?"

Rose shrugged. "I guess. Never thought about it much."

"How can you not think about it? It's all I've been thinking about for weeks."

She giggled and closed the book, leaving her finger between the pages to mark her place. It was Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. She was probably memorising it, Albus thought enviously. "Well I don't really mind, I suppose. Mum said not to worry about Houses, and the Sorting Hat is always right anyway."

"My dad told me the Hat lets us choose Houses, if we want. It did for him, he says."

Rose's eyes widened. "What? But then what's the point of it? I thought the whole idea was..."

"I dunno, do I? It's news to me I know all about it. I'm just glad I don't have to be in Slytherin."

Rose bit her lip and looked worried. Albus was secretly pleased about this, as it meant he was no longer the only one fretting. "Well..." she thought out loud. "Our parents were in Gryffindor, weren't they? So were all our uncles, and our grandparents. So that's probably where we'll end up."

"Who says? Anyway I have to put up with James all summer already, I don't see why I should have to deal with it at school as well."

Rose looked surprised. "Oh Alby. He's not that bad."

At that point, the pile of Exploding Snap cards went off so dramatically that Fred was forced to put out a small fire in the upholstery with his wand.

"The three of them together are," Albus muttered. "I just want to do well in classes and not get expelled, and not have to come with excuses for them when they keep getting in trouble, and I know that's what I'll have to do if I end up sharing a common room with them."

Rose sighed. "I suppose. But what can you do about it now? Just wait and see what the hat says."

Albus knew this was the only thing he could do, but it didn't make him feel anymore comfortable.

It was James who announced imperiously, hours later, that it was time to get changed into their school robes. Albus rolled his eyes, but did what he was told, worried that he would be the only one still in his Muggle clothes when the train stopped. As it was, it was a another half an hour before the train slowed into Hogsmeade station.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over 'ere!"

Albus grinned. "Hi Hagrid!" he called, dragging his trunk over to where the huge man was gathering a group of children who all seemed to be about the same height, and the same level of terrified. Rose wasn't far behind him.

"'Ello, you two!" Hagrid beamed at them from behind his bushy beard, black but shot through with grey. "How's yeh mums and dads?"

"Fine," Albus replied, noticing that everyone else was looking worried, as if they also ought to be on a first name basis with the tall man. "Dad says hi, and Mum says to please not let me do a Dennis, whatever that means." Hagrid burst out laughing.

Albus felt a little better as he left his trunk behind and followed Hagrid to the boats, waving occasionally to a couple of people he knew. He was glad that he wasn't doing this totally unaware of what was going to happen, like his dad had done. The girl nearest him was wide-eyed and shaking slightly as she got into the boat with him and Rose and an Asian boy. "Don't worry," he told her as the boats set off by themselves from the shore, and she let out a little squeak of surprise. "Hagrid won't let us drown. What's your name?"

"Belinda," the girl whispered, doing all she could to keep herself in the middle of the boat as much as possible.

"I'm Jian," said the boy, without being asked. "We met on the train - she's Muggleborn."

Albus thought this was a rather rude way to introduce someone, and from the look on Rose's face, she agreed.

"I'm Albus," he said to Belinda. Jian's eyebrows instantly rose, but Albus ignored him. "And this is my cousin Rose. Promise we won't let you fall in."

Belinda smiled back, weakly. Jian was apparently too polite, too intimidated, or too distracted, to enquire further. By the time they reached the other side, Belinda was already somewhat calmer, and Albus had almost completely forgotten about the Sorting.

He remembered all too vividly however when they were led inside the Great Hall and met by Professor Longbottom. Albus could see Lizzie Longbottom, who occasionally joined her brother and parents at the Weasley house for Christmas, somewhere in front of him, whispering excitedly to a blonde companion he didn't recognise. Professor Longbottom smiled at them all and explained the process of the Sorting, though Albus was barely listening. The nerves had ridden up again and were making his heartbeat very distracting.

They entered the Great Hall to a chorus of cheers and applause. It took Albus a while to figure out the layout of the House tables and recognise his brother and cousins at the Gryffindor table. His older cousins, Victoire and Dominique, were sitting a bit further up, also at Gryffindor but surrounded by their friends, most of whom seemed to be boys, Albus noticed. The girls did tend to have that effect on people.

Professor Longbottom had produced the Sorting Hat, which was not nearly as impressive as Albus had imagined. It began singing, which he also had not been told about, and he found the sound rather more annoying than interesting. He looked up at the staff table and saw a few familar faces, including Headmistress McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Firenze, who was standing, but looked nonetheless comfortable. He had met them all several times at the annual memorial service held at the school, and various family events. He liked Professor Flitwick, who he had outgrown at the age of eight, but still found McGonagall rather intimidating.

He jumped when Rose nudged him and he realised that the singing had stopped and Neville had already started reading out the names. He was instantly glad that the names were in alphabetical order by last name, not first. He watched, trying to calm his pounding heart, as Ascott, Belinda, was sorted into Hufflepuff. Lizzie, when her turn came, also ended up in Hufflepuff, which she seemed happy with. Albus thought her mother might have been a Hufflepuff. Professor Longbottom certaintly looked pleased enough, but only allowed himself a wide smile at Lizzie as she sat down at the clapping Hufflepuff table.

Immediately after Lizzie was read out, came 'Malfoy, Scorpius'. Albus looked up, interested. He had been too worried about James' taunts at the train station to have paid proper attention to the blonde boy. The room certainly seemed to have gone rather quiet at his name. He looked very small, and very pale, as he stepped forward to have the hat put on his head. He sat there for a long time. Eventually the hat opened its brim and yelled "RAVENCLAW!"

Albus blinked in surprise. Weren't all the Malfoys supposed to be in Slytherin? Certainly there was some whispering as well as scattered applause from the Ravenclaw table as the boy, looking relieved rather than disappointed, went to sit down at the empty end. He didn't have much time to worry about it though, because Professor Longbottom was saying, "Potter, Albus". There was a whoop from the Gryffindor table, accompanied by quite a lot of whispering from the whole room. Albus didn't dare look at James, who was almost certainly the culprit of the unexpected cheer. He clenched his teeth and sat on the chair as though it might be the last thing he would ever do. The hat, as it came down, slipped slightly over his eyes. He jumped as the hat's voice, apparently inside his head, began ruminating.

'Another Potter, eh? Well, let's see. Gryffindor would do, of course, plenty of bravery here, but I sense reservation. A little more ambition, perhaps?'

'No no no!' Albus thought quickly. 'I'm not ambitious at all. Opposite in fact. I just want to study and pass my exams and not get expelled.'

'Are you sure? I believe I sense a desire to live up to certain expectations, to be as well-loved as your father, perhaps?'

'I don't want to be famous,' Albus insisted, beginning to panic. What if what had happened with his dad had just been a fluke, and the hat was really just going to make up its own mind?

'Famous is not the same thing as being well-loved. But if you're sure, better be -

"RAVENCLAW!"

Albus let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. He opened his eyes and immediately spotted James, staring at him open-mouthed. He took off the hat, handed it back meekly and hurried over to the Ravenclaw table, which had suddenly burst into enthusiastic applause.

"All right!" one of the older students exclaimed as he sat down. "About time we got a Potter!"

"Better hope he doesn't immediately lose us points," grumbled another. "Potters are famous for that."

Albus found himself sitting almost immediately across from the Malfoy boy, who seemed to be doing his best not to stare at him. He forced himself not to look at James, Fred or Roxie, and brought his attention back to the Sorting, feeling the pain in his chest subside. It was done now, anyway. At least he could make his own way, even if he wasn't sure how easy it would be to make friends with people he didn't even know...

He was to be proven wrong on this at least. Rose was the very last person to be Sorted, and barely two seconds after touching her head, the hat yelled "RAVENCLAW!"

Albus gaped at her as she skipped, beaming, up to the table and sat next to him. "But... you wanted Gryffindor!" he exclaimed at her over the applause.

"Changed my mind," she said, grinning at him. "You didn't think I'd leave you all alone here, did you?"

Albus felt a strong urge to hug her, but had to resort to grinning back as Professor McGonagall was standing up to begin her welcome speech.

-*~R~*-

Rose woke up later than she had meant to, the next day. She had stayed up until past midnight, unable to sleep in an unfamiliar bed surrounded by strangers. In the girls' dormitory, she didn't even have Albus to talk to. She gave up eventually and pulled out her copy ofA Standard Book of Spells, reading it until she eventually fell asleep.

By the time she got down to breakfast, Albus was already there with the other first years. There were four first year boys in Ravenclaw, and five girls.

"Timetables," Albus said cheerfully as she sat down, handing her one. "Professor Flitwick brought them, they're the same for all of us."

Excited, Rose skimmed the timetable as she ate. "Transfiguration first," she said eagerly, "with Hufflepuff."

"Oh yeah," Albus said, looking a bit guilty. "Um, I told Lizzie I'd sit with her. That ok?"

"Of course," she said, though she felt secretly a bit put out. They met Lizzie and began trying to find their way to the Transfiguration classroom, leaving the rest of the Ravenclaws to catch them up.

"So, Lizzie Longbottom," Albus teased as they climbed the giant staircase in the entrance hall. "How are the Hufflepuffs taking you having your Dad on staff?"

"Oh it's so embarrassing!" Lizzie sighed dramatically. "But not too bad. I mean, so far, they've all said they like Dad, and at least he's not my Head of House, as well. I don't think I'll have it as bad as Tony."

Rose remembered there had been some trouble some years ago when Lizzie's brother Anthony, now a fourth year Gryffindor, had started school as the first student in over a century to have a parent in the staffroom. He certainly wouldn't be the last, as the new Hogwarts teachers were nearly all recent graduates themselves. Experienced educators, Rose remembered her mother remarking, were sadly thin on the ground.

"I'm sure I'll do well in Herbology," Lizzie was saying. "I mean, I've been helping Daddy with the garden at home since I was two, and when he's at home he doesn't shut up about his classes… but when Tony did well they all thought it was favouritism… until he got in a fight about it and Dad was furious and gave him detention. I think they mostly shut up after that."

With some directions from other students and a rather irritated ghost, they eventually made it to their classroom. Albus and Lizzie went to sit together near the front, while Rose, sighing slightly, sat at the empty desk opposite them. She pulled out her textbook, her wand and some parchment, and began flicking through the pages, wondering what they would be learning.

As the other students started filing in, someone eventually came and sat next to her. She looked up and was surprised to find it was the Malfoy boy. She wasn't totally sure what to think of him. Based on her parents' stories about his father, she had been sure that he would be cold, mean, even vicious towards her and Albus. But as far as she knew he hadn't said more than two words to his housemates, or anyone, since they had first arrived.

"Hi," she said nervously, thinking it might be rude to just ignore him.

He looked up at her, his expression unreadable. "Good morning," he replied. She was surprised to find that his voice was slightly accented – French, she was sure. She might not have noticed it except that she was used to hearing her cousins Vic, Dom and Louis speak in the same way.

"Comment ça va?" she tried.

The pale face lit up and he began speaking eagerly in very fast, fluid French that was totally unintelligible to Rose. She shook her head. "Um, sorry. I only know a bit, from my cousins."

The eagerness subsided, but he continued to smile at her. "Oh well," he said, suddenly shy again.

"I'm Rose Weasley," she introduced herself, holding out a hand.

He must have known who she was before, from the Sorting, but he seemed to hesitate and his manner flattened slightly when she spoke her name. He shook her hand, a bit reluctantly. "Scorpius Malfoy," he replied, then, after a moment, "you have French cousins?"

"Three of them," she explained. "Their dad is my dad's brother, he's all Weasley, but their Mum's French. Is yours?"

"No," Scorpius replied. "I just live there. All my friends are French. We speak English at home, though."

"Right," Rose chided herself. It was difficult to remember actual facts about the Malfoys, such as where they lived, when her father's numerous rants about the 'bloodsucking little ferret' kept ringing in her ears. "Did you want to be in Ravenclaw?" she asked, unable to stop herself.

He managed a little half smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Father wanted me in Slytherin, but mother was a Ravenclaw, so he can't complain."

"Oh."

"He'd be furious if I'd ended up in Hufflepuff, though."

"Or Gryffindor?"

Scorpius laughed softly. "He'd kill me."

Rose was trying to decide whether or not he meant 'he'll kill me' in the traditional figurative sense, or the literal, when the teacher walked in.

Transfiguration was very interesting. Professor Ashborne covered most of the first chapter of the textbook, and set a short essay that Rose was sure she could at least start, if not finish, over lunch. The time seemed to fly. Scorpius didn't say anything else, but took notes in a neat, elegant script that would have put all her cousins to shame. The second half of the class was spent trying to turn matchsticks into needles, which Rose did on the third try, and Albus on the fourth. She grinned at him from across the desk. Scorpius, she noticed, had done it on the first try. She wondered if her dad had meant what he had said about her beating Scorpius in every test. It didn't look likely so far. Professor Ashborne seemed to be doing her best not to look impressed.

"That was fun," Rose remarked off-handedly when the class was over, and they were packing up their bags.

"I suppose," Scorpius replied, shrugging.

"You're very good at it," she tried. Albus was already waiting by the door, staring at her impatiently.

"Not really," he replied, in a manner that seemed annoyingly over-modest. "I've already covered most of the Transfiguration work for this term."

"Oh, so have I," Rose said quickly, not wanting him to think she was a complete dunce. "I've read the textbook three times, and some of my mother's old books from second year –"

"I mean the practical work," Scorpius interrupted. He didn't sound as though he was boasting at all, in fact, he was barely meeting her eyes, as though he was a bit ashamed.

Rose stared at him. "But, the Statute for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry…"

"Oh that." Scorpius smiled at her. "Don't think my father cares too much about that. Anyway the laws are different in France. You can practice magic at home as long as you're supervised."

Rose was immediately jealous and fascinated all at once, but Scorpius was already heading to the door, and she had to hurry to keep up. "You've met my cousin Albus, right?" she asked, by way of introduction.

"Mm." Scorpius nodded awkwardly to Albus, who nodded back. Rose didn't think that was a very good start. She was sure her mother would insist that they at least try to get along, especially as they were going to be sleeping in the same room for the next seven years. They continued to the Great Hall in awkward silence, until Rose spotted two familiar, tall, blonde girls up ahead. "Vic, Dom!" she called. The girls turned back, and Rose grinned at Scorpius.

"Guys, this is Scorpius," she said eagerly when the girls had reached them. "Scorp, my cousins Victoire and Dominique."

Scorpius seemed a bit taken aback, but he recovered quickly "Je suis très heureux de faire votre connaissance," he said to Victoire, who let out a little sigh of delight and began chattering to him in French. Rose grinned triumphantly at Albus, who gave her a confused look.

"Let's go eat lunch," she said to him, and led him into the Great Hall.

"Why are you talking to Malfoy?" he asked her before they had even sat down.

She rolled her eyes. "Why shouldn't I talk to him?"

Albus made a face. "Well, it's not that I mind, but won't your dad go spare?"

Rose thought about this. "Quite possibly," she decided. "But Mum would shut him up. Anyway we can't just ignore him completely, he's in our house. In your dormitory," she added.

"Yeah," Albus agreed, but he sounded worried. "His family are Death Eaters, though."

"Were Death Eaters," Rose corrected. "And he seems nice, so far. I think he's a bit lost. I mean, it's all right for us having our whole family, and the Longbottoms, and the Lovegoods, and everyone. Imagine coming here from another country and leaving all your friends behind, and not knowing anyone."

At this point, Scorpius entered the Great Hall, and Rose waved him over. Scorpius sat down as though expecting a whoopee cushion to go off.

"Your cousins are nice," he said, in response to her questioning look.

"I knew you'd like them," Rose said proudly.

"Their mother's family lives quite close to mine, actually," Scorpius said thoughtfully. "But I've never met them. Probably they're not what my father considers the 'right sort of people'."

Albus turned to stare at him indignantly. "And what are the 'right kind of people, then?" he snapped.

"Search me," Scorpius sighed. "Hardly anyone as far as I can tell." He looked up at Rose. "You... you called me Scorp, before."

"Did I?" Rose felt a bit silly. "Sorry - people in my family shorten people's names all the time. I guess its automatic. Do you mind?"

Scorpius, to her surprise, looked pleased. "Not really," he said. "Just no one's ever given me a nickname before."

-*~A~*-

By the time Charms came around, Albus had almost resigned himself to the fact that Rose wasn't going to give up on Scorpius Malfoy. She had chatted with him, amiably, all through lunch, mostly about lessons. The boy was alternately shy, then sarcastic, mostly just answering her questions rather than venturing those of his own, always in his slightly accented, highly educated voice. Albus thought he was a bit weird.

He was distracted, however, by James, Roxie and Fred, who cornered him just as they were finishing lunch. "So," James said, a bit awkwardly. "Ravenclaw, eh?"

"Yup," Albus said, watching the twins warily. He thought Roxie looked a bit sad, but Fred had his interminable cheeky smile on, as usual.

"Shame. Would have been cool to be in the same house."

Albus stared at him. "You never thought that. You kept saying I'd be in Slytherin."

James shrugged. "Was only teasing."

"I know, but still."

James was looking over at where Rose and Scorpius were waiting for Albus. "Isn't that the Malfoy kid?" he asked, from the advanced age of twelve.

"Yeah."

"That sucks."

Albus shrugged. "Not so far. He's all right." In a weird, shifty way, he added to himself.

"Now now Alby," Fred chuckled. "Don't go sullying the Potter name by befriending a Malfoy."

Roxie rolled her eyes. "Let him alone, Fred. He can be friends with who he wants. Anyway he can hardly be bitter enemies when they have to share a dormitory."

"Oh yeah, I can just see his dad dropping him off at our house for dinner," James laughed.

Albus went red. "Shut up," he mumbled. "We're not even friends, just talking about school stuff. And he won't come to our house anyway, he lives in France."

He escaped the Gryffindor trio and joined Rose and Scorpius on the way to Charms.

"Who was that?" Scorpius asked, surprising them both by asking a question.

"My brother and our cousins, Fred and Roxanne," Albus explained.

Scorpius raised an imperious eyebrow. "They don't look like your cousins."

"So? Their mum has dark skin. Fred turned his hair red once, but it didn't suit him at all."

Rose giggled. To Albus' surprise, so did Scorpius. "How many cousins do you have?" he asked.

Albus grimaced. "Er... nine. First cousins, anyway. Ten if you count Teddy, he's sort of our adopted cousin. And five uncles and four aunts."

Scorpius' eyes widened. "How do you all fit?"

"We don't, usually. We only see each other all together at Christmas, and even then not everyone all at the same time. It gets a bit crowded."

Charms was much like Transfiguration had been, except that there was a desk with three seats in it which Rose pounced on immediately, so they all sat together. They had Charms with the Gryffindors, none of whom Albus or Rose were particularly familiar with. A few of them muttered ominously while glancing in their direction. Albus distinctly heard one of them say "Potter", before he was shushed by the others. He was used to people staring at him, and talking about him. It was one of the disadvantages of having a famous father. He didn't mind too much, it was just part of his life he had to put up with. Albus was proud of his father, who was seen as a hero by a lot of people.

A lot of people were also staring at Malfoy, and that a bit more openly. The boy was noticeably uncomfortable, and kept twitching every time he caught someone at it, while Professor Flitwick chattered excitedly about Charms.

To Albus' disappointment, there was no practical portion to their first Charms lesson. He had quite enjoyed Transfiguration, mainly since it hadn't been nearly as difficult as he had expected. Perhaps he wouldn't be quite as much of a failure in Ravenclaw as he thought, after all. He listened carefully to the lecture and even took some notes, until he forgot to notice the people staring or muttering.

After class, he started talking excitedly to Rose as they left the classroom, chatting about how long it would be before they got to make things fly. They went quite a long way before they realised Scorpius was no longer with them. "Should we go back for him?" Rose wondered aloud. "Maybe he got lost."

Albus snorted. "Maybe he just wanted some time alone," he suggested, mentally adding away from you. His cousin could be overwhelming when she wanted to be. Then he thought he heard a noise, like something glass smashing against stone. "Did you hear that?" he asked. Everyone else had by now gone past them, heading for their common rooms.

"Mm hm."

"Oh, come on then," Albus sighed. He and Rose walked back down the corridor the way they had come. A couple of turnings later they found Scorpius. He was standing against a wall, faced by three much taller boys. They were all Gryffindors. "-back to your Death Eater dad," one of them was saying. "Surprised you've got the nerve to come here."

"That was my only inkwell," Scorpius said in a small voice.

"Aw, pity." The tallest boy, who seemed to be the ringleader, was holding Scorpius schoolbag. It was leather, a good make but quite old, Albus thought. He pulled out the Charms textbook and looked at it. "How old's this book, Malfoy? First edition, or something?"

Scorpius mumbled something that sounded like "...was my mum's." The boys laughed and the tallest one chucked the book into the pool of ink and glass beside him.

Albus had had enough. He took a step forward, and had to hurry to keep up with his cousin, whose face was already Weasley-red. "Give that back!" Rose demanded. The boys all looked surprised.

"Sorry Malfoy," tittered one of them. "Didn't realise you had backup."

"Give it back to him," Albus echoed. He glared up at the tallest boy, who was about twice his own height. The tallest boy looked like he might like to argue, but then one of the other Gryffindors leaned over to mutter something urgently in his ear. The leader's eyes widened in surprise. "You a Potter?"

"Yeah, so?"

"James' kid brother?"

Albus felt like heading the boy in the nadgers, but restrained himself. He knew that was his Gryffindor heritage thinking, and there was enough of that sort of stupidness happening already. "I'm his brother, yeah."

"Well..." the boy looked worried, and puzzled. "What are doing sticking up for him?" he jerked a thumb at Scorpius, who couldn't seem to decide whether to glare at his shoes or stare at Albus and Rose. "He's a Malfoy."

"So?"

"His dad was a Death Eater!"

"So? I bet lots of people's dads or mums were Death Eaters."

"But his dad like... tried to kill your dad!"

Albus decided not to argue the technical inaccuracies of this suggestion. "That's their business. Its certainly not any of yours. So you can just leave off and go pick on someone your own size. And actually, I'm glad I'm not in Gryffindor now, if they're all great big bullies like you." This was perhaps not the most impressive speech ever, but it was about the best an eleven-year-old could manage. He was quite proud of it.

The boy shrugged, as though he had planned this all along, and handed the bag back to Scorpius. "Grown up for a first year, aren't you? Better think about where your priorities lie, Potter," he said, and let the others usher him away.

Rose was staring at him with her mouth open. "That was aces!" she announced with astonishment.

"Gits. We should tell Neville on them."

Scorpius was still standing pressed up against the wall, clutching his ancient bag to his chest as though it were a life support. "What did you do that for?" he asked sharply.

Albus rolled his eyes. "Geez, sorry Malfoy. Next time we'll let them mess up all your stuff."

"Are you okay?" Rose asked. Malfoy turned on her as though to deliver a scathing retort, but Albus saw it die in his mouth. No one could resist her mothering voice. She got it from Gran. It made you want to give her a cuddle and tell her all your worries.

"They broke my inkwell," Scorpius said instead, swiping quickly at his eyes.

"Well, you can borrow mine," said Rose kindly.

Scorpius blinked at her. "Really?"

"Course you can. Or you can sit with Albus and borrow his, because one of us will probably take turns sitting with Lizzie. Right Albus?"

Albus nodded vaguely, though this seemed like a lot of organisation. It was probably best to head it off before she decided who they were going to sit next to during meals.

"But... but..." Scorpius looked at her helplessly. "He was right. My dad did try to kill your dads... both of yours. I'm not an idiot. He hates your family. And you want to be... to be..."

"Friends?" Rose suggested.

Scorpius gaped at her. "I can't be friends with a Potter!" he squeaked. "And especially not a Weasley! My dad will... he'll..." he grimaced. "I don't even know what he'd do."

"Well," Albus said sensibly. "He doesn't have to know about it. Anyway it'd be dumb to be enemies, wouldn't it? What'd that solve? Nothing, it seems to me."

Scorpius turned to stare at him, instead. "You are grown up for a first year," he said out loud. Then, without waiting for an answer, he continued. "It might work. My parents hardly ever talk to anyone from England, except my Grandparents, and I don't see how they could find out about it." He smiled faintly. "I sort of like the idea of doing something they don't know about."

"Right then," said Rose, as if the matter was settled. "Lets go back to the Common room and change for dinner. These new robes are really itchy."

-*~S~*-

And the matter did seemed to be settled. Looking back on it a few weeks later, Scorpius wondered how everything had happened so quickly. He hadn't expected to make any friends at Hogwarts at all, let alone the offspring of arguably his father's two - possibly four - least favourite people. But he liked Rose and Albus. They were nice. They reminded him of some of his friends back in France, except that they weren't scared of him, or playing with him because their parents wanted them to. They didn't ask uncomfortable questions. No one seemed to mind that all his books and equipment were second hand (family heirlooms, was his father's argument, and no one, unsurprisingly had taken him up on it).

He supposed they must know about his grandfather going to prison all those years ago, and the fees and the inquiry, and all the raids and damages paid, and how that had left them with nothing except the old manor house which his grandfather refused to sell. His own parents mainly lived off his mother's dowry, which had long since run out, and his mother had to convince his father to sell another 'family heirloom' every time things got desperate. Neither of them ever seemed to consider getting a proper job. He supposed it was one of those things that his father would say was Not Done'. It seemed to Scorpius that there were a lot of things that were Not Done, and yet somehow they still got done, by someone.

But no one asked about any of that, which saved him having to explain. And they didn't mind having to share their ink or books either. Albus would occasionally make a dark and disapproving face whenever Scorpius unpacked his bag at the end of the day to reveal yet another ruined book or quill, because even little Albus Potter, son of the famous hero, couldn't stop everyone from hating him. Scorpius started to make more of an effort to hide the damage, but he couldn't help having to read off other people's books, or borrow quills, just to get his homework done.

Scorpius hadn't wanted to go to Hogwarts. His father hadn't wanted him to go either, one of the few times father and son had actually agreed on something, albeit for different reasons. And it was one of the few times his mother had got his way in an argument.

"Absolutely NOT!" he remembered his father yelling the night his letter had come. He had hid behind the bannister at the top of the stairs and listened. "I am not sending my son to that - that place! Did you know LONGBOTTOM is a teacher there now? Well I say teacher -"

"What is the alternative, darling?" his mother answered. She said 'darling' in a hard sort of voice she rarely used. "Durmstrang? You know I couldn't bear to send him so far away. And you know Beauxbatons is out of the question."

His father growled. Scorpius wondered why it was out of the question. All his friends were going to Beauxbatons. He didn't have many friends, perhaps two or three who he really liked. They were sons and daughters of old wizarding families, though not nearly as crazy as his own, he thought. They lived in normal houses like Muggles lived in, and used electricity and computers and the postal service. Not that his parents knew anything about that of course. Whenever the Malfoys visited the electricity was all turned off, and the computers hidden away in cupboards. His parents arranged the meetings mainly to keep their son well-educated in the wider wizarding community. Sometimes they went into Wizarding Paris, though of course they hardly ever bought anything. Scorpius Malfoy had always known he was a wizard. He had been about five or six when he had found out that he was the sort of wizard that most other wizards despised.

It had been a long argument, but his mother had eventually won out. Durmstrang, no matter how extensive their Dark Arts program was, was simply too far away. Half the classes weren't even in English. It was Hogwarts or a minor wizarding school, and even Scorpius knew that his father would rather die than admit that he couldn't afford to send his son to a real wizarding school. He couldn't, but they had made him study for two years in Charms, Transfiguration and Potions in order to get a scholarship. He didn't tell Rose or Albus any of this. He liked them, but he wasn't totally sure he could trust them yet. He didn't want his Gryffindor tormentors finding out.

It wasn't just Gryffindor, either, he was realising. Slytherins didn't think much of him either, though their reasons were a bit more complex, perhaps. The Ravenclaws, by merit of his being one of them but also perhaps because they were too intelligent or too busy to concern themselves with hand-me-down grudges, mostly ignored him. He wasn't really sure what the Hufflepuffs thought, though through Albus and Rose he was becoming friends with their friend Lizzie Longbottom and her housemate Belinda Ascott. Belinda was the first real Muggleborn he had ever properly met. He didn't think there was any difference between her and anyone else. He kept his father's rants about Muggleborns to himself, just in case, however.

Being friends with Lizzie was a good thing, because his least favourite and definitely worst subject was quickly becoming Herbology. "This is stupid," he sighed one afternoon in October, poking his flutterby bush with his wand. "Its not doing anything."

"That's because you're just jabbing it, silly," said Lizzie patiently, putting her hand over his and showing him the wand movement. "Now ask it nicely."

He blinked at her. "But its just a plant."

"Plants are people too, I always say," said Professor Longbottom as he was passing. Scorpius was a bit wary of Professor Longbottom. He was one of those people his dad really didn't like, even if he seemed perfectly nice most of the time. But he was Lizzie's dad, and Albus' Godfather, so he couldn't be that bad.

"But they aren't, though," he said quietly, shrinking back in his seat.

"Pretend then," said Professor Longbottom. "You've got an imagination, don't you, Mister Malfoy?"

Scorpius was quite good at pretending. When he was little he had played pretend games with his friends. Robin Hood, Peter Pan, King Arthur all featured prominently, once his friends had told him the stories or secretly leant him books. He liked being the hero. He tried pretending the bush was a person. Please bloom? he thought at it. For a minute nothing happened, then, reluctantly, the bush put forth one tiny bloom, fluttering weakly. He sighed.

"You can't be good at everything," said Rose. She and Lizzie's bushes were covered in delicately fluttering blossoms.

"We're Ravenclaws," Albus pointed out. To Scorpius' solace, his bush was also mostly devoid of blossom. "Aren't we meant to be good at everything?"

Albus and Rose got letters from their parents quite often. Scorpius did not. Everyone was too polite ever to mention this, however. He wondered if they ever wrote home about him. He doubted it. From what he understood, Rose's dad especially felt about the same way about his dad than his dad felt about him.

"Mum says Teddy's got a job," Albus announced from where he was reading on the sofa in the Common Room.

"What is it?" Rose asked.

"Something in the Ministry, she says. Spywork, probably."

"Al!"

"Well, it probably is. Andromeda talked him out of being an Auror, I guess, but he's always wanted to be a spy. He's suited to it. Metamorphmagus," he added to Scorpius by way of explanation.

Scorpius thought about this for a moment. "That rings a bell, for some reason," he said thoughtfully. "That's people who can change themselves to look like other people, right?"

"Yup," Albus nodded. "He inherited it from his mum."

"Is his mum someone called Nymphadora?"

Rose laughed. "Yeah, but everyone calls her Tonks. Anyway she died a long time ago, before we were even born. Why?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Dunno. Heard my father talking - well, yelling - about her, I think. Guess we're related, in some way."

Albus frowned. "I guess you are, if it comes to that," he thought. "Tonks was a Black before she got married - oh right," he said, snapping his fingers. "That's it, Teddy's gran is your grandmother's sister, Andromeda Black."

"Oh, her I know about," Scorpius said. Forget his father, try getting his grandmother to shut up about her estranged sister once she got started. And now he thought about it, he seemed to recall her mentioned some sort of halfbreed mutant boy who was bringing shame on the family lineage, or something. He changed the subject before he could accidentally say anything like that.

He hated the way his father's speeches seemed to bleed into his mind. But he did them so often that Scorpius knew some of them by heart. Pureblood wizards were tops. Mudbloods and Halfbloods weren't worth a second thought. The Ministry was a foolish establishment with no decent government, which was why there was no one properly qualified running the country. But what Scorpius saw was that being a Pureblood of the kind his father thought he was really meant going around forcing people to believe what you believed in, and killing them if they didn't like it. This seemed stupid to Scorpius, and thinking this made him feel guilty. He didn't much like his father, but he was still his father, after all. On the other hand, he had to be careful that the poisonous words he had heard so often did not ever come to his lips, even as a joke. At Hogwarts, among these strange new people, that was the sort of thing that was Not Done.

-*~A~*-

One afternoon in late November, Albus came into the boys dormitory to find Scorpius sitting on his bed, holding something that belonged to Albus. Scorpius quickly pulled the white cords out of his ears, looking guilty. "Sorry," he said quickly.

"It's okay," Albus shrugged, "you can listen to it if you want." Then, unable to stop himself, he added, "I'm surprised you know how to work it." Scorpius, like uncle Ron and Grandpa Arthur, often seemed to consider Muggle things about as alien as if they really had come from another planet.

"Oh, Raoul had one," Scorpius explained. Albus vaguely remembered him mentioned Raoul as one of his friends from France. "Yours is different, though. Very different. I like this music." He showed Albus the iPod screen. Albus grinned.

"Johnny Cash? He's ancient."

"It's your music."

"Yeah well, James set it up. He's weird like that about some music."

"I like it."

"Suit yourself."

"How'd you get this thing to work, anyway? I thought Muggle stuff went all weird around magic."

"Er." Albus looked guilty. "Its modified... a bit. Don't tell anyone though, that sort of thing's still a bit murky, legally. Mum fixed it so it won't run out of battery and put a solidifying charm on it. The rest of it's all Apple magic, though."

"Apple magic?" Scorpius was looking at him as if he'd gone totally mad.

"Take too long to explain."

Scorpius was turning the device over in his hands. It was an old one, at least four new models had come out since he'd got it, but while it still worked Albus didn't see much point in getting another. He didn't even use it that often. "You want it?" he asked. He wasn't sure why he said it. Perhaps it was the look of wonder and longing on Scorpius' face.

"What? No!" Scorpius exclaimed, putting the thing down quickly on the bedside table. He was flushing red in embarrassment.

"You can if you -"

"No!"

Albus stared. He'd never seen Scorpius so emphatic about anything before. "Because your dad might find it?" he asked, insightfully.

"No, because… you can't just give me things!" the boy replied, looking as if he might cry. "I don't need your pity."

Albus blinked. "I just thought you might like it. But it's okay. You can still listen to it if you want."

He told Rose about this confusing incident later, and she nodded sagely. "Well of course he wouldn't just take it from you," she said in an infuriatingly knowing tone of voice. "He's proud. It's like how Dad gets sometimes when people try to give him free stuff. You must have noticed."

"Well I know his family lost their fortune in the war," Albus said. "But its not like they're destitute, or anything, is it? I mean he had magic tutors, and things."

"Has he ever told you that straight out? No, I think his parents home-schooled him. He hates having to borrow our books and things, too, you know, but he doesn't have much choice when all he's got is his mum's old school stuff. And have you seen him eat? Like there's a famine on the way."

"Oh come on," said Albus, disbelieving. "Are you telling me his family don't even have money for food?"

"I'm not telling you anything," Rose shrugged, picking up her quill to start her Potions essay. "Just what I've seen."

Scorpius had to stay at Hogwarts that Christmas, and he didn't seem surprised. "We don't really do Christmas at my house anyway," he said. "I'd probably just be in the way." Guiltily, Albus wondered if it was because he would be one less mouth to feed.

Their first night at home, everyone went to the Burrow to catch up over dinner. Albus' mum kept hugging him randomly, and Lily, Louis and Hugo wouldn't stop asking questions about Hogwarts. He and Rose did their best to answer them. James, Fred and Roxanne spent a lot of time chuckling and muttering to each other. Albus hoped they hadn't done anything to the dinner. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed his Gran's cooking.

The topic of Scorpius had to come up eventually, of course. "Neville tells me you've been spending a bit of time with the Malfoy boy," Ginny said, about halfway through the main course.

"What?" Rose's dad became instantly alert. "He never said anything to me."

"Of course he didn't, Ron," said Aunt Hermione, giving him that look that suggested she was resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him. "He knows what you're like."

"Neville says he's a bit shy," Ginny continued. "I'm glad they're all trying to get along."

James snorted into his dinner. "Get along?" he snickered. "The three of them are together all the time. They follow each other around, like little ducklings."

Albus felt his face heat. "Well someone has to," he snapped at his brother. "To protect him from stupid Gryffindors who think its fun to tear up his books and call him names."

"What?" James looked taken-aback. "I never-"

"Oh I know you never. Just leave off Scorp. He's all right."

"I like him," said Dominique, to everyone's surprise. "He speaks fluent French, Mama, and he's always really polite, unlike some people I could mention."

Albus glanced up at his Dad. The expression on his face was one of those unreadable ones that could go either way.

"You kids just watch yourselves around the Malfoys," Ron said, carefully avoiding his wife's gaze. "Shy or not, you never know what they're going to do, but its usually something horrible."

"Oh Dad," Rose sighed. "Scorp doesn't have a horrible bone in his body." She turned to Albus. "What are you getting him for Christmas?" she asked.

Albus grinned. "Actually I do have a sort of an idea," he said.

The next week, his and Rose's family went Christmas shopping. Half the day was spent in Diagon Alley, the other in Muggle London. Albus took Rose to a discount store where they spent some pocket money each to buy a last-generation iPod. Once they got it back to Albus' house, they took it out of the packaging and synched it up to the family computer. Then, as an afterthought, they went online and found some new music that they thought Scorpius might like, and downloaded until they had gone quite over-budget. They owled it to Hogwarts with a note attached saying, "Happy Christmas - don't eat it all at once!" Albus thought this was hilarious.

-*~R~*-

Rose supposed Scorpius must have liked the gift, because the hug he gave her on their return to Hogwarts could have rivaled one of her Gran's best. She hardly had enough time to be surprised. She hadn't thought Scorpius was the hugging sort. Perhaps he wasn't, but was just now making an exception. "No one's ever given me a present like that before!" he said, banging Albus on the shoulder. Rose supposed this was the boy version of a hug. "Did you get the sweets I sent? I got them off the House Elves." Albus, who had inherited the knowledge from his father, had passed on the secret of the location of the kitchens before they had left.

"We got them," Rose said, grinning. Scorpius, who had met them where they disembarked from the horseless carriages at the school gates, walked with them through the grounds. "Did you have a nice holiday?"

"It was great!" said Scorpius with real enthusiasm. "Christmas dinner was amazing, and there were decorations and the suits of armor sang Christmas carols and I did all my homework and Madam Hooch let me practice flying with some of the third years. Bit lonely though," he added, smiling at them. "Glad you're back."

Rose smiled. She remembered how the boy had been the first day she had met him: quiet, a bit sarcastic, and wary of anything anyone said or did in case they were secretly making fun of him. Now he was almost normal, she congratulated herself inwardly. "How were yours?" he was asking now.

"Oh, the usual," Albus said. "Christmas dinner at Gran's, Quidditch in the garden, lots of kissing and so on." He made a face, and Scorpius laughed. His cheeks were flushed red against his pale skin as they walked through the snow up to the castle.

"You need some sun," Rose told him, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. "You're as pale as the grey lady."

"Thanks," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

"Like Jack Frost," Albus joined in. "There's icicles in your hair."

Scorpius scooped up a handful of snow and lobbed it at him, and things descended quite rapidly from there.

-*~S~*-

The first time Scorpius ever saw Harry Potter was at the memorial service that year. The service was held annually at dawn on the second of May, and consisted of a slow walk through the grounds towards the stone memorial that stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Scorpius had seen it plenty of times, but never looked really closely, or thought about what it meant. All the students attended, even those who were studying for NEWTs or OWLs. And lots of people came from all over the country, including the Minister for Magic, and - Scorpius felt he should have expected this - Albus and Rose's parents. Their adopted cousin Teddy also came, and walked at the head of the parade with Rose's father and Albus' mother. Albus explained that walking at the head of the parade was anyone who had lost immediate family in the big battle. "My Uncle Fred," he explained at Scorpius' question. "And both Teddy's parents died."

Scorpius didn't ask anything else.

He felt sick, standing there in the darkness as they watched the candles being carried by the families of the dead being placed all around the memorial. Perhaps it was only that he hadn't had anything to eat yet.

"Today," said Headmistress McGonagall, her ancient reedy voice carrying over the crowd in the still morning air. "We celebrate not only the lives of those who died here, nineteen years ago, but remember those who perished all over England during the year of terror. We remember those who fought bravely to free us from tyranny. Who gave their lives in order that we might live. Who stood for light against the darkness. We will remember them."

"We will remember them," the crowd intoned softly. The sun began to appear on the horizon as people came forward to leave flowers, or little letters or packages around the memorial. He saw Albus' mother put a handful of what appeared to be brightly-coloured stones on the sandy-grey surface. Albus cousin Teddy - his own cousin, he reminded himself - left an envelope and a small rock to weigh it down. Mr Potter put a hand on his shoulder. Scorpius thought - they were only Victoire's age, some of the kids that died. And some of them had kids of their own. And they were fighting for Hogwarts to be what it is now - a safe place, where even someone like him could find friendship and happiness. And his own father had been on the other side.

Where are you, Father? he asked silently, watching the sunrise. You should be here, saying sorry for helping hurt these people. Because they ARE people. You think of them as less than human, because of who their ancestors are. Why should that matter? Why should any of your stupid rules matter? No wonder some of these people look at me the way they do. They think I think like you. Well, just wait. I'll show them. I'm going to be the worst Malfoy ever in the history of Malfoys.

"Scorp?" it was Rose.

"Yeah?"

"Er… you okay?"

Scorpius forced a smile onto his face. "Yeah. Breakfast?"

"Um… well. My parents and Hugo and the others are sort of coming inside to eat with us, sort of thing."

"Oh." He felt something squirm in the bottom of his stomach. Hunger, he told himself.

"You can eat with us, if you like." She seemed to think this a perfectly sensible suggestion, but over her shoulder he could see her Dad - the tall, scary redheaded man - give him a look that suggested that if Scorpius didn't run along, he might just get eaten himself.

"No thanks," he said. "I think I'll sit with Lizzie and her mum." Mrs Longbottom had introduced herself quite politely to him earlier, and he quite liked the plump blonde lady. "Is that okay?"

"Course its okay," she said, smiling back at him. The smile was a bit sad, and so was the one he gave her in return. One day, he thought determinedly. One day we'll be able to sit together and no one will care. No one will say a word. Because I'll prove to them that I'm not going to be like every other Malfoy.

-*~R~*-

Rose studied hard for her exams. Despite her father's objection that first-year tests put far too much pressure on the students, and were never actually as difficult as the teachers made out they were going to be, she was determined not to disappoint her mother by not coming top in everything. Her mother would never say she was disappointed, of course, but she would be, all the same.

Rose needn't have worried. She passed everything with flying colours, and so did the two boys. They were after all, Ravenclaws, despite some occasional behavior which would have made most people think otherwise. They both liked to read almost as much as she did, and the three of them spent many enjoyable evenings just reading together in the common room. Scorpius worked hard to stay on top of things, and Albus seemed to have inherited his paternal grandfather's knack for just picking things up as he went along. No one was more surprised at this than Albus himself when he came equal first with Rose in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. Scorpius aced Astronomy and Potions, and, with Lizzie's gentle tutelage, passed Herbology.

By the time summer came around, Rose was looking forward to going home, but her mood was dampened slightly by Scorpius' obvious reluctance. He fretted about how he was going to do his homework with only half his books, until Rose offered to lend him hers. "I can borrow Albus'," she pointed out. "Or I bet my mum's got some old copies lying around somewhere. She never gets rid of books." He looked like he might argue, but she changed the subject before he could say anything.

Then, on the morning of their departure, he handed her his beloved iPod. "You better take this," he told her with a sigh. "I'm dead if Father catches me with it."

"Oh." She looked at him sadly. "Okay." Scorpius loved his iPod. He never went anywhere without it. He listened to it in bed, while studying, while eating and - Rose was shocked to learn - he had even learned the trick of hiding the earphone cord up his sleeve so he could listen to it in class while appearing as if he was merely leaning on his hand. She had done her best to put a stop to this but she suspected he still did it when she wasn't looking.

"We'll put some new music on it," Albus said, attempting to lighten the mood as they boarded the train back to King's Cross.

Scorpius' face lit up. "Oh yeah! Please. You know what stuff I like."

"I know what stuff you sing in the shower," said Albus.

Scorpius flushed. "I do not!"

"Do too. And in your sleep, sometimes."

Scorpius looked mortified, and Rose burst out laughing.

Their parents were waiting for them when they got off the train at King's Cross. "Bye," Scorpius said quickly.

"See you next year," said Albus, and Rose nodded, not knowing what else to say. It seemed unfair that she and Albus were going home to a summer of fun, playing Quidditch, spending time with their family, visiting Uncle George's shop, and Scorpius had to spend his summer cooped up alone in a house with his parents. Rose had decided that her father had been partially right, at least. Draco Malfoy was not a nice person. Quite possibly he was a horrible person, maybe even an evil person. She couldn't help thinking that Scorpius didn't deserve to put up with that sort of thing.

Scorpius hurried off, and Rose caught a glimpse of his parents through the crowd. Mrs Malfoy quickly hugged her son. Mr Malfoy said nothing but put a hand on Scorpius' shoulder and led him away. Rose felt the iPod in her pocket like a lead weight, and closed her hand around it. He would be okay, she told herself. It was only a few months, after all

Chapter Text

Raindrops on Roses

Second Year Part 1

2018-2019

-*~S~*-

Scorpius wondered how so much could change in a year. He had never felt any particularly strong attachment to his family's house, but it had always been home, before. Now, as he sat in his bedroom staring gloomily out of the window, he realized he was feeling homesick for another home altogether. Hogwarts. He liked school. He missed his friends. There were things he didn't miss, like Herbology, and people stopping him in the corridors to mess with him, but these things seemed less important than ever. He flicked the pages of the book in his lap. It was Rose's Transfiguration textbook. It was noticeably much newer than his own books. He had an excuse lined up, however, in case either of his parents noticed. His own book had got damaged in a Potions accident, and he had borrowed this one from a friend for the holidays. Should they ask which friend, he would call on one of the other Ravenclaw boys, Gaius or Peter, or perhaps one of the Slytherins. As long as they didn't check the nameplate in the front, which bore Rose's name in her neat, curly handwriting, it'd be okay.

He put the book away and felt absent-mindedly for the bundle in his pocket. It was a letter he had written to Rose, Albus and Lizzie. It had been sitting folded up in his pocket for days. He was starting to think he was never going to get the chance to post it. Using the family's owl was out of the question, of course. He was waiting to be invited to a friend's house so that he could use their owls, but it seemed that his former friends were not that interested. They had all made new friends at Beauxbatons.

The only other option was Muggle post. There were multiple problems with this, however. Getting out of the house, for one. Finding a post office, for another. And perhaps the most serious problem, passing for a Muggle. He had no idea how any of it worked. He understood that a person would take his letter and somehow get it to Albus' house, but how they were going to cross the ocean without Floo or a broomstick was beyond him. And how could one man carry all the post that was going to England? Was there a team of them? And he would have to pay, which meant using Muggle money, which he didn't have. If it came to it, he didn't have any Wizarding money, either. He'd have to wait until September first, he supposed.

The next day, however, he got a surprise. He woke up to a snowy owl tapping softly on his bedroom window. He tore off his covers and hurried over, lifting the window and letting the owl inside. It held out a leg for him, and tied to it was a thick envelope. He untied it quickly and tore it open. The owl pecked at his hand. "Oh, okay," he said, reluctantly putting the letter down. "Hang on a second." He went to the door and opened it very quietly. It was early and his parents were, luckily, still asleep. He padded down the hall and down the stairs to the corner in the kitchen where Gergoire the owl lived. Scorpius put a hand into the box by his cage and drew out some owl treats. Gergoire hooted at him, and Scorpius shushed him before going back up the stairs as silently as he could. He gave the treats to the owl and opened his letter.

Hi Scorp, it read.

Hope you're having a good summer. We're having an okay time here. Yesterday we went to the Burrow and played Quidditch. Teddy was there and he told us a bit about his top-secret work with the Ministry (not so secret now, harhar). Also Hagrid came over last week and told us stories while he ate a whole week's worth of food! You'd think they didn't feed him up at the castle.

Lily is being annoying as usual, she keeps moaning that she still has to wait another year before she can start school. I offered to let her do my Potions essay. May need your help on that, by the way. I'd ask Rose but she would gloat.

Anyway see you on September 1st.

-A.

Ps. this is Womy, our owl. James named him when he was about five. You can use him to write back if you want.

Scorpius grinned and put the letter down. There was another sheet inside the envelope, and this one had Rose's handwriting.

Dear Scorpius

We thought it might be easier for you if we just sent one owl with both our letters. I hope you're okay and not spending all your time inside. Have you done all your homework? I got through mine pretty quickly. I've been reading some of mum's old second year books, and we're going to Diagon Alley soon to get all our school stuff.

Dad is trying to convince me to try out for Quidditch. I don't know. I like playing, but I think the pressure to win might be too high! Though since we're only second years we would probably only be reserves. Albus is thinking of trying out too. Will you? It might be fun to go together even if we don't get in.

Albus and I found some music we think you'll like, some showtunes and some more of that guitarist you like, Greigson. We promise to give you your iPod back as long as you don't spend the first week ignoring us while you listen to it.

See you on the train, hope you're well.

Rose.

Next to her name she had drawn a little sketch of a rose. Scorpius smiled. He folded both letters and put them in his pocket, swapping them for his own letter. They would be safe there, he thought. His mother sometimes searched his room for contraband like sweets and Muggle toys, ever since she had caught him playing with a light-up car leant to him by his friend Raoul. "You're lucky I found this," she had said to him, waving it in front of his face. "Your father would thrash you properly." As it was, she had slapped the back of his hand and taken the toy away. He didn't dare say where he had got it unless his mother forbid him from seeing Raoul anymore. But he didn't think she would search his clothes while he was wearing them.

He scribbled a quick PS on the letter before he tied it to the white owl's neck and stroked it gently. "You can stay for a bit," he told it, thinking it had probably been a long flight across the channel. "Just don't let my mum or dad catch you." Womy hooted at him, rubbed his beak against his fingers, and fluttered off out of the window. Scorpius sighed. It might have been nice to have some company for a bit.

-*~A~*-

Womy arrived in the kitchen the same morning as everyone's Hogwarts letters, which meant that Albus could open the letter and read it in relative peace while James moaned about all the extra books for his elective subjects, and Lily tried to read the booklist over his shoulder, and his parents Floo'd Aunt Hermione to confirm their trip to Diagon Alley that afternoon.

Dear Al, Rose and Lizzie

Hi guys, hope you're having fun summers. I am mostly bored! Done all my homework, read every book in the house, too! Considering sneaking out to a bookshop!

Not much else to tell except that Mother has got a 'job' keeping accounts for the Apothecary in the village. Papa was Not Pleased but even he has to admit that we could use the money. Mother is out a lot so I do not even have anyone to talk to. I tried to suggest that I could get a summer job too but Papa was in one of his Moods so I gave up. Maybe next year.

Papa was quite pleased with my exam results at least. (Luckily he doesn't care about Herbology! If he did care he would probably blame it on Professor Longbottom anyway - Lizzie I will not repeat some of the stuff he says about your Father teaching!) He is pleased that I am doing well in Potions because that was always his favourite subject but he wants me to do better in Charms, also Defence Against the Dark Arts. He asked if we had done any duelling yet and I said no but I told him what Professor Tufty said about first years handling fire power and he just gave me a Look.

Anyway enough about exams and about my father. Really looking forward to next year!

from Scorpius.

PS. thanks for your letters and letting me use your family's owl, Al please thank your mum and dad for me. Glad you're all having fun playing Quidditch! Rose I will think about the team but I only really started flying properly at Christmas! I will probably be terrible. -S.

"Is that from Scorpius?" Albus mother asked, leaning over to put some more bacon onto his plate whether he liked it or not.

"Yeah," Albus said, doing a quick re-read in case he had missed anything. "He says thanks for letting him use Womy."

"That's nice of him," said Ginny, casting a quick glance at Harry. Harry had not voiced much of an opinion over the friendship so far. He was a follower of the parenting strategy that let children make their own mistakes.

"I suppose his parents don't know that he's writing to you," he said now.

"Er… no," Albus admitted.

His parents exchanged another glance. "Secret letter writing," his father sighed. "Brings back some memories. You don't have to send him any food, do you?"

Albus blinked. "I don't think so," he said. "He says his mum's got a job so they've got a bit more money now."

"I was joking," Harry said, frowning. "Is it that bad? I didn't know."

"Well they're not going to come right out and tell everyone, are they?" Ginny pointed out. "Poor boy. I bet he can't wait to go back to school." She nudged Harry conspiratorially.

"All right, all right," he sighed. "I get it. I'll talk to Ron."

Albus began to understand, a little. They were talking about similarities between Harry and Scorpius. Both had grown up with very little, though for different reasons. Both had had to send letters in secret because of their family's disapproval. And both would rather be at Hogwarts than their childhood home.

"Can we stop at the Three Broomsticks for a bit on the way to Diagon Alley?" he asked his parents, waving the letter. "This is addressed to Lizzie as well."

"Of course we can, dear."

-*~R~*-

Rose felt very grown up, getting on the train as a second year. The first years all seemed so young, and uniformly terrified. It was strange to think that not so long ago she had been one of them.

She and Albus found a compartment with some other Ravenclaws, including Peter, Gaius and Janey from their year. They sat and chatted about their holidays until Scorpius finally showed up, his pale hair ruffled and face red from running.

"Nearly missed it!" he panted as the train began to leave the station. "Got stuck at customs. Next year I'm getting here a day early and grandmother can take me to the station."

Rose got up and gave him a hug while the others waved a greeting. "You made it, though," she reminded him.

"Oi Scorp, can I read your Potions essay?" Albus asked, grinning.

"Hello to you too," Scorpius replied, stowing his trunk.

They compared notes on homework and how much reading they had all done. Albus bought sweets from the trolley and shared them out, and Scorpius for once didn't even try to argue. He put a handful of fizzing whizzbees in his mouth and leaned back with a sigh of satisfaction. "I think I missed sweets more than anything else," he said. "And Hogwarts food."

"More than you missed us?" Rose exclaimed in mock-horror.

"Maybe. You might be on an even footing with sweets."

"Oh good," Albus said. "Just where I always wanted to be." The others laughed.

"Oh, did you hear?" Rose said, remembering suddenly. "Hannah's going to have another baby."

"Who's Hannah?" asked Scorpius, non-plussed.

"You know, Lizzie's mum."

Scorpius stared at her. "Well how was I meant to have heard that? When did you find out?"

"When we went to Diagon Alley to get our school things. We stopped at the pub - you know they live there?"

Scorpius nodded. It had come up once or twice, but it probably meant little to him as he had never actually been to Diagon Alley.

"Anyway they're really pleased. Neville's always wanted a big family, but I guess when they didn't get any more after Lizzie they thought that was going to be it.''

"Well that's great," Scorpius said, because that seemed like the sort of thing one ought to say.

-*~S~*-

By the end of the first week, they had so much homework that Scorpius wondered why had ever wanted to come back. Even the Ravenclaws grumbled a little, and the other houses made no secret of their distaste. They had Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins, and after their third class, Jian made the mistake of putting his hand up to complain.

"Professor Tufty," he said in his imperious 'listen to me I'm always right' voice. "Perhaps you've forgotten that you have already set an essay this week, and a research project."

"Nevertheless, Mr Chung," Tufty said, narrowing her eyes at him. "I expect five inches of parchment on the effects of the disarming charm by next week. If you find this unacceptable there is always an empty seat in my first year class."

"Should've kept his mouth shut," Scorpius muttered to the others that evening as they scribbled their essays in the common room. "You don't mess with Tufty if you know what's good for you."

"Jian doesn't know what's good for him," Albus pointed out. He had got through his first draft quickly and was re-writing carefully so as not to smudge his ink.

Rose peeked over at his work. 'you're finished!" she said accusingly.

Albus shrugged. "Expelliarmus is like, my dad's favourite spell," he explained. "I could probably write ten inches without cracking a single book. Five is nothing. Jian's just making noise, the big whinger."

Scorpius was to find out the extent of Jian's animosity towards Professor Tufty a few days later, however. One of the textbooks for second-year Defense Against the Dark Arts was new on the reading list, so of course he didn't have one. He had managed so far by reading over Albus' shoulder, until Tufty had caught him at it. To his surprise, she had held him back after class instead of embarrassing him in front of everyone.

"Why don't you have the textbook, Mr Malfoy?" was her question, when they were alone.

Scorpius schooled his expression. He hated admitting that he didn't have the money for anything. he got that from his father, he knew.

"Well?"

"Can't afford it, Professor," he said, low.

Professor Tufty sat back in her chair and regarded him with steeley grey eyes. She was a mature lady, perhaps his grandmother's age,but she wore her salt and pepper hair cropped short. Everyone knew she had been an Auror during the war, and he could believe it. It was the way she looked at you as if you were a minor inconvenience which could be destroyed quite easily. "You're on a scholarship, aren't you?" she asked, not unkindly.

"Yes, Professor."

"Are you aware that there is a subsidiary program for scholarship students who cannot buy their own books and equipment?"

Scorpius stared at her. 'No, Professor."

"It's a recent endeavour, but it would have been included in your scholarship paperwork. You should ask your parents to apply." She returned his stare quite calmly. "Yes?" she prompted as if reading his mind.

"Um... it's just that... well, I don't think they will, Professor. Father doesn't like to ask for help from anyone, especially..." he trailed off, not wanting to say the words 'people from Hogwarts'.

"I see," said Tufty, maintaining her blank expression. "Well, do your best to persuade him. It will be difficult for you otherwise, especially next year in your elective subjects."

"Father says I just have to make do," Scorpius replied, doing his best to keep the misery out of his voice. "And I do - I've been sharing with Rose and Albus," he explained.

"Well, in this instance at least I think there may be a solution," Tufty said, apparently not interested in his explanation. "I have a few spare copies of all the curriculum texts in my office. Come when you have some spare time and we'll see if we can't lend you one."

Scorpius nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Professor!"

"You are welcome. Please remember what I said about the subsidiary program."

"I will." Scorpius didn't think he was ever likely to forget. This whole time there had been a way for him to have his own schoolbooks, and his father had just ignored it for the sake of his pride?

His pride, maybe, he thought bitterly as he left the office and hurried to his next class. What about my pride? Does he think I like losing marks when my essays are twenty years out of date? Does he expect me to just do the same subjects as mother to save on books? No wonder he doesn't want to admit we're poor. It's not like he's ever done a day's work in his life.

He didn't get a chance to fetch the book until lunchtime the following day. He made his way to Tufty's office, hoping she would be there. The door was closed, and he knocked. There was a startled noise from inside, but no one answered.

"Professor?" Scorpius called. He wondered if maybe she had fallen over. She was quite old, after all, and sometimes in the winter she walked with a stick. A war wound, was the popular rumour. Thinking he would just check to see if she was all right, he pushed open the door. the room appeared to be empty at first glance, until he realised there were people trying to hide behind the desk. Pretty unsuccessfully.

"What's going on?" he asked suspiciously.

Four people got to their feet and glared at him. It was the second-year Slytherin boys. Jian took a step forward. "Run along, Malfoy," he commanded in his most imperious voice. "Keep your mouth shut and we'll forget you were ever here. Deal?"

"What are you doing?" Scorpius insisted, knowing he wouldn't like the answer.

One of the other Slytherins grinned meanly. "We're planting dungbombs in the old bird's office,"he explained.

"Shut up, Carcer," Jian snapped.

"Why?" asked Scorpius.

Jian sneered. It did not suit him at all. "Teach her to show me up in class."

Scorpius laughed shortly. "Ha. Well maybe if you didn't go around telling her how to run her lessons -"

Jian's olive-skinned face went dark with blood. He drew his wand. "Just go, okay?" he growled, his pre-adolescent voice cracking slightly.

Scorpius drew his own wand without even thinking and shouted "Expelliarmus!"

Jian's wand went flying, but Scorpius had forgotten that it was four against one. The other three didn't bother with their wands but grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him towards the opposite wall. He felt his ankle brush something that he realised later must have been a tripwire. His head hit the mantelpiece above the fireplace and he fell, momentarily dazed, as an acrid stench began to fill the air.

"Go! Go!" Jian yelled to the others, grabbing his wand from the floor as the four boys ran for it. the door slammed behind them.

Scorpius sat where he had fallen for a moment, holding his head. It felt dented, even if there didn't seem to be any blood. He tried not to breathe, but this just caused a coughing fit, so that he was gulping down mouthfuls of the vile, poisonous air. His eyes started to water and tears began to stream down his face as he crawled over to the door and tugged on the handle. It was locked.

"CHUNG!" he tried to shout. "CARCER! Let me out!" but his voice came out as a croak, and besides, he knew they would be long gone by now. He hammered on the door a few times before his body insisted that he concentrate on coughing. The air was grey with the foul gas - they must have dropped at least a dozen, and one was usually enough to render a small room unbreathable. He needed clean air.

Blinking his eyes furiously to try and clear the tears, he search the floor blindly for his wand. He felt his heart leap as his fingers closed around it, but what was the unlocking charm? His head was so thick and his vision was starting to swim. It was so hard to think and breathe at the same time. "Alo..." he tried, his lungs failing him before the third syllable. "Alo..." He started to panic, he couldn't breathe at all, it was like when you thought you might die laughing, just a lot less funny.

He could see bright spots in front of his eyes and his head pounded, the room was getting darker... was it the smoke turning black, or was he just dying?

"What in the -" there was another voice coming from somewhere, but he barely heard it over the sound of the roaring in his ears. Then someone had grabbed him under the arms and was dragging him to where there was - suddenly, blessedly - clean air to breathe.

He gulped it down gratefully while someone thumped him on the back until the coughs eventually subsided. He looked up through still-streaming eyes at Professor Tufty. "Good lad," she said. Those words sounded so strange coming from her mouth, and he was so relieved at being alive, that he started to laugh, but this only sent him off into another fit.

"Dungbombs, eh?" she said when this bout had also ceased. "An oldie but a goodie. I didn't think you were the pranking type, Mr Malfoy."

"It wasn't me!" Scorpius exclaimed.

"Who was it, then?"

He opened his mouth to answer, then shut it again. As much as he'd like to see Jian and his mates in detention until Christmas, the fact was that he already had enough enemies. Dobbing was another one of those things that you just Did Not Do.

"Thought you might say that," said Professor Tufty flatly. "Was it the terrible Gryffindor trio? Seems like their M.O." Scorpius blinked in confusion, but she didn't seem to expect an answer. She pushed his hair aside and looked critically at his head. "You'll have a nasty bruise there, in my professional opinion. Get in a fight, did you?"

"Fell," Scorpius said. This was partially true - he had fallen, even if it was only after the fact.

"Of course you did."

"I did!"

"All right then." Tufty turned her face aside and coughed politely, and Scorpius realised that he must smell dreadful. He resisted the urge to sniff his sleeve, thinking he might throw up if he did. His robes would probably have to be burned, and it wasn't like he had loads of spares. "I think we'd better get you to the hospital wing. Not sure what kind of damage those things can do. Never had a near-death by Dungbomb before." Scorpius was just about functioning enough to recognise this as a joke. Perhaps he wasn't going to get in trouble after all.

-*~S~*-

So much for that theory, he thought later as he waited outside the Headmistress' office. Madam Pomfrey had, to his relief, confirmed that he wasn't going to die, but she did make him drink a sickly-sweet potion and forced him into a medicinal bath. He quite liked the bath, and at least it got rid of the stink that stuck to him like oil, but he insisted on being able to take it on his own. His head was still a bit sore, and there was an ugly purple bruise already starting to take shape, but the old nurse had ruled out a concussion. He thought she might heal it with magic, but she explained to him crossly that if she went around fixing every little bump, bruise and cut the students sustained, they would no longer have to watch where they were going.

"Come in," said McGonagall's voice from inside the office. Tufty had picked him up from the hospital wing and led him past the statue, up the staircase and left him there. He had never been inside the Headmistress' office before. He pushed the door open gingerly and closed it softly behind him. "Sit down," came the reedy voice again. He hurried forward and sat in one of the stiff armchairs that stood in front of McGonagall's desk. She looked down at him over the rims of her square spectacles. He was a bit nervous of McGonagall. She had never actually spoken to him directly, and he got the feeling that she didn't like him very much but was doing her best not to show it. He looked up at the pictures on the wall to avoid her gaze, and realised that there were dozens of other old faces looking down at him. He held back a shudder.

"My my, the very spit and image, as it were," said one of them, and a wrinkly old man with twinkly blue eyes.

"Yes, thank you Albus," sighed McGonagall, and Scorpius blinked in surprise. "And how are you feeling, Mr Malfoy?"

"Much better thanks, Professor," Scorpius replied politely, tearing his eyes away from the portraits, though he could feel their interested eyes on him.

"Good. Professor Tufty has explained to me what happened. Or at least, what she perceives to have happened. Perhaps you would care to elaborate?"

Scorpius took a deep breath. He had prepared for this while soaking in the bath and on the journey up to the office. "I went to get a book Professor Tufty said she could lend me," he explained. "She told me to come when I had free time - anyway I knocked and there was no answer, but I thought maybe she might have left it there for me, so I opened the door and went it but I tripped on something and I must have triggered all these dungbombs. I must have hit my head when I fell," he added.

"I see," said McGonagall. "And what is your explanation for why the door was looked behind you?"

Scorpius stayed silent. Damn. He'd known there was a hole in the story somewhere.

"Mr Malfoy, were this merely a matter of an unoriginal pranking," she said the word as if it were something slimy she would like to flush down the sink, "Professor Tufty and I might have been prepared to let the matter slide, however, this is a bit more serious. You might have suffocated. Who locked you in that room?"

Scorpius didn't say anything. He didn't like Jian, but the last thing he needed was to be branded a snitch. He had sort of been hoping that the Gryffindors might forget about him once he was in second year, and he didn't need the Slytherins taking their place as his designated tormentors.

McGonagall sighed. "Mr Malfoy, I feel I must tell you that I accepted you into this school under duress. To be frank, your predecessors have done nothing but wreak havoc and terror upon Hogwarts, and I did not wish to see that cycle repeated. I was persuaded however, that you deserved a chance." She glanced momentarily behind her at the wall of portraits. "I have not said anything to you before now because there has been no reason to do so. By all accounts you are a conscientious student, you interact perfectly acceptably with other students, and you do not go out of your way to cause trouble."

This seemed like a compliment, but somehow Scorpius couldn't be sure. "Thank you, Professor," he said. The news that she hadn't wanted him at Hogwarts in the first place was crushing. "Are you going to expel me?" he asked quickly, the words flooding to his lips almost as soon as the horrifying idea leapt into his brain.

McGonagall blinked. "Not yet, Mr Malfoy. However without further evidence I shall be forced to hold you responsible for today's incident -"

"Oh come now, Minerva." It was the blue-eyed man again. He was giving McGonagall a disapproving look.

"Albus, I thought we had agreed that since I am Headmistress of this School, and your advice is welcomed in private, you would not interrupt during student meetings," said McGonagall, her tone icy.

"It wasn't me, Professor!" Scorpius broke in. "I just went to get my book, and then the bombs went off, and I couldn't breathe, and I fell down - I honestly didn't see who locked the door on me." This was true, he realised triumphantly. He had been too dazed to even realise it was happening.

There was a knock on the door and Professor Tufty came in. "I've got something, Minerva," she said, a triumphant smile on her face.

McGonagall got to her feet. "Wait here, Mr Malfoy," she said. She shot a warning glance at the portraits before hurrying out of the room with Tufty on her heels.

Scopius sat, uncomfortably. Some of the portraits seemed to have lost interest and were doing other things. Some had even vacated their frames. But three were still staring at him - the blue-eyed man, a sallow-looking man with long, black hair, and a narrow-faced wizard in green and silver robes, with black hair, dark eyes, and a pointed beard.

"Well met, Mr Malfoy," said the blue-eyed one cheerfully. "I am Albus Dumbledore."

"I know," said Scorpius, a bit shyly. "One of my friends is named after you." And my father once tried to kill you, he added to himself. One of his father's favourite complaints was that he had come within seconds of killing Dumbledore until Snape jealously beat him to it.

"Ah, yes, young Albus Potter," Dumbledore smiled. "Harry does me a great honour, but then, he was always a very honourable young man. Don't you agree, Severus?"

The long-haired man scowled. "I never asked him to name anyone after me," he said sourly.

"I know you didn't, and I'm sure he wouldn't have if you had," replied Dumbledore jovially. "His great weakness was always reverse psychology."

Scorpius gasped. "You're Severus Snape!" he squeaked. Everyone knew about Severus Snape. He had been Headmaster of Hogwarts during the Year of Terror, and everyone had believed him to be Voldemort's right hand man, until he had revealed to Harry Potter that he had been a spy all along, and somehow - the details were not too clear on this point - helped him before his death in a way that allowed Potter to kill Voldemort once and for all. To some he was a great hero. Others never really believed that he had been on their side. And others -

"My father loathes you," he said, unable to stop himself.

Snape grimaced. "The feeling is mutual, I assure you," he replied. "I did what I could to help him, but evidently he was always an irredeemable coward."

Scorpius opened his mouth to argue - that was his father, after all - but found he had no evidence to present to the contrary. "Sorry," he said instead, meekly.

"Don't apologise, boy!" snapped the third man, the one with the pointy beard and ancient robes. "What have you got to apologise for?"

"Don't shout at the boy, Phineas," Dumbledore chided him.

"He's a Black, isn't he? Show some backbone, boy!"

"Mr Malfoy?"

Scorpius turned around in his chair. It was Professor Longbottom standing in the doorway. "Professor McGonagall sent me to take you to your common room."

"Oh." Scorpius stood up. "So I'm not expelled?"

"They found the ones who locked you in the office. It was the Slytherin boys from your year."

'Oh," said Scorpius again, remembering that he wasn't supposed to know this. "How did they find out?"

"They went back to their dormitory stinking to high heaven. We may be teachers, but we are not idiots." He smiled. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

"I'm supposed to be in History of Magic -"

"Professor Binns knows where you are, and I'm sure you can copy notes off your friends."

"Try not to let him 'fall' into anything else on the way, Longbottom," muttered Snape.

"I'll do my best, Professor," Lizzie's father called back as they left the office and he closed the door behind them. He shuddered dramatically. "That man still sends a chill up my spine," he said as they descended the staircase. "Don't tell anyone though," he added, with a wink.

"He is sort of scary, isn't he," Scorpius said sympathetically.

Professor Longbottom chuckled. "It's just a portrait," he said. "You mustn't take anything they say too personally. They might be intelligent, but they don't have brains. Their basic personalities are painted in. They can't change."

Scorpius nodded. "Dumbledore seems nice."

"He was."

They exited the gargoyle statue and made their way up to Ravenclaw Tower. Scorpius looked down at his shoes as they walked, feeling the emotions of the day begin to drain him of energy. "Sometimes I think everyone must hate my father," he sighed eventually.

Professor Longbottom looked at him. "A few people probably do," he admitted, democratically.

"Do you?"

The Professor paused for a moment, as if thinking about it. Scorpius was surprised. He hadn't really been expecting an answer; not an honest one, at any rate.

"Hate is a strong word," the man said eventually. "I suppose I feel sorry for him more than anything. Not that I don't have plenty of reasons to hate him, mind," he added, reluctantly. "Far apart from some of the more serious things he did, him and his mates picked on me a lot when we were kids, right up to seventh year - what they call the Year of Terror. I even got seriously injured a few times - a bit like you, today."

Scorpius looked up at him and saw, as if for the first time, the thin scar that ran down his teacher's cheek from eye to chin. "Why do you feel sorry for him, then?" he asked, feeling slightly ill again.

"Well..." again, Professor Longbottom seemed to consider his words carefully. "I suppose because he was born into and brought up in a world that didn't give him a choice, or a chance, to change. His parents, his family and all his friends were Voldemort supporters, and they all expected him to be the same. It would have taken more courage than he ever had to break out of it, if he even wanted to."

Scorpius thought about this. He had to admit that there weren't many holes in this logic. "But he's my father," he pointed out after a moment. "Isn't that my world too?"

"Thankfully that world doesn't exist anymore, unless we let it. You always have a choice, Scorpius."

They had reached the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower. They stopped and regarded each other for an awkward moment. Then Professor Longbottom said, "We all thought you would be just like him, you know. Perhaps that was very unfair of us, but your friendship with Albus alone is enough to tell anyone how different you are. You mustn't be surprised when people assume he must have raised you into his own prejudices."

Scorpius shrugged. He could explain that one. "He mostly ignores me," he said. "I mean he's got a few speeches about how Muggles aren't really human and the importance of ancient family values, but they're not really convincing. I guess he was hoping it would just be genetic."

Professor Longbottom coughed into his hand, in a suspicious way that made Scorpius wonder if he was laughing.

"I don't want to be like him," Scorpius clarified. "I'm just not sure how I go about convincing everyone in the whole world that I'm not."

"You will," the Professor assured him. "Trust me. The more you stick with Albus and Rose, the more their inherent Weasleyness will rub off on you, and people will forget that they're supposed to resent you. Believe me."

Scorpius hesitated for a moment. "But... if that happens, my father will be the one who resents me," he said, not able to bring himself to meet the Professor's eyes.

"Well... perhaps. But like I said, you always have a choice." Professor Longbottom sighed, and bent slightly to be on Scorpius' eye level. "I know what its like to feel as if you can't talk to anyone," he said. "I know I'm not your Head of House, but I do have two children of my own, and... well. I hope you'll consider coming to me if you feel like you need a chat, or have questions, about schoolwork, or... anything else."

Scorpius felt a weight that he hadn't even realised was there lift off his shoulders. He smiled. "Thanks, Professor. I will."

"Good. Now you better get some rest, or Madam Pomfrey will be after me for keeping you up." He walked off down the corridor.

Scorpius turned to the staircase and was about to go up when he remembered something. "Professor?"

He turned. "Yes?"

"Um, congratulations on your... baby."

Professor Longbottom grinned widely. "Thank you, Mr Malfoy."

-*~R~*-

By the time Rose and Albus got back to Ravenclaw tower, everyone was talking about how the Slytherins had nearly killed Scorpius Malfoy by locking him in a room full of exploded dungbombs. "Do you think he's all right?" Rose asked Albus, chewing on her bottom lip, as they entered the common room.

"Has to be," Albus said, sounding a little too sure. "We'd know if he wasn't, wouldn't we?"

"Maybe we should go to the hospital wing," Rose suggested.

"Yeah, maybe. Let's check the dormitory, first." Rose knew that he meant he should check while she waited, but she followed him up, anyway, and he didn't dare argue the point.

Scorpius was lying fully clothed on his bed, fast asleep, with his iPod clutched in his hand and one earphone dangling out of his ear. Rose breathed a sigh of relief. "He's okay."

"Yeah if you don't count the brain tumour he's going to get from that thing," Albus said. "What?" he added at her look. "That's what my mum would say."

Rose leaned over and shook Scorpius' shoulder slightly. "Scorp?"

The boy stirred and his eyelids flickered. "Wher'm'I?"

""In your own bed, you plonker," said Albus, rolling his eyes. "Mate, that is one hell of a bruise you've got brewing."

Scorpius sat up and poked gingerly at his forehead. "I bruise badly," he sighed. "I suppose you want to know what happened?"

"Wouldn't mind."

He told them the story, and Rose felt herself get angrier and angrier. "Those... those..."

"Bastards?" Albus suggested.

"Yes!" Rose agreed, though of course she would never use that sort of Language, especially around her mother. "They outnumbered you four-to-one, and you were only trying to stop them doing something stupid in the first place!"

"Somehow I don't think they'll see it that way," Scorpius sighed. "Like I need more people holding a grudge."

"You didn't tell on them," said Albus.

"Yeah, but if I hadn't been there they wouldn't have got caught." He sighed again.

"Buck up," said Albus, nudging him. "Who's afraid of a few Slytherins anyway?"

"Precisely," Rose agreed. "We'll protect you."

Scorpius flushed. "I don't need protecting!"

"Uh huh," Albus agreed. "If you say so. Three against four's still better than one."

Scorpius had no argument to this. Rose felt her heart sink slightly at the defeated look on his face, and she gave him a hug. He returned it, just slightly, giving her a slight squeeze around the waist. "Thanks," he said, softly. "What did I miss in History of Magic, then?"

"What didn't you miss?" Albus laughed. "Only the most fascinating goblin war to be explained three times in a monotone with particular emphasis on each goblin's full name and exploits."

Scorpius frowned. "Wait, that reminds me. Do you have an extra brother I don't know about?"

"Er, why?"

"Oh, just something Snape's portrait said about your dad naming someone after him."

Rose giggled. Albus made a face at her. "Yeah, that's still me," he said. "You'd think out of the three of us Dad would have come up with at least one original name."

"Albus Severus Potter?"

"Well don't go shouting it around, but yeah."

Scorpius snorted. "And I thought I lucked out with Scorpius Hyperion."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Okay, you both have beautiful names. Now can we go get some dinner? I'm famished."

Chapter Text

Raindrops on Roses

Second Year Part 2

2018-2019

~*-A-*~

The tryouts for the Ravenclaw team were held in the first week of October. Albus managed to talk both his friends into coming with him, despite Rose's reservations about time management and Scorpius' insistance that he wasn't that great a flyer. "It's not about getting in," Albus told them. "They hardly ever let second years in, anyway. Its about showing them you're keen so they remember you, next year."

"You do want to get in though," Rose pointed out. Albus shrugged. Of course he wanted to get in, but he wasn't going to get his own hopes up by admitting as much. Being Quidditch mad was practically a pre-requisite of being a Potter, or a Weasley, and he was both. Both his parents and all his uncles bar one had been on their house teams, and now it was his turn. He had been flying, quite literally, since before he was born, and he'd been trained by the best, from his point of view.

The only problem was that Ravenclaw already had a full team, made up of sixth and seventh years, and there would be dozens of younger students jostling for reserve positions. "But," he explained to Scorpius as they walked out onto the pitch, "that means half the team will be gone next year, and there'll be more places open." In his right hand he carried a brand-new Firefly 10, a twelfth birthday present from his parents. Rose had a Firefly 4, and Scorpius was borrowing an old school broom, a rather battered looking Cleansweep 7. They joined the group of about twenty Ravenclaw hopefuls.

"Right then kids." The Ravenclaw captain was a tall, lanky girl with long blonde hair pulled back into a perfectly straight ponytail. "I'm Olivia Drummond. We're trying to fill four reserve spots for this year, and if you're good enough we might train some extras, just in case. Of course, if any of you are really brilliant we might have to bench some of our old-timers altogether." The crowd tittered. Albus noticed that the rest of the team did not laugh, but regarded the newcomers critically.

First of all, Olivia got them to line up and mount their brooms, then hover just above the ground. They had done this on their very first flying lesson, but some people still managed to fall off. Olivia sent them off the field, shaking her head. "There's always some," she sighed. "Right, the rest of you, in the air at goal height. You're going to do laps, Alex will lead you." A tall, dark chaser stepped forward, broom in hand, a Firefly 7. "We're going to be watching your conformation and balance so no tricks and no speeding, please. Just keep pace until we tell you otherwise."

Albus felt his stomach do a little flip as he kicked off the ground with the others. He wasn't sure why he was nervous - he could fly laps in his sleep. They set off around the pitch, starting off at a leisurely pace before speeding up. The team, clearly visible in their blue and silver Quidditch robes, flew up to hover in the middle of the pitch to watch. Every now and then one of them would fly forward and pull someone out of the group. The rejected players went to sit in the stands, looking disappointed.

Albus tried to concentrate on flying, but after a while he started to get bored. He looked over at his friends. Rose was a natural flyer. She soared easy alongside him, her wave of bushy, fire-red hair streaming out behind her. Scorpius, despite his protests to the contrary, wasn't at all bad in the air, even if the increased speed was starting to take its toll on his old school broom.

Suddenly Albus was forced to pull his broom up quickly, a few seconds too late, as he realised Alex had stopped. He looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed. There were perhaps ten left in the group, but luckily no one was looking at him.

Alex paired them up and the team tossed them some Quaffles, which they were set to throwing and catching. Albus' partner was a fourth year boy whose catching was all right, but his throws were so wide-ranging that Albus was forced to zoom right and left in order to catch them. After a while though, Olivia tapped him out and partnered Albus herself. After a few throws she caught the ball and grinned evilly at him. "Think fast," she said, and tossed the Quaffle over her shoulder.

Albus didn't bother to think. Must Catch Ball. He went directly into a forward dive, the air singing in his ears as he went almost verticle. Come on, he thought desperately to his broom. Come on, come on, come on..."

He came within reach of the ball and slammed into it, collecting it against his chest as he straightened up and twisted to a halt. He had come so low that his knees almost brushed the grass. He let out a huge breath that he hadn't known he was holding, and realised that everyone was applauding.

"Told you," said Olivia. "Potters are all natural Seekers."

Albus turned. She was hovering behind him, beside one of her teammates.

"Actually my grandfather was a chaser," Albus said, feeling as though he might have been tricked, but wasn't sure how.

"Your brother just got made Gryffindor Seeker, didn't he?" Olivia continued, apparently not listening.

"Yeah, he was reserve last year, but their old Seeker quit 'cause of NEWTs. James reckons he's faster than her, but I dunno if its true. He's always saying stuff like that."

"Reckon you're faster than him? If you make the team you'll be playing against him eventually. Can you handle that?"

Albus drew himself up. "Course I can."

"Right. This is Liam. He's a sixth year so we're stuck with him for a while yet, but I want him to train his replacement. You up for it?"

Albus stared, his heart was singing. "Yes!"

"Good."

Albus was left with Liam as Olivia went off to sort out the rest of the newcomers. "Liam Ryan," the boy said holding out a hand. He was small for seventeen, a good build for a Seeker, with reddish-blonde hair and freckles so thick you could barely see skin.

"Albus Potter," Albus introduced himself. "Um, it's not Ryan as in... Barry Ryan?"

Liam smiled. "Yeah, it is."

"But he played for Ireland!"

"Yeah, I know." He peered at Albus with newfound respect. "Most Englanders don't know much about the Irish teams."

"My Dad saw them play in '94, the Bulgaria game," Albus said excitedly. "We've got an old poster of them somewhere. Wow, Barry Ryan."

Liam laughed. "He's all right, but he's no Harry Potter. Anyway didn't your mum play pro for a bit?"

"Yeah, in the Holyhead Harpies. She writes Quidditch for the Prophet now."

"Regular Quidditch family. You got anymore siblings lined up for the team? We could use some fresh blood: another two years and the whole team will be changed over."

"My sister Lily," Albus told him. "Dunno if she'll be in Ravenclaw, though."

"Well, try and get her on the team if she is."

Olivia had finished assigning the other players. Rose had made second reserve chaser. Scorpius hadn't got in, but she told him to try out again next year after working on his hand-eye coordination.

"This is our year, boys and girls," Olivia announced when the remaining unchosen applicants had walked off the pitch. "I can feel it. Bloody Gryffindor have won four years in a row, and now it's our turn. Right?"

"Right," the team chorused, the new reserves chiming in a beat behind.

"Great. See everyone at practice, 5pm sharp Saturday night."

They celebrated with extra dessert at dinner. Scorpius didn't seem at all phased by his loss. "I can work on Herbology while you two are practicing," he pointed out. "I know I slow you up when we try and do it together."

"Don't be silly," said Rose in a rather weak attempt at argument.

The two new Ravenclaw players however found that they were forced to spend more time learning off the pitch than on it. Everyone had to know all the plays and tactics, and the team weren't going to waste valuable practice time teaching them. They had to sacrifice half their free time to studying the plays, while Scorpius lounged around listening to music and scribbling in his notebook.

At practice, Liam often took Albus aside for one-on-one Seeker training. The Seeker was only involved in about ten per cent of the team plays anyway, and Liam was a good teacher.

"There's more to a dive than just throwing yourself into it," he said one day after Albus had nearly brained himself on the frozen mud of the pitch. "You've got to think mathematically. It's all angles. Otherwise you'll try something your broom just isn't made to do, and you've had it."

This was a different approach to that Albus had been brought up with, which mostly involved trusting to luck and instinct. He found that by combining the two, he was developing his own technique that even Liam couldn't argue was effective.

Meanwhile, the team was preparing for their first match against Hufflepuff. Olivia seemed determined that they simply could not lose. The more he got to know her, the harder Albus found it to like Olivia, and he knew that Rose felt the same, because she didn't keep her opinions about the matter to herself.

"It's just that she acts as if she's arranged everything so we'll win," she muttered the night before the match as they did their homework in the common room. "Ugh, and the way she's always calling us 'kids'. It drives me mad."

Albus couldn't argue with that, but it turned out that Ravenclaw did win the match, 230-140. The Slytherin Seeker wasn't great, and Albus, sitting low in the stands with the rest of the reserve players, saw the snitch at least three times before Liam finally swooped down for it, ending the game.

Liam laughed when Albus nervously told him this. "Yeah, I must have flown past it about six times. We needed some extra points to get the season started, so I held off for a bit. Captain's orders." He made a mock salute.

With Quidditch on top of schoolwork, Christmas came around faster than anyone could have imagined. Albus felt guilty leaving Scorpius behind again, but he didn't like to think of how his mother would feel if he announced that he wasn't coming home.

"Oh, I'm fine," Scorpius said, shrugging it off.

"Just watch out for Chung and his mates," Albus warned him sternly. Jian and Carcer were also staying for the holidays. "I don't want to hear that they jumped you as soon as my back was turned."

"Yeah all right, you're not my bodyguard, you know."

"He's only teasing you," Rose told him, patting his arm. "But you will be careful, won't you?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I happen to be a wizard, you know, I'm capable of defending myself."

~*-S-*~

Jian had not exactly confronted Scorpius about the Dungbomb fiasco. He and his fellow Slytherins had detention with Professor Tufty every Saturday afternoon for the rest of the year, and they had lost fifty house points apiece, which put Slytherin at the bottom of the ladder. Hearing that for the first time had made Scorpius wince. He was sure they would be coming after him. But so far, all they had done was glare at him in the corridors and refuse to speak to him, which to be honest suited everyone quite fine. Scorpius got the impression that it would be too risky for them to try anything. If he broke his legs falling down some stairs, or suddenly grew a pustulating green horn, for example, it would be pretty obvious who was behind it.

Still, he found himself spending most of his Christmas holidays in the common room, or in the library, which, as long as you stayed within Madam Pince's field of vision, was undoubtedly neutral territory. He walked up and down from meals with groups of other Ravenclaws - just in case.

He really didn't mind that he hadn't gotten onto the Quidditch team. As much as he liked flying as a hobby, that was Albus' dream, not his. He wasn't sure what his own dream was yet, but he tried not to worry about it too much. After his meeting with McGonagall he was more or less determined to keep his head down for the rest of the year, and possibly the next five after that.

He still took his iPod with him everywhere, and also his notebook. He had started scribbling in it at the start of the school year, after he had found it lying abandoned and empty on a desk and its owner had failed to claim it. What he wrote was mainly scraps of thought, or bits of songs that he liked, but recently he had started trying to write words to his own songs. He had no idea how to write music, but since he was the only one reading them, he knew what they were supposed to sound like.

He begged the House Elves for more treats to send to his friends for Christmas, and accompanied the packages with long letters emphasising how much fun he was having and how he wasn't lonely in the least. He woke on Christmas morning to find packages containing a poster of Jimi Hendrix (who looked nothing like he had imagined him) from Albus, and a small book about delicate potions from Rose. He was so engrossed in reading the book (which contained concoctions he was sure they wouldn't cover in class until fifth year) that it took him a moment to realise someone was knocking on the door.

He got up hurriedly and went to answer it. It was one of the Ravenclaw fifth years, looking annoyed. "Some girl at the knocker for you, Malfoy," he said.

"Who is it?"

"How should I know?"

It was Lizzie. She had her hair tied back in pigtails and her round face was beaming.

"I thought you went home for the holidays!" Scorpius exclaimed.

"I did," Lizzie said, tossing one of her pigtails over her shoulder. "I came to find you. Daddy wants to know if you'd like to come over for Christmas dinner."

Scorpius thought he must have misheard. "You mean... to your house?" he asked when he finally realised he was probably not going mad.

"Well, we don't really have a house, its an apartment over the pub," Lizzie reminded him. "And we're serving guests all day, so its very in and out, but we get to eat, too. Some of Mum and Dad's friends are coming over and we thought you might want to come. Up for it? Dad asked Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick and they said it's fine," she added, scarcely pausing for breath.

Scorpius didn't dare refuse at this point. He had a feeling she would be horrendously offended, which would surely extend to her entire family.. "Um, okay. Thanks."

"Great," she said grinning. "Come to Dad's office at two and we'll meet you there."

She skipped off. Scorpius closed the door, attempting to process the last two minutes with difficulty. He had never been invited to someone's house before, apartment over a pub or otherwise. His friends in France growing up didn't count, as they had all accepted him into their homes out of respect or more probably, fear of his father. The thought occurred to him that perhaps the Longbottoms felt sorry for him. He grimaced. He didn't think he could stand that, especially when there was nothing to feel sorry for. On the other hand, Lizzie was his friend, wasn't she? He sat with her in class, sometimes, and she helped him with Herbology, and occasionally he would reciprocate by helping her with Potions. So why shouldn't he visit?

Except that it was Christmas, and Christmas was about family. Or so he heard. Christmas at his house usually involved little more than an owl from each set of Grandparents and perhaps a visit from his aunt Daphne. No one treated him any differently. There was the usual dinner and rarely any presents. He wondered what Christmas at the Longbottoms' was like. He imagined it being very messy and noisy, with possibly a lot of plants around the place. It was a confusing image.

Fortunately he didn't have much longer to wonder. He forced himself to keep reading his book in the Common Room, and then joined everyone at the window to watch a rather splendid snowball fight between Hagrid the old groundskeeper and some of the Gryffindors. It was half past one before he even knew it, at which point he had to go back to his dormitory to decide what to wear. He usually wore his school robes, even on weekends, because the casual clothes he did have were mostly green, some being handed down from his father and some having been bought in anticipation of his being sorted into Slytherin. But he could hardly wear school uniform to Christmas dinner, could he?

He settled on a greyish button-down shirt with a warm, if slightly threadbare, woolen jumper over the top of it. It was green, but bottle green, and he thought it would pass. He combed his hair, which he had been allowing to grow haphazardly since the start of the school year. He found he looked less like his father with long hair, even if his mother would no doubt make him cut it again next summer. He put his new book in his pocket, thinking perhaps Lizzie might like to look at it, and made his way down the many flights of stairs to Professor Longbottom's office.

Lizzie and her father were waiting for him when he got there. "Sorry," he panted, leaning over and clutching his knees for support. "Forgot I had to get to the ground floor."

Lizzie giggled. "Glad you could make it," said Professor Longbottom, smiling at him. "We're Flooing to the Leaky Cauldron. Lizzie tells me you've never been to Diagon Alley before?"

Scorpius shook his head.

"Well its a bit mad at Christmas time, but I think you'll like it. You can go first, Hannah's waiting on the other side for you."

Scorpius took a pinch of Floopowder and tossed it into the Fireplace. When he stepped out of the fireplace - he had learned at an early age that Malfoys did not stumble or fall when travelling by Floo - Hannah Longbottom was indeed waiting for him, the new swell of her belly just visible under her spotted apron.

"Welcome Scorpius," she said, ushering him out of the way of the fireplace as Lizzie came through after him. "So glad you could come."

"Thank you very much for inviting me," Scorpius said politely. "I hope it's not any trouble for you."

"Oh, don't be silly dear," Hannah laughed. "We've hundreds of guests tonight, one more won't make any difference."

"Hundreds?" Scorpius gasped.

"Most of them are downstairs, but they're all equally important," Hannah told him. Scorpius had liked Hannah every since he had met her at the memorial last May. She was a little plumper than he remembered, but she had Lizzie's long blonde hair and rosy smile. "Now I must get down there - running two dinners tonight! Madness."

"Don't strain yourself," Professor Longbottom sighed. "Please, love. We have extra staff on Christmas for a reason. You should be resting."

"I'll thank you to keep your medical advice to yourself, Professor," Hannah said, throwing him a challenging stare. "I may be seven months pregnant but I am not one of your students and you do not, I believe have a degree in gynecology."

"She says that every time I ask her to take it easy," Professor Longbottom sighed.

Scorpius took his bearings. He was in a large room that looked as though it was usually a sitting room, though all the chairs had been pushed up against the walls and there was a large table in the middle of it. Sitting at the table was a family of four, a blonde woman, a dark-haired man with a neatly-trimmed moustache, and two boys who looked to be about seven or eight. While it seemed quiet enough in the room, there was a steady rumble under his feet as though there were a lot of people talking and moving around on the floor below.

"This are our friends Luna and Rolf," said Professor Longbottom. "And their sons, Lycan and Lysander. Everyone this is Scorpius Malfoy, one of Lizzie's schoolfriends."

"Hello," said Scorpius nervously. The family waved. He noticed that the lady, Luna, was wearing a sprig of holly in her hair.

"And you know Anthony, I think?" Lizzie's Gryffindor brother had just walked through the door.

"Yeah, a bit," said Scorpius as Tony sat down on Lysander's other side. He had met the boy a few times at school, and found him, if not deliberately grumpy, then at least rather close-mouthed.

"Right," said Professor Longbottom, pulling off his grey jumper. He was wearing a red t-shirt underneath with a picture of what looked like a manticore on it. Seeing his Professor so informally dressed was somehow a bit shocking. "Who wants Butterbeers?"

"Me, me!" chimed the two boys, and Lizzie joined in. "Yes please," said Scorpius, a bit unsure but he reasoned that if he just did everything Lizzie did he couldn't go wrong.

"So did you hear from Albus and Rose yet?" Lizzie asked as they sat down, Lizzie taking the place next to Tony and Scorpius on her other side next to an empty seat.

"Oh yeah, they sent presents," Scorpius remembered, pulling out the book to show to her. "Albus says they're having tea at their gran's place and then they're going to London to see some sort of Muggle game."

"There's a Christmas match on," Tony grunted. "Football."

"Right." This sounded correct and Scorpius wasn't going to argue. He remembered that Lizzie's mum, like Rose's mum, was Muggleborn. Sometimes it seemed like everyone knew more about the Muggle world than he did.

"Are you in Slytherin?" one of the boys piped up, having lost interest in the maze game thing he had been playing with. Scorpius realised he was talking to him, and blinked.

"Um, no, I'm in Ravenclaw."

"I fort all the Malfoys were in Slytherin."

"Um.. most of them are," Scorpius agreed. "But I'm... not."

"Why not?"

Scorpius looked helplessly at Lizzie for some answers.

The parents of the overly inquisitive boy - Scorpius no longer had any idea which was which - were chuckling. "That's our Lysander," said the man called Rolf cheerfully. "Always questioning the very fabric of the universe."

Thankfully Professor Longbottom brought out the Butterbeers at this point, and Scorpius could hide his confusion by taking a long sip. "Wow!" he exclaimed.

Lizzie laughed. "Is that your first ever Butterbeer?" she asked.

He flushed. "I'm not meant to have sweets and things," he said. "I don't know why, nothing terrible ever seems to happen when I do."

"I had that same rule growing up," Professor Longbottom said as he set the table. Anthony, at his father's look, got up and helped. "Never made much sense to me either. Thank the gods for Hogwarts, eh?"

Scorpius grinned. "Too right, Professor."

The twin boys burst into laughter, and Scorpius jumped. What had he done wrong now?

"We're not in school, Scorpius, you can drop the Professor," his teacher told him gently. "You can call me Neville, or Mr Longbottom if you must. Just don't do it in class or you'll never hear the end of it, right Tony?"

"Dad, that was like four years ago!"

"Precisely."

Scorpius drank his Butterbeer and joined in the game of cards that was started. He hadn't played the game before but he picked up the rules quickly and was soon winning, until Lizzie triumphantly flipped over her last card and stole all his points.

Mrs Longbottom eventually came back, taking off her apron and hanging it as she bustled over to them. Neville got up to pull out her chair. "Our dinner's on its way," she told everyone. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Neville what are you wearing?"

Neville grinned and plucked at his manticore T-shirt. "Present from Ron," he chuckled. "In-joke from my Auror days."

Scorpius gasped. "You were an Auror?"

"Yeah, for a bit." Scorpius wasn't sure if it was the home atmosphere or the Butterbeer, but his teacher's formalities were draining away one by one as the day went. "It was necessary work at the time, I suppose, but I didn't love it. Then old Professor Sprout stepped down, they asked me to fill in for a term and I never left. Harry and Ron tried to get me to come back a few times, but I loved teaching too much, and Hannah was pregnant with Tony by then, so a safer job seemed appropriate."

"Safer my foot," Hannah sighed. "The things those Gryffindors get up to, I'm surprised you haven't been hideously maimed in some 'harmless' joke or another."

"Thanks Mum," said Tony, rolling his eyes.

Suddenly a man and woman came in with platters of food which they laid on the table. Hannah thanked them and set about serving the food onto plates, and Luna helped her, to Neville's obvious relief. The food was simple, roast turkey with gravy, roast potatoes and vegetables, but it was delicious. There were even Yorkshire puddings. One of the little boys piled three onto his plate until his mother scolded him into putting some back. Scorpius ate quite happily, allowing the conversation to wash over him. Some of it was about the pub, funny stories about some of the customers and the difficulties of getting good holiday help, and some was about school, and Tony's OWLs, and the little boys' pets, of which they seemed to have hundreds.

"Have you two decided what subjects you'll choose for next year?" Luna asked eventually, prompting Lizzie and Scorpius to look at each other with barely-disguised panic.

"We don't have to decide until May!" Scorpius protested.

"Well its good to make those kind of decisions early," Hannah said. "That way you've got plenty of time to think about them, do your research, talk to other students, that sort of thing. I advise you not to just choose whatever your friends are doing. That's how I failed my Ancient Runes OWL."

"I think I'll do Care of Magical Creatures," said Lizzie. "That sounds fun." Luna and Rolf both agreed heartily with this idea, but her parents seemed less enthusiastic.

"And you, Scorpius?" Hannah asked, apparently keen to change the subject.

Scorpius speared a potato with his fork and swirled it absentmindedly around his plate to mop up the rest of his gravy. "Well... I was sort of thinking about doing Muggle studies."

Hannah beamed. "Oh, what a good idea! Far too many pureblood wizards think they can just go through life without learning anything about the Muggle world."

"Hey, I manage," Neville said, indignantly.

"That's different dear," Hannah told him fondly. "You have me."

"Muggles are boring!" protested Lycan - or possibly Lysander - who had decided his vegetables were better building materials than a foodstuff and was currently arranging them into a tower.

Scorpius flushed. "Well I think they're interesting," he said, embarrassed. "And Rose and Albus both know lots about Muggles and I always feel like an idiot when they talk about... about computers and movies and things. I mean, I listen, but it doesn't mean I understand any of it."

"I imagine your father would object to your doing Muggle Studies, however," Neville said, quietly.

Scorpius sighed. "Yeah."

"Does he have to know?" Lizzie asked. Tony snorted with apparent amusement, though it was hard to tell.

"Elizabeth Longbottom," Hannah said sternly. "I hope you are not suggesting that Scorpius lie to his family about the classes he is going to be taking for the next three or five years."

"I was sort of thinking I'd do four extra subjects and just tell him about three of them, if he even asks," Scorpius said, unable to keep a hint of bitterness out of his voice. "Anyway that's not exactly lying, its more like... elimination."

To his suprise, Neville smiled wryly. "Ah, a trick I know well," he said. "Used to use that on my Gran all the time. Well, you'd better talk to Professor Flitwick about picking four subjects, but its not unusual for Ravenclaws, and you're a bright lad."

Scorpius grinned. Hannah still didn't seem happy about the idea, but she didn't seem to want to argue with her husband in front of the children.

All in all it was a great Christmas, Scorpius thought afterwards. After dinner, Lizzie had showed him around the pub, where the evening guests were still revelling in the aftermath of their own dinners, and all around the upstairs apartment, including her own room with a window that opened onto Diagon Alley. He stared down at it for a while. It wasn't busy, this being afternoon on Christmas Day, but it still seemed especially magical somehow, like Hogwarts, even more so than what he had seen of Wizarding Paris.

"It's a shame we can't go down there now," Lizzie said. "Maybe you could come over next summer and we could explore."

Scorpius explained that he would love to but that his parents preferred to stay in France on the holidays. "Maybe I'll ask if grandmother would take me, or Aunt Daphne," he said. "But I don't think father would let me if he knew I was coming to see your dad, honestly."

Lizzie tossed her hair. "Beats me why your dad hates my dad so much. Everyone else likes my dad. You like my dad, don't you?"

"Course I do. My father's just..." what was the word Neville had used? Prejudiced? Or cowardly, said Phineas Nigellus narking at him from the back of his mind. "Different," he settled on lamely.

"Sorry about Tony," Lizzie said, changing the subject with an ease reminiscent of her mother. "He's not always like that. Mum says its a phase he's going through."

But it was still nice to have spent a day with such normal, friendly people. Hannah gave him a hug before he left and said she hoped he would visit after the baby was born. Rolf and Luna both wished him good luck at school, and warned him to watch out for Puff-Eyed Pompleby's, whatever those were. Then Neville took him back through the Floo and wished him good night. Scorpius tried to say thank you for such a lovely dinner, but his Professor waved it off. "You deserve a day away from school," he said. "Stuck in this building for the best part of ten months, don't know how anyone does it." And he went home.

Scorpius told Rose and Albus all about it when they got back, and they told him about their Christmas and the football match, of which he understood very little but nodded and smiled anyway. And then classes and Quidditch practice was starting again, and everything was more or less back to normal.

~*-R-*~

Ravenclaw played another game, this time against Hufflepuff, in January. Rose and Albus sat in the stands again, watching with baited breath as Liam saved the game by catching the snitch when Hufflepuff were up by twenty points. Olivia was not happy with their near-failure, and the extra practices she ordered during the following few weeks very nearly had Rose going off the boil.

"This is stupid!" she announced after one session in near-torrential rain after they had showered and trudged up to the common room carrying their wet practice robes. "We're not even playing! Why do we have to be punished like this!"

"It's not punishment," Albus said, though he didn't sound sure. "It's like character building, or something."

She glared at him. "It's all right for you. Try catching a Quaffle or dodging a Bludger when its hurled at you out of nowhere and you've got rain in your eyes. I've got bruises everywhere!"

"The Gryffindor game is important," Albus pointed out. "What if we do have to play?"

"I'm second reserve, I'll play as soon as hell freezes over or when Olivia grows a soul," Rose muttered. "I don't think I'll ever be warm or dry again."

Scorpius, sitting in a nearby armchair, pointed his wand at her. "Siccus," he muttered. Her hair steamed as the water evaporated out of it.

"Very funny," Rose snapped at him.

"Just trying to help."

She gave him a Look. Sometimes he could be so infuriatingly calm about things! "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not really."

Albus coughed in a suspiciously obvious way, and she saw the two boys exchange amused glances. "Oh shut up both of you!" she shouted and stormed up to her dormitory.

It took her about a night and a day to calm down and start speaking to them again, during which time she spent most of her time with Lizzie and Belinda. They were good company, though of course she had no one to sit with during Potions or Defence Against the Dark Arts, and eventually she had to admit that she might have overreacted... just a little bit.

"You're just like your mum when you're angry," Albus told her when she grudgingly descended to sit with them at dinner. "It's hilarious."

"Was that meant to be an apology?" she asked him in a dangerous tone.

"Yes ma'am," said Scorpius, nudging Albus in the ribs. "We're sorry."

"Good."

They went to Herbology the next day to find that a short, old plump woman was teaching them. She introduced herself as Professor Sprout (retired), and explained that Professor Longbottom was on leave for a few weeks.

"Mum had the baby," Lizzie explained as soon as Sprout had left them to their own devices re-potting some Hiccuping Hydrandgea's. "A girl, last night. Doesn't seem fair I don't even get to go home to see her until the weekend."

"Oh, what's her name?" Rose asked eagerly. The thought of a newborn baby was enough to make her melt a little inside.

"Alice, after my grandmother. Dad's idea."

"Oh that's just lovely," Rose sighed.

"Yeah, if you like babies," Albus muttered.

Lizzie came back from the weekend with a handful of photos that the girls shared around and cooed over. The tiny creature that featured in all of them already had a mop of dark hair and Lizzie's chocolate-brown eyes. "Your Mum and Hugo came over for a bit," Lizzie told Rose.

"I wish I could go," Rose sighed. "Scorp wants to come too, I can tell. I think he worships your Mum a bit."

"You'll see her on May 2nd," Lizzie told her. "Mum always comes up for the memorial."

Rose sulked a little at not being able to see the baby for two whole months, but then it wasn't as if she was her own sister. After a few weeks Professor Longbottom returned to teach the NEWT and OWL classes, while Professor Sprout continued teaching everyone else. Whenever Rose saw him he had a wide smile on his face, if he did look a bit exhausted. She wondered how he managed, being Head of Gryffindor house, organising twelve different classes of Herbology and looking after his wife and child.

Oddly enough, all this made her miss her brother. Oh he was an irritating little snotface most of the time, but he was her brother. They had special jokes together, mostly about their parents, that even her cousins wouldn't understand. And he wasn't a baby anymore, but she began to long for the chance to give him a cuddle. Rose had an in–built need to cuddle people. She certainly couldn't imagine being an only child.

Memorial day came around eventually. Rose waited impatiently with her parents through the service for the opportunity to talk to Hannah. When she finally got there she found the woman surrounded by girls, mostly Hufflepuffs and Lizzie's friends, fussing over the baby. Rose even got to hold her for a little while. Scorpius had a look at her too, but declined the opportunity to hold her, pleading that he might drop her.

She sat with her parents at breakfast while Scorpius fled to sit with Lizzie, Hannah and the baby. "You'll have to meet my mum and dad one day," she told him with a sigh when everyone had gone home. "And Albus' parents too."

"Yeah... maybe," he replied, looking sceptical.

"Don't blame you mate," said Albus. "Come on Rose, the way your Dad looks at him I'm surprised he doesn't wet himself."

"Hey!" Scorpius protested. "I'm not... not scared, or anything."

"Mate, I'd be scared if Uncle Ron looked at me like that."

"I didn't notice him looking at me!"

"Probably a good thing."

"Oh shut up," Rose sighed. "He doesn't want to hurt you, Scorp, he's just interested."

"In what? I don't think I'm all that interesting."

"You're my friend. Dad's always been interested in my friends."

"Yeah, in case they turn out to be psychopaths," Albus put in, most unhelpfully.

Rose gave up.

Exams were coming up, and they also had to officially choose their subjects for third year. Rose decided on Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Study of Ancient Runes. Albus was going to do the same, but dropped Ancient Runes when he realised that if he was going to be playing more and more Qudiditch, he wouldn't have the time for three extra subjects. Scorpius stuck to his decision by picking Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, Study of Ancient Runes and Divination. "Divination?" Rose asked him, making a face.

"It's interesting."

"It's ridiculous!"

"Don't listen to her, mate," Albus told him flatly. "That's her mum talking. She can rant for hours about the evils of Divination."

"Well you're not doing it either!" Rose reminded him.

"Well, she's my aunt. I've heard almost as much about it as you have." Albus shrugged. "Doesn't mean Scorp shouldn't be allowed to make up his own mind."

And then, in a flurry of revision, pre-exam stress, post-exam stress, and results which made everyone wonder if the stress had in fact been worth it, the year was over.

Ravenclaw had lost the final match against Gryffindor, to everyone's disgust, but it was the closest final score that anyone could remember in recent years, and Rose couldn't help but feel a bit proud of her cousin James when he held the Snitch triumphantly aloft.

"I'm never going to hear the end of that," Albus moaned as the landscape shot past the train window. The intervening weeks between the match and the end of term had apparently not dulled the pain any.

"There's always next year," she pointed out sympathetically. "And at least we won't have to put up with Olivia anymore. I just hope the new captain is a bit more sane."

"I'm still going to have to put up with everyone fussing over James all summer," Albus sighed. "Great Seeker, just like Dad, blah blah blah..."

"You know feeling sorry for yourself isn't attractive at all," Rose told him.

Scorpius by contrast was being very quiet. "You okay?" she asked him gently.

"What? Oh yeah. Just thinking about this summer."

"It'll be over before you know it," she told him. Honestly, people were supposed to look forward to the summer holidays, not complain about them.

"Want us to babysit your favourite toy again, Scorp?" Albus asked, stretching his legs out onto the seat opposite.

Scorpius appeared to think about it. "Nah, reckon I'll risk it," he said eventually. "As long as its on me they probably won't find it. Anyway if I don't have any music I think I'll go mad."

They got off the train together at King's Cross amid the usual madness. Rose heard her name being called and turned to throw herself into her mother's waiting arms, then hug her dad, who took her trunk from her. She saw Albus and James being similarly fussed over by their parents out of the corner of her eye.

"Come on then," said her dad, but she hesitated, looking around for Scorpius. The boy was standing awkwardly a little way apart from them, looking around with a slightly worried expression.

"What's he doing here?" she heard her father snap, and for a moment she thought he meant Scorpius until she saw a big, burly man elbowing his way through the crowd.

"Who's that?" she asked.

"It's Gregory Goyle, isn't it?" her mother muttered to her father. "He doesn't have a child, does he?"

The big man pushed his way through to Scorpius, who stared, and indicated with a jerk of his hand that they were leaving together. The look on Scorpius' face told her all she needed to know. She ignored her mother's startled exclamation as she hurried forward towards him. He looked at her as if she'd gone mad.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Scorpius!" bellowed Goyle. She watched as the boy flinched, then his expression twisted unbelievably into a sneer.

"Push off, Weasley," he said, in a voice not quite his own, and then he shoved her. She stumbled back, and by the time she had collected herself, he had gone.

"Why that little -!" She looked around to see that her dad was having to be physically held back by her mother and, mostly, Uncle Harry.

"Dad, no!" she said quickly, running back to them. "It's okay, really, he was... he was just giving me something."

"What?"

She realised everyone was staring at her. Slowly she opened her hand to reveal the object that had been pushed desperately against her chest.

"That can't be good," Albus breathed.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"His sanity," Albus replied. "Do you think he'll be okay? Rose?"

She was staring down at the iPod, only a little over a year old but already battered with use. "I hope so," was all she could say.

Chapter Text

2019-2020

~*-S-*~

Dear Albus, Rose and Lizzie.

You would not believe the summer I am having.

Mr Goyle is staying with us. Mother absolutely hates him being here, but at least she can get out of the house. He and Father spend most of the time in the study. No idea what they're talking about. I tried to ask, but I just got told to mind my elders and betters.

I have got some new robes. They took the old ones off me almost as soon as I got home, so its a good thing I didn't have my iPod on me after all. I don't know where the money for them came from. Mama is still working at the apothecary, but I think all that money is going towards the debts and food and things.

I'm really sorry for what happened at the train station. I hope you understand why I did it. Mr Goyle is an old friend of my father and I knew he would tell on me if he saw me speaking to any of you.

I don't think mother likes me being alone in the house with Goyle either. He was in prison for a while, I guess. She's going to Rue Chouette to see if anyone needs help with odd jobs or whatever. I hope she finds something. It's not that I'm afraid of him, its just that he always seems to be watching me when he's around, and he's a pig. He just leaves stuff everywhere like he expects someone to pick it up after him.

I'm going to try and send this letter by Muggle post. I hope I can remember what you told me about stamps and things. Al, thanks for lending me the money, I promise to pay you back in September. Seems like ages til then.

There was a noise from downstairs, and Scorpius quickly put down his quill to fold the letter into his pocket. He shifted the stuff on his desk around and went back to his Herbology essay. Minutes later his mother appeared in the doorway. "I spoke to Monsieur Gerard at Le Moulin," she told him. "They want an aide-serveur."

Scorpius felt his heart lift with hope he hadn't allowed himself to feel until now. "Really? Thank you, Mama!"

She didn't look quite as pleased as she felt. "It's beneath you," she told him shortly. "But I would rather that, than you staying in this house night and day."

Scorpius decided not to mention that she had never minded this before.

"You will have to ask your father," she reminded him.

Scorpius felt his heart sink. "I don't suppose you would ask him?" he ventured.

Her face hardened. "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "You are not a child." She glanced at the pile of papers on his desk. "Have you finished your homework?"

"Not quite yet, mother."

"I suggest you do so before you breach the matter with him." Then she left, leaving him sitting alone in the fading light with his heart beating fast.

He stayed up late and did as he had been told, finishing his Herbology essay and putting the final touches on his Potions project. Then he went to bed and slept fitfully with the letter to his friends hidden under his pillow. The Muggle money Albus had leant him was tucked into a pouch and stuffed under the mattress with his private notebook. He was glad that they had decided owl post was too risky. He thought Goyle might strangle any owl that might have come from the Potters if he found it, with his bare hands. And if he got a job in the town, he would have access to a Muggle post office. All he had to do was ask his father if he could take the job.

No big deal, right?

He got up before the sun, put on a dressing gown and slippers and tip-toed past the bulk of Goyle snoring on the sofa to the kitchen. He made himself breakfast. His father was against what he called 'women's work', like cooking, but he was against a load of other things that were impractical when you didn't have a mansion and servants, and things. Sometimes it was as if he forgot that they were living in a small cottage in France, and there was no money for hired help.

When he had finished eating he cleaned the plates and then made up a tray for his father. He might as well be in a good mood before he approached him, he thought. He carried the tray to the study, where the man always seemed to be, even if Goyle was still passed out in the other room.

Draco Malfoy was sitting behind the desk that took up most of the space in the small room. He was reading what looked like a letter - Gergoire was perching on the windowsill. He looked up as Scorpius came in, and quickly folded the letter away. "What is it?"

"Breakfast, Papa."

His father frowned, but accepted the tray when it was put in front of him. "How old are you now, Scorpius?" he asked.

"Thirteen, Papa. My birthday was in March."

"I know when your birthday is, boy."

Why did you ask then? Scorpius thought, trying to keep his expression neutral.

"Thirteen means you are no longer a child. You will call me father, or sir, is that understood?"

Scorpius felt a sort of sharp feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite describe. "Yes, sir."

"Good." There was a short silence, as though his father was expecting him to leave, but Scorpius was still building up the courage to speak. "What is it?" the man asked eventually, with an irritable edge to his voice. "I am very busy."

With what? Scorpius wondered, but took a deep breath and said instead, "Mother says the restaurant on Rue Chouette needs a busser. An aide-serveur. May I?"

His father stared at him for a moment, then his face darkened. "You are asking me if you may accept paid work?"

"Yes, father." Scorpius tried to gauge the look on his father's face, his hopes dying with every second that passed.

"Why?" The man's pale eyebrows were knitted, the edge of his mouth curling into a sneer.

He swallowed. Because you won't, didn't seem like an appropriate answer. "I'd like something to do," he replied eventually. "Unless you'd like me to help with whatever you and Mr Goyle are doing, I'm sure I could - "

His father stood up, so fast that he almost pushed the desk forward. Scorpius forced himself not to take a step back. IMalfoys do not cower, Malfoys do not flinch…./I "That is none of your concern!" his father roared.

"Yes, P- father," he said quickly. "I'm sorry, I only meant... I've finished all my homework and I thought perhaps I could use the money to get my new school books and things, for my extra subjects." He clasped his hands behind his back so his father wouldn't see them shaking.

His father appeared to calm slightly at this. He sat back down. "Money will not be an obstacle for much longer," he said. "I am endeavouring on a business venture myself that will eliminate the need for any of us to engage in... manual labour." He said the words as if they dripped poison. "However... I do see the need for you to integrate yourself into wider society." Scorpius translated this as 'get you out of the house where you won't snoop into my business'. "You may take this position, then, on the condition that you let me handle your earnings, as your mother does. I will put some aside for your schoolbooks if you wish."

Scorpius could hardly believe his ears. "Thank you, father! May I go to town with mother, today?"

"Yes, yes," his father seemed to have forgotten he was there already. "Get out."

Scorpius fled. On the way back to his room he passed Goyle, who leered at him as he got up, the debris from his midnight snack rolling off his blanket and onto the floor.

Yes, he thought. Definitely the time to get out of here.

He met Gerard the same day. The restaurant owner was a lanky, black-haired wizard with a pointed nose. He didn't seem entirely pleased to be hiring a thirteen year old with no experience, but Scorpius could tell the wait staff were suitably relieved. He learned from them that their previous summer busboy had left to go abroad with his family with very little notice.

It was hard work. He cleared plates for the lunch service, washed and stacked them, ate from a plate of rejected salmon which in the face of all adversity was actually delicious. Not quite Hogwarts fare, but Scorpius had never eaten in a restaurant before. Not one as prestigious as the Moulin, anyway. And then he had to do the whole thing all over again for the dinner service.

By the time he fell into bed that night he was starting to regret his decision, and he regretted it even more when he got up to find that his muscles protested his every movement. He had to drag himself out of bed to do it all over again, his arms shaking as they tried to take the weight of heavy plates. After a few days, however, his body was used to the work. Even if he did come home exhausted and stinking of dirty dishwater, at least he was doing something. By the second week, his mother told him he could Floo to and from the restaurant by himself. The money he earned was fairly pitiful, but he handed the sealed envelope over to his father every week. He hoped he would remember what he had said about using it to buy books.

He made tentative friends with some of the waiters, most of whom were in their early twenties. He would occasionally help them out by translating for English tourists. On more than one occasion he even recognised a few people from Hogwarts, travelling with their parents.

The wizarding world is a small one, he reminded himself.

Between lunch and dinner he either went home or went for a walk around Rue Chouette, which while not on the scale of Diagon Alley was Paris' closest equivilent. A few times he passed by the Apothecary where his mother worked, but didn't go in. He didn't think she would appreciate the interruption by him. He didn't need her to tell him that the old shop was her escape, her respite from the coldness of the house, her husband's inattention. He might be thirteen, but he was not unobservant. Any fantasy he might have had that his parents had got married for any other reason than necessity had vanished long ago.

Eventually he plucked up the courage to go into Muggle Paris, and made sure both his Muggle money and the letter were in his pocket. He had added a few lines about his job before signing it. It was a bit all over the place but he knew that Rose at least would worry if she didn't hear from him at all, all summer.

He didn't wear robes at the restaurant, it was too hot and impractical in any case, but he still felt incredibly conspicuous as he went through the gate that was the entrance to the main city. No one paid him any attention, even while he stood for a moment as people and bikes and cars streamed past him. No one seemed to have noticed him emerging from what now appeared to be a plain brick wall. Surpressing a moment of panic, he recited the rules for getting back, thanking his lucky stars that he had thought to ask one of the waiters before he left. Third brick down and four across from the one marked with the double line. Two wand taps. Right.

He stepped onto the road and hastily jumped back as something huge and impossibly fast came roaring and honking past, nearly striking him. He staggered back from the curb, his heart pounding as he looked around. The metal monsters were everywhere, zooming back and forth. Cars, he told himself sternly. Not monsters. Don't be an idiot.

"Careful!" someone yelled at him in French. It was an eldery lady looking down at him disapprovingly. "Young people today don't look where zey are going!" she told him sternly.

"Yes Madame," he agreed quickly, also in French. "Excuse me but do you know where I can find the nearest bureau de poste?"

She seemed to calm down somewhat at his polite request. "I'm going zat way myself," she told him. Scorpius noticed that she was carrying four or five heavy-looking bags.

"May I help you carry, Madame?" he asked, and she smiled at him. He was apparently forgiven. She led him down the street, stopping once to cross the road. She poked at a button on a post with her stick, and they waited as the cars continued to roar past, stinking of smoke and other Muggle smells that tingled Scorpius' nose. Just as he was preparing to ask if they should try going another way, the cars all stopped and she began to totter across the road, apparently without a care in the world. Had she just done some kind of charm? Was she a witch after all? Then he saw a green light on another pole at the other end of the crossing, in the shape of a man, walking. Muggle magic, he thought incredulously. Like Apple Magic. Al was right.

She led him to what had to be the post office, the word 'post' visible at least a dozen time on posters on the windows. He handed the bags back to her, but she hesitated.

"Your parents are nearby?" she asked, quaveringly.

"Yes," Scorpius lied. "They just sent me to post a letter."

"A boy your age shouldn't be wandering alone in ze city." She sounded disapproving again. "How old are you, twelve?"

"Fifteen," he lied again. "I know I look young for my age."

"Ah." She seemed to take solace from this. "Well… you just be careful on ze road, young man. So few polite people your age around, nowadays…"

"I will," Scorpius said quickly, "goodbye!" He escaped into the post office before she could offer to walk him all the way back again. He realised as he did so that the old lady was the first Muggle he had ever really spoken to. She was nice, for an old lady.

There was only one person inside, a young man sitting behind the desk in the bureau. He was pressing buttons on something in his hands and looked up at Scorpius almost resentfully as he came in. "Yes?"

Scorpius swallowed his nervousness and stepped forward. "I'd like to send a letter please," he said, putting it on the counter. "I'd like an envelope and... and some stamps."

"How many?"

Scorpius blinked. "I'm not sure," he said. He could hardly just make it up. "As many as it will take to go to England." He fished in his pockets and drew out the pouch. There were a couple of pieces of paper in there, both with the number 10 stamped on them. Albus had explained to him that this was Muggle money.

"French Muggle money," he had added. "It's all I've got left from our trip there when I was ten."

"French Muggles have different money to English Muggles?" Scorpius had asked, nonplussed. "What for? Doesn't that get horribly confusing?"

"All Muggles have different money. I think it has to do with politics."

This seemed like a very silly way of doing things to Scorpius.

"Will this be enough?" he asked the man, handing him the little papers. The man gave him a confused look.

"You've only got the one letter?" he clarified.

"To England," Scorpius repeated.

The man sighed and took one of the pieces of paper. He put the letter in an envelope and peeled off a little sticker from a roll before sticking it on the envelope. Scorpius watched, fascinated. Then he gave Scorpius a handful of coins. Scorpius thought he heard the man mutter 'kids'. "Anything else?" he asked more loudly, and Scorpius stared at him.

"Is that it?" he asked. The letter was still sitting there on the desk. Surely that couldn't be it. He'd just stuck another piece of paper onto a piece of paper. How was that supposed to achieve anything?

"Yeah, that's it. I'll put it in the box for you and it'll go out tonight."

Scorpius decided that since the man worked here, as much as he didn't seem to enjoy it, he must know what he was talking about, so he nodded, and fled. When he glanced behind him, the man had picked up his little thing, which was a bit like his own iPod except black and square and shiny, and started playing with it again. He was glad he had signed up for Muggle Studies. Everything was so confusing here.

When the school booklist arrived in August, however, he was less glad. He had just got up, late, as was his routine, and was just about to get ready for his shift at the restaurant when his father came storming in. "What is this?" he asked, not shouting but his voice dark and dangerous. He waved a piece of paper in front of Scorpius' face.

"Er, is it my letter from Hogwarts?" Scorpius asked, seeing a flash of the school crest as it whizzed past his nose.

"Muggle studies?" hissed his father, taking a step closer so that Scorpius was forced to look up almost vertically to meet his father's eyes. "You told me you were taking Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Divination."

"I am," Scorpius replied, thinking quickly. "Where does it say Muggle Studies? It must be a mistake."

His father thrust the letter at him. He scanned it quickly. It did indeed list Muggle Studies as a fourth subject, and there were two books that were definitely not in the family hand-me-down pile. "It's a mistake," he said again, handing the paper back to his father and trying to keep his voice level.

His father's expression twisted. "Scorpius, if you are lying to me you shall wish you had never been born, do you understand?"

"Yes, father."

"Muggles are not worth learning about. They are not worth thinking about. They are under the impression that they own the land they live on, but wizards were here long before them. They are the rejects of our ancient society, those born without magic and doomed to live their lives in deaf ignorance to who are their traditional and true superiors."

"Yes father." The response was automatic, but his heart was beating so fast that he was surprised his father could not hear it. He had never lied to his father before, not like this. Oh he had omitted certain details, like the exact names of his friends and how exactly he had spent Christmas the previous year. But this was a real lie. Would his father know it? "I'll tell them its a mistake when I get to school. Sorry father."

After that, he was surprised when his father took him to Rou Chouette to buy his school things. The texts for the third year subjects, as well as a couple of extras for Defence Against the Dark Arts and the next Standard Book of Spells, made a rather expensive package, and for a minute Scopius thought he might change his mind. But the money was handed over with very little ceremony. His father then bought him a new set of school robes, a cauldron, and some new ink and quills. The whole experience might have even been enjoyable if the man had spoken to him, or allowed him to participate in any way. Scorpius stood awkwardly in the background while his father made the purchases, wondering how he was going to get his Muggle Studies books. Was it too late to ask Rose or Albus to get them for him?

Then, as they were walking home, a man came up and stopped them in their path. He was shorter and wider than Scorpius' father, and while he was wearing expensive-looking robes, his toadish face and grim expression reminded him of Goyle. "Malfoy," he hissed. "A word?"

"Not now," Draco Malfoy spat back. "Tomorrow."

"It's urgent. Ezekius sent me."

Scorpius, looking up, saw a flicker of something unknowable on his father's face. Was it fear?

"Very well then. Scorpius, wait here."

He took the toadish man to one side and they exchanged a whispered conversation while Scorpius tried not to look as if he was watching. A few people, recognising him from the restaurant, smiled at him as they walked past. He smiled back, but his gaze kept going back to the discussion which seemed to be dissolving into an argument. The toadish man seemed to win. His father nodded and made an acquiescent gesture. The man leered and walked away. When his father came back, Scorpius knew better than to ask.

-*~A~*-

The coming year at Hogwarts was, everyone was soon realising, going to contain an unprecedent number of Weasleys. Dominique was entering her NEWT year, Molly was doing her OWLS, James, Roxanne and Fred were in their fourth year, Albus and Rose of course in third, and now Lily, Hugo and Louis were all starting.

"I wouldn't be surprised if McGonagall stepped down," Albus heard his father saying as they began their annual shopping trip at Diagon Alley. "I think I would."

"At least they're a bit spread out," replied his Uncle Ron. "Imagine if we dumped all of them on her at once."

"Standing right here," Albus said.

"McGonagall's not the one who has to deal with them on a daily basis," said Uncle Bill, grinning. The effect this on his scarred face would probably be terrifying to anyone who wasn't used to it. "What about Neville, eh? Louis and Hugo are both busting to be in Gryffindor, and that'll make it at least seven in his House. Maybe we should all buy him a drink to apologise in advance."

"Men," Ginny sighed. "Come on, lets get all the shopping over with so we can go visit Hannah and the baby."

"Yes dear," Harry said diplomatically. He handed a handful of coins to Albus and Lily each. James had already received his pocket money - he had gone early to Uncle George's shop with the twins. "Don't spend it all at once," he cautioned Albus. "School things first, okay? We'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron in two hours. Come on, first years, lets get your robes."

Lily practically squealed with delight as she, Hugo and Louis were led away. Dom and Molly went with them, stating that they also needed new robes. This left Rose and Albus to do their shopping together. Apart from books there wasn't that much more that they needed, but Rose wanted to go to the pet shop.

"Mum said I could get a kitten," she said, jingling her pocket money. "Dad's not too keen on it, but we're going to school in a couple weeks anyway."

"I'll get some treats for Emmett, then," Albus said. "Not that he needs them." His own owl was rather fat and lazy, the result of overfeeding and not much exercise. Womy, the family owl, was much better at taking letters and not just flying around in circles and bringing them back again.

Rose spent about twenty minutes cooing over kittens. "Come on," he said to her eventually. "We're going to be late. You wanted to see the baby, right?"

"Oh," she said. She picked up one of the kittens out of the cage marked 'female'. It was black with one white forepaw. Even Albus had to admit it was sort of cute, even if he wasn't much of a cat person. "What should I call her?" Rose asked.

"Don't ask me. I've probably inherited my parents' crappiness at naming things."

By the time they got to the Leaky Cauldron, Rose had settled on Midnight. The pub was busy, this being the weekend after Hogwarts letters, and there were a few people there they knew, so they spent ten minutes or so chatting with people about their summers and their new subjects until Lizzie popped up beside them. "There you are," she said impatiently. "Been looking everywhere for you. Everyone's upstairs."

They followed her up to the apartment where everyone was fussing over baby Alice. The little girl seemed to be enjoying all the attention. At six months, she had a mop of dark curly hair and a huge smile. Albus even held her for a while.

"How you're running this place and looking after a baby is beyond me," Aunt Hermione was saying. "It was hard enough for all of us to get Saturday off to bring the children to get their school things."

"Oh, Lizzie's been helping me," Hannah replied, putting an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "I don't know what I'll do when they all go back to school. We can only pay a nanny for a few hours a week."

"I'd look after her for free," Ginny sighed, picking the baby up and cuddling her close again. "Oh, I want another one."

"No you don't," Harry said quickly. Albus hadn't even realised his father was listening, but apparently his ears were very carefully tuned to that sort of announcement.

"But we're going to be all alone in the house now," Ginny said, and Albus was taken aback to see a sparkle of tears in her eyes.

"Just think of all the extra work you'll get done."

"Harry!"

Luckily Neville came in at that point and forestalled any more talk of parental procreation. "There's my girl," he said, scooping Alice up and swinging her around. She laughed with delight and promptly punched him on the nose.

"Hey," Lizzie said, taking the opportunity while everyone was laughing at the scene. "Heard anymore from Scorpius?"

"Nah, not since that last letter," Albus admitted.

"I still can't believe he made it into a Muggle post office," Lizzie giggled.

"He's not an idiot," Rose broke in, bristling a little.

"I know that!" Lizzie said quickly. "He's just such a wizard, you know?"

Albus thought about Scorpius' iPod, which frankly he was thinking about giving a name to, and snorted.

-*~R~*-

Goyle was at the train station again on September the first. This time Rose made sure to avoid him as he heaved Scorpius' trunk onto the train with both hands before walking off into the crowd. Only then did she approach her friend, giving him her hand to help him up the last step onto the train. "Hi," she said tentatively.

"Hey," he replied, offering her a tired smile.

"Long summer?"

"Hell yes. Where's Al?"

"Helping Lily with her stuff. Oh, by the way, don't laugh at him."

Scorpius frowned. "Why would I laugh at him?"

She grinned. "His voice is breaking. It is pretty funny but James' teasing has got him all worked up about it."

Scorpius grinned back. "Right, I'll be careful. So what's news?"

"Not much - oh, I got a cat. Come on, I'll show you."

The youngest Potter/Weasley students had found a compartment near the end of the train. "Scorp, this is my brother Hugo," Rose introduced them. "And this is Lily and that's Louis, Dom's brother."

"Hi," said Scorpius. Rose was surprised to hear a hint of shyness in his voice. She had hoped they had Weasleyed that out of him.

"And this is Midnight," she said, picking her up out of the nest of discarded jumpers where she had been napping. The kitten mewed in protest.

Albus finished helping Lily with her trunk and came over. "All right mate?" his voice squeaked a little on the last syllable, and he grimaced.

"Fine," said Scorpius, absolutely straight-faced.

"How come Goyle was dropping you off?"

Scorpius made a face. "Mother was working and Father refuses to leave the study. He didn't much want to take me, but he'll do anything Father tells him. I don't think he's ever had an original idea in his whole life."

"So tell us about this job," Rose asked him once the journey was underway and Hugo, Lily and Louis had started a game of Exploding Snap.

"Oh that. Not much to tell. Cleaning tables, resetting, washing dishes, that kind of thing."

She wrinkled her nose. "Sounds awful."

"Sometimes it was. But it was worth it for something to do. And I got new school robes out of it, and new schoolbooks, except for Muggle Studies, of course. Still don't know how I'll get those."

"There's supposed to be a new Muggle Studies Professor," Albus broke in. "And a new Potions Professor, too."

"What?" Scorpius exclaimed. Rose knew he had like their previous teacher, Professor Hillburn. "Who?"

"Dunno, just something Dad heard."

Scorpius sulked for a minute and Rose searched around for a change of subject. "So are you trying out for Quidditch again?" she asked him.

He sighed. "Nah, don't think so. Going to be hard enough with four extra subjects. Who's the new Captain?"

They talked Quidditch for a while, and then, their game concluded with a bang that shook the whole compartment, the other three joined them in eating snacks from the trolley. Louis struck up a conversion with Scorpius in French, and Scorpius, reminded, gave Albus back his change from the Muggle money.

"But this is nearly all of it!" Albus protested. "You didn't just buy one stamp?''

"That was all he said I needed," Scorpius frowned. "You got the letter, right?"

"Course we did, but..." Albus looked at his face and apparently gave up. "Never mind."

-*~S~*-

The Muggle Studies Professor was called Professor Clearwater. She was about his mother's age, perhaps a little older, and she had a very endearing smile. When he asked her tentatively about the textbooks, before class, she assured him that they would find a way around the problem.

Scorpius loved his first Muggle Studies class. Nearly everyone in there was pureblood, like him, the rest were halfbloods who had been raised totally in wizarding culture. This meant that everyone was just as clueless as he was, and that was something he'd been afraid of. Professor Clearwater asked them to raise their hand if they had ever had interactions with Muggles, and Scorpius told the story about sending the letter, carefully making it sound like it had been an experiment rather than a necessity. When he described trying to pay the man twenty euros for a stamp, a few people laughed. But then he showed everyone his iPod, and suddenly he was the envy of the entire class.

Professor Clearwater handed out a stack of papers to each of them. They were on bright white paper rather than parchment, and bound along one side with a kind of plastic spiral. They were short stories, she explained, by Muggle writers, and they were required to read at least three of them before the next class. "Readings stories is one of the best ways to learn about Muggle culture," she explained. "If there is anything you don't understand, make a note of it and we will discuss it next class."

He then had Study of Ancient Runes with Rose, which was less fun. The Professor, an older man with a grey beard called Professor Warren, set them even more reading and a translation exercise. Arithmancy, the only new class the three of them had together, involved a lot of note-taking, even more reading and several exercises for homework.

By this point it was almost a relief to go to History of Magic and daydream through Professor Binns' sermon on Goblin wars.

On Wednesday, after Charms, he had Divination while the other two had Care of Magical Creatures. Divination was with the centaur, Firenze, who was rarely seen around the castle for the probable reason that he was too tall to fit inside most of the hallways. Anyway the stone floors probably bruised his hooves. Scorpius sat in the magical forest room with his classmates and listened as Firenze explained that their classes would alternate between him and Professor Trelawny who taught more 'traditional human magic'. Scorpius felt a bit lost after two hours of listening to Firenze talk about stars. He had thought that two years of Astronomy might have prepared him for Astrology, but apparently not.

Al and Rose came back from Care of Magical Creatures looking excited. "Hagrid's great," Al told Scorpius with great enthusiasm. "Told you you should have done his class."

Scorpius did not want to say that the huge man, who had never shown him any particular friendliness, scared him more than he cared to admit. "Lizzie's mum says that Care of Magical Creatures in dangerous," he pointed out. "She didn't want Lizzie doing it. I'd rather stay in Divination than lose an arm or a leg, thanks."

"Oh, like Hagrid would let any of us get hurt," Rose scoffed, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes.

Scorpius opened his mouth and shut it again. He didn't think anyone would appreciate him repeating yet another of his father's rants. His father definitely did not like Hagrid and he actually had been hurt during his class, no matter what anyone said.

The new Potions Professor suprised everyone by being a young woman. Her name was Professor Padma Patil. Al and Rose knew her, vaguely, from parties they had been to with their parents. Scorpius thought he might have seen her at the last memorial.

The class was disappointingly a non-practical lesson, mainly a catch up on on the previous year, introducing everyone and talking about what they would be covering up until Christmas. "I believe the top three students in third year Potions are in this class," Professor Patil said smiling before they left. "So I am sure it will be a prosperous year for us."

Scorpius, Albus and Rose looked at each other modestly.

"She seems nice," Rose said when they had left the classroom. "You should ask her about your extra projects and stuff you wanted to do."

"We'll see," Scorpius sighed. "I'll see if I'm still alive at the end of next week. The way it's going we'll be drowning in homework before it's out."

-*~A~*-

Liam, now in his seventh year, was the new Ravenclaw Team Captain. He was also Head Boy, which meant he had much less time for Seeker training with Albus. Al joined in the drills while Liam flew around the team, correcting manoeuvres.

It could be argued that the team was not as good as last year, now that half its players had left. One of last year's reserves was now a full Chaser, which meant that Rose was now first reserve. Albus pointed out glumly that since there were three Chasers, she was about three times as likely to get to actually play as he was.

Rose grimaced. "As long as its not a Gryffindor game," she said wryly. "I wouldn't put it past Fred to try and brain me with a Bludger."

Albus nodded. Whoever had let his cousin onto the team was clearly a masochist. Fred was like a madman with a Beater's bat.

At least Ravenclaw won their first game, against Hufflepuff, and Liam gave them a week off to celebrate, or possibly so that he could catch up on his NEWTs. Everyone else certainly tried to use the extra time to their advantage.

Albus was trying to write a report on unicorns for Care of Magical Creatures, but found himself too tired to concentrate. Instead he peeked over at what Scorpius was scribbling in his notebook. The thing was starting to get tatty around the edges. "Haven't you got any homework to do?" Albus asked after scanning a few lines.

Scorpius looked up and reddened, closing the book. "Probably. I can't quite bring myself to do Ancient Runes."

"What are you writing, is it a poem?" he asked. He couldn't read the words, but they were arranged in a sort of pattern.

Scorpius went, if possible, even redder. "Um. Sort of."

"All right, you don't have to tell if you don't want to," Rose said, giving Albus a cold look.

"What? I was just asking."

Scorpius sighed. "Don't argue about it. Its just a sort of song I'm working on. Happy?"

"Oh." Rose's face softened. "Can I see it?"

"Now who's being nosy," Albus muttered, going back to his essay.

"Maybe... when its finished," Scorpius said, sounding unsure.

Not long after Ravenclaw's win, everyone was distracted by their first visit to Hogsmeade. Lizzie, Rose and Albus had all been to the village before, although Lily, who had despite all Albus' secret hopes become a Gryffindor along with Hugo and Louis, complained that it wasn't fair that first years weren't allowed to go.

"You've been loads of times," Albus told her, sighing, over dinner the day before the outing. Albus and Rose occasionally joined their family for dinner at the Gryffindor table. They invited Scorpius to join them, but he was still wary of Gryffindors, and said he was fine sitting with Gaius and Peter and the Ravenclaw girls.

"Yes, but this is different," Lily sighed, and offered no further explanation.

The Hogsmeade trip was fun, even if the third years were quite carefully supervised by the teachers while the other year levels were allowed to wander a bit on their own.

Scorpius had no money to buy anything, but he seemed happy to look around, all the same. Albus bought a couple of Christmas gifts for his family while he and Rose showed Scorpius around the sweetshop and the Hogsmeade branch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. None of their family was working there, to Albus' disappointment, . "Dad owns part of the company, and sometimes he works in the Diagon Alley shop, on weekends," Rose explained as they left. "Uncle George is usually in the Hogsmeade shop, but he's travelling right now, on business."

"Going international!" barked Fred from nearby. Scorpius jumped. Albus felt a bit sorry for him - his tall, dark cousin could be intimidating, and didn't seem to realise it. Scorpius had mostly grown out of the pathological shyness that had occasionally crippled him in first year, but it always seemed to pop up again around the twins, or anyone in the Weasley family who wasn't Albus or Rose. Albus thought he should probably try and do something about that. They'd have to meet eventually.

Probably not Uncle Ron though, he thought as they went on to the Three Broomsticks. Start him off small. Aunt Hermione? No, she'd interrogate him into insensibility. Dad's out of the question. Mum, maybe. She'd at least be nice to him.

He ordered Butterbeers for the three of them, all the while formulating a plan. He would have to talk to Lizzie about it, but he was almost sure there was a way it could work.

Chapter Text

2019-2020

-~*S*~-

Scorpius was a bit put out when all he found at the end of his bed on Christmas morning was a letter from his mother. That was nice enough, he supposed, but he couldn't see how Rose and Albus could have forgotten about him. Perhaps his yearly offering of free sweets was no longer exciting enough to warrant something in return?

He quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. His friends would force presents onto him even if he gave them nothing, though they had learned not to do it except for Christmas and birthdays. There had to be another explanation.

To take his mind off his disappointment, he opened the envelope. Five gold coins fell out of it onto the bedspread. He stared down at them for a moment, then he quickly looked back at the letter.

Dear Scorpius,

I hope you are having a productive term. We might have had you home for the holidays this year, but that dreadful man is still taking advantage of our hospitality and I do not find him suitable company for you.

Your father's business dealings are progressing well, and he wishes you to have the enclosed five galleons to buy yourself a treat for Christmas. We are looking for a more suitable house and should have moved into the town by your summer holidays.

with affection,

your Mother.

Scorpius read the letter a few times. It was quite typical of his mother, for certain, formally worded and fuelled by duty rather than any real emotional concern. And the bit about moving, just tacked onto the end as if it weren't important! A townhouse - surely that was very expensive?

He picked up the coins, more gold than he had ever held before in his life, and not for the first time he wondered about his father's 'business'. He and Goyle were involved in something that no one wanted him to ask about. Did it have something to do with the messenger they had met in Paris, and the man called Ezekius?

Maybe it's illegal, he found himself thinking. Why else would it be such a secret? Then he felt guilty for such a thought. It had to be wrong to suspect your own parents of illegal activity.

But what if it is? said a treacherous voice at the back of his mind.

He shook his head and stuffed the money into a drawer for safekeeping. If it is, he reasoned, it's not as though I can do anything about it.

He brooded for the rest of the day until Lizzie came to get him. Professor Longbottom had drawn him aside in Herbology before the end of term to ask him if he was coming to dinner again on Christmas day. "I understand if you'd rather have it here," he had said. "But Hannah's glad to have you, and so am I, of course."

"Oh no, I mean, I'd love to," he replied happily. "I haven't seen Alice or Hannah since last May."

And Christmas at Hogwarts was fine, he supposed, but there wasn't really anyone to talk to, nearly all of his year mates having gone home for the holidays.

Lizzie was certainly pleased to have him come. She bounced all the way down to her father's office, chatting excitedly about the broomstick she had got for Christmas. "Dad said we could use the Floo ourselves this year," she said, rolling her eyes. "Nice, isn't it, not like we've been Flooing for thirteen years, or anything."

He chuckled to humour her, though privately he thought it was nice that her parents cared so much about her. He had been Flooing too and from the restaurant all summer and no one ever worried about Ihim/I getting lost.

Hannah gave Scorpius another trademark hug as he came through the fireplace. "I think you've grown!" she announced, smiling at him.

"Not much," he said, flushing. To be truthful he was a little embarrassed at his lack of vertical development. Albus and Rose were both taller than him, Rose more so every day, and Albus' voice had already evened out to a smooth tenor. Sometimes he felt like he was doomed to be a child forever.

The Lovegoods were not there this time; Hannah explained that they were having Christmas in Turkey while they searched for something called a long-haired Feeglepot. Instead there was an old woman - very very old, Scorpius thought, probably even older than Professor McGonagall and maybe even Professor Dumbledore. She wore a long black robe and a pointy hat with a sprig of mistletoe in it. She sat at the head of the table, ramrod straight and wearing an unseasonably grim expression. "This is Neville's grandmother," Hannah introduced her, and Scorpius thought he detected a hint of forced politeness in her voice. "Gran, this is Scorpius, he's a friend of Lizzie's."

The old woman peered down her spectacles at him, frowning. "Fellow Hufflepuff, are you?" she asked suspiciously in a sharp voice that didn't match her ancient appearance at all.

"Er... No ma'am, Ravenclaw," he replied.

"Ah. Boyfriend then?"

"Gran!" Lizzie squeaked. "Of course he isn't, I'm only thirteen."

"Does children good to get it out of their system early," the old woman announced to Lizzie as Scorpius' face reddened even further. "It always worried me that your father never talked about girls until his twenties."

"There was a lot of other stuff going on at the time Gran," said Neville as he came through from the small kitchen. He was carrying a tray of little sausage rolls in one hand and his youngest daughter in the other. Hannah took the plate and put it on the table while he handed the little girl to Lizzie. Lizzie proceeded to nearly smother her sister with kisses, which set the infant to giggling. "Isn't she the cutest thing?" she asked Scorpius, who smiled. She was adorable, even by whatever standards he had to judge cuteness by. "You want to hold her? She's heavy."

He only hesitated for the briefest moment. Telling himself sternly not to drop her, he let Lizzie put Alice into his hands. "Bada!" she said happily, and he grinned.

"She's a lot bigger," he observed.

"That happens with babies," said Hannah as she set the table.

"I just got a message from Ginny," Neville said, going over to help her. "She's stopping by with a couple of the kids in an hour or so, just to say hello."

"Oh good!" Lizzie exclaimed. It took Scorpius a minute or two to make the connection with Rose's 'Aunt Ginny', but once he did he felt a little thrill of excitement and a little concern. So far he had managed to avoid speaking to any of the adults in his friends' family. Then again it would be a nice to see Albus on Christmas - if that was what was meant by 'some of the kids'.

It was about an hour later, when they were in the middle of another delicious Christmas dinner and Tony, now a imposingly tall sixth-year, was telling a funny story about a potions accident in his class the week before holidays, when a redheaded woman came through the Floo and greeted Neville and Hannah enthusiastically. She was almost immediately followed by Albus and Rose, Rose shaking soot off a small package and Albus carrying a large, oddly shaped case. They came over and Rose gave him a crushing hug just as he heard Albus' mum explain "they wanted to give him his present in person, sorry for interrupting your Christmas..."

"All right mate?" Albus asked him, grinning, as both Ginny and Rose paused in order to fuss over Alice, whose mouth and bib were covered in gravy.

"Yeah..." he replied suspiciously. "What are you doing here though?"

"We brought your present!" his friend announced impishly. "Sorry it's a bit late but we couldn't figure out how to send it by owl post without shrinking." Al held out the bulky box.

Scorpius stared. "What is it?"

Albus sighed. "What does it look like, you moron?"

Scorpius took the box with a slightly trembling hand and laid it across the arms of a chair to balance it while he carefully flipped the latch and peeked inside. The instrument inside was a dark red-brown colour, polished wood with brass trimming. He touched one of the strings experimentally and it thrummed under his finger.

He looked up at Albus again, helplessly. "I can't," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

"What's the matter, don't you like it?" Rose asked, coming over to put a hand on his arm.

"Course I do," he said, not quite able to meet her eyes. "No one's ever given me a present like... that's... I love it, it's just... all I gave you was sweets!" He knew that everyone, including old Mrs. Longbottom, was now listening to this exchange, but he couldn't help it. He felt like he was about to cry.

Al sighed. "Malfoy pride again," he muttered. "Look, its my brother's old one, okay? Didn't cost us anything."

"We got you a book, too," said Rose, tentatively handing him the smaller package as if she half expected him to push it away.

"Yeah, but the iPod cost more than that," Albus said. "So say thank you."

Scorpius gave up. It was the expression on Rose's face more than anything, her eyes wide and lips tight with disappointment. He couldn't stand being the one to make her unhappy. "Thank you," he said. "Really, I... Thanks."

"Better," Al said, but he was smiling. "There's no excuse for not learning to play by the time we get back. Oh, by the way… this is my mum."

Scorpius tried to recover from the first shock in order to deal with this new challenge. The redheaded woman was smiling down at him, and he decided he could just about handle this kindly-looking lady. "Nice to meet you, Mrs Potter," he said, bringing to bear all the manners he could remember at that moment.

"Nice to meet you, Scorpius," Ginny said, equally politely, taking the hand he offered her and shaking it with a surprisingly firm grip. "I've heard such a lot about you."

"You too," said Scorpius, then, flustered, added, "from Al, I mean, and Rose, and I read your bits in the Prophet, sometimes."

"I'm glad someone does," she replied, laughing, and he couldn't help smiling in reply. Behind her he could see Albus and Lizzie grinning conspiratorially at each other, and he began to wonder if he hadn't just passed some kind of test.

The book was 'The Beginner's Guide to Guitar', and he opened it as soon as he had got back to the dormitory with the huge case slung across his back. Some of his fellow Ravenclaws had given him odd looks as he'd carried it into the dormitory, but he hardly noticed, so impatient was he to start. He devoured the first chapter with his eyes, then flipped back to the first page, 'holding your guitar', and reverentially drew the instrument out, balancing it on his knee and positioning his hands the way the diagram showed him. The next step was a couple of simple chords, and then how to switch between them. It was a lot harder than he had expected, but after a bit of practice he started to get the hang of it. Twenty minutes later, however, his fingers were burning and he had to stop, blowing on them and grimacing. The book promised that after a few days the pads of his fingers would harden and allow him to play for longer. He certainly hoped it wouldn't hurt quite so much every time.

On Boxing Day, he alternated between the short lessons in the book and, when he got tired or his fingers too sore, homework. He saved Divination until last. He was starting to regret not listening to Rose about that. Firenze's classes were relaxing but incomprehensible and Trelawny's, while amusing, had so far proved to be no less of a waste of time. He wasn't really fascinated by Ancient Runes as much as he thought he would be, either.

Muggle Studies was another matter. He had already read through all the short stories ahead of time, and devoured the textbook, which was co-authored by Professor Clearwater herself. Muggles were just so interesting! And he considered his guitar practice to be extra credit. The book had been written by a Muggle, after all, and his father would certainly class it a 'Muggle' instrument. Pureblood wizards played the piano, or the harp, or the violin. But he loved the sound of it, the feel of it, the way that after a while he didn't have to think about where to put his fingers, because it all just seemed to make sense.

By the time the holidays were over, he was about halfway through the book. He could play some simple tunes and a few chords. It was difficult to practice them, however, because as he read on, the book assumed that he knew how to play along to the tunes of Muggle songs he had never even heard of. He had owled his iPod to Albus and enclosed one of the Christmas Galleons, asking if he could find recordings of the songs he needed. Once the students returned and he had them, things went a lot quicker, and by February he was using his Galleons to send off for more books. Rose and Albus got him another one for his birthday in March, even if Albus did complain that the constant playing in the dormitory was driving everyone a bit nuts. He learned to wait until the tower was mostly empty before practicing, but this was rare, and he started to get frustrated with the amount of time he had to spend in classes.

"I think I'll drop Ancient Runes," he announced one night, tossing down his quill. "I have no plans whatsoever to become a cursebreaker, and I have no free time."

"Well you knew that would happen when you took four extra subjects," Rose said, in an annoyingly told-you-so sort of way. Scorpius didn't bother pointing out the flaw in this, which was that he hadn't had anything to do back then, and now all he wanted to do was play guitar.

"Maybe Divination too," he said thoughtfully.

"You can't drop two," Albus reminded him. "Your Dad has to think you're doing at least two that don't include Muggle Studies, remember?"

Scorpius sighed. He really didn't want to drop Muggle Studies. In the end he decided on Ancient Runes. He disliked it less than Divination, but there was more homework and Professor Warren would probably be less offended than Professor Trelawny. People had been dropping out of his class all year.

-*~R~*-

The Slytherins had been mostly avoiding the Ravenclaws, for which everyone was thankful, but one week in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor Tufty partnered Rose with Jian. The boys looked at her sympathetically, and she rolled her eyes at them. She was good at Defence Against the Dark Arts. She wasn't worried.

Jian had grown a lot over the holidays, towering over the rest of them, even the girls. He didn't make so much as a single facial expression as they turned to face each other.

It was a speed challenge. They stood facing each other in a silence full of tension until Tufty shouted "DRAW", and they pulled their wands, aiming to be the first to disarm the other. Rose won the first two rounds, and she could see Jian getting red in the face with annoyance.

"Think you're good, don't you Weasley," he snarled at her when Tufty had turned her back.

She stared at him in surprise. "There's no need to be rude," she told him, in her best impression of her mother's 'you're-being-a-baby' tone. "You just need to practice more."

He went, if possible, even redder. It did not suit him. "You three think you're all right, always 'top of the year'," he muttered. "Anything you're not good at?"

"Putting up with little boys making stupid faces at me?" Rose suggested. She had had enough of him - she hadn't forgotten that he had nearly killed Scorpius the year before through idiocy and cowardice. She didn't plan on being the one to bring that up, though, since she was above such petty bickering.

"DRAW!"

Rose pulled her wand, but her thoughts had momentarily distracted her, and Jian was yelling already. Rose felt her body being pulled tightly in on itself and she fell backwards, hitting her head on someone's leg as she went down.

"MR CHUNG! That is enough, THANK YOU!"

"Rose! Rosie, you okay?" Albus was there, and she tried to say that she was okay, but couldn't move her mouth. She couldn't move anything. She started to panic and struggled frantically against whatever was holding her, but it was like being paralysed.

"Finite petrificus!" she heard as if from far away.

Suddenly she could move again. She took a deep breath, even though she hadn't been unable to breathe. She felt herself go limp against Albus' chest. "Ow," she said softly.

"Well done, Mr Malfoy," Tufty was saying. She had Jian held firmly by the shoulder. "Mr Chung, my office please, I trust you remember where that is. Wait for me there and do not touch anything."

Albus helped her to sit up and she rubbed her eyes. It all felt very strange.

"Of all the bloody dangerous things," Tufty was muttering. "Listen you lot, I know you think that Petrifying someone is a fun joke, but I've seen people die from headwounds after falling on stone or a sharp edge, which you might notice this classroom is full of," she said exasperatedly. "Ten points to Ravenclaw for knowing the countercurse, Mr Malfoy."

Scorpius wasn't listening, Rose noticed as she looked up at him. He was looking down at her, and he was angry.

"Miss Weasley?"

"Hm?" she turned back to Professor Tufty.

"Are you all right? Do you need the hospital wing?"

"Oh, no Professor. I'm all right... just a bit surprised, is all."

"Well, consider it a lesson in when your opponent doesn't fight fair. Take your seats please, the practical is over for today."

"That BASTARD!" Albus raged when they had helped her back to Ravenclaw Tower. She didn't think she actually needed help, but they had insisted on flanking her the entire way back.

"I'll kill him," Scorpius said darkly. His frank, quiet statement was a lot more worrying than Albus' anger, though in other circumstances it would have been funny, coming from a boy who probably didn't come up to Jian's chin in height.

"I'll help," Albus agreed vehemently. "Do you know how to get into Slytherin?"

"No.."

"I bet Dad knows - I could owl him and ask, and then we'll go down there and bloody smother him."

"I'd prefer to hex off some part of his body," Scorpius replied. "Like some bit he really needs."

Albus' answering grin was enough to make Rose shiver. "Stop it," she told them firmly. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, but you might not have been," Albus told her. Scorpius nodded quickly in agreement.

"It was just a stupid joke. Anyway I bet he loses points. You know Slytherin was mad at him for months after they lost the House Cup last year."

"He won't lose two hundred points all by himself this time," Albus muttered. "And his mates will back him up. Can't believe he keeps thinking he'll get away with it."

"One day he'll do something worse and he will get away with it," said Scorpius. "Just wait."

"You two are driving me mad," Rose groaned. "I'm too tired to spend all night stopping you plotting revenge on Jian. Let's do something else."

"Homework?" Albus suggested dimly.

"No, that's not nearly distracting enough." Rose turned to Scorpius and gave him a little smile. "Play us something."

"What?" he gave her a slightly panicked look.

"Go on. You're always shut up in the dormitory, and I've barely heard you. Al says you're getting good."

"Oh really?" Scorpius turned to Albus enquiringly.

"I might have said that you're not as godawful as when you started," his friend admitted grudgingly.

"Please?" Rose begged.

Scorpius looked around. "But there are people here," he protested.

"So?"

"So? I can't play in front of people! It's embarrassing."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Oh fine. Your dormitory, then."

"You know you're not actually allowed in there," said her cousin. She glared at him.

"Who cares? Come on."

She practically had to drag them up the stairs to the third-year boys dormitory. Scorpius drew his guitar out of its case and sat on his bed, looking extremely self-conscious to the point where she almost felt bad for doing this to him. "What should I play?" he asked.

"Whatever you want," she said, sitting next to Albus on his bed. Peter and Gaius were both out, and it was pleasantly quiet in here after the noise of the common room. "Something we know."

He plucked at a few notes, making a face. "None of them are much good."

"Don't care. Play."

Albus snickered. "Go on mate, before she starts rapping your knuckles with a ruler."

"That's pianos, idiot," she told him, giving him a shove.

"Fine, but if you laugh," Scorpius warned. "I won't ever do this again."

Rose watched his fingers for a moment as they found their place on the strings. Once he started playing though, she found her eyes drawn to his face, his eyes narrowed in concentration. She watched in fascination as he began to sing, his voice a little shaky with nerves and onset adolescence.

I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played, and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do you?

It goes like this

The fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you

She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne, and she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

And now there was a change in him, as though he forgot they were sitting there and played now only for himself, for the sake of the music rather than his audience. His voice evened out and his playing was smoother, and the whole thing was somehow... beautiful.

Baby I have been here before

I know this room, I've walked this floor

I used to live alone before I knew you.

I've seen your flag on the marble arch

Love is not a victory march

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time when you let me know

What's really going on below

But now you never show it to me, do you?

And remember when I moved in you

The holy dove was moving too

And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe there's a God above

But all I've ever learned from love

Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you

It's not a cry you can hear at night

It's not somebody who has seen the light

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Rose let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding as the last notes faded away. "Wow," she said softly. "That was great."

"Yeah, not bad mate," Albus said, grinning. "Knew you'd pick it up. You sound better than James ever did trying to play that thing."

Scorpius smiled.

-*~A~*-

The very last game of the season was Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor for the second year in a row. Both teams had crushed Hufflepuff and Slytherin had lost to Gryffindor by just ten points, which meant that Ravenclaw just needed thirty to win. Liam looked more determined than the team had ever seen him during the pre-match pep talk.

"Last year was a close call," he reminded them all bleakly. "Their side is stronger than ever, you all know that. But we're good too, guys. Slytherin thought they had us and we turned the tables on them. And that's what we're going to do this time, yeah?"

Albus watched with clenched jaw from the reserve stands as the team kicked off. He saw his brother James in Gryffindor red, zooming up to hover above the pitch, and Liam followed him, a streak of blue.

"Ravenclaw in possession," announced the commentator, a sixth year Hufflepuff called Will Laurence. "Ravenclaw currently thirty points behind Gryffindor in the tournament, but a very impressive side this year, Gryffindor playing for their sixth Quidditch Cup in a row, both teams have had significant turnover since last year but going strong, and both Seekers of course from professional Quidditch playing families! And Jenna Lee puts one away, making it ten-zero to Ravenclaw! Gryffindor with the Quaffle now - now Ravenclaw - no, a Bludger sent by Fred Weasley almost puts Lee out of play there, and... Gryffindor score! Score is now ten-all, Ravenclaw have the Quaffle..."

Rose nudged him, and Albus realised he was tapping his foot nervously. "Sorry," he muttered automatically, not taking his eyes off the game as the score continued to climb, his eyes open wide as they searched for the Snitch. They had to win by at least thirty points, but that was nothing as long as Liam got the Snitch, as long as Gryffindor didn't get too far ahead.

Fifty all. Sixty all. Seventy. It was clear that the teams were very evenly matched. Ravenclaw's Chasers were perhaps better, but Gryffindor's Beaters, especially Fred Weasley, were relentless, slamming the Bludgers with consistent accuracy towards their opponent.

Suddenly a movement at the far end of the pitch drew Albus' attention. Two players had almost simultaneously started streaking across the pitch, one in red, and one in blue.

"The Seekers have spotted the Snitch!" gasped Laurence gleefully. "And the chase is on between Potter and Ryan, neck and neck as they head for the goal posts - it's Potter - no, Ryan, Ryan in the lead for a Ravenclaw win - oh bloody- !"

The announcer's next words were lost in the roar from the crowd as a Bludger went cannoning into the end of Liam's broom. Liam was hurled off, twisting through the air before colliding with a goalpost, which twanged nastily.

"Liam!" Albus shouted helplessly, getting to his feet to see as Madam Hooch's levitation spell caught the seventh-year before he hit the ground, and Madam Pomfrey came hurrying over.

"Looks like our Head Boy is out of play, ladies and gentlemen," said Laurence to a groan from the Ravenclaw stands. "Time out, play resumes in ten minutes provided Ravenclaw have a reserve Seeker..."

"Al, that's you!" Rose was poking him in the shoulder. "Go on!"

"But, Liam..." Albus stared at her blankly.

"Madam Pomfrey will look after him, you have to go before we forfeit!"

Albus finally realised what she was talking about, blinked, and set off down the stairs, only half-hearing the shouts of encouragement from the Ravenclaws around him, and the booing from the Gryffindor stands as he emerged onto the pitch, carrying his broom in a death grip.

The team was waiting for him, looking dejected. The new Chaser, Jenna, offered him a weak smile. "Try and catch it fast," she suggested. He nodded as the rest of the team gave him silent pats on the back.

"Hey, Al." The Gryffindor team were also on the ground, and one of them was approaching. James offered his hand. "I won't go easy on you," he warned, grinning.

"You better not," Albus replied, shaking the offered hand.

"A brotherly handshake there as third-year Albus Potter takes the field for Ravenclaw!" Laurence's voice came booming over the pitch. "I'm sure one of you Quidditch nuts out there will know if this is a Hogwarts first - rival sibling Seekers! And they're in the air again - Gryffindor with the Quaffle and, yes, they've put it away! Ninety-seventy to Gryffindor, let's hope morale hasn't totally gone out of the Ravenclaw team at the loss of their captain!"

It seemed that it had, however. Gryffindor scored more and more goals until they were dangerously close to being a hundred and twenty points ahead, which meant that even if Ravenclaw caught the Snitch, they would draw for the cup.

Albus stayed high above the pitch, scanning the whole area for the snitch. A few times he darted forward only to find he had been chasing a reflection of the sun off a goalpost.

The crowd roared - Gryffindor had reached their hundred and twenty point lead . Heart pounding, Albus looked around for James. His brother was circling the Ravenclaw goalposts. Al started to fly towards him, thinking that he could at least knock him off his broom if he saw the Snitch, at least to stop him until there was a chance...

He blinked. There was a flash of gold somewhere below him. He didn't stop, but kept flying for a few yards before doing a leisurely turn and raking the ground with his eyes. Yes, that was definitely the little golden ball this time, fluttering teasingly close to the grass. But he mustn't catch it yet! He had to wait until they had enough points...

He looked over his shoulder and felt his heart plummet as he saw James go into a forward dive.

"Potter's seen the Snitch!" yelled the announcer.

Albus dove. He was closer, much closer, so that the dive was practically vertical, but the difficult angle meant he had to try a lot harder to stay on his broom, and James, doing a longer but much shallower dive, had the advantage of seeing the right way up, and James' broom was newer, faster, but all Albus had to do was block him until -

"RAVENCLAW SCORE!" shouted Laurence, almost shrieking with excitement. "It's anyone's game now, ladies and gentlemen, both Potters are flying for the Snitch - look at that! Have you ever seen flying like that?"

It was the fastest, sharpest, most terrifying dive Albus could ever remember doing in his life. The ground was coming up so fast it seemed as though it were moving of its own accord. The Snitch buzzed around the grass, he could practically feel James breathing down his neck. He heard a Bludger whistle past his ear and the crowd screamed, the air tore past his face as he reached out a hand and pulled up not a second too soon.

He could hear James swearing as he settled his broom with shaking knees, the feathers of the little ball's wings brushing weakly against his hand.

Then the rest of the team were landing around him, pulling him off his broom and patting him madly on the back. It wasn't until someone handed him the enormous Quidditch cup that he realised they had won. He grinned and held the cup up high as the crowd roared.

-~*R*~-

It was a good day, that was for sure. It ended with a very un-Ravenclaw-like party in the Common Room, where Albus was the hero of the hour. Liam, released from the Hospital Wing the next day, was even gracious about it, though everyone could sense his disappointment at not being able to finish his last game. Still, he had NEWTs to worry about, and everyone else had exams, as well.

Scorpius did not, Rose noticed, revise quite as much as he had in previous years, to the point where she beat him to top of the year in Potions. He merely shrugged when this was tentatively brought up, however.

"Won't your father be disappointed?" she asked nervously. He had always worried about that before.

"Maybe, if he even reads my results," he said. He was more disappointed with his results in Muggle Studies, having only got eighty five percent in the written exam.

"Professor Clearwater says some things are especially hard for wizard-borns to understand," he sighed as they sat together in the sunshine-soaked grounds. "And the only way to really grasp it is to spend some time in the Muggle world. Like that's ever going to happen."

"Maybe we could fly to the nearest Muggle town," Albus grinned mischeviously. "And leave you there for a bit."

"Very funny," said Rose. "You just have to wait till you're a bit older and you can go where you like. We'll take you into Muggle London!

He brightened up a bit at this. "I'd like that."

"Yeah, take him to the Apple store," Albus snickered. "He'd never leave."

Scorpius gave Rose his iPod again before they went home, though he left his guitar under the bed in the dormitory after begging some House Elves to look after it. He was miserable for the whole train ride back to King's Cross, and Rose struggled to come up with a way to cheer him. They said goodbye on the train to avoid any unpleasantness like the year before. Rose sniffled a little as they disembarked, Midnight perching proudly on her shoulder.

"Don't cry," Albus told her. "It's only three months."

Rose was about to reply but they were quickly set upon by their family, everyone wanting to congratulate Albus on his Quidditch win. James, she noticed, looked rather sour about this.

"How was your term, dear?" asked her mother, hugging her tightly as Midnight protested at being squashed.

"Fine," she replied. She just wished it didn't seem so long until the next one.

Chapter Text

2020

~*-S-*~

Scorpius had almost forgotten about the new house that had been promised in his mother's Christmas letter until he and Goyle Portkeyed to an out-of-the-way corner of a Parisian street. He stared up at the house the big man pointed to. "They can't afford that!" he couldn't stop himself saying.

Goyle only grunted and carried Scorpius' trunk bodily up the stairs, muscles bulging under his robes. Scorpius hurried after him, opening his eyes wide in the dimly-lit hallway. It was very bare, the old wood floors quite clear of furniture, but the ceilings were very high, giving it the impression of elegance. Still, it needed some pictures on the wall or something.

There didn't seem to be anyone at home, at first. Goyle dumped his trunk at the bottom of the stairs, puffing with the effort. "Your room is third on the right," he told Scorpius, sneering. "Need help with it?"

"No thanks," Scorpius said quickly. He'd rather not have Goyle anywhere near his room. The older he got, the more the man spent a chill up his spine just by looking at him.

"Your father wants see you in his study when you're changed," Goyle told him, startling him a little. It was like he was a servant. Scorpius knew his father was used to having servants, but he had imagined Goyle more on the lines of a colleague. Not a very respected colleague… but then again, his father had a knack for making weak-minded people behave the way he wanted them to.

Scorpius levitated his trunk up the stairs and eventually found his bedroom. The few books he had left behind last summer were on the shelf, which was basically the only clue. The bed had black sheets and a dark green coverlet. He wrinkled his nose at it - house pride uncharacteristically rearing its head - and pulled off his school robes.

It took him a while to find anything to wear that his father wouldn't turn his nose up at. He had grown enough that even his newest robes didn't fit him properly, and he regretted not buying something during the last Hogsmeade weekend. Eventually he found a pair of trousers and a shirt, quite informal by his father's standards but at least not too ill-fitting. He washed and put them on, mainly wanting to go to bed after the long train journey. He wondered how he would sleep without listening to music, first.

Before he went downstairs, he looked around for a good hiding place. There were a few things he had really needed to bring home, like his Muggle Studies books. He had no doubt of what would happen if he was caught with them, and they were borrowed. He couldn't afford for them to be destroyed. He eventually charmed up the bottom of the big wardrobe in the corner and stuffed them into the small space that opened up beneath. It was quite handy, so he put a couple of other things in there as well, for safe keeping. The little pouch of Muggle money Albus had leant him again. The novelty Ravenclaw socks Rose had got him for his birthday. He wasn't sure if he would actually get in trouble for those things, but better safe than sorry.

He had to wander around a bit before he found the study, knocking on doors until he heard his father's sharp voice say "come!"

He opened the door to see the man reading something at his desk. He looked different. In the year since Scorpius had last seen him, he seemed to have come out of the shell of self-pity he had been wallowing in ever since his son could remember. He looked bright eyed, determined, focused. So focused that he didn't even look up when Scorpius entered the room.

"Father?" Scorpius said, more to encourage a reaction than anything else. The man gestured to a chair without looking up.

Scorpius sat, looking around at the room. It was big, like the others, tall, long and narrow. There was a bookcase that seemed to be more for show than any actual use, and a desk covered in drawers that he was sure would be magically locked. It was that sort of desk. His father was wearing robes of a dark green that was almost black, with silver and gold embroidery at the collar. Put together, the scene was almost opulent. Scorpius started to wonder if there was some secret family money he hadn't known about that hadn't been used to pay fines and debts after the war. Maybe his grandparents had died and this was his father's inheritance? It seemed a likelier explanation than the alternative: that his father had somehow bought this house, the furniture and the new robes with legitimate earnings.

His father finally looked up from his parchment, folding it and pushing it aside. He met Scorpius' eyes and frowned.

"Your hair is a mess."

Scorpius forced himself not to move a finger. His mother usually cut his hair the second he got home, but he had forgotten about it in the confusion of navigating the new house. "Sorry," he said, not feeling particularly apologetic. A 'hello' might have been nice, he thought bitterly. It's only been nine months or so since you've seen me.

"I trust you have made yourself at home," his father continued. "We will have dinner in the dining room at seven."

"Where's mother?" Scorpius asked, struck suddenly with the realisation that he hadn't seen her.

His father's expression darkened considerably. "Your mother insists on continuing to... attend the apothecary," he said, as if the word 'work' was too difficult to pronounce. "It was my error in agreeing to it in the first place, perhaps."

Scorpius had planned on asking if he could go back to the Moulin, if they would have him, or find work somewhere else, more for something to do than any real desire for money, but now thought better of it.

"And how were your exams?" his father asked now.

"Fine."

"Good. I will read your results later. I expect you to maintain a high standard."

"Yes father."

There was a pause in the conversation while the man gave his son a searching look. Scorpius did his best to sit still and straight-faced. "Very well," he said eventually. "I will see you at dinner."

Scorpius was about to get up to leave, but something stopped him. "Father?"

"Yes?" Draco raised a pale eyebrow.

"I… was just wondering… this house… wasn't it terribly expensive?"

For a moment, there was no reaction, and Scorpius thought his heart must have stopped, and all of time with it. Then a smile spread slowly across Draco's face. It was weird, and it was not a nice smile, it verged on the edge of being a sneer. "Yes," was the answer when it finally came. "Yes it was."

"But… the debts…"

"You are too young to be concerning yourself with financial matters," his father snapped, the smile vanishing as unexpectedly as it had appeared. "My business has been very successful over the last few months. We should be considerably more comfortable from now on, and that is all you need to know."

Scorpius decided he had pushed his luck far enough. He made his exit, and closed the door quietly behind him.

His mother returned only just before the agreed dinner hour, and was almost as undemonstrative as his father had been. "How was school?" she asked, without much interest, and didn't seem to listen when he gave her the very abbreviated version. She hid it well, but he caught her occasionally staring at a point above his head and nodding in the wrong places.

The dinner itself was almost completely silent and extremely uncomfortable. Scorpius, picking unenthusiastically at his food, found himself wondering what his friends would be doing, their first night home. He knew they usually went to their grandparents' house for dinner, five or six families all squashed in together. Jealously he imagined them talking and laughing and sharing stories over a feast, while he sat here in a dimly-lit, ominously bare room with parents who would speak neither to him nor each other.

He excused himself as soon as he could and fled back to his bedroom. After five minutes of lying on his bed, digesting the disappointing nature of the evening, he pulled out his notebook from the hole he'd made in the wardrobe and started scribbling furiously. After a while the disjointed and angry half-sentences became lines, as a rhythm flowed through his imagination and onto the page.

I hate where I'm at

Acting crazy like that

I know that I've been wrong

It's something I've been working on

And I don't know what to do

It's changing me, it's killing you

I'd tear out my insides if I could

But I don't know if it'd do me good

I can't stand what I'm feeling

It's just like poison in my veins

I know that I'm speaking

But I don't know what I'm saying

Cause every time that I feel like the world just got lighter

It seems like my muscles give out

It's got nothing to do with me

It's not even you, you see

It's part of my chemistry

It's this jealousy...

Eventually he went to bed, exhausted after the train ride and using all his willpower not to scream for the whole evening. He could only hope the summer couldn't possibly get any worse.

As it turned out, Mr Malfoy was distracted enough by his work - Scorpius still couldn't quite figure what this entailed, except that it involved buying and selling, and occasionally men in broad-rimmed hats who met with his father for hours in the study - to pay any attention whatsoever to what his son did during the day. He didn't even blow up at Scorpius when he saw his exam results. He seemed to put the blame on the Hogwarts teachers, instead.

"Incompetent fools," he muttered, tossing the parchment aside. "Perhaps we should reconsider Durmstrang."

Scorpius replied quickly that he was happy at Hogwarts thanks, and promised to do better next year. His father merely grunted and dismissed him. Even this brief interaction, however, was more enjoyable than the boredom. His father was always in the study, his mother in the town. The only other one around was Goyle, and he was not that desperate. A maid brought his meals to his room, but she was haughty and distant, and he gave up trying to get to know her after a few attempts at conversation.

He refused to start his homework on the first day, but moped around instead, writing and drawing (badly) in his notebook. On the second day he lounged around in bed in as late as he could stand before grudgingly making a start on his Transfiguration essay. With nothing else to do, all his homework was done after a week.

After a few more days of sitting in the empty house by himself, he was bored enough to risk leaving the house to walk around the town. He didn't bother to ask permission. His father wouldn't notice he was gone, and there was always the real possibility that he might say no. The only problem was, he didn't really know where they were. He fretted about that for a while before deciding that the only way to figure it out was to explore a little.

He snuck out of the back door, wearing his least wizardly clothes, and after strolling to the end of the street, found himself at the entrance to the Rue Chouette. He looked behind him and realised that his parents' townhouse was one of the few located in wizarding Paris, surrounding the main shopping street. He whistled. Despite the lack of furniture and decoration, it seemed that his family had come into some serious money.

His first stop was the restaurant, of course. He had spent so much time there last summer that his feet found their way there automatically. It was still early, but a lot of the waiters he knew were already there, setting up for lunch, and they greeted him cheerily. "I will tell Monsieur Gerard you are back," the head waiter said to him in French, smiling. "Our current serveur is not very good."

Scorpius felt flattered, and stopped himself at the last moment from saying that he couldn't work this summer. After all, his father hadn't actually forbidden it, right? Would he even notice if Scorpius went out for a few hours each day? After a short consideration, he told the waiter he would be pleased if he would give Gerard the news, and went back to the street, where he spent a peaceful afternoon in the sunshine, window-shopping.

In the end it was easier than he thought. His parents ate dinner in their own private rooms, and apparently expected him to do the same except on special occasions. The haughty maid - having servants was extremely uncomfortable but at least, in this case, convenient - was easily bribed with a share in his pay. After a while he started leaving the house even on days when he didn't have to work. He had to be careful only to avoid his mother, who worked on the same street, but apart from that it was child's play to sneak out of the house and back in again through his window.

Being at the restaurant again felt much more like being home than sitting alone in the new house. He deliberately wore himself out, moving quickly between tables and dashing back to the kitchen with piles of dirty plates during service and fetching and carrying dozens of things the waiters or kitchen staff needed. Most of the washing was done by magic, but he helped where he could, and hardly ever used his own wand despite the laws in France that allowed him to do so with supervision. By the time he got home he was exhausted enough that it didn't matter that he had no Albus to joke with, no Rose to tell him funny stories, and no music to listen to as he fell asleep. He just closed his eyes and woke again the next morning, and if he dreamed, he didn't remember it.

After a few weeks of this madness, however, this routine was starting to chafe. He decided to dare himself to try ducking into Muggle Paris again.

He didn't dare go too far, but he walked unobtrusively through some of the shops, trying not to stare too much at the people, the pictures that didn't move, or products that he had never seen before. There were a lot of elderly women on this side of the street where he wandered, and after a few days of this wandering they began talking to him. He made up a story about visiting from the country and making himself busy while his parents worked. Some of them were enchanted by his interest in music, and made suggestions of what he might listen to, he if he had the time. They talked about a big shop on the far side of the city where they sold music and musical instruments. He wished he could risk going there. It sounded like heaven.

There was nothing to write to his friends about, and they didn't send him anything. He had told them not to, just in case, unless he wrote to them first. But he hung around the post office for a bit, just so he could say his understanding of the system had improved. He took two tentative steps inside a Muggle bar, but thought better of it when he encountered an enormously muscled and tattooed man who asked him for a light. After that, he stuck to the little shops, on the one or two more occasions he found himself on the Muggle side of town.

It wasn't a bad summer after all, he decided, the week before school was about to start. By now he had a tidy little amount of pocket money saved up, after the maid's cut, and he didn't think his Muggle Studies books would be a problem this year, or even the next. He might even be able to afford some decent Christmas presents, for once.

He had taken the risk today of staying out quite late, since it didn't seem to matter what time he came back. He was just about to go home when he spotted a blonde woman just down the street, and recognised his mother. He hissed in surprise and ducked behind a wall. This is it, he thought miserably. I'm done. It's over. I'll be locked in my room for the rest of my life.

But after a minute, when he risked a peek around the wall, his mother was walking in the opposite direction, towards the Apothecary. A bit late for work, he thought. The shop closed at eight, and it was gone eleven now.

He waited until she had gone inside and then, curiously, and knowing he could quite well live to regret it later, he walked quietly up to the dark-windowed building. He had been in there once or twice before, to buy Potions supplies, and he had met the Apothecary, Monsieur Belanger, a big, dark-haired man. The building looked much more ominous in the dark - the contents of the bottles and jars in the windows either too dark to see or glowing eerily .

He crept up to the back door, which was standing slightly ajar where Mrs Malfoy had gone in. By standing quite close to the gap, he could hear low, murmuring voices. Curiouser than ever, he held his breath and gently pushed the door forward a few more crucial inches until he could take a step into the hall. He could see the main shop floor ahead of him, but the voices were coming from a back room nearby. He stood as still as possible and strained his ears. He recognised his mother's voice straight away.

"Of course I'm sure," she was saying, a strange, nervous tone in her voice. "Draco and I haven't... we've slept in separate rooms since we moved to town."

"Very well zen." this was the deep, sonorous voice of the Apothecary, his English heavily accented. "Vot will you tell heem?"

"Nothing, not yet, anyway. Until I have a chance to... correct the situation."

There was a momentary silence, followed by a low murmur from Belanger that Scorpius did not catch, except that it sounded angry.

"Well, what do you expect me to do?" Astoria snapped, and Scorpius almost flinched. "If he found out, the best thing he would do to me is throw me out of the house."

"And would that be so bad?" replied Belanger in French, forcing Scorpius to pause his brain momentarily in order to switch languages. "I thought you hated him."

"He is my husband," Astoria hissed back, her French slightly less flowing than his. "And if he disowned me, my family would do the same. I would have nothing. And there's my son..."

Scorpius bit his lip hard, his mind racing. What could his mother have done that was so terrible his father would disown her? And why was she talking to Belanger about it?

The Apothocary said something else low and unintelligible, and then there was a strange noise, and his mother gasped sharply. Scorpius took a step forward and peered carefully around the door to the back room. His mother was sitting on the edge of a tall wooden workbench. Belanger was standing very, very close to her. And -

Scorpius drew back, quickly, hurried back down the hall and out of the door. Aware that he hadn't been nearly as quiet on the way out as on the way in, he kept running until he was at the very end of the Rue. Here he stopped to catch his breath, and looked back. No one was following him.

He had been kissing her! The tall, dark Belanger had been kissing his mother!

Questions began immediately to race through his mind. How long had this been happening? How far had it gone? Who else knew about it?

Were they in love?

The thought of his father's reaction made his blood suddenly run cold. No wonder she was so afraid of him finding out! Privately, Scorpius thought that his father wouldn't stop at throwing her out of the house. He might actually hurt her. He shivered miserably at this thought.

His mind still racing, he made his way quickly back to the house and climbed back in the window. No one noticed him come in - the house was dark, quiet. His mind still racing, he went to bed, but could not sleep. His mind kept replaying the scene, over and over.

Eventually he heard soft footsteps up the stairs - his mother, coming home. He lay very still and tried to calm his breathing as the steps stopped outside his door. A shaft of dim light fell across his face as the door opened slightly. Scorpius could feel his heart pounding. He was sure she knew he had followed her. But after a second, the door closed again, and the footsteps moved away down the hall, towards his father's bedroom.

~*-A-*~

"So," Albus asked Scorpius when they met on the train on September the first. "Good summer?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Fine. Yours?"

"Great!" Rose said cheerfully. "We went to the zoo in London for Lily's birthday, and it was actually really interesting, I've never been before. And Uncle Charlie was visiting from Romania and he took us to see the dragon museum in Edinburgh!"

"Cool," said Scorpius, flatly. His voice had finally broken, not as deep as Al's but a kind of soft tenor, and his French accent had faded to where it was quite inaudible unless you really listened. He didn't seem to have gained any height at all, however, to the point where Albus almost felt like he was towering over his friend, even sitting.

"Manage to keep your books and stuff safe then?" Albus asked. "I guessed you did or you would have owled me."

"Yeah fine," he replied. "Found a neat hiding place in my new room."

Albus frowned. Scorpius seemed in an even worse mood than he had been after last summer. Rose started asking about the new house, and Scorpius replied in short, non-committal sentences. Albus knew his friend struggled with balancing his family life with his Hogwarts friends. He couldn't imagine not being able to talk to either of his parents about anything that happened at school.

"So, I guess you're official Ravenclaw Seeker now," Scorpius said when the opportunity to change the subject finally presented itself.

"I s'pose," Albus said, with a little jolt of nervous energy as he remembered. "Unless someone better tries out."

Rose blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Right, like that'll ever happen. We'll have to be prepared to be background noise from now on, Scorp, now that that Al's the hero of Ravenclaw house."

Scorpius snorted as Albus felt his cheeks burn. "Everyone will have forgotten by now," he said, with certainty.

"A catch like that? No one's ever going to forget that. Even James was impressed, even if he won't admit it," Rose scoffed. "And he's starting his NEWTs this year, so maybe he'll be distracted from Quidditch."

Albus shot her a look that embodied all his feelings behind the sentiment, 'not bloody likely'.

For the most part, the start of fourth year seemed to go incredibly quickly. Lessons began as normal, with apparently impossible new material to learn and twice as much homework as before, but which after a few weeks became part of the routine again. A few weeks after term started, a feud kicked up between the fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, which the Ravenclaws couldn't help feeling glad about, as it kept Jian's attention away from them. Rose started to suggest that maybe they ought to do something about it.

"Let them fight it out," Albus shrugged after a particularly vicious Potions class which had seen the Gryffindors come to dinner with green feathers sprouting from under their clothes, and more than one of the Slytherins looking pale after spending an hour in the hospital wing as elderly Madam Pomfrey attempted to stanch the flow of blood from their hexed noses. "They seem to enjoy it so much."

Albus found himself thinking mostly about Quidditch, which wasn't really a surprise. The Ravenclaw team this year was hopelessly unbalanced, consisting of one sixth year, two fifth years, two third years, and two fourth years: Rose, and Albus himself. The new captain, the sixth year, wasn't nearly as good as Liam had been, with the result that they lost their first game of the season, against Gryffindor, 240 to 30. Albus was in so much despair over the score that he didn't even notice the Snitch until it was too late. James took the opportunity to gloat over this for weeks afterwards.

Although Rose was a full member of the team now, she was not nearly as disappointed by this crushing defeat as Albus was. While she had inherited the Weasley talent for Quidditch, she was sadly lacking in the maniacal enthusiasm that was the curse of most of the family. "It's just a game," she kept reminding him whenever he went off into a sulk. "We'll do better next time." Then she went back to whatever book she was reading, or essay she was writing. She seemed to spend most of her time doing homework.

Scorpius, by contrast, was paying less and less attention to his studies as he spent more and more time playing his guitar. The first night in the dormitory that year, Albus thought his friend might try to sleep with the thing. Albus had to admit that he was getting pretty good, but Rose was less than impressed when he actually failed to show up for Defence Against the Dark Arts one day.

"I just wanted to finish the song," he explained meekly, when she rounded on him that evening.

"You missed a class!" she exclaimed, so loudly that people in the Common Room turned round to see what was happening. "I had to lie to Professor Tufty and say you weren't feeling well."

"Er... thanks." Albus could have told him that was a mistake, but he had no opportunity.

"Don't thank me!" Rose squeaked, her face turning a dangerous shade of red. Albus, giving his friend up for lost, made a show of unpacking his homework from his bag. "I can't believe you skipped class just to mess around on that stupid instrument!"

Albus winced inwardly and risked a glance upward. Scorpius looked rather hurt, and Albus didn't really blame him.

"Sorry," he muttered, not meeting Rose's eyes. "Won't happen again."

"Well I should think not." Rose sat defiantly in an armchair and pulled out her own homework. "Here's the Charms essay we're meant to do. I hope you at least did the reading."

The look on Scorpius' face prompted Albus to interrupt before his friend made the fatal mistake of telling the truth. "What were you playing anyway? Did you get a new book?"

Scorpius flushed. "Er no. I'm sort of writing something."

Rose harrumphed and tossed her hair, though Albus could tell she was trying not to look interested. "Yeah? Can we hear it?" he asked.

"Not yet," Scorpius said quickly. "It still needs polishing. Anyway I probably should do some work for a bit."

Unfortunately this only satisfied Rose for a few days, and Albus soon became tired of his two friends arguing all the time. Usually Scorpius had the sense to mollify Rose with a promise to do better, but her constant reminders eventually culminated in a row, a few weeks before the Christmas holidays. Rose's cat Midnight, who had been dozing on the arm of a sofa, got up and left in indignation at all the noise.

"It's not as if anyone cares how I do in exams!" Scorpius snapped. "I don't see why you should care more than my own parents."

"Well someone has to!" Rose replied exasperatedly. "Anyway the teachers will notice if you fall really far behind."

"I won't fall behind, I'm not an idiot," he shot back. "I can catch up over Christmas, its not like I've got anything else to do while I'm here by myself."

Albus winced as his friend stormed up the stairs to their dormitory. "He always says he doesn't mind," he said.

"Of course he minds," Rose snapped, rounding on him. "You would mind if your family didn't want to have you back for the holidays."

Albus stared at her. "If you know how he feels, why are you shouting at him?"

Rose didn't seem to have any answer to this, but merely glared at him and returned to doing her Potions homework.

Because it was so hard to concentrate while the tension between them was so difficult to deal with, Al started coming up with excuses to do his homework in the library instead of the Common Room. With Quidditch, he really didn't have the time to get distracted. Unfortunately, the library eventually presented another distraction in the form of the fourth year Slytherins, who had apparently given up their feud with the Gryffindors in favour of lounging around in armchairs, pretending to read. Instead they spoke to each other in sneering tones about people they looked down on, the list of which seemed to be growing longer by the day. One of the Gryffindors in particular, Warren, was one of their favourite subjects. That boy had grown about a foot and a half over the summer and at the age of fourteen was almost as tall as Firenze the centaur.

"Bet his mum had a dalliance with a giant," Albus heard Jian mutter one afternoon. "Or a half-giant - perhaps he's secretly the spawn of Hagrid."

"Great Gryffindor oaf." That was Carcer, a boy who while not as intelligently mean as Jian, was certainly catching up to him in terms of general nastiness. Both boys were thin and tall, but Carcer was snow-pale where Jian was dark, and while Jian had a princely sort of look about him and always had, Carcer had a mouth that was too big for his face, eyes that were too heavily lidded and a forehead so huge that it rendered most of his other features obsolete. Albus wondered that he had the gall to go about criticising anyone else's looks. The other two Slytherin boys, Daws and Sutton, were unremarkable by comparison, but just as unpleasant to listen to.

"Is Hagrid a giant?" Daws asked, while Albus made every attempt to tune them out in favour of his Charms assignment.

Jian laughed. "Oh come on. You'd have to be blind not to notice. No one can get that big without being at least part giant."

"And they let him teach here?" Sutton sneered.

"Oh, for years and years. Did you know he never even did his NEWTS or OWLs? He was expelled in his third year. I heard him telling someone, when they were whining about passing their exams. I'm not surprised if he's not even human…"

At this point, Albus had had enough. "Watch your mouth," he growled.

There was a brief, surprised silence from the group, as though they hadn't realised anyone could hear them. Then Jian laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry Potter, is the old mutant man your friend?"

Al put down his quill and glared up at them across the tables. "Actually he's more of an honorary uncle, if you must know. So you just shut up about him."

Jian nodded. "That's right, I forgot your family has a soft spot for freaks of nature."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"House Elves, werewolves, centaurs… are there any creatures they don't like, Potter? My family used to have two House Elves before your aunt decided they had to have rights and pay. And didn't your father sign that ridiculous edict that allows werewolves to come to Hogwarts? There could be dozens of them here now, for all we know. But then, most werewolves are Muggles, aren't they? Good thing too, wouldn't want them breeding with wizards, we'd end up with a whole mutant race. Mind you, by the look of your bushy-haired cousin, there already is one - is someone in your family perhaps a night troll?"

Albus drew his wand and stood up, a fiery red anger fully taking over. "Say that again," he hissed.

Jian had drawn his wand and was standing gracefully, a look of utter contempt on his face. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said condescendingly. "My deepest apologies for any offence."

"Chung, you can take your damn apology and stick it up -"

"Now now, let's not say anything we'll regret," Jian was smiling, and Albus belatedly realised he had started a fight with four boys, not just one. All the other Slytherins had their wands in their hands.

"What'll you do?" Albus muttered. "Lock me in a room full of Dungbombs and let me suffocate to death?"

Jian rolled his eyes. "You're still going on about that? Ancient history."

"You were the ones who lost four hundred points. You'd think you'd have learned by now not to mess with Ravenclaws, Chung."

"Malfoy is a rat, and he deserved what he got," Jian snapped, and Albus thought he saw a crack in the carefully constructed facade of calmness. "And you might be a Ravenclaw, Potter, but your attitude screams idiot Gryffindor. You really want to fight all four of us, for your honour?"

No, Al didn't, but he was banking on Jian not having the guts to start a brawl in the library, with the old, half-deaf librarian only a few shelves behind them. It was true that he had a lot of Gryffindor blood, and whatever that meant, it wouldn't let him back down now. James would never let him hear the end of it, and although he knew his dad would tell him off for fighting, it was just what he would have done, and that was important, for some reason. "Try me," he said, with true Gryffindor idiocy.

Jian hesitated, and Albus felt a rush of triumph. But Carcer had apparently not caught on to the risks of duelling in a public place, and he stepped forward, brandishing his wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"

"Protego!" the words were out of Al's mouth before Carcer had even finished the hex, and the spell bounced harmlessly off the shield. Jian was turning, no doubt to berate Carcer for being an idiot, but Daws and Sutton had already decided to join in. Two more curses came Al's way, and he dodged both of them, ending up on the ground and rolling under a table. "Stupify!" he shouted, aiming his wand at someone's legs, and he heard a body topple, but too late he realised that going under the table had been a mistake: there were chairs everywhere and he had effectively trapped himself in a cage.

Something hit him in the back. It felt like a small Bludger right at the base of his spine. From where it hit, a deep, terrible cold began to spread, down his legs and up his chest to his throat. It was as if someone had immersed him in ice, or if a ghost had walked into him and refused to leave, he was drowning in cold. Taking an icy breath he gripped his wand and aimed another Stunning spell. There was a loud bang and something very big went crashing to the ground.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" demanded the reedy voice of the librarian. Albus was unable to answer him, his teeth were chattering, he was shivering all over and all he could do was wrap his arms around himself and try not to panic. The chairs were being moved aside. "Finite incantatem!"

Suddenly Al could breathe again, and warmth, delicious warmth, came flooding through his limbs. It was like drinking hot cocoa after falling over in the snow, except ten times better. He sighed with relief and let the old man drag him out from under the table. He was surprisingly strong for such a small, elderly person. Daws was the one lying

Stunned on the floor. The other three Slytherins were getting to their feet amid a mess of dust and books. Evidently a bookshelf had toppled, narrowly missing them. Jian's dark hair was all over the place, and he was glowering.

"Fighting in the library!" the librarian exclaimed. "Damaging valuable books! You will all come with me to the Headmistress' office, at once!"

Professor McGonagall was unimpressed, to say the least. Luckily she seemed to be mostly annoyed at the Slytherins, but after she had shouted at them for half an hour, taken forty points each for fighting, given them detention and sent them packing, she turned her steely eyes onto Albus, and sighed. "And what am I going to do with you, Mr Potter?" she asked him wearily.

He shrugged. He wasn't afraid of Professor McGonagall, though of course he respected her. He had known her since he was a child, and she had let him beat her at chess when he was six. He remembered his dad saying 'she's just an old softy really. If only we'd known!'

"It was dumb," he admitted. "I'm sorry."

"Are you, though?" McGonagall asked him with interest.

He thought about it for a moment, letting his eyes rove over the portraits behind the desk. Most of them were empty. "Not really," he admitted eventually. "They insulted Hagrid, and Aunt Hermione, and Rose, and Teddy, and my parents. They deserved a lot worse than a bookshelf falling on them. You can punish me if you want."

"Oh, I will," McGonagall said, still looking at him with more amusement and a sort of resigned weariness, rather than real anger. "The library, Mr Potter, really? In the middle of the day? Your father at least had the sense to attempt to be discreet. Your brother, who has given me more grey hairs so far than any of the Potters or Weasleys I have had the misfortune of teaching, is not even that brazen."

"They started it, Professor," Albus pointed out.

"And the reason you didn't just walk away?"

Albus did have to admit that this stumped him a little. "Er… instinct?"

One of the portraits laughed. "Really, Albus," McGonagall snapped sternly. "You promised."

The portrait of Dumbledore made a lip-zipping motion with his hand and mimed throwing away the key. Albus grinned, but quickly straightened his expression as the Headmistress turned back to him. "Thirty points from Ravenclaw for using magic against another student," she began, "and ten points from Ravenclaw for damaging library property."

Albus was about to argue, until he realised that the sentence could be a lot worse. Still, he had never lost so much as a single point for Ravenclaw before, and Ravenclaws did not take point-losing lightly. "Yes Professor," he said grudgingly.

"And I will be writing to your parents."

"But Professor -"

"No buts, Mr. Potter. It is in fact school policy to inform parents in these situations, as no doubt your mother and father are already more than aware."

Albus sulked about this all the way back to the Common Room. He didn't think his dad would be too angry, but his mum did not approve of fighting. Perhaps he could write to them and explain that it wasn't his fault, but that seemed a bit like whining, really.

"You got in a fight?" Rose said incredulously when he had reluctantly imparted the story to his friends, who had by now forgotten about griping at each other in favour of wondering where on earth Al had got to.

"Finally!" Scorpius chuckled, to Al's surprise. "It's about time you had a turn."

"I did not get in a fight," Rose protested, as though the word was unsanitary. "Jian hexed me, you two were the ones who wanted to take his head off…"

"I'm just saying, now he's had a go at all three of us," Scorpius pointed out.

"Can we just forget about it, please?" Al sighed. "I've lost forty points and mum's probably going to send me a Howler, isn't that punishment enough?"

"She won't send you a Howler," Rose said sensibly. "She never sends Howlers, not even to James when he's done something really stupid."

Annoyingly she was right, there was no Howler. There was a short letter, signed by both his parents, warning him to be more cool-headed in future. It was almost disappointing. At the end his father had written,

Believe me when I tell you I understand the circumstances that can lead to drawing your wand in a public place, against someone else who may not have directly threatened you, and I'm not saying it's a good idea. You are much cleverer than I ever was, and I know you can think of a way to solve any such dispute without magic or violence. On the other hand, you are learning Defence Against the Dark Arts for a reason and I never saw much sense in taking lumps when you don't have to, even if it might be the more 'right' thing to do, school-rules-wise.

For some reason that made him feel better. After that incident, Jian and the rest of the Slytherins left all three Ravenclaws alone, and Albus went back to studying in the Common Room.

~*-S-*~

Scorpius had Christmas with the Longbottoms again that year. It was turning into quite a tradition, and Hannah assured him that they liked having him over and it wasn't ruining their family Christmas at all. It was true that they usually had other guests, like the Lovegoods and Neville's grandmother, and this year it was Hannah's father, a Muggle man who jumped at every single magical event. Scorpius could see that he was pretending to be relaxed about it for his daughter's sake, but he saw his eyes go very wide when the turkey came floating into the room to land gently on the table.

Scorpius had met a few Muggles by now, but he had never had the opportunity to talk to one who knew he was a wizard. It was also refreshing to realise that Mr Abbott didn't know anything about the Malfoys, and was therefore not the slightest bit judgemental of him at all.

"Muggle Studies?" he said, confused, when Scorpius tentatively brought it up. "You mean you have to have a class dedicated to learning about us?"

Scorpius explained that some wizards grew up with very little knowledge of Muggle society. "The first time I went into a post office I made a total fool of myself," he admitted. "I'm better at it now, but I don't like going too far into the city in case I get lost or get hit by a bus, or something."

Lizzie snorted into her dinner, causing her mother to give her a very wearing look.

"What?" Scorpius asked innocently. "Those things move really fast!"

"You could try staying off the road," she told him, giggling.

"Scorpius likes Muggle music, too, Dad," said Hannah, encouragingly.

"Do you?" said Mr Abbott, with enthusiasm.

"Oh yes," said Scorpius emphatically. "Especially some of the older stuff - I'm really into the Beatles right now."

Mr Abbott's face lit up, and the two of them basically shut out the rest of the conversation for a good half an hour as they compared notes on their favourite bands. Alice was enough of a distraction for her parents as she had learned the trick of throwing her food practically everywhere except in her mouth. Tony, Lizzie's brother, had to keep ducking when she flung food his way. Eventually she managed to get a spoonful of mushy peas down his shirt, which sent everyone into hysterical laughter. Tony merely grimaced and went to change. The look of triumph on Alice's face made Scorpius laugh harder than he had in months.

After such a great day it felt particularly depressing to go back to the dormitory, which this year had been vacated by all the fourth year Ravenclaws except him. On the upside, Rose and Albus had both chipped in to buy him a huge book called A History of Wizarding Music Tradition: from the Ancient Bards to the Wireless of Today, full of pictures, and some pages even played music when you turned them. He decided he could forgive Rose for getting on his back about school, and promised himself that he would do all his homework before she got back.

The thing was, he was pretty sure in the back of his mind that he wanted to be a musician. And who needed Defence Against the Dark Arts or Herbology for that? Muggle Studies was important, because being a wizard musician was all well and good until you wanted to play for more than a few dozen people at a time. Still, after reading Wizarding Music Tradition, he decided he had to pay more attention in Charms. It turned out that there were spells you could put on musical instruments to let you play more than one tune at a time, or create sounds from several different instruments using just one. There were spells you could use to sing in harmony with yourself. And you could Transfigure instruments as well, if you knew what you were doing. Scorpius wondered if Rose knew that reading the book would make him want to pay more attention in class.

The holidays were almost over when he got a very unexpected owl that put paid to his good mood entirely. It was from his mother. She had sent an envelope with money in it for Christmas, more money than last year but with only a short note to say they would see him when he came home for the summer. This letter was different.

Scorpius,

I am writing to tell you, as your father and I agree you should be informed, that I am expecting a child, to arrive in April next year, in which case you shall see him or her when you return home in July.

That was it. One sentence. Scorpius read it over three times. Then he folded it up and stuffed it in the back of his Transfiguration textbook, fell back onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling for what felt like an age.

He had tried not to think too much about the scene he had witnessed with Monsieur Belanger since school started. After all, it wasn't really any of his business. He had decided he couldn't really blame his mother for falling in love with someone else, when her own husband barely acknowledged her existence. And as long as she was careful and he never found out, there was no reason for Scorpius to get involved.

But now he thought back to that whispered conversation at the apothecary, his mother's fear, her lover's anger. "Draco and I haven't... we've slept in separate rooms since we moved to town." She admitted it. And then she had said something about correcting the situation.

Scorpius suddenly felt sick. They hadn't just been talking about the affair. She was telling Belanger about the baby, and trying to find a way to convince Scorpius' father that it was his.

She must have convinced him, he thought, turning his face into the pillow. Because the note said 'your father and I agree'. Nice of them to think of telling me after five months, he thought bitterly, forgetting for a moment the danger his mother had put herself and the child in by taking such a risk. It's not like I need to be 'informed' about things like moving to a new house or new members of the family until the very last minute.

He wondered what would happen when the child was born. Both Scorpius' parents were delicately built, pale, and fair-haired, hence the resemblance that Scorpius was really starting to despise. Belanger was big and dark. Would anyone notice? If they didn't, what would happen to Belanger? Surely he wouldn't be all right with his child being raised by another man. And if he was, would Astoria treat it differently? Scorpius felt a stab of jealously that he knew was unwarranted, but he couldn't help it. His mother loved Belanger, like she had never loved his father. Did that mean she would love the child more?

He was so intent on depressing himself with these thoughts that he missed dinner entirely, and his stomach grumbled uncomfortably as night fell and he crawled automatically into bed, holding A History of Wizarding Music Tradition on his lap, unseeing. In the end, he snapped it shut and hurled it across the room, where it banged against the far wall and toppled to the floor. What was the point? Nothing he ever did was going to be enough. He pulled the sheets over his head and recited goblin wars in his mind, but for once the tried and tested method failed to work. Sleep was a long, long time in coming.

Chapter Text

2021

~*-R-*~

The Potter-Weasley households were in a bit of an uproar, because on Christmas day it had come to light by some not-very-subtle teasing on behalf of the twins, that James had started dating one of the Gryffindor girls in their year. The subject had most unfortunately come up again during the back to school dinner at the Potter house, after James had left the table to finish some last-minute homework.

"He's fifteen, not five," Ron said from behind the evening edition of the Prophet. "Let him have a bit of fun, for Merlin's sake." The paper did not quite protect him from the spurious looks of his wife and sister, who were doing the after dinner clean-up in the kitchen around everyone else.

"As long as he doesn't have too much fun," Hermione said pointedly. "From what Fred and Roxanne were saying, this girl is very..."

"Enthusiastic?" Rose suggested. Albus snorted.

"That is not what I was going to say," her mother said, somewhat disapprovingly.

"I notice you haven't ventured an opinion, Harry," said Ginny to her husband. Rose looked up at her uncle. He had that look on his face that suggested he was only half listening. "Harry?" Ginny prompted, with mock furosity. "Our son is walking out with some random harlot. What do you have to say about it?"

"I don't see what the problem is, as long as he behaves the way we brought him up to behave," Harry said after a brief pause which suggested he was reacquainting himself with the situation. "After all, some of us weren't even fifteen when we started dating."

"Oh really?" Albus said, clearly fascinated by this turn of events. Rose looked up with great surprise to see her mother going red.

"Mum!"

"Viktor did not count," Hermione said firmly, slapping the back of her husbands head when he started to laugh. "We were friends, we were not dating."

"Try telling him that," Ron said, still sniggering.

"Who's Viktor?" Rose demanded.

Hermione sighed. "Never you mind."

"I was talking about Ginny, anyway," Harry put in.

Ginny shot him a dark look.

"Oh really?" Albus said again, grinning widely.

"That is not the same thing," Ginny protested, though she looked doubtful of her own words. "Albus, have you packed?"

"Mum, now is not the time to change the subject."

"Are you packed?"

"Yes!"

"Rose?"

Rose sighed. "Yes."

"Good. Now you had both better go along to bed, you've got an early start tomorrow."

As she and Al left the kitchen reluctantly, they could hear Ginny berate her husband for apparently telling trade secrets. Rose did think it was a bit hypocritical for her to fret about James, if she had started dating at fourteen. The idea seemed a bit foreign, to Rose. Having to share your whole life with another person seemed like a great deal too much effort, and anyway, she had her friends.

She had made up her mind to be nicer to Scorpius when they got back to school. After all, while she cared about his education, she hadn't meant to remind him that she was the only one who did. And she did feel terrible that they had to leave him every year to endure the Christmas holidays practically alone in Ravenclaw tower. She hadn't dared suggest to him that he come over for the holidays, since he always got nervous whenever her father or Albus' were mentioned. She got the feeling Draco Malfoy had portrayed them as fire-breathing, pureblood-hating monsters to his son, and while he had got on all right with her Aunt Ginny, she rather dreaded to think what sort of effect her own mother might have on the occasionally still shy Ravenclaw boy.

When they got back to school, however, it was to find Scorpius in an utterly black mood. He greeted them politely enough, but he seemed upset, and Rose hardly dared ask what was wrong. After a few days she realised he hadn't even touched his guitar. He sat in the Common Room, robotically doing homework or staring into space while Albus ranted about Quidditch. All tentative enquiries resulted in a short, vague reply such as 'I'm fine," or "just tired". She started to really worry that he had taken her criticism to heart.

About a week into the term, she came back from Quidditch practice alone. Scorpius wasn't in the Common Room, and she wondered if he had finally gone up to his dormitory to practice. Disregarding as usual the rules regarding girls in the boys' dormitory, she went up the stairs and peeked into the fourth-year boys room. At first she thought it was empty, until she saw a mop of blond hair on one of the beds. She tip-toed into the room, thinking he might be asleep, but when she went round the other side of the bed, his eyes were open.

"Thought you were Al," he said flatly, glancing at her only for a brief moment.

"He's in the hospital wing," she explained.

He started and lifted himself onto his elbow. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, just sprained his wrist a bit. Nothing Madam Pomfrey can't fix with a quick charm."

He relaxed and thumped back onto the bed again. "Oh."

She bit her lip. He looked so sad. Guilt swirled around her stomach, making her feel queasy. "Scorp, look... I'm really sorry I shouted at you so much. I didn't mean for you to give up music altogether. You're really good and I want you to keep playing, it's just I didn't want you to get in trouble. Please stop being so sad."

He stared at her, blankly, for a moment. Then he sat up and offered her a hand. Tentatively she took it and allowed him to tug her onto the bed beside him. "It's not you," he said, firmly but without quite meeting her eyes. "It's not about that. I promise."

"Then what is it about?" she asked, somehow feeling both relieved and more worried at the same time.

He seemed to consider his answer for a moment. Then he reached onto the bedside table and picked up his Transfiguration book, thumbing through it until he found a loose bit of parchment, which, after a brief hesitation, he handed to her. "Malfoy family drama," he explained, with a tired, half-hearted smile.

Rose read the letter, which only took half a minute. "Oh," she said, surprised but not feeling any the wiser. "But that's good... isn't it?"

"Maybe on the surface," Scorpius said, with an expression that seemed much older than his fourteen years.

"I mean, it seems a very formal way to tell you you're going to have a brother or sister, but you knew they were like that..." Rose continued, watching his face. "What is it?"

Scorpius sighed. "Thing is... I know some stuff I probably shouldn't know. I think the baby... okay, I know the baby is only going to be a half brother or sister. My mum's having an affair with the man she works with. It could have been going on for years."

Rose gasped. "What! But that's terrible!"

Scorpius shrugged. "Not really. I understand that part. I wouldn't want to be married to him either. I mean, he barely speaks to her anymore, let alone…" he reddened and looked away, his fingers bunching into fists on his knees. "But she's going to pretend that the baby's his! If he finds out..." he stopped, his face slightly green with anxiety.

"Maybe he won't find out," Rose suggested. "That's possible, right?"

Scorpius still looked miserable. "Maybe," he admitted. "He hardly pays attention to anything either of us does anymore."

"There you are then," Rose said, though secretly she was somewhat horrified at the indication of his father's total indifference to his family.

He looked at her helplessly. "It's mad," he said in a small voice. "It'll all come out eventually, I know it. And I don't know whose side I should be on… I don't really want to take a side at all, but I'll have to…"

"Scorp, this doesn't have anything to do with you," she said, as gently as she could. "I mean, of course it does, but it isn't your fault. You're not responsible for anything your parents do."

"I know that!"

"Then why worry? Worrying won't help. Whatever's going to happen is going to happen."

Scorpius sighed. "You just don't know my family. It'll blow up, and someone could get hurt… or killed..."

She hesitated. He had talked like this before, but it always seemed like a figure of speech. Now it all sounded very serious. With an effort she forced herself into logic mode. "Okay, let's look at the options. Tell your dad about the affair."

"No fear," Scorpius muttered.

"Tell your mum you know about the affair?"

He shuddered. "No."

"Tell someone else in your family, like your grandparents or your aunt - "

"No!"

"Well then, the only thing left to do is to not tell anyone and hope for the best. Maybe it'll all just work out. Doesn't mean your whole life has to end."

They told Albus when he got back from seeing Madam Pomfrey, and luckily he was of the same opinion, though Rose thought some of his advice probably didn't help the situation. "Not your problem mate," he said after the explanation had been made. "You're not the one sleeping around, right? Let them work it out between themselves."

Despite Rose's reservations, it seemed that Scorpius decided to do just that. He threw himself back into schoolwork and Albus reported that he was playing music again, and eating up the new songs Albus had loaded onto his iPod during the summer. He even managed to be marginally cheerful on his birthday in March, a day which normally seemed to depress him.

Before anyone could blink, it seemed that exams were already upon them. The seventh years, which this year included Lizzie's brother Anthony, suddenly became secluded and anxious all the time. The fifth years in the Weasley family were even more unbearable to be around than usual, as they simultaneously tried to study for their OWLs and made it nearly impossible for anyone else to do so.

"You tell your brother and his mates," one of the Ravenclaw boys said crossly to Albus in April, "that he is not making any friends by setting off fireworks in the library. Some of us actually care about our OWLs."

"Like I had any control over it," Albus complained to Rose later. "What do they expect me to do? Fred by himself is twice my size! What chance do I have against all three of them?"

"That'll be us next year," Rose said anxiously. "Not setting off fireworks, obviously, but doing OWLs. I can't wait to spend a whole summer listening to mum go on and on about how important they are..."

"Uh oh," said Albus, not looking at her but staring across the common room at something else. "Looks like news."

She followed his gaze to where Scorpius was standing by the window, a brown owl perched on the sill and a small bit of parchment in his hand. They hurried over. "What's up?" she asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

Scorpius looked up at them. "What? Oh, it's a boy," he said. "That's all it says, really."

"Oh, well... great," she replied, watching his face for any danger signs. "It would say if anything... else, had happened, wouldn't it?"

"I guess," he said, folding the parchment carefully and putting it in his pocket. Rose shot Albus a warning look to urge him not to ask any further questions. She sensed the whole half-brother situation was a sensitive topic.

~*-S-*~

Before exams, there was the compulsory memorial ceremony to get through. Scorpius didn't enjoy it any more than he had the first time. As usual, he stayed out of the way of the combined Weasley and Potter families, watching from afar as they joined the hundreds of other people making small offerings at the memorial stone. He didn't even have his usual comfort of being able to talk to Hannah, as she had had to stay in Diagon Alley with two-year-old Alice, who had a fever. So he stood at the back, trying to ignore the chatter of the other disinterested students, most of whom were Muggleborn or whose families had not been in Britain during the war.

He wandered on the edge of the crowd on the way back to the castle, deep in his own murky thoughts. Since the one-line notice of his brother's birth, he had received no other news, despite the letter he had written home asking if his mother was well, what they had decided to name him, and all the other innocuous questions he could think to ask. There was more than one explanation, of course. Perhaps his mother was too busy with the new baby to reply. Except he was sure that now the family was back in pocket, they would hire a nanny. He had lost count of the times his mother had complained about having to look after Scorpius herself when he was born. Perhaps she was ill, or the baby was ill. He doubted his father would pay much mind, though at least, he reminded himself, he would have been pleased to have a second boy. He didn't think Draco would have a clue what to do with a girl, even less than he did with boys...

"Hey!"

An unfamiliar voice roused him from his gloomy thoughts. He looked up to see a tall, sandy-haired young man coming up behind him. He was perhaps in his early twenties, with handsome, angular features, and was dressed in a Muggle buttoned shirt and dark jeans. It took Scorpius a moment, but as the man drew closer he recognised Albus' cousin Teddy.

"Er... hi," he said, uncertain. He felt a little better that the newcomer was offering him a smile, but not much better. "Mr Lupin?"

The man chuckled. "Who are you, my lawyer? Call me Teddy. Can I walk with you?"

Scorpius blinked. "Um... okay," he said, somewhat hesitantly. He didn't want to be rude, but he was always nervous meeting strangers. It helped that Teddy was really, well, cool. Scorpius tried not to stare enviously at his Muggle clothes. He looked so natural in them, and he moved with a roguish, mischievous sort of air that reminded him of Albus' brother James.

Teddy came up into step with him, closing his eyes briefly as the newly-risen sun bathed his face in its warm light. "Rose sort of mentioned you might like a chat," he said after a moment, and Scorpius felt a few things fall into place. He made a mental note to take this up with his friend later.

"She seemed to think you might need convincing that your entire family isn't mad," he said, causing Scorpius to redden and drop his gaze. "Not sure why she thought I could convince you of anything of the kind," Teddy added, apparently as a joke. "But I guess we are cousins. Second cousins or something, anyway."

"Or something," Scorpius agreed, quietly.

"Our grandmothers are sisters," Teddy clarified. "You close to your gran?"

Scorpius shook his head. "Only met her a few times. She spent most of the time trying to stop Grandfather from gnawing on the furniture. He really is mad," he added. "I don't think either of them are really aware I exist."

"Merlin," said Teddy. Scorpius looked up at him. His hair seemed to have gone from sandy blond to a depressing sort of grey. "The Blacks must be cursed or something. We're the only young ones left, as far as I know. Not that the Blacks would have ever considered me one of them. You, they might have allowed." He stopped to pick a few flowers that grew near the path to the Quidditch Pitch. Scorpius watched him curiously.

"Why wouldn't they have accepted you?" he asked eventually, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

Teddy looked back at him in surprise and chuckled. "You know the Black motto is 'always pure'? Me, I'm part Muggle, part Metamorphmagi, part we - well. Not pure, is the point. Luckily there aren't too many families left who care about that sort of thing."

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Just my luck to be in one of them."

Teddy grinned. "You should meet my gran. She could tell you some stories. When she married my grandfather, they cut her out of the family. They didn't even talk about her, like she never existed. I don't think she minded too much, though."

Scorpius shuddered. He couldn't imagine anything worse. "I don't want that to happen to me."

Teddy looked puzzled as he got to his feet. "Really? Rose says you don't get on much with your family."

"Well..." Scorpius glanced up at the castle doors where the last few people were filing in. "It's not like we spent a lot of time together. I only see them during summer and they both work a lot. But that's not the same as... as not having any family at all."

"Well, you've got me," Teddy said, smiling. "And Gran."

Scorpius didn't know how to say in a polite way that a distant cousin and a great aunt he had never met before was not the same as a mother and father. "Are you really part Metamorphmagi?" he asked, purely to change the subject as he already knew the answer. Albus and Rose were more subtle about it, but James, Fred and Roxanne were more vocal than they probably should be about the fact that their adopted cousin was a spy who could shapeshift.

"Well, more than part, since you either are or you aren't one, but yeah," he replied, turning his nose bright blue for a moment as if to prove it.

Scorpius sighed inwardly. Cool didn't seem to be a strong enough word. "That must be useful."

"Sometimes. When I was at school it was a nuisance. I couldn't walk down a corridor without people asking me to do a pig nose or bat's ears, or something. Or copy someone's face, that's a popular one."

"Can you do that?" Scorpius asked, suddenly intrigued.

"Yeah, sort of. It's easier to just make stuff up, though. If I wanted to look exactly like someone else it'd be easier to take Polyjuice Potion. Not that I would," he added. "It being illegal for me to do so without a license. And working for the Ministry I would of course never do anything illegal."

Scorpius chuckled. "Is someone listening?"

"You never know." Teddy grinned at him. "Anyway that's the sort of thing I used to have to put up with. People ever give you a hard time about your dad?"

The question came so unexpectedly that Scorpius was surprised into answering. "Sometimes. Some people think I shouldn't be allowed to go to Hogwarts after my father almost destroyed it all - "

Teddy's eyes widened, and Scorpius immediately regretted his words. "Let me guess, Gryffindors?" Teddy asked.

Scorpius frowned. "Were you a Gryffindor?"

"No, but I know what they're like," Teddy muttered. "It is, isn't it?"

Scorpius shrugged. "They don't bother me much anymore." The truth was that that problem had somewhat paled in comparison to the whole half-brother situation.

"Does Neville know?"

"No!"

"I figured. No way he'd put up with it if he knew anything like that was going on."

"It's fine. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins are having some kind of underground war at the moment, so they pretty much ignore the rest of us."

Teddy rolled his eyes dramatically. "As it was meant to be. Seriously though, I know most of the snotty nosed brats in the upper years. I was Head Boy not too long ago, you know. Anything really messed up goes down, you owl me and I'll come up here and box their ears for them."

Scorpius smiled despite himself. "Thanks, but I'm okay. Mostly I just hate the idea of people judging me on stuff I have absolutely no control over."

Teddy nodded. "Actually, you know who you should meet?" he said thoughtfully. "Harry."

Scorpius started. "Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, you haven't met him yet, have you?"

"Not exactly," Scorpius muttered. He had no intention of going anywhere near Albus' father, thanks.

"He's all right, you know," Teddy told him, apparently sensing his hesitation. "I reckon you'd find that you two have a lot in common."

They started walking again, climbing the stairs to the big doors and making their way through the Entrance Hall. Scorpius thought about what Teddy had said. It sounded crazy to him. What could he and Harry Potter possibly have in common? Except Albus, of course. Albus said that his parents didn't mind him being friends with Scorpius, and Ginny had been friendly enough, but... well. It was Harry Potter, wasn't it? His father's enemy, the destroyer of the Dark Lord, famous for tracking down dark wizards as Head of the Aurors. Scorpius thought Mr Potter was probably more likely to tell Albus not to have anything to do with him than start chatting about whatever it was they had in common.

Victoire was waiting for them at the door to the great hall. "Where've you been?" she asked Teddy accusingly, to which he bowed to her and offered her the handful of flowers.

"Oh!" she said, in an entirely different tone of voice. "They're lovely, thank you. Hello Scorpius."

"Hi," he replied. She asked him, in French, how his schoolwork was going, and he made automatic replies until he saw an opportunity to escape. When he looked back, Victoire had her arms around Teddy's neck and was kissing him. If they got married, he thought glibly, My family would be connected to the Potters. Harry Potter would be my second cousin's wife's uncle by marriage. Then he snorted. Now I do sound like a Malfoy.

~*-A-*~

Ravenclaw lost their last Quidditch game of the year, against Slytherin. Albus sulked about this, especially after Gryffindor went on to win the Cup, until the fury of exams took it clean out of his mind.

"Just think," Rose said triumphantly as they came out of their last exam in Greenhouse 3. "This time next year we'll be finishing our OWLs."

"Joy," muttered Scorpius, flicking through his Herbology textbook as they walked back to the castle. "I just can't wait till sixth year when we can drop some subjects."

"Herbology and Divination?" Albus suggested.

"Well they're both useless. Whose stupid idea was it for me to do Divination anyway?"

Rose laughed. "As I recall, I tried to warn you against it."

"That you did. If you want to choose my NEWTs for me, I swear I'll listen this time."

"How did you guys do?" Lizzie came up beside them with Belinda Ascott trailing after her.

"I think I messed up the essay question," Scorpius sighed, still thumbing through his textbook. "Here's an idea, I'll help you with Charms next year if you tutor me in Herbology. My father may not take much mind of these little exams, but if I fail any OWLs, he definitely will notice."

"Deal," said Lizzie, grinning. "As long as you don't mind being the only Ravenclaw being tutored by a Hufflepuff."

"Shut that book, will you?" Albus yawned as they reached the stairs. "It's over. Summer has basically started. No more studying until the absolutely last minute when its time to do holiday homework - joking, joking," he added, rolling his eyes at Rose's warning look. "You looked just like your mum then."

Rose crinkled her nose. "Did not."

"Two weeks till we get to go home," Belinda said, swinging her bag enthusiastically. "I miss my family so much!"

"I want to see Alice," Lizzie agreed. "It's been ages since half-term. Scorpius, are you excited to finally meet your brother?"

Albus looked at his friend for his reaction. A few select people knew about this by now; it wasn't exactly a secret, after all, though of course the more scandalous facts had been kept between the three Ravenclaws.

"Oh, you mean the as-yet-unnamed three-month-old I now have to split my inheritance with?" Scorpius said, finally returning his book to his bag. The girls laughed. Albus thought Scorp might just be getting a little too good at deflection.

"Leaving your guitar at school again?" he asked, by means of changing the subject.

"As long as no one tells," Scorpius said meaningfully. "The House Elves don't mind looking after it for me."

"I've never even seen a House Elf," said Belinda. "How do they do all the cleaning and washing and cooking and things and I still haven't seen one in four years?"

"Have to know where to look," said Albus, tapping his nose. "It helps to have a Hogwarts alumni family that passes on such important knowledge."

That effectively steered the conversation away from Scorpius' mother, as Albus and Rose regaled the Hufflepuffs with second-hand stories about House Elves. "You good?" Albus asked Scorpius quietly as they went in to dinner, the chatter of the Great Hall drowning out his words to anyone else.

"Fine," the blond boy said, shrugging. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just look after yourself this summer, all right? And owl me. Call me a fake name, if you have to."

Scorpius smiled grimly. "Will do."

~*-S-*~

It was a total stranger that picked Scorpius up from the train station this time, clearly visible from the train window. He was wearing a tight-fitting navy-blue robe, and holding up a card with the Malfoy crest on it. Albus patted him on the back, Rose gave him a final hug, and then he had to get off the train while pretending he didn't know them.

He heaved his trunk down onto the platform, attempting to keep his head down as people tittered. "This is really embarrassing," he murmured to the man. "You couldn't have at least held up my actual name?"

"Mousieur Malfoy, votre père vous attend à la maison," the servant - Scorpius could only assume he was some kind of servant - replied.

"Fine, I'm coming, just keep a low profile," Scorpius replied, still in English, and the man stared at him blankly.

He kept his silence for the trip back, which involved the man driving him in a large black car - which actually drove itself - to a Floo point Scorpius had never seen before, not the official international ones they usually used. They came out in the back room of a store in Rue Chouette, and had to walk the rest of the way. The servant at least offered to take Scorpius' trunk, but when they got to the house, the man left him alone while he took the trunk upstairs.

Scorpius decided to look for his mother rather than go straight to the study for the annual visit to remind his father he was still alive. He checked the living room, then the dining room - both of which looked better furnished and looked-after than last summer. He surprised a maid in the kitchen, but there was no one in any of the upstairs rooms. He wondered where the nursery was. There were a few rooms on the bottom floor that hadn't been used last year. He had just decided to go and look around them when the navy-blue servant popped up again and told him firmly that his father was expecting him in the study.

Scorpius sighed and went back downstairs again. His father was sitting behind his desk, but not working. "Where have you been?" he demanded as soon as Scorpius came in. "I told Jean to send you to me as soon as you arrived."

"I was looking for mother," Scorpius explained. "Do you know where she is? I'd like to see the baby."

For a moment, his father's face went dark with anger so furious that Scorpius almost took a step backwards. Then it went blank and expressionless. "Your mother no longer lives here," Draco Malfoy said, coldly.

Scorpius stared. "Why? Where is she?"

"I don't want to hear any more on the subject." His father's grey eyes were very dark, and there was a telltale tinge of red in his pale cheeks.

"Where is mother?" Scorpius demanded, throwing caution to the winds. "Is she all right? Did something happen to the baby?"

Before he knew what was happening, a wand was in his father's hand, and he found himself thrown against the study door, all the breath knocked out of his lungs. "ENOUGH!"

Scorpius tried to move but he was locked in place, his arms stuck to the door as though encased in lead. "But -"

Unable to doge, he bore the full brunt of a backhand armed with a signet ring that left a stinging pain across his cheek. "I said no more," his father hissed in his ear as he choked for breath. "As far as this family is concerned, that women is dead. Mention her name ever again and you will regret it. Do you understand me, Scorpius?"

Scorpius wished he hadn't put his own wand in his trunk before getting off the train. Or that he was able to move. His heart was pounding, but he wasn't afraid. He was angry. He didn't think he had ever been so angry.

"Do you understand me?" his father repeated, and Scorpius felt the sharp point of the wand pressing against his stomach.

"Yes sir," Scorpius forced out.

"Very well. Then get out of my sight."

Suddenly he found he could move again. Still fuming, but grateful to leave, he fled the study and went up to his room. He found his trunk at the foot of the bed, rummaged in it for his wand and locked the door behind him. He was sure his father, and probably the servants, knew how to break such spells, but it made him feel better anyway. Then he glanced into the mirror. There was a thin, red line across his cheek. Furiously he slashed his wand across his reflection. The wand sparked blue and a lightning-shaped crack appeared in the glass.

How dare he? How dare he keep the truth from him?

He leaned over the desk chair, breathing hard. His eyes burned but he refused to cry. He had to find out. He had to know where his mother was, if she was even still alive… if his brother was alive. He didn't want to believe that his father would do anything so terrible… but some dark voice in the back of his mind was whispering threateningly. He had to know for sure.

An hour later he sat at the desk, his still-shaking hands spotted with ink, folding the fourth draft of a letter. He had, after all, promised to write.

Chapter Text

2022

~*-A-*~

The Weasleys were hosting a birthday dinner for Rose a few weeks into the summer holidays, but the men of the family were running late. Everyone was sitting around the table, except Ginny and Hermione, who were banging things around in the kitchen.

"Wouldn't want to be Dad right now," James said, stretching in his chair. He was now a lanky sixteen year old, resembling his uncle Ron more than his own father in stature.

Hugo, in comparison, was as short and stocky at thirteen as he had been at ten. "What do you think's keeping them?" he asked.

"Probably a Dark Wizard on the run," Lily said excitedly. Lily had been top of her year in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and had recently announced her intention to become an Auror. She was the only one who was enthusiastic about this idea.

"That would have been on the news," Albus pointed out.

"I'm sure its important, whatever it is," Rose said loyally.

"It better be," said Hermione as the two women came into the dining room carrying plates. "We better get started, they'll get here when they get here."

In fact it wasn't until half an hour later that Harry, Ron and Teddy came traipsing into the house, still in their work robes. "Where have you been?" Ginny demanded. "I Floo'd the office twice and they said you weren't available. What am I supposed to make of that?"

"I'm sorry," Harry said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. "This Shadow business has got everyone worked up."

Hermione had her turn admonishing her husband as well, but Albus could tell that both women were relieved to have them back. The life of an Auror, even in relatively peaceful times like these, was unpredictable.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," Ron said, coming over and kissing Rose on the cheek.

"What's the Shadow business, Dad?" Lily asked once three more portions of food had been served and the meal had resumed.

Harry, Ron and Teddy exchanged glances. "Well, it's no secret," Harry said after a moment. "The Ministry is looking into a European gang of Smugglers who have just started trading in Britain. The black market on cursed objects is becoming a real problem."

"I thought Aurors only chased Dark Wizards," Hugo piped up. "How come you're worried about a bunch of smugglers?"

"Well, based on the stuff they're smuggling, they probably are Dark Wizards," Harry replied. "Or are at least in league with some. You don't buy some of this stuff unless you're planning to do some seriously illegal magic. Anyway, even if they aren't, it's still part of my job as Head of Magical Law Enforcement to oversee things."

"So what's the Shadow?" Lily asked excitedly.

It was Teddy who answered this time. "Shadow's not a what, its a who. Its the Department's nickname for whoever's in charge of the organisation. They call him Shadow because he's so impossible to find."

"The German and French Ministries have been searching for him for ten years now," Ron put in. "Its a clever organisation, hardly anyone knows the people who are really behind it all."

"All right, that's enough Auror talk at the dinner table," Hermione announced, causing Lily to groan, and the subject was changed.

Albus saw his chance when the main meal was over. "No Mum, I'll clear the plates," he said quickly when Ginny started to rise.

"Oh, thank you dear," she said gratefully, sinking back into her seat. Albus grabbed a couple plates and nudged Teddy with his elbow.

"I'll help too," Teddy said quickly, and Rose, seeing what was happening, gathered up the rest of the plates.

"So?" Albus asked when they were safely out of earshot. "Any news?"

"Yes," Teddy looked solemn as he put down his pile of plates. "Mrs Malfoy is living in a house in the south of France with a man called Belanger and a baby boy. No wonder she left - Malfoy would have to be an idiot not to realise something was up."

"Oh thank Merlin," Rose breathed with a sigh of relief. "Scorp was so worried something had happened to the baby."

"He did sort of make it sound like his father might have bashed its head in," Albus added.

"Al!" Rose protested. "Don't be so horrible. I know Mr Malfoy isn't the nicest person in the world..."

"Word on the street is they had a flaming row and she walked out," Teddy said. "Servants talk, I guess, and they say the child had hair and eyes like a Spaniard." Albus, remembering that both Scorpius' parents were blond, saw the immediate problem with that observation.

"Poor Scorp," Rose sighed. "All alone in that house with his father, not knowing if his mother's anywhere near."

"I'll write to him as soon as the party's over," Albus promised. "I'll use Emmett - he might get lost but he doesn't stand out as much as Womy does."

"Teddy, how did you even have time to look for Mrs Malfoy when this whole Shadow thing is happening?" Rose asked, pointedly.

Teddy winked. "Multitasking. Anything for my poor estranged cousin, of course. Let me know if you need anything else, yeah? And he can always write to me direct if he wants."

"I'll tell him," Albus promised. "We better get these plates sorted out before Mum starts to wonder if we got lost." The others nodded and they finished clearing the table.

"So, you two, OWLs this year," Albus' mum said unexpectedly half-way through dessert.

Albus slapped his palm against his forehead. "Darn, I completely forgot," he exclaimed. "That's THIS year?"

"Mum, fifth year is about way more than OWLs," James said, winking at his brother.

"What's it about then?" Rose countered.

James shrugged. "Getting girls."

Lily giggled.

"James," Ginny sighed. "Just because you started seeing 'Shana' last year doesn't mean your brother has to do everything you do."

"Shows how much you know," James said. "Mate, trust me, get a date for the first Hogsmeade weekend before all the good ones are taken."

"Excuse me?" Rose said darkly.

"Well he can't go with you, can he?" James replied, missing the point of her distaste.

"How are things with you and Shana, anyway?" Harry asked quickly.

"Daa-ad," James sighed. "Keep up, I'm with Flora now."

"Flora," Ginny muttered. "Silly name for a girl."

"Even sillier name for a boy," Ron pointed out, and both Lily and Hugo burst out laughing.

"Do people really take dates to Hogsmeade in fifth year?" Albus asked James later, when they had gone home.

"Hell yes mate," James said, grinning. "Don't worry, though. There are some advantages to being famous. Someone will ask you, or at least make it clear that she wants you to ask her. Trust me."

Albus flushed. "I don't want to go out with someone who only wants to go out with me because of Dad!" he protested.

"I didn't say you had to marry her," James rolled his eyes. "Play the field a bit. Even Ravenclaws are allowed to have fun, you know."

Albus wondered about the sensibility of this statement, however, as he went to bed. Brotherly assurances aside, it was hardly comforting to know that he know had a lot more than OWLs to worry about for the year ahead.

~*-R-*~

"Worst. Summer. Ever."

Rose looked up to see Scorpius enter the train compartment. He was late, as usual, the whistle was already blowing and parents had begun to wave goodbye by the time he dragged his trunk over to them. "What happened to your hair?" she asked, sympathetically.

Scorpius ran a hand over his head, rubbing at the back of his neck where the short cut was bristling. "Father said I was starting to look 'improper'," he sighed. "It must have been long for him to notice. One of the maids charmed it off - believe it or not it was worse than this a week ago."

He slid into the seat next to her and she ran her fingers through it experimentally. He flinched a little, but allowed it, although he gave her an odd look.

"Did you get out of the house at all?" she asked him, to cover the awkward moment.

"Hardly," he said. "The restaurant didn't need me, they've got some new kid working there. Anyway I dunno if I could have snuck out all the time like I did last year. Too many nosy servants."

"Jeez, how many are there?" Albus asked, his eyes widened slightly.

Scorpius shrugged. "Eight or so. It's nice to have a bit more noise around the place, even if they all insist on calling me 'Mr Malfoy' and expect me to ignore their existence the way he does. I guess he had them all pretty well trained by the time I got there, more's the pity."

"Eight!" Rose exclaimed. "To look after two people?"

"Most of the time," Scorpius nodded. "Though people stay over a lot. Goyle, mostly." He shuddered. "That guy still creeps me out. Anyway, please tell me you two at least did something fun so that I can live vicariously through you?"

"Mostly I listened to lectures about OWLs," Rose admitted. "I've been reminded by my parents and both sets of grandparents, repeatedly, that Mum got ten of them. No pressure, or anything."

"We can't all be Hermione Weasley," Albus pointed out.

"You won't fail anything," Scorpius told her. "When have you ever failed anything?"

She smiled at him.

~*S*~

It was good to be back at Hogwarts again, surrounded by people who waved to him in Great Hall at the welcome feast, to eat whatever he liked, and hot food! He was beyond tired of meals that arrived cold on a tray. It felt like a huge relief to climb the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower, even if he was puffed at the end of it, to answer the riddle to get in in competition with about ten other Ravenclaws, and collapse on his own blue-coverleted four-poster bed, which felt more like home than his green and black sheets in the townhouse ever had. He didn't care a jot when the boys teased him about not even getting undressed before bed. And best of all, the House Elves had left his guitar on a stand next to his bedside table. When he reached over and strummed his fingers across it experimentally, it was perfectly tuned. His fingers itched to play, but everyone else wanted to sleep, so he forced himself to join them.

The next morning he woke before dawn, packed his bag for classes and shoved his guitar into its case before tiptoeing out of the dormitory and down the stairs. He decided against the Common Room since the sound might travel into rooms where people were still sleeping, and left the tower in the direction of the Great Hall. There were a few early birds - mostly Ravenclaws, it was fair to say - and a couple of teachers already eating. Scorpius went in to grab a roll and some cold meat from the Ravenclaw table, and went back out again.

The great door was open on one side, and he went through it onto the stone staircase that led down to the grounds. He sat on the bottom step and ate his breakfast, brushing crumbs off his school robes onto the grass. It was a warm morning for September, and he pulled his sleeves up to his elbows before unzipping the guitar case.

His fingers found their way automatically onto the strings. His fingertips were a little soft, as they always were after three months of not playing, but he ignored their tenderness as he picked out an experimental melody, pausing occasionally to adjust a string. The sun was just coming up over the horizon, and the sky was a greyish purple shot through with orange.

He changed to a new chord and began one of his favourite tunes from his old Learn-To-Play books.

Early one morning

Just as the sun was rising

I heard a maiden singing in the valley below

Oh don't deceive me,

Oh never leave me,

How could you use a poor maiden so?

Remember remember your vows to marry

Remember remember your promise to be true

Oh don't deceive me,

Oh never leave me,

How could you use a poor maiden so?

He hadn't realised how hard it would be, all summer with no music, harder than it had ever been before. Even if the restaurant had needed him back, he doubted he would have been able to make enough money to bribe all the servants that would notice his absence. And his father was angry with him enough already. He barely spoke a word to him, even on the few occasions that they ate together. His mother was never mentioned again.

Gay is the garland, and fresh are the roses

I've culled from my garden to bind upon thy brow.

Oh don't deceive me,

Oh never leave me,

How could you use a poor maiden so?

Thus sang the maiden, her sorrows bewailing

Thus sang the pretty maiden in the valley below

Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me,

How could you use a poor maiden so?

He had been worried that his father might have hurt her, or the baby. He knew he shouldn't think such things about his own father, but Draco had boasted enough in Scorpius' youth about his ability to kill that he couldn't help but return to it again and again in his mind.

He had written to Albus out of desperation, not really sure what would come of it, but Teddy's information had lifted a great weight off his mind. In hindsight it would have made more sense to contact Teddy directly, but he didn't have his address, and without an owl he was still forced to use Muggle post unless someone sent him an owl first. He had to keep his Muggle money well-hidden, too, in defence against all the maids who seemed so insistent on cleaning his room every day. He was glad, in any case, that his mother and half-brother were safe. Even if it did hurt that his mother did not once contact him. He could only hope that it was because she feared angering her husband, not because she didn't care.

Early one morning

Just as the sun was rising

I heard a maiden singing in the valley below

Oh don't deceive me,

Oh never leave me,

How could you use a poor maiden so?

He thumbed the last few chords gingerly and blew on his fingers, then flinched as someone behind him clapped. He looked round and let out a sigh of relief when he saw who it was. "Morning Professor," he said, firing off a three-fingered salute.

Neville chuckled. "Just when you thought you were safe. You should know I check all the Greenhouses at about this time, most mornings."

Scorpius shook his head and put the guitar back in its case. "So you weren't spying on me?"

"Perish the thought, Mr Malfoy. You're very good with that instrument. I hadn't realised."

"Thanks," Scorpius said, making a show of zipping up the case to hide his embarrassment.

"And how was your summer?" Professor Longbottom asked as he joined Scorpius on the climb up the stairs to the Entrance Hall.

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Don't ask."

"That good?"

"Fan-bloody-tastic."

Neville raised his eyebrows. "I'll ignore that, since it's the first day back. Remember, you can always…"

"Come and talk to you, yeah, yeah, I know. See you in Herbology, Professor."

Albus and Rose were sitting at the Ravenclaw table, and Rose gave him a look of mingled annoyance and relief as he came in. "Where on earth were you?" she asked, handing him his timetable.

"Just outside," he said defensively. He could hardly hide the reason for his early morning outing - the guitar case was attracting a few looks from students and teachers alike. "I didn't want to wake anyone."

"Did you at least eat something?" she demanded.

"Yes mother," Scorpius told her, stealing a piece of sausage off her plate. She swiped at his hand, too late.

"Boys," she muttered.

"Oh good, Muggle Studies first," he said, examining his timetable.

"We have Care of Magical Creatures," Albus sighed. "I wonder what new way Hagrid will have come up with to kill us all this year?"

"I vote griffins," said Peter, the new Ravenclaw Prefect, from across the table.

"I call fairies!" called out Janey, the other new Ravenclaw Prefect, and everyone laughed.

Scorpius left them all joking about Care of Magical Creatures, and dropped off his guitar at Ravenclaw Tower before going to Muggle Studies. He made it just on time, as Professor Clearwater was just closing the door.

"Oh good," she said, smiling as he hurried up to her. "I was worried we might have lost you this year."

"No fear, Professor," he replied, grinning at her, and looked around for a seat. The only one remaining was near the back, next to a Gryffindor girl he didn't know well. He had to peek at the name scribbled on the cover of her textbook to remind himself of her first name. "Hi Stacy," he said, smiling at her.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Hi," she said, after a moment's hesitation. The awkwardness of this exchange soon had to be set aside, however, as Professor Clearwater starting writing the year's reading list on the blackboard. It seemed to go on forever, and this time there were no printed and plastic-bound versions to be handed out, they were entire books. Scorpius wondered, as he copied the list, how he was going to afford them all. There weren't many spare copies around of Muggle books, especially as many of them had only been added to the list recently. Perhaps he could come up with an excuse to write home for money.

He worried about this for most of the lesson, while they went round the room and shared Muggle-related experiences they had had over the holidays. When they came around to him, he had to admit that he hadn't been able to go into Muggle Paris at all, except to send one letter. Since the previous year he had spent a good fifteen minutes raving about the shops, and cars, and street theatre, this announcement was met with some surprise and disappointment by his classmates.

"Is that why you look so upset?" Stacey asked him unexpectedly at the end of class.

"What?" he said, before the question had really registered.

"You keep frowning. Because you didn't get to meet any Muggles this summer?"

He blinked at her for a minute as he tried to understand the question. He noticed that she was quite pretty, with thick chocolate-brown hair tied elegantly into a braid wound around her head, smooth olive skin, and very dark eyes. "No," he said eventually. "I guess I was just wondering how I'm going to pay for all these books." He flushed at that, he didn't usually like to discuss his financial problems with anyone, but her question had more or less startled it out of him.

"Oh," she said, putting out her bottom lip and chewing on the top one. "What do you usually do?"

"Borrow them from people," he explained. "Or use my parents' old ones, but they don't have any Muggle books at all. Obviously," he added, lamely.

She giggled, and he couldn't help smiling back. "How about this," she suggested. "I'm going to owl order some this week and get the rest at Hogsmeade. We can share them if you want."

At this he thought he must have flushed even redder. "I can't do that," he protested. By now, the rest of the class had left, and Professor Clearwater was standing expectantly by the door for them to follow. "I do have some money - maybe I could help you pay for them?"

She shrugged. "If you like," she agreed. "We could go to Hogsmeade together and look for them."

"Er... okay," he said.

"Hurry up you two, I haven't got all day," Professor Clearwater called, and they were forced to exit the classroom. Scorpius wasn't sure if he should say something else to Stacey, but she was already walking down the corridor with a friend, and he was left staring after her in confusion.

"She said what?" was Albus' reaction, later, when Scorpius pushed through his embarrassment enough to tell the story. "You mean you've got a date for Hogsmeade already? It's the first day!"

"It's not a date," Scorpius said quickly. "We're going book shopping."

"She obviously likes you," Rose said, without looking up from her book.

"I've hardly spoken to her before today! She's a Gryffindor, and most Gryffindors won't even meet my eyes in a corridor - family and friends of present company excepted," Scorpius argued.

"I can't believe you've got a date already," Albus groaned.

"Oh shut up."

~*-R-*~

Albus needn't have worried. Over the next few weeks, no less than six girls asked Rose, some more outright than others, whether her cousin was taking anyone to Hogsmeade. By the time the actual weekend rolled around, he had three or four serious offers.

"Just pick one already!" she said exasperatedly, interrupting the boys' discussion on the subject. "They're all just as silly as each other."

"Thanks," Albus said, bristling.

"I think this whole thing is stupid anyway," she sighed, not for the first time. "Who decided it was compulsory to go in pairs to Hogsmeade?"

"No one's asked her yet," Albus said to Scorpius in a stage whisper. Scorpius gave her a look so pathetically pitying that she thought she might scream.

"If you must know," she said through gritted teeth. "Someone has actually asked me, but I didn't see the point in saying yes. We're all going to the same place, aren't we? What does it matter who I 'go with'?"

"Who asked you?" Scorpius asked.

"None of your business," she said.

"You're making it up," Albus accused. She threw a book at him, which he dodged. Damn Seeker reflexes.

It was one of the Hufflepuff boys who had tentatively asked her, a few days ago after Herbology while the boys were busy talking to Lizzie and Belinda. His name was Gary, and he was quite sweet, she supposed. It was certainly nice to be thought of. But something had made her say no, some sense of ridiculousness that she found hard to put into words.

After another two days of Albus' agonising over his decision, however, she found peer pressure starting to weigh on her. Sitting with the other Ravenclaws at dinner, she saw Gary passing and got out of her seat to catch up with him.

"I was wondering if your offer was still open?" she asked, using all her willpower not to blush.

He blinked at her, plainly as embarrassed as she was. "Of course," he said after a moment's hesitation, and then frowned as if wishing he had said something else.

"All right then," she said quickly before he could change his mind. "I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall, I guess."

When she got back to the Ravenclaw table, Albus was almost doubled over with paroxysms of laughter. Scorpius didn't seem nearly as amused. "There, now you're the last to have a date," Rose said sharply to her cousin, which sobered him up quickly. "Now put all but one of those girls out of their misery and have done. You're as bad as James."

Albus gave her a hard look, muttered something about having homework to do, and left the table. "What?" Rose demanded, at Scorpius' expression.

"You did that just to make a point," he said, frowning.

"So?"

"So, that's a bit unfair on Gary, isn't it? Imagine how you'd feel if someone asked you out to make a point."

She stared at him. It wasn't like him to even notice social problems, let alone comment on them. "It wasn't just to make a point," she said lamely, refusing to admit that his words made her feel just a bit ashamed.

"You still needn't," he said, picking up his bag. "I'd be going alone too if Stacey hadn't asked me. It's not a competition."

"I didn't say it was!" she snapped.

He seemed to flinch - for a moment she saw the shy, eleven-year-old child she had determined to befriend, all that time ago. Then he shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, and followed Albus out of the Great Hall.

She was forced to avoid both boys for the rest of the week. She felt deep down that she was sulking over something, though she wasn't sure what. It wasn't as though she hadn't been asked, after all. Unfortunately, since the girl's dormitory was the only place she could be sure of not being bothered by Albus or Scorpius, she was forced to endure her dorm-mates opinions on the subject.

"You're probably just jealous that they're spending time with other girls," Yuni said matter-of-factly, a suggestion which everyone else seemed to agree with.

"I am not," Rose gasped in horror. "Al is my cousin! And Scorp is... is... my best friend. Why should I care what girls they want to hang out with?"

"Maybe you should make some new friends," Priya suggested, in her quiet way. "You do spent a lot of time with them."

Rose didn't quite know what to say to that, since it was true, but it just made her angrier all the same. "Al is being a git," she argued, mainly to herself. "Stringing all those girls along. And Scorp just said yes to the first random Gryffindor to ask him! He doesn't even know her! And all Al's girls just want to go with him because of who his dad is, and you can't tell me that shouldn't bother him, and I think it would have, last year."

"Boys get that way," Janey said knowingly. "I have three brothers. Trust me, once the hormones kick in, they'll go after any pretty face."

"Or a pretty bum," Yuni put in, and the girls giggled. Rose felt her face blush bright red.

"Screw them," Janey said shrugging. "Go have a good time with Gary, why not? You like him, right?"

Rose hesitated. "Er... he's a nice guy, I guess..."

"And nice looking!" Yuni agreed. "Sometimes he looks like he's a bit lost, but he is a Hufflepuff."

"That's House-ist," Rose sighed.

"True though."

Hours later, when everyone had gone to sleep, Rose lay looking up at the canopy of her four-poster bed, listening to the rhythmic sound of Midnight's purring where she lay curled up on the pillow.

She knew that boys 'got that way', as Janey put it, as well as anyone. She was old enough to remember how Teddy had got at Albus' age, less interested in playing with his Godfather's kids, spending most of his time writing bad poetry and spending hours getting his hair just right to impress girls. James and Fred had both got the girl bug early. But for some reason she had just never imagined it happening to Albus. And if you'd have told her a year or two ago that Scorpius would agree to go on a date with an almost complete stranger, she'd have laughed in your face.

She rolled over and tried to go to sleep, but it was several hours before her brain would stop worrying at her with excuses for her friends and for herself, trying to decide what she should do next.

~*-A-*~

Albus could tell how much it had cost Scorpius to come down on his side, and he was grateful for it. It was times like this you needed a best mate. They spent their evenings either in the common room or in the dormitory, Albus inventing Quidditch plays while Scorpius fiddled with his guitar. The last night before the Hogsmeade weekend, they were alone in the room, Gaius and Peter having stayed in the common room to do their homework.

Albus doodled on the corner of his playbook without really thinking about what he was supposed to be reading. "Am I really getting like James?" he asked eventually, unable to hold back his concern any longer.

Scorpius' fingers paused on the strings. He looked up and regarded him carefully. Albus almost squirmed under the examination - Scorpius could be quite intense when he was concentrating. "Not really," he said eventually. "I guess it's only natural you should have some things in common, being brothers."

"As long as we don't have being an ass in common," Albus muttered. There was a brief silence.

"You probably shouldn't have laughed at her," Scorpius said, putting his instrument down carefully, and Albus realised with chagrin that he'd started a Serious Conversation.

"Oh come on, you heard her. That was the most awkward proposal I ever heard." Scorpius gave him a hard look. "Oh fine." He chucked his quill onto the table and slumped in his chair. "It's just that I keep worrying why all these girls want me to go with them. Is it because they actually want to go with me, or because they just want to say they went with me?"

Scorpius smiled wryly. "The price of fame."

"It's not fame, it's noteriety," Albus shot back. "You get famous by actually doing stuff."

Scorpius sighed. "Honest truth?"

"God, please."

"The truth is, it might be a bit of both. People are going to be interested in you because of your father. Even Muggleborns know who he is within weeks of starting Hogwarts, so anyone who asks you out is going to know."

"Comforting, thank you," Albus muttered.

"You asked for the truth. But anyway, you can only hope there are other reasons. If you were an utter creep like Jian, I'd say it was all a fame thing. But you're not. So odds are at least one of them really likes you." He grinned, and Albus had to resist the urge to throw a pillow at him. "So which one did you pick, in the end?"

Albus sighed. "None of them."

"What?"

"Rose's right. It was dumb to let them all think I was going to go with them. I don't really want to spend my weekend with some girl I don't even know, anyway."

"Oh." Scorpius' face fell a little, and Albus realised his mistake.

"I'm sure Stacey's great, though," he said quickly.

"Yeah..."

"You'll have a good time."

"Mmhm."

"I'll probably just go to Honeydukes and WWW and make myself sick on sweets. I think Uncle George'll be there, he'll give me some free stuff."

"Okay."

"You can come too if you want, you know."

Scorpius made a face so pathetic that Albus almost laughed, but he held it back just in time. "Nah, I can't back out now," Scorp sighed. "Probably upset her no end. I'll see you when we get back."

"Yeah, probably a good idea," Albus agreed. "We need to spend less time together, people are going to start thinking we're a couple."

"Like you'd be so lucky," Scorpius muttered.

~*-S-*~

Scorpius started to wish, once the Hogsmeade trip finally came around, that he had spent more time getting to know Stacey beforehand. They had their first real conversation on the walk to the village, and he was surprised to find out that she had been born in Australia.

"You don't have an accent," he told her, almost accusatory.

"Neither do you," she shot back. "Didn't you grow up in France?"

"I phased it out," he told her. "It was just another thing for people to make fun of me for. You?"

She giggled. "I grew up here," she told him. "We moved here a couple years after I was born."

"Oh," he said, feeling a bit foolish after his initial confusion. "And Muggle Studies?"

"I was terrible at secrecy when I was little. Mum wanted to send me to a Muggle primary school, but I talked about magic all the time and we nearly got in trouble with the Ministry. I'm still a bit of a loudmouth, honestly. Muggle Studies was Mum's idea. I like it though."

"Me too," Scorpius said, glad they at least had an interest in common.

"Oh everyone knows you do," she said, grinning. "Did your parents want you to do it as well?"

"Er... not exactly," Scorpius replied. "They don't actually know I'm doing it - don't tell anyone!"

She stared at him, apparently shocked. "You're doing a subject they don't know about?"

"Well they weren't going to let me do it if I told them, so yeah. It's not like I've murdered anyone," he added uncomfortably, when she continued to stare as though he'd grown an extra nose.

"Sorry," she said, "it's just that I can't imagine doing anything like that. Don't they read your exam results?"

"I get the owls before my father does and I just magic off Muggle Studies and reseal it. He never notices." Saying it out loud, and seeing the expression on her face, he was sorry they had even visited the subject as he now felt as though he had done something really wrong, where before it had all been just necessary. "So… bookshop?"

"Let's do that last," she insisted. "Otherwise we'll just be carrying them around. Do you want a drink or something?"

"Sure, okay," he said gratefully, thankful at the suggestion that he could do something other than awkward conversation. They went to the Three Broomsticks and ordered two Butterbeers. Scorpius had the presence of mind to pay for the drinks, though he could ill afford it, he thought it was definitely expected. She didn't argue, in any case, but sank into a squashy booth seat, leaving him to squeeze in after her.

From where he was sitting he could see several of the other students, from nervous-looking third years being eyed carefully by the teachers, to a few swaggering seventh years. James Potter was, for once, not with the Weasley twins but sitting very close to his new girlfriend, his hand over hers as he whispered something in her ear.

"So," Stacey said after her first sip. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Scorpius blinked. This seemed like a very random enquiry. "You mean after Hogwarts?"

She laughed. "Yeah, of course."

"Right. Er. Well, not sure, really."

"What NEWTs are you taking?"

"I hadn't really thought about it." This wasn't exactly true, but he wasn't sure whether or not she would understand if he told her the truth. "Do you know?"

"I think I'll start my own business. Like Madam Malkin's, you know, but not just robes. More fashionable stuff. There's some new gear in the continent that's like a fusion of Muggle and Wizard clothes, really cool. I'll show you a catalogue."

Scorpius was non-plussed. His clothes were not really something he thought about beyond being clean and fitted. "Sounds good," he said, his throat constricting slightly so that his voice squeaked unhappily. Inwardly he cursed his late development - he had thought for sure that his voice was done breaking. But maybe it was just nerves. He certainly felt more nervous than he had at the beginning of this whole outing.

He was quickly realising that he was not good at talking to people he didn't really know. It was hard to show an interest in things he knew nothing about. And perhaps worst of all, he didn't think he could share anything about himself, not after her reaction to his semi-secret timetable. His family problems were something he didn't feel comfortable talking about with anyone, even his best friends. And as for his music - the one thing he really liked about himself - what if she laughed at him?

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of red hair, and looked over Stacey's shoulder to see Rose coming into the pub with Gary. Suddenly he felt an inexplicable surge of anger at them - or perhaps just Gary - as the big Hufflepuff boy helped Rose to take off her cloak and went to buy her a drink. What was she doing, coming to Hogsmeade with that boy she hardly even knew, just to show that she could?

"Scorpius?"

He tore his eyes away and looked back at Stacey.

"You're frowning again."

He ran a hand through his hair, scratching where the bristle at the back of his neck was starting to grow and itch. "Sorry. Go on."

She launched into another speech about the European wizard fashion label, and after a while he was counting down the time until they could leave, get their books and go back to school, and feeling horribly guilty for it.

~*-R-*~

Rose was also finding it hard to focus on her partner for the afternoon. He had brought her to the Three Broomsticks for drinks and seemed to be happy to just stay there for the whole afternoon, chatting to his mates in Hufflepuff, until she managed to convey as subtly as she could that she wanted to do some shopping. Lizzie and Belinda waved to her as they left, and she had to pretend she didn't see them giggling and blowing kisses. She went to the bookshop and the Apothecary, all the while feeling like she was boring Gary, who picked up a few things but didn't buy anything. Then she hesitated. "My uncle is supposed to be working," she said, pointing to Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes. "Is it okay if we pop in for a moment?"

He shrugged. "Sure, why not? I forgot you were one of those Weasleys."

Rose wasn't sure what to make of this. "Which Weasleys?"

"You know, the joke shop. It's just a name until you realise it's, like, your name."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "That makes no sense."

He smiled shyly. "If you say so."

They went into the shop, by now full of Hogwarts students. A few harried looking salespeople were doing their best to keep up with demand, running from the counter to the shelves to get products, put through purchases and answer questions. The crowd was thick and bustling, and she took Gary's hand in order to drag him through the throng towards the back room. The door was ajar and she went in.

The room was larger than the available standing space suggested, most of it being taken up by boxes and crates of stock. There was a desk and chair, behind which her Uncle George was sitting. Albus was there also, perching on the edge of the desk and eating some kind of orange toffee on a stick. He raised an eyebrow at them as they came in, and Rose dropped Gary's hand quickly as though it had burnt her.

"Rosie!" George exclaimed, standing and coming to give her a hug. "I was hoping I'd see you."

"It's madness out there," Rose said, putting a hand to her flushed face.

"Biggest sales day of the year for Hogsmeade," George said, grinning. "Who's your friend?"

"Gary Thornton," Gary introduced himself, shaking the man's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Good, good. Hufflepuff, eh? Well. Wheezes' fan? Excellent. Have a toffee." He handed them each one of the toffee sticks, which Rose regarded dubiously.

"What does it do?" she asked, peering at it as thought it might go off at any moment.

"Just turns your tongue different colours. Not everything we do is designed to kill or maim."

The things we do, Rose noted, not for the first time. George did almost all of the design and magic behind the products, but he still said 'we'. The casual listener might assume he was referring to his business partners, manufacturers and store assistants, but she knew he was unconsciously including his late brother.

"So how's things?" George said innocently. Rose sensed immediately that Albus had already told him about their argument. She shot him a glare, but he wasn't looking at her, suddenly very interested in his toffee stick.

"Fine thanks," she said defiantly.

"Not getting into any mischief?"

"No, uncle."

"Shame."

"You've got Fred, Roxie and James for that, George," Albus pointed out, the first thing he'd said so far.

"I know, but the more the merrier, right? What am I going to do when those three pack up and leave? Someone has to be there to keep me updated on the market."

"I'm sure Lily and Hugo would be more than happy to," Rose said flatly.

"Ravenclaws," George sighed, shaking his head.

Rose had wanted to spend some more time with her uncle, but she knew that Albus was resenting her interruption, and he didn't look like leaving any time soon. "Well then," she said decidedly. "Just wanted to say hello. Say hi to Mum and Dad for me."

"Will do." She could sense both their eyes on her and Gary as they left, and when she closed the door she thought she heard a chuckle. Suddenly she was so furious she could scream. Gary had to chase her out of the shop as she stormed through the crowd and out onto the street.

"Want to go back to the Three Broomsticks?" he asked.

She looked up at him. She had done all that she had come to do, after all, and he had been nice enough to trail around after her. She should probably do what he wanted to do, now, even though all she wanted was to go back to her dormitory and curl up on her bed with Midnight. "Okay then," she said, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She could tell straight away that she hadn't been nearly convincing enough.

"It's okay if you don't," he told her, earnestly. "I can walk you back."

"But I feel bad," she said, chewing anxiously on her lower lip. "You did all the stuff I wanted…"

"I don't mind, honestly," he said, so that she could almost believe him. "Come on." And he led her past the pub and back onto the path towards the school. She felt terrible, and even worse still when the walk back to the castle was completed in almost total silence, broken only by a half-hearted comment by him on the colour of the sky, which was turning a greyish purple as the sun dove behind clouds and drew intricate patterns in the atmosphere. She found she didn't have the heart to enjoy it, however.

They went through the grounds, up the main stairs and into the Entrance Hall, where Gary paused. "I'm this way," he said, gesturing in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room.

"I'm this way," Rose said, with a kind of guilty relief, nodding towards the marble staircase. Another awkward silence.

"So… I'll see you in Herbology," he said, smiling.

"Yeah," she smiled back at him. Perhaps it would be all right, after all.

Then he leaned forward, and almost before she knew what was happening, he had kissed her on the mouth.

For a second she was too shocked to do anything at all. Then, with a cold tremor that ran through her body like a ghost, she took a hurried step back and her hand went inexplicably to her pocket for her wand.

"Jees," Gary exclaimed, holding up his hands. "Sorry!"

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her eyes flooding with tears despite all her willpower bearing against it.

"Sorry, it's just… we were having a good time, you introduced me to your family, you let me walk you… I thought it was - "

With a thrill of agonised embarrassment, she realised that he had actually enjoyed the walk back. Where for Rose, who was normally a vibrant, vocal and expressive girl, it had been an agony of silence, he was a shy Hufflepuff boy who liked being quiet. "No!" she said, so firmly that she regretted it straight away, the expression on his face became pure hurt and confusion. "It's not - I - I'm sorry, it's just… I'm sorry."

"Oh."

"Sorry," she said again, crossing her arms over her chest as her hair fell forward into her face. She didn't know what else to say.

"No problem." He gave her one last look of unhappiness that made her stomach churn with guilt, and turned away. "See you."

She watched him for a few moments as he walked back towards Hufflepuff with his shoulders slumped forward, before she fled up the marble staircase. The only blessing, she thought, as she made her escape, was that no one had been around to see.

~*-S-*~

When Scorpius got back to the common room - at long, long last - he found Rose tucked into the corner of an armchair, a book propped up on her knees. He was glad to see her - since the start of her sulking fit, she had mostly stayed in the dormitory, where he didn't dare go even if he thought she would talk to him. He went over to her and collapsed face-first into the nearest sofa. "Hi," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the squashy cushions.

"Hi," he heard her say, a strange tone to her voice that he couldn't quite place. "How was your day?"

"Bloody awful," he admitted, pulling himself up with reluctance onto his elbows. She was still looking down at her book, but the way she was sitting and the way she spoke made him feel almost at once that something was wrong. "You okay?"

"Mm hm."

He sat up and ducked his head to see under the shelter of her hair. He frowned when he saw that her eyes were red-rimmed. "You've been crying."

"No I haven't." But her voice caught and gave the lie to her words. Then she made a sad little noise and covered her face with her hands, and he didn't know what to do. Girls crying was not something he had any idea how to deal with.

"Rose…"

"Oh just go away," she sniffed. "I'm fine."

"No you aren't," he said, getting up and crossing to her chair. Midnight was curled up on the chair's arm, and she hissed at him angrily as he put out a tentative hand to her shoulder.

"Oh hush, you silly cat," she said, wiping at her eyes. But she didn't object to his hand.

A few people in the common room were staring, and Scorpius glared at them. "Come upstairs with me," he said firmly.

To his surprise, she didn't argue, but let him drag her out of the chair and up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Peter and Gaius were in there, but at Scorpius' pointed look, they gathered up their game of Exploding Snap and vacated the room. He sat her on his bed and brushed her hair back from her face. "Talk to me?" he suggested. If there was one thing he had learned from Stacey, it was that girls liked to talk.

She looked up at him and burst into tears almost immediately. He was forced to sit awkwardly on the edge of the bed, one foot slowly going numb, with his arm around her as she sobbed into his robes. She had to lean down considerably to do so, since he was still a head shorter than her, but if she was getting a crick in her neck, she didn't seem to care at all. He patted her hair and tried to make sense of the snatches of explanation that came between sobs.

"He did what?" he demanded, when she got to the climax of the story.

"Oh it was my fault," she sniffed, which in no way made Scorpius feel any less angry. "It's not that he did it, it's just that… that it was… it was my first kiss and it was … it was so terrible."

Scorpius recovered from his plots of revenge against Gary momentarily enough to say, "what did he do, slobber in your ear?"

She laughed wetly through her tears, and it was at that point that Albus came in. "What's going on?" he said, a concerned edge to his voice. "Peter said you were having a mental breakdown, or something."

"Oh Al." Rose sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Al, I'm so sorry for being so stupid. You were both right, it was silly and selfish and I was jealous - let's please be friends again?"

"We weren't not friends," Al said uncomfortably, coming over to them. "What's up with you?"

"Boy problems," Scorpius explained, rolling his eyes, and Rose punched him half-heartedly in the stomach. "Ow!"

"Was it Thornton?" Albus growled. "I'll hex his hands off."

Rose put her hand out to him and he reluctantly allowed her to pull him onto the bed so that she could hug him. Scorpius took the opportunity to shake out the numbness in his foot. "I missed you two," she sighed. "Let's not fight ever again."

"Deal," Scorpius said, and Albus shrugged.

"What's in this arrangement for us?" he asked with mock superstition.

"I'll try extra hard in Quidditch from now on," she promised him. "And I won't say another bad word against Scorp's music - unless he misses any classes," she added quickly.

"Are we allowed to date?" Albus enquired.

"No," Rose giggled. "I want you both just for myself."

"Rosie!" Albus protested. "Yuck."

"Not like that, plonker," she said, putting her arms around both of them. "Just promise we'll stay friends. No matter what happens."

"I still dunno," Albus sighed. "It seems incredibly final. Can we read the small print?"

Rose started laughing, unable to hold back, and everything seemed to be all right again.

Scorpius, nevertheless, determined to keep a close eye on both Rose and Gary Thornton in future.

Chapter Text

2022-2023

~*-S-*~

Scorpius felt a bit guilty when he found himself looking forward to Christmas at the Longbottoms' before he had even been asked. He was very sensible of the fact that they had, for three years now in a row, offered to share with him a day that was usually reserved for family. Of course, the pub had hundreds of visitors on Christmas, and they always claimed that one more made no difference, but it wasn't as if the pub guests got to sit with the family in their own dining room.

"Course you're coming," Lizzie said, when he tentatively and awkwardly enquired. "Thought you knew that already." She tossed back her long blonde hair and turned their Tamerine bush towards her. Scorpius, despite all his best efforts, was still no great shakes at Herbology. For a Ravenclaw he was positively dismal. Sitting with Lizzie in class helped, since she was a natural with plants and was able to explain things more patiently than Albus or Rose would have. "Everyone's looking forward to seeing you," she said now, stroking the leaves with her wand and smiling when they quivered in response.

"Everyone?" Scorpius said, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, Mum is," Lizzie conceded. "And Alice will too, I expect, when she sees you."

Scorpius doubted rather that the three year old girl would remember him in the slightest since last year. "Will Tony be there?"

"Oh yeah, he's coming back for a week. Mum will be fussing over him a lot, fair warning, but it's own fault for running off to Africa as soon as his NEWTs came."

Scorpius privately thought that being a Cursebreaker in Africa would be a pretty awesome job. Tony had come top in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology and Potions, much to his father's obvious delight, though of course he couldn't boast about it except to other teachers.

"You have to take NEWT Herbology to be a Cursebreaker," Albus pointed out cruelly when he brought this up at dinner.

Scorpius sighed. "Yeah. I wasn't really considering it. It'd just be nice to have an excuse to travel around a bit. See more of the world."

"You could do that without an excuse," Rose suggested. "Just for fun."

Scorpius shrugged ruefully, thinking that no matter how many NEWTs he got, his father would not be okay with travelling 'just for fun' under any circumstances.

It was difficult as usual to say goodbye to Rose and Albus as they left for the Christmas holidays. He moped around Ravenclaw tower for a few days, doing homework in dribs and drabs and occasionally borrowing a school broom to go flying. He had resigned himself to the fact that he would never be much of a Quidditch player, but he thought cross country flying might not be out of the question.

As usual there were very few Ravenclaws left in the tower, which made for a very lonely holiday.

Finally he woke up on Christmas day to a small pile of presents on his bed. He sat up eagerly and turned them over, surprised to find that there were more than usual. He opened Rose's first. A Muggle book - as if he didn't already have enough of those to read - and he smiled ruefully when he saw the title. He must have told her that he liked Robin Hood, right? She couldn't have just known that…

Albus had sent him a book on musical charms that had him engrossed for at last half an hour as he flicked through the pages. Eventually he had to force himself to put it down in order to look at his other presents. There were two more, one large and one small. The large one turned out to be from his father. The note attached read:

Scorpius,

This box is spelled to keep anything you need safe. Use wisely.

Intrigued, he unwrapped the plain paper to find a wooden box, quite heavy, with iron hinges and a small round keyhole. There were some strange runes around the side of the box, burnt black into the wood. He studied them for a moment but was nonplussed. If only he hadn't dropped Ancient Runes in third year! He could ask Rose or Albus when they got back, he supposed. He opened the box experimentally, to find it lined with velvet, and a small scroll with instructions for using the box in a just-legible spidery script. The keyhole was for a wand, it turned out, and only the first wand to close the box would be able to open it again.

He puzzled over the gift, which was the first his father had ever sent, if you didn't count the money, which had been sent by his mother in any case. He wondered if the man was trying to tell him something - about secrets? The only secret Scorpius could think of that his father knew about was why his mother had left. Or perhaps his father was telling him that he knew one of Scorpius secrets - he shivered inwardly at this very real possibility. There were so many by now that it was hard to keep track of them, and the only reason he'd kept them for so long was that his father chose to isolate himself in his study, miles away in France, with no contact to anyone at Hogwarts. With a shudder he remembered the day he had come home from school, when his father had attacked him just for wanting to know the whereabouts of his own mother. How far would he go if he knew that his best friend was Harry Potter's son? But then why would he be giving him a way to keep more secrets? It didn't make sense.

In the end he gave up. Maybe it was just an old box he had found lying around (though a suspicious voice in his mind pointed out that the box looked new - and expensive). He turned his attention to the last gift. It was from Stacey.

Dear Scorpius,

Saw this and thought of you. See you in class when term starts!

He turned the little package over in his hands a few times. He had sat next to Stacey in Muggle Studies since the Hogsmeade village, but always managed to avoid her outside of class. It wasn't that he didn't like her, she was all right enough to get along with, but he wanted to make it clear that he had no further interest in dating her. He didn't think he could sit through another conversation about European wizarding fashion, and she was so disapproving of his familial relationships that it was difficult to share anything private with her whatsoever. He didn't want her to make the same mistake Thornton had made with Rose - he wasn't sure either of them could survive the embarrassment. She didn't seem to mind too much, and it had seemed that he could get away with it without having an awkward conversation. Until now, anyway.

He undid the wrapping very slowly, dreading whatever was inside. Eventually the contents of the gift fell into his lap, and he laughed. It was a pack of flash cards for wizards, with short explanations and translations of Muggle phrases. He flicked through them with amusement. He knew he was still a novice when it came to girls, but it seemed that she couldn't have sent a less romantic gift. It seemed that she just wanted to be friends after all.

~*-S-*~

Christmas dinner came around too quickly, in the end. He had been so busy trying out some of the musical charms from Albus' present that he nearly didn't notice the time. He got dressed quickly in the shirt and trousers he had bought at Hogsmeade - between the Three Broomsticks, the bookshop and meeting all of Stacey's friends in the square. He was about to leave and was packing his guitar into its case when an idea struck him, and after a short internal struggle, took it with him.

Neville and Lizzie were waiting for him as usual in his office, and though they gave him some interested looks, didn't comment on the case slung across his back. He had to take it off to carry it through the Floo, and then Hannah was there to greet him. "Scorpius," she said, delightedly, and came over to hug him. He felt a little pang as her arms closed around him, remembering suddenly how long it had been since he had seen his mother, let alone hugged her. But then Hannah was ushering him into the dining room. "You brought your guitar!" she said, with pleased surprise. "How nice, you must play for us later - how are you? You look just the same!"

Scorpius sighed. "Yeah, I still hold out hope for a last minute growth spurt," he said, crossing his fingers dramatically.

The rest of the Longbottoms were already seated at the table. Tony, who on Scorpius' first visit had been pale and moody, was now lounging back in his chair, tanned, and, there was only one way to describe it - cool. In fact, Scorpius thought he looked very like Neville must have at eighteen. He wore a fiery-red robe open over a black vest and trousers. He returned Scorpius' wave with a smile that carried no trace of the sulky boy he had been at fifteen.

Alice was sitting in a chair raised to allow her to reach the table, swinging her chubby little legs, sporting a bright red ribbon in her short brown hair. "Alice, you remember Scorpius, don't you?" Hannah prompted, pointing him out to her daughter. "Say Happy Christmas!"

"Heee Cwismas!" Alice giggled.

"Happy Christmas," Scorpius said, grinning. "You've grown a lot!"

"Too fast," Hannah said fondly, kissing the little girl on top of her head.

They were all about to sit down when one of the bar staff knocked on the door looking harried. Hannah hurried over and came back frowning.

"Problem?" Neville asked.

"It's all falling apart down there," Hannah said. "I'll have to go help, I'm afraid."

"But you'll miss dinner!" Lizzie exclaimed.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, they just can't manage without me at the moment."

"Suggestion?" Neville put in. "Why don't we all move downstairs, that way we'll still see you, me and Tony can give you a hand if you need it…"

"What about me?" Lizzie demanded.

"Lizzie, you have a guest…" Hannah pointed out, and Scorpius suddenly felt extremely awkward and in the way.

"I could help too," he said hurriedly.

"Yes!" Lizzie said quickly. "Scorp's been a waiter, Mum."

"Have you?" Neville was frowning at him.

"Yeah, two summers," Scorpius said quickly, leaving out the fact that the last summer had been a year and a half ago, and he hadn't been a waiter so much as general dogsbody. "It was a busy restaurant too, I'm sure I could - "

"All right, all right, you can all help," Hannah said, throwing on her apron. "So long as someone stays with Alice, unless you want to suggest that she starts carrying plates around herself!"

The Leaky Cauldron was indeed full to bursting, and some customers were clearly becoming impatient for their Christmas dinner. The staff, though clearly stressed by the unexpected flood of people, were all friendly and welcomed all the help they could get. Neville went to help tend the bar while Scorpius and Tony joined forces in getting food out to the tables. Scorpius soon got the hang of their numbering system and, being smaller, was much more able to manoeuvre around the heaving tables, even if he did struggle a little under the weight of some of the courses. He worked up a sweat within half an hour, and shortly afterwards was happy to swap with Lizzie, who was minding Alice in the kitchen. The Longbottoms' Christmas dinner had been left in a haphazard pile on a counter, from which the girls had been picking bits and pieces, and Scorpius gratefully started digging into some turkey. He was a bit nervous at first at being in charge of Alice, who was, for her size, incredibly wriggly and inexplicably heavy, but he discovered the trick of bouncing her up and down on his knee when she got fidgety, and within minutes she seemed to have decided that they were best friends.

Tony came back after a while and started his own dinner on a hastily-washed plate, shaking his head when Scorpius asked if he should relieve him. "We can afford a break, I think," he said. "Most people are eating, and the people who are getting paid for this have things under control now. Thanks for helping out though, it's chief of you."

"No problem," said Scorpius.

"Man I missed this food," Tony said, shaking his head as he dug into his turkey. "When I think of the years I spent moaning about how all I got at home was pub fare!"

"You did?" Scorpius couldn't imagine anyone complaining of Hannah's menu.

"Oh yeah, I was the worst kind of teenager, you must have noticed. Still a bit of a smartarse, really, but my mentor's working on beating that out of me." He grinned, and Scorpius realised this was a joke. "You must have thought I was a right git."

Scorpius wondered awkwardly how he was supposed to answer this.

"Thought so," Tony nodded, correctly taking his silence as assent. "It's no excuse, but I was pretty sore back then. Dad being my teacher and my Head of House, and all. Got better after fifth year, but I just felt like I had to prove something all the time."

"I get that," Scorpius said meaningfully.

Tony paused in the act of picking apart his turkey with his fingers. "Yeah, I guess you do," he said after a moment.

"Scor!" Alice prompted then, flexing her fingers in demand for more food.

"Is she being a nuisance?" Hannah asked, bustling in from the bar with gravy stains on her apron, and lifting Alice onto her hip while the child made whimpering protests at being separated from her new friend.

"No, not at all," Scorpius said quickly. He realised he quite liked looking after Alice, and, with another one of those uncomfortable pangs that being around the Longbottom family seemed to set off, wondered if he would get along so well with his own brother, if they ever met.

Lizzie and Neville came back for food before much longer, and they ate around the tiny table in the kitchen, informally with all the wrong types of cutlery and sometimes none at all, heaping food randomly onto plates or scooping directly into their mouths off of platters. Despite the madness of it all though, Scorpius found himself having the best time he had had in ages.

When they had eaten, Hannah took Alice upstairs to bed, and everyone else went back into the bar, apparently to socialise. Scorpius went with them, unsure of what else to do, as Neville introduced him to some of the regular patrons.

"Dean!" he exclaimed when he reached one of the back tables. "I didn't know you were here! When did you get back?"

"Last week," replied the tall, dark man, standing to shake Neville's hand. "The food here is good as ever mate, and the alcohol even more so, tell your wife for me."

"Tell her yourself, she'll be down soon," Neville said, slapping the man on the back. "Scorpius, this is Dean Thomas, one of my old Gryffindor Housemates. Dean, Scorpius Malfoy."

"Thought it might be," Dean said, turning his attention to Scorpius. "He brought our food - I tell you mate, I damn near shat myself."

"Dean," Neville said warningly. Scorpius looked up at his teacher, startled. He had never heard that tone of voice from him before.

"No offence meant," Dean amended, nodding his head in Scorpius' direction. "But he is the spit and image - I nearly went for my wand." Scorpius realised miserably that if he was Neville's housemate, he would have known his own father as well.

"Sorry," Scorpius mumbled.

Dean looked as though he might be about to say something else, but Neville interrupted him. "Scorpius, do me a favour, hop back to the bar and see if Evan needs any help."

Scorpius nodded, and fled. He risked one quick back, but could only see Neville's back as the conversation continued. The look on the tall man's face though, was that of someone being admonished.

He helped the barman wipe glasses for a while, until Neville came back around and beckoned to him. Scorpius followed him to a door that led out to a walled courtyard - the entrance, he would find out later, to Diagon Alley. "Sorry about that," Neville said, before Scorpius could say anything. He looked embarrassed, Scorpius realised. Or even ashamed.

"It's okay," Scorpius replied hurriedly. "Really, I'm used to it - I don't mind."

"People don't have any right to say things like that to you," Neville said, his brows knitted tightly. "You don't have to put up with it - or apologise! For Merlin's sake, it's not your fault people are idiots."

"I know."

"Dean's a good guy," Neville explained, sighing. "He just went through a lot - we all did - hard to forget, sometimes… he's been in Italy, wouldn't have heard about you being at Hogwarts…"

"It's really okay," Scorpius said.

Neville looked as though he would have liked to say more, but thought better of it. "I didn't know you were a waiter," he said instead.

"At Le Moulin, in Paris," Scorpius explained, rubbing his arms - it was freezing in the courtyard, and the corners of the walls were decorated with little heaps of snow.

"And… your father was all right with that, was he?"

"Yes sir," Scorpius said, then, at Neville's dubious expression, realised that his teacher was imagining the worst. "He was!" Scorpius protested, then realised that this was not entirely true. "I mean, he agreed to let me take the job." This was true, after all, he just hadn't known that there was any more to it than that first summer. "We needed the money, and he let mother had a job, so I said why not me, and he said yes as long as I let him manage the money."

This did not seem to mollify Neville at all. "It helped buy my school books and robes and things," Scorpius tried.

"I see." He still didn't look happy, but to Scorpius' relief did not pursue the subject. "Well, you're good at it. Thank you for helping, I know it's probably not what you expected when we invited you…"

"Oh I don't mind," Scorpius said, grinning. "I enjoyed it!"

At this point the door opened and Hannah poked her head out. "There you are!" she said, relieved. "What on earth are you doing out in the freezing cold - come in at once, both of you! Scorpius, I was wondering if you should like to play us some music now, before the drunk singing starts? I'm sure everyone would love to hear -"

Scorpius slowly realised that she meant he should play for the entire pub. He wouldn't have minded just the Longbottoms, he thought he could have faced up to any teasing from Lizzie or polite fiction of interest from Tony, but everyone? He felt himself go pale despite the sudden heat of the pub as they stepped inside. "Er…" he stammered. Hannah was looking at him expectantly, and when he opened his mouth to refuse, he found himself saying "Yeah, all right."

Are you mad? he demanded of himself as he went slowly up the stairs to the apartment to get his guitar. The biggest audience he had ever had was his three dormitory mates, who were not so much an audience as a group of people who, for the sin of living with him, had no choice but to listen to him practice. He paused on the stairs on the way down again, feeling his stomach roll and half hoping he would throw up so he could plead over-indulgence.

But that would hurt Hannah's feelings, he realised dimly, and made himself go down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen. Lizzie was taking her turn with Alice, and she looked sympathetically at him at the look on his face.

"You don't have to, you know," she reminded him. "Mum can get carried away, just tell her you'd rather not."

Scorpius took a deep breath. "Your mum and dad have been nice to me, and they didn't have to," he reminded her, though part of him was protesting in her favour. "They let me share their Christmas. Anyway if I'm going to be a musician I have to start somewhere, right?"

She grinned and lifted Alice onto her hip. "C'mon then. We don't get live music a lot, but there's a sort of fold-out stage." She led him into the pub and past the tables, still full of people taking their time over their Christmas dinners; couples and families alike. There was indeed a small platform in the corner that Scorpius' hadn't noticed while hauling food between tables. Someone had thoughtfully put a stool on it, but Scorpius had to take a couple more deep breaths before he could bring himself to step onto it, where everyone could see him. As he sat and swung his guitar around, however, no one turned to stare at him. In fact, everyone kept on with their conversations, drowning out Lizzie saying 'good luck!' as she went to stand at the bar with her parents. Scorpius relaxed a little. If no one was going to take any notice of him anyway, surely it didn't matter what he did...

He strummed a very experimental chord, leaning close to the strings to hear the tuning, and as he raised his head, the babble gradually faded away, until there was almost total silence, except for the occasional clink of glasses. Scorpius swallowed, his fingers paused over the strings. His mouth felt dry as a bone and his leg was shaking under the curve of his instrument, his stomach felt as though he had spent half a day at sea. More silence.

Suddenly he realised he couldn't go through with it, but the thought of the humiliation of just getting up and leaving kept him frozen in his seat. What the hell was he going to do?

Then he heard a little child's giggle and the word "Scor!" shouted into the frozen silence. He looked up to see Alice and Lizzie waving from the bar, and Neville nodded encouragingly. Hannah made silent clapping motions, and he felt the worst of his terror fade. Keeping his eyes on the family who had been kind enough to welcome into their home, four years in a row, he took a deep breath, and sang into the silence;

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

Just like the ones I used to know

Where the treetops glisten,

and children listen

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas With every Christmas card I write May your days be merry and bright And may all your Christmases be white I'm dreaming of a white Christmas With every Christmas card I write May your days be merry and bright And may all your Christmases be white

He felt a flood of sweet relief go through him as he played the final chord and the room burst into applause. He didn't care if they were clapping because he was good, or because it was over, or just because they'd had a few too many Firewhiskeys, just that they were clapping, and the sound of the room clapping was like an elixir that gave him the strength to stand up, bow, and leave the stage. When he finally reached the bar, Hannah came around to give him another hug, and Tony shot him a thumbs up. Suddenly it didn't matter that he felt as though he was about to collapse. He was no longer scared of anything, and he knew that this - this - was what he was supposed to do for the rest of his life.

~*-S-*~

It was a good thing he decided this, because an incident a few weeks into the start of term was fated to put him off one of his former favourite subjects forever.

He woke drowsily to Albus yelling his name. "Scorp, wake up! C'mon damnit! SCORPIUS!"

For some reason, despite the obvious urgency, he couldn't be bothered to sit up. "What?" he murmered, opening his eyes a crack to see a pale bespectacled face looking down at him in panic. "M'tired."

"Mate, I've been trying to wake you for five minutes. Peter's already gone for Madam Pomfrey - no, don't you dare go back to sleep again - "

When he woke the next time, he felt a little more alert, Madam Pomfrey was leaning over him and there was a taste like grass in his mouth, which was as dry as parchment. "What 'appened?" he asked, rolling his tongue around in an effort to regain some moisture.

"You had an allergic reaction," the old nurse informed him crossly, as though this was his fault. "Did you have Potions yesterday?"

"Yeah..."

"What ingredients did you use?"

Scorpius stared up at her blankly. Tuesday morning suddenly seemed like a hundred years ago.

"We were making nightlights," Gaius volunteered. Scorpius saw the three other Ravenclaw boys hovering nearby. "Those glow-in-the-dark floating globes - Professor Patil thought it would be a fun -"

"I asked for ingredients, Mr Cooper, not your memoires. Did you use moonsilver?"

"Yes," Albus cut in quickly. "Dust of moonsilver - Professor Patil said that's why the globes are so expensive."

"Moonsilver is a rare but not unheard-of allergen among wizards," Madam Pomfrey said sternly. "Did Professor Patil mention that?"

The three boys looked at each other.

"Er... am I going to be okay?" Scorpius asked. His head still felt very heavy and his eyelids even more so. When he tried to move, his head swam uncomfortably.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "This time, Mr Malfoy. Just don't handle any more dust of moonsilver without protective gloves and a facemask, and whatever you do, don't let anyone ever give you Veritaserum. That potion is laden with moonsilver, as you will no doubt learn at NEWT level."

"Fat chance of me doing NEWT potions," Scorpius complained after Madam Pomfrey had left and he had drunk the entire jug of water on the nightstand.

"You used to love Potions," Albus reminded him. "Remember?"

"That was back when I didn't know I was allergic to random ingredients," Scorpius replied. "Professor Patil's all right, but she's not like old Hillburn used to be." Hillburn probably wouldn't have nearly killed me, he thought ruefully. "Anyway it doesn't really matter what NEWTs I do. I'm going to be a musician."

"Yeah mate, good luck telling that to Professor Flitwick." Albus rolled his eyes. He and Rose had been surprised to hear of his Christmas performance, but were noticeably less than sanguine about his fresh and firm announcement of his life goal.

Scorpius sighed. "Times like this I wish I was in Gryffindor," he said. "Neville wouldn't think I was being silly."

~*A*~

Scorpius was not the only one concerned about his NEWT selection. Of course, it depended on one's OWLS, so there was no real need to decide straight away, but even the Ravenclaws, by the end of February, were starting to feel the need to prioritise their OWL study towards subjects that were really going to matter in the long run. Albus felt guilty doing a rushed job on his Care of Magical Creatures homework, but he could only hope Hagrid would understand that he needed to read three chapters for Transfiguration and memorise all the ways of defeating various dark creatures for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Luckily he already knew quite a lot about werewolves, but he failed to imagine what possible scenario would lead to him encountering a Grindylow, in real life.

"Didn't your dad fight a Grindylow during the Triwizard Tournament?" was Rose's answer to this complaint.

"That's not the point, there's not going to be another Tournament, if there was, I wouldn't be in it, and I have no desire to go splashing around in the deep end of the lake," Albus said firmly. But he did want to come top in Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was practically expected of him. And if he hadn't known that before, it was brought into sharp relief by the announcement that the Recent Wizarding History class would be held on the 10th of March.

Albus already knew about the class, of course; his brother and older cousins had all taken it towards the end of their fifth year. It was held with all four houses at once, and taught by Professor McGonagall herself. It had been introduced when it became necessary to educate the new generation of Hogwarts students about the Year of Terror and the war that had almost destroyed wizarding society in Britain, and held in fifth year despite the chaos of OWLs because it was the earliest age the students were considered able to handle the realities of the story. James had not said much about it at the time, but Al had sensed that his brother's classmates, even those he had been close with for years, were suddenly treating him differently, and privately dreaded the same thing happening to him. Scorpius was also miserable, not without good reason. Even Rose seemed nervous, and she was usually above such petty concerns.

"At least it's only one day," she said, though she didn't sound convinced. But it was a whole day.

When it came, they filed into the biggest classroom in the school, tables shoved together to fit them all in, feeling eyes on them already.

"Hurry up, please," Professor McGonagall called out from the head of the classroom. "It's not a formal dinner, your seating position is not important." The Gryffindors and Slytherins bunched up on opposite sides of the classroom, with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs higgledy piggledy in the middle.

"Welcome," McGonagall continued, coming to stand in front of the teacher's desk. Despite her advanced age, she stood tall and ramrod-straight, her pepper-grey hair pulled back into a tight bun. "As I'm sure you all know, today will be dedicated to educating you about the last rise and fall of Voldemort -" a few people jumped - "and to answer any questions you may have. I teach this class one day each year, so that Hogwarts students are prepared to ensure that such a terrible period in our history is not repeated.

"Some of you will know, personally, some of the people we are about the discuss, and it may even concern your fathers and mothers, grandparents, aunts and uncles. I understand that today may difficult for some of you, for various reasons." It might have been Albus' imagination, but her gaze seemed to pause over the three Ravenclaws and Lizzie, sitting with them. Scorpius shuffled down in his chair. "If it becomes too much for you, please let me know." She raised her wand and used it to guide the chalk onto the chalkboard, drawing a timeline as she spoke.

"I would like to ask you to raise your hand if someone in your family was killed during the war."

Albus raised his hand and so did Rose, next to him, and Lizzie, on her other side. Over half the people in the room raised their hands, including Jian and a few of the other Slytherins. Scorpius was trying to sink even lower into his seat.

"The Year of Terror began with the death of Albus Dumbledore and ended on May 2nd 1998, the day we commemorate every year to remember those who died for us, and those who were killed needlessly during the rise of Voldemort in the 1990s."

The chalk filled in the dates near the end of the timeline, and then McGonagall began at the beginning, describing how Voldemort had begun his political journey, condoning pureblood superiority and recruiting dark wizards to his cause. She told of how Dumbledore had formed the Order of the Phoenix to oppose him, and with another piece of chalk wrote their names on the board, the original members, in alphabetical order.

Sirius Black, Edgar Bones, Caradoc Dearborn, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Dodge, Aberforth Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore, Benjy Fenwick, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Rubeus Hagrid, Alice Longbottom, Frank Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Alastor Moody, Peter Pettigrew, Sturgis Podmore, James Potter, Lily Potter, Fabien Prewett, Gideon Prewett, Severus Snape, Emmeline Vance.

"Of these twenty-five," McGonagall continued. "Only five have survived. Two died of natural causes, the other eighteen were murdered by Voldemort or his Death Eaters, or were injured and died later from their injuries." No one made a sound; she had their full attention. "On Halloween night, 1981," she continued, and Albus resisted the urge to cover his face as she told the story of how Voldemort had attempted, and failed to kill the infant Harry Potter. "What happened that night was unclear for many years to come," she explained. "And the majority of the wizarding world believed Voldemort to have been killed, although his body was never found…." and so on, and so on. There was a break for lunch before they even got to the Year of Terror.

"He was fourteen!" Lizzie exclaimed as they pushed food unenthusiastically around their plates.

"What?" Albus roused himself from his stupor, thinking he must have missed half a conversation.

"Your dad, he was only fourteen when Voldemort rose again, and he fought him and still got away!"

"I thought the bit with the Basilisk was the best, when he saved your Mum's life," Belinda said, wide-eyed. As a Muggleborn, most of the story was new to her, except bits and pieces of common room gossip.

Albus nodded. "Yeah, he is… great," he said. He sighed and shrugged at Rose. "I give up. There's no point in trying to live up to it. I'm fifteen and I have yet to defeat a single dark wizard."

"Only because there aren't any left," Lizzie said loyally. "I'm sure you'd defeat them easily if there were still some around."

"Of course there are some left," Rose said sternly. "Or we wouldn't have Aurors."

"All right, no dark lords, then," Lizzie countered.

"Thank goodness," Belinda shuddered. "It all sounds horrible, imagine being twelve years old and fighting a snake bigger than you that can kill with its eyes." There was a momentary silence as they all considered this.

Albus knew his father was a hero. He was reminded of it all the time. And he was proud of him, and looked up to him, of course he did, and sometimes knowing that was the best motivation he could possibly have for doing anything at all… but when you put it like that, some of the insane things he'd done…

"Almost time to go back in," Rose said quietly.

"I dunno if I can," said a small voice from beside Albus. He was surprised to see Scorpius' looking more like the terrified first-year version of himself than he had in a long time. They all stared at him, sitting there hunched into himself, unable to meet anyone's eyes.

"Tell Professor McGonagall you don't want to, then," Rose suggested, but he shot her such a dark look that she shut up instantly.

Albus understood that being labelled as a coward would not help his friend's situation any, but privately he thought it couldn't make things much worse.

Chapter Text

2023

~*A*~

If the first part of the Recent Wizarding History class had been uncomfortable, the next part was terrible. The forty-odd students sat in utter silence as McGonagall began the story of the Year of Terror, which began when Draco Malfoy had opened the way into Hogwarts for an army of Death Eaters, resulting in Albus Dumbledore's death.

After a while, Scorpius crossed his arms on the desk and leant his head on them, so that no one could see his face. Albus could feel the eyes of some of the Gryffindors glaring in their direction. And still they had to sit and endure an explanation of what the Ministry, under Voldemort's rule, had done to Halfblood and Muggleborn families. What Hogwarts had been like under the Headmastery of Severus Snape, how students had been tortured… Albus felt sick after a while, and Rose, Lizzie and Belinda were all pale and silent beside him.

He realised as the explanation continued that what McGonagall was telling them was, while horrible, not the whole truth. She was vague on the question of the Horcruxes, mentioning only that Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the Year of Terror tracking down powerful dark objects that were tied to Voldemort's power, like the diary. She didn't mention the Hallows at all. He exchanged glances with Rose, and knew that she saw the gaps in the story as well. He had no intention of bringing it up, however - anything to make this peculiar form of torture go faster.

And then it was almost over - McGonagall scrubbed the board clean and used it to illustrate the Battle of Hogwarts. A ragged cheer went up from the Gryffindors and a couple of Hufflepuffs when she described how Professor Longbottom had summoned Dumbledore's Army, but it soon faded as the old woman's voice cracked slightly, describing the fight that ensued. Students, teachers and others who had been killed in front of her eyes, or out of her sight.

"It was then we heard Voldemort's voice," she continued, gathering herself for the last part. "He told us that Harry Potter was dead, that we should surrender and our lives might be spared. There was confusion, and despair, for we had put almost all our hope on the shoulders of a seventeen year old boy." She sighed heavily. "We went out into the grounds, and I saw Professor Hagrid carrying Harry's body in his arms. I thought we had lost, then, and I was not the only one. Neville Longbottom then did something so foolhardy - and yet one of the bravest things I have ever seen - he defied Voldemort to his face. Voldemort summoned the Sorting Hat from the Headmaster's office, forced it onto his head, and set it alight."

Albus heard Scorpius gasp, and saw that his friend had come out of his ball of misery and was paying rapt attention. Lizzie had tears brimming in her eyes.

"I thought he was killed, another one of my students, killed. But then all was confusion, the giants and the centaurs began to charge from the forest - but in the next moment, Longbottom had pulled off the hat and pulled out a sword. I found out later that it the sword of Gryffindor that Harry had recovered from the Chamber of Secrets. And before any of us could realise what was happening, he cut off the head of the great Basilisk, that sat by Voldemort's side."

The class let out a collective breath.

"I found out later that Harry had asked him to do this, if he had the chance. The snake carried within it some of Voldemort's power, and he could not be killed while it still lived. But the fighting had begun again in earnest and we had no time to realise the meaning of what had happened. We were forced back into the castle by the fighting, and then… then…" She paused, as though momentarily at a loss for words. "Harry was there. Alive. To this day I am not sure of how he survived. He told us not to help, that he must fight Voldemort alone." Another silence, this once seeming to last for an age. "The duel was short, one of the shortest I have ever witnessed. Voldemort cast the Killing Curse, and Harry cast a disarming charm. The two spells collided, and Voldemort fell to the ground, dead."

Albus jumped as some people cheered. It seemed very loud after such a long time listening just to McGonagall's voice growing steadily hoarser.

There was only a little more. McGonagall talked about the rebuilding of the school, and gave a brief explanation of Snape's role, a kind of belated behind-the-scenes that, despite his impatience for it to be over, Albus thought did not do it justice.

"I thank you for listening," she said finally. "If any of you have any concerns, I invite you to come and see me during office hours, or ask your Head of House - they are all well versed on the subject, I assure you. In the meantime, you are all dismissed, and I wish you all good luck in your OWLs. Mr Potter, Miss Longbottom, stay behind, please."

Albus blinked, even as most of the group fled the classroom. Scorpius didn't even look at him but made his escape with his head down. "You should go with him," he said to Rose.

"I think he wants to be alone for a while," she said sadly. "Anyway I want to ask Professor McGonagall something."

McGonagall did not object to her staying, but waited until everyone else had left before speaking. "Are you all right, Miss Longbottom?" she asked with a gentleness that before today, Albus had not thought her capable of.

Lizzie wiped her eyes and nodded. "Yes, Professor McGonagall. I didn't mean to get so weepy, it's just..."

"Your father told me that he had told you the details," McGonagall explained, offering her a bottle-green handkerchief.

"He did, just… not like you told it, Professor. He makes it sound like it was easy… I mean, not easy, exactly but…"

"I am sorry to have upset you," the old Headmistress said. "Professor Longbottom will be in his office, I'm sure, if you want to visit him."

Lizzie nodded. "I will, thank you Professor." She left, leaving Albus and Rose standing uncomfortably in front of the desk.

"Well?" McGonagall said, expectantly.

Albus had no idea what she wanted him to say, but Rose interrupted before he could express any confusion. "You left out a lot," she accused.

McGonagall smiled wryly. "Indeed?"

"Yes! You hardly talked about Snape at all, and he was one of the most important people! And the Horcruxes… well, they were a bit… dumbed down, and you didn't mention about the cloak, or the wands, or anything."

Albus raised his eyebrows, admiring her bravery.

McGonagall steepled her fingers on the desk in front of her. "I think, if you consider it for a moment, Miss Weasley, you might understand why."

The two cousins looked at each other. "Dad did say…" Albus admitted slowly, "he did say he didn't want people knowing for sure about the Resurrection Stone. Because people would go looking for it and bringing back people and going mad all over the place. The other Hallows too, I expect."

"I guess you wouldn't want everyone knowing how to make a Horcrux," Rose said insightfully. "Or even knowing it was possible… in case it happened again."

"That is part of the reason," McGonagall agreed, nodding sagely. "The other part is that, as difficult it is to relay these events once a year, the complete story is too complex - and too personal for some - to be explained in full. If your father ever gets around to writing his autobiography, Mr Potter, you may be assured I will tell students to read that, instead. Until then, there are certain details that I feel I do not have the right to include in the curriculum. That goes for Professor Snape, as well."

"Oh." Rose seemed to accept this answer.

"I thought it would be Mr Potter with questions of this nature, but naturally I should have assumed that, as your mother's daughter, you would be the one to bring it up," McGonagall added apologetically. "You may go then, if there is nothing more."

Albus paused at the classroom door. "Er, Professor… perhaps you should have asked Scorpius Malfoy to stay back. You must have seen…"

"I noticed his discomfort, Mr Potter, but unfortunate as it may be I thought he might appreciate a night to calm down. You may tell him to come see me tomorrow, if he still has concerns."

"Discomfort," Albus muttered to Rose as they walked slowly down the corridor together. "Talk about your discomfort."

"It is a good story, though," she admitted. "I like the part where my parents fell in love, though. Shame she skipped that part."

Albus chuckled. "That's probably one of those things she thinks is too dangerous for the 'curriculum'."

~*A*~

Scorpius was not at Ravenclaw Tower. "Think he's all right?" Albus said, when Peter and Janey, the fifth year Ravenclaw prefects, reported not having seen him at all since the end of class.

"I'm sure he's fine," Rose said. "He just wants to be alone. I would want to be alone, if it was me."

Thinking he might have come back and then gone out again, like the first night back after summer, Albus went up to the dormitory. His school things were nowhere to be seen and his guitar was still there, which put paid to that theory.

Unbidden, uncomfortable memories of first year came back to haunt him. The first time they had really spoken was when the shy Malfoy boy had been bullied by people who thought he didn't deserve to be at Hogwarts. Then it had been older boys - the same age they were now, he belatedly realised. A suspicion grew in his mind then, nothing solid, but enough to know it probably wasn't a good idea for his friend to be wandering around alone, right now.

After a while of trying to think about anything else, he grabbed his cloak and went back to the Common Room. It was still freezing outside, but Scorp liked being outdoors, when he could, after spending the whole summer cooped up inside. He moved through the castle, past students coming to and fro from their last classes, or on their way to Quidditch practice, or an early dinner. The Entrance Hall was bustling, the door closed against the chilly March air. It took a huge tug to get it open enough even to let himself out, and he started to doubt that Scorpius could have managed it - even at fifteen he was still a bit scrawny, and the shortest of the Ravenclaw boys. But he must have, because there he was, sitting at the bottom of the stairs with his head on his arms. "Mate," Albus sighed with relief. "I was worried." He trudged down the stairs to where he was sitting, his bag still slung over his shoulder, a copy of The Hobbit poking out.

"Leave me alone," Scorpius muttered, in a warning tone that Albus hadn't heard before.

"It's freezing out here," Albus pointed out. "Come inside and have some dinner. Look, there's no sense in being miserable about it, people have known for years, and -" but he stopped, suddenly, because Scorpius had raised his head. His lip was bloody and there was a line of it down his pale chin. A bruise was coming up around his eye, dark and ominous looking. Albus stared. They couldn't have been separated for more than an hour or two. "What happened?" he asked darkly.

Scorpius shrugged.

"Who was it?"

Another shrug.

Albus was sure he already knew, however. "Bloody Gryffindors! Like they haven't sat in class with you for four and a half years!" He felt rage overcome him like a raging fever. These were not random Gryffindors who didn't know better, these were people they knew, that he talked to, even knew some of their families. "Like they don't know that we're friends, that you couldn't possibly be -"

"It was my fault," Scorpius said shortly, interrupting him and completely derailing his train of thought.

"What?"

"It was my fault. All right? Can we leave it alone now?"

"Absolutely bloody not. I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey."

"It's a split lip and a black eye, you arse. Leave it."

"But -" Albus paused for a moment, forcing his anger back in favour of sense, for what good it could possibly do. "Look… how was it your fault, then?"

Scorpius glared up at him, his grey eyes very dark and angry against the whiteness of his skin. "They wouldn't have done anything," he said, after he had established that Al wasn't backing down. "They were just staring… and whispering. So I told them they could take off, or have done with it if they thought I was going to murder them all in their sleep. One of them pulled their wand on me… I panicked."

"What did you do?" Albus asked, low.

"Disarmed him. I guess they thought I was going to attack them, and they rushed me. They got my wand off me, but one of them said, no hexes. I guess you could prove who did it if you had their wand."

"Yeah you could," Albus said darkly. It was all very well for Scorpius to claim provocation on his behalf, but if the perpetrators had had enough control to limit themselves to a beating, it seemed there was more premeditation in it than otherwise.

"Stacey called them off," Scorpius added, belatedly. "She looked ready to kill. I would have laughed, any other time."

Albus was not in the mood to laugh. "Is it just your face?"

"Couple of ribs, maybe." Scorpius shrugged again, and winced.

"Right, Hospital Wing. Or do you want everyone seeing the shiner you're going to have tomorrow morning? Or Rose fussing? She'll take you if I don't, you know she will."

This last seemed to get through to him, at least. "Fine," he muttered. "But…"

"We don't have to tell," Albus rolled his eyes. "I know what you're like. We went flying and you fell off, right? Madam Pomfrey doesn't ask too many questions."

"They still have my wand," Scorpius muttered.

"What?" They never gave it back?"

"No."

Albus resisted the urge to go into another rant about the so-called Gryffindor 'chivalry'. "I'll take care of it."

"But…"

"I won't tell! Don't be such a child."

He went quiet and sulky at that, and submitted to being led back into the castle.

After seeing his friend to the Hospital Wing, and after being assured firmly that he did not need a babysitter, Albus made off in the opposite direction. He knew the way to Gryffindor Tower, though he'd never been inside. "Password?" asked the woman in the painting, pompously. Albus ignored her and knocked.

"Is that necessary?" she asked haughtily, and vacated the portrait seconds before it opened. Albus didn't know the girl standing there, but she obviously recognised him, as her eyes widened.

"You're not a Gryffindor," she said, unnecessarily.

"I want to see my brother, please," he said, as politely as he could manage.

James came, after a few minutes of obvious confusion beyond the portrait hole. "Al!" he said, surprised, when the portrait finally opened again. "What are you doing here? You all right?"

"Fine," Albus said shortly. "We had that Recent History class today."

James grimaced. "Yeah, I know. Was it awful?"

"Yes, but that's beside the point. Some Gryffindors ganged up on Scorpius after and blacked his eye."

James stared. "Fifth years?"

"Yeah, obviously."

"Which ones?"

"No idea, he wouldn't say. Not Stacey, she helped him, but she would know who it was."

There was a pause while his brother took this in. He was being uncharacteristically serious about it, Albus thought, and was grateful. "What do you want me to do?" he said ominously.

"I don't want you to do anything," Al said firmly. "Not like that. They took Scorp's wand and he needs it back. And tell them from me that if they come after him again, I will tell Neville."

James rolled his eyes. "Owch."

"Neville likes him, and he's your Head of House," Albus pointed out. "Remember when Tony used to get into fights?" Professor Longbottom's reputation for non-favouritism towards members of his own house - even his own son - was somewhat legendary.

"Good point. All right then." James winked. "Sure you don't want me to take it a step further?"

Albus was about to say no, when he hesitated.

"Don't get in trouble," he said, instead, wondering if he would regret it later.

"Little brother, when have you ever known that to happen?" James said, with an injured, yet somehow mischievous expression.

Chapter Text

2023

~*-S-*~

Scorpius did not comment when three of the Gryffindor fifth years came to breakfast the next day with various magical abnormalities - one of them with chicken legs, which were undoubtedly hilarious - or when his wand was dropped onto his plate from above, and he turned to see James, Fred and Roxie walking back to the Gryffindor table. Albus cravenly chose not to meet his eyes, so he decided not to ask. In any case, the problem did not come up again for the rest of the year, and the oncoming onslaught of OWLs put paid to any ongoing protest he might have made under other circumstances.

It did make his next conversation with Stacey very awkward. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to him as they scribbled notes on The Hobbit - magical creatures from a Muggle perspective - over the scratching of quills, while Professor Clearwater marked papers at her desk.

"Forget it," he said, reddening.

"I didn't even get a chance to see if you were hurt…"

"M'fine, its taken care of." The nib of his quill snapped, and he cursed under his breath before rummaging around in his bag for another.

"I told Warren to apologise to you," she said after a brief silence.

Scorpius snorted. "Let me guess, he said no."

"I think he's a bit afraid of what might happen… after the chicken legs…"

"I didn't do that!" Scorpius protested, before he noticed she was giggling. "Very funny," he said, unable to help a small smile.

"Shh, please," called Professor Clearwater, and put an end to any more discussion on the subject.

But it was one thing to know your father had been a Death Eater at the age of sixteen. It was quite another to hear his crimes read out. To know that he had let an army of Death Eaters into Hogwarts. That he had helped one of the most evil wizards of all time come into power for a second time. He had always clung to the assumption - naive as perhaps it was - that his father had never actually killed anyone… but what he had done was in a way, worse. And his grandfather definitely had killed people, as Professor McGonagall had reminded him in front of forty of his classmates, while all the time carefully avoiding his eyes.

No wonder she hadn't wanted him at Hogwarts.

He turned down her belated offer of answering his 'concerns' as soon as Albus relayed it. What could she possibly say that would make things better? He started to dread the coming summer more than ever, knowing he would find it difficult to even look his father in the face. He wished more than ever that he could find his mother and stay with her, but despite having sent a dozen letters to the address Teddy had found, she still had not replied. Clearly she didn't want him around, even if his father would agree to such an arrangement. Which he most definitely would not.

He was so depressed that by the time the Careers Advice appointments rolled around, in the first week of the summer term, he had no energy to think up an alternative to the truth.

"I want to be a musician," he told Professor Flitwick flatly. The little wizard gave him an odd look, and a handful of pamphlets to look at. He should have known he wouldn't be taken seriously.

"He said I need more broad goals than Professional Quidditch," Albus sighed after his own appointment. "I think he's prejudiced against people who don't want to spend the rest of their lives with their heads in books."

"I thought he was quite supportive," Rose said. "He got very excited when I told him I wanted to be on the Wizengamot one day, and he suggested since I'm so good at Ancient Runes I should try curse breaking!"

"Point," Albus muttered.

After the mess that was the Recent History class, the last thing Scorpius wanted to do by the second of May was attend the memorial service, and remind everyone all over again.

The day had a new, more profound meaning to all the fifth years after the Recent History class, and he didn't dare complain, even to Rose or Albus, but he stuck to the back even more than ever while the procession wound through the grounds in the early morning drizzle. The rain couldn't put out the tiny candles held by the families of the dead, which were magically lit, and they shone through the sunrise as people put flowers and gifts on the great stone. He had every intention of slinking off to Ravenclaw tower and skipping breakfast altogether, but Rose called him back.

Teddy was waving, and standing with him was a thin, greying woman wearing a long black robe and cloak, her only touch of colour a little pink flower pinned to her breast.

Scorpius wanted more than anything to escape, but Teddy had, after all, done him a big favour over the summer. He trudged over, his boots sinking into the damp ground, while the Potters and Weasleys went into the castle with everyone else. "Scorpius," Teddy said, grinning. "This is my Gran, your Great Aunt Andromeda."

Scorpius' eyes widened. He should have expected it, he realised. Her hair had dark strands woven through the grey, but her face had the same narrow, pointed shape as his grandmother, the same sharpness that spoke of beauty from once upon a time. She was very regal-looking. He wondered if he should bow. "Nice to meet you," he said instead. It came out a bit flat, but she didn't seem to notice. She was staring at him almost as much as he was, bending over so that her eyes were on a level with his.

"She came just to meet you, didn't you Gran?" Teddy prompted.

"I find this day very difficult," Andromeda admitted, her eyes never leaving Scorpius' face. "I lost people very dear to me, and no amount of remembering will lessen their loss."

Scorpius nodded, not knowing what to say. With a sick feeling, he wondered just how Teddy's parents had died. Someone must have cast the killing blow. Could it have been his father? His grandfather? He tried desperately not to think it, in case she read the guilt in his face.

"You look very like your father," she said after a moment.

"I know," he sighed. "I'm trying not to, but he makes me cut my hair whenever I go home." His hair had by now escaped the dramatically short cut his father had insisted on the previous summer, but it was still not quite the way he liked it.

"I'm not surprised." She blinked, the endless stare finally over, and stood up straight. "Traditionally only the patriarch of a pureblood wizarding family wears his hair long."

"That's not why I do it," he said hurriedly, but she was smiling.

"Come in with us," Teddy said, patting him on the shoulder, and he found himself being led into the Great Hall after all. Space had been saved for them, and Scorpius realised with horror - too late - that they intended on making him sit with the Potters and the Weasleys.

It seemed liked the worst possible timing, though of course he couldn't imagine a good time for this meeting… but it was a miracle he had avoided it so far. Even so, he didn't feel ready in the slightest, especially with the Recent History class hanging over his head like a black cloud.

Teddy pulled out the end of a bench for his grandmother, and Rose and Albus, looking up with surprise, made room for Scorpius. "Have you all met my cousin?" Teddy said, deliberately cheerful.

"Hello Scorpius," said Albus' mum, smiling over at him from where she sat next to Lily. "It's been a while - how are you?"

"Fine thanks," he forced himself to say, coughing as all the moisture in his mouth abandoned him.

"This is Harry," Ginny continued, nodding towards the dark-haired man sitting beside her. His heart pounding, Scorpius met the man's eyes, bright green behind a pair of spectacles. His expression was unreadable, but he nodded and offered his hand. Scorpius took it, knowing his palm was sweating madly. "And this is Rose's mum and dad…"

Scorpius turned to face the other couple at the table, and realised immediately that Harry Potter should not have been his immediate concern. The redheaded man sitting beside Hugo was, while not actually frowning, giving him a look so poisonous that Scorpius felt his pounding heart drop into his stomach. It said: I do not want you here. I do not approve of your friendship with my daughter. You should not be sitting at this table, with my family. A couple of seats down, George Weasley was giving him a very similar look from when he was sitting with his wife and the twins.

"How nice to meet you at last," Rose's mum was saying, oblivious to this exchange. "Rose has told us so much about you."

Scorpius couldn't answer, he wanted to sink into the floor and never emerge. He could think of nothing to say even if his voice would work.

Then Rose's hand slid onto his lap under the table and caught his fingers in hers, giving them a squeeze. He looked at her helplessly. "You all right?" she asked. "You've gone pale."

Albus was instantly on the alert, to Scorpius' embarrassment. "Was it Warren again?" he asked, looking around. He had evidently been expecting something like that to happen today.

"No!" Scorpius hissed. "Shut up, I'm fine."

The adults exchanged confused glances, but luckily the breakfast began to arrive, a welcome distraction.

"How is your music going?" Ginny asked, conversationally as a large jug of pumpkin juice appeared on the table. "Hannah told me you performed at the Leaky Cauldron over Christmas, that must have been fun."

"I was scared shi - um, terrified," Scorpius replied hoarsely, grabbing a glass of pumpkin juice and downing it. He could at least speak now, if he ignored the death glare from Rose's father.

"She told me it was very good," Ginny assured him. "Good to know James' old guitar isn't going to waste - he only played it for about five minutes before giving up."

"What sort of music do you play?" Teddy asked, causing Scorpius to momentarily forget his terror in favour of embarrassment.

"Er… it's kind of all sorts… I just make it up as I go along."

"Don't listen to him," Rose said firmly, patting his hand and letting it go so that she could start her breakfast. He wished she hadn't - it had been like a temporary anchor in a storm. "He's good."

"Naturally," Great-Aunt Andromeda said, daintily cracking off the top of a hard-boiled egg. "His father was quite a fine soprano, as a boy."

"What?" Scorpius knew he was not the only one who had spoken - Ron Weasley was looking at Andromeda with disbelief - but he didn't care, he thought he must have misheard, or maybe his aunt was making a joke?

"Oh yes, he performed at several high society parties Narcissa was hosting. I was never invited to any of them, of course, but I heard he was very talented. Pity," she added, apparently unconscious of Scorpius' utter shock. "I suppose he gave it up once he started Hogwarts."

Scorpius realised his mouth was hanging open, and shut it hurriedly. "You are kidding me," he exclaimed.

"Gran never kids," Teddy shook his head.

"He could play the piano, too," Andromeda added, as if Scorpius' apoplexy was not already bad enough.

"My mind is officially blown," Scorpius said, burying his face in his hands. "Please, don't tell me anything else." There were chuckles from the assembled Potter-Weasley clan, and he thought even Ron Weasley was relaxing, somewhat, too intrigued by the story to be really angry anymore. When he looked back up at Great Aunt Andromeda, she winked at him.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Rose said, nudging him, after the visitors had all left and the students, it being Saturday, had dispersed to their Common Rooms, or, in the case of the upper years, the library.

"Mm hmm," Scorpius assented. It could have gone worse, he had to admit. The conversation after Andromeda's revelation had steered towards school, and Lily and Hugo had chatted happily about their new subjects, with only the occasional subtle question from Rose's mum about OWLS. Rose was surprisingly reluctant to talk about school to her parents, but Scorpius' confusion over this was not so much that it drowned out his discomfort completely. "Don't think your dad likes me much," he ventured. "Or your uncle George."

"Don't be silly. They'll come round to you."

Scorpius was switched on enough to note that this was not strictly a denial, but the old Librarian came round to shush them and there was no opportunity to carry the point. He would just have to avoid both Weasley men in future, if that was at all possible.

~*-S-*~

They spent a lot of time in the library in the intervening weeks until the exams, to the point where there was very little time to do anything else. Albus and Rose still had Quidditch, of course, beating the Hufflepuff team for the fifth year in a row only to be beaten by Slytherin for the cup. The only upside to this, in Albus' opinion, was that at least Gryffindor had also lost.

"If you can't win, shouldn't you at least shout for your brother's team?" Scorpius asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Hell no, this way he doesn't get to lord it over me all summer. And he'll spend the whole time plotting with Fred on how to get Slytherin back instead of coming up with new and inventive ways to ruin my holiday."

Scorpius tried not to think about his own holidays, which were as good as ruined already. He concentrated on OWLs, determined not to give his father any more reasons to be angry. By the time the actual exams came around, he was pretty confident on passing everything except Herbology and Divination.

They rolled into the Great Hall the morning of the first exam feeling like a bunch of first years all over again. They could see Lizzie and Belinda comforting one of the other Hufflepuff girls, who in other circumstances might have been diagnosed with seasickness.

"Look, look," Rose hissed, as a group of people came into the hall. They saw the examiners every year, of course, but this year they actually paid attention as they sat at the extended staff table and chatted good naturally with the other teachers. Scorpius spotted old Professor Sprout (retired), who had substituted for Professor Longbottom when Alice was born, smiling and hugging Professor Flitwick, who was almost lost in her ample bosom.

Rose was still staring at the examiners minutes later, and Scorpius had to poke her and push her plate towards her. "Dunno why you're nervous," he told her. "You're good at exams."

She did not answer, but the look she gave him was worthy of her father, so he didn't say anything else.

Somehow he got through the Charms theory exam. It felt so weird to be sitting in the Entrance Hall at his own individual table, all his year mates around him, the scratching of pens very loud in the otherwise silent room. He wrote as though on automatic, and afterwards could barely remember any of the questions.

The practical that afternoon, however, was easier than he had expected, at least at first. He had no problems with any of the spells he had to demonstrate. He did a cheering charm - on a portrait - levitation, unlocked a chest, and several more. And then, unexpectedly, the examiner asked him to perform a charm of his own choice. He blinked, considering. He should probably do something impressive, but he couldn't think of anything. He was totally blanking! He looked around desperately at the other people being examined. One of them was drawing a picture in the air with their wand.

Well he knew how to do that, but he couldn't draw to save his life… and then suddenly it struck him what he should do. He raised his wand and launched into one of the music charms from the book Albus had given him for Christmas. It was one of the simplest in terms of execution, but one of the hardest to do. There was no incantation, you just had to focus your mind in the right way, imagining the music the way you wanted it to sound. The book recommended starting with one instrument and working your way up - Scorpius could do a small band by now. He played the first minute of an instrumental version of Bohemian Rhapsody, and stopped to find all the examiners - and the other students - staring at him.

"Very, ah… very good," said the examiner, and made a note on a piece of paper. Scorpius left the exam room not actually knowing if he had done well, or not.

The rest of the exams seemed to go past in a blur, except for Muggle Studies which he actually enjoyed. He made a mental note to thank Stacey again for the shared books arrangement - without it, he wouldn't have been able to write nearly seventeen inches about Tolkien. The practical involved making toast and a cup of tea without magic. His toaster smoked a little half way through, but the examiner assured him this nearly always happened due to the amount of magic in the air.

One day I will own a toaster, he thought to himself absurdly as he left the Great Hall. And a kettle. And a computer. Just bloody watch me. He laughed to himself at the madness of this statement, but at least, if it ever did happen, he would be prepared.

He had the day off at the end of the exam period, since he didn't do Care of Magical Creatures. He enjoyed the peace of the dormitory to play his guitar until everyone came back, some nursing bloody fingers. "Well," Albus said with a sigh. "That's over. Farewell, childhood. Hello, post-OWL-hood."

"I can't wait to go home," Rose said, curling up on an armchair with Midnight. "I want to go to sleep in my own bed and not wake up for a week."

"You can't," Albus reminded her. "Italy, remember?"

"What?" Scorpius had been half dozing. Albus looked at him guiltily.

"We're going to Italy. Mine and Rose's family. Er… all summer."

"All summer?"

"There's about a week at the end where we'll come back and do our shopping and things," Rose said. "I thought we told you."

"No," Scorpius said dully. He didn't have any right to be offended at this, he knew. He couldn't expect them to put their lives on hold just because he was going to be spending the holiday cooped up in the creepy townhouse with a man who thought he was something quite different to who he was.

But this was not to be. The day before they were due to catch the train to King's Cross, Scorpius got a letter.

Son,

I have business I must attend to over the next few months. The townhouse will be empty and as such there is little point in you returning home for the summer holiday. You will be staying with your Grandparents until September. My mother will pick you up from the station.

Your Father.

"At least you'll still be in England?" Albus said, in an attempt at comfort. "That's better, right?"

"Are you kidding, it's ten times worse," Scorpius said angrily, crumpling the letter into a ball and hurling it into the fire. "A whole summer in that horrible house all covered in dust sheets with a woman who barely knows I exist and a man who doesn't even know he exists half the time. Bloody effing brilliant."

"I wish you could come with us," Rose said, quietly.

"Well I can't," he snapped. "My lot won't let me and your lot wouldn't have me."

She looked genuinely hurt by this, but it wasn't his fault if she was offended by the truth. "What do you mean, my parents would -"

"Oh come on, Rose, your Dad thinks I'm the scum of the earth, just like half the people in this school!"

"You don't even know him!" Her eyes, while angry, were wide and shining.

"Don't bother," Albus told her darkly. "He's in a mood."

Scorpius glared at him. "Doesn't matter anyway, does it? Enjoy your holiday. You can try writing, unless you want your owls getting tainted with Dark Magic."

"Leave it," he heard Albus saying behind him as he stormed up the stairs. "He'll be sorry tomorrow."

He barely slept that night, tossing and turning as his traitorous brain dug up every memory of his grandparents and paraded them in front of his closed eyelids. He hadn't seen them since starting Hogwarts, but he had been to Malfoy Manor as a little boy, when money became desperate and there were no other options. He remembered a huge, dark, empty house, where his grandparents occupied only a few rooms. His grandmother, a skeletal woman with absurdly long white-blonde hair, had forced him onto her lap and stroked his hair with inch-long fingernails, scraping over his scalp and muttering nonsense to him, like he was a baby. After that he stayed out of her way, especially when she started calling him 'Draco', it was just creepy. As for his grandfather…

Even his father was afraid of Lucius. That was why they stayed away from the manor as much as possible. At first the old man had seemed harmless - he leaned on a cane and didn't even seem to notice Scorpius was there. He stayed mostly to his study, even slept there, though it was just as empty as all the other rooms, all the Malfoys' possessions having been repossessed years ago to pay of debts and fines and probably bail for all three of them, Scorpius added to himself. They had all gone to prison for a while, he knew, but his father never spoke about it and Scorpius had no way of knowing if it affected him. On the other hand, his grandfather, already teetering on the edge of sanity after a long spell in Azkaban and years of terror under the Dark Lord, the return to prison had snapped something in him.

~*-S-*~

Scorpius woke, suddenly, to shouting and banging. He crept out of bed - hardly more than a cot, hastily cleaned of dust with magic and still smelling of mothballs - and tip-toed along the hall towards the noise. It was coming from the study. "Bastard!" someone was yelling. "Useless - pathetic - your fault! Our lives - ruined!" Scorpius felt a shiver of fear go through him, but still something drew him on. The door to his grandfather's study was ajar, and he peeked around it.

His father was on the ground, his arms sprawled over the filthy carpet. Standing over him, no longer looking frail and harmless but tall and terrifying, his grandfather, with his silver-tipped cane brandished in a white-knuckled hand.

Scorpius gasped, and the man looked up at him, meeting Scorpius' wide-eyed gaze. His eyes were mad, totally mad, red and blazing. He changed his grip on the cane, turning it in his hand as though he was going to throw it - Scorpius knew he should move, or run, but his feet seemed frozen to the floor - and then with a noise that shook the very floorboards, Lucius was blasted back across the room, falling backwards onto the desk, gasping and wheezing. Scorpius' father got to his feet, brandishing his wand with fury in his face and a trickle of dark blood down his brow. "Papa?" Scorpius whispered in terror.

The man spared him only a glance. "Back to bed, Scorpius," he said firmly.

~*S*~

He woke again, this time in the fifth-year boys' dormitory, and cursed to himself. He hadn't had that dream in years, though he had woken terrified and unable to breathe, several times for months after it had happened. He was sweating, and he threw his duvet off, covering his face with his hands against the moonlight coming through a gap in the curtains. How could his father send him there? His grandfather was insane enough to be committed to St. Mungo's, and his grandmother could barely look after herself, let alone a teenage boy.

Eventually, when sleep failed to happen, he crawled out of bed, grabbed a book off the bedside table and went down to the Common Room to read until people started waking up, most dressed in Muggle clothes, chatting excitedly about the train ride home.

~*-S-*~

"Sorry," he mumbled to Rose, later. "Shouldn't have taken it out on you."

She smiled sadly and threw her arms around his neck. "I'll miss you," she said quietly. "I do hope you don't have too horrible a time."

He did not answer, as he held out no such hope whatsoever, but he made a weak attempt at a smile.

"Write to us when you get your OWLS, yeah?" Albus said as they got on the train.

"If I can," he replied. He wasn't sure if his grandparents even had an owl.

It was the shortest train journey ever. He couldn't even concentrate on the game of Exploding Snap that started at Lily's insistence, resulting in his losing spectacularly when the whole pile went up in his face, nearly singing his eyebrows. He ran a hand through his hair, finally long enough, wondering if his grandmother would make him cut it. He thought wistfully of his guitar, shut up in the dormitory, his iPod, stuffed into Albus' bag for safekeeping, and the Muggle books he half owned that Stacey was taking home with her. He thought he had the right to sulk. No one else had to hide who they were from their own family. No one else had to pretend to be something they were not.

He was still brooding over this when they rolled into King's Cross, and people started pulling their trunks out of the overhead compartments. He absent-mindedly helped Albus get Lily's trunk, which was right up the back, then his own, and then he had to get off the train and pretend that he hadn't spent the last several hours playing cards with the offspring of his father's worst enemies. He couldn't even bring himself to properly say goodbye, but nodded at them and hurried off into the crowd without a word.

Narcissa was waiting for him by the Floo point. Her face fell when she saw him, and she reached out a bony, long-nailed hand to brush her fingers against his face, without even saying anything. He did his best not to recoil, but kept a firm grip on his trunk and followed her to the Floo, where she called out 'Malfoy Manor' in a reedy voice and beckoned him to follow her.

The only upside to the coming summer, he decided as he took a deep, calming breath and stepped into the fire, was that it would be his last one while underage. He would be seventeen next March, and not obligated to go wheresoever his father decided to send him. Next year, things would be different.

Chapter Text

2023

~*-R-*~

Rose Weasley turned sixteen in Italy that year. She spent her days walking around Muggle Rome with her mother, who had never been but had done a lot of reading in preparation, and Wizarding Venice, well-connected as they were by a series of Floo points set up specifically for tourism - a concept quite alien to the wizarding population of Britain except for special occasions like the Quidditch World Cup. It was a bit chaotic - the two families made up nine people, after all, and there was the problem of disguising Albus' dad sufficiently to avoid being mobbed in the street. There were still a couple of incidents despite all the precautions they could legally take.

"Wishing you brought the cloak, now?" she heard her father saying to Harry after one such incident where they had been held up for half an hour on the way to dinner. "We could always Disillusion you, I suppose."

"I'm not going invisible to go to a meal with my own family," her uncle replied hotly.

"We could apply for some Polyjuice," Ron suggested, grinning. "I think Dean knows a guy at il Ministero."

"Remember when it was still legal to cook it up in a school bathroom? Good times."

"Yeah, we ruined it for everyone, breaking into high-security Ministry buildings like wanton criminals. Shame."

Her father and uncle were also not always with them. They assured everyone that they were not working, they were after all on holiday, but the Italian Ministry were also having problems with the Shadow. It seemed that he had feelers everywhere in Europe, and might even be branching out to other parts of the world. It made him incredibly hard to track down, as her father was wont to complain in private.

"The stuff's getting worse," she heard him tell her mother. "It started off your generic Dark objects, ancient curses, that sort of thing, but there's so much of it that it has to be coming from somewhere. There aren't that many old dark objects just lying around, unless they've got a secret mine of them."

"You mean they might be making them?" Hermione sounded disgusted by the suggestion. "Do we know if they're real? If it's so widespread…"

"Oh, it's real, what we've got of it, anyway," Ron said darkly. "Some of the things blew up Harry's Sneakoscope. It's only a matter of time before people start dying. Probably they already have, we just don't know it yet."

Rose was left with a paranoid feeling that lasted a few days, wary of everything she touched. Lily insisted that she was going to help catch the Shadow when she left Hogwarts and became an Auror, but Rose hoped that he would be caught long before that.

Apart from that, though, it was a very good holiday, and Rose felt they deserved it after the stress of OWLs, the results of which she awaited anxiously while trying to feign indifference. "Are you sure they'll get here, Mum?" she asked after a few weeks of nail-biting in private. "Maybe the owls won't be able to find us."

"Hogwarts owls can find people anywhere, dear," Hermione assured her. "If one could find me in Bulgaria and your father in Egypt, it'll get here."

"Maybe we should borrow one," Albus muttered. "That's the third time Emmett's come back, useless bird."

Rose thought privately that his owl's inability to deliver his letter to Scorpius had less to do with Emmett's abilities than it did his grandparents' ability to receive them. The lack of correspondence was, while not unexpected, still worrying. But as her mother pointed out, there was little she could do about it.

The OWL letters did arrive, a few days later while they were all sitting around the breakfast table in their shared villa. The adults cheered as they landed on the windowsill, but Rose was suddenly a bundle of nerves and could do nothing but take her letter silently from her mother's hand. She shared a look with Albus, who rolled his eyes and ripped his open with a 'how-bad-could-it-be' attitude. Rose swallowed and followed suit.

OWL Results

Examinations Completed in May of 2022

Rose Weasley has achieved the following:

Arithmancy - O

Astronomy - O

Care of Magical Creatures - O

Charms - O

Defence Against the Dark Arts - O

Herbology - O

History of Magic - E

Study of Ancient Runes - O

Potions - O

Transfiguration - O

Students should indicate which NEWTs they intend on completing. Please fill in the attached form and return to Hogwarts by owl by July 14th. Timetables will be finalised on the first day of term.

Rose looked up, and realised everyone was staring at her. "Well?" her mother prompted.

"Er… not too bad," she said, weakly.

"Passed everything," Albus said triumphantly. "Just an A in Astronomy, but who cares, I was half asleep that night."

"Ten OWLs!" Ginny exclaimed. "Rose? How about you?"

"Yeah." Rose stared at the paper again. She had spent the weeks since the exams trying not to get her hopes up, and it felt very odd now that she didn't have to hold it back anymore.

"Oh well done, darling!" her mother had come round to hug her warmly, before peeking nosily at her letter. "Rosie! Nine O's! I'm so proud of you."

"Which one did you miss?" Albus asked, incredulously.

"Al!" Ginny said warningly.

Rose grinned and swapped papers with her cousin. He had got seven O's, as well as the aforementioned A in Astronomy and E's in Ancient Runes and History of Magic.

"This calls for a celebration," Harry said, in his quietly approving way. James, Fred and Roxie were pulling faces. Rose remembered with amusement that James had only got seven OWLS, and the twins had scraped six each, their only O's in Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. "Here's to the Ravenclaws." They clinked classes, and Rose saw Albus flushing slightly.

"Oh hell," he said later, after they'd spent half an hour deciding where they'd gone wrong in History of Magic - probably by interchanging some Goblin's names, they were all so similar - "you realise what this means? We're NEWT students now."

"What subjects are you doing?" she asked him cruelly.

"We are on holiday," he reminded her. "I'm not filling that form out till the last minute."

"Those classes have limited places, remember? Do you want to miss out on Charms or Transfiguration because you didn't get it in on time? You need those to get nearly any Ministry job."

"Quidditch, Rosie, Quidditch," he said firmly.

"You can play Quidditch and be good at academics," she told him. "You've managed it so far, right? Anyway what happens when you fall off your broom and get a season-ending injury?"

He had no answer to this, but he did do his form the same time she did, and sent them both with Emmett the next evening. "At least he knows how to find Hogwarts," he muttered.

"You do suppose Scorp's okay, don't you?" she sighed as they watched the owl soar off into the night.

"He's been okay every other summer." He sounded surer than he looked. "I'm sure he's fine."

~*-R-*~

Two months went by very fast, although with the help of Hermione's vigorous scheduling skills, they had seen nearly everything there was to see by the time they had to go home. The train would be leaving King's Cross in a week and a half, and they still had to go to London and do their school shopping. Fred, Roxanne, Louis and Lucy, who was starting Hogwarts that year, had already done their Diagon Alley trip. The list of books on the NEWT list was daunting.

"Hannah's asked us to have dinner at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow," Hermione said, reading the letter over breakfast. "She says she's got a surprise for us."

"Another baby?" Rose's father suggested.

"Ron!"

Hugo snickered, and Rose heard her father high five him under the table. Boys, she thought, rolling her eyes.

"We may as well do our shopping on the same day then," Hermione continued, choosing to ignore them. "And have dinner afterwards. I hope it's not too busy," she added.

"Nothing like the last minute school rush," Ron said cheerfully. "Anyone need new robes, or is it just books this time?"

"Hugo needs new robes," Hermione said, before either of them could answer. "He's starting to grow like a weed."

"Mu-um."

"Rosie? Do you need robes? You haven't grown much since last year, have you?"

"No," Rosie said. At least not in height, she added to herself. She would be filling out her old robes a little more in the front, perhaps, but she was hardly going to say so in front of her dad and brother.

They left for Diagon Alley by Floo after lunch the next day, later than they would have usually started, the adults normally preferring to get in and out before the real crowds. Rose wore Muggle clothes, as usual, but dressed up a bit since they were going out to dinner, picking a knee-length skirt over her usual jeans, and a cream-coloured lacy singlet she had bought in Italy. She left her hair out - there was very little to be done with it, anyway.

"Guess what?" Albus said when they met the Potters at the Leaky Cauldron, and flashed her a badge on his jumper.

She grinned. "Quidditch captain?"

He looked a bit put out that she wasn't more surprised. "Well, yeah."

"Good for you."

He flushed. "I thought it would have been Reina or Benjy," he said, naming the two seventh years on the team. "They're older."

"So? You're better than them. You're a good Seeker, but you know more about the whole game, too - you'll be a great captain."

"Thanks, but - watch it!"

They were being shoved almost back into the fireplaces by the sudden rush of people coming through the pub.

"Oh, I'm so glad we don't have to do this again after Hugo leaves school," Hermione sighed, pulling Hugo towards her and holding onto his shirt despite his protests.

"Keep your head down, Dad," Albus muttered. "Wouldn't want you getting mobbed."

"Very funny," Harry said. "Come on, let's get out of here, we'll come back later."

As they walked through the pub, elbowing their way through the mass of people making their way to and from Diagon Alley as well as the many patrons at the tables and servers rushing to and from the kitchen, Rose thought she thought someone call her name. She looked over her shoulder, but there were too many people, even if she hadn't just imagined it.

They decided to do the bookshop last, as those were the heaviest things to carry. Ginny took Hugo and Lily to get fitted for new school robes, and Harry went to the bank. James split off to go to Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes, since he had all his NEWT things already. The rest of them went to the Apothocary to get Potions ingredients, and then the petshop for a year's supply of owl and cat treats.

As they walked back towards the bookshop, Rose heard her name again. "What is that?" she muttered, looking around.

"What?" said Al, confused.

"Over here!"

Someone was coming towards them from the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. He came up to them, grinning widely. "Hello," he said, cheerfully.

Rose stared. For a moment - a long moment - she didn't recognise him. He was tall, much taller, at least half a head taller than she was. Where she was used to seeing wizard's robes, he was wearing dark jeans and a black t-shirt bearing the slogan "I listen to bands that don't even exist yet". His usually pale hair gleamed golden in the sunlight, and it was slightly curly, and his skin, usually almost marble white after spending months indoors at the end of summer, flushed with a healthy colour.

Oddly enough it was the guitar case she recognised, battered as ever and slung across his back with a strap much newer than the rest of the ensemble; it had an Eagle on it in some kind of native-American motif, in Ravenclaw colours. She blinked, and realised she had forgotten to breathe.

"Scorp?" she gasped.

He grinned, and she felt her heart do a funny sort of hop-skip in her chest. "It is you!" She ran towards him and he caught her up, lifting her slightly off the ground as her momentum nearly knocked him over, but he was laughing. "What happened?" she exclaimed. "You got so tall!"

"I know right, finally!" he said, putting her down. He didn't seem to notice - or perhaps he didn't care - that her parents were there, watching. "I always refused to accept I was going to be short forever."

"Mate," Al was staring at Scorpius with a similar expression to what Rose herself must be wearing. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I live here," he replied, innocently.

Rose punched him, hard in the arm. "We've been worried about you, you ass!"

"Ow! Look, I'm in a rush, I can't really talk - but you're coming to the Leaky for dinner, right?"

"Yes, but -"

"I'll see you then. I've got a surprise for you."

"Other than that you're here and not murdered and buried in a shallow grave?" Al asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, other than that - I have to go, I need new strings - bye! Nice to see you again, Mr & Mrs Weasley." He waved to Rose's parents and hurried off, to the end of the street where it junctioned into Knockturn Alley.

"What the hell?" Albus said, with feeling. "No wonder Emmett couldn't deliver the letters, if he's been here the whole time - where is he staying?"

"The Leaky Cauldron, I suppose," Hermione said, looking thoughtful. "That must have been what Hannah meant by having a surprise for us."

Ron snorted, as if to say he could imagine better surprises.

Rose wanted to go after Scorpius and drown him in questions, and Albus was not far behind her, but her parents dragged them back. "We still have to get your books before dinner," Hermione pointed out.

"Do you think he ran away?" Rose whispered to Albus anxiously.

Albus thought about it for a moment as they went into the bookshop. "You'd think so, but Neville's a teacher, right? He can't just harbour a runaway, he'd lose his job, and probably get in trouble with the Ministry. Hannah, too. Scorp wouldn't do that to them."

"But his grandparents can't have just let him stay here." She ran her fingers along the bookshelf dedicated to Transfiguration, looking for the NEWT textbook. "He'd never be allowed."

"Well it has to be one or the other, doesn't it," Albus said grimly.

"At least he seems… happy," Rose admitted. "He always comes back after summer looking so pale and miserable. And he's done something with his hair… I hardly recognised him."

"Just what he always wanted," Albus said, frowning.

Rose shot him a look. "You're just jealous because he's taller than you, now."

"I am not. I'm just thinking… what if he's done something really dumb?"

"Well I'm sure he'll explain it all later." She felt much calmer now that she had thought about it a bit. If there were any danger, surely Scorpius wouldn't have been so cheerful. "Aha, NEWT Transfiguration." She tossed him a copy. "Now Ancient Runes."

It seemed to take ages to find all their books, pay for them, and round up everyone else. She could hear her father muttering to uncle Harry, and she thought she could guess what the conversation was about, but she didn't care. "Let's go," she prompted, tugging at her mother's sleeve impatiently like a child. She was starting to think she might have imagined the whole thing, it had been so quick. She needed to see him again to prove it had really happened, that she hadn't just made it up out of hope that he was happy and well.

Since it was so late, the Leaky Cauldron had calmed down somewhat, but there were still plenty of people sitting and eating. The smell of good food wafted up from the tables, making her tummy rumble, but she was too busy looking around to notice. She scanned the faces of all the guests, but couldn't place them. For a moment she thought he wasn't there, but then she saw a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye, and turned to look. He was coming out of the kitchen door, backwards, wearing an apron over his t-shirt and carrying a large tray with plates and drinks. As she watched he made his way over to a group of young people, some of whom she recognised as former Hogwarts students, who cheered his arrival as he lowered the tray onto the table.

"There you are!" Hannah had appeared from behind the bar, wearing a bright yellow apron. Her hair was tied in a single plait down her back, and she was beaming. "Hello all of you - how was Italy? Lizzie's so looking forward to seeing you, come in, come in." She led them to a large table, thrown together out of several smaller tables, in the middle of the room. Usually when they visited, they went upstairs to eat in the apartment where Neville and Hannah lived, but Rose realised that there wouldn't be enough room, for three whole families. "Sit down, go on, put your bags under, I'll just go get everyone." She bustled off as quickly as she had come. Rose craned her neck to see over her shoulder as Scorpius picked up his empty tray and hurried off in another direction. He works here, she realised belatedly, feeling stupid. When he had said he lived here, she had imagined him crashing at the Leaky Cauldron the way she herself had done a few times when she was younger - though probably they wouldn't let him bunk in Lizzie's room, she added to herself. Again she wondered how he had managed it. Surely his father would never have allowed him to sink to what in his opinion must be a level of indignity far below those of the ancient house of Malfoy.

Everyone was sitting down and chatting, Hugo, the family's future naturalist, rattling off the creatures he wanted to study with Hagrid after peeking through his new Care of Magical Creatures book, James clearly just wishing he wasn't the only one his own age at the table, Lily re-tying her hair and complaining that it never stayed up - only Albus seemed to share her curiosity, and even he didn't seem surprised to see his friend in an apron. Rose supposed that she should have expected it too, after all he had already served at the pub for an afternoon, last Christmas. But this was different, from the look of him he'd been here for weeks if not almost the entire summer...

The Longbottom family arrived in a flurry of noise and excitement. Neville, holding Alice by the hand, happily shook hands with the men and kissed cheeks with the women while Hannah fussed over how tall Lily was getting and how much she looked just like her mum, and everyone wanted to cuddle Alice. "Rose, Albus!" Lizzie exclaimed, coming over to hug them both. "How was Italy?"

"Great," Albus told her. "How was your summer?"

"Oh you know, just normal," she said, smiling innocently, pulling out the chair next to them.

"Why didn't you tell us he was here?" Rose asked immediately.

Lizzie looked surprised. "I thought he must have. Anyway you know our owl's getting old, no way she could go all the way to Venice and back."

"When did he -" Rose began, but Neville was already waving everyone back to the table. He lifted Alice up and plonked her into a seat.

"Quietening down, finally," he observed. "I think we should close early tonight, dear."

"Who runs this pub, me or you?" Hannah said sternly, but she leaned over and kissed his cheek in recompense. "Where's Scorpius?"

Rose saw her father's head go up. The other adults, she noticed, did not look uninterested.

"Over there, Mum." Lizzie pointed to where Scorpius was now removing plates from an abandoned table.

"Oh for goodness -" Hannah shook her head. "He should have stopped an hour ago." She hurried over to him, and Rose saw her waving down another server to take over.

"We've been short-handed today," Neville offered by way of explanation. "I'd help, but I'm no hand with trays, and plates, half the time they end up on the floor. I'd levitate them if it wasn't against Hannah's strict food handling rules."

"Sorry, sorry," Scorpius was saying, pulling his apron off over his head as Hannah dragged him over, practically by the ear. "Felicity went home early, cos her grandfather's ill, and it all went pear-shaped for a while…"

"Well it's under control now, so sit down," Hannah said firmly, leading him to the empty chair at the end next to Alice. "Before you fall down."

"Yes marm," he said meekly, tickling Alice's tummy as he sat down so that she giggled and slapped at his hand with her small pudgy one.

"Scorpius, you're looking very well," Ginny said politely.

"Thanks," the boy grinned. Rose was struck yet again by how he didn't seem to mind all the adults staring at him. At the memorial breakfast last year, his first time meeting most of them, he'd been almost catatonic with shyness. "How was Italy?"

"Oh, it was beautiful. We so rarely have the opportunity to travel as a family, Harry and Ron are so busy..."

"I'll see about the food," Hannah said, bustling off.

"I'd offer to help, but she'd hex me to the chair," Scorpius sighed.

"Hex me, hex me!" Alice demanded, drumming her fists on the arms of the chair.

"I'll hex you silly in a minute, you menace," Scorpius told her, tickling the back of her neck and making her laugh even more.

"He's totally brainwashed her," Lily said, sticking her tongue out at Scorpius, who shrugged.

"We can't help it if we're best friends, right Ally-pally?" The child's answer was to stick her own tongue out at her sister in turn.

"Manners, girls," Neville said sternly, though Rose thought she saw a hint of an amused smile on his face.

"All right," Albus said, cutting through Alice's giggles to ask Scorpius directly. "Spill. How did you get here. And when? And why didn't you say anything?"

"You didn't run away, did you?" Rose asked quietly, feeling guilty for asking, especially in front of everyone.

"No, I didn't run away," Scorpius sighed. "Not that they would have noticed if I had," he added in a low murmur. "I put up with them ignoring me for a week, then I asked grandmother if I could visit friends."

"And they let you?" Rose asked incredulously.

"Well I didn't say which friends. She didn't even ask. Honestly I expected her to say no, but I wasn't going to stick around to see if it was a test. I was starting to get asthma from the dust. I hadn't even really thought about where I was going to go… this was the first place I thought of."

"We're glad to have you," Neville said, nodding encouragingly. "We'd have had him for nothing," he explained, "but he insists on earning his room and board."

"Well it's not like I've much else to do," Scorpius shrugged. "And I like it. And I've made extra, for clothes and stuff." He plucked at his 'bands' T-shirt. "Lizzie took me shopping in Muggle London!"

"We only got as far as Westfield, I thought his head was going to explode," Lizzie said.

"Oh lor', you didn't take him to an Apple store, did you?" Albus winced.

Scorpius laughed. "It was brilliant!"

"We were in there for hours," Lizzie groaned. "You can take him next time."

"No fear!"

"But, surely your grandparents didn't expect your visit to last all summer?" Hermione broke in. "Won't they be worried about you?"

Scorpius shrugged. For a second, Rose thought she saw something of the old Scorpius, the miserable cloud that had hung over him at the end of fifth year, flicker across his face. "I wrote to them after a week and told them I was staying. No answer, so I guess they're okay with it."

"What if -" Rose didn't want to press the issue, but there seemed to be so many holes in this plan. "What if they write to your father?"

Scorpius shot her a hard look, and there were a few seconds of heated silence. She half expected him to yell at her. "They won't," he said eventually, relaxing slowly as though he was willing it on himself. "Trust me."

"So Rose, Albus, how were your OWLs?" Neville asked, neatly changing the subject as Hannah came back leading three other servers with trays of food that were put down on the table for sharing.

"They both did very well," Hermione said proudly - and loudly - before either of them could reply. "Ten each! Rose got nine Os, though of course I wouldn't have expected any less."

"Mu-um," Rose protested automatically.

"Lizzie got seven," Hannah said proudly.

"Mum!" Lizzie exclaimed.

"Sweetheart, I'm just so proud of you!"

"Just so everyone knows, I was only taking nine to start with," Lizzie put in quickly. "I just failed Astronomy and History of Magic because I could barely think straight. And I don't need either of them so I'm not disappointed at all."

"Darling, you got three Os, you should be very proud, don't focus on what you failed."

"I keep telling her I only got one O," Neville said. "Kids these days expect too much of themselves, if you ask me."

"No one was, Dad," Lizzie muttered.

"Scorp?" Rose asked, speaking gently just in case. "Did you pass Herbology?"

"Hey!" Scorpius looked offended. "Did you expect me not to?"

"Of course not, I just know you were worried about it…"

"He passed," Neville interrupted. "And never has the term 'Exceeds Expectations' been more accurate, if you don't mind me saying, Scorpius."

Scorpius sighed, giving up. "No, that's fair. I failed Divination, though."

"What!"

Rose turned with surprise to hear her father's voice. She would have thought he would be the last person to add his two Knuts to a discussion on Scorpius' OWLs. "How does anyone fail Divination? It's telling the future, just make something up, no one can prove you wrong!"

Scorpius frowned. "But… isn't that cheating?"

"Yes it is - don't listen to him, Scorpius," Hermione said firmly. Ron glowered.

"But you passed everything else?" Rose prompted.

He grinned. "Yup. NEWTs in Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies. But if my father asks," he added. "I'm doing Potions instead."

"I didn't hear that," Neville muttered. Rose thought her mother, uncle and aunt also looked less than sanguine at this announcement, but the conversation veered off in another direction, from OWLs back to Italy, and everyone started tucking into their dinner, enjoying the classic Leaky fare which had really become something to desire since Hannah had taken over the pub. Rose was only half listening to the conversation, eating without really noticing what she was doing. It didn't make sense to her how Scorpius could suddenly be so flippant about lying to his father for two years about his subjects. She remembered how he had agonised about the decision to even take Muggle Studies in the first place, and an extra subject was much easier to hide than a completely alternative one. Not to mention where he had spent the entire summer, when there was so much risk that it could fall apart at any second. There had been something in his face when he spoke about his grandparents that told her there was something he wasn't saying.

She didn't realise she was staring at him along the table, until he looked up and met her eye. She looked away, quickly, feeling her cheeks flush.

"Right," Neville said when the dinner was mostly cleared away, although Alice had managed to get some of it on the floor. "It's about time for your set, isn't it Scorp?"

Scorpius looked up and grinned. "Be right back!"

"Set?" Rose mouthed at Albus, who shrugged in confusion as their friend left the table for the stairs. The question was more or less answered, however, when he came back down in possession of his guitar, the Ravenclaw eagle strangely luminescent in the lamp light.

"This is your surprise," he explained as he came by the table. "I wrote you a song."

Rose felt her heart do that weird hop-skip thing it had done when she first saw him. "For me?" she said, breathlessly.

"Well, for both of you," Scorpius corrected, nodding at Albus. "Hope you like it - scuse me."

There were people clapping already, Rose realised, cheering him onto the stage. "He's played nearly every night for the last month," Hannah explained, leaning over the table to speak over the applause. "People are starting to come just to hear him, it's really good for business… not that I'd make him do it if he didn't want to, of course…"

Scorpius was settling himself, perching on the edge of a stool that had been set up on a small stage Rose hadn't even noticed until now, positioning the guitar and playing a few experimental notes. Then, inexplicably, he drew his wand and fastened it to the neck of the instrument - there was a clip that seemed to have been added just for that purpose. When he strummed the guitar again, the sound that came out was unlike any she had ever heard any guitar make.

"Evening everyone," Scorpius said, calming the cheering crowd with ease, and somehow his voice travelled clearly across the crowded room. "I'm going to play something new for you tonight…" another cheer. "It's a song I wrote for my two best friends. I wouldn't even be here without them, so… this is thank you." He saluted in Rose and Albus' direction, and Rose felt her cheeks flush even redder.

He started playing, and Rose gasped - the sound of it! There could have been ten instruments on that stage, not just one, but he seemed to be controlling all of them with his fingers. As she looked closer, the movements of his hands were slightly different than she was used to, and, yes, the strings were multicoloured. It hadn't been noticeable before, but as he played, they glowed slightly, illuminating his hands in green, red and blue as his fingers moved swiftly over them. She had never seen anything like it, and even the cheering crowd was silenced for the first few verses by this impossible spectacle.

We sing together out of key

although we try it seems we just can't find our harmony

we just don't' fit each other's frequencies…

that makes you out of reach

and I am finally accepting that, about you and me

it's plain to see

we only want to stay inside and watch TV

because that's just as good a memory

you're just good company,

and I am finally accepting that

Remember the time when we stole the whole day

and nobody knows it, we took it away

and it will be forever mine, and it will be forever yours

Is he singing in harmony with himself? Rose thought, incredulously. Yes, one of the strings - or part of the string, she couldn't quite work it out - had to be a recorded voice. But there was no denying, the effect was incredible. In the second chorus people got over their initial surprise and started cheering again, and Rose found herself joining in, unable to stop herself as though the music carried with it some kind of infection.

Now we own the night and it can't be undone

We'll never forget how it feels to be young

Cos it will be forever mine, and it will be forever yours

Now we own the night and it can't be undone

Rose felt a rush of disappointment as he strummed the last chord, and the music died away. People were applauding, Al was whooping, even her parents were clapping, her mother wearing her interrogation face - of course she would want to know how he's doing it, Rose realised, I want to know how he's doing it! Scorpius bowed, to even louder applause. Hannah waved to him and made a sign with her hand, and he nodded. "Last orders, ladies and gentlemen," he said smoothly.

There was a rush to the bar, amid the chaos of which Scorpius climbed off the stage and started packing his guitar away. Rose left her seat and, ducking through the crowd, went over to him. "That was amazing," she said, in a rush. "How did you - I didn't know you could do that!"

He smiled at her, clearly pleased by her enthusiasm. "It's easy once you get the hang of it," he said, modestly.

"But how - I mean, is it the strings, or the wand?"

"Both," he said, swinging the guitar over his shoulder again and walking back to the table with her. "I had to get some of the strings made specially - you have no idea how hard it is to tune a string to an organ! But that book Al got me had most of it. I had to improvise a bit," he admitted, as Neville passed him a Butterbeer, and he paused as he took a long sip. "A lot of it was pretty indecipherable because the author was a lutist - lutes and harps! Catch me playing a harp." He grinned impishly.

"Very impressive indeed," Hermione interrupted. "But I wonder, doesn't that constitute a breach of the Statute for the Prevention of Underage -"

"Muu-um!" Rose protested, almost stamping her foot in embarrassment.

"I'm registered with the French Ministry, Mrs Weasley," Scorpius explained, giving Rose a surprised look as though confused by her reaction. "I'm allowed to practice magic with supervision."

"In France, surely," Hermione said, frowning, ignoring the pained look on her daughter's face.

"Actually no," Neville assured her. "I checked - there's a neat little loophole there. Don't worry, Hermione, I'm keeping an eye on him."

She only looked half-convinced, Rose thought, but her curiosity about the technique was clearly more than equivalent to her concerns. She plied Scorpius with questions about the strings, and he explained that he had charmed some, and others had been custom made at a old run-down knick-knacks shop on Horshom Alley, the little second-hand street past Knockturn where Rose had never even been. It wasn't a big shop, he explained, but there was an old wizard there who was very skilled with music charms. "He loves to talk too, I must've learned more from him for free in the last two months than I did for my whole Charms OWL," Scorpius laughed. "He gets lonely, I suppose. The magic wears off fast, though. Apart from the clothes I've spent nearly all my money on strings. I'm going to ask Professor Flitwick if there's a way I can get it to last longer, when we get back."

"Oh he'll love that," Albus said, rolling his eyes. "Didn't he give you a bunch of pamphlets on being a Ministry stooge?"

"Al," Ginny said warningly.

"What, he did! No offence, Dad."

"Oh, none taken," Harry said flatly, emerald eyes twinkling with amusement behind his glasses. "Just don't expect me to pull you out of hot water if you ever get yourself arrested."

The last orders were made and they spend a happy hour in the bright and cosy atmosphere of the Leaky Cauldron as the evening drew on. Rose found that every time she felt Scorpius' eyes on her, she would look up to find him looking in a totally different direction. And while he joked around with Al, helped Hannah put Alice to bed and teased Lily about her hair, part of her ruminated that there was more than just a lack of parental influence that had led to the transformation from shy, introverted boy into confident, dashing, creative young man. Privately she wondered if she would ever know, if it was even her place to try and find out. She would wait, she decided. If he wanted to tell her, he would. And yet, amid plans to meet the next day and kisses and handshakes all round - except between Scorpius and her father, she noticed - she found she was already less than satisfied with that decision.

Chapter Text

2023

~*-R-*~

They went back to the Leaky Cauldron the next day. At some point during the evening it had been suggested that they all go see a film, 'or something'. The look on Scorpius' face at this suggestion had been so hopeful and excited that no one had even considered saying no.

He and Lizzie were waiting in the pub, which was already starting to fill up with more last-minute Hogwarts shoppers, and Lizzie's friend Belinda was with them. Hannah gave Lizzie a handful of Muggle money and told them to behave around the Muggles. Everyone was in Muggle clothes, and it felt very weird to be walking out into Muggle London, as a group, like a trip to Hogsmeade but not in school uniform.

Albus had Googled the location of the nearest cinema, and he took charge of where they were going while Belinda, who was Muggleborn, explained the functions of the various Muggle things they saw as they walked. Rose wasn't so at home in Muggle London that she didn't find these explanations interesting and occasionally informative, and she could tell Lizzie was listening in as well. Scorpius was drinking in every word eagerly.

He stopped at one point, staring at a poster on the back of a bus stop. "I don't get it," he said, confused, while the Muggles walking past him gave them odd looks. Rose looked at the poster. It was of a man and a woman kissing, and they seemed to be coming out of a ball of fire. He was right, it didn't seem to make any sense, but it gave her an odd feeling.

"Don't stare at it!" Belinda laughed, pushing them back onto the pavement proper. "It's an ad for… well, you know."

"I don't know," Rose said defensively.

Belinda rolled her eyes. "Contraception," she said, with exaggerated eyebrow movement.

"What?" Rose blanched. "They just advertise that in the middle of the street?"

"Well yeah, it's not like you could see it being used - Scorp, will you move? People are looking at us!"

"Okay, but I still don't get it," Scorpius complained.

They managed to distract him minutes later however with a window display of video games, giving Rose just enough time to regain her composure, and then they had to go into a large shopping complex to get to the cinema. There they amused themselves for half an hour by reading all the posters and debating which film they should see. Nearly all of them were in 3D, the new high-tech kind where you didn't have to wear glasses. Quite a lot of them seemed to feature explosions and huge muscled men being thrown out of cars. They paused for a while at a poster for a film about a girl who - by the look of the glowing ball of light in her hand - could do magic.

"We should see something without magic in it," Rose said. "Something realistic."

Albus snorted, and Lizzie gave her an incongruous look.

"You know what I mean!" she exclaimed. "Realistic for Muggles, so we - so Scorpius learns something about Muggle culture."

"Let's face it, none of us know what we're doing," Albus shrugged. "Let's just pick the next one showing and go in."

~*-R-*~

" - and that bit, where he jumped off the roof and landed on the bike, and the whole place blew up, and then he drove the bike up the wall - how did he do that?" he demanded. "Come on, you can't tell me that's not some kind of weightlessness charm -"

"He didn't actually do it, you idiot," Albus explained, for the third time. "It's CGI, or something - I don't know how it works, go ask Professor Clearwater."

The film had in fact turned out to be one of the ones with explosions, something to do with an MI5 operative who chased some bad guys across the country, but there was a sub-plot about his on-again, off-again relationship with a girl who happened to be the daughter of one of the bad guys. Rose hadn't seen a film since she was little, and had found the special effects very impressive, but Scorpius was taking his enthusiasm to extremes.

"There is no possible way that any OWL in Muggle Studies could prepare me for that!" he sighed as they wandered into the arcade on the other side of the level. "Who says Muggles can't do magic? That right there was magic, computers or no computers." They sat down at a plastic table on plastic chairs, and Lizzie bought five cokes and some chips with the rest of the money. Scorpius tasted the coke and nearly choked.

"Careful, you'll give yourself the hiccups," Rose warned him, grimacing when she realised how much she sounded like her mum.

"It's good, I just… didn't expect it to fizz so much," he said hoarsely, bravely making a second attempt through a straw.

"Maybe you should ask Professor Clearwater to take the NEWT class on an outing into the Muggle world," Belinda suggested. "There's only so much you can learn by sitting in a classroom, reading books."

"Sounds great, except I bet we'd need permission from a parent or guardian," Scorpius pointed out. "Like Hogsmeade, and I had to practically beg my father to sign that piece of paper. Somehow I don't see him saying yes to a field trip into Edinborough, or somewhere." He took another sip of his coke and swallowed, screwing up his face but apparently determined to enjoy it.

"So, make it next year," Belinda said, shrugging. "You're all seventeen, no permission needed, problem solved."

Scorpius stared at her as though she had just told him he had won a thousand Galleons. "You're a genius!" he croaked.

Albus laughed. "C'mon Scorp, I've got a few coins left, let's go shoot some mafia bosses, or something."

"I have no idea what that means, but I'm game." Scorp got up and followed him through the rows of plastic tables to the cluster of arcade games. Rose watched them go with a faint smile on her face. She had never seen Scorpius so happy. He followed Albus like an excitable puppy, all perked up ears and waggly tail. All her concerns of the previous day seemed almost silly, now.

From beside her, she heard Belinda let out a long, deep sigh.

"What's the matter?" she asked, glancing around.

"Oh, nothing. Just… Scorpius. I was going to ask him out, but I don't think it's worth having to fight you for him."

Rose blinked, her grip inexplicably tightening on her glass. "What?"

Lizzie giggled. "Oh, please. You haven't stopped staring at him since you got back. Mind you, now he doesn't look like a little boy anymore, I don't blame you."

"I don't fancy Scorp!" Rose hissed, looking up quickly to make sure the two boys were out of earshot. Albus was showing his friend how to hold the plastic gun and shoot into the computer screen, and Scorpius was laughing at the absurdity of it. His laugh seemed to bring out the curve of his cheekbones in a way she hadn't noticed before.

Lizzie was nodding. "Right. Of course you don't. You're just in love with him."

"Lizzie, don't be ridic- "

"He likes you too, you know."

Rose stopped, her mouth hanging open. "What do you mean?" she asked eventually, as calmly as she could possibly manage.

"He never shuts up about you! Rose this, Rose that… when he found out you were coming to the pub, he was in the shower for about a day and a half, and I think he spent the rest of the week deciding what shirt he should wear."

"I feel like I should congratulate him on his choice," Belinda said dreamily, resting her chin in her hands and staring in the boys' direction. "Of shirt, I mean. Look at him. I don't suppose you might share him just a little bit?" Rose stared at her. It was absurd, of course. Scorp was her friend. They had been friends ever since she had decided they would be friends. He was like an honorary cousin, like Teddy.

"Look, this is stupid," Rose said firmly. "I am not in love with - and he isn't - neither of us are in love with each other! We're friends."

"So you don't mind if I ask him?" Belinda asked.

"Ask away," Rose said crossly, although for some reason she was less than happy with the idea. Scorpius and Belinda would not work together, any more than he and Rose would. Looking over at him again, now thoroughly engrossed in killing whatever was on the screen, she tried to imagine him with a girl - any girl. She would be hanging off his arm while they played, he would turn and kiss her when his turn was over. Probably he would serenade her in front of the whole arcade. The thought put a sickening pit in her stomach. She hadn't liked him being with Stacey either, she realised. Back then she had thought it was because Scorpius was being silly, going out with someone he barely knew, but she had done the same thing, hadn't she? The memory of her last date sent a shiver of unpleasantness down her spine. But she wasn't in love with him. She had been annoyed at Albus for dating, as well, and no one could accuse her of being in love with her own cousin.

She found to her deep embarrassment that she couldn't even look at Scorpius for the rest of the afternoon. Luckily they had to leave for the Leaky Cauldron not long after they had finished at the arcade, so that Scorpius could get ready for his set that night. "Are you going to stay for it?" Lizzie asked. "Oh, and Bel's staying over, if you want to do that, Rose can sleep in my room with us and Al can crash in Tony's room, or bunk with Scorpius."

Rose wanted to say no. She really needed to go home and sort out all the thoughts and feelings that the uncomfortable conversation at the arcade had stirred up. "Sure," Albus said, before she could say anything. "I'll go Floo mum."

There were less people in the Leaky that night, but a few regulars were obviously pleased to hear Scorpius play again. He played a different song, this time, and without his wand attached to the guitar, the coloured strings played normally. One of the older ones was starting to fade magically, he explained.

"Well I know what I'm getting you for Christmas," Albus joked as his friend made a thorough double-check of all the others, tapping them with his wand and listening to the sound they made.

"I'll need six by then," Scorpius said as he put the instrument away.

"We'll get you three each, then, right Rosie?"

Rose started, having distanced herself so far from the conversation that it was a shock to be brought back to it. "Right," said said, nodding but still not quite able to meet Scorpius' eyes.

Albus frowned at her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "Just thinking."

"No need for that sort of thing, you know, we're still on holiday," Scorpius said. She looked up quickly and smiled before dropping her gaze again. There was a moment's silence that seemed to Rose to last about an hour before someone changed the subject, but she could feel his eyes on her, questioning.

The pub was closing around them before long, and there was nothing left to do but get ready for bed. Scorpius had his own guest room on the third floor, and he wished them goodnight in the pub before the rest of them went up to squeeze themselves into the Longbottoms' apartment. Lizzie showed Albus Tony's old room, and then got Hannah to conjure two extra beds in her own room, and loaned them pyjamas. There were only a few minutes of the customary chatter before both Hufflepuffs fell asleep, leaving Rose alone to stare up at the dark ceiling.

It couldn't be true, could it?

The song, she thought, had been about friendship. Not love. But he had written it for both of them, and he could hardly sing about being in love with Albus. Then again, even if he did love her, she couldn't believe he would sing her a love song in front of her whole family. Just because he had been excited to see her, that didn't mean anything. But Lizzie had seemed so sure, and she would know, having lived with him all summer, surely she would know better than anyone. But she hadn't said that he had come right out and said it. So maybe she was just mistaking a particularly strong friendship for love.

Love. How had they gone, in less than two days, from being best friends to having this word 'love' thrown around like it was a given? All right, she was prepared to admit that she didn't want him dating other girls. But she wasn't sure she wanted to date him herself, either. And whether she wanted to or not, it hardly mattered unless he did want to go out with her, which it still wasn't clear that he did. He hadn't singled her out at all, today. It had just been a group outing. He hadn't even tried to sit next to her in the cinema. Lizzie was just twisting things around to how she thought they really were. Unless… he did like her, but didn't quite realise it? Like Rose herself, before today? Maybe he didn't want her dating other boys, either.

After what seemed like hours of her brain going round and round in circles, she sat up and rubbed at her eyes. This was stupid. She was a Weasley, dammit. Weasleys did not mope around waiting for something to happen, they made things happen. She had to ask him.

She slid out of the conjured bed, still dressed in Lizzie's spare pyjamas, and slipped her shoes onto her feet. Belinda let out a loud snore as she crept out of the door, closing it gently behind her.

Despite the late hour, and it must have been past one in the morning, there were still people up. She could hear them talking, laughing behind one of the closed doors on the first floor guest rooms. She tip-toed past the door and made her way up to the third floor. Luckily only one of the doors had an occupied sign on it. She stood outside it for a moment, wondering if she really wanted to do this. But it was freezing out in the hallway in thin cotton pyjamas, and the sooner she got in, the sooner she would be warm. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

There was a moment's silence, but just as she was about to knock again, a hoarse voice called, "who is it?"

"It's me," she said softly. "Rose."

The door opened. He stood there rubbing his eyes, his hair tousled. He was wearing only a pair of loose track pants that slung low on his hips. They looked old, but perhaps that had belonged to Tony. "What is it?" he asked, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

She still couldn't meet his eyes. She was afraid of what she would see in them, though what she was afraid of she couldn't quite decide - was it love she was afraid to see? Or was she afraid not to see it? Unfortunately the only alternative was looking at his bare chest, and trying desperately not to stare any lower. "I need to talk to you," she said.

"You know it's like two in the morning, right?" he mumbled.

"Yeah. Sorry."

He shook his head. "Come in then."

He closed the door behind her and fumbled around in the dark for his wand. "Lumos," he muttered, and balanced it on the dresser, giving them just enough light to see each other by. Rose sat on the rumpled bed - it smelled like him... Oh Merlin, how did she even know what he smelled like? - while he found his T-shirt. The wand-light flickered against his back as he pulled it on, muscles moving under the skin until the dark fabric fell to his waist.

He didn't turn back to her straight away, as though he was gathering himself. "So what do you want to talk about?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against a bare patch of wall.

She forced herself to look up at him. It was easier in the dark, his eyes shadowed by his hair and the expression on his face unreadable by the wand light. "It's… it's hard to say," she said, catching a lock of her hair between her fingers and twisting it nervously. "It's just something Lizzie said…"

He sighed, and his head drooped slightly over his chest. "She told you. I knew it. You were acting weird all day."

She swallowed. So he did know.

"She promised she wouldn't tell," Scorpius muttered, and she felt, despite the shocking nature of this revelation, a stab of anger. If he was in love with her, didn't she have a right to know? How dare he deliberately try and keep it from her?

"I wish you'd told me yourself," she said shortly.

"You didn't need to know!" he shot back, so harshly that she jumped. "And I just wanted… it's been such a good summer, I just wanted to forget about it…."

She frowned. Something wasn't quite right with what he was saying. He uncrossed his arms to run his hands roughly through his hair, and she thought his hands shook, though it was hard to tell in the gloom. He didn't offer anything more. "Scorp?" she prompted, after a while.

"I should've known you wouldn't buy that story about staying with friends," he said, low.

She stared at him. "No, I didn't." Was that what he thought she wanted to talk about? Yesterday she had wanted to ask him, it was true, but she had almost forgotten about it completely while dealing with Lizzie's ridiculous suggestion. "That's not what happened, then? Your grandmother didn't just let you leave?"

He let out a short, derisive breath. "No. No, she didn't let me leave. She told me to leave."

Another short silence. Rose tried to understand what he was saying to her, and didn't feel any the wiser. "Tell me," she said, finally, as gently as she could manage. He looked tense, as though ready to either explode or break down at any second.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyes up tight. "Rosie, I… " and another harsh breath.

Suddenly, she didn't want to know. She was imagining all kinds of terrible things without the need for him to confirm any of them. But she saw in him the same need to speak that she had felt, almost a year ago after the Hogsmeade weekend, when Gary had kissed her. Part of her had dreaded the thought of anyone knowing, hated the idea of the humiliation she would suffer having to say the words. But deep down, she had known that she needed someone to talk to, that the worst thing she could possibly do was keep it bottled up inside her. And it was the same now, she knew. He wanted to tell someone. He needed to tell someone. He just couldn't.

She got up and went to him, gently pulling his hands away from his face so she could look into his eyes. She didn't know what she had expected to see, but what she did see was the Scorpius she remembered from their first year. A frightened little boy who needed her help.

He gave her a pleading look, and she pulled him over to the bed and sat him down before climbing on beside him and taking both his hands in hers. "Tell me," she said again.

"She told me to leave, because… because my grandfather did something to me… and she was afraid of what would happen… what would happen to him, if anyone found out," he said. His voice was unexpectedly steady, and she squeezed his hands a little tighter, trying to keep her own voice from shaking as she asked.

"What did he do? Did he hit you?" Horrible as it was to admit it to herself, she realised she would not be surprised by this. The way he had spoken about his grandparents, she should have known something like that would happen.

"No." He sighed. "He's totally mad. Worse than before. He didn't know who I was, at all. He thought I was… that I was my father."

Rose didn't know what to say to that, so she just held his hand until he felt ready to go on.

"He's afraid of my father, I think. When I was little there was a fight… but anyway. At first it wasn't so bad, he was calling me his boy and saying he was going to buy me things, stupid things, like a racing broom… then suddenly it all changed. He kept saying I had ruined his life, that I had betrayed him… he pulled his wand on me. I didn't even have mine on me, I left it in my trunk, it was stupid…"

"He cursed you?" Rose asked, feeling sick. Hexes and little jinxes were one thing, but she couldn't imagine actually being cursed by someone in her own family, let alone her grandfather who was the sweetest old man in the world.

A pause. "Remember… Defence Against the Dark Arts, last year, we learned about the Unforgivable Curses? The Cruciatus Curse?"

Rose felt her heart sink even further. "Oh Scorp, no…"

"It was worse than anything… you have no idea. I thought I was going to die from the pain. It was like knives… and fire, and drowning, all at once." He was speaking faster now, his need to get through it overtaking his reluctance. "It seemed to go on forever and ever. Grandmother stopped him eventually, I don't know how… she told me he would die if he went back to prison, and if I stayed he might do something worse. She gave me Floo Powder, said I had to leave and not come back, and never tell anyone. I was shaking all over, I could barely walk, I couldn't think of where to go. I wanted…" he faltered for a moment, awkwardly. "I wanted to see you… you and Albus, but then I remembered you were in Italy… the best I could think of was the Leaky Cauldron. I came out in their living room - fell over in the grate. Neville found me."

Rose found she could hardly breathe. "Did you tell him what happened?"

Scorpius shook his head slowly. "No. But he knew, anyway. He said he knew the signs. He said we didn't have to tell the Ministry if I didn't want to, but I shouldn't go back, and I could stay here. That… that's it, really."

Rose stared at him. "But didn't Neville want to report it? He's a teacher! And he used to be an Auror, surely he can't just ignore someone using an Unforgivable Curse on his own student -"

"Yeah, he wanted to report it. I've never seen him so angry. But I asked him not to -"

"But why, Scorp?" she asked, leaning forward to peer under where he was hiding behind his fringe.

"Because, because…" he swallowed and shook his head. "Because it's illegal, because he'll go back to Azkaban, because he'll die there and everyone will blame me, don't you get it? This is my family -"

"No families I know use unforgivable curses on each other!" Rose protested. "Who cares if he goes to prison, he deserves it!"

"I care!" he almost shouted, pulling his hands away. "This is why I didn't tell you, because you wouldn't understand…"

"No, I don't understand," she said. "Explain it to me."

"I don't want to be responsible for anyone in my family going to prison, again," he said, slowly and painfully. "They've already been through enough - I know, I know they deserved it," he said quickly at the look on her face. "Mr Potter is the only reason they're not all still in prison, that I was even born… I know that. But it has to stop. I want it to stop. And it will stop, with me," he said firmly. "I decided that my very first year at Hogwarts, that things are going to different… but if he goes back, Rosie, it'll start this all over again, it's hard enough already… people will always think that I'm one of them."

"Okay," she said, reaching out to put a gentle hand on his shoulder. She still thought he was wrong, but the desperation in his voice was such that she could believe he had convinced Neville not to press charges. "But, Scorp… your father, surely he should know…"

He snorted, a trace of his usual self rearing its head. "Even if I could tell him where I've been all summer, which I obviously can't… look, he might come up here and beat the living daylights out of my grandfather, but I think it's more likely that he'd tell me I should have done it myself. And I don't want to hear that."

He met her eyes, finally, and she knew he was telling the truth. "But… you're so different," she said, helplessly. "You seem so happy."

"I am happy," he assured her, hard as it was to believe. "After that, being here… it's been great. The Longbottoms treat me like a real person, like I'm worth something, and I know I've helped Hannah bring people in in the evenings, and I've got used to convincing people that I'm not going to murder them in their sleep. After a while you just… brush it off. I just be myself."

"I wondered why you were so relaxed around dad and uncle Harry," Rose admitted.

"Trust me, I wasn't, I've just gotten better at pretending," he said, smiling weakly. "And I couldn't write to you or Al… I'm sorry, but I couldn't explain all this in a letter, and I just knew you guys wouldn't accept the same story we told everyone else. Except Hannah, and… Lizzie knows a bit," he added darkly. "Because she saw me when I was still shaky and sick - I still can't believe she told you."

"She didn't," Rose said. "Don't worry about it. That was… something else."

"Oh."

"I still wish you would have told me."

"I wanted to." He pushed his hair back out of his eyes. "I did, Rosie, honestly. It's just we were having such a good time, I didn't want to ruin everything. I knew you'd figure it out eventually, though. You're annoyingly clever, even for a Ravenclaw."

She sighed, and reached forward to hug him around the neck, resting her head on his shoulder. "I knew something horrible was going to happen," she said softly, "I just knew it… I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he said, low, and she felt the weight of his hand come up to rest on her back. "Even with all that… it really has been the best summer ever."

She felt tears come to her eyes, and closed them tight, defensively. He had not cried, and she was not going to make things worse by doing it for him. Instead she held the hug for as long as she could. "What do you want to do now?" she asked, softly.

"Er…" he looked oddly guilty. "Well, I don't suppose we could go back to sleep, could we? It's been a long day, and I was having a great dream about that guy from the film…"

She slapped him on the shoulder.

"What!" he exclaimed in a low hiss. "It's two in the morning! You're the one who woke me up to talk about all this personal stuff, and I have a breakfast shift tomorrow and I have to shower and do my hair…"

She burst out laughing. "What have you done with your hair?"

He made a face and ruffled it ruefully. "Lizzie showed me a curling charm - just a little one! It was starting to look girly from the back, it got so long. And Hannah suggested I charm it darker blond - not so it's really noticeable, but it works, right?" He looked so hopeful that she had to laugh.

"Yes, it works. I hardly recognised you."

"Good. Now get out, woman, I need my beauty sleep." He made shooing motions, so she patted him fondly on the knee and got up to leave. "Hey… Rosie?"

"Yes?"

"What did Lizzie say that made you come all the way over here, if it wasn't about my grandparents?"

Rose paused. She had almost forgotten the reason she had come over in the first place. If she was honest, however, the conversation had already tired her out a lot, and the idea of what would happen if she added more fuel to the fire now…. anyway. It was stupid. He obviously didn't feel the way about her that Lizzie thought he did. He had just been worried about telling her about his grandparents. She smiled at him. "That was nothing," she said, slipping out of the door and back into the cold, dark hallway. "Nothing at all."

Chapter Text

2023

~*-S-*~

When the time came, it was incredibly hard to leave the Leaky Cauldron. Scorpius had never thought he would ever not want to go back to school. Hannah had become a very close friend, and he thought he would never respect any man as much as he did Neville. The Professor would be returning to Hogwarts, of course, but Scorpius was no longer doing Herbology; he would see much less of him.

"You must come, on Christmas Day," Hannah insisted, hugging him just as tightly as she had Lizzie, on platform nine and three quarters. "Promise? Write a new song for us?"

"Course I will," he said thickly, as she reached up to ruffle his hair.

"All our regulars will miss you!" she said. "What am I going to do for evening entertainment?"

"Mum, leave him alone or he'll quit school just to go back with you," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes.

If this wasn't bad enough, saying goodbye to Alice was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. He would have just given her a quick hug and run away before it all got too much, but she seemed to understand that he was leaving and refused to let go of him. "Scoooor!" she screamed, loud enough for nearly everyone on the platform to hear. "Nooooooo!"

"Oh bloody Merlin," he muttered. "You menace, people are going to think I'm kidnapping you!"

"She doesn't care that I'm leaving," Lizzie said, offended. "Alice, stop being a baby and let him go, the train's leaving, come on…" She tried to detach the little girl, but she only screamed even louder and clung on for dear life. Hannah made a motion to pull her away, but Scorpius shook his head. He didn't want anyone to have to drag her off him. He didn't want her to remember him as something she had been torn unfairly away from.

"It's okay," he said, taking a breath and putting his arms carefully under and around her so she didn't have to hang by his t-shirt like a monkey. "Ally-pally, it's okay. It's only for a little while, and I'll see you at Christmas, all right?"

She stopped screaming, but only so she could bury her face in his shoulder and cry. He stroked her hair, helplessly. It had only been three months, but in that time she had become just like a little sister to him. Even now he was afraid that he would come back at Christmas to find that she didn't remember him at all.

"Oh, that's so sweet."

The Potters and Weasleys had chosen the most inopportune time to arrive. Scorpius could see Ginny, Hermione, Fleur, Rose, Albus, Hugo, Louis, Lily, James, Fred, Roxie, the twins' mum Angelina, and Molly's mother Audrey holding the hand of a tiny little red-headed first year he could only assume was the youngest cousin, Lucy. It was Ginny who had spoken, coming forward with her hands outstretched. "Alice? Come to Aunty Ginny, sweetheart. Come on, remember Aunty Ginny?"

Alice finally, finally allowed herself to be peeled away after several minutes of cooing and cajoling, and sat sulking in Ginny's arms, sucking her thumb.

"Thanks," Scorpius breathed, straightening out the creases in his beloved 'Bands' T-shirt. He picked up his guitar and swung it over his shoulder. It felt odd to be standing here on the station with it. Some people from other houses he didn't know were giving him odd looks as they passed by. He would have been ashamed if he didn't know how to deal with looks by now, though.

The youngest Weasley, who looked very small compared to everyone else with her red hair in neat little pigtails, burst into tears at this point. The new sixth and fourth years managed to escape the platform at last while everyone made attempts to comfort her.

"Poor Luce," Rose said as they dragged their trunks onto the train. "She's had her mum and dad to herself while Molly's done all seven years. She'll miss them like crazy."

"Baby," Lily muttered. "I didn't cry, my first time."

"No, but you cried the first time James left," Albus pointed out, and she glared at him. They found a compartment with only a couple of first years in it, and Albus shooed them out, much to Rose's disapproval.

"What? We're sixth years now, we're one year away from ruling the school. First years are basically our slaves."

"That's not funny, Al. No wonder you never got made a Prefect."

"Speak for yourself."

"Why didn't Professor McGonagall make any of you Prefects last year?" Hugo asked. "Mum was sooo disappointed…"

"Shut up!" Rose hissed. "Anyway I don't have time to be a Prefect, with school and Quidditch, neither does Alby."

"Scorpius doesn't have Quidditch," Lily pointed out.

The three Ravenclaws looked at each other, awkwardly. "Professor McGonagall hates me," Scorpius said eventually, by way of explanation.

"Scorp! She does not." Rose looked indignant.

"Right, so that conversation we had about her not even wanting to let me come to Hogwarts was in my imagination?"

"That was four years ago. I'm sure she's come around to you, by now."

Scorp blew hair out of his eyes and shrugged. "Who wants to be a Prefect, anyway? Peter's much better at herding first years around and helping them with the riddles." The truth was, he had been a bit disappointed at the time, wondering if McGonagall and Flitwick had agonised over it or if he hadn't even been considered. But now he knew he would be a dreadful Prefect, so clearly no matter what the reasons were, the right decision had at least been made.

The Weasley parents came to the compartment window to say their final goodbyes. Listening to Louis chattering to his mother in French, Scorpius realised just how long it had been since he had spoken in that language, except in his head, or when he particularly wanted to curse.

Hannah waved at Lizzie, then at him, and he felt a slight pang as he remembered that the last time his own mother had seen him to the station, he had been twelve. He hadn't seen her now for two years.

Ginny held up Alice, who took her thumb out of her mouth to wave tiredly. His own brother would be two and a half, by now.

Audrey had finally convinced Lucy to get on the train. Rose got up to give her tiny cousin a hand onto the step, and then they all stood at the window, waving as the train let out an ear-splitting whistle and set off from the station.

Scorpius, Lizzie, Rose and Albus sat around a table at a booth while the Gryffindors coaxed Lucy into a game of Exploding Snap, pulling out their wands with excitement after a whole summer of being forbidden to use them, and showing her some of the things she would be learning in Charms and Transfiguration.

"How come none of your dads came?" Scorpius asked, as King's Cross disappeared from view out of the window. He had thought it was strange that only the women had come to see off their children, when normally it was like an annual family reunion on the platform.

"Too busy," Albus shrugged. "Soon as we got back from Italy, the whole Shadow thing blew up. Everyone's tracking down the operatives, interrogating them, staking out drop-off points… they don't seem to be getting any closer, though."

"He's a very clever smuggler," Rose explained. "None of the lower down people, who do the actual smuggling, know who he is."

"Or who they are," Al interrupted. "There's still no evidence that it's just one guy."

"So your whole family is hunting him, or what?" Scorpius asked, confused. "I thought it was just the Aurors."

"Well more and more people are getting involved," Rose said. "Teddy's doing spy work in Europe, Uncle Percy's in Portugal as a liaison, Uncle Bill is trying to work out the spells they're using on the packaging, even Mum's been to some of the interrogations. Apparently she's really good at it," she added, unsurprised.

"The trade's getting worse and worse here, that's why," Albus explained. "Dad said a few people might have already been killed by this dark stuff, but it's hard to tell because there's no way to trace any of it."

"Anyway," Lizzie was already bored by the conversation. "What classes do you think we'll have together?"

"Well, Charms, Defence and Transfiguration are big classes, there might be two of each, so I don't know," Rose mused, instantly distracted by the topic of schoolwork. "I'm the only one doing Ancient Runes -"

"Nice knowing you," Albus muttered.

"But you and Al will probably have Care of Magical Creatures together, Lizzie, and me and Al will have Potions together, and Scorp…"

"Will be doing Muggle Studies by himself, as usual," Scorpius sighed dramatically.

"What about Stacey?" Albus grinned. "Any future touching of hands over the textbook?"

Scorpius laughed dryly. "I don't know if she's taking it. It'll be a small class, either way, there are so few ignorant purebloods like me in our year."

"You're not ignorant." Rose was suddenly looking sour, for some reason. "At least you're making an effort. And it's not like the rest of us are experts on Muggles…"

"Your grandparents are Muggles!" Scorpius pointed out incredulously.

"Okay, but we don't see them that much, and we were all just as clueless as you at the cinema."

Scorpius frowned, wondering why she was so defensive all of a sudden. He thought guiltily back to their middle-of-the-night conversation, nearly a week ago but clear in his mind. It had been hard, very hard, to relive the first few days of his summer after so long trying to forget it completely. But he had felt better afterwards, like he had been keeping secrets from her and was now free of them. Oddly, he didn't feel the same compulsion to tell Albus, and he didn't think Rose had, either. Then again Albus had always been fiercely protective, and Scorpius didn't think he needed anyone to protect him anymore. He was taller, stronger and able to take care of himself, and he was turning seventeen in March. Yes, Al could definitely live without knowing.

~*-S-*~

His grandmother, at least, had seemed genuinely sad to see him go. Of course, this could have been confused with her terror at coming in to find him thrashing on the floor in the throes of the Cruciatus Curse. He still didn't know how she had stopped it. He remembered only her dragging him by the arm into the dark, dust-covered sitting room as he stumbled blindly along behind her, and pressing half a handful of Floo powder into his hand. "You mustn't tell anyone," she had said in her husky voice. "Your grandfather is ill… very ill… if he goes to Azkaban again it will kill him."

"But where do I go?" he had asked, holding himself up by the mantelpiece, trying to focus beyond the lingering pain, the shakes that wracked his body, and the double vision.

"Anywhere else," she told him firmly, though the look on her face was one of regret. Her wand was held tight in her right hand as though she expected to have to fight at any second. "Just don't stay here. You grandfather… he's very…"

"Ill, yes, you said," Scorpius muttered. His legs were shaking madly and he wasn't sure how long they would hold him. Every now and then there was a stab of pain through his stomach, like a cramp. "What about you?"

"I am in no danger," Narcissa told him. She raised a hand and stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers. Her touch was very cold. "Just like your father," she said, sorrowfully. "Just like him."

For once, Scorpius didn't have the energy to argue. He looked down at the Floo powder in his hand. Where could he go? Back to school? Would anyone even be there? He had confused visions of living in the kitchens with the House Elves for an entire summer. And if someone was there, what would he say? They would just owl his father to pick him up, and he could just imagine how well that would go. For a brief, hopeful moment he thought of Rose and Al, and then remembered crushingly that they were in Italy, and would be for months. His next thought was the Leaky Cauldron. The only people who had ever made him feel like he belonged. But they weren't his family. He wasn't as close with Lizzie as he was with Rose and Albus, and while Hannah and Neville had been kind to him so far, he wasn't sure how they would take his imposing on them for months. He didn't have nearly enough money to rent a room for that long…

There was an agonised roaring sound from the study, and his grandmother flinched. "Go," she whispered. "Don't come back. Please."

There was no more time to think. Scorpius threw the powder into the fireplace, - "Leaky Cauldron, publican's apartment!" and stumbled into it.

The next thing he remembered was someone bathing his face with cool water, and muttering. Coming to, he realised he was lying on a soot-stained carpet, and his head was in the lap of his Herbology Professor. He tried to sit up and fell back, his whole body shaking.

"Stay still," Neville muttered, flicking his wand over Scorpius' limbs, and the shaking was suddenly not quite as bad.

"I'm sorry!" Scorpius exclaimed, seeing the mess he had made of the Longbottom's living room. He must have tripped over the grate, something he hadn't done since his father had taught him not to from the age of four.

"Shh. Don't try to move, you'll make it worse. I haven't seen shakes this bad for years. Do you have cramps?"

Scorpius squinted up at the man. There was concern in his face, but also a terrible, frightening fury. "Yeah, a bit," he said, unable to tell anything but the truth in the face of that look.

"It'll pass. It depends on how long you were under. There's no countercurse, as I'm sure you know, but I know a few charms to relax the muscles so it doesn't hurt as much. Tired?"

"God yes."

"We'll find you a bed. Bloody hell, I should have known something like this… when you're settled I'll go straight to the Ministry. Who was it, your father?"

"No, I…" Scorpius stared. "How did you know…?"

Neville looked grim. "I've seen this curse used more times than I care to count. Trust me, I know the signs." He helped Scorpius to his feet and helped him limp into one of the back rooms. It was decorated in Gryffindor colours, very neatly arranged, and clearly unlived in. Tony's room, he realised. Scorpius collapsed on the bed and put his hands over his face. The light was burning his eyes - at least, that's what he told himself later. Neville switched it off and leaned against the door jamb for a moment, gathering himself. "You rest," he said eventually. "I'll be back in a bit."

Scorpius sat up, every muscle protesting fiercely. "Professor - please don't go to the Ministry."

Neville sighed. "I have to report this, Scorpius. You're my student -"

"Not now, though," Scorpius pointed out. "It's the holidays -"

"Mr Malfoy," Neville's tone turned hard and Professor-like. "As I'm sure you are aware, the use of the Cruciatus Curse warrants a life sentence in Azkaban. I can't simply overlook -"

"But not without evidence, right?" Scorpius interrupted again. "I'll deny it if you tell them."

There was a pause while Neville stared at him incredulously. "Why?"

Scorpius had not been able to answer. He hadn't been to put the reasons into words until much later, when Rose had asked him, and even then it still seemed jumbled in his mind. Neville tried a few more times to convince him otherwise, but he was adamant, even between stages of fitful sleeping. Lizzie, on hearing that he was there, walked in on him during a shaking fit, and had to be calmed down. He heard his Herbology Professor arguing loudly with Hannah in the living room, and though he couldn't quite make out the words, he knew it was about him. It took him about a day to recover completely, and Neville told him that meant he must have suffered the curse for a long time, longer than most wizards would dare. Much longer and he might have been killed, or driven mad. Hearing that sent a chill down his spine.

Hannah and Neville sat down with him and told him he was welcome to stay, but warned him that some of the patrons of the pub might be less than friendly. He was ready for that, though. He begged to be allowed to work for his keep, and they in turn insisted on paying him a wage above it. He was good at the work, and he enjoyed it, especially when Hannah convinced him to play his guitar in the evenings - Neville used the Floo to go back to Hogwarts and retrieve it from under his bed in Ravenclaw Tower. He knew he should have written to Rose and Albus, but some deeper instinct told him that any lies he could come up with, they would see right through. Rose especially. And she had seen right through it.

He thought back to that night, when he had woken blearily to find her at his door, wearing borrowed pyjamas and her face full of concern. How she had sat with him, held his hand and put her arm around him, and suddenly none of it seemed to matter anymore. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have friends like that.

"Dude, are you okay?" Al's voice brought him back to reality with a jerk.

Scorpius shook his head. "What? No, I'm fine - what's 'dude'?"

"Moving on," Albus grinned. "Bets on Head Boy and Girl? Thank Merlin James and the twins aren't in the running."

~*-S-*~

There were three people Scorpius knew at the Sorting that year - unusual, for him, as the first years were usually faceless randoms he clapped for on automatic. Lucy was one this year, looking very small and timid at the back of the line. Halfway down were the twin boys that he had met during his first Christmas visit to Diagon Alley. He still couldn't tell which one was which, but he remembered them asking a lot of annoying questions.

They alone out of their year group looked confident and excited to wear the hat, as Professor Longbottom began reading out the names. The rest seemed to be following Lucy's example, trembling in their shiny new school shoes.

"Were we ever that small?" Scorpius asked over the sound of applause from the Gryffindor table as 'Beggs, Tui' was Sorted.

"You were," Albus said, smirking. Scorpius shot him a quelling look in reply and turned his attention back to the first years. When the twin boys' names were called, one after the other, they sauntered up to the hat without a care in the world.

"Scamander, Lycan!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Scamander, Lysander!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Oh great," Albus sighed, clapping politely as the dark-haired twins found seats at the end of the table. "We'll be jumping off the tower just to get away from them in two days."

"Be nice," Rose scolded him. "Listen, it's almost Lucy's turn."

"Travers, George!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Vane, Emily!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Weasley, Lucy!"

Everyone watched as the last Weasley in the current generation made her way to the stool. The hat seemed to take its time with her. Scorpius supposed it must be talking to her, because she seemed to calm down a bit, her hands releasing their death grip on the stool to rest in her lap.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Oh good!" Rose exclaimed, almost giving her cousin a standing ovation in her enthusiasm.

Scorpius thought the girl might be disappointed - nearly all her family was in Gryffindor, after all - but she seemed cheerful enough as she handed the hat back to Neville and came over to the Ravenclaw table. Rose made Albus scoot over so that she could sit between them. "I'm so glad," Rose whispered to her as Professor McGonagall began her welcome speech. Lucy smiled back at her.

For the first time, Scorpius was not quite overjoyed to sleep in his four-poster in the Ravenclaw boys' dormitory. It was nice to see Gaius and Peter, of course, and to put his guitar back in its accustomed place under the bed. He left his father's lock-box in his trunk. After the events of the summer, it made him uncomfortable to look at it. But as he went to bed, he found himself missing his little room at the Leaky Cauldron, the sound of Diagon Alley nightlife outside his window. It was hard to sleep, and when he finally did sink into unconsciousness, it seemed like only minutes before Albus was shaking him awake again to go down to breakfast.

"We need timetables," Al reminded him when Scorpius muttered that he'd rather not go. Grumbling, Scorp forced himself out of bed and made for the shower. He was so despondent that he forgot to do anything with his hair, so that it hung flatly around his face like a curtain. Rose gave him an odd look when they met her in the Common Room. He did his best to ignore it, but he felt self-conscious all the way down to the Great Hall.

Professor Flitwick was all over the place at breakfast, trying to determine whether the students had done well enough in their OWLs to get into their preferred subjects. Of course, most of the Ravenclaws had passed all their OWLs, and wanted to do the more advanced classes, which seemed to make it even more difficult for the old wizard.

"Here's a thought," Albus muttered while Flitwick finished up with Gaius. "Why don't the school and the OWL examiners talk to each other? Then they could sort all this out before we even get here."

"Brilliant," Scorpius mumbled back, trying to eat toast without getting any in his hair, and contemplating Transfiguring something to tie it back with.

"Mr Malfoy!"

Scorpius flinched and grimaced. No one had called him by his last name in months. "Yes, Professor?"

Flitwick handed him a timetable. Even sitting, Scorpius had to bend down to receive it from him. "All your subjects are acceptable, but you had better pull your socks up in Transfiguration this term or Professor Davies will let me know!"

"Who in Merlin's name is Professor Davies?" Albus asked, once his and Rose's subjects had also been confirmed.

"He must be the new Professor, the youngish one. He was on the staff table, last night."

"Another one? What happened to Professor Ashborne?"

"Oh come on, Alby," Rose sighed. "They're all getting old, you know that. Mum says all the older teachers will be retiring soon - McGonagall and Flitwick are next, she thinks. They've been here the longest."

"McGonagall's been here about three hundred years," Scorpius agreed, earning him a giggle from some nearby first years who included Lucy Weasley. She seemed to have found a few friends among her year group - not including the Scamander boys who were apparently carrying on an in-depth discussion with each other about the contents of their boiled eggs.

~*-A-*~

Rose's vague description of 'youngish' translated into a tall man in his mid to late forties, with thick dark hair. Even Al could tell he was good looking. As they entered the Transfiguration classroom for their first class of the year, he noticed that the entire front row and most of the second were occupied by girls. Albus rolled his eyes and took his customary seat on Scorpius' left, with Rose on his right. They had flanked him like this for years, and it was a hard habit to break, even if he clearly didn't need it anymore. Lizzie came and sat on Al's other side, though even she seemed to have eyes for the new Professor.

"Welcome class," David said, smiling, and a few girls made little sighing noises. "My name is Professor Roger Davies, and I'll be your new Transfiguration teacher for this year… and perhaps beyond, depending on how things go. I went to Hogwarts myself, like most of your teachers… Ravenclaw class of '96, if anyone's interested. Now, congratulations everyone for getting through your OWLs. However I must warn you that sixth year is likely to test some of you more than you were expecting. I'm sure you're all aware that it's the time when you start practicing non-verbal spells…"

A few people groaned. James had warned Al about this, but he had mostly forgotten.

"…harder than a lot of people think!" Davies was saying now. "So today we'll start it slow. I'm sure you remember turning matches into needles in your first year, well, let's see if you can still do it, eh?"

A few people snickered. Al could see Carcer and Daws making cynical faces - Jian evidently having either failed his Transfiguration OWL or deigned not to take the subject at NEWT.

The matches were handed out. Everyone got out their wands and sat staring silently at their matches, turning red as they held their breath and willed them to turn into needles.

"No cheating!" Davies called out cheerfully as one of the Gryffindors muttered the incantation audibly enough for him to hear. Al had to admit that the man's attitude was a bit more enjoyable than the dry and dusty tones of old Professor Ashborne, or the sharp, no-nonsense rhetoric of Professor McGonagall, who had filled in a few times.

By the end of the class, no one had managed to turn their match into a needle, although Albus thought his looked greyer than normal, and Rose's had gone quite pointy. Scorpius had got further than anyone else. His match still had four noticeable edges, but it was silver, sharp at one end, and there was a hole at the other end. Rose was visibly unhappy about this.

"But how come you can do it?" she asked as they left Transfiguration for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"I dunno," he said helplessly. "I guess, maybe because of the music charms?"

She looked at him blankly.

"You know, keeping track of all the different instruments, controlling them in your head… it's hard! I spent ages learning it, and there's no incantation."

Al supposed he was right. He had been doing non-verbal spells for months, and they hadn't really thought twice about it.

Defence Against the Dark Arts turned out to be pretty similar to Transfiguration. Professor Tufty had them line up in pairs and try to jinx their partners while the other tried to repel them with a shield charm. After a while it got really boring, standing for over an hour and glaring at each other while they strained to make something happen.

Rose paired with Scorpius, apparently determined to wrest the secret of his success from him, leaving Albus to partner with Lizzie. He stood there waiting as patiently as possible while she screwed up her eyes and brandished her wand at him.

"Switch!" Tufty announced, to everyone's relief.

"Don't you dare hex me," Rose muttered to Scorpius as they swapped places.

"That's kind of the point!" Scorp hissed back.

"Don't worry," Albus said to Lizzie, who was looking worried. "I'm rubbish at this." She didn't look convinced.

After a few minutes, Rose let out a shriek. Albus looked, just in time to see her cast a flickering shield charm that only just failed to stop Scorpius' hex. It hit her in the shoulder, nearly all its power sucked out by the shield. "Ow!" she cried.

"Very good, Mr Malfoy," Tufty said wearily. "Miss Weasley, your shield charm will have to be a bit more solid to deflect any real attack."

Albus knew his cousin well enough to read the expression of fury she wore behind the facade of forced calmness. When the class finally ended, they left the room with a great deal of tension. "I can't believe you're angry!" Scorpius was protesting. "I just did what we were meant to do - it can't have hurt that much. Anyway it made you do a shield charm, right?"

"You're making it worse," Lizzie hissed to him.

"But -"

"Just leave me alone," Rose snapped. She stormed off to Ancient Runes while Scorp threw up his hands in frustration.

"What's the problem?" he demanded. "You guys wouldn't care if I accidentally hexed you, right?"

"I wouldn't, but… she's a girl," Al pointed out.

"What was I meant to do?" Scorp said helplessly. "Just not do the exercise?"

"Yes," Lizzie said firmly.

"What? Why? You were doing it."

Lizzie gave him a long-suffering look. "You two are so clueless," she sighed. "No, you weren't supposed to hex her. Honestly."

Scorp stared at her, then frowned at Albus, apparently looking for answers, but Al didn't get what she was hinting at, either. "I give up," Scorpius sighed. "I've got Muggle Studies - see you at lunch."

Lizzie and Albus had Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid was pleased to see them, as usual, and if he was disappointed that Rose had been unable to continue with his class, he didn't show it.

"'Ello Albus!" the old Professor called out as they approached. "'Ow was Italy?"

Albus grinned. Hagrid was one of the few people he didn't mind being singled out by. "Great," he replied. "How was your summer?"

"Ah, not too bad," the man smiled widely through his great bushy beard. "Me and Grawpy went exploring in the Highlands."

Everyone who did Care of Magical Creatures had met Grawp, Hagrid's half brother, at one time or another. For a gigantic, illiterate, half-dumb giant, he was very interesting to be around.

"So what was that about?" Al asked Lizzie, when they had each been given samples of different eggshells to identify and the class had begun chattering away to each other. "Why shouldn't Scorp have cursed Rose? It did help her do the shield charm without the incantation."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Boys! Are you blind? She likes him."

Albus frowned. "Come on."

"He likes her too, if he'd just admit it to himself." She flushed a little, a crack showing in her air of social superiority. "I… might have mentioned to Rose last week that Scorpius has a crush on her."

"You what?"

"Well I didn't realise they'd start biting each other's heads off! It should have been happily ever after. Why are Ravenclaws so stubborn?"

Albus groaned. "It's not Ravenclaws, it's Rose. She wouldn't admit to fancying anyone if you put her under torture." Certain things were starting to fall into place. Rose had been acting oddly since they had got back from Italy, and now he came to think about it, it might have started that night when they had met Scorpius at the Leaky Cauldron. She had got all shirty when Albus had brought up Stacey on the train, and she didn't like the way Scorp put himself down, even as a joke. Albus had to admit that someone probably shouldn't hex their girlfriend and expect to get away from it, even in class - but she wasn't his girlfriend, and that was why Rose couldn't say the real reason why she was so upset.

"Someone's got to tell him," he said flatly.

Lizzie shrugged. "Go on then! Rather you than me."

Albus immediately blanched from the humiliation he could imagine ensuing from that conversation. "Er… no thanks. They'll work it out." He realised he wasn't totally thrilled about the idea of his cousin and his best friend getting together, either. He had a terrible impending sense of third wheel syndrome.

~*-A-*~

Rose didn't speak to Scorpius at all for the rest of the week. Any hope of the situation working itself out was rapidly starting to fade, but luckily Al had less and less time to worry about it. This was because on top of all the homework that was already starting to pile up, most of which involving practicing non-verbal spells and charms, Albus had to think about trying out the new Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He had organised the tryouts for the next Saturday, directly after Gryffindor had had their tryouts.

James, now the Gryffindor team captain, waved at him cheerily as he passed. "Choose wisely, little brother! You're going to need some decent backup this season."

Albus considered making a rude hand gesture, but decided it was beneath him.

He watched as the Ravenclaw hopefuls lined up on the pitch. There were a lot more than there had been last year, or the year before. "Big turn out," he muttered as Rose came up behind her, wearing Quidditch robes and with her hair tied back into a loose braid.

"Not surprised," she said, tossing a Quaffle up and down in one hand.

"Why?"

"It's you, you ass. Remember when your dad told us he had about a hundred people show up for his first try out, and some of them weren't even Gryffindors? Everyone wants to see how you're going to coach the team. No pressure or anything." She grinned and tossed him the ball.

"Thanks," he muttered. "Right, any first years, you're forbidden by school policy to join the team, so scoot."

Lysander and Lycan skulked away from the group, looking disappointed.

Albus rolled his eyes. "Okay. Can we split into groups please?"

After about two hours of watching people fall off brooms, get hit in the face with Quaffles and injure themselves with their own Beater's bats, he had a team. One of the seventh years from the old team had chosen not to rejoin it, but Benjy, the Keeper, had got back in after a great trial. Rose had been by far the best Chaser out of all the applicants, but there were two fourth years, Emerson and Wendy, who had managed to score enough goals between them to join her. There was actually a lot of good competition for the Beater positions, but Albus ended up picking a third year, Thom, and Rose's dormitory-mate, Janey, who turned out to be a bit of a dab hand with a bat. He made sure to nominate plenty of reserves for all the positions. It meant more work for him in terms of coaching, but he had always thought it would be a good idea to have more so that they had someone to practice against.

Still, he waited until he and Rose had a bit of space on the way back to Ravenclaw Tower before asking. "So… did I pick right?"

She smiled at him. "You have to ask?"

"You know as much about Quidditch as I do. C'mon, I'm under a lot of pressure here…"

"You picked right. The only problem is going to be getting Janey to stop chatting long enough to get her in the air."

"You know, the girls are right, you really should try harder to make more friends."

"Shut up."

"Rosie?"

"Yeah?"

"How long are you going to keep giving Scorp the silent treatment?"

She stopped and gave him a cold look. "How do you know I - "

"Because I know you, and I know your evil methods of getting people to apologise to you." He sighed. "Look, why don't you just tell him you like him?"

Her eyes widened. "What? I don't -"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lizzie told me."

"She what? That girl is such a gossip - "

"Look, you're making him miserable for no reason. At least, no reason he understands. Either tell him, or stop treating him like he just killed a puppy."

She frowned, and then her face crumpled. "I can't tell him," she said softly.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because - because what if I do tell him? I'm afraid… I think he'll think it's stupid. I don't want things to be weird… it'll ruin our friendship..."

"Okay, but if you don't tell him, you're going to keep getting mad at him when he doesn't treat you the way you want him to treat you, and your friendship will be ruined anyway."

She put her hands over her face and took a deep breath. "Okay. Here's what we're going to do. I will apologise for blowing up over the whole Defence Against the Dark Arts thing, and we will start speaking to each other again. And you are not going to say anything about this to him, okay?"

"Hang on -"

"No. You say nothing. Got it?"

Albus rolled his eyes. Clearly he wasn't going to win. If a stalemate was all that was achieved for now, he would just have to deal with it. "Okay, okay. Let's go then."

They walked the last few stairs to Ravenclaw Tower. There weren't a great deal of people in the common room, it being a sunny Saturday and most people wanting to spend time outside before the weather became too cold. Scorpius was sitting by the window reading The Taming of the Shrew. "Oh… hey," he said when he noticed them approaching, eyeing Rose suspiciously as though afraid she was about to blow up at him.

"Hey," she said shyly as he stared up at her.

Al could not believe that he hadn't seen it before. Now that he knew, it was painfully obvious, from the way they looked at each other to the palpable tension in the air whenever they spoke. He felt like banging their heads together.

"I'm sorry," Rose said after a painfully long moment. "I shouldn't have shouted at you."

Scorpius relaxed noticeably. He closed his book, keeping his fingers between the pages as a temporary marker. "It's okay. I need to be shouted at occasionally. It tames my ego."

She smiled gratefully at him and Al had to suppress the urge to slap himself in the forehead in frustration.

"Oh just kiss and make up already," he muttered. Rose shot him a glare that, if looks could kill, would have had him prostrate on the ground with green foam bubbling out of his mouth. Scorpius had gone slightly red. He stood up and hugged her. It was incredibly awkward to watch, and Al was glad when it was over, even though Rose returned to glaring at him. He had a feeling he was going to get an earful the next time they were alone.

Chapter Text

2023

~*-A-*~

It was soon becoming apparent that, with the possible exception of Scorpius, non-verbal spells were a lot more difficult than any of them had realised, and it was required in nearly all of their classes. While Scorpius at least had the sense not to gloat about his comparative success, he was rather smug about the fact that he was forced to do less of them, as the whole point of Muggle Studies meant not having to do any magic at all.

"Bully for you," Al said as they walked outside to eat lunch after Charms. His head was pounding after yet another hour of straining to do a simple levitation spell without speaking. They flopped down under a tree near the lake and spread out the food they had filched from the Great Hall. From a distance they could see a Herbology class ending, the students dispersing in different directions. "What's the point, that's what I want to know."

"Well, what if one day you have to cast a spell without people knowing you've cast it?" Rose suggested.

"That sounds like something you would disapprove of."

"Not if you're an Auror, or a Cursebreaker, or something."

"But I don't want to do either of those things, so why should I have to do all the work?"

Rose sighed. "Stop complaining. We must be able to get the hang of it eventually, or people would be constantly failing Charms and Transfiguration NEWTs. Even my dad does some non-verbal spells, I've seen him, and he's always saying how terrible his marks were at school…"

"I think that's just to make you feel better about not getting an O in your History of Magic OWL."

"Hey, Lizzie!" Scorpius, apparently tired of this argument, was waving over the nearest of the emerging Herbology students. Lizzie came over to them, scowling. Her hair was coming loose from its customary braid and there was a long red scratch along her cheek, bleeding at one end and dangerously close to her eye.

"What happened!" Rose exclaimed, sufficiently distracted.

"Snargaluff Stump got me," Lizzie muttered. "My own stupid fault - oh no, is he coming over here? This is so embarrassing…"

The Ravenclaws looked over to see Professor Longbottom hurrying away from the Greenhouses in their direction. "Lizzie," he panted when he was close enough to be heard. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Professor," Lizzie insisted, rolling her eyes to the sky in a show of mortal humiliation.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, I know you didn't want me making a fuss in front of everyone -"

"You're making a fuss now!" she squealed, stamping her foot in what Albus couldn't help thinking was quite an adorable way. "There are people watching!"

Albus thought privately that this was a bit of an overreaction as they were surely the only ones within hearing distance. A couple of the other students from the class were standing over by the stairs, chatting and laughing with each other.

Neville looked a bit taken aback. He leaned closer to look at the scratch. "At least let me heal - "

"No! Please Dad, just leave me alone."

"I can do it, Professor," Albus offered.

Neville hesitated for a moment, then took one look at Lizzie's face and thought better of making any further argument. "Thank you, Mr Potter," he said, putting back on his professorial attitude. "Miss Longbottom, I'll… see you in class, on Wednesday." He turned away and walked back up to the castle, straight-backed and stiff.

Albus drew his wand and pointed it carefully at Lizzie's cheek. "Episky," he incanted gently, and the scratch closed and stopped bleeding. When she wiped her hand over it it was gone.

"That wasn't very nice," Rose said quietly.

"Well he's being ridiculous," Lizzie sighed. "He wouldn't fuss so much over anyone else, so he shouldn't over me. He's always going on about how he can't give me any special treatment, but the second I let a stupid piece of sapient wood get one over on me…"

"He's your dad," Al pointed out. "All dads go mad when their kids get hurt - you should have seen my dad when Lily fell off her broom a few years ago. It was scary."

"Your dad isn't your teacher," Lizzie muttered. "Look, I need to go to lunch, I'm hungry."

"Have lunch with us," Albus said quickly. Lizzie blinked in surprise. "There's plenty to go around," he added, only just now glancing at the others to make sure they were okay with it.

"Oh, but…"

"Yes, come on Lizzie," Rose said, and Scorpius nodded agreement.

They spent a pleasant lunchtime in the last of the autumn sun. Albus couldn't help thinking that he understood where Lizzie was coming from. They were getting to an age where it was important to be your own person, and it was hard to do that with parents looking over your shoulder every five minutes. It was true that he didn't have his dad around at school, but Lizzie probably didn't have to deal with people mobbing her dad every time he walked into a public place.

He hung back with her when they had finished, letting Scorp carry the basket for Rose up to the castle.

"Any progress with those two?" Lizzie asked him when the others were beyond hearing distance.

"Not yet," Albus muttered. "I'm sure they'll get around to it eventually."

She giggled. "So who are you cheering for at the next game?"

The match, the first of the season, was Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Albus grimaced, but answered honestly. "Slytherin."

"What?"

"C'mon, you know my brother. The more he wins the more unbearable he gets."

"I heard Gryffindor are the favourite this year, again."

"Yeah," Al muttered. It stung that Ravenclaw hadn't won the cup since he had joined the team as a full player, in his fourth year. Rose might have argued that the year he had come in at the end as reserve Seeker had counted, but he could only take credit for the last half an hour of that game. Liam had done the rest of the work.

"Ah well," Lizzie said, smiling. "I have complete faith in you as captain."

Al looked at her sidelong. "Shouldn't you be barracking for Hufflepuff?"

She put a finger to her lips conspiratorially. "Don't tell anyone. Go you eagles! Your mascot is the only one who can fly, right?"

He laughed. It felt like the first time he'd laughed properly since the madness of Quidditch and schoolwork had descended. It felt good.

They reached the castle in very little time at all. Rose and Scorpius were waiting for him by the stairs. "Well," Lizzie said, shrugging her bag onto her shoulder. "I have Potions. See you round?"

"Yeah." Al hesitated, on the verge of a decision. His palms were suddenly sweaty, and he wished he had some pockets to stuff his hands in. "Lizzie?" he called, just as she reached the door to the dungeons

She turned on her heel and looked at him expectantly. "Mm?"

He swallowed. "Er… do you, er… want to go to Hogsmeade with me, this weekend?"

She grinned. "Sure. Meet you here?"

"Er… yeah. Good. Cool."

"Okay." She beamed at him, flipped her braid over her shoulder and left the Entrance Hall through the narrow doorway.

Scorpius and Rose were both staring at him. "Er… what the hell just happened?" Scorpius asked, raising an eyebrow as Al approached them, his heart still beating a little quicker than usual.

Rose punched Scorp in the arm. She was doing that a lot, lately. "Be nice. I thought it was sweet."

"Oh, you thought it was sweet. So if he asks a girl it's okay, but if a girl asks him it's like what, blatant narcissistic celebritism?"

She hit him again, and he winced. "How long were you planning that?" she asked Albus, only a slight hint of suspicion in her tone.

"I wasn't! I mean, I just thought of it then."

"You better not break her heart," Scorpius said with mock concern. "That girl is like a sister to me - maybe I should tell Neville!"

"Please don't," Al sighed. "Not that I mind him knowing…." though secretly he wasn't entirely sure what the reaction would be, "but he'll tell Hannah who will most definitely tell my mother, and I would rather get the weekend over with before I have to face that particular humiliation."

"Boys," Rose muttered. "You talk about going on a date like you're being led to the gallows."

~*-A-*~

Albus surprised himself by really enjoying his Saturday afternoon at Hogsmeade. As much as he liked spending time with his fellow Ravenclaws, it was nice to get away for a while. It helped that he had known Lizzie forever, so it was hard to run out of things to talk about. They alternated between school anecdotes and reminiscing about their childhood. She remembered several incidents from when they were little that he had completely forgotten about.

At one point he had her almost in stitches with laughter with stories about the Lovegood twins and the antics they had been getting up to in Ravenclaw tower.

"No!" she gasped, theatrically, after he had regaled her with the thrilling tale of Ravenclaw versus the Lovegoods and the strange hissing creature they had let loose in the tower the previous evening.

"I swear, we still don't know what it was, but it was big and loud and invisible," Albus said in all sincerity. "There were girls jumping on tables, guys with their wands out, accidentally cursing each other… madness."

Lizzie giggled, imagining the scene. "Did anyone catch it?"

"It scuttled off somewhere, I think. Peter gave them a talking to, but I dunno if they listened. They're kind of a law unto themselves, if you know what I mean."

She made a face. "Ew, so it could still be in the castle somewhere? What if it gets into my dormitory?"

"You could call Hagrid. He'd love it, it's probably been a while since he was in a girl's dormitory." Albus grinned.

She burst out laughing. "You're terrible!"

He shrugged. "True, though."

It was about this point that Belinda and a couple of her other friends came into the Three Broomsticks. To his surprise, she did not immediately abandon him to talk to them, but pushed her empty Butterbeer glass to one side. "Finished?" she asked him.

"Er… yeah."

"Want to go outside for a bit?"

"Okay."

Belinda called her name and waved as they passed, but she merely waved back.

"You can go over there if you want," Albus assured her. "I don't mind."

She looked surprised that he would think she would want to. "I see those clowns every day," she said. "I'm here with you."

Oh yeah, he thought, his stomach twisting slightly with nerves. He had been enjoying himself so much that he had almost forgotten he was supposed to be on a date. He followed her out of the pub with his hands awkwardly in his pockets.

It was pleasantly warm outside still, the last days of summer trickling uncharacteristically late into October. They took off their cloaks and folded them over their arms. "So," Lizzie asked casually as they walked. "What made you ask me?"

He swallowed. "Um… I thought it would be fun?"

She cocked her head on one side as if only partially satisfied by this answer. "Oh?"

"Well… you make me laugh…. I make you laugh… you're… very pretty…" he tried, hoping he wasn't blushing all over the place.

She beamed at him. "Really?"

He smiled. "Well yeah, since you grew out of pigtails it's hard not to notice."

She slapped him good-naturedly on the arm. "Twit."

"Oh that's nice, and I was going to take you to Honeydukes."

"Aw." She pursed her lips and made puppy-dog eyes at him, and he burst out laughing.

All in all it was a fantastic afternoon. They went to the sweet shop and he bought her a big chocolate bar, which she shared with him as they wandered around the village. They avoided Weasley's Wizard Wheezes at Albus' insistence.

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, nodding firmly. "James and the twins are probably there."

"So?" she frowned at him. "You're not ashamed of me, are you?"

"What? No! It's just… well, I know I'll have to put up with teasing, eventually, but I'd rather you didn't have to deal with it, on the first… I mean, today. You might decide I'm not worth the hassle after all."

Her frown morphed into a grin. "So you're protecting me? How very Gryffindor of you."

"Hey, Ravenclaws can be chivalrous too, I'll have you know. Especially when their families are dicks."

She giggled and took his hand in hers, decisively. He took that to be a good sign.

They walked slowly back to the castle together, still chatting amiably and finishing off the chocolate one-handed. There were a few other students, in pairs or groups, making their way back, including Al's sister Lily and some friends. So much for temporary secrecy, Al thought, but Lily only waved and turned back to giggle with her friends. There were also some particularly annoying third year Slytherins who ran up behind couples and made kissy-kissy noises until Al wanted to hex them senseless.

Perhaps as a result of this, or maybe it would have happened anyway, when they got back to the Entrance Hall there was an awkward sort of pause. Albus wondered what she actually was expecting from him at this point. He had a feeling a handshake would not be appropriate, but he didn't want to do anything too forward. He kept remembering how upset Rose had been after her first Hogsmeade date.

This is a lot of bloody pressure, he thought to himself, as they made awkward small talk for about five minutes. How are you supposed to know what she wants you to do? Is there some kind of secret signal I'm not aware of?

In the end, she solved the problem for him. She put a hand lightly on his shoulder, reached up and kissed him briefly on the mouth. Her lips tasted like chocolate. "See you later?" she asked, as though she did this every day.

He stared unblinkingly at her for a moment. Snap out of it, Potter!

"Yeah," he said, finding his voice at last. "Definitely."

"Great." She turned and skipped off towards Hufflepuff - or at least, it seemed to him that's what she was doing. He felt a bit like skipping, himself.

~*-S-*~

Since Al was spending the day with Lizzie, Scorpius and Rose went to Hogsmeade together by unspoken agreement. It was mostly a business trip as Rose needed more school supplies, but once that was done, they wandered aimlessly around the village, enjoying the atmosphere. They watched some third years, ecstatic at their first Hogsmeade trip, unload an entire basket of Honeydukes sweets onto the floor and share them out before proceeding to stuff their faces.

"Oh, gross," Rose said, with amusement, wrinkling her nose.

"Making me hungry," Scorpius laughed. "Remember our first Hogsmeade trip?"

"I remember you nearly wetting yourself over Honeydukes, yes."

"Hey! It's all right for you, I bet you had loads of chocolate growing up. it was like heaven for me, suddenly having as much as I could… well, as much as you two would buy and share with me, for which I will definitely repay you one of these days."

Rose grinned. "Come on, let's go to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

He hesitated a moment before hurrying after her. He hadn't forgotten the cold reception her uncle George had given him at the post-memorial breakfast last year. Still, he had been in the shop a few times before and never come across the man. He did after all have another shop at Diagon Alley, so perhaps he wouldn't even be there.

They walked into the joke shop, which as usual was full to bursting with Hogwarts students. Rose led him over to where Fred and Roxie were demonstrating the use of some mini firebangers, tiny little fireworks that wouldn't go any higher than your head. "Hi guys," Rose said breathlessly as they finally managed to get through the crowd. "Where's James?"

"Gone off with his girlfriend," Fred sighed dramatically. "Where's Al?"

"Ditto," Scorpius grinned, and both twins laughed.

"Good for him," said Roxie. She was pulling another firebanger out of a bucket of samples.

"This is madness," Rose said, standing on a crate to observe the crowd better. It was indeed busier than they had ever seen it.

"I know, right," Roxie smiled. "Lucky for me and Fred, we stand to inherit this mess." She tossed a firebanger in the air and it went off with a pop and a flash of multi-coloured light, to the great appreciation of the assembly.

"Here, Scorp, you'll like this one," said Fred, handing him a blue firebanger. Scorpius looked at it dubiously. James and the twins had been friendly to him ever since the incident with the fifth-year Gryffindors after the Recent History class last year, but he knew it was foolish to consider himself above their 'little jokes'.

"Go on, let it off," Fred prompted him. "Ravenclaws. Have a little adventure, why don't you?"

Scorpius shrugged and tossed the little canister into the air, copying the flicking motion Roxie had used. To his surprise, it didn't go off straight away, but started to do an elaborate dance in the air, emitting a tuneful whistle.

Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my daaarling Clementine…

"Cool," Scorp grinned. "Got any more?"

"Heaps," Fred said, handing him another.

"They're two Sickles each."

They looked around to see Fred and Roxie's father, George Weasley, standing behind them wearing an extravagant robe with WWW embroidered on the breast. His expression was less than disapproving, and Scorpius' heart sank. "Free samples for family only, Fred, you know that," he said, avoiding Scorpius' eyes.

Fred looked confused. "But Dad…"

"It's okay," Scorpius said quickly. "I'm sorry Mr Weasley, I can pay…"

Belatedly he realised he had spent his last Galleon on a book on enchanted instruments by owl order. He handed the firebanger back to Fred quickly.

"Dad, Scorp's a friend," Roxie was saying.

"Rose," George said, ignoring his daughter. "May I speak to you alone for a moment?"

"I'll just…" Scorpius said awkwardly, backing away.

"You don't have to go - " Rose started.

"It's okay, I'll er… meet you outside." He hurried away, feeling Mr Weasley's angry gaze on him all the way to the exit. "Hell," he muttered to himself. He knew it had been a mistake to go into that shop in the first place. Still, it was a shame. He would have liked to find out how they got the music into the firebangers. Maybe Fred or Roxie would know.

Rose came out a few minutes later, the tell-tale tinge of red in her cheeks that meant she was angry. "Er… what did he want to -" Scorpius tried.

"Nothing," Rose said shortly. "Nothing at all. Let's go. I'm not in the mood for jokes anymore."

They walked in silence back up the hill towards the path that led out of Hogsmeade. Rose was clearly fuming, and Scorpius didn't want to poke the proverbial bear. Still, he had a feeling he knew what the problem was.

"You can tell me," he said after a while. "I won't be offended."

She looked up at him with angry tears brimming in her eyes. "It's not fair."

He shrugged. "I figured that. People are rarely fair. Let me guess, you're not allowed to play with me anymore?"

She stopped dead. "Don't. Don't make fun."

"It was that, though, wasn't it?"

She looked down. "He said… he said I should be more careful… that some things are built in, and… but it's just stupid!" she exclaimed. "I know you're not like… why can't people just mind their own business?"

He laughed, despite the awkwardness of the situation. "Because they're people," he said. "Look, I want your family to like me as much as you do…" probably more, he added to himself. "But after this summer…"

"What? You're just going to accept that some people treat you like dirt for no reason?" She paused, and ran a hand through her hair, which was starting to tangle in the wind. "I know his twin died, in the war, and it's hard… but that doesn't mean… it's just not fair, that's all."

He frowned at her. "Why are you getting so upset? You've always known people felt this way about me, and me coming to Hogwarts. I should be the one getting upset."

She opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it. "Oh… never mind," she sighed, as though he was being an idiot not to read the thoughts that lurked in the deepest part of her mind.

He gave up. "Well… hurry up then," he said. "I've got a meeting with Professor Flitwick."

~*-A-*~

If anyone noticed that he looked or felt any different when he got back from Hogsmeade, they didn't say anything. To Albus this seemed like a disappointing anticlimax. His whole world seemed to have turned slightly on an angle, so that it all seemed much brighter and more exciting than before. There was a girl out there who wanted to kiss him. Possibly they would kiss more, later. There could be an infinite amount of kissing in his future.

He lay back on his bed and stared dreamily up at the ceiling. At some point he was vaguely aware of Scorpius coming in and changing out of his school robes into the Muggle clothes he had worn over summer. He shook himself out of his stupor and looked up at his friend. He found he was disappointed by the lack of questions about his afternoon, and realised he was desperate to show off. He couldn't exactly just blurt it out, though.

"How was your day?" he asked innocently.

Scorpius glanced at him, surprised. "Oh, hey," he said. "Didn't see you there."

Albus wasn't buying that for a minute. "You all right?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Your cousin's just crazy as a Niffler in Gringotts, that's all. How was your date?"

Finally. "Great," Albus said, grinning conspiratorially.

"Good," Scorp said, and started packing his guitar.

"Hang on, where are you going?" Al asked.

"Flitwick's office. He said he'd look at my strings. You… want to come, or something?"

"No," Al said, rolling his eyes. "Bugger off then."

Scorpius frowned and shook his head. "Bloody Weasleys today, seriously," he muttered, and took off with his bag and the guitar case.

Al laid back on the bed and made a face. Did no one care that he had just kissed the fittest Hufflepuff in the year? In his mind it had already evolved from a peck on the lips to a full make-out session. It felt like people should be paying more notice rather than thinking about themselves all the time.

In the end he sat up and put his shoes back on. He would go find Lizzie now, he decided. Later could be now. At least she would care enough to talk to him. Or they could just kiss some more.

Chapter Text

2023

~*-A-*~

Albus paced in front of the Ravenclaw team, twisting his broom in his hands. It was a new broom, a present from his parents, the newprototype Phoenixer. It had arrived with Womy on the morning of his seventeenth birthday, which had given him five days to practice flying it. It went like anything.

Wendy, Rose's fellow Chaser, had had one go on it and nearly thrown up her lunch. Thom, the third year Beater, had fallen off, two feet off the ground, though he was usually a good flyer. It was a mad little thing, and Al loved it. It did crazy things in the air that he still didn't expect after days of flying on it. Still, if his mum and dad had hoped it would do anything positive for his nerves in his first Quidditch game as captain, they were wrong.

"It's just Hufflepuff, guys," he said, realising this was a bit of a lame start to a pep talk. "Their Beaters are useless, the Chasers are all right but don't even get me started on the huge dude they've got in Keeper…"

"Maxie," Janey giggled, from where she was putting a final polish on her Beater's bat. "He's not as big as Warren, in Gryffindor."

"Bigness aside," Benjy muttered, his pride as rival Keeper looming its head. "He can't catch to save his life. If he stops any balls it'll be because they bounce accidentally off his tree trunk arms -"

"Right, which is why we're basically a shoe-in," Albus said, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Just try and score as much as possible so we've got a head start for the rest of the season. "Gryffindor's already about a hundred points ahead," he added ruefully. "Since they smashed Slytherin the other week. I know we're basically a new team and we've been working on a lot of new stuff, but just keep it simple, everyone. I'll have a good view, so listen out for me."

"You just concentrate on the Snitch," Rose said, standing up and shaking out her Qudiditch robes before putting her hand in. "We've got this."

Albus felt she had rather stolen his thunder with that, but he put his hand in with the rest of the team, and the volume of the seven of them shouting "GO EAGLES!" must have been heard out on the pitch, because a roar of applause followed.

"Let's go then," he said, swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat. They walked out to a standing ovation from the Ravenclaw stands.

"Smash it out!"

"Woop woop!"

"C'mooon you Eagles!"

"Go Potter!"

"And a relatively new side from Ravenclaw this year after the appointment of a new captain, Seeker Albus Potter," came the announcement over the loudspeaker. They had let Albus' cousin Louis do the commentary this year, which he couldn't argue with, the lad was the most well-spoken of his peers, even if he was only a fourth-year, and as Quidditch-mad as the rest even if he didn't play quite so much. He was a fastidious boy in many ways, and the mud and potential for injury that went with the game seemed to put him off flying competitively.

"Interesting choice from Potter, giving bats to a sixth year girl and a third year boy. Beaters have to work as a close team, so we'll see how that works out…"

No need to go easy on me, cuz, Albus thought as he shook hands with the seventh-year girl who was the captain of the Hufflepuff team.

"Potter and Reed shake hands and there's the whistle!"

Albus shot immediately as high as he could comfortably go to see the pitch. He needn't have worried. Rose scored three goals in the space of three minutes. Emerson scored the next one, but Rose the next two.

Al grinned and shook his head. Sometimes he forgot, when she was nagging him about practicing with non-verbal spells, how bloody good she was at Quidditch.

He was shaken out of this thought as a Bludger very nearly impacted with his head. He shot out of the way and darted away from the Hufflepuff Beater, who evidently was not as bad at his job as Albus had given him credit for.

"Potter moving like lightning there on the new Phoenixer - not yet available in stores! You'd have to be nuts to ride that broom, so it's a good thing Potter is!"

Albus rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure whether it was his mother or father's connections that had got them a prototype broom, and he hadn't asked. Still, it was a brilliant broom, and he wasn't going to just not use it.

He clung to the broom with his knees and flipped it, his heart jumping momentarily into his throat as it did a crazy little side-swipe and he ended up below and behind the pesky Hufflepuff Beater. There was a gasp of appreciation from the crowd.

"Potter dodges a second Bludger there with a fancy move - Hufflepuff with the Quaffle for the first time in the game! Reed heading towards goal - the Ravenclaw Keeper is distracted by a Bludger - Hufflepuff score!"

The yellow and black quarter of the crowd roared with appreciation. Unable to stop himself, Al searched the stands quickly with his eyes to see Lizzie clapping politely next to Belinda. She had to sit in the Hufflepuff stands, of course, but he knew she was there for him.

"I'll wear blue underwear," she had said, making him blush. "Just don't get yourself killed. I'll allow some slight maiming…"

"How slight?" he had asked, making a face.

"Anything below the neck but above the waist," she had replied, making him blush even more. Luckily there was no one listening - as an inter-house couple they had taken to claiming common areas like the library to spend time together. Rose and Scorpius were doing homework on a nearby table, but they were too busy avoiding each other's eyes to listen to anyone else's conversation. Honestly, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. If this madness went past Christmas, Albus had a good mind to just knock their heads together, lips first.

"So you'd be fine if I lost both my arms? How would I do this then?" He had reached over the table and pulled her gently towards him for a kiss. They only stopped when the old librarian coughed disapprovingly. Lizzie giggled.

He was brought back to the game as the crowd cheered again - this time for Ravenclaw, as Wendy had scored her first goal. Disappointed that he had missed it, but still not quite able to shake off the daydream, Al turned his broom upwards and returned to surveying the pitch for the Snitch. The Phoenixer zoomed upwards faster than he was expecting, and he almost went flying off the end of it.

"Behave," he muttered to it, as though it were a naughty puppy.

As he leant into the half-turn, a flash of gold caught his eye. It was hovering quite high up, not quite still but doing a little dance in the air. He hesitated. Catching it now must be some kind of record, they'd only been playing for about five minutes. And they would win the game, but they were doing so well that they might as well keep going and get a better score. So what, should he just ignore it? That seemed to go against all his instincts as a Seeker.

He could see the Hufflepuff Seeker, a girl called Quark, or Quirk, or something, on the other side of the pitch. The Snitch was behind her, but all she had to do was turn around and she would see it.

He patted his broom gingerly. "Please don't kill me," he said to it, and went into a dive. He hadn't planned on going very far, just far enough to distract Hufflepuff while the Snitch had time to get away. But the broom seemed to enjoying hurtling towards the ground at a hundred miles an hour. By the time he was able to pull up, he was dangerously close to the Ravenclaw goal posts, and the Pheonixer still refused to stop. He grit his teeth and grabbed the bottom of the far right hoop, hanging nearly horizontal in the air as the broom tried to fly off without him. Eventually it seemed to realise it was time to slow down, and he was able to grab the handle again.

"Penalty to Hufflepuff!" Louis shouted over the crowd's laughter. "Potter's touched the goal posts - to be fair, it probably just saved his life - someone better write to the makers of that broom and warn them of the incoming law suit!"

"Sorry!" Albus called to Benjy, who now had to defend against a clear shot from Hufflepuff.

"No problem!" the older boy called back, flexing his hands inside his gloves. "Just don't let that thing throw you off - we've only got one captain!"

Reed took her shot, but this time Benjy saved the goal, and the Ravenclaw stands went wild.

"Well it looks like Potter's stunt didn't lose Ravenclaw any points, and they still lead sixty-ten! Ravenclaw still well in the lead, not bad for an almost totally new team, so perhaps Potter's not quite as mad as we gave him credit for…"

Albus made a mental note to pay his cousin back for all this not-so-subtle jibes, but there was no time to consider his revenge just now. He gripped his broom firmly and flew back up to his surveillance point. The Hufflepuff Seeker had narrowly missed the ground, having followed him almost through the whole dive. She glared at him as she passed and he waved an apology. He hadn't actually been trying to kill anyone.

The Snitch seemed to disappear permanently after that. Al had planned on letting the game go for at least an hour, provided Ravenclaw kept up their lead. By the time three and a half hours had passed, the score was 340 to 120. On the one hand, catching the Snitch now would give them over four hundred points, making it difficult for even Gryffindor to catch up, but on the other hand, it was starting to get dark. When Thom accidentally swung his bat at Wendy's head, thinking she was a Bludger, Al had had enough. "Time out!" he yelled to the referee, making a T motion with his hands.

"What on earth are you doing up there?" Rose demanded when they had all landed, breathing hard. "Just catch the damn thing already."

"Thank you, I hadn't considered that," Al sighed. "I'm looking for it, all right? It's buggered off somewhere. Quirk can't see it either."

"Even if she does, we'd still win," Thom yawned.

"Look, this is nothing," Al told them. "The longest Quidditch game ever went on for days, right?"

They all groaned.

"I'm not saying I want that to happen," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm starting to get blisters," Janey complained, rubbing her hands where the Beater's bat and her broom handle were pinching the skin through her gloves.

"I am not forfeiting," Al said sternly. "Not when we've got a two hundred and twenty point lead. Neither will Hufflepuff, I expect. Look, they're turning the lights on."

Big magical lamps were being lit around the pitch. It was hard to light a sports field that was so three-dimensional, without blinding the spectators, so it was a bit spotty, but at least there was light.

"Right. Beaters, try not to hit any of us, or each other, or any Hufflepuffs unless absolutely necessary," Al said quickly, seeing the referee waving them back onto their brooms. "Emmerson, Wendy, keep doing what you're doing. Rose, you're going to help me look for the Snitch."

"What?" She frowned at him.

"We've got enough points," Al told her. "I have to catch it, but there's no rule that says you can't help me look. Two sets of eyes are better than one. You want this to end, right?"

She still looked hesitant, but he knew her arms and legs were just as tired and achey as his were - more, because she had to cling to the broom with her knees when she had the Quaffle. "Oh fine," she said, mounting her broom. "But if the ref calls it, I'm blaming you."

The referee did not call it. There was no rule against other players joining the search for the Snitch. The Hufflepuff stands were not impressed, however, and a murmur of disapproval echoed towards them as soon as it became clear what they were doing. A hasty discussion between the Hufflepuff captain and Seeker led to all three Chasers trying to play the Quaffle and look for the Snitch, with the result that Emmerson and Wendy scored another four points in a row between them with hardly any opposition, bringing the Ravenclaw lead to 250 points.

Albus and Rose were hardly paying any attention to this, however. They took opposite ends of the pitch and started a methodical sweep, flying in grids towards each other. They had almost met in the middle, and Al was starting to wonder if this plan had not been the best after all, when Rose, over by the spectator stands, whistled loudly and waved to him. Instantly he kicked the Phoenixer into full speed and followed her pointing finger to the very top of the Ravenclaw stands, where the Snitch hovered, tiny and golden, above the top row of seats. The Hufflepuff Seeker had seen it too, at Rose's whistle, but she was miles away.

It was so easy, Al thought, even as he plucked the tiny golden ball out of the air and landed with relief in the stands, the first years who had been sitting there scrambling to get out of his way.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the end of the game, the score is five hundred to Ravenclaw, one twenty to Hufflepuff, and I think, correct me if I'm wrong, that has to be the most points scored by any team in a Hogwarts game! Five hundred points to Ravenclaw! Potter may use some strange tactics and fly a crazy broom, but he must be doing something right!"

Albus only just heard this over the roaring of the crowd around him. The Ravenclaws were cheering and jumping up and down, making the stands tremble. He grinned and kicked off the stands to fly back down to the pitch, where the rest of the team was waiting for him. They all descended on him as soon as he landed, pounding him on the back. Rose pushed through them to give her cousin a hug, and he laughed. "Couldn't have done that without you, you know," he said. "Maybe you should be Seeker from now on."

"No fear," she said, making a face. And then the team parted, and Lizzie was running towards him across the pitch. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him enthusiastically.

"That was amazing," she said, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from those watching them, which was almost the entire school, though the stands were already emptying as people wanted their dinner. "Amazing."

"Oh get a room," he heard Rose sigh as Lizzie kissed him again.

Al could see the teachers start to emerge from their stand. Professor Longbottom was looking over at them with great interest. Luckily more Ravenclaws were beginning to surround them with congratulations and plans for the biggest celebratory party ever to be held in Ravenclaw tower, and they were quickly blocked from view.

~*-S-*~

When given the opportunity, Scorpius had learned, Ravenclaws could party with the best of them. He had done his bit by using his House Elf connections to supply them with more food than a herd of elephants could likely have eaten. And he had helped enchant the volume of the wizarding wireless in the corner to what some might have called a slightly ridiculous level, but people seemed to be enjoying it, anyway. Al, Rose and the other Ravenclaw players were the heroes of the hour, Al especially, for captaining the team to the greatest victory in Ravenclaw Quidditch history.

"That'll give Gryffindor something to think about," Scorpius said to his friend, when the crowd around him had thinned out just enough for them to have a brief conversation. Albus grinned. Scorpius couldn't help but feel a little pang of jealousy as he was forced to the back of the crowd again. Al really did seem to have it all at the moment. Perfect family, Quidditch captain, hero of Ravenclaw, and a girlfriend. Lizzie hadn't let go of his hand the whole evening, or so it seemed. Belinda had also been invited to the party, despite being a Hufflepuff - and a Hufflepuff Prefect, to boot - and she seemed to be hitting it off with Peter, the Ravenclaw fifth year Prefect. They were certainly sitting very close together.

"Ew, gross." Scorpius turned to see the Scamander boys pointing at Al and Lizzie, who were snogging again.

"Isn't it about bedtime for you boys?" Scorpius said pointedly.

"We don't have a bedtime," Lorcan (or was it Lysander? Scorpius still couldn't tell them apart) said quickly. "You're not my dad."

"Thank Merlin," Scorpius muttered. "Go on, Lucy and all the other first years went up half an hour ago. You need your sleep if you're to continue terrorising the student body with your menagerie."

"We don't have a menagerie," said probably-Lysander.

"Yet," said probably-Lorcan, with a cheeky grin.

Scorpius sighed. Go to bed," he said firmly. "Before I find all your little pets and report them to Professor Flitwick, right?"

Lysander's eyes widened. "You wouldn't!"

"I might, so bugger off."

The dark-haired twins grumbled to one another before grudgingly making their way up the stairs towards their dormitory.

Rose appeared suddenly at his elbow. It was weird, he kept forgetting he was taller than her now. "That was nicely done," she said.

"I'm glad you approve."

"You'd have made a good Prefect, you know."

He snorted with laughter. "Uh-huh, that would gone well. Too much responsibility, if you ask me."

Rose gave him a look that suggested he could probably do with a little responsibility. "Noisy in here, isn't it," she said after a moment. It was true that they almost had to shout to be heard over the music. It was lucky that Ravenclaw tower was so far away from the rest of the castle, or they would almost certainly have been told to shut the party down, by now.

"Sorry," he said. "I might have overdone the volume charm. I'm used to doing them on myself, so…"

"I wasn't blaming you. Want to go outside for a bit?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "After hours? Daring."

"We won't go far, just so I can hear myself think. Up on the roof, maybe. Coming?"

He shrugged. He didn't have any particular desire to continue watching Al and Lizzie's dance of the adolescent tongues, either.

They slipped out of the door, careful not to disturb the enchanted knocker, and went up to the roof. There was some fairly advanced magic on the trap door, to stop students going up there and falling off - or jumping off, it had to be said - but they had started doing advanced security spells in Charms, and Rose was able to unlock it fairly easily.

Ravenclaw tower was not as high as the Astronomy tower, but there was still a wonderful view of the stars from up here. Being November and almost midnight, it was very chilly out in the open air. Luckily Scorpius had brought his cloak, having not had a chance to change since the match, and he pulled it off and gave it to Rose to wear over her Quidditch robes.

"Are you sure?" she asked, giving him an odd look.

"What d'you mean?"

She didn't answer him, but took the cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. She went to the parapet and folded her arms on it, leaning out to look over the grounds. It was a very clear night. Moonlight sparkled on the lake, and in the distance they could see a flicker of orange light from Hagrid's hut.

"It was a good game," Scorpius said, coming to lean on the merlon beside her. "You were great. Keep it up and you've basically got the cup in the bag."

"Mmhmm."

"People will be talking about that one for ages. Just so long as the next one doesn't go on quite so long - my backside was getting seriously numb from those seats."

"Scorp…" Rose pulled the cloak a little tighter around her. Her long red hair fell in tumbling waves over her face, still ruffled and frizzy from flying. "I don't want to talk about Quidditch right now."

"Oh." Scorpius shrugged. "What do you want to talk about, then?"

There was a long pause. "Al and Lizzie," she said eventually. "They're so… happy."

"I know, it's annoying, right?" Scorpius said with relief, glad he wasn't the only one.

"What? Well... yes, it is a bit, but that's not what I meant."

"Rosie," Scorpius sighed. "You know I love you, but you're not making a great deal of sense right now. Can't you just say what you mean?"

She looked up at him, with wide, surprised eyes. "What did you say?"

"I said you're not making sense," he said, very slowly in case she had missed it.

"No, before that."

He flushed. "I said - well, you know what I - I meant - as I friend, I just - sorry."

"Don't be sorry." She was still staring at him.

"I didn't mean - I'm not trying to - it just came out!" he said miserably. "I would never - "

"Why never?" she said quickly, challenging, turning away from the battlement to face him. "Why would you never? What's stopping you?"

He stared at her, flabbergasted. "Because… you're… my friend," he said lamely. "Al's cousin…"

"So? You're not my cousin."

"Yeah, but Al…"

"Oh, forget about Al for a minute! Do you love me or don't you?"

"Rosie!"

"What?"

Scorpius did not understand what was happening. The idea of being with her… like that… was a strange, foreign concept, only because since he was eleven she had been like his family. Better than his own family, certainly.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked eventually. He was starting to get a headache.

"Because, you git, because…. because…" she seemed at a loss for words, all of a sudden. "Because you're the only one who doesn't seem to think… because Lizzie said you talk about me all the time, because… look, everyone thinks we're a couple! But you're the only one who doesn't seem to realise!"

"But we're not a couple!" he protested. He didn't think he deserved to be yelled at.

"But you treat me like your girlfriend!" she burst out. "You pull out chairs for me, you're always carrying my things, you gave me your cloak…" she stroked it for a moment before sticking her hands under her arms against the cold. "And you just said," she added triumphantly. "You love me."

"Yes, but…" Scorpius blinked. He did do all those things, it was true. But only because he was trying to be a gentleman. And maybe he had talked about her a lot over the summer, but only because he was excited to see her again. Only because. Or was it, only because? The more he looked at her, brown eyes shining in the moonlight, he wanted to say yes. Yes, I love you. I've loved you since you rescued me from rogue Gryffindors when I was eleven. Since you made friends with me when no one else would. And I know you talked Al into it, too, though he'd never admit it. Without you I wouldn't have had any fun. I wouldn't have the Longbottoms. I wouldn't have music.

"But Rose… we can't. I can't."

"Why?"

He flinched. "You know why."

Her expression hardened. "Scorp, I don't care about Uncle George. I don't care what people think about you."

"What about your father?" he shot back. "What about… Rose, what about my father? You don't know him, you don't know what he'ddo…"

"I thought you didn't care about him either!" she flared. "You've lied about your NEWTs, about where you spent last summer, about wanting to play music when you leave Hogwarts, and this you don't want to lie to him about?"

"If he found out - and he would eventually - he'd disown me," Scorpius said flatly. "That would be it. No house, no money, no family, not even a last name..."

"Then let him!" Rose tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "You don't need him, Scorp!"

"You don't know what you're asking me!" Scorpius exclaimed. "How would you feel if I asked you to leave your family, to never see them again?"

"It's not the same -"

"Why not?" he demanded. "Because your family are good people? Because your father is better than mine? Do I not deserve to have a family?"

There were tears sparkling in her eyes now, tears of anger and disappointment. "You deserve to be happy," she said.

"I was," he snapped, and then instantly regretted it. She turned away from him, and he knew she was crying.

"I'm sorry," she said, low. "I won't bring it up again." She pulled off his cloak and tossed it back to him without looking, so that it fell unceremoniously on the stone floor of the tower. "You can have this back," she said, and went back to the trapdoor. She was through it, and down the ladder, before he could even think to call her back again.

Chapter Text

~*-S-*~

Al did not sleep in the dormitory that night, so Scorpius did not have a chance to ask him what he wanted to ask. He was very slow to get up the next day, staring miserably at his own reflection in the mirror. He had hardly slept at all. He was torn between anger at Rose for what she had said, and anger at himself for not doing something about it earlier. He should have noticed how she felt, and now that he thought about it - and he found it very hard to think about anything else, now - certain things made a lot more sense. Why she had been so upset in their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class, for example. You didn't hex people you fancied, even if a teacher told you to.

Eventually he gave up looking in the mirror. It was not giving him any answers, and he had to find Albus. Luckily it was a Sunday, so he had plenty of time, but somehow he had to do it without running into Rose, either.

It wasn't hard. Al and Lizzie were still tangled up on the sofa in the common room - fully dressed, thankfully, though Al's glasses were folded on the coffee table - and he was stroking her hair. Suddenly Scorpius felt a maddening urge to slap both their silly lovesick faces.

"How many Prefects know that you two never went to bed last night?" he demanded.

Al groaned. "Oh shut up," he said. "Peter won't mind."

"What about the Hufflepuff Prefects? Liz, you were out of your House all night. What if your dad finds out?"

"You're very grumpy this morning," Lizzie said, unconcerned. She sat up and stretched, straightening her clothes - much to Albus' obvious disappointment. "Bel knows where I was, she'll cover for me. What's got your knickers in a twist?"

He glared at her, and she returned his look with an annoyingly calm expression. It was too calm for him to handle, so he turned on Albus instead. "Tell me something," he said shortly. "Did you think I was in love with Rose?"

"Yes," said Albus andLizzie in unison.

"Seriously?" he said incredulously.

"Mate, everyone knows," Al said, shaking his head. "If you want to keep that stuff a secret, don't wear that puppy dog look on your face every time you look at her."

"I do not -" he began, then shook his head, as that was not the point. "What did you say to her?"

"What did you say to her?" Lizzie asked, frowning. "Did something happen?"

"Don't get me started on you," Scorpius said, rounding on her. "What do you mean by telling her I did nothing but talk about her all summer?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, you did, you ass."

"Lizzie, what did you say to her?"

"I told her you were in love with her."

Scorpius clenched his fists, wondering vaguely if the ability to kill was genetic. If so, he might be really good at it. "Why?"

"Because you are, mate," Al said. "It's really painfully obvious, to everyone except you, apparently."

"She's in love with you too," Lizzie said helpfully.

"I know," Scorp said flatly. "She told me." Where had this word love come from anyway? No one accused Albus and Lizzie of being in love. They were just… going out. It all had to be so bloody complicated.

"You don't seem very pleased," Lizzie said.

"Because I'm not -" he hesitated.

"See," Lizzie said triumphantly. "You can't say you're not in love with her."

"That's not the point," Scorpius said angrily.

Lizzie sighed and folded her arms. "What did you do, then?" she asked.

"Told her it couldn't happen."

"What?" Albus sat up and jammed his glasses onto his nose. His hair looked really ridiculous after a night on the sofa, if Scorpius had been in the mood to laugh.

"Well it can't!" Scorp hissed. "It's not about how I feel, that doesn't matter, the point is… it just can't happen. It's all right for you two, no one cares who you… go out with, you can do whatever the hell you want -"

"So can you!" Albus protested. "You always have before!"

"With… within limits," Scorpius tried to explain. He had the feeling the argument was unravelling away from him.

Albus stood up, his face dark with anger. "What are you saying here?" he demanded. "She's not good enough for you?"

Scorpius stared at him. "No, no, of course not… I mean, of course she is - but my father - "

"Oh, your father wouldn't approve? Like he wouldn't approve of your doing Muggle Studies? You do that all right!"

"I know but - Al, listen - he would -"

"Because she's a half blood?"

"Yes - I mean, no! That's part of it, but - "

"I didn't think you cared about any of that."

"I don't! You know I don't!"

"Clearly you do, or we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Scorpius closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was too early and he had not slept well, his brain felt like it was wrapped in cotton wool.

"The two of you have been dancing around each other for months," Lizzie said. "She obviously has feelings for you, and she knows you do too -"

"Only because you told her!" Scorpius snapped.

"All right fine, I'm sorry, but the point is, you shouldn't have just shot her down like that. Was she upset?"

"Well, yes…"

"Nice," Albus growled.

"Well, she started it - she as good as said I shouldn't bother trying to keep my family, that they weren't worth the trouble!"

"Rose cares about you way more than anyone in your family," Albus said viciously. "Your dad didn't seem to care at all about sending you to stay with your mad grandparents, and your mum - "

Scorpius had had just about enough. "You say one more single word about my mother, Potter," he growled. "And I will hex your knees off."

"Go for it, Malfoy," Al snapped back, and Scorpius flinched.

"Don't do that," he muttered.

"Oh, so now Malfoy is an insult? Make up your damn mind! It's us or them, Scorp, you've always known that, maybe it's time you picked a bloody side!"

"Al," Lizzie said warningly, perhaps sensing that somewhere a line had been crossed.

"Don't bother," Scorpius muttered. "I'm leaving." He turned his back on them and stalked out of the common room, slamming the door behind him.

~*-R-*~

Albus, Lizzie and Belinda found Rose in the Great Hall. She had got up early, showered and brushed her hair and put on clean robes. Right, she told herself firmly. You are not going to let it get to you. You are going about your day as normal. No one has to know what a complete idiot you made of yourself last night.

Not entirely true, she had to admit. One other person at least, would know.

It seemed that this was optimistic, however. From the sympathetic look on Lizzie's face as they sat down, and the sullen one on Albus', it was clear they already knew more than she would have liked.

"Hey Rosie…" Lizzie began.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said shortly.

"Look, Scorp told us what happened…"

"Oh, that was nice of him."

"But we just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Why shouldn't I be all right?" Rose drew herself up. "I'm fine. I'm great. Now I can move on with my life instead of moping over a stupid schoolgirl crush."

Lizzie and Belinda looked at each other with knowing cynicism. "He was very upset about it," Lizzie said eventually.

"Was he? That's a shame." Rose tossed her hair and stabbed a fork into her bacon and eggs.

"If it helps," Albus said with a dark edge to his voice. "I don't think he and I are speaking anymore, either."

She glanced at him in surprise. The boys were nearly always on each other's side. It softened her heart a little to think that Al would have stood up for her.

"You can have him now, if you want," she said offhandedly to Belinda.

Belinda laughed awkwardly. "Er… no thanks. If he doesn't want you I seriously doubt he'd go out with a Muggleborn."

"Bel," Lizzie said warningly.

"What? You said that was the reason."

"I think it's more than that, and anyway, he doesn't actually care…"

"Doesn't he though?" Albus cut in. "You know, maybe Uncle George is right. Maybe some things really are just built in."

~*-R-*~

At least, Rose thought, there was only a few weeks until the Christmas holidays. She could go home and not have to worry about avoiding Scorpius all the time. It was odd to sit on opposite sides of the classroom, and on other ends of the table in the Great Hall during meals. While she thought she might have forgiven him enough to sit with him, at least, clearly whatever had passed between him and Albus was not going to be healed quite so easily.

She felt terrible now for what she had said about Scorpius' father. It wasn't fair of her to assume that he would just drop his family in her favour. She couldn't imagine doing anything like that to her mother and father, no matter how much she fancied a boy - any boy. On the other hand, she had really thought he might have taken the risk. He had, after all, done it before when it came to school subjects, or spending Christmases and his summer with the Longbottoms. He had dated Stacey without telling his father - but then, she added to herself in a treacherous inner voice, Stacey was a Pureblood, and her family was not, as far as she knew, a sworn enemy of the Malfoys.

She understood that he was conflicted. She understood it was hard for him, and she knew now that she shouldn't have, in a fit of loneliness, demanded to know the truth of the matter. She winced inwardly and felt a queasy roll in her stomach every time she recalled her own words: "do you love me or don't you?" If he had yelled that at her, five months ago before she had time to think through her own feelings, she might have slapped him.

She thought that he was not really angry with her. Occasionally she would catch from him a sad smile, but by the time she could return it he had turned away. She was angry with him, of course, at least she tried to convince herself that she was. Albus certainly helped in that regard. He was all too happy to list off the reasons why she shouldn't forgive him anything. He and Scorpius were not speaking at all. She dreaded to think what it must be like in the boys' dormitory. But Albus was spending more and more of his time with Lizzie or the Quidditch team, leaving Rose alone to ponder these unhappy thoughts.

To make matters even worse, a week later an owl arrived from her mother to say that both her parents would be working all through the Christmas holidays, and that it might be better if she and Hugo stayed at school until summer. Albus got a similar letter from his own mother saying that although she would like to see them, she would understand if he and Lily would rather stay and keep their cousins company. James was going home, but he planned on spending the main part of the holidays with Roxie and Fred at Uncle George's house.

Any other year it would have been fine. But now they faced a long Christmas in Ravenclaw tower, with Scorpius, who was also staying at Hogwarts, as usual. "You can go home," she said to Albus dully, but he shot down that idea.

"And leave you alone here? No way."

All this did was to remind Rose of how many times they had left Scorpius to himself over the Christmas holidays. She knew her parents and Al's father was busier than ever trying to catch the Shadow, and she knew it was important, but it still stung that they had no time for her or Hugo on Christmas. And Scorpius went through that every single year. No wonder he wanted to cling to whatever family connection he might have, as unrewarding as it was.

It became harder to ignore him once the majority of the student body had left the castle. Half a dozen times she came into the common room to find him reading, or playing his guitar, and felt the urge to sit with him. But Al always walked straight past him to the dormitory, where he spent his days composing owls to Lizzie in London.

One of Lizzie's return owls invited the Potters and Weasley children to spend Christmas with them at Diagon Alley. This would have been a great idea if it wasn't for Scorpius, who by now was practically a traditional Leaky Cauldron guest. "Do you think you can be civil, at least?" Rose asked Al, wearily. Al glowered at her, but she knew he wanted to see Lizzie badly. When he wasn't writing her letters he was looking at pictures of her and moping.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll ask him to pass the potatoes nice as you like."

And so it was Rose who had to break the news, approaching the blond boy carefully in the Common Room. "Lizzie asked us to the Leaky for Christmas," she said quickly, so quickly she nearly tripped over her own words.

He looked up, surprised perhaps, but not at the news. "She might have mentioned it," he said. "Does Al want me to stay behind?"

"What, no!" she exclaimed. "He's not that angry…"

"Could have fooled me," he muttered, closing his book with a sigh. It was Charles Dickens, she noted. For a Pureblood who apparently wanted to stay a Pureblood, he had probably read more Muggle novels than her own Muggleborn mother.

"If you could just be polite to each other for one day, that would be great," Rose said stiffly. She had almost forgotten how infuriating he could be.

"What about you?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"What about me?"

"You don't mind me coming?"

"Of course not," she sighed. "As long as there's not a punch-up over the pudding."

He looked confused, but nodded and went back to his book as soon as she turned away. As she went up the stairs to her own dormitory she glanced back at him. He had the book open on his knees but wasn't looking at it. Instead he was staring at the wall opposite, as though in a dream.

~*-R-*~

They walked down to Professor Longbottom's office together, with Rose in-between the two boys as a kind of buffer. Someone had to do it, she decided. They were all in Muggle clothes, Albus in slightly-too-short trousers, Scorpius in the knit jumper Hannah had sent him for Christmas. It was Ravenclaw blue, and Rose had to admit it suited him a lot better than his usual mud-grey article, but she had no opportunity to tell him so, since she had the feeling it would set Al off in a major way. Her cousin was clearly between emotions at the moment, torn between desire to see his girlfriend and annoyance at Scorpius' apparent lack of remorse. It was a long, awkward journey down from Ravenclaw tower, and it was with great relief that they met Lily and Hugo waiting for them outside the Herbology Professor's door.

Hugo was still short for fourteen, tending to take after their Uncle George in stature, and he was developing that same permanently-cheeky expression. The one regret Rose had about being a Ravenclaw was not getting to see her brother that often. He was a good kid, a bit immature perhaps but a good deal more fun to be around than Louis, who had a tendency to be finicky. Lily on the other hand bid fair to take after her mother, tall and willowy with a sheet of fine red hair down to her lower back that Rose couldn't help but envy.

"Do you think Mum and Dad'll come?" Hugo asked her as they waited. "They can't be actually working on Christmas day, can they?"

"The smugglers are probably working on Christmas Day," Lily pointed out. She was still dead set on her ambition to become an Auror, as no one seemed to be able to talk her out of it so far. "They probably don't expect to be caught on Christmas. That seems like a perfect opportunity to catch them, to me."

Hugo rolled his eyes. Rose got the impression he had to listen to this sort of talk quite a lot. Potters could be very stubborn.

"I don't know if they'll come," Rose said, not wanting to get her brother's hopes up.

"They're busy, I know," Hugo sighed.

"Aw, d'you miss your mummy and daddy?" Lily teased, and Hugo made a face at her.

"Like you don't miss yours," he shot back. Rose noticed that Scorpius suddenly seemed very interested in a nearby tapestry.

"Please don't bicker, children," Albus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We get enough of that from the Scamanders."

"Children, are we?" Lily scoffed. "That's nice, just because you're seventeen, now - "

"I'm a man, I'll have you know," Al said, puffing himself up so that even Rose laughed. "I can Apparate and everything."

"No you can't," Lily shot back. "You don't have your test."

"Well at least I can take the test. Does that sound like someone's here?"

There was a rusting around inside the office and then finally the door opened. Neville, dressed very un-Professor-like in Muggle trousers and shirt, poked his head out and looked relieved to see them. "Oh good," he said. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. It's been a bit hectic." He waved them all into the office and locked the door behind them before leading them to the Floo.

"Did something happen?" Scorpius asked, and out of the corner of her eye, Rose saw Albus flinch as if he'd forgotten he was even there.

"Oh no, lad, nothing for you to worry about. Come on then, you all know the drill." Rose watched her brother and Lily in turn take Floo Powder from the jar he held out for them and shout "Leaky Cauldron, Publican's Apartment!" into the flames. Then Neville offered her the jar. She hesitated, not wanting to leave the two boys without a Peacekeeper, but since she could hardly say so, she took her own pinch of powder and stepped into the green flames.

Lizzie was waiting on the other side, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She gave Rose a hug, but she was clearly waiting for someone else, and it wasn't Scorpius, who came through next. "Your dad had a look to him," Scorpius told her. "I think he wants to give Al a talk."

"Oh no!" Lizzie exclaimed. "I knew I should have gone with him!"

There was indeed a very long wait before Albus or Neville came through the Floo, during which Scorpius made his escape, going in search of Hannah and Alice. When Al finally did appear, his cheeks were flushing red beneath the rims of his glasses.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Lizzie said, seeing him. "I am so sorry!" She launched herself on him before he had a chance to reply, so that he staggered a little under her weight. Rose, watching, suddenly remembered with an uncomfortable feeling the time when they had come to get their school things, when they had met Scorpius in the street, when she had run to him and he had lifted her and twirled her around and around…

Lily made a gagging sound and Lizzie loosened her hold of Al to smile impishly at her. Rose thought she was going to kiss him to make a point, but Neville came through the fireplace at that point, and Al shook off Lizzie's hold as though he'd been burned. Lizzie immediately began berating her father for whatever he might have said to her boyfriend, which was highly awkward for everyone involved, although Neville seemed to brush it off without much concern.

There were no extra guests, but it was still a bit of a squeeze at the table by the time Scorpius had come back with a giggling Alice in his arms, and Hannah not long after, dusting flour off her hands and taking off her apron.

Not for the first time, Rose wondered if there was something truly magical about the Leaky Cauldron. What it had done for Scorpius over the summer was remarkable, for a start. But now she got to see the magic at work as she saw her friend gradually drop his guarded, cynical attitude, and become once again the boy she had met anew in the last week of summer, so long ago it seemed now. He and Alice played games and chatted to each other as they ate, apparently as close as any brother and sister. The four year old was considerably more vocal than she had been six months ago, and though a lot of what she said made no sense at all that Rose could make out, he nodded and answered her as if he understood. He talked Dickens with Hannah and music with Neville and complained cheerfully that his food was getting cold while he talked. It was as if a mask had been lifted.

Even Al lost some of his grumpy demeanour, with Lizzie holding his hand under the table at intervals, or whatever else was going on down there that Rose didn't want to know about; he could scarcely keep up a grim face. The boys still didn't speak to each other, but there was a noticeable lack of enmity in the air. Rose felt more relaxed than she had in days, and they all joined in the laughter when Alice knocked over a decorative statue of Merlin that fell face first into Hugo's dinner. The Christmas pudding was brought out and Neville lit it with its wand, sending a up tall blue flame worthy of a loud cheer and round of applause.

The good feeling however, was doomed to be short-lived. Just as Hannah stood up to clear the dessert plates, there was a Floo call from the living room. Neville stood up to get it, looking worried. A moment later there was the whooshing sound of someone coming through the fire.

"I'll do it," Scorpius said, quickly, grabbing his own plate and Alice's and starting to pile them.

"Thank you dear," said Hannah gratefully. "I'll be right back." She put down her armful and hurried after her husband.

"There was a call this morning," Lizzie said softly as soon as her mother was out of earshot. "I heard Mum and Dad talking. There was some kind of incident at the Ministry."

"What sort of incident?" Rose asked, frowning.

"I don't know, no one will say."

"And you didn't mention that before?" she demanded. "Our parents work at the Ministry, what if -"

"Shhh," Al hissed. "Listen."

Scorpius stopped piling plates, and they all listened intently to the murmur of voices from the living room. Rose didn't even feel guilty eavesdropping. She could hear Neville, Hannah, and a third voice. A suspicion began to grow in Rose's mind as she listened, but Hugo beat her to the realisation. "That's Dad," he said, getting out of his seat and running for the door.

"Hugo!" Rose hissed, too late, he was already gone, leaving the door ajar. She hurried to get up and almost knocked her chair over going after him.

"Hugo," she heard her father say wearily. "Happy Christmas."

"What are you doing here Dad?" her brother asked as she entered the living room, Al and Lizzie not far behind her. "Are you staying?"

"Sorry mate, I just came to update Neville." Her dad looked up and saw her. He looked very tired but otherwise well. "Hello sweetheart."

"Hi Dad," she said, going up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. He hugged her tight around the shoulders. "What is it?" she asked. "Is everyone okay? Mum?"

"Your mum's fine, love."

She looked up at him, sensing there was something he wasn't saying. "Dad, you're scaring me."

"It'll be in the Prophet tomorrow anyway," Neville said softly.

Ron sighed and nodded, turning to the children with a grim expression. "It's Kingsley."

"The Minister?"

"Yes, someone sent two dodgy packages disguised as Christmas presents. They got through all our security and one of them ended up in Minister Shacklebolt's office. He's in St Mungo's - he'll live, but we've just spent all day trying to figure out where our security protocols fell through."

"What happened to the other package?" Lily asked, sharp as a tack as usual.

Ron hesitated.

"What happened to the other package?" Albus repeated, low.

"Albus -"

"It went to Dad's office, didn't it." Al said flatly.

"Al, he's fine," Ron said quickly. "He got out before anything happened -"

"Someone tried to kill my dad and you're telling me he's fine?"

Ron sighed. "Believe it or not, Al, your dad is used to people trying to kill him by now. Trust me, he's fine."

Lily had gone very wide-eyed. "What kind of package was it?" she asked. "Was it cursed? Was it the Shadow?"

"Well - " Ron stopped short, looking over Rose's head to the dining room door. Rose turned to see Scorpius standing there, holding Alice by the hand. The little girl looked confused and frightened, and Rose realised they must have been able to hear every word from the next room.

"Sorry to interrupt," Scorp said. "One of us got a bit scared."

Alice looked up at him reproached fully. "I'm not scared," she insisted, but didn't let go of his hand.

"Oh really? Well good, because I was talking about me," he said to her in a stage whisper.

"I'm sorry darling," Hannah said, coming over to lift Alice onto her hip. "Bed for you, I think. Say bye bye."

The child waved tiredly to a chorus of "goodnight" from everyone. Hannah carried her up the stairs, leaving the room in a state of awkward silence.

"Uncle Ron?" Lily prompted. "Was it the Shadow?"

Rose's father looked over at her, but he clearly didn't want to say anything else in front of Scorpius. Neville noticed this too, and frowned. "Ron…" he began, in a would-be-patient sort of tone.

"Never mind," Scorpius said then, and Rose sensed a danger in his voice. "Don't mind me, I'll just…" he gestured vaguely and made his way to the pub stairs.

"Scorpius…" Neville tried to call him back but he was already gone.

"I'll go," Rose said when Neville would have gone after him.

"Rosie -" Al tried to protest, until she whirled on him and gave him a hard look worthy of her mother.

"I think you've done enough," she snapped at him, and went down the stairs.

The Leaky Cauldron was its usual mad self, post-Christmas-dinner revellers singing bawdy songs and dancing between - and on top of - the tables. Scorp was nowhere in sight, but she hadn't really expected him to stay in the middle of this crowd. She hesitated. He could have gone through the wizard's entrance to Diagon Alley, of course. Perhaps to visit his friend the old string-maker, though she doubted that as it was getting quite late. Something told her that he had gone the other way.

She ducked, squeezed and occasionally pushed her way through the throng until she could reach the entrance to Muggle London. As soon as she pulled the door ajar, an icy breeze rushed through, chilling her face and hands and making her gasp. There was a groan of annoyance from those in the path of the draft, but she ignored them, pulling the door wider so she could get through and closing it firmly behind her.

It was freezing on Charing Cross Road. Her breath misted in the air before her as she looked around, rubbing her arms with numb hands. It was snowing, a light fall that spotted the tarmac without building up except on the few areas of grass around lamp-posts and the windscreens of parked cars. There was very little activity, this late on Christmas day, but there was always something moving in Muggle London. A big car roared past suddenly, the brief stink of petrol making her wrinkle her nose. No wonder even her mother didn't venture into the Muggle world unless she had to.

She watched the car out of sight around the corner, and then she saw him. He was standing outside a bookshop, sheltering from the snow under the overhang. He had his arms crossed over his chest, the Ravenclaw-blue jumper and the pale gold of his hair standing out against the dark windows. She hurried over, eager to be out of the wind, and he looked up when he heard her footsteps. He didn't look surprised to see her, but he frowned when she came up onto the step, shivering.

"You're freezing," he said.

"Well spotted," she said, her teeth chattering. She was wearing long sleeves and jeans, but that was her only protection against the cold. "Come back in so we can both be warm."

"You can go back in," he said, looking away. "I don't feel like being glared at for the rest of my Christmas."

"He wasn't…" Rose began to protest, but she could not truthfully defend her dad in this, she knew.

"It's fine," he muttered. "I get why I shouldn't be privy to top secret discussions like that. I'm probably the one who tried to kill the Minister."

"Scorp…"

"Runs in the family after all, right?"

"Scorp, you stop that right now."

He stopped, but he still wouldn't look at her.

She shivered and drew herself closer to the brickwork, trying to soak up whatever warmth the building might have to offer. "I"m sorry I said that stuff about your dad," she said after a moment. "Everyone deserves to have a family."

He shrugged. "Thanks."

"I'd apologise for Al as well, but frankly you've been as much of an ass as he has, lately."

To her surprised, he actually chuckled. "Yeah, probably."

She let out a breath and shook her head, turning to leave. "Well, if you're going to be like that -"

"Rosie, wait."

She turned to see him looking at her with some unnamable emotion in his expression. "I'm… sorry too," he said. "I shouldn't have… I just…"

"No, I get it," she sighed. "My father doesn't trust you. Your father probably would hate me…"

He snorted as though to emphasise the understatement.

"I mean I understand why that would be too hard," she said, though it hurt to say it. "I'm sorry I put you on the spot like that. I don't want this to ruin everything. You're my best friend."

He bit his lip for a moment, considering, then burst out - "he didn't even send me anything."

"What?"

"My father… there's usually a letter, at least, and last year he sent a present, but this year… nothing."

"Oh." That was sad, but she wasn't sure what point he was trying to make. "Sorry."

"No that's the thing, I don't even care," he said. "I'm even sort of glad. His letters always remind me how much he couldn't give a crap, and now he won't even make that much effort. And I haven't even heard from my mother in years." He looked up into the night, the snowflakes swirling and sparkling under the street lamps as the sun went down, somewhere unseen beyond the city. "I'd give anything to be Al, sometimes," he said. "Or Lizzie. I'd do anything to be a Longbottom."

"Or a Weasley?" she asked, smiling tentatively.

He grinned. "Not sure red hair would suit me."

She laughed, rubbing her arms.

"You'll freeze in a minute," he said, opening his arms. "Come here."

She hesitated only a second before taking a step forward and allowing him to fold his arms around her, enveloping her in his deliciously warm body heat. "How come you're so hot?" she asked, her voice muffled slightly.

"I work out," he said, and she poked him hard in the stomach. "All right, fine," he chuckled. "Warming charm. I might be sulking pathetically, but I'm still a wizard."

"I should have thought of that," she sighed. Her wand was still in her bag back at the castle. She snuggled closer, burying her face and hands in his jumper.

"Rosie?"

"Hm?" She was so comfortable. She wanted to stay here in his warmth forever, to not worry about silly quarrels and family enmity. If things could just stay like this...

"I… need to tell you…"

"What?" He was going to complicate things again, she could just tell.

"I do, I mean… I do like you. It's hard to say…. love, because I don't know what that means, but..."

She didn't move. She kept her eyes closed and her face pressed against the warm blue wool. If she looked at him she knew she would cry.

"I've had time to think about it," he added, his hands shifting position slightly against her back. Was he trembling or was it just the cold? "I did think about you all summer. I liked being at the Leaky but I wanted to be with you, as well. I even thought about going to Italy, but I didn't know if I would find you, and… it's just I never thought… I always imagined my father was going to find some rich French woman for me to marry so I shouldn't even bother fancying anyone and I just never questioned it. I know, I know," he said before she could even interrupt, though her heart was beating too hard in her throat even if she had wanted to say anything. "I questioned everything else, I took the wrong subjects, made the wrong friends, got Sorted into the wrong house. I know I'm an idiot. I should have said right from the start, the very first time you saved me I should have said: I love that girl."

Rose swallowed hard and made herself pull back a little. She looked up at him with her hands still clasped between her body and his. "I saved you?" she repeated, her voice coming out very strange to her own ears.

"Of course you did." He seemed surprised that she hadn't realised. "Hundreds of times. Every time I thought I was worthless, or useless, or doomed to be just another Malfoy, forever." His grey eyes shone almost icy blue in the lamplight. "You always know how to make me feel… wanted."

"What are you saying?" she asked, what she should have asked months ago.

"I was wrong," he said. "I thought about it and I was wrong . And I… if you want… I mean, I understand if you won't, but if you give me a second chance…"

She decided she had had enough of his rambling around the issue. She leaned up and pressed her lips gently against his, silencing him quite effectively. The cars had all retreated into the city night and the only sound she could hear was the snow in the wind and her own pounding heartbeat.

It was several minutes before either of them spoke again, and when she broke apart to look at him there was something new and wonderful in his gaze. "How about we start with this," she said. "Just this. And we'll talk about love later."

"Sounds good to me," he said smiling, and leaned down to kiss her again.

Chapter Text

2023-2024

~*-S-*~

By the time they got back to the Leaky Cauldron, Rose's dad had left. "He said he was sorry, sweetie," Hannah said. "But they're all in a shambles at the Ministry at the moment, from what it sounds like. He had to go back to help sort everything out."

"It's okay," Rose said, though he could tell she was disappointed. Personally Scorpius was glad. It had been a difficult few days and he honestly didn't think he was up to facing the man again. "At least I got to see him on Christmas."

Hannah nodded and patted her shoulder. She didn't say anything about how close they were standing, or even when Rose slid her chilly hand into his, though there was just the faintest hint of a knowing smile. But then, it wasn't Hannah's reaction he was worried about.

Al, Lizzie, Lily and Hugo were waiting for them in the living room. Scorp tried not to look straight at Albus while still watching him for signs of outburst. Al's eyes went from Rose's red face to Scorpius' pale one, to the interlocking hands. Then he sighed. "Bout bloody time," was all he said. Lizzie nudged him, and he rolled his eyes and nodded at them.

Scorpius wondered if he ought to attempt to apologise, for Rose's sake at least. "Al, I - " he began, but his friend waved it off.

"Never mind," he said flatly. "Just don't do it again."

Scorpius thought this was a bit unfair, but knew better than to say anything.

"Oh Scorpius, I almost forgot," Hannah said quickly as Neville was about to hand out the Floo powder. "An owl came for you."

"For me?" Scorpius frowned. Who on earth could be owling him via the Leaky Cauldron? Aside from the Longbottoms, everyone else he knew was at Hogwarts, or knew to reach him there. For a second he wondered if it might be the missing Christmas letter from his father, until the sensible part of his brain dismissed that as sheer folly.

"It came a few days ago," Hannah continued apologetically, moving aside a stack of letters on the mantelpiece until she found the unopened envelope. "I meant to send it on to the school but I kept forgetting, and since you were going to be here anyway…"

"It's fine," Scorpius said absently as he took the envelope from her hand.

"Come on you lot, before Professor McGonagall comes after me for kidnapping you," Neville said, waving the Floo pot vigorously in their direction. Albus was immediately distracted from his friends by Lizzie's goodbye kiss. Lily made an 'eeeew' noise and took the powder eagerly, but Hugo seemed distracted by the hand that was currently being held by his sister's. The younger boy frowned at Scorpius, but Scorp couldn't think of anything to do but shrug apologetically. If Hugo had a problem with it, Rose was the one who would have to deal.

"Bye," Lizzie said breathlessly as she and Albus broke apart. "See you when school starts again."

"Yeah," Al said quickly, avoiding Neville's eyes as he took his own pinch of Floo powder.

"Oh stop glaring, Hugo," Rose hissed as Al went through the fire. "Go on, shoo."

"Dad is going to spit fire," her brother muttered, but he went obediently enough, leaving Scorpius and Rose alone with the Longbottoms. Hannah gave Rose a hug before she went through, and finally turned to Scorpius with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry we didn't get to hear you play this year," she said.

"You didn't promise anyone, did you?" Scorpius said guiltily. He had been worried about that, but he just hadn't been able to bring himself to pick up the guitar case when the time came to go down to Neville's office. For the first time over the last few weeks, he hadn't felt the least bit like singing. Now though… now he could have sung all night long.

Hannah only smiled and hugged him. "Owl us if there are any problems, all right?" she said kindly.

"Even if the problem is Ron," Neville put in from behind him. "I mean it. You can -"

"Come see you anytime, I know, Professor," he said, rolling his eyes.

Neville grinned. "Well done, lad," he said, unexpectedly. "She'll be good for you."

~*-S-*~

Later, Scorpius couldn't have agreed with that sentiment more. He was lying back on one of the biggest, squashiest common room sofas, with Rose lying curled up against him. She was much warmer now than she'd been in the street, and her hair was like a soft cushion against his chest. The only downside was that Midnight seemed to be taking offence at this new development and kept trying to squeeze in between them, but compared to how comfortable and happy he was, this was nothing more than a minor blip on the edges of his new wonderful and starry universe.

Al seemed to have forgiven him after all, though in his own, grumpy way that meant no actual words needed to be exchanged. To be fair he was clearly still brooding over the potentially deadly package someone had sent his father. He was trying to read a Quidditch book his grandparents had sent him for Christmas, pointedly staying out of the way. At least it was blissfully quiet with the Scamanders home for the holidays.

Rose shifted against him, and there was a crunch of parchment. "What's in your pocket?" she murmured sleepily.

"Oh dear god," Albus moaned to himself, letting the book fall onto his knees. "This is a public place…"

"It's just a letter, you arse," Scorp shot back, feeling around for it. "I totally forgot about it." He ripped open the envelope and unfolded a small sheet covered in cramped handwriting. He squinted at it.

"Who's it from?" Rose yawned after a minute.

"Er… someone called Cleo." He read the letter again, frowning. "She saw me play over the summer at the Leaky Cauldron. I guess that's why she sent the letter there."

"Hey, your first piece of fanmail," Al sniggered. "You should talk to Dad, he's got a guy for that."

"She says she has her own band and she wants to know if I would play with them some time," he said, passing the letter to Rose who peered at it intently.

"Sounds like a stalker," Al muttered.

"She sounds nice," Rose said. "She must be home schooled, or she'd be at Hogwarts, wouldn't she? Or maybe she goes to a foreign wizarding school."

"Or she's thirty," Al put in, cynically.

"Are you going to write back?" Rose asked, ignoring her cousin pointedly.

Scorpius shrugged. "I'll think about it. Oh hey, who wants presents? I got them over the summer." He flushed, remembering that in the middle of their argument, Al and Rose might have disdained from getting him anything. It had certainly been depressing to wake up that morning with only a card from Lizzie signed by her parents. "It's um… it's okay if you didn't…"

"Of course we did," Rose said, smiling as she reached up to tuck an errant lock of hair behind his ear.

"Did we?" Albus looked confused.

"Shut up, Al."

Scorpius went up to his dormitory, and Rose to hers, and they exchanged packages, rather shyly. Rose proclaimed that her present was from her and Albus both, and Scorpius decided to accept this obvious fakery as long as it improved relations between the two of them. Al, at least, looked sheepish when Scorpius handed him a big round parcel. "Thanks mate," he said, shaking it and holding it to his ear.

"It's not much," Scorp said, shrugging. "I didn't have a lot of money left after my clothes and books and things…"

"This is great!" Al exclaimed, on ripping open the package to find a signed Quaffle. "You didn't tell us you met Thomas Wattigan!"

"Yeah, last summer. He was cool… but you could probably meet him any time, your mum being an ex player, and your dad…"

"It's great, Scorp, really," Al said, rolling his eyes and grinning. Scorpius grinned back, glad they were friends again. It had sucked not speaking to him even for a few weeks.

"Open yours," Rose insisted.

Scorpius looked down at the little package in his hands. It was weird, having to open it in front of them. He was used to carefully peeling apart the wrapping paper in the privacy of his own room, by himself on Christmas morning. Albus was not impressed with his unwrapping technique, however.

"Oh just rip it!" he exclaimed after a moment. "We'll be here all night!"

Scorpius rolled his eyes and ripped through the paper. The package contained six golden guitar strings, wound around each other and tied with a Ravenclaw-blue ribbon. They glowed faintly with magic. He swallowed.

"Not much of a surprise," Al grunted. "You said that was what you wanted."

"Yeah, but…" Scorpius shook his head. He knew how much those things cost. He'd spent almost every Knut of his Leaky Cauldron money on the damn things. He looked up at Rose, who was grinning knowingly at him. "Thank you," he said, and she laughed and kissed him.

Vaguely he was aware of Al making a disgusted noise and getting up. "I'll be off then, happy Christmas et cetera, don't stay up too late… blah blah blah, you're not listening, why do I even bother..."

"Ignore him," Rose whispered to him between kisses. He could happily have done so, all night if necessary, but all too quickly she pulled away and reached for her own present.

"Oh - Merlin, it's not special at all," he said quickly, flushing with shame. "I mean, it was so long ago, before all this, I should get you something else, something better. You don't have to open it," he added, but she was already sticking her fingers through the spellotape.

"I'm not expecting pearls or diamonds, Scorp," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well good, 'cos you'd be seriously disappointed," he said, as she rolled the last of the paper. At least I didn't get her a book, he thought gratefully as she turned the velvet bag over and eagerly pulled at the drawstrings. He'd tossed up between a little volume on Ancient Runes and a first edition Wizarding Storm, a wizard novel that he wasn't sure she hadn't read already. In the end it had been Lizzie who had dragged him out of the bookshop and towards the knick knack shop. He made a mental note to send her an owl of thanks when Rose's eyes widened with pleasure as she drew out her gift.

It was a charm bracelet, quite small, but perfect for her slender wrist. He had only been able to afford three charms, a broomstick, a rabbit, and a specially-sculpted Ravenclaw eagle. The shop had had ones for each House, and some other ones which were apparently Beauxbatons mascots, a wolf, a cat and a dove, but he hadn't thought those made any sense.

"I love it!" Rose exclaimed, putting it on immediately.

"I thought… um… you could add to it each year, or… or something," he said, flushing red again at the utter lameness of his gift.

"I will! Then you don't have to worry about different presents every Christmas." She grinned at him, though he didn't think she was entirely serious. She held the bracelet up and inspected the charms more closely. "What's the rabbit for?" she asked, the question he'd been dreading.

"Er… I don't really remember," he said, pushing his hair back awkwardly.

"Yes you do," she said, shaking her head impatiently. "Go on, tell me."

"It's… really stupid."

"Tell me! Please?"

He grimaced, but he couldn't resist that face. "Well… it was the closest thing to a weasel that they had…"

She pursed her lips for a moment, and for a second of panic he thought she was going to be horribly offended, but then she burst out laughing, and there couldn't have been a better end to his Christmas if he'd paid a thousand galleons.

~*-S-*~

The news about the Minster being in St Mungo's was in the Daily Prophet the next morning. Professor McGonagall assured everyone who asked that Shacklebolt was still alive, and gave all indications that he intended on continuing to be so. But it had been a close thing. The article didn't go into much more detail than Mr Weasley had, only saying that the Minister had been attacked by a mysterious package, probably smuggled in by the Shadow. The rest of the paper was overflowing with stuff about the smugglers. Apparently the Ministry's best kept secret was a secret no longer. But there was no mention at all of the second package.

"Dad's good at hushing stuff like that up," Albus said dismissively. An owl from his parents had reassured both him and Lily that everything was fine. "I just hope they're being extra careful now. He can't just keep going around chasing the Shadow now he knows they're after him."

"He probably will," Rose said, ruefully.

"I know," Al sighed. "But I can dream."

New Year came and went, with a firework display let off from Gryffindor Tower. It made for a lovely view from Ravenclaw Tower, as they all crowded up the trapdoor to lean out over the parapet. Scorpius draped the edge of his cloak over Rose, and she put an arm around his waist, and Al managed not to moan about his girlfriend being miles away in London until long after the magical midnight moment was over. Scorpius thought he was getting good at kissing, now. Or he was still rubbish and Rose was just bloody brilliant at it.

"So long as it stays at kissing," Al said, in a burst of uncharacteristic big-brotherly-ness, the night before the rest of the students were due to return to school.

"What do you care?" Scorp asked, frowning. "I thought she made you agree to stay out of it."

"She made me agree not to hound you," Al said pointedly. "This is not hounding. This is warning. Hands strictly at waist-level, Malfoy."

"Oh come on, like you and Lizzie haven't -"

"Me and Lizzie have nothing to do with the illicit relations between you and my cousin," Al said firmly, putting the final touches to his Transfiguration essay with a flourish. "Want me to tell Uncle Ron?"

Scorpius gave up. The truth was, the issue of how they were going to broach the subject of the relationship to Rose's parents had not really come up in any serious way. He knew they'd have to address it eventually, but he was happy to put it off for as long as possible. Somehow he didn't think Rose's dad would be okay with his hands being anywhere on his daughter, waist-level or otherwise.

Unfortunately once school started again, time seemed to be counting down aggressively towards the memorial service on the second of May. Since he'd sat with the Weasleys last year, he could hardly back out of it this time around. "Just be yourself," was all Rose would say when he tentatively brought it up. "You'll be fine."

Scorpius was not so sure. At least the Weasley and Potter Gryffindors, with the possible exception of Hugo, seemed to approve. "As long as you keep an eye on him," he heard James telling Al, and wondered what that meant, but at least he was safe for the time being.

Meanwhile, however, lessons came crashing down on them once again, with even more nasty surprises from the teachers. Professor Davies announced that they would now be starting Human Transfiguration, which made Rose sit up straight in her seat with excitement.

"This is one of the most difficult branches of the subject there is, with the possible exception of full Animagery, which is still Human Transfiguration, but considered a class of its own, and don't any of you go getting any ideas about trying it when my back's turned!" The man's smile set several of the Gryffindor girls to swooning. Scorpius caught Al rolling his eyes at him and grinned. "Get stuck in an animal form, even half an animal, and its incredibly difficult to be changed back, especially if you're too far gone to be able to perform the spells yourself. Partner up and start trying to change the colours of each others eyebrows. Try not to burn them off, please, the stink of burning hair makes me dizzy."

"Wuss," Al muttered as he and Scorp partnered up. Rose partnered with Lizzie. After the unfortunate hexing incident in Defence Against the Dark Arts, it had been decided that girlfriends should definitely not partner boyfriends in class when there was a possibility of accidentally hurting, maiming, or causing highly amusing facial disfigurement to the other. "My grand-dad was an Animagus. Bet I'd be really good at it."

"Go on then," Scorp teased. "Change into an eagle, I dare you. A blue-banded eagle."

"I don't think there's any such thing."

"Make it up then, if you're so clever."

"Oh shut up."

~*-A-*~

The weather went from snow, which at least was fun to play with and pretty to look at, to wet and windy. Almost all of January was miserable. The only thing that excited anyone was the prospect of Apparition lessons, which began on the second Saturday after school started again. "I'm going to splinch myself," Belinda muttered as they all walked down to the Great Hall together. Belinda had broken it off with Peter over Christmas, but was disinclined to talk about her reasons with anyone. "I just know it."

"I heard splinching hurts a lot," Lizzie said, biting her lip and tightening her grip on Al's arm.

"Probably depends which bit of you you splinch," Scorpius said darkly.

"No one's going to splinch themselves," Al told them, with more confidence than he felt. "I asked Dad, no one ever Apparates in the first lesson."

"Does splinching count as Apparating?"

It turned out Al was right, however. They stood in rows in the great hall for what seemed like hours, trying to focus their Determination, Destination and Deliberation until Al thought his head would explode from concentration.

"It makes no sense!" Lizzie complained afterwards. "I'm as determined as I possibly can be and nothing happens. There's got to be a better way of teaching Apparition than this."

"If there was, you'd hope they'd have figured it out by now," Rose sighed. "At least I don't feel as annoyed about not being able to take the test, anymore."

"The test's not till April," Al pointed out, when Lizzie's face fell even further. "We've got plenty of time to practice. And Rose can take it in June and then we'll all Apparate to each other's houses and scare the crap out of James like he did to me last year."

"It'll be nice to be able to use magic on the holidays," Belinda said cheerfully. Her failure at Apparition didn't seem to bother her as it did the others, perhaps because she was so relieved that she hadn't lost any important body parts. "My mum and dad are always saying they'd like to see more magic. It's embarrassing not being able to show them. Sometimes I swear they think I'm making it all up."

"Let's go find somewhere warm," Lizzie said, shivering. "And you guys can help us with Human Transfiguration. I still haven't got eyebrows right."

Of course, there was always Quidditch, though practices in January and Feburary were not nearly as much fun as they were in summer. Albus and Rose came back to the common room after every session covered from head to toe in mud and shivering, to the point where Scorpius wondered aloud how they managed it.

"I mean it's not like you're running in the mud," he said, watching Al strip off his Quidditch robes from his position of smugness on his warm, dry bed. "Wet I can understand, when you're flying in the rain, but where does all the mud come from?"

"Come out with us next time and I'll show you," Al threatened, without much conviction. He was too tired to argue. Between homework, studying for exams, Apparition and Quidditch, there simply were not enough hours in the day. He fell into bed every night and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

Unfortunately this meant that it was harder to spend time with Lizzie, though she was almost just as busy as he was, with lessons, and her Hufflepuff study group. Where he had Quidditch, she had chess club, though she began to complain that Quidditch went on for a lot longer, taking up almost the entire Saturday. The only time he really got to see her was during Apparition lessons, and then he was supposed to be concentrating on the three D's. After the first three lessons, out of the three of them, only Rose had managed to Apparate successfully, which seemed to cancel out her disappointment at Scorpius' skills with non-verbal spells. It helped that they were all getting better at those now, after months of practice.

Ravenclaw beat Slytherin easily in the next game, halfway through February. Everyone was glad it had been a short game. There had been some concern that it might go on as long as the last one, but this time Albus needed no one's help catching the Snitch. He was too wet and cold and miserable to worry too much about getting too far ahead in terms of points, with the result that the final score was 220-40. The next day was a Hogsmeade trip, which only Scorpius was really keen to go on.

"I'm meeting Cleo at the Three Broomsticks," he explained, and Albus caught the flash of a frown on Rose's face before she smiled sweetly.

"Oh really? You never said."

"We only just organised it. Come on, you guys have to come. I can't meet this girl on my own; what if she's a total nutter?"

"Stalker," Albus coughed, not very subtly.

"I don't know," Rose yawned. "I thought I might stay here and do homework."

"Please?" Scorpius begged her, and Albus thought that was smart. He's learning. "I'll buy you a Butterbeer with the two Sickles I have left in all the world." He pulled a face so pathetic that Rose laughed and pushed him away.

"All right, Mr Starving Artist," she chuckled. Still, Albus got the impression that she was going along mainly just to keep an eye on him. Albus didn't really blame her. Scorpius was his best mate, but it still stung that he would ever pass her over in favour of Daddy's approval. Still, it was obvious he fancied her like mad. The two of them were in full new-relationship mode, where every time you walked in on them alone there was a nine out of ten chance they would be snogging and, despite Albus' protests, occasionally hands would be in very inappropriate places. When Al complained about this, Rose told him to stuff it. "It's none of your business what I do," she said firmly, and when he threatened to tell her parents, she threatened to hex him. He backed off at that point. Rose's hexes could be pretty nasty, for a girl.

The three Ravenclaws went down to Hogsmeade early, to avoid the crush of over-enthusiastic third years, wearing the hoods of their cloaks up against the drizzle. Albus wanted to go to Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes, but Scorp was having none of it. "You promised to come with me," he said, though in reality Albus was sure he had done no such thing. So they all went into the Three Broomsticks to meet Scorpius' number one fan, with Rose hanging possessively off Scorp's arm.

When Al saw her, he felt a funny sort of fluttering in his stomach. Stop it, he thought to himself firmly, but his body was not in the habit of listening to his brain. He hung back and did his best not to stare as she hurried forward to shake Scorp's hand. She was quite tall, with long, slender legs that were all too visible under a skirt whose shortness might have given Professor McGonagall a heart attack. She wore a tight-fitting black top covered in a kind of silvery mesh that left very little to the imagination. She had unnaturally pitch black hair streaked in places with purple, large dark eyes under eyeshadow of a similar purple, dark crimson lips and she wore nail polish so dark red it was almost black. There was a dragon tattoo on her upper arm. As Scorpius introduced Rose to her as 'my girlfriend,' he thought he saw a slight crinkle between her eyebrows - disappointment, maybe? - but she smiled and shook his cousin's hand quite politely. And then she was turning to him - oh gods, oh Merlin - what do I say? what do I do? help me someone -

"This is Albus Potter," Scorpius was saying, from somewhere far away.

"Really?" Even her voice was captivating, Albus thought as he stood frozen to the spot. She was smiling at him. "Like Harry Potter?"

"Yeah," Al blurted out. "He's my son - I mean, I'm his dad - I mean, he's my dad, I'm his son, and he's - yeah, my dad."

She laughed, a rich, throaty laugh that made his stomach flip-flop. Lizzie, he thought firmly as she shook his hand. Her fingers were calloused at the tips like Scorpius' were. You have a girlfriend, her name is Lizzie, you really like her. Snap out of it. But it was hard. By the time he managed to tear his gaze away from Cleo, Rose was glaring at him. She looked disgusted.

"You have to meet my friends," Cleo was saying, dragging Scorpius over to where some other people were gathered around a booth. "This is Trevor, he's on keyboards, he goes to Madam Hatchett's with me." The guy she pointed too was even taller and skinnier than her. He wore his hair charmed into short spikes and a sour expression. "And this is Dave." The other boy was short, baby-faced, he looked about thirteen. "Our drummer. He's a Muggle."

"Are you really?" Scorpius asked, instantly fascinated.

"Technically I'm a squib," Dave said, in a voice much deeper than his boyish face would have led anyone to imagine. "My mum's a witch, so's my brother. I always get the short end of the bargain." He shot Cleo a cold look. "Stop telling people. It's racist. It's like saying, oh here's my friend, by the way he's half Indian on his mum's side…"

"Oh give it a rest, Dave," Trevor sighed, dramatically. "No one cares what you can do with a wand. This is a band meeting."

"Dave's brother Elliot was our guitarist," Cleo said, beaming at Scorpius as they all squeezed into the little booth. "But he moved to Bath with his girlfriend, that's why we owled all saw you play last summer. We think you'd fit in with us just great. And I love the stuff you do with your strings," she said, waving her hands enthusiastically. "I was hoping you could show me how - I play bass, but you already know that, it was in my owl -"

Albus felt a sharp pain in his ankle and grimaced. He turned to glare at Rose. "What?" he hissed. Had he been staring? He'd been trying not to stare.

Scorpius was looking oddly bashful. Trevor got up and went to the bar while Cleo continued to go on about Scorpius' musical talent.

"It's just a bit tricky," Scorpius said once he had a chance to get a word in. "What with me being at school here, and during summer I live in France. Probably," he added, in that gloomy tone of voice he used now whenever he spoke about the townhouse. So far he hadn't heard anything from his father regarding his summer plans, and he was preparing himself to go back there with a considerable lack of enthusiasm.

"We'll work around it," she said, shrugging. "I spoke to the landlord, he said we can rent a room here for practices on the weekends."

"He can't just come down here every weekend," Rose said, a little too quickly.

Cleo looked surprised. "I didn't realise your school was so strict."

"Clearly stricter than yours," Rose muttered under her breath, but Al heard. Trevor came back with a tray full of Butterbeers at this point though, and Cleo didn't seem to have noticed this blatant rudeness.

"I could ask Professor Flitwick, I suppose," Scorpius said. "It can't be a big deal for me to come down for a few hours while you guys are at Quidditch."

"Oh, you play Quidditch?" Cleo beamed, turning to look at Albus again and making his foot tremble against the floor. "That's the only thing I don't like about Madam Hatchett's, we're way too small to have more than one team."

"That's, um, your school?" Albus asked, feeling his face flush for reasons of its own.

"Oh yeah!" she laughed again, tossing a lock of purple hair over her shoulder. "Well, it's not really a school, we all bunch up in Madam's living room. There's about twenty of us at the moment but people go in and out, you know."

Albus didn't know, but he nodded anyway. "So are you… doing NEWTs?" he asked, a subtle way of figuring out her age. A casual glance might have put her in her early twenties, but her speech pattern and her laugh made her seem much younger.

To his surprise, she shrugged and waved a hand. "I dunno, maybe," she said, turning to the boys in the band. "Do you guys think you'll do NEWTs?"

Dave made a face. Trevor rolled his eyes.

"Wait, you might not do them at all?" Rose interrupted, horrified. "Why wouldn't you?"

"You don't need NEWTs for everything," Trevor said, sourly. "Especially if you want a job in the Muggle world."

"But why would you want -" Rose began, but stopped and flushed at the look this earned her from all three bandmates. "Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"It's okay," Cleo said, though she didn't smile quite as widely as before. "We find most Hogwarts students are pretty narrow-minded. No offence."

"None taken," Rose replied, grinding her teeth.

"I think it's cool that you get a choice," Al said quickly, earning him a grin from Cleo that was worth more than all his NEWTs put together. He hid his face in his Butterbeer to prevent her seeing his blush.

"Anyway," Cleo said, back to business as she turned to Scorpius again. "We could you use on guitar and vocals, and God knows we need new material. Did you bring it?"

Scorpius grimaced and put a hand tentatively into his bag. "I told you, most of it's just rubbish…"

"Don't be silly!" Cleo exclaimed. "Hand it over."

Scorpius hesitated, holding his notebook tightly. Al stared at him. He never let anyone read his notebook. Surely he wouldn't…

But he did. Albus could see Rose seething as Scorp passed the dogeared exercise book to Cleo. She began turning pages eagerly. "The later ones are better," Scorpius protested, when she spent a little too long on one of the first pages. Dave was reading over her shoulder and Trevor was looking on with a kind of dry amusement. "Let me show you -"

He reached forward for the book, but Cleo pulled it out of his reach, laughing, and waved him off. "Modest," she said, pushing the book closer to Dave so that they could both read. They reached a page with lots of scribbles and crossings out, and Cleo made a soft, pleased sound under her breath. "This one's really good," she said, not looking up from Scorp's narrow, delicate handwriting. "What's it about?"

Scorpius leaned forward over the table, and Albus saw a subtle flicker of some strange emotion cross his face. "My mother," he said, after a moment's hesitation.

Cleo's face fell. "Oh. Well, it's great, anyway, we can definitely work with this."

She continued to flick through the book as the pub became gradually livelier with Hogwarts students. "Oooh," she said, at one of the later pages. She gave Rose a knowing look. "You guys are so cute."

Scorpius went bright red and tried to snatch the book back, to no avail.

"Is it about me?" Rose asked, suddenly very interested and turning her head to read.

"Rosie," Scorp protested. "Come on, this isn't fair, that one's really just scribbles - don't read it!"

"You gave me the book, boyo," Cleo pointed out.

"Yeah, I'm starting to regret that now," Scorpius growled. Rose was looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Is it really about me?"

"I should hope so," Cleo said, giggling and offering the page to Rose. "You wouldn't want it to be about anyone else, would you?"

Scorpius was looking like he wanted the earth to swallow him up. "Rosie, don't, please. I swear I'll play it for you when it's done, okay? But it's not finished yet. Please?"

She put a hand over his and smiled at him. "I won't," she said. "I promise."

Albus thought he might be sick from the cloyingness that was his two friends.

"This is all really great," Cleo said, pulling out her wand and some paper and casting a scribing charm on Scorpius' book. Its contents started to write themselves afresh on the paper - clean, white paper, Al noticed, not parchment. "You'll have to play us some for our first practice and we'll do some arrangements."

"Um," Scorpius said, looking uncomfortable. "I've never actually done that before. You know, it's always just been me, I wouldn't have a clue how to write for piano, or drums, or anything."

All the bandmates laughed, though not unkindly. "Don't you worry," Cleo said. "We'll show you how its done." She turned to Rose and Albus. "Maybe you two could come too, sometimes? Always good to have a bit of an audience." Maybe it was his imagination, but Albus felt that the offer was extended more towards him than Rose.

"We have Quidditch," Rose said shortly, perhaps noticing the same thing.

"Right, of course, but when you don't." She smiled at Albus. "It'll be fun, I promise."

Albus was about to reply that yes, that would be fun, when a familiar voice spoke beside him. "Hey guys." It was Lizzie, wearing a damp cloak over her uniform. "I was looking for you," she said to him, somewhat reproachfully.

"We can't be that hard to miss," Al said, which didn't seem to impress her further.

"This is Lizzie Longbottom," Rose said to the band. "Al's girlfriend," she added, with considerable stress.

"Nice to meet you," Cleo said, without a trace of disappointment. Why did I think she'd be disappointed? Al thought, hating his brain.

"Nice to meet you too," Lizzie said. "Al, you said you'd take me to meet your Uncle George."

"Right, yeah," Al said quickly, standing up and nearly tipping his Butterbeer. "Let's go then. Nice to meet you all!"

Lizzie practically dragged him out of the pub into the miserable chill outside. He shivered and pulled his hood up. "She's very pretty," Lizzie said after they had walked a little way.

"Mmm. What? Who?"

She rolled her eyes. "The purple hair girl."

"Cleo? Yeah, I guess, if you like that sort of thing." Nice save, Potter, he thought.

"Tops with boobs falling out of them? Don't all boys like that sort of thing?"

"Is this a test?"

"Maybe."

He frowned at her. "That doesn't seem fair. I never test you."

"I wasn't the one drooling over Miss Lacy Bra in there."

"I was not! Anyway you couldn't see her bra, how do you know it was -"

"So you were looking."

Al gave up.

He wasn't sure if Uncle George noticed how cold things were between them when he introduced Lizzie, but he certainly felt it as they left the joke shop with their pockets full of free samples. When they got back to the castle, she refused his offer of an escort back to Hufflepuff and left him feeling guilty despite the fact he hadn't actually done anything.

~*-A-*~

True to his word, Scorpius asked Professor Flitwick if he could meet with the band in Hogsmeade on weekends. Flitwick umm'd and ah'd over it for a few days, conferred with Professor McGonagall, and finally came back with the verdict that he could go once he came of age.

"At least that's only a few weeks," Rose said comfortingly, when Scorpius looked disappointed. He nodded and went back to scribbling in his notebook. He'd been at it almost every minute he wasn't in class since the meeting.

"You seriously don't have a problem with it?" Albus asked Rose when they were alone.

Rose shrugged. "I can't tell him not to go, can I? Nothing could make me look more like a crazy jealous person."

"Are you jealous?"

She sighed. "Maybe a little. But we have Quidditch, right? And you're always saying we need to make new friends. It'll do him good to spend some time with people who aren't us or the Longbottoms."

He had said that, Albus realised. Well, that held true for him as well, didn't it? There was no reason he couldn't be friends with the band (their original name had been Elliot and the Dragons, but they were currently in concept development for a new one as Scorpius had flatly turned down the idea of Scorpius and the Dragons, and Albus thought he could understand why) as well.

"You should be spending time with your girlfriend," Rose said, when he tentatively pointed this out.

"I'm trying, but she's hardly ever around," Al sighed. "Or I'm not around when she is. I don't know. Maybe it's... not working out so great."

Rose gave him a withering look. "Keep that girl hanging and Neville will have your head," she warned him.

Albus did not need reminding. He still had flashbacks to the most awkward conversation he'd ever had with his Professor regarding his intentions with his daughter. Thinking about it was enough to make him wonder if Neville might not be pleased if he broke up with her.

In the end, Lizzie spared him the trouble. The day before Scorpius' seventeenth birthday, she caught up to him outside Charms and told him it was over.

"Are you sure?" he asked, feeling his heart sink sadly at the same time that something like relief started to creep over him.

"Yeah," she sighed. She wasn't crying, and he wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. "I've been thinking about it. It's not really working, is it?"

"I guess not," he said, privately thinking that the girl was ten times braver than him for saying what he had wanted to but couldn't have if put under torture. "It was nice though," he added. "While it lasted."

"Yeah, it was." She smiled weakly.

Scorpius and Rose were unsurprised when Albus broke the news. "Well, this leaves you free to go out with Cleo," Scorpius said, grinning. "I reckon she fancies you a bit."

"She does not," Albus sighed, though at the back of his mind he was a little bit hopeful.

"She's always mentioning you in her owls."

"Really? What does she say?"

"Boys," Rose muttered. "You've been broken up less than a day and you're already chasing other girls?"

"To be fair," Albus protested. "Girl, not girls. And I'm not chasing her. Okay, I'll admit if she wanted to go grab a bite, I wouldn't say no…"

"You're gross."

"You're just annoyed I'm going to be around a lot more to interrupt your snogging sessions."

~*-S-*~

Scorpius woke up on his birthday, which happened to fall on a Saturday, feeling that everything was right with the world. There were even more presents than usual, though not nearly as many as had been heaped at the foot of Albus' bed when he turned seventeen, but Scorpius was used to that.

Lizzie and Belinda had got him a new iPod. The old one was starting to cut out every now and then, and the plastic around the wires of the headphones was worn down to almost nothing. Still, it would be like throwing away an old friend to get rid of it, so he decided to keep them both. Anyway the new one didn't have the special anti-magic spells that would help it to work inside Hogwarts. When he turned it on, the screen fizzed alarmingly. Al laughed when he saw the look of panic on Scorp's face.

"Don't worry," he said as he got dressed. "I'll get mum to teach me what spell she used and fix it for you over summer."

"Good idea," Scorpius said gratefully, putting the gift back in the box and carefully to one side.

Cleo had sent him a card, also signed by Trevor and Dave, and a portable wizarding wireless. We need to get you up to date on wizard music, she had written in the card.

Neville sent him a proper wizards shaving kit, Hannah a new jumper, some gloves and a warm, fleecy hat with ear flaps. He felt his stomach twist slightly as he read the card.

Scorpius,

Congratulations on coming of age.

Enjoy the good years while they last!

Neville, Hannah, Anthony & Alice

And all your friends here at TLC.

He wondered if he would get to see them at all over summer. He still held out some hope that he might get another last minute owl from his father saying that he was once again too busy to have him home for the holidays. Though that would hurt a little, it would mean another fabulous summer at the Leaky Cauldron, since he had no intention of returning to his Grandfather's house.

The last present was from Al and Rose, of course. It was very small, a square box with a little ribbon around it. "Not another musical instrument, then?" Scorpius joked, shaking it.

"You better wait for Rose before you open that," Al warned him. "She'll want to see your face."

"Oh fine," he sighed.

They went down to Common Room where Rose was waiting for them. "Finally," she said, hurrying over to give him a tight hug. "You take forever to get up!"

"It's Saturday," Al growled.

"Happy birthday," she said, ignoring her cousin to give Scorpius a soft kiss on the lips. Her charm bracelet jangled on her wrist as usual. He didn't think she had taken it off since Christmas.

"Thanks," he said, smiling. "I didn't open your present yet. Al said not to."

"Oh." She flushed a little. "Well, go on then."

He perched on the edge of an armchair and undid the ribbon so that the box fell open. It was a watch. A proper wizarding one with little spinning discs, and tiny buttons that brought up a compass, the date, the weather and suggestions for what to have for breakfast, lunch and dinner as well as the time.

"Do you like it?" Rose asked, when he had stared at it for what seemed like a long time. "It's traditional, you know, for wizarding men… Al got one on his birthday, and so did James and Fred, and my Dad, and Al's Dad… anyway we thought your father probably wouldn't…. did he?" she added, tentatively.

He shook his head. "No. Not even a card." He couldn't quite bring himself to look at her. He knew about wizarding traditions, and this one… well, it was as good as saying he was family. "Guys, you really didn't have to..."

"Course we did." Albus shrugged. "Someone has to give you a watch, or you're not really of age, right? Flitwick might have stopped you going to Hogsmeade. Now you can just flash him the watch and be like, harhar, seventeen now, just try and stop me!"

"Oh hell, the band practice," Scorpius said, staring at the time at the watching and realising he was meant to be in Hogsmeade in twenty minutes.

He looked up at Rose, who smiled encouragingly at him. "Go on," she said. "We can hang out when you get back."

He grinned at her and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you thank you thank you," he said. "Both of you," he added, beaming at Albus, who held up both hands defensively.

"No hugging!" he insisted. "Get out of here, go on. We have Quidditch practice."

"Right!" He put the watch on, left the box on the chair and ran out of the Common Room and down the stairs of the tower.

He had more fun that day, and all the Saturdays following for the next two months, to last him a lifetime. Trevor became a lot more talkative when discussing music, and even Dave made his strangely deep voice heard as they worked out the arrangements for the first three songs. Great Escape, the song about Scorpius' mother that Cleo liked so much, was the first that they decided was completely finished, half way through April. Scorpius brought Albus and Rose straight after Apparition lessons to hear them play it.

It was a bit cramped in the back room of the Three Broomsticks, but they had done a lot of spellwork to make sure it was soundproof. Dave set up his drums on a little platform while Scorpius, Cleo and Trevor squeezed in in front of him, nodding to each other as Scorpius played the first few notes before the others jumped in with a crash of sound.

You promised me you'd always be around

To pick me up when I'm run down

To help me when my day is busted

But there's no one now who can be trusted

Are you ever coming back, or is nothing built to last

Isn't it something how you vanished in the haze

Isn't it something how you left me in your wake

When you made your great escape

I always thought you'd always be around

But I'm the fool who thought you'd never let me down

Were you trapped inside a cage, planning your getaway

Isn't it something how you vanished in the haze

Isn't it something how you left me in your wake

When you made your great escape.*

His friends applauded dutifully, and Albus had a lot of praise for the song, though it was clear this was directed more towards Cleo's bass-playing skills than anything else. The two of them had a long, meaningful-looking conversation while Dave made faces and Trevor rolled his eyes, as usual.

Rose didn't say much until they were back at the castle, sitting together in one of the bigger armchairs. "You miss her, don't you," she said, fiddling with the charms on her bracelet.

"Hm?" Scorpius had been quite somewhere else, thinking about the magical recording techniques Cleo had been explaining to him. For some reason it made a lot more sense when she showed him than reading the theory out of books. He'd never managed a decent recording but Cleo and the band assured him they could start doing demos after a couple more practices.

"Your mum. Do you think about her a lot?"

Scorpius hesitated. "Sometimes. Wouldn't you?"

She looked at him with pity in her eyes that made him extremely uncomfortable. "Do you think you'll ever see her again?"

Scorpius swallowed. "Maybe," he said. "In a year or so… when things with me and my father are sorted out." He didn't say, when he disowns me, because there was always a chance that wouldn't happen. A slim possibility, but it was one he had to cling to when this sort of conversation came up. "I have her address. I could just go visit her."

"She might not recognise you."

He snorted. "I don't look that different." This wasn't quite true, he had to admit. His hair was almost shoulder-length now, to the point where he was considering tying it back. Continuous daily charms had darkened it to the point where it was a sort of dark sand colour. And he was a lot taller than he had been when he had last seen her.

"I just meant… it's been a long time."

"Yeah."

It still stung to think he had a three-year-old half-brother he had never met. The more he thought about it, the sadder it made him, which was why he tried not to think about it. Finishing the song with the band, and playing it, it had been easy to forget the reason he'd written it in the first place. He probably should have realised it would invite this sort of question.

Rose hugged him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Eh, who needs her," Scorpius said, with false bravado. "I've got you."

"I have no intention of trying to be your mother, Scorp."

"Could have fooled me."

She punched playfully him in the stomach, and once he got his breath back, he had to laugh.

~*-S-*~

The Apparition test was at the end of April. Scorpius went nervously, knowing that he had missed a few lessons because of band practice, but he thought he had the hang of it now. You really just had to believe you could do it. Once you'd done it a few times it was just about making sure you knew where you were going. Both he and Albus passed, which made Rose sigh and wish she could turn seventeen earlier.

"You're coming to my birthday party, right?" she asked him. "I know you don't really know your summer plans yet…"

"I'll come," he said. "Even if it means sneaking out of the house and taking an International Floo. Promise."

She grinned.

"You should probably warn Mum and Dad before he shows up on the doorstep," he heard Al telling Rose later, but she brushed that right off.

"We're going to tell them at the memorial anyway," she said. This was news to Scorpius, but it was her family, after all. She had a right to tell them if she wanted to.

Still, this did not stop his stomach from twisting nastily when he tried to sleep the night of May the first. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Mr Weasley's angry reddened face, ordering him to stay away from his daughter, and Mrs Weasley's look of disappointment. Knowing that Rose, Al, James, the twins and the Longbottoms were all on his side did not help in the slightest. In the end, when his coming-of-age watch woke him at quarter past five on the morning of the memorial, he felt as though he hadn't slept at all.

He dressed drowsily, but made sure to wake himself up enough to make himself presentable. He didn't want to exacerbate the Weasleys' objections by looking like a tramp.

"Stop prettifying yourself and hurry up," Al yawned, glancing out the tower window. "People are here already."

"So… early," Gaius moaned, causing Peter to shoot him a disapproving look.

"You lot go down," he said stiffly. "I've got to bully the first years out of bed."

They met Rose and the other girls, sleepy-eyed and yawning in the Common Room, and Scorpius slipped his hand into Rose's. She smiled up at him, and he felt his heart lift a little. She liked him, and that was all that really mattered. Right?

It was cold at five thirty in the morning, and they had all bundled on jumpers and extra layers under their robes. Scorpius had put on the hat Hannah had given him for Christmas, and he was glad of it when she beamed at him as they came up with Lizzie. She didn't say anything - it was generally accepted that no one spoke until the address had been given at the end of the procession. She was holding Alice, who had clearly decided it was time to go back to sleep. The girl had turned five since Christmas and looked heavy. Scorpius made an offering motion with his hand and Hannah, signing gratefully back, handed the child over. Scorpius staggered momentarily under her weight, but her arms curled sleepily around his neck and he decided he could live with the ache in his back for a while.

Rose pulled on Scorpius' sleeve. He turned with a sense of dread to see the procession approaching, Harry and Ginny Potter very visibly near the front, carrying a candle each. Teddy was only a few places behind them, holding two candles. Another glance took in the rest of the Weasleys, including Rose's grandparents and her uncle George. The students joined the end of the procession as it passed. Alice woke up and allowed Scorpius to put her down, provided he held her hand, and Lizzie took her other hand, whispering 'shhh' every time she tried to ask what was going on.

As Professor McGonagall got up to give the address, Scorpius couldn't help noticing how very ancient she looked. Everyone kept saying she must be retiring soon, but she just kept on going. Neville hurried forward to help her up the step to the platform, and she turned to face the crowd, hundreds of faces lit by the orange glow of their candles.

"Today," she began, as she always did, her voice high but steady through the chill. "We remember those who died here, twenty-seven years ago. We remember those who died in and around Hogwarts. We remember the students who were killed before their time. We remember those brave wizards and witches who came to Hogwarts' defence. And we remember, as always, all those who perished under the reign of Lord Voldemort during the year of terror. Those who were cut down as they tried to protect their families. Those who were killed when they tried to fight back. And those who were killed, simply because they were Muggleborn, Half-blood, or even Muggle-raised. Those who stood for light, against the darkness. We will remember them."

"We will remember them," Scorpius joined in the soft chorus of the crowd as the sun began to peek over the horizon.

The candles went out as Neville helped McGonagall back down from the platform. Alice shivered and Hannah came over to tap her on the head with a warming charm. Rose took the opportunity to take Scorpius' newly unoccupied hand in hers as the Weasley family began to accumulate around them. Scorpius took a deep breath. This was it.

"Dad!" Albus exclaimed as Mr and Mrs Potter came into view. He let his father pull him into a hug, and didn't even protest when he ruffled his hair. "How are you? How's the Minister? The Prophet only ever says he's still recovering in St. Mungo's."

"Almost back on his feet, I think," Harry said. He looked tired, Scorpius thought, and he remembered that the man had been helping to run the Ministry of Magic since the attacks on Christmas day. "We keep having to convince him that he can't run the country from a hospital bed. Ah… all right, Rosie?" His gaze had caught the intertwined hands. Ginny had a look on her face as though she was politely trying not to notice.

"Yes, Uncle," Rose said cheerfully.

"Your mum and dad are just leaving Fred's sweets and things," Ginny said, giving her husband a meaningful nudge in the ribs as Lily and James came over for their hugs as well. "Al, I'm sorry about you and Lizzie, dear…"

Albus flushed bright red. "Oh… you heard about that."

"We also heard about this new girl," Ginny said, her tone changing from sympathy to something very like disapproval. "Claire?"

"It's Cleo, Mum, and we're not together, where do you even hear this stuff?"

"Friends in low places," Harry muttered, earning him a glare from his wife.

"Cleo's in Scorp's band," Rose explained, helpfully, ignoring Al's whispered shutupshutupshutup. "You would just love her sense of style, Ginny."

"How is the band?" Hannah asked, enthusiastically. She had already informed Scorpius by owl that the group had an open invitation to play at the Leaky Cauldron whenever they would like.

"Great, thanks," Scorpius said with relief, glad to talk about something easy. "We've been working on some recordings and things, wizard and Muggle ones, getting a feel for our sound. Still working on the name, though."

"Rose?"

Scorpius felt his heart sink into his stomach as Rose's parents and a bunch of other redheaded people came into view. Most of them split off into other groups - Bill and Fleur to talk to Louis, Percy and Andrea to find Lucy - but Teddy, Hermione and Ron remained.

"Hi Dad," Rose piped up, into the awkward silence. Her hand tightened its grip on Scorpius' fingers, as though afraid he might try and let go. Fat chance of that, he thought darkly. Your hand is the only thing keeping me from being burnt to a crisp by your dad's death glare.

"Well…" Hermione said, with a stiff sort of politeness. "This is… ah… are you two…?"

"Yes, we're together," Rose said firmly. Scorpius had to admire her bravery, but then, they were her parents.

"See, mum," said Albus, triumphantly. "You lot don't know everything."

Hermione's expression went through a brief uncertainty, before she looked over at Scorpius' face and settled on a smile. "Oh you poor thing," she said, almost laughing. "You look terrified!"

"Well, you lot scare him," Rose said, giving her father a meaningful look. Ron's face flickered between anger and disbelief.

"I'm not surprised," Hermione sighed, patting Scorpius sympathetically on the shoulder. "Ron, say something nice so the poor boy isn't scarred for life."

Scorpius watched Rose's father with trepidation. Clearly he was torn between acting on his true feelings and obeying his wife's orders. He looked up, past Scorpius, as if trying to think of anything he could say that would not be an insult, but then the indecision vanished all at once and his expression twisted into one of pure fury. Scorpius almost took a step back. "That bastard," Ron hissed.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped. Scorpius was sure there was going to be a blazing row, but then he realised Mr Potter was looking angry, too, and neither of them were looking at him.

"Er…. Scorp…" Al said, also staring over Scorpius' shoulder into the crowd.

"What?" Scorp asked, completely non-plussed. "What is it?" He turned around, looking wildly for whatever had everyone so upset. And then he saw.

On the far side of the grounds, the unmistakable figure of Draco Malfoy was coming through the Hogwarts gates, and onto the grounds towards them.

Chapter Text

2024

~*-S-*~

Scorpius turned back hurriedly, his heart pounding, the image of the man strolling with purpose across the grounds burned into his brain. "No," he muttered frantically to himself. "No, no, no, no…"

"Did you know he was coming?" Hannah asked, pulling Alice a little closer to her. That shamed him, that she would be so afraid for her child.

"Of course not!" he exclaimed, still trying to think. The shock made it difficult to do so with any great efficiency. "Two years… two bloody years without hardly so much as an owl, and now this…"

Rose squeezed his hand tightly. He knew he ought to let go, but for some reason he couldn't quite manage it.

"You think he's here to see you?" Al said, still staring over Scorpius' shoulder. "He looks pissed. Maybe it's something else." Scorpius didn't dare look round. He didn't think his father had recognised him through the crowd, and once he did the game was well and truly up.

"Of course it's me," Scorpius growled. "He hates this place, he'd never come here otherwise. Has he seen me?"

"Nah, he's going the other way," Al replied.

"Yeah, away from us, the great coward," Ron muttered. "Looks like he's heading to McGonagall."

Scorpius felt his heart sink, if it was possible, even lower into his stomach. "Oh no," he moaned. "I can't let him talk to her, he'll say something horrible to her and she'll kick me out, I just know it." He shook off Rose's hand with a great deal of regret, but there was nothing for it. He turned to her, eyes wide in his suddenly pale face. "Whatever you hear…" he began.

"I know," she said, and he could have kissed her right then, just for that. "It's all right, we won't stay. We'll wait for you inside."

He nodded, stiffly, wanting to hug her but his emotions were too damn scrambled to figure out if it was worth the risk. "Yeah. I… see you."

He tore himself away before he could change his mind, ducking past the Weasleys and around the thickest part of the crowd to where Neville had leant the Headmistress his arm for the long walk up to the castle. The look on Neville's face when Draco stepped into their path would have made Scorpius laugh, any other time. "McGonagall," he could hear his father sneering. "I am here for -"

"Father!" Scorpius called, before any serious damage could be done. He had never known anyone so skilled at insults - by omitting the Professor, he'd no doubt already put himself on the wrong side of McGonagall's temper.

Draco turned. The look of fury on his face was almost enough to make Scorpius turn and run back the other way, but he didn't. He skidded towards them through the mud churned up by hundreds of people walking through the soft grass, staining his shoes and the bottom of his school robe. "What," his father hissed at him as he slid to a halt. "Is that?" He gestured sharply to Scorpius head.

Scorpius raised a hand and realised his father was talking about Hannah's birthday present. "It's a hat, Father," he said shortly, pulling the flaps down with a sudden flush of defiance. "It keeps my ears warm. You should try it." The man was wearing a thick cloak, a good make, Scorp noticed, but his ears and cheeks were bright pink in the cold. His few remaining strands of hair fluttered in the chill breeze, but he did not shiver. He was far too stubborn to be affected by any such thing as weather. With a jolt, Scorpius realised that the reason he could see his father's head so easily was that they were now of a height. If anything Scorpius thought he might be a little taller.

"What are you doing here, Mr Malfoy?" Neville broke in, before Draco could launch into a rant about inappropriate wizarding clothing.

Draco's lips curled into a sneer. "My reasons for being here are of no concern to you whatsoever, Longbottom."

"Professor Longbottom," Neville said calmly. "And as a teacher at this school, I am well within my rights to ask. This is a day of peace..."

"I have no intention of interrupting your… festivities," Draco interrupted, with so much contempt that Scorpius half hoped Neville would punch him in the mouth. It certainly looked like he wanted to. "I have attempted to do this through the proper channels, but the Headmistress has refused my every request to so much as enter the castle."

Scorpius turned to stare at McGonagall. Her expression was unreadable, except for a slight curl to the edge of her lip. "Your intentions were unclear," she said, as cool as steel. "You'll forgive my caution considering your history of compromising Hogwarts security."

Draco's cheeks went even redder, and Scorpius winced inwardly. "Be that as it may," he hissed. "I am here now, since your gates were standing wide open -"

"You knewthey would be," Neville said, darkly.

"Of course, Longbottom, I am not a fool. Be assured I am not here to threaten your security in any way, however. My son and I will be leaving before the sun is fully up, and you can return to your mediocre teachings in peace."

"Wait - what?" Scorpius broke in, his brain catching up with the conversation suddenly. "I'm - going with you?"

"You are going to Durmstrang," his father snapped, without even looking at him. "Where I should have sent you from the very beginning."

"No!" Scorpius exclaimed, unable to help himself. "You can't!"

"Be quiet," Draco snarled, rounding on him. "Or do we need to have another talk about lies, Scorpius? I warned you this would happen."

He knows, Scorpius thought, his pulse thrumming in his throat. He knows, he knows… how could he know? None of the Weasleys heard… But his father was drawing a parchment out of his pocket and shaking it in Scorpius' face. With confusion he recognised his OWL results.

"Another mistake, I suppose?" Draco sneered. "I must say it's strange how your mail keeps arriving with such errors -"

"Wait… this… this is about Muggle Studies?" Scorpius exclaimed. He could have laughed from the sheer stupidity of it all. Suddenly he felt brave. He drew himself up. "Oh for Merlin's - yes, all right, I'm sorry I lied to you, but I've been doing Muggle Studies since third year. I like it, and I'm good at it. You'll notice I got an O," he added, pointing at the crumpled parchment. "You should be proud. I'm actually learning something useful, not just bullying people into getting what I want -"

"That is enough," Draco hissed. "You shame me, Scorpius. You are going to Durmstrang, and that is final. The Headmaster already knows that you are coming."

"I'm of age!" Scorpius almost shouted. "I assume you forgot my birthday, again, it's not like you've got loads of kids to keep track of…" He knew he was making things worse, that his father was just getting angrier and angrier, but he couldn't help it. He was angry too, angrier than he could ever remember. Maybe some things were just built in. "And I'm on a scholarship, it's not like you're paying my way here, you can't just drag me -"

"You are registered with the Ministère de la magie français," his father said, low, and Scorpius stopped dead, his blood running suddenly cold. "The legal age in France is eighteen, in case you had forgotten. I am still your guardian."

"Mr Malfoy!" McGonagall said sharply. "I must advice against this most strongly. Do you realise the impact - changing schools in the middle of NEWTs - I'm sure you would want Scorpius to do as well as possible."

Scorpius could hardly believe it. He had always thought McGonagall hated his guts, and now she was fighting to keep him. She tried to stop him, he realised with sudden awe. He said she stopped him coming to the castle. She knew he was coming for me, and she wouldn't let him. He only wished she had warned him this was coming.

Draco turned his furious gaze on McGonagall, his expression twisting strangely. "What I do regarding my own son's schooling is none of your concern," he said darkly.

"Malfoy," Neville said, dropping the 'Mr' as easily as Draco dropped the 'Professor'. "Just think about this. His life is here, his friends are here. Just slow down, for a minute."

"Scorpius," Draco said, ignoring Neville entirely. "Go and pack your things immediately. I will meet you outside the gates in fifteen minutes, since I am clearly not welcome here."

"Father -" Scorpius tried, one last desperate attempt.

Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him momentarily out of the hearing of Neville and McGonagall. "Scorpius, do not -"

"Father please," he begged. If reason would not work, he was willing to beg. For a second he thought he saw something quite like compassion in the man's eyes, and he pushed on. "I can't leave. I have… people… friends… I just can't."

For a moment he thought he might have done it, that his father was about to nod, but in the same moment the strange expression on the man's face had twisted into an angry frown. Draco pulled him closer. "Do not think I am not above resorting to force," his said in a hissing whisper. "You had best remember, I know where your mother is."

The words echoed in his head, and Scorpius felt his heart turn to stone even while his skin crawled under all his layers. "Fine," he snarled, pulling his arm out of his father's long-fingered grip. "Fine. I'll come."

Draco's lips curled into a triumphant smile, and he turned, his heavy cloak swirling over his heels as he walked away towards the gates.

"Scorpius," Neville said, when the man was out of earshot. "You don't have to do this. Let me tell the Ministry about your grandfather. It might be enough…"

Scorpius shook his head. His grandfather was not the one dragging him away from everything and everyone he loved. "No. Thanks." He turned to McGonagall, meeting her steely grey eyes for what seemed like the first time since that dreadful meeting four years ago when she had told him she didn't want him at Hogwarts. "You too, Professor. Thanks for trying to help."

McGonagall nodded. "I hope it is still not too late," she said. "If you are able to change his mind, there will always be a place for you here."

Any other time, Scorpius would have been overjoyed to hear her say that. Now it only served to make him feel even more miserable. "I… have to go pack," he said, turning and running back to the castle. The mud was already hardening in the morning sun, helped along by the stiff chill in the air, but it still splattered his robes as he ran. He was beyond caring, however.

He paused for a moment in the Entrance Hall, letting the warmth of the great fire and the sounds of hundreds of people laughing and talking over their breakfast wash over him. I used to belong there. I would have been there, with Rose and her family, trying to get them to like me. Well, there was no chance of that now.

He shut out the sound and forced himself to go up the marble staircase. It seemed to take an age to reach Ravenclaw tower, and when he got there, the Common Room was blissfully empty, and so was the dormitory, small blessing as that was. He pulled up the lid on his trunk and looked around at his things.

His guitar would have to stay behind. He knew it, even though it tugged painfully at his heart. His iPods, new and old, he lay beside it on the bed. His Muggle Studies textbook and the novels, he also left behind; Tolkien, Dickens, Shakespeare and the rest. His bands T-shirt would have to stay, and his Muggle jeans. He took Neville's shaving kit and Hannah's jumpers. After a moment's hesitation he took off the hat and shook his hair out. There was always the possibility his father might burn it, he thought, putting it with the other forbidden things. He also left behind his music books, but he stuffed his exercise book full of notes and song lyrics under his clothes in the trunk. Even Draco couldn't argue with doodles, surely. He shoved in the rest of his clothes and schoolbooks and closed the lid of the trunk. He looked around in case he had forgotten anything, and he felt his watch shift slightly on his wrist. He looked down at it, hesitating.

No. He would not leave it behind. Let his father ask who had given it to him, Scorpius didn't care. Just in case, though, he took it off and stuffed it deep into his cloak pocket.

By the time he got back down to the Common Room, dragging his trunk behind him, Rose, Al and everyone else was coming through the door. Neville must have already told them, because Al looked grim as death and Rose had tears in her eyes. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. "You can't," she sobbed, her fingers curling tightly around his collar. "You can't leave."

He could not answer her. He held her as long as he dared, breathing in the clean, earthy smell of her hair and trying to memorise everything about the way her body pressed against him. Behind her he was vaguely aware of her parents and Al's, and Teddy as well as the four Longbottoms, standing awkwardly at the Ravenclaw entrance.

"He can't do this!" Albus was protesting.

"Apparently he can," Neville said darkly. "According to his Ministry, Scorpius isn't of age. He has every right to decide where Scorpius goes to school."

"But - Durmstrang," someone else cut in, and he realised with dull surprise that it was Rose's mother. "I mean, they don't even teach all the same subjects. How's he going to catch up?"

"Mum!" Rose cried, releasing her hold on Scorpius to turn and glare at her mother. "How can you think about NEWTs right now?"

"Actually it's not a bad point," Scorpius said, his voice coming out hoarse and strange. "If I fail everything maybe they'll expel me and I'll have to come back."

"Don't joke," Rose said, wiping her face furiously. "Don't you dare -"

"I wasn't." He put a hand on her shoulder but she pulled away. "Rosie, this is not over. As soon as I turn eighteen, he can't control me anymore." Unless he hurts my mother. "I'll come back."

"That's a whole year," she said, tears streaming down her face despite her constant efforts to wipe them. "Nearly a whole year, Scorp…"

"I know." He felt sick to his stomach, but he dare not succumb to his feelings right now. "This is all my fault, if only I'd never done Muggle Studies…"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Don't say that. That was a brave thing to do."

"Or a really stupid thing to do," he sighed. There was no point in brooding over mistakes made by his thirteen-year-old self. He turned to look at Albus. "I… had to leave some stuff," he said.

Al nodded stiffly. "I figured. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks. And you better tell Cleo and the guys I'm sorry, if I can't owl her."

"Okay." Al shifted uncomfortably, pushing his hair out from under his glasses. "Are you sure about this?"

"I don't have much of a choice." He forced himself not to meet Neville's eyes. "Look, Al… thanks. For everything."

"Shut up." Al stepped forward and gave him an awkward man-hug. "You come back, yeah? Or I'll have to chase you down and kill you for breaking my cousin's heart."

"Deal," Scorpius said, managing a weak smile. "You make sure you smash Gryffindor in the final. We all know they deserve it. Go you eagles!"

Al's smile did not quite reach his eyes, either.

"Goodbye cuz," Teddy said, his hair gone a depressing shade of brown. "Owl me, if…"

"I will," Scorpius promised.

Hannah came forward then, with Lizzie, and Scorpius could hardly speak. Hannah's hug seemed to last a whole five minutes, and she had tears in her eyes. "You're a good lad," she told him firmly. "Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise. You just be you. And if you ever find yourself without a place…"

"First point of call, Leaky Cauldron," Scorpius said, nodding, a strange tightness in his throat. "I know." He knelt and put his arms around Alice. "And you, don't grow up too fast, okay?" he told her. She put her thumb in her mouth and stared at him wide-eyed. She was still half-asleep, perhaps, not understanding anything that was happening. He was glad. He could not have borne it if she had cried the way she had at the train station. That day seemed years ago now.

He stood up and looked around, taking a deep breath. "Right. Bye then."

He was almost to the door when Rose caught up with him, spun him around and kissed him hard on the mouth. He almost pulled away - her parents were right there! - but then he realised it might be the last time he got to kiss her. He lifted his hands into her hair and lost himself for as long as he dared. For a moment, there was no one else, nothing else, but Rose, and her lips on his and her cool hands on his neck and the dampness of her tears against his cheek.

And then, as though it had never happened at all, it was over. "Time's up," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers as she held both his hands.

"I can't believe you're leaving."

"I know."

"I hate you for leaving."

He swallowed. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

She sniffed and stepped back off her tiptoes to look up at him with an intensely furious expression. "I love you."

He swallowed and forced back a wave of emotion. He had to stay strong, just for now, just until he was alone. If he lost it now it would only hurt her more. "I…love you too, Rosie. You know that, right?"

"I know. Just don't let them… don't let them change you. Please."

Rose's mother came over and put a hand around her shoulders, and very, very reluctantly, he forced himself to let go of her hands.

"Time to go, if you're going," Neville said from beside him. "It's already been twenty minutes."

Scorpius grimaced and turned away. "Being late isn't really at the top of my list of problems, Professor." But he let Neville help him haul his trunk through the entrance to the Common Room. He knew the sound of the door closing behind him was going to haunt his dreams for days.

They walked down to the Entrance Hall together, down seven flights of stairs, and Scorpius was reminded of a similar walk they had taken together, after Jian had almost suffocated him in second year. Neville had explained why he pitied Scorpius' father, rather than hating him.

"I suppose because he was born into and brought up in a word that didn't give him a choice, or a chance, to change. His parents, his family and all his friends were Voldemort supporters, and they all expected him to be the same. It would have taken more courage than he ever had to break out of it, if he even wanted to."

As they descended the marble staircase, Scorpius glanced searchingly at Neville. He looked sad, perhaps even a bit angry. "Professor… do you think I'm a coward?"

Neville stopped and turned to him. "No," he said after a moment. "I don't."

"But you are disappointed in me, aren't you. You thought I'd be brave enough to break away from my family."

Neville sighed. "I understand why you would want to cling to whatever family you have left. But I think you know that one day it will be harder than simply choosing between Hogwarts and Durmstrang. They will make you choose between who you really are, and who they want you to be."

Scorpius swallowed. "Yeah, I know."

"If I were you, I'd start thinking now about your choice. There are a lot of people here who will miss you." He shrunk Scorpius' trunk so it could fit under his arm, and handed it to him.

That was what he had said, Scorpius remembered. All that time ago. You always have a choice, Scorpius.

Not this time, he thought. Not really.

"Thanks, Professor," he said, suddenly feeling drained.

"Scorpius," and this time Neville's tone was very serious. "If anything happens… like it did this summer… run. You run, you hear me? Don't be a hero."

"Me?" from somewhere he managed to conjure up a grin as he shouldered his trunk. "I'm the least heroic person ever."

"I don't know about that," Neville said ruefully. "I happen to know a few heroes."

~*-S-*~

His father was waiting for him outside the gates, the cloak of his hood up. "I said fifteen minutes," he said sharply, when Scorpius came up to him.

"It's seven flights of stairs to Ravenclaw Tower. Both ways."

Draco turned away without saying anything and began to walk back down the path towards Hogsmeade. Scorpius took one last glance over his shoulder at the castle he had called home for six years, and turned to follow him.

"Your hair looks ridiculous," his father said after a few minutes of silent walking. "We'll have to cut it before you get to Durmstrang."

Scorpius could not bring himself to answer.

"It makes a very poor statement. To people who understand these things, you might be trying to style yourself the head of the family."

Scorpius crossed his arms over his chest and followed in silence. Does it hurt your feelings, father? he wanted to ask.

The criticism did not stop there. Over the next hour, as they walked to Hogsmeade station and boarded the next train to London, Scorpius endured remarks about his failures from his bearing to his clothes. He made cutting retorts in his head and tried to find his inner calm. It wasn't easy. Two more years of easy living had apparently not improved his father's interminable black mood. Outside Hogwarts, however, he at least seemed to calm down a little. Hardly surprising, since any mention of the school or the people in it were usually liable to set him off into a rage. And here was me, thinking you were always just bitter about being poor, he thought to himself.

The first thing Draco did once they boarded the train was search Scorpius' trunk. He had been expecting that, but it still made his stomach churn to see the man going through his things.

"I am disappointed as you are that this is necessary," his father said when he saw Scorpius' expression, but Scorp refused to rise to the bait.

I left all the important stuff behind, he told himself firmly. And as he had hoped, the book full of scribbles went unnoticed, hidden by an unfolded pile of clothing. The shaving kit attracted more than a moment's notice. Is he wondering where I got it? Scorpius wondered, or is he just surprised I'm old enough to shave, now? Butin any case his father eventually decided it presented no threat, and put it back with everything else.

Then came the haircut, which was so scorchingly short that it left his scalp tingling. His father charmed the hair to fly out of the train window, but one piece got stuck in the outer frame, fluttering long and sandy yellow with the train's movement.

His father read the Prophet in silence as the green lowlands rolled past the train window. Scorp squeezed himself into the corner of the booth, rubbed his sore head, watched his lock of hair be torn apart by the drag, and tried to wish himself back in Ravenclaw Tower. It was a long, long train ride.

At some point he must have fallen asleep, because he was jolted awake by the train coming to a halt. His face was wet. What had he been dreaming about?

Luckily his father had not noticed. "Quickly," he said shortly, standing gracefully and descending the steps to the platform and Scorpius scrambled after him. They came through the gateway and a tall dark man came up to them. With surprise Scorpius recognised Jean, the footman from the townhouse. He handed Draco a ragged looking book that looked suspiciously like a Portkey.

"You know, I can Apparate," Scorpius muttered.

Draco turned to him with a distinctly unimpressed expression. "Can you Apparate to Norway?"

Scorpius blinked and stared at the book. "No way that thing takes us all the way to Norway."

They had done Portkeys earlier that year in Charms. The creation of them was strictly regimented by the Ministry, and they were difficult to make. One-off ones for short distances were the most common, but there were re-usable ones, and only rarely could they take you any great distance, which was why most people used International Floo to go abroad. A Portkey that could go that far must have been made by a seriously powerful wizard. It looked old, too. If it was true, he hated to think how much it must have cost.

His father was starting to get that dangerous look on his face again. "Just touch it, Scorpius."

Scorpius schooled his face into one of utter non-concern, and, with only the slightest moment's hesitation, put his hand on the book. Seeing his hand next to Draco's, he was taken aback by how alike they were, pale skin and slender fingers. The only difference aside from the signs of age were the callouses on Scorpius' fingertips. He curled his fingers slightly and hoped his father wouldn't notice.

The older man was more concerned with giving instructions to the footman, however. Scorpius jolted back to reality just in time to hear, in French - "back before the four o'clock shipment comes in. Wait for me."

"Oui, Monsieur Malfoy," Jean replied obediently, with a bow of his head, as the Portkey activated.

The Portkey tugged at his navel and twisted him around. He almost lost his grip on the damn book, but he held on tight. It might have been the perfect opportunity to get accidentally left behind, but he had no desire to get stuck with half his body in limbo. The book they had studied in Charms had had some fairly gruesome illustrations.

When they landed, however, he instantly wished he had tried limbo. The cold hit him like a hammer and bit relentlessly through his clothes to his skin, which raised instantly to goosebumps. He stuck his free hand under his arm, fervently wishing he had brought the hat after all as an icy breeze froze his ears and nose and stung his almost bare head. He thought for sure they must be outside, but when he opened his eyes he found himself in a small chamber, perhaps an entrance hall. The walls were very bare stone, the floor smooth marble. The cold seemed to reflect off it through his shoes; he could already feel his toes stiffening.

Teeth chattering, he looked around to see a young woman in a fur cloak and hat coming towards them. Her nose was slightly pink, but otherwise she showed no sign of discomfort. "Welcome to Durmstrang," she said in slightly accented English. "The Headmaster is expecting you." She turned and walked towards an open doorway. Draco went after her immediately, and Scorpius decided he may as well go along with it. She might lead them somewhere warm.

His father still was not shivering. He had probably known how cold it was going to be and cast a warming charm. Scorpius almost hit himself in the forehead but he was too cold. He fumbled with the hand that wasn't holding his trunk in his pocket for his wand and cast the strongest warming charm he knew. It helped a little. Thanks for warning me, Dad, he thought bitterly as the girl led them up a couple flights of stairs to a wooden door. She knocked and opened the door for them. A burst of warmth came from it, and Scorpius went through eagerly.

It was an office, not quite as elaborate or as large as McGonagall's, but the rake-thin man in the seat behind the desk was clearly the headmaster. He wore a fur hat and cloak also, and sported a grey beard that went halfway down his chest. This did not interest Scorpius quite as much as the roaring fire in the grate, however. He inched towards it as the old man got up to greet his father with enthusiasm. "Mr Malfoy, Monsieur, so good to finally meet you in person," he said, in French. "So good. I trust you journey'd well?"

"Well enough," his father replied in the same language. "Scorpius, come here."

Reluctantly, Scorpius left the blissful warmth of the fire to join them.

"Ah, this must be young Scorpius," the old man said, with a kind of cheerfulness that did not quite ring true. His smile did not reach his eyes, either. "I am Ivan Reznicek, the Headmaster. Welcome to Durmstrang."

Scorpius had no intention of accepting any such welcome, but his father put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed a little too tightly, and he grit his teeth and said, "thank you, sir," in English.

The fake smile faded a little. Scorpius wondered if the man spoke any English at all. "You will find our school quite different to what you are used to, I imagine," Reznicek said, in French. "Here at Durmstrang our aim is to prepare you for everything the world may throw at you."

Scorpius looked out the window. Thankfully there was glass in it - he could see snow swirling around outside, for all it was already May. "Like snowstorms?" he suggested, also in French. The hand tightened even more on his shoulder. He ignored it.

"Aha," the old Headmaster said, with no trace of humour whatsoever. "I see that Hogwarts has bred some unfortunate… ah… yes."

"I hope you can reverse the damage, Monsieur," Draco said, causing Scorpius to look over at him sharply. Monsieur, indeed. He hadn't even called McGonagall by her proper title.

"We will certainly do our best," Reznicek replied, and there was not even a hint of a smile on his face now. "I'm sure you would like a moment to say your goodbyes, then Bena will show Scorpius to his room." He went to mutter something to the girl who had been their guide, and Draco drew Scorpius aside.

Scorpius broke in before Draco could say anything, going back to English so that Reznicek wouldn't understand him. "I can't believe you're doing this to me," he snarled. "I will never, ever forgive you for this."

Draco looked - Scorpius blinked - for a moment he had looked sad. "I am perhaps partially to blame for this streak of insolence," the older man admitted bitterly. "I should have sent you here as soon as you were old enough. They teach discipline here, something you have been sadly lacking in of late."

Scorpius glared at him. "You know, I liked you better when you just ignored me."

Draco slapped him. It was not a real blow, but it took him by surprise, and his still-cold cheek stung painfully. Reznicek must have heard, but he didn't even turn around. Somehow that was more chilling than the cold. "That is enough," his father hissed. "You will spend the rest of the school year here, learning some manners, and when you come home we will discuss further punishment.

"Further punishment?" Scorpius exclaimed. His father could get as angry as he wanted, he'd be damned if he was taking this lying down. "Sending me to this frozen wasteland isn't enough?"

"You lied to me," his father growled. "And you did what I expressly forbad you not to do. Do you remember the little talk we had about Muggles?"

"Vividly," Scorpius admitted, resisting the urge to rub his cheek. "But you don't understand -"

"I understand perfectly," Draco hissed, so low that surely only Scorpius could hear. "I understand that that school is an unsavoury influence. I should have known better than to let her convince me to send you to school with such people."

"Such -"

"Do you think I don't know who else is in Ravenclaw House?" His father's eyes narrowed, as if to judge his reaction; Scorpius did his best to keep his face still. "Potter's brathas corrupted you, I have no doubt…"

"I'm not corrupted!" Scorpius snapped.

His father's lips curled, as though he doubted that very much. "We will discuss it," he said firmly, in a tone that suggested a lecture rather than a discussion, "when you return home for the summer holiday. I very much hope you will have lost this obstinate attitude by then. And if you try to leave…" he left it hanging, with an ugly sort of finality that made Scorpius want to hit him right back.

"I understand, sir," he muttered.

"Good."

Draco went to shake Reznicek's hand, then left the same way they had come. Scorpius wondered how he was going to get back, if the Portkey was reversible. It must be, if he was going to get back before the four o'clock shipment… whatever that meant.

The girl beckoned to him, and he went over to her, avoiding the old Headmaster as he went back to his desk and sat down with a sound like old wood creaking. "My name is Masha Bena. I will show you your room," she said, smiling. He felt a little breath of relief at her smile. At least everyone here wasn't intent on making his life a misery.

"Thanks," he said, following her out of the office. He regretted it immediately as the cold hit him again, attacking him from every possible angle. He forced his jaws together to stop his teeth from chattering, and gripped his shrunken trunk fiercely. The girl seemed amused by his reaction.

"I will find you a uniform," she said. "Then you will not be so cold."

"Yes please,' he breathed. He reached for his wand to recast the warming charm, but she shook her head.

"Don't do that. To warm yourself with magic is not permitted."

He flinched. "I wasn't," he lied.

She only smiled back. "If I know, you think the Professors will not know?"

He made a face and hurried after her as she led him down yet another bare corridor. They all looked the same to him, no tapestries or suits of armour or anything. How on earth did she know where she was going? "You speak good English," he said, after struggling for something to say. He may as well try and make a friend.

"Thank you."

"Where are you from?"

"Germany. On my mother's side." She smiled at him again. It was starting to get slightly creepy. "There are people here from all over."

"Do you like it here?"

She gave him a slightly pitying look, and did not answer him.

He followed her down what seemed like an endless maze of corridors. Finally they reached one where there were a long row of wooden doors along both sides. There were little chalkboards nailed to the doors with names on them. The sight of them made Scorpius feel slightly ill, especially when Masha led him right down the end to the last door on the right, where the board was blank. She opened the door and stood aside to let him in.

The room could not have been more different to the boys' dormitory in Ravenclaw Tower. It was tiny, big enough only to fit one bed and a space for his trunk. The bed was narrow and bare, with plain grey sheets and a brown blanket folded with military precision on the pillow. There was a small window for light, and a small shelf opposite the bed, but that was all.

"Normally you would have an upstairs room by now," Masha said. "This is a first year room. At Durmstrang the rooms are assigned based on academic achievement."

"Do the upstairs rooms have fires?" Scorpius asked, shivering.

"At Durmstrang," Masha said, as though she were reciting from the handbook. "Fires are lit only for magical purposes."

"You're kidding me."

"I… beg your pardon?"

Scorpius shook his head. He dumped his trunk on the bed. "Never mind."

She nodded. "Wait here. I will get your uniform." She left, closing the door behind her.

Scorpius sat on the bed. There wasn't really any other option.

The place was a prison. Spartan living arrangements and Siberia-like conditions aside, he was stuck here now until June. One month he could probably handle, but then a whole year after that… no. He wasn't going to start thinking that way.

He lifted the trunk off the bed onto the floor, drew his wand and de-shrank it. First he pulled out all his clothes and put on all the extra layers he could find, shrugging his cloak back on afterwards. He took out his books and put them on the shelf. Then he changed his mind, dumped them back in the trunk and pulled out the wireless instead. He put that on the shelf and switched it on, turning the knobs back and forth hopefully. After ten minutes the best he could find was a crackling voice in a language he didn't even recognise. He gave up and switched it off. He got out his shaving kit and put that on the shelf, then dug around for a Ravenclaw tie and hung it off the headboard. It was a bit pathetic in terms of decoration, but it would have to do for now.

When Masha came back he was re-folding all the clothes that he hadn't been able to put on, since he hadn't done a very careful job of packing. She handed him two red robes, a fur cloak and a fur hat almost identical to the one she wore. For the first time he noticed that her hat had a little badge on it in the shape of a crown. Probably the equivalent of Head Girl, he realised. "Sometimes people leave them behind when they leave," she explained, as Scorpius examined his own, slightly threadbare robes. "I hope they fit you."

Scorpius couldn't really care less whether they fit or not. "Thanks," he said, dully.

"Classes finish at five. Dinner is at six. Just ask anyone where it is. Most people will have good enough English. We have Potions in English."

Scorpius grimaced. "Fine."

"Bathrooms are up the hall to the left. The girls rooms are to the right. It is not permitted for boys to enter the girls corridor, and vice versa."

"Right."

"There is a common space between here and the upstairs room. You can do your homework -" she pronounced that word slightly oddly, making Scorpius take a minute to figure out what she said and causing him to momentarily lose track of the conversation - "there or in the library. Someone will find you tomorrow to show you to classes. Lights out is at sunset." She smiled that smile again. "That's a joke."

"Because there's no lamps, right. Funny."

She seemed a little put out by his lack of humour, but he was in no mood to laugh. "Well. Welcome to Durmstrang, Malfoy."

"It's Scorpius," he said quickly. "Or Scorp." But she had already turned to go back down the corridor. He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to slam the door after her, and closed it carefully.

He lay down on the bed. The layers of clothes helped a little, but he pulled the fur cloak over himself to block out the rest of the chill. He must have lain there for a long time, because eventually he heard a chatter of boys in a whole mess of languages in the corridor outside. He guessed it must be time for dinner, but he wasn't at all hungry. The noise died down after a few minutes. He closed his eyes.

Rose's face filled the space behind his eyelids. She smiled sadly at him as though she had been waiting, as though she had known that he had been pushing her to the very back of his mind so as to stay sane, but she couldn't wait any longer. I'm so sorry, he told her. I'm sorry. I don't know how to get back. I can't come back.

He'll hurt my mother.

Her sad face told him that surely he wouldn't. Surely he was not quite that far gone. And even if he would, did he really know where she was? And if he did, wouldn't her new husband protect her? And he thought, what about the child? And head-Rose had no answer to that. He reached under the fur cloak for the pocket of his Hogwarts one, and pulled out the watch. He watched the hands move around the face, listening to the barely-perceptible tick they made with each movement.

I'll freeze to death here before he lets me go back, he realised with a stab to his heart that had nothing to do with cold. He's always hated Hogwarts. The only reason he let me go was because mother wanted it. Thank Merlin, or I would have grown up here.

The thought was a frightening prospect. He imagined himself at the age of eleven, small even for his age, pale, wide-eyed, ignorant of nearly everything in the world outside his parents' house. He remembered his first day of classes at Hogwarts, where a bunch of older Gryffindors had ganged up on him. Chances are that would have happened here too, if not because he was a Malfoy then because he was small and weak and easy prey. And there would have been no Rose to stick up for him. No Albus to speak for him. It would have been a misery. Like it's going to be now.

Eventually he heard the rush of noise again as the Durmstrang boys came back from their dinner. Someone knocked on the door, making him jump, but he made no reply. He realised with a trace of dread that there was no lock on the door, and waited, tensed, for someone to barge in. But no one did, and finally that noise even died away, as people returned to their rooms or the common area Masha had mentioned. The sun was going down, and he felt the darkness come over him like a poisonous shadow. Soon he was left in the pitch black room, fully clothed under the fur cloak, still shivering slightly. The reality of what had happened since that morning - it seemed like years ago, but it had only been hours, only a few hours ago he had been standing with Rose and Albus and Lizzie and Hannah behind the memorial procession, only a few hours ago he had kissed Rose for the last time - began to weigh on him until he could no longer stand it. Tears came unbidden to his eyes and stung his cold cheeks. He thought of the tears on Roses's face, the tears sparkling at the corners of Hannah's eyes as she had said goodbye.

It was over. He had had six years of reprieve, but this was the life he was meant to have had, all along.

Chapter Text

2024

~*-S-*~

"Wake up English!"

Scorpius woke to the sound of someone shouting and banging on his door. For a moment he thought the Scamander twins must have set loose another animal in the Common Room, and now they needed help to catch it again, but then he remembered where he was. He sat up in the tiny room on his hard bed, his four-poster with its velvety blue coverlet miles and miles away.

So that wasn't just a terrible dream I had. I'm really here… at Durmstrang.

"Wake up English! You miss breakfast, harhar!"

With great reluctance, Scorpius burrowed out of the wonderfully warm nest he'd made for himself and clambered out of bed. On the outside the chill was bone-numbing. He was glad he hadn't taken off his shoes or any of his clothes the night before, even if his body felt stiff as a plank of wood. He yanked the door open. "What?"

"Aha, English is here! Thought you run away, harhahar!"

There was a man outside in the corridor. He had to be described as a man, no boy could be quite so huge. Scorpius was no longer short, but this fellow towered above him to an almost Hagrid-like extreme. He was wearing the Durmstrang uniform, which must have been significantly altered to fit him, and a huge grin. "You dress English! Good! Come, food!" He made eating motions with his hand, as though Scorpius were an imbecilic child.

"I'm not hungry," Scorpius said, but then his stomach rumbled and gave him the lie. He hadn't eaten anything since the day before yesterday, he realised dully. No wonder he felt sick and dizzy all of a sudden. The huge boy didn't seem to have understood his protests, however. He pointed at the blank slate on Scorpius' door. "You write name!" he ordered jovially. "Or not find you!" He handed Scorpius a thin stick of white chalk.

Scorpius did not particularly want to write his name on the slate. That would make him part of this place. "What if I don't want people to find me?" he asked, but the boy just pointed and mimed writing. Scorpius sighed. He closed the door behind him and wrote Scorpius in easy-to-read letters. He pointed to it. "Okay?"

The boy frowned at the name. "Scopus?"

Scorpius rubbed his eyes. He was not quite awake enough for this. "Scorpius."

"Scop..ass?"

Scorpius reached up and rubbed off the last three letters with his sleeve.

"Scop?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Close enough."

The boy laughed and pointed to himself. "Arkady!"

Looks like I made a friend, Scorpius thought. "Pleased to meet you, Arkady."

The boy laughed at his pronunciation but did not try to correct it. "Come on, English! Food! Bena send me, bring you."

"It's still dark!"

"No sun, still morning, English! You want breakfast, yes?"

Scorpius was about to refuse again, but he really was pretty hungry. He set his shoulders and followed the boy down the corridor. There were a few other boys in fur cloaks moving back and forth, and they all stared at him curiously. Most were very young, looking quite drowned in their cloaks and hats. It looked like Masha hadn't been lying about this end of the corridor being the rooms for first years.

Arkady led him through the maze, for which he was quite grateful; he knew he would never have found his way otherwise. They came out in a large room with benches crammed together, full of students eating through bowls of hot porridge. There didn't seem to be any kind of system as to where they sat, the only colour being the crimson red of the robes they all wore. Arkady led him to a bench and shoved a bowl in front of him. The benches were hard, and the porridge unremarkable by Hogwarts standards, but Scorpius was suddenly so hungry that he ate it anyway.

The students around them seemed to be Arkady's friends. They chattered to each other in what seemed to be Russian for a few minutes while Scorpius ladled the food into his mouth. It didn't taste of much, but it warmed him deliciously from the inside.

"English," one of Arkady's friends said eventually, and Scorpius glanced up to see they were all looking at him. The other boys were all normal sized compared to Arkady, but they were all tall and beefy-looking. Scorp wondered if he'd accidentally been inducted into a gang. "We don't get any English here."

Scorpius swallowed his porridge. "Not any?"

"English go to Hogwarts," said another boy. "Speak you Norwegian, English?"

Scorpius shook his head, and they all laughed. "I speak French," he said, defensively.

"You do good charming then," the same boy sniggered.

"You mean Charms?"

"Yes yes, charming." He switched to French, which was only a little better than his English. "We have Charms in French. Potions in English. Everything else you going to fail, English boy."

"Thanks," Scorpius said dryly.

Unfortunately, however, it turned out that Arkady and his friends had good reason to laugh.

They had just enough time after breakfast for Arkady to show him the bathroom and then show him back to his room so he could change into his Durmstrang uniform. He explained the rules about the uniform, an explanation of which Scorpius understood about one word in three, but the gist of it seemed to be that they had to wear the uniform all the time, hats and all, except when they were in the common area or their own rooms. Scorpius thought he could probably deal with that. The fur hat was the only thing stopping his ears from freezing solid, after all.

There didn't seem to be individual timetables for anyone. The classes were Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Astronomy, Herbology and Dark Arts. Scorpius hoped against hope that the 'Defence' being left out was a mistake in translation. "Seven NEWTs?" he asked, grimacing.

Arkady laughed. "Too much for you, English?" They had resorted to speaking in French, since Arkady's English was just a tad above incomprehensible.

"At Hogwarts we only do four or five."

Arkady shrugged. "Have to learn seven. Hardly ever pass seven. Maybe pass four or five. At the end, same thing."

Scorpius found himself imagining the look on Rose's face if she was told she was expected to fail at least two NEWTs. Then he mentally slapped himself. You can't think about Rose. Not now.

The first class was Charms, which was indeed, in French. However it turned out that Scorpius was not quite as practiced with that language as he thought he was, after two years of not speaking it at all, and it might have been in gibberish for all he understood of it. He stumbled through the answers to the questions put to him by the dour French Professor, who at about six and a half feet tall could not have been less Flitwick-like if he had tried, and ended up with a pile of homework to determine his level of Charms 'efficiency'.

If he thought that was bad, it was nothing to what the rest of the day had to offer. The rest of the classes were in Norweigan or Russian. They gave him a translation spell, a crystal ball-sized half-sphere that deciphered and displayed the Professors' words as they spoke them, but it was not very accurate. And he couldn't read that and copy from the board at the same time, as he was meant to be doing. And the writing on the board was barely recognisable as language to him, anyway.

Rose's mum was right, he thought dourly as they made their way to Potions, the last class of the day, just as the sun was finally starting to come out from behind the mountain. I'm screwed.

The Potions teacher was a middle-aged woman called Professor Eggletine. Arkady pronounced her name Eggeltin, but she smiled widely when Scorpius was introduced and shook his hand. "Very pleased to meet you, Mr Malfoy," she said, in English so obviously her first language that Scorpius could have kissed her in relief. "I hope you will enjoy my class."

"I haven't done Potions in nearly a year," Scorpius explained. "I was doing Mu - something else, instead." At the last moment he remembered that Durmstrang did not even admit Muggleborn students. He didn't want to make an enemy of the only possible tie to home he had found.

"Ah, well," the woman said, pleasantly. "I'm sure you'll catch up. I shall give you some extra reading."

"Joy," Scorpius muttered to himself. By the end of the day he had a pile of homework so high he could scarcely carry it all, and one subject out of seven in English. As soon as he got back to his room he was on the verge of throwing the books across it in a fit of rage and frustration. Instead he dumped it all on the floor and collapsed hard on the bed, ignoring all Arkady's attempts to get him to come to the common area. He was stuck here all right, but he didn't have to like it. He'd just stay here, in his little prison room. There was no point in going to classes he could never hope to understand.

After dinner, which Scorpius refused to attend even though his stomach was sending him serious warning signals, Masha came to fetch him. When he ignored her knocks, she opened the door anyway. "Professor Reznicek wants to see you," she said.

"Well I don't much fancy seeing him," Scorpius told her. "I'm sick of this place already, and any conversation with him is unlikely to improve my mood."

The ever-present smile faded completely off Masha's face. "You do not want to make Professor Reznicek angry," she said seriously.

Scorpius found himself remembering the eerie way the old Headmaster had not even looked around when Draco had hit Scorpius in the face, yesterday. The man was no McGonagall, that was for sure. "What can he do to me?" he said boldly. "Seriously? I'm stuck here, miles away from my friends, my teachers, any chance of passing my NEWTs, my music, my band… there is literally nothing else he can take away. Tell him to go stuff it."

Masha frowned. "I will tell him, but you will not like the answer."

"Colour me terrified," Scorpius said, and turned his back to her.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew there were hands dragging him out of bed. He reached for his wand, missed, tried to yell and found a hand over his mouth and a wand to his throat. There were two of them, boys almost as big as Arkady, and together they dragged him out of the room and up the corridor past the rows of sleeping students. He tried kicking out at them but they took the kicks and paid no mind. One of them made a loud grunting noise, but the other whispered at him in an unrecognisable language and after that they walked in silence. At least Scorpius had been sleeping in his uniform, fur cloak and all. That was one blessing he counted himself.

They half-carried him into Reznicek's office and dumped him unceremoniously in the chair opposite the desk. Reznicek leaned forward and steepled his fingers, looking curiously at Scorpius as though he hadn't had to be bodily dragged there. "What is this I hear," Reznicek said, in cold French. "You refuse to come when I ask for you?"

Scorpius shrugged. "I didn't much see the -"

"Did I say you could speak?" Reznicek almost shouted it, but Scorpius kept his face schooled still. "Your Professors assure me you are incapable. This will not do. I do not know what soft life you are used to at Hogwarts, but at Durmstrang we prepare you. We strive towards excellence in all things. This is including discipline."

"How am I supposed to be excellent when I don't understand anything they say?" Scorpius demanded. That was not quite right, he knew, but his French was rusty. "The translation spell is terrible -"

"Five," the old man hissed threateningly. Scorpius had no idea what he meant, so he wasn't sure how he should react. "If you had started here as a boy you would have learned what language you needed to know. Since you chose to come here late you must work all the harder to -"

"I didn't CHOOSE TO COME HERE!" Scorpius yelled, half getting out of his chair, but one of the goons standing behind him grabbed his shoulder and forced him back into it.

"Thats fifteen," the man said bitingly. "Don't make me add more."

Fifteen what? Scorpius wondered, but sat still and sullen. This man had nothing on McGonagall's beady-eyed glare. It was going to take more than an ugly look to scare Scorpius Malfoy.

"You will learn respect," Reznicek told him, learning forward for emphasis. "The next time I ask for you, you shall come immediately, is that clear?"

Scorpius remained silent for a minute until he realised he was meant to answer. "Yes, sir."

"You will do better in your classes, or you shall be punished."

"But I -"

"Twenty," the man growled. "You will learn not to interrupt me or talk back. Hold out your hand."

Scorpius frowned, confused, but held his right hand out after only a moment's hesitation. He realised he probably should have known better as soon as the Headmaster drew his wand and flicked it, whip-like, across Scorpius' palm. He felt a sharp, stinging pain and drew his hand back with a gasp. There was a thick red line across his palm, already fading but still stinging. He bit his lip and shook his hand out, resisting the urge to ask what the hell he thought he was doing. It was quite clear that he knew what he was doing, and was all too used to doing it.

"Your hand," the man demanded. Scorpius took a long step back, and found himself almost colliding with the red-robed goons who had dragged him up here. "You earned twenty," Reznicek reminded him, turning his wand around in his fingers. "Shall I add five more? I can have Polikov and Karenin here hold your hand for you, if you insist."

Scorpius realised he had no choice. Hating and cursing the man with every thought in his mind, he held out his hand again. This time he did not pull back at the pain, but swallowed it with as much courage as he could manage. At twelve strokes, the curse broke the skin, and after that every stroke was like a knife digging in. He could not hold back a groan of pain for the last three, by which point his hand was dripping blood onto the carpet.

"You may return to your room," Reznicek said when it was finally over, and Scorpius cradled his bleeding hand with the other. "I hope you will think on what I have said."

Scorpius could not have been more pleased to leave. He expected the goons to take him back to his room, but they wandered off, no doubt to their own beds, without even a word to him. Scorpius walked in the opposite direction, but it became very clear very soon that he would not be able to find his way back. He stopped and leaned against a wall, muttering swear words under his breath as his hand screamed pain at him. He had to get back to his wand so he could do a healing spell, though how he was going to manage that with his left hand was beyond him at the moment.

Once he caught his breath he set off again. He took a familiar-looking turn to find himself in a corridor with names on the doors, but it was not his corridor. The doors were much better spaced. He realised he must be in the upstairs rooms where the older students lived. He did the only thing he could think to do and started searching the slates for Arkady's name.

It seemed to take an age. Durmstrang had at least as many students as Hogwarts, and that was a lot of rooms to search. In the end he almost went past it, until a noise from upstairs made him jump, and by chance as he turned back his gaze caught the right door. He knocked with his left hand, wincing. He heard a grunting sound from within, and a deep voice muttering something in Russian. Probably asking who the hell was knocking on his door in the middle of the night, Scorpius thought. "Arkady, it's me," he said in French.

The door opened, and Arkady stared down at him. The boy was wearing thick woollen pyjamas and socks. When Scorpius held out his bleeding hand, he did not look at all shocked, or even surprised. He only nodded, and stood aside to let him in.

Arkady's room was huge compared with his own. There was a desk, a wardrobe, even a bedside table. The bed was, while not a four poster, much longer and wider than the one in Scorpius' room and there was a thick red blanket on it. There was even a rug on the cold stone floor. Arkady sat him in the desk chair, shaking his head, and grabbed a potion off the shelf. "What's that do?" Scorpius asked nervously.

"Will help with pain," Arkady said. He uncorked the vial and let a single drop fall onto Scorpius' palm. His hand went quite numb almost instantly. "You need that to sleep," Arkady said knowingly. "Do not heal. He will know, will only happen again."

"But I can't even hold a wand," Scorpius protested.

"Stupid English give him wand hand," Arkady sighed. "Next time give left."

Scorpius stared up at his new friend, who towered above him even sitting on the bed. "Next time?"

"You going to be good now?" Arkady asked, raising an imperious eyebrow. "Be the good boy, do everything right?"

Scorpius couldn't help but go slightly red at that. "Er… I wasn't exactly planning on it, but… anyway he wants me to be magically fluent in Russian, and I can't -"

"Then yes, next time."

"Arkady…" Scorpius almost didn't want to ask, but part of him deep down was just longing to know, "you don't… seem very surprised…"

The huge boy held up his left hand. There was a barely imperceptible scar there, across his palm. "Happen to everyone. Well… more boys. Girls much gooder, not get hit so much. One of Headmaster favourite punishment. You don't want to know the others."

No, Scorpius thought. I really, really don't.

~*-S-*~

Dear R & A

I'm going to start writing a letter even though I can't figure out a way to send one yet. There's no owlery here, and everyone who has an owl refuses to lend me one to go all the way to England. I guess some of them must get lost or die of cold up here.

I still haven't seen Durmstrang from the outside yet. It's cold enough inside, you'd have to be bonkers to just wander on outside for a stroll. We even have Herbology inside, in a special heated room. Best room in the whole bloody place, if you ask me. Herbology is fast becoming my favourite subject, bet you never thought you'd hear me say that. Anyway I'm told it's a castle, there aren't as many floors as Hogwarts but there are enough corridors to make you dizzy. Remember how long it took us to get the hang of all Hogwarts' disappearing staircases and hidden passageways and so on? I don't think I'll ever know my way around here. There's no decoration, so one corridor looks pretty much the same as the other. I never thought I'd miss the talking portraits. I think there are more students here than there are at Hogwarts. They seem to come from all over, even if there aren't any Muggleborns.

You'll be glad to know I'm not completely friendless. My mate Arkady keeps me sane even though his English isn't great. His friends think he's mad, but I guess the Head Girl told him to look after me on the first day and he just kept doing it. It's been a week and a half now and he hasn't got sick of me so I guess that's a good sign.

I miss you both, and everyone. I hope C and the others weren't too angry. Please tell them I am still writing and I'm listening to the wireless when I can get something to play on it. The mountain plays havoc with the signal. It also plays havoc with the sun . It's dark from evening till afternoon, here, I'm still not used to it. Imagine having to eat lunch in candlelight!

R's mum was right, by the way. I am almost certainly going to fail all my exams at the end of this year. I don't even want to think about NEWTs. The translation spell they've given me is terrible. I found a decent one in the library that is rewriting my new textbooks as we speak, and that helps a little. I tune out entirely through most of the lessons, then after dinner I stay up late and read from the books. I'm doing all right at Charms and Transfiguration, because Charms is in French and at least the spells are still all the same, and I think Professor Davies was a bit ahead of the curriculum. They've only just started Human Transfiguration here so I'm okay. But I have to do History of Magic , and I have never failed so badly at anything ever in my life as I did in the surprise test they gave us yesterday. I think I got a zero but I still have no idea what the Professor said, honestly.

R. I miss you. I'm sorry for all this. I promise that one day in the future I will make it up to you.

Loving you, always,

~*-S-*~

Someone knocked on the door, loudly. He jerked awake and realised that he had fallen asleep over his books. Somehow the ink pot had knocked over and spilled all over the bed and the floor. He swore and pushed away the pile of clothes he used to keep him warm at night. "Coming!"

It was Arkady. "You miss Herbology," he said, his expression serious.

Scorpius swore again. "I must have forgot my alarm spell. Let me guess, Reznicek wants to see me?"

"I said you were sick."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You come to lunch now?"

Scorpius rubbed his eyes. "Damnit. Okay. Just let me charm the ink out of my robes."

He almost fell asleep over his potato dumplings. Arkady kept having to nudge him in the ribs. "English, you don't look so good," the large boy told him.

"Thanks," Scorpius muttered. He was aware he did not look good. The last time he had bothered to look in a mirror he had been paler than he might have thought physically possible, his hair was lank and dull and he had dark circles under his eyes. 'Staying up late' was an understatement. He hardly slept at all these days. The translation spell he had found was working away at the books, but he had to catch up on nearly a year's worth of Herbology, Astronomy, Potions and History of Magic. The class they called Dark Arts… well he was doing his best, but it wasn't much like Defence Against the Dark Arts at all. Professor Tufty had always concentrated on the theory behind defensive spells, shields, countercurses. Here they learned in-depth theory behind the curses themselves. They made out that it was for self-defence, but Scorp honestly didn't see in what circumstances he would ever have to use a blasting curse on another human being. Professor Tufty probably would have had him expelled if he'd ever tried that one, in class or out of it.

It had been a week or so since he had written the letter, and still hadn't found a way to send it. Arkady had said most people kept in contact with home by making Floo calls from the Headmaster's office, on a schedule. But to get on the schedule, you had to be in the Headmaster's good books. Not to mention any conversation he might have over Floo might just be reported to his father.

Scorpius was definitely not in the Headmaster's good books. He had been called to the office four more times since that night, and had thirty more strokes to his hand. He had taken Arkady's advice and offered the left one, this time, so that for two days he had had two almost-useless hands, and had accidentally turned a classmate's head temporarily into a pumpkin in Transfiguration. Luckily that little incident hadn't reached Reznicek yet. The right hand had healed over now though, though the scab itched annoyingly when he used a quill or a wand. That part he had quite deliberately not included in the letter. He didn't want anyone, Rose especially, to have to worry.

After breakfast, Arkady and his mates dragged Scorp to History of Magic, where he took in absolutely nothing even with the assistance of the translated textbook. As the class ended and they spilled out into the corridor, he was only vaguely aware of some people around them chattering excitedly. Arkady's friend Euan went to find out what was going on, but Scorpius didn't pay much notice. He was thinking about how much reading he still had to do. Perhaps he could take one night off. It might be worth the pain in his hand just to get some proper sleep.

The excitement around them grew as they went down to dinner, as outside the windows the sun finally came out from behind the mountain. Euan came back and gave the boys an enthusiastic speech of which Scorpius understood not a single word. He sat down and ladled potatoes onto his plate as people around him stood up to see over the tables, as if looking for someone.

Suddenly the main door opened and Reznicek came in, leading a stocky middle-aged man with a large curved nose, a neat black goatee and thick dark eyebrows. Nearly everyone seemed quite excited by his arrival. Some people even cheered. The man smiled and waved them down, chatting amiably with Reznicek as they came to sit down. The teachers at Durmstrang hardly ever ate with the students, unlike Hogwarts, and Scorpius had never seen Reznicek even in the dining hall. The Headmaster was clearly trying to make a good impression. "All right, I give up," Scorpius sighed as Arkady and Euan punched each other excitedly on the shoulder and whispered excitedly. "Who is it?"

"You don't know, English?" Euan demanded, taken aback. "Is Krum."

"Who?"

"Viktor Krum," Arkady clarified, leaving Scorp none the wiser. "Is big Quidditch star. Used to play for Bulgaria, now coach Russian team. You not know?"

Scorpius frowned. The name did ring a bell, but Albus went on about a lot of Quidditch players. "What's he here for?"

"He was student here," Euan explained. "Maybe looking for new players!"

Scorp knew that Durmstrang had four Quidditch teams, but since there were no Houses the players could and did move between teams. Arkady himself had played for three teams, having been bribed by each team after showing his prowess on the pitch. Scorpius hadn't even seen the pitch yet, since he refused to go outside. How they played in such conditions he had no idea - though the snow had largely melted over the last week, the cold was still penetrating.

"Better get over there then," he said encouragingly, before going back to his dinner.

People crowded around the newcomer for the better part of an hour. Their conversation was loud, it rang in his ears and made his head spin. He forced himself to eat, hating every mouthful.

He just wanted…

What. His old life back? Obviously. But if he couldn't have that, he wanted something more. He wanted more than trying to pass classes he had never thought to take again. He wanted more than sleepless nights and food that turned to sawdust in his mouth. He wanted to sleep without dreaming of what he had lost. He wanted for one moment to have some peace, to be warm, to sit with the sun on his face and hear some damn birds sing. Or better yet, to have his guitar in his hands, to feel the strings under his fingers, to feel the music thrum through his wrist and up his arm. He wanted that feeling back. The feeling he was worth something. That he could make something worthwhile. This, this wasn't life, as much as it might look it from the outside. Durmstrang was wearing him down. If it was a game, the score would be 200 to Durmstrang, Scorpius Malfoy, zero.

He wanted his friends back. He wanted to jam with the band and argue about names with Cleo. Trevor had been teaching him the keyboard. He even wanted to see Dave, weird little squib that he was. He wanted to talk Quidditch with Albus, and to annoy him by chattering on about a new Muggle song. He wanted to give Alice a cuddle and play for a crowd at the Leaky Cauldron, and he wanted a hug from Hannah. He wanted Neville to be proud of him. And more than anythinghe wanted to see Rose, to know she was okay, to hold her in his arms and feel that she was real, to smell her hair and kiss her lips and -

Someone scraped back the bench he was sitting on, jolting him out of his daydream. He grit his teeth and pushed his plate away. He had promised himself he wouldn't think about her like that - it was too painful - but somehow he just kept on doing it. He shook his head and got up, planning on going back to his room. At least now he knew his way around most of the castle. It was easier now that you could actually see things out of the window, and he had most of the turns from the dining hall and his classes memorised.

"English!" Arkady was running up to him.

Scorpius sighed. "Mate, I'm tired, I think I'll just -"

"Krum! Arkady hissed. "He wants to talk to you."

Scorpius blinked. "Huh?" He looked over to where Krum was chatting to a group of fifth year girls. The man didn't even look in their direction. "Er… you sure?"

"Oh yes. He ask me to bring you - we go now to the pit, yes?"

"Pitch," Scorpius corrected. "Wait, why does he want to see me? How does he even know who I am? And why out there?" He shuddered at the thought of leaving the castle, and Arkady rolled his eyes.

"Just come."

Reluctantly, Scorpius followed Arkady out of the castle and onto the Quidditch pitch, where a few hopefuls were already readying their brooms. The cold was not quite as bad as Scorp had expected; perhaps he was acclimatising at last, or perhaps summer was finally starting to get an edge on what passed for spring here. Still he put his hands deep inside his fur cloak and pulled his hat down low over his ears as Arkady ran for his broomstick. After a while a larger group came out of the castle with Krum himself. Reznicek, Scorp noticed, had elected to stay inside. Suddenly he wondered if that was why Krum wanted to speak to him out here.

Krum waved the hopefuls into the air and barked a few instructions at them. They started flying laps. Some of the onlookers who had come out with Krum sat below them at the low end of the stands, chattering excitedly. Krum went to sit as well, a little way apart from his groupies. Scorpius, not knowing what else to do, went up to him. "Bonjour," he tried, guessing at French for their common language. "Arkady said you wanted to speak to me? Sir," he added, not sure of the correct form of address for an ex-Durmstrang Quidditch coach. Reznicek was very keen on that sort of thing, and he didn't want Krum reporting him for insolence.

Krum smiled crookedly at him and returned his gaze to the fliers. "Scorpius Malfoy?" he asked, without looking at him.

"Yes sir."

"Sit down." He said it in English, heavily accented but still. Scorpius sat beside him, surprised. "In my day we had a Headmaster who was not such a…" he frowned as if searching for the right words, his eyes constantly following the red-robed figures on their brooms.

"Git?" Scorpius suggested. It was a risk, but he had a feeling Krum didn't mean him any harm.

Krum laughed. It was a deep, barking sort of laugh. "Karkaroff was a…. you would say, bully… but this man…"

Something clicked in Scorpius' brain. "I do know you!" he said, suddenly feeling more awake than he had in days. "You were the Durmstrang champion during the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts! It was in our Recent Wizarding History Class, about the Tournament, and how You-Know-Who rigged it so Harry Potter would win and that was the night he came back -"

"Not a good night for anyone," Krum agreed, suddenly looking very grim indeed. "A long time ago now, though." He gestured into the air. "Your friend flies well."

"Yeah," Scorpius agreed. He could see Arkady easily amongst the fliers, a figure twice the size of the others. "He's a Keeper. Are you really here recruiting?" It was probably impolite, but Arkady would want him to ask. What is it with me and aspiring Quidditch stars? he wondered. If Al was here he'd had been up there before you could say jump. Then again, maybe he wouldn't have - Scorp doubted Al would settle for the Russian side when he could play for England. Before he had left there had been a recruiter at one of the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff games, reportedly watching James, and Scorpius had no doubt Al would be next.

Krum was silent for a while, watching as the fliers fell into a three dimensional figure eight. Then he said, "that is one reason."

"And the other one?"

"A friend asked me to make sure you were well."

Scorpius blinked and turned to stare at him. "A… friend?" For one brief, heart-stopping moment he wondered if the man meant his father. But that was stupid. His father no doubt got regular reports from Reznicek, if he even cared to read them.

"Hermione Weasley. I met her at Hogwarts. We keep in touch." Rose's mum. Scorpius could have sung. "She asked me to be discreet."

"Oh." He looked back up at Arkady's circling form, feeling guilty.

"It is not entirely a cover story," Krum chuckled. It had the same strange barking quality as his laugh. "We do need new blood in the reserves."

"Oh. Good." Scorpius wasn't sure how he felt about getting Arkady and the others' hopes up for his sake.

"At least I see you are alive. But you look ill."

"It's hard to sleep here," Scorp said shortly. "Too cold."

"Ha. I hear that. If it helps I think it was a very bad winter." Another one of those thoughtful pauses. "Hermione said you might not be able to write to your friends."

Scorpius flushed, pulling his hat down further against a vicious breeze that blew across the back of his neck. "It's… complicated. I have a letter, but…" he looked up at Krum, eyes wide as an idea gave his heart a tiny boost of hope. "Could you take it?" he asked breathlessly.

"Of course. I will send it with my reply. Make sure it puts minds to rest. I don't much like coming here. There are bad memories for me."

And I hear that, Scorpius thought, as he ran back to the castle for the letter. He wondered if coming to Hogwarts had been as confusing and miserable for Krum as coming to Durmstrang had been for him. But then, Krum hadn't been alone, and Krum had known he would come back. At least the man spoke English, though he supposed as coach of an International team, he would have to.

He kept the letter in the magical sealed box his father had sent him for Christmas a few years ago. He had never needed a use for it until now. He almost regretted not bringing anything from Hogwarts in it, since his father would not have been able to look inside without Scorpius' wand. But at the time it had seemed too risky. What was to stop Draco taking Scorpius' wand, or forcing Scorpius to open the box himself?

For now, however, the letter was the only thing he really didn't want anyone to find. Back in his room, he pulled the box off the shelf and fit his wand into the round keyhole. It clicked, and he pulled up the lid and grabbed the letter. He shut the box and then, as an afterthought, grabbed a pair of gloves from his trunk. As he came back onto the pitch, the players were just landing to pick up some Quaffles, and Scorpius handed the gloves to Arkady. "What for?" the huge boy asked him, eyebrows knitting together in a confused frown since the gloves were easily three sizes too small for him.

"Just take them," Scorpius said, "I'll explain later." And if Reznick asks, that was my reason for going and coming back, he thought triumphantly as he sat back down next to Krum and passed him the letter where it couldn't be seen from the castle windows. Then he sat down to watch the rest of the flying, and for the first time, he didn't even feel the cold.

Take that, Durmstrang. Scorpius Malfoy finally scores a point.

Chapter Text

2024

~*-R-*~

"Rose! Wake up sweetheart!"

Rose groaned and pulled the covers over her head. They were pulled back again before she could protest. "Happy birthday!" her mother announced cheerfully, pulling back the curtains and letting painfully bright light spill into the room.

"Mu-um!"

"Rose, it's nearly ten. You've had a nice sleep, but I need you to help me with the food for the party."

Rose, reluctantly, made herself sit up, her hair springing maddeningly over her face. She pushed it back, glad there was no one else there to see. She was not one of those girls who could wake up looking presentable. "Mum, I still don't know if I really want…"

"Don't be silly, dear. Everyone's coming at one o'clock, do you want to me to have to owl them all and tell them you've changed your mind? Come on, up you get."

Rose sighed. Today she turned seventeen. She came of age in the wizarding world. It was supposed to be an exciting day, a day to celebrate with family and friends, and she knew she was extra lucky that her birthday fell during the summer holidays, so she could share it with her parents and the rest of her family. She had been looking forward to this for months. But if she was truly honest with herself, the last thing she wanted was a birthday party now.

The last few weeks of school had been utterly miserable. Word of Scorpius' sudden disappearance had spread around Hogwarts like Fiendfyre, and she was forced to endure either sympathetic words that she didn't want to hear, or people whispering behind her back. She could barely concentrate through all her exams. When she slept she had nightmares of terrible things happening to him, of him being cornered and cursed down by faceless figures in black.

"He's just changed schools," Albus said reasonably when she brought this up with him. "It's not like he's been inducted into a cult, or anything. I'm sure he's fine." Rose was less than satisfied with that answer. She knew her cousin was only trying to make her feel better, but she wished he wouldn't. What she really needed was to talk to Scorpius, to know, for sure, that he was still out there somewhere, and that he was okay.

Her mother at least, having seen how upset she was on memorial day, had made an effort. About two weeks before school ended, a letter had arrived, enclosed with one from her mother which read,

I have had my friend Viktor check on Scorpius, and he assures me that he is doing quite well.

And the letter, Scorpius' letter, helped a little.

"See," Al said, when he had read it. "Told you he was fine."

Rose wasn't so sure, however. She didn't like the way he talked about his classes, about staying up late just so he could catch up on them. It wasn't as though he was at all stupid. He was one of the smartest people in their year. And he hadn't written any names, only initials, so maybe, and it seemed likely, he was being watched. And there was the fact that the letter itself was dated nearly two weeks old, so who knows what might have happened since then?

There was something odd about his handwriting as well; where it was usually so neat and flowing it was somehow stiff. Ever since she could remember, since the first day of school when she had sat next to him in Transfiguration, he had had perfect handwriting. It worried her. Still, she kept the letter with her all the time, just so that whenever she wanted she could read the words at the end, the ones he had written just for her.

R. I miss you. I'm sorry for all this. I promise that one day in the future I will make it up to you.

Loving you, always.

The day that letter had come she had cast a strong silencing charm on her four-poster bed and cried herself to sleep. After that she no longer felt like welling up every time she saw or heard something that reminded her of him. There were no tears left to come.

She pushed back the covers with great reluctance and crawled out of bed. She had a new dress for the party, bought by owl order in March. She had been excited about it at the time, but now it seemed ridiculously frivolous. She pulled it on and looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was dark blue with a slight sparkle around the hem. It was beautiful, but she still looked a wreck. She did some quick charms on her face to hide the dark circles under her eyes and add some colour to her pallid skin. Then she spent twenty minutes combing and charming the tangles out of her hair and pinning it neatly back. After that she felt almost ready to face the world, but she still had to take a couple of deep breaths before finally leaving her room.

"There's the birthday girl!" her father exclaimed when she came down the stairs. He gave her a hug and a kiss. She hugged him back, gratefully. She loved her dad, even if he could be very stubborn and unreasonable about some things. He had been very quiet on memorial day after Scorpius had left, hanging back and letting her mother comfort her. Since they had come home for the summer holidays, he had not said a single word about Scorpius, and she wondered if he was pretending the whole thing had never happened. Still, at least he hadn't tried to talk her out of it, like Uncle George had before they were even together. She still remembered that particular conversation with a twinge of anger.

"I know he might seem harmless now," her uncle had said. "But you need to understand the sort of people he comes from."

"Scorp isn't like that," she had said, shocked.

"Some things are built into people," George had said, seriously. He ran a hand through his hair and she had seen, for a second, the scar on the side of his head where his ear used to be. He wore his hair long to cover it, so that you could almost forget it was even there. "I just worry about you, especially now you're all a little older…"

"We're not seeing each other," she had snapped. "And if we were, I wouldn't care about that."

But Scorp cares, she thought, for the hundredth time as she poured jelly mixture into moulds in the shape of broomsticks and Snitches. He cares, or he wouldn't have left.

But he had to leave, said the other voice, the one that always seemed to pop up every time she had this one-sided argument with herself. His father's his guardian.

He could have said no, said the first voice. He could have refused. Neville and McGonagall would have backed him up. It might have taken months for the French Ministry to do anything about it, and maybe if Scorp talked to them and told them why he didn't want to go, they wouldn't have made him. But he went, anyway.

She was so caught up in her internal monologue that she almost spilled the jelly over the edge of the mould. "Careful," her mother said, flicking the overflow back into the jug with her wand. "Why are you so clumsy lately?" She said it kindly, but Rose felt guilty anyway. It was true that she hadn't been much help since school ended. She spent most of her time in her room, supposedly doing her homework. She found she spent more time daydreaming than actually working. When she did try to help with dusting or washing up, she tended to space out and drop things.

"You can use your wand, if you like," her father reminded her. "You are seventeen now, after all."

"Thanks Dad, I hadn't realised that yet," she said, smiling weakly at him.

"Why don't you go outside and help your brother with the tables," her mother suggested. "The Potters will be here any minute; Ginny can help me with the dessert.

Go on."

Rose sighed and went outside. It was a nice day for it. The sun was shining and the earth was firm underfoot, even in a garden where a slight shower could turn the downward slope into a mudslide. The slope was what was causing Hugo so much trouble putting the tables up. Rose set her shoulders, put Scorpius out of her mind as best she could, drew her wand, and went to help.

~*-R-*~

The Potters came early, at about eleven, and Weasleys started filtering in not long after. Teddy and Victoire came with Bill, Fleur and Louis - Dominique hadn't been able to get time off work. George and Angelina came with Roxie and Fred, who like James were still waiting on their NEWT results. Neither James nor Fred were too worried, however, as they had both been approached by a recruiter for the Chudley Cannons after the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw final.

That game was still being talked about. The Gryffindor Beaters, Fred especially, had been on their best form ever, taking out both Benjy, the Ravenclaw Keeper and Janey, their best Beater, in the first ten minutes, leaving Ravenclaw with two reserves and two hundred points down. There had been three near-misses with the Snitch, two of which had been heart-stopping chases between Albus and James; Al on the Phoenixer which once nearly threw him clean off with its enthusiasm. At least that was how Al had described it afterwards. "It's a broom with personality," he had said, as Ravenclaw nursed their bruises. Gryffindor had won in the end, James performing a death-defying dive that set the crowd to roaring, and far too far away for Albus to catch him in time. Still, everyone agreed it had been a fantastic game. Roxie had scored two hundred out of Gryffindor's four hundred and fifty points by herself. She was not waiting for an offer from the Cannons, though. She intended on trying out for the Holyhead Harpies, Ginny's old team, in the autumn.

Fred was trying out dreadlocks. They suited him, though the way he kept tossing them back over his shoulder set Rose's teeth on edge. The littlest things were liable to irritate her lately. She sat between Hugo and Albus and tried to enjoy herself as guests continued to arrive. Molly and Lucy arrived with their parents, Percy looking as though he hadn't slept much recently. As Deputy Minister he had taken on a lot of Shacklebolt's duties as well as his own, and Shacklebolt still wasn't fully recovered, despite everyone's best hopes. Rose saw Percy exchange a serious-looking conversation with her dad before Hermione forced them to put work aside and join in the festivities.

Neville, Hannah and Lizzie arrived, bringing Belinda with them, and to everyone's surprise, Lizzie's brother Tony. Everyone immediately wanted to know what it was like being a Cursebreaker in Africa, and even Rose cheered up for a while, listening to Tony's stories - which were, everyone agreed, thrilling - and watching Molly drool over him. He was very good looking, Rose thought, having grown entirely out of the moody phase he had gone through as a teenager. He had been in the year above Molly, and she had never mentioned fancying him before now, but Rose could hardly blame her. The guy was fit. Not that I was looking, she said to herself, feeling oddly guilty.

Uncle Bill, a retired Cursebreaker, pummelled the poor young man with questions, but he didn't seem to mind, grinning occasionally in a way that was so like Neville's it was almost unnerving. Hannah kept touching him as if to reassure herself that he was still there. "I panic every month I don't get an owl," she said, patting his hair like a child. "He promises to write more from now, don't you Anthony?"

"Yes mum," Tony said meekly.

"So grown up," Victoire teased him. "I remember when you were a teensy little first year. Don't you, Teddy?"

"I remember him being a pain," Teddy nodded.

"Oi," Tony muttered. "You're not my Head Boy anymore, Lupin. Bet I could take you."

"Don't count on it," Bill said, cheerfully. "Our Teddy's got moves."

Our Teddy, Rose thought. No one had complained when Teddy and Victoire started going out. He had been around so long that it was almost a kind of natural progression. No one, not even Uncle Bill, ever told Teddy he wasn't good enough for his daughter. And Teddy and Scorpius were related. It just wasn't fair.

She wasn't being much fun, plagued by all these gloomy thoughts, but luckily at that point her grandparents arrived. They were her dad's parents, of course. Her Muggle grandparents were rarely seen at family events, finding the onslaught of Weasleys and magical conversation too overwhelming, but Molly and Arthur never missed one. Her Gran gave her a cuddle and a pile of presents, and Grandpa Arthur got all choked up, patting her with a hand that shook slightly, saying he couldn't believe how grown up she was. On top of that, they brought her Uncle Charlie with them, whom she hadn't even seen since his last visit three years ago. By the time dinner was served, with her Gran's help - despite Hermione's protests that she and Ginny could manage - Rose was actually feeling quite cheerful, and thinking that perhaps the party hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

And then Al's new girlfriend showed up. Rose could see Lizzie very carefully averting her eyes as her cousin got up to let Cleo through the gate and kiss her (politely) in greeting. She had to be introduced to everyone, of course, and the girl didn't seem at all phased by the extended family.

Rose knew she didn't have any right to be annoyed. Al had asked her - very carefully - if Cleo could come, and she had said yes, of course. After all, she had nothing against Cleo. As such. Al had started dating her not long after breaking the news that the band's guitarist had been shipped off to Durmstrang against his will.

Cleo had changed the purple stripes in her hair to blue since the last time Rose had seen her, and was wearing an even shorter skirt. Trust her to be fashionably late, Rose thought as she forced a smile onto her face and accepted Cleo's hug. She wasn't sure what it was that bugged her so much about the girl. She was perfectly nice, in a devil-may-care sort of way. Maybe it was just that she felt bad for Lizzie. She certainly wasn't jealous of all the time Scorpius had spent with her on the last few weekends after his seventeenth birthday. Certainly not.

"Dad," Albus said, waving his father over. "This is Cleo."

"Harry Potter," Cleo exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief as Al's dad held out a welcoming hand. "Inever thought I would get to meet you. You are like… my total hero."

Rose saw her uncle smile, but it was that forced kind of smile he got when people said that sort of thing to him. "This is my mum," Albus continued, and Cleo shook Ginny's hand with somewhat less enthusiasm. "Do you… live nearby?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, not really, but I can Apparate," Cleo said, shrugging.

Rose thought she heard her aunt muttering "of course you can."

Cleo and Lily, on the other hand, got on like a house on fire, which Rose could tell was slightly worrying to her aunt Ginny. Her aunt was usually very open minded about most things, but it was pretty clear that she was wary of Cleo's wild girl influence on her children. Hugo didn't help. Rose had to kick him twice under the table when he started staring at the girl's skin-tight top.

"Is that it?" Hermione asked breathlessly, poking her head out of the door. "Is everyone here?"

Rose found herself looking up the road. A small part of her, a part she hadn't dared speak aloud or even think to herself, still hoped.

"You okay?" Al asked quietly, so that only she could hear.

She turned back to the table and nodded. "Fine."

He frowned. "Look, I know he said he was going to come…"

"He promised he was going to come," Rose said. "But that was before." She forced a smile onto her face and helped her mother lower a tray of burgers onto the table.

Hermione was from the Molly Weasley school of cooking, which meant the food was good and there was plenty to go around. There were burgers and chips, chicken skewers and two big salad bowls. Dessert was jelly and ice cream and a two-tiered birthday cake baked by Rose's Gran herself. It was layered chocolate and vanilla with white icing, decorated with little roses around the base of both tiers, and seventeen candles. "It's beautiful, Gran," Rose said after she had blown them out to a chorus of the traditionally out-of-tune rendition of Happy Birthday.

"Tish tosh dear," Molly said happily. "With all of you away at school all year I hardly ever get to bake a special cake anymore."

After cake came presents. There were a great deal of books. There was Quidditch gear, including a new broom from the Potters, an antique chess set, some clothes, and a white-gold necklace from her parents. There were so many that by the time Rose had got through most of them, it was getting dark. They moved inside, those who could stay, the Potters, the Longbottoms, her Grandparents and Cleo, squishing into the living room, the younger ones sitting on the floor. Ron poured wine for the adults, Rose and Albus now considered among them. Rose sipped from her glass. Half of her was glad to have her family and friends around her, to finally have a distraction. The other half just wanted it to be over so she could go to bed.

There were a few more presents, in between the chatter and a hastily-put-together Exploding Snap tournament. Hugo gave her a box full of Honeyduke's sweets. Al gave her a book on spells that used familiars. She wasn't sure Midnight would sit still long enough for her to try any of them but it looked interesting, all the same.

She sat back, ready to relax a bit between snap rounds. She watched Tony casually toss down an ace, blowing up a small pile of cards and nearly setting James' hair on fire.

Then Cleo came and sat beside her, and Rose prepared herself to have to exchange pleasantries. But the girl was holding out a small, square package. "This is for you," she said quietly. On the other side of the room Lily was laughing herself silly as James felt his hair all over for evidence of scorching.

"Oh," Rose said, surprised. She hadn't been expecting anything from Cleo at all. "You didn't have to."

"Well, it's not just from me," the girl admitted, pushing back a lock of blue hair as Rose pulled back the plain wrapping paper to reveal an unmarked CD in a slim plastic case. "It's the last recording we did before he left. He promised to play it for you when it was finished, remember?"

Rose's breath caught in her throat. She turned the disc over. "Yeah. I remember."

"I think he'd want you to hear it. Especially now."

Rose felt a crack appearing in the corner of her inner wall. She remembered his face when he begged her not to read the words. She had been feeling, as much as she didn't like to admit it, pretty jealous up until that point, as she told herself she had every right to be, when her boyfriend made plans to meet another girl in Hogsmeade. But when he looked at her like that, she could feel that she, Rose, was the only girl he cared about.

She opened the case, turning the slim disc over in her fingers. CDs were practically ancient technology now, but perhaps Cleo had guessed that they wouldn't have any way to play any of the new high-tech music chips they used for recording nowadays. "You don't have to play it now," Cleo said quickly.

"I know. I want to." She got up and walked past the card table and all the party guests to the old stereo in the corner. Her mother used it sometimes to listen to Muggle music. She switched it on, aware of a growing silence behind her as people became aware of what she was doing. She ignored it, slotting the disc into the machine and, with a deep breath and a silent promise to herself, pushed the play button.

The upbeat rhythm took her by surprise. The way he hadn't wanted her to read it, she had been expecting something slower, more romantic, perhaps even gushy. Still, all doubts she might have had evaporated as soon as Scorp's voice filled her living room.

I woke up in the middle of the night

Out of luck with this girl on my mind

She got away now, I'm trying to explain how

I fell in love, that's what I like to call it

But not enough, it's like I never saw it

Drifting away I am finding words to say

But it all goes whoa, whoa, whoa,

The promise had been not to cry, but somehow, unbelievably, she felt herself smiling. You never saw it all right, you arse, she thought to herself, leaning back against the wall beside the stereo. I practically had to beat you over the head with it. It was like he was calling to her across the miles, the best way to apologise for being an idiot that he knew. She wondered when he had written those words. He had never actually said 'I love you' until the day he left.

What does it take to get you

If I never met you

I wouldn't have ran across the country like

I'm out of my mind

What does it take to hold you

When I'm here without you

I don't know where to start

I've gotta find you and your heart

Before it falls apart

The smile faded. Everyone was watching her but she could hardly recognise their presence, she was so deep into the music. It was like he had known. Of course it was probably just typical artistic exaggeration; he joked about missing her just for the few hours they were apart every Saturday. But the words still pulled at her heart. Suddenly he seemed even further away from before, as though he were living in another dimension she could never hope to reach.

I stayed up in the dead of the night

I made plans if they turn out right

You'll close your eyes and

Think about the times when

We fell in love but didn't try to say it

Knew what it was the moment that we played it

We all lose sometimes, I can't get her off my mind

She found she could hardly breathe. Despite all her resolve and promises, there were tears running down her cheeks, tears of loss and anger and hopelessness. She wanted to reach out and stop the music but she couldn't move, Scorpius' ghost had nailed her to the spot and she was forced to stand there, clinging to the wall as though it was all holding her up, wanting to find him and slap him right in the face for making her feel this way.

What does it take to make it real

The world still spins and I'm still feeling

Your head right next to mine

I'll play it back a thousand times

I wish I took a photograph

For every moment that we laughed

Oh no we can't relax

Cos she's so far away….*

Rose couldn't take it anymore. She focused on the party long enough to see that Hannah and Lizzie were crying, her dad had a face like thunder and Al had his head in his hands, and she knew she couldn't face what would happen when the song ended. She pushed herself away from the wall, stumbling a little, and ran out of the living room and up the stairs. The dam was already breaking, but she made it to her room, slammed the door behind her and fell onto the bed, her hair coming loose from its pins as she pulled a pillow towards her and buried her face in it, before the tears came, and came, and came.

Downstairs she could hear people muttering, doors opening and closing, movement in the hall. She had almost done it, almost convinced them all that she was fine, that she could keep a brave face and make it through the year as though nothing had happened. Why hadn't she waited until she was alone to play that song? She would have been just as upset but at least most of her family wouldn't have been subjected to her emotional breakdown.

She pulled another pillow over her head, trying to block out the sounds of the front door opening and closing as people left. She kicked off her shoes and curled herself into a safe little ball, not caring that her party dress was getting rumpled. The music was still ringing around in her head, all the harder for the carefree, optimistic way he sang, as though nothing could hurt them, nothing could ever come between them. She remembered feeling like that too. They had both been idiots.

We knew it would be hard, she argued with herself. We knew, we just… didn't think anything like this would happen. We thought we would at least be together. It didn't matter what happened as long as we were together.

Ten minutes or so later, there was a soft knock on the door. She ignored it, but the door opened anyway, there was a pressure on the bed as someone sat beside her, and then a hand was stroking her hair. "Oh sweetheart," said her mother's voice, bringing on another flood of tears. "I hate seeing you like this."

"I'm sorry," Rose sobbed, loosening her death grip on the pillows and putting her hands over her eyes to hide her face. "I ruined everything... I'm sorry."

"It's all right," her mother said, pulling her close like a little child and laying her head in her lap. "Everyone's gone home now. They all understand why you're upset. Albus said to tell you he'll come over in the morning when you're feeling better."

Rose swallowed between sobs, feeling a stab of guilt on top of everything else. Scorp was Al's best friend too. Her cousin, for all his glib assurances that Scorp was fine, worried almost as much as she did, she could tell. By acting like this, she was only making things worse.

"I m-miss him, Mum," she managed through the tears, breathing in her mother's comforting scent, the same perfume she always wore. "I just miss him so much."

"I know," her Mum said, pulling her tangled mess of hair back from her sticky cheeks. "I know."

"It hurts so much. He didn't have to go! I know he c-cared about me, but he left, and I know he had to, but… I just…"

"I know."

"No, you d-don't know, you, you always had Dad, he never - "

"Always? Far from it," her mum smiled. "I was madly in love with your father months before he even knew. Before I even knew. I only knew it hurt to watch him drool over other girls. And then, when I was about your age, he left for a while."

"He left?" Rose was so amazed that she even stopped crying. "But, when you were my age…"

"We were on the run, yes. The three of us, living in a tent, constantly running for our lives and trying to save the world at the same time. There was a lot of tension, not to mention we were carrying a dark object around with us. Dad just got to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. I think that was when I realised how I really felt about him, aside from being furious. I cried myself to sleep every night, but the rest of the time I had to be strong for your uncle, since I was all he had left."

Rose stared. She had heard the story plenty of times, but this part must have been left out. Of course, her dad was usually the one telling the story, so he had the opportunity to do some delicate editing. "But… he came back?"

Her mother smiled and nodded. "Yes, he came back. He risked his life to come back to us, because he cared a lot about me and Uncle Harry. Scorpius cares about you just as much. Maybe more. Your dad certainly never risked so much by being with me."

Rose sat up and wiped her eyes. "It's not fair."

"No."

"Mum?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"What do you think of him? I mean really."

"Truthfully? I haven't seen enough of him to form an opinion."

"Mu-um!"

"But… Neville and Hannah both care about him a lot. And I know Neville would never let him near Alice if he didn't trust him.

Rose smiled through her tears. "Yeah, he loves her. He's really good with her."

Her mum conjured her a handkerchief and passed it to her. "And just from listening to that song, I can tell he cares about you."

"It's just a song." She took the hanky and blew her nose.

"Perhaps. I'd like to get to know him better."

Rose stared down at her knees, tangling her fingers in the sparkly blue hem of her dress. "Dad doesn't like him."

Hermione chuckled. "Your dad is a believe-it-when-he-sees-it sort of person. He'll come around."

She wiped a hand over her eyes furiously. "How's that going to happen when he's not even here? Scorp, I mean, not Dad."

Hermione nodded. "It seems like that now, but you're only seventeen. There's still time. You just have to be patient. Now take off that dress and get into bed. You'll feel better in the morning."

~*-A-*~

Al woke up to someone knocking on the door. "G'way, Mum," he muttered sleepily. "It's a holiday."

He was just drifting off to sleep again when the knock came again, and there was a strange rattling echo to it. He realised with a jolt that it was not the door, but the window. He sat up.

Rose was hovering outside his window, dressed in a travelling cloak over a short black jacket and dark jeans, her hair braided tightly back in a business-like fashion. She was sitting on her Lightning broom, her birthday present from his parents, custom made for Chasers, dark red wood and beautifully trimmed twigs. She had one ankle propped up on the broom's shaft, like some absurd pixie. She waved enthusiastically at him.

Wondering if this wasn't all just a bizarre dream, he threw the covers aside and went to open the window. It was just big enough for a person to fit through - or at least, it had been when he was twelve. His mum had caught him at it the only time he'd tried, and the resulting telling-off had been so traumatic he had never tried it again. "Rose," he hissed as she swung her leg all the way over to land with a light thump on his windowsill. "What the hell are you doing? I was going to come over, today…"

"I know," she said, tossing her braid over her shoulder. "I didn't want to wait. I'm tired of being patient. I've waited long enough."

"So?" Albus was getting more and more concerned over where this was going. He glanced over his shoulder to check the door was closed, and only then noticed the time. Seven thirty; his parents would be at work and James and Lily wouldn't rise for another three hours at least. "What's going on?" he asked, but he already knew the answer before she had even said it.

"I'm going to France." Her voice was breathy and excited, her eyes bright - not with tears for once, but with eager determination. "I'm going to find him. Are you coming?"

Chapter Text

2024

~*-S-*~

Two weeks earlier

~*-S-*~

Scorpius had never thought he would be glad to be going back to the townhouse. The relief at leaving Durmstrang was such that he did not even sulk when his classmates began talking excitedly of returning home to their families. While the cold around the castle had eased slightly towards the beginning of summer, Scorpius' problems had not. He had taken his exams in a kind of half-stupor, answering the questions he understood and making his best guess at the rest. There was a competitive vibe amongst the Durmstrang students at this time of year, as higher marks would lead to better rooms and more privileges, but Scorpius did not join in. He aimed to pass, and he wasn't even sure of that much. He would probably still be stuck in the same tiny prison room when he returned. If he returned. Part of him still hoped he could talk his father around over the summer.

There was a ship moored on the bank of a frozen lake, and they, the whole school, piled into it with their belongings. Scorp shrunk his trunk again and held onto it in case it got swept away from him in the crowd. With all the red-robed students crowding around him, he couldn't help but feel like a child lost in a supermarket, despite the fact that he was taller and older than most of them. The ship made a violent dipping motion, throwing Scorpius and the younger students, who didn't know any better, against those who had been smart enough to hold on. "Thanks Arkady," Scorp breathed as his friend set him upright again.

"Very easy to catch you," Arkady replied in French, shaking his head. "When you get home, eat more, yes?"

Scorpius nodded, but he knew he couldn't promise anything. His appetite still had not returned, and he doubted the townhouse cuisine would be the thing to bring it back. At least he might be able to get some proper sleep for once.

"I hope you do not come back," Arkady continued, as the ship dipped and swerved and made Scorpius' stomach churn unpleasantly. "You are sad here. Is not good for you, English boy."

Scorp smiled wryly. While Arkady and his friends had none of them bothered to learn his name, they had at least made his life at Durmstrang passingly bearable. "Thanks, Arkady. I hope so too. If I don't come back, good luck getting in with Krum."

Arkady beamed.

They disembarked at some kind of port on the border. From there, several of the students headed for the International Floo. Many of the younger ones had their mothers or fathers to greet them. Scorpius looked around with some trepidation and saw Jean the footman - or was he the butler? Scorpius wasn't even sure - coming towards him. Of course, he thought bitterly. He waved a final goodbye to Arkady, Euan and the others as the man approached, and turned to go with him. "Another Portkey?" he said when Jean pulled out a battered old satchel. "Father is spoiling me."

The man did not even crack a smile, but held out the satchel and stared at his watch. Scorpius was wearing his own watch, as well, hidden under several layers and his fur cloak. He dared not check it, but then, the time was not so important. He put a hand on the satchel.

Seconds later he was standing in the hall at the townhouse. At least, he thought it was the townhouse. "What.. the… where did it all come from?" he breathed, pulling off his fur hat as it was suddenly sweltering hot in all his layers, and staring around.

"Your father has made some very sound investments," Jean said, in his puffed-up servant voice. "He is waiting for you. If you would like to change, I shall tell him you have arrived."

Scorpius nodded, dumbly, still staring. Where before the hall had been void of decoration, it was now rich with colour. True, it was mostly green, but still. There was a thick embroidered rug on the floor, a long narrow tapestry on the wall. There was a portrait of some old woman Scorp didn't recognise, and in the centre an intricately carved statue of a rearing unicorn. This last sent a shiver up his spine. It was beautiful, but the eyes were flat, colourless, and somehow dead, even though he knew it was just a statue.

His own room, thankfully, had not changed quite so much. He dumped his trunk at the foot of the bed and stripped off the fur cloak and then the rest of the layers. It was deliciously warm in here. He couldn't remember the last time he had been properly warm all the way through. He felt a strange urge to strip to his underwear and crawl into bed, never to emerge, but resisted it knowing his father was waiting to see him.

He had decided on his tactics before he had even left Durmstrang. Discipline was what his father wanted, and respect, well, he would get it. Anything if it convinced him that Scorpius was ready to go back to Hogwarts. He was willing to get down on his knees and beg, if that was what was necessary.

He put back on his blood-red Durmstrang robes, with considerably less on underneath, and combed his hair back. It had only just got long enough for a comb to go through it, and he patted it down in the hope that he wouldn't be forced to cut it again.

The young man reflected in his mirror had certainly changed since the last time he had been here. Arkady was right to worry about him. He was looking dangerously thin, with very little colour to his skin and dark circles under his eyes. His paleness was made even worse by the bright red of his school robes. His lips were dry and cracked, and there was a hard scab at the corner of his mouth where the lower one had split. He hardly recognised the person he had been two months ago.

He looked down at his left hand. His palm criss-crossed with new and old lacerations, the most recent curling uncomfortably around the base of his thumb. His only solace was that at least Reznicek would not be around when his exam results were sent by the school. The man had been unimpressed with all Scorpius' efforts to improve, even when he explained that he had fixed the translation spell by himself after three sleepless nights in the library. He closed his hand into a fist. It stung, but that was all right. He had it to prove he had discipline now. Whatever that meant.

He took a deep breath, and hurried down to the study.

Jean opened the door for him when he knocked. He had also changed out of his warm coat into his usual dark blue robe. He closed the door, but stayed inside. Scorpius wished he wouldn't. He had a feeling the conversation would be humiliating enough without an audience. On the bright side, at least it might be nice to have a whole conversation in English that wasn't about Potions.

His father was sitting behind the desk. He too was pale, but he wore it well, appearing more elegant than sickly. That was annoying. Scorpius wondered if anyone had ever told his father to go out and get some sun. He doubted it.

"Father?" he prompted, after a good minute and a half had gone by without the man so much as looking up from his paperwork. The grey eyes lifted to meet his, just for a moment, then the man jerked his head towards a chair. Scorpius sat.

Draco was frowning. "Your mouth is bleeding."

Scorpius touched his lip with the tip of a finger, but the scab was whole. "It's fine."

"Hm." His father sat back in his chair and regarding his son critically. "That uniform is an eyesore."

Well, Scorpius thought, at least we agree on something. "Yes father."

"I imagine it's the best thing you have at the moment," the man said thoughtfully. "You have grown since the last time we bought you new robes."

You noticed. "Yes father."

"In the meantime you may wear your Hogwarts robes. At least your hair no longer resembles that of an adolescent Muggle."

Scorpius forced himself to sit straight and still, to let no unsavoury emotion cross his face. "Yes, father."

Draco gave him a searching look. Then he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is this new affectation a product of what you have learned from Durmstrang?" he asked quizzically.

Scorpius blinked. "Sir? What affectation?"

"Agreeing with me about everything."

He swallowed. "I… thought that was what you wanted."

Draco's hand slammed down onto the antique desk, making Scorpius jump. "I want you to think, boy. You are my only son and heir. You will be the one to continue my legacy. I want you to agree with me because I am right, not because you think it is what I want to hear."

"And if I don't think you're right?" the words were out of his mouth before they had quite bypassed his brain. He prepared himself for an outburst.

"Then I shall have to be the one to convince you otherwise," his father said instead. "I should have taken a hand in your eduction much earlier, but…" he waved a hand noncommittally. Scorpius knew that to finish that sentence would be breaking his own rule about never mentioning Astoria except when making thinly-veiled threats. "Tell me," his father went on, in a tone that suggested he was picking up an entirely new train of thought. "Have you given any thought to your future? To what you will do after your NEWTs?"

Scorpius swallowed. He had been waiting for the subject of NEWTs to come up. He had decided it was the best segway into his argument, but he hadn't expected it to come quite so soon. He wasn't sure he was ready. "Father… I honestly don't think I can even pass my NEWTs. Not at Durmstrang - please listen," he said quickly when his father's eyes narrowed considerably. "I did my best, I swear, but they expect me to do all seven subjects. I'm so far behind in most of them I don't think I'll ever catch up, especially when they don't even teach them in English." The lack of any immediate argument spurred him on. "Father, if you let me go back to Hogwarts I swear I'll drop Muggle Studies. I'll do Potions instead, I think I could manage that, and I'll come top of the year in everything else. I can do it. Please, father."

There was silence for a while. Scorpius counted it a miracle that his request hadn't been shot down immediately. Then his father said, "you didn't answer my question."

"Sir?"

"What you're going to do after NEWTs."

Scorpius stared. Somehow he didn't think the truth would go down well. I want to be a musician, father. I want to be in the first wizarding band to be famous in both the Muggle world and the wizarding world. I want to start a music revolution. I want to change the meaning of the name Malfoy. I want to go to Teddy's wedding. I want to impress Rose's family enough that we could get married ourselves one day. I want to be free.

No. It was a test. He had to be careful. "No sir," he said eventually. "I assumed I would be doing whatever you do, now."

A pleased smile crept across his father's face and he knew he had given the right answer. "Very well," Draco said, nodding. "This summer you will assist me in my work. If you do well, and there are no mistakes - none, mind - I will allow you to return to Hogwarts in September."

Scorpius became aware that his mouth was hanging wide open and shut it quickly. That was it? A little admin work for his father's business and the nightmare was over? "…really, father?" he asked, his mind racing, looking for loopholes. "You promise?"

"Don't be such a child," his father snapped, the smile dissipating as quickly as it had come. "I'm not going to give you an Unbreakable Vow. We start tomorrow morning."

Scorpius leapt out of his chair, deciding to make good his escape before the man could change his mind. "Yes sir," he said, breathless with joy. "Thank you sir!"

He fled the study and hurried out into the hall, slowing as he reached the stairs. Jean had followed him out. "Is everything all right, sir?" he asked, in French, peering over as Scorpius leant on the bannister.

"I… I just don't get it," Scorpius thought out loud. He was too surprised to be careful about what he said in front of his father's servant. "A month ago he was ready to pack me off to that Siberian prison forever. Now it's all forgiven?"

Jean smiled, the first smile Scorpius thought he had ever seen on that thin face. It did not quite reach the eyes. "Your deception angered him considerably. I have since convinced him that crippling you academically might not be in his best interests."

Scorpius blinked. "You convinced him?" There was no answer, only another humourless smile. "Er… thank you."

"It was not for you I did this thing. He is a man who has suffered much. Betrayed, abandoned by people he trusted."

He shifted uncomfortably. "To be fair," he protested, "he tends to bring that out in people."

Jean cocked his head to one side and gave him a mocking little half-bow.

Still, Scorpius thought as he fell back onto his green-coverleted bed and stared up at the disturbingly high ceiling. It was something to think about.

~*-S-*~

Present day

~*-S-*~

He had never thought much about his father's business, beyond wondering how it could make so much money in so short a time. He soon found out that at least part of the reason was the sheer cost of the products they delivered.

"Four thousand Galleons?" he said, holding up a roll of parchment to the light as though the answer might be written there in invisible ink. "For a necklace?"

"A very old necklace," his father said shortly. "These are artefacts, son, not frivolities."

"No kidding," Scorpius muttered, though not so loudly that his father could hear. For two weeks he had been helping with the paperwork, and it was easily the most time he had spent with his father since he had gone to Hogwarts, and maybe even before. He had been surprised to discover that his father wanted him to work in the study, but the more he thought about it the more he realised the sense behind that decision. It was hard work, and he needed training. It was several days before Scorpius really felt like he knew what he was doing, and didn't have to ask a question every few minutes.

Aside from his questions, they mostly sat in silence, but for the occasional rustle of parchment or the opening and shutting of drawers. Goyle occasionally came by with more orders, or to drop off large bags of Galleons. These went, to Scorpius' surprise, in a safe that was magically secreted away behind the desk. He didn't dare ask to learn the spell that opened it, but it was a fascinating bit of magic. The charm was a complicated incantation coupled with a very specific wand movement, and he thought his father might be the only one to be able to open it, as well. He thought it might be some kind of blood spell. They were very traditional for hiding valuables among Pureblood families.

Jean was always in and out. Evidently at some point over the last two years he had been elevated to a sort of personal assistant. There were less maids than before, and none of them were the same ones. Apparently it was either too hard to hold on to a job in the Malfoy household, or no sane person would want to. Scorpius tended to lean towards the latter. The food was terrible, though his father never seemed to notice. The man barely left the study but worked continuously from sunrise to sunset. Scorpius himself slept better than he had at Durmstrang, but not a lot better. The maids more than once told him he needed to grow more flesh on his bones.

He always wore the watch. Warm weather aside, he made sure to wear long sleeves, but wearing it at least gave him some sense of self, reminded him that he did have friends, somewhere out there. People who cared enough about him to give him a watch, even if his own family didn't think it important.

Whenever he could, he went outside. It was so good to feel fresh, warm air on his face that he went out even when it was pouring, and breathed in the clean smell of the rain. There was no time to do homework. He ignored his Durmstrang books in any case, promising himself that he would be back to Hogwarts in a few weeks and would have no need of badly translated copies of Dark Arts for Advanced Wizardry. On the nights he couldn't sleep, he read his old Potions books to prepare for his new NEWT. When even that failed to send him off, he thought about Rose, and of how happy she would be when he boarded the Hogwarts Express with everyone else.

The rest of the time he was stuck in the study with his father. It wasn't as bad as he might have imagined. That much time in close quarters had taught him the do's and don't's of family interaction that he probably should have learned a long time ago. Most of all he had worked out how much he could get away with, which was a surprising amount. As long he stayed away from certain triggering subjects, his father could even take a joke every now and then.

"Well, this one's dated April," he said now, rolling his eyes. "You should have got me to help with this ages ago."

"Filing is not one of Goyle's strong points," his father admitted. "Speaking of, he should have been here by now."

"I can survive without his presence," Scorp said, pulling the next pile of parchment towards him.

"Most people can." Draco stretched, went to the tall window and peered through the blinds. "But I've known Goyle for a long time. He's a loyal… friend." The word 'friend' sounded strange and forced in his mouth.

Scorp shrugged. Friend he might be, but he had never liked Goyle. His mother hadn't either, especially when Scorpius was younger. Vaguely, he remembered there being some scandal with a young boy. He hadn't understood it when he was little, but now it certainly made him wary, especially remembering the way his mother had tried never to leave him alone with the older man, and the creepy way Goyle had always looked at him when he stayed at the townhouse.

"Hm." Draco let the shutters close and stepped out of the light.

"What?" Scorpius looked up from his pile of parchment. "Is something wrong?"

"Perhaps. I thought I saw…" Draco shook his head. "Never mind. Jean!"

"Yes sir?" the butler put his head around the study door. He always seemed to be just around the corner.

"Try and find out where the hell Goyle's got to, will you?"

"Yes sir."

Scorpius went back to his papers, watching out of the corner of his eye as his father closed the curtains over the blinds. "Is there something out there?" he asked eventually, unable to contain his curiosity.

Before his father could answer, Jean returned, leading a breathless Goyle. By the soot on his robes he had come through the kitchen Floo, the only fireplace in the house that was connected to the public network. The one in the study and the other, in the little-used living room, were on some sort of private line you could only get to from special access points like the one Jean had taken Scorpius through, the summer after fourth year. "What are you doing?" Draco hissed, and Goyle gave Scorpius a look that suggested he shouldn't be privy to the answer.

Draco led Goyle out of the study into the hallway and closed the door. Dropping all pretence of disinterest, Scorpius got out of his chair and made an attempt to eavesdrop. The door, however, had heavy soundproofing charms on it, and he couldn't hear anything at all through it. Disappointed, he went to the curtains instead and made a chink, pushing the shutters apart at eye level with his forefinger and thumb.

The street outside was often busy, leading into the Rue Chouette as it did. There were a few people now going to or from Wizarding Paris, some of them families with young children. It took him a moment to spot what must have worried his father so. There were two people dressed in black standing on the other side of the street. Unlike everyone else, they were not moving, not headed toward either direction. They were looking at the house. Weird.

Suddenly he remembered something he hadn't thought about in a long time. That summer when Draco had taken him shopping for school things, the summer after second year when he had been worried about how to buy his Muggle Studies books, a man had stopped them in the street. Scorpius remembered him being toad-like in stature, wearing expensive robes. He had insisted on a private conversation with his father. Scorpius wondered what had made him remember that. He didn't see how it could have anything to do with the people out there now...

As he watched, one of them made a shrugging motion, and the hood of their cloak fell back to reveal a braid of long, red hair.

The door latch clicked, and he tugged the curtains closed again, heart pounding, and hurtled back to his seat before the door could open. Swearing fervently in his head, he forced himself to breathe lightly, trying to look for all the world as though he hadn't moved. It was Rose. And someone with her… Al, maybe? Or Teddy… who else would know where he lived? Had he ever given them an address? More importantly, what on earth were they doing here?

"Scorpius."

He looked up, not having to fake the surprise on his face. "Yes father?"

"I have a job for you."

"Sir, this is not a -" Goyle interrupted. He looked harried, and his hair was sticking up above his ears, making him look like an absurd bulldog.

"Shut up, Goyle," Draco snapped. "My son is more than capable."

Scorpius stood up and tried to look keen. More than anything he needed an excuse to get out of the house. He had to talk to them, had to find out… but he had no idea how to do it without his father cottoning on to what he was doing.

"One of our couriers has become indisposed," his father said, ignoring Goyle's piteous expression. "I need you to deliver a package to London."

Scorpius blinked. "London?"

"That is what I just said. You will need to take the Floo to a designated access point from which you will walk the rest of the way. Jean will give you details."

"Why doesn't Goyle just…" Scorpius started to say. He couldn't go to London now!

"I need Gregory here," his father insisted. "Go. Do not disappoint me."

Scorpius nodded, since that seemed to be what was expected. "Yes, father."

He followed Jean out of the study. Before the door closed he heard Goyle make a muttered protest, and his father say "Never mind that now, we've got other problems to deal with…"

Get out, Rosie, he thought desperately as Jean went to the kitchen and retrieved a small package small enough to fit in Scorpius' pocket. He knows you're there. Get out you idiots, before he finds you. He wasn't actually sure what would happen, but he didn't want to find out.

Jean brought him to attention and gave him Floo directions. He repeated the five Floo points three times to make sure Scorpius remembered.

"Can't you just write it down?" Scorpius sighed.

Jean shook his head. "To do so would be a security risk. We don't want our trade route to become public knowledge."

Scorpius frowned. "Why not?"

Jean merely repeated the Floo points again and made Scorpius repeat them. Only then did he hand over the package. "The last point opens on Charing Cross Road. You know how to get to Knockturn Alley?"

Immediately Scorpius felt a sense of foreboding, though he couldn't have said where exactly it came from. "Yes, but -"

"The shop you will deliver to is called Borgin & Burkes. The contact is Ezekius. Got that?"

Something rang like a bell in Scorpius' brain. Ezekius. He knew that name from somewhere. "Yeah, I have it."

"Repeat it."

Scorpius sighed and repeated all the information again. Jean nodded at the package. "Keep that out of sight until you enter the shop. Do not, under any circumstances, open it. Come back the same way and don't stop for anything. You don't need to collect payment, but you must give the package to Ezekius in person."

Scorpius didn't even have a chance to argue this time before he was ushered to the fireplace in the living room. Jean offered him Floo powder. Scorpius took a pinch, threw it into the fire, and called out: "catre-cinq la couris!"

He came out in an empty room. Literally empty. There was nothing in it except another fireplace, on the other side of the room from where he had come out. The walls and floor were dark floorboard, and there were no windows or doors at all. Scorpius took a step into the room and took a breath.

He was on his way to London. Rose and probably Albus were at the townhouse.

Bugger.

He bit his lip. He wondered how long it would take to reach Knockturn Alley. Would Jean know exactly how long? Would his father? Did he have time to stop at the Leaky Cauldron, to give Neville or Hannah a message to send to Rose? Would a message even reach her in time? For a brief, crazy moment he considered doubling back, ducking out of the house and yelling at them to get away. He really hoped they wouldn't do anything stupid.

He pulled the package out of his pocket. Jean had been very keen on his not opening it. Some precious old piece of junk, probably. Who would pay for some of the stuff they carted around he had no idea. And hand-couriered! What was wrong with good old-fashioned owl post, he would like to know.

And yet, there was something sinister about the whole thing. Something about the way Goyle had acted when Draco suggested Scorpius take the package. Something about the man called Ezekius, something to do with the toad man from Rue Chouette.

The package was giving him a strange, sick feeling. He stuffed it back in his pocket. He couldn't do anything about Rose now. He had to deliver the damn thing so his father would keep his promise and send him back to Hogwarts.

He walked over to the other fireplace, grabbed Floo powder from the pot on the mantlepiece, and yelled out the next address. The second room was much like the first, another French address. The third address was across the channel in Cornwall, the fourth in Birmingham. By the time he came out on the Charing Cross Road exit, he was starting to feel nauseous from all the spinning. He made a mental note to suggest to his father that they shorten the damn trade route.

It had only taken ten minutes, but the street seemed oddly dark when he stepped out of the nondescript little building into Muggle London. It was about three doors down from the little bookshop where he and Rose had had their first kiss on Christmas day. He tried not to look at it, but went the other direction towards the Leaky Cauldron and the entrance to Diagon Alley.

If he had seen Hannah or anyone immediately, he might have stopped, but the barman was unfamiliar and the only waitress he could see was an older woman with a reputation for gossip. He ducked his head and strolled with the tide through the pub, deciding that he could look for someone on the way back. Something, a strange feeling that had been itching at him since Goyle's appearance, told him it was probably best not to have to explain the package in the pocket of his robes.

He came out through the back door, tapped the requisite bricks with his wand and walked through into Wizarding London.

He knew the way to Knockturn Alley, though he had never been down there. No one had ever forbidden it, specifically, he just hadn't even felt the need to explore. Besides there was usually an old hag or part-troll standing outside the entrance, selling wizened fingers, bits of dried scalp or other such nasty wares, and he usually gave them a wide berth. Today he forced himself to walk past into the dim light of the shadowed street beyond.

From here he wasn't sure which way to look. All the buildings looked the same, grimy stone with dark windows. Asking someone was probably out of the question. He stopped for a moment, looking to either side for a shop sign. "Six sickles for a bezoar, dearie," cackled one of the aforesaid hags, appearing at his side as if out of nowhere.

"No thank you," he said quickly. He seriously doubted the wizened old things on the tray were real bezoars, especially for six sickles. He hurried off in the other direction.

In the end he almost went past the shop. The window was half boarded up, the words Borgin & Bu in faded and peeling gold letters on the door. He paused. The place didn't look at all open. Jean hadn't said what he should do if there was no one in. Gingerly he pushed at the door. A bell rang, making him jump, but no one appeared behind the dark, grimy-looking counter.

He let the door shut behind him. There was one dim lamp at the back of the shop, and the boarded-up window hardly provided much more light. He could just about make out some bottles and what looked disturbingly like a human skull on a shelf. As he came further in he saw a low table that on closer inspection seemed to be some kind of tiny piano. Experimentally he reached out and touched one of the keys. The sound was jangled and tuneless, and he pulled his hand back quickly.

"Ah, the harmonium." He whirled round to see a short, rattish-looking man coming out from behind the counter, where moments before there had been an empty space. "An antique. I can give you a good price."

"Er… no thanks," Scorpius said quickly. "I'm not buying, I'm delivering. I need to see Ezekius."

The man's sickly-sweet manner evaporated, and he sneered as he looked Scorpius up and down. "Oh you do, do you?"

"Yes, I do." Scorpius pulled the package from his pocket. "I'm meant to give him this."

The man looked at the package eagerly. "I'll take that."

"Are you Ezekius?"

"Ezekius isn't here."

Scorpius sighed. He had half a mind to just toss the shopkeeper the damn package and have done, but somehow he just knew his father would find out if he made the delivery to the wrong person. And his return to Hogwarts was hanging in the balance. "Look, I really need to give this to Ezekius. You better fetch him or I'll have to go all the way back again."

The man hesitated. "Well," he said after a moment. "Let me see what I can do."

He turned away, and suddenly the air was filled with a shrill shrieking sound, so loud that Scorpius found himself bent double with his hands pressed over his ears. He looked up to see the shopkeeper hurtling back towards the counter, but before he could yell a demand to find out what the hell was going on, heavy, gloved hands grabbed him from behind.

The shrieking intensified as he let go his ears to hit out at whoever was trying to grab him, only to find a sharp wand-point pressed against his throat as even more hands forced him to his knees, his arms were dragged behind his back and magical ropes twisted around his wrists. The package was ripped from his hands, but that was the last thing he was worried about now.

There seemed to be dozens of people in the tiny shop now, all dressed in black, and for a bizarre moment Scorpius wondered if he was being kidnapped. Then he saw the shopkeeper being dragged back by even more black-robed figures, his fingers dusted with green Floo powder. Clearly he had been trying to get away. Then one of the men holding Scorpius forced his head down with one hand so that all he could see was the filthy floor and about a hundred pairs of dark boots moving about.

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement!" he heard one of the men yell. "This is a raid! Resist and you will be stunned! Will someone please get that damned alarm turned off!"

"Yessir!" someone shouted from far back in the crowd of intruders, and the shrieking sound suddenly and blissfully stopped.

"Is this everyone?" asked a calmer voice from somewhere above him, and Scorpius' heart sank like a stone. He knew that voice. This isn't happening, he thought desperately. Please let this not be happening.

"All clear back here," said another voice. "Boxes of stuff though; I think we've hit a fair-sized jackpot."

"Ooh, what have we here?" Scorpius heard the sound of tearing paper, and he guessed one of them was opening the damn package. "This is a nasty looking thing. What do you think it does?"

"Knowing the Shadow, probably makes you vomit your kidneys out your mouth. Don't touch it. Get all the stuff back to the Ministry and escort Mr Borgin to a holding cell. I want to talk to him later."

Scorpius could hear the shopkeeper cursing and whimpering as he was dragged out. He tried to look up, fighting against the pressure that was keeping his head down. "Hold still, Shadow Junior," growled one of the men holding him. "Sir, this one's hardly more than a kid."

"Let's have a look at him, then," sighed the authoritative voice. "Who does Shadow send to Knockturn Alley to do his dirty work?"

The man holding his head released the pressure, and in the same movement grasped his hair, pulling his face up. Scorpius found himself looking up into the astonished face of Harry Potter, and, wearing an expression that could only be described as furious, that of Ron Weasley.

Chapter Text

2024

~*-S-*~

Sitting alone in the holding cell some hours later, Scorpius wondered how on earth he could have been such a bloody idiot.

He'd had suspicions, of course. He'd been sorting the papers and counting the Galleons. You couldn't spend two weeks going through all that paperwork without having some doubts about the legitimacy of the business. But he had been thinking more along the lines of… well, fraudulent antique jewellery, and suchlike. Not hurting anyone except the poor buggers dumb enough to pay four thousand Galleons for a necklace worn by Helga Hufflepuff, or a fragment of Merlin's staff, or whatever. Not this.

There hadn't been a lot of time to make sense of it during the raid. Mr Potter and Mr Weasley had stared at him for a long time. Then a slow realisation seemed to come over them both as they turned to look at each other.

"Malfoy," Mr Weasley had said, in a tone that suggested both wonder and satisfaction. "Harry -"

Mr Potter held up a hand. "Scorpius," he had said, not unkindly. "What are you doing here?"

Scorpius had found himself unable to speak. As much as he wanted to explain, to tell them it wasn't his fault, and, if necessary, to beg for mercy, the words got lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth.

One the men holding him shook him roughly by the shoulder. "The Head Auror just asked you a question, boy."

"Harry -" Ron urged, getting more and more excited by the moment.

"Not now, Ron," Mr Potter said, low. He shook his head at the Auror who was shaking Scorpius. "Enough. We'll deal with him later."

A couple of Aurors had dragged him away, and stuck him in this place. The shopkeeper was no doubt somewhere nearby, but the holding cell was concrete on all four sides, giving very little indication as to what lay beyond. He hadn't seen much of the journey, and what he had seen he could barely remember. He had been too shocked, too terrified to do anything but let them toss him into the tiny room and slam the door. There wasn't even anywhere to sit. After a few minutes of frantic pacing, he curled up into a corner and tried to put his mess of thoughts and emotions into some kind of order.

His brain was still boiling with them even now; it seemed like hours later though it might have been less, it was hard to tell. His father was involved with the Shadow, that much was clear. He probably had been for years. That meant Goyle was also in on it, and Jean too, even if only in a servile capacity. He wondered if his mother had known where all the newfound wealth had come from.

Was he ever going to tell me? he wondered, thinking about the way his father had smiled happily when Scorpius had announced he wanted to follow in his footsteps. Or was he going to wait until I was in too deep to do anything about it? Inwardly he was leaning towards the latter. Perhaps it had been a test, or a game, to see how long it would be before he figured it all out.

No wonder Goyle hadn't wanted Scorpius, a known Muggle sympathiser, to act as courier. Most of the Shadow's more dangerous products were designed only to harm Muggles, at least if you believed everything you read in the papers. Not all of them though. Scorpius felt bile rise in his throat as he remembered. The Shadow, or someone buying from the Shadow, tried to kill the Minister for Magic. Tried to kill Harry Potter. And nearly succeeded.

He remembered the look on Ron Weasley's face when he had seen him in Borgin and Burkes. I'm a criminal. A bloody criminal. Whatever was in that package could have killed someone. They have every right to send me to prison. He doubted Mr Weasley would ever come around to Scorpius dating his daughter now, even if he somehow managed to avoid Azkaban after this.

And Rose was still at the townhouse. He hadn't even had a chance to tell anyone.

He stared down at his hand, tracing the healing curse lines across his palm with his fingertips. The Aurors had taken everything from him that could be used as a weapon, which meant his wand, his shoelaces, whatever good those might have done him, and his precious coming-of-age watch. His only comfort was that he was, for all legal intents and purposes, still a minor. This was less of a comfort when he remembered that he was seventeen, and, by the British Ministry's standards, not a minor. He could only hope that the same technicality that had allowed his father to take him out of Hogwarts would be enough to get him off for a first offence.

He jumped as someone, somewhere, screamed. It wasn't a scream of pain, perhaps of anger or frustration, but it sent a shudder down his spine. I don't belong here. I don't belong here I don't belong here… He swallowed as his stomach turned over and his throat burned with bile. He would not throw up. He didn't need anything so pathetic to add to the current situation.

He remembered how Albus and Lily had worried in the days after Christmas when they weren't sure if there would be another attack on their father. He wondered if Albus would blame him for not knowing. He wondered what Rose would say. That he was an idiot probably, but he knew that already. The image of her face floating in his minds eye sparked a series of imagined scenarios, each worse than the last, ranging from her bursting into tears and hugging him and defending him to all and sundry to her pulling out her wand and telling him never to come anywhere near her again and that they were through. After the day he had had, both seemed equally likely.

He felt sicker and sicker as he imagined the looks on everyone's faces. The people closest to him, who trusted him, had believed in him. Neville and Hannah especially, he knew would be disappointed. And then he would have to face Lizzie, and Teddy, and Gaius and Peter, and the rest of the people in their year, and… but that was assuming he ever even got back to school. He kept forgetting that he was probably going to prison, and even if he didn't, would McGonagall even take him back now? He wasted what felt like another half an hour imagining all the horrible ways that conversation might go.

And what if he did go to Azkaban? If no one stood up for him? Would he go mad like his grandfather had? People said that didn't happen anymore since they had gotten rid of the Dementors, but after a month at Durmstrang Scorp knew he would go mad, locked up on an island in the middle of nowhere. Maybe they'd give him the same cell as his father. Maybe the other inmates would gang up on him just like people had done his whole life, first the older Gryffindors, then the Slytherins, then the Gryffindors in his year, then Reznicek and his toadies, except this time it wouldn't be just a bloody nose or a medieval punishment curse. They might actually kill him in there, if he didn't go mad first.

He wondered if Rose or Albus would visit him.

He wondered what would happen with Cleo and the band.

He wondered how the Longbottoms would explain things to little Alice.

He wondered if he would ever see his mother again.

After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, something clicked. It couldn't have been a key, because the impenetrable door didn't seem to have any lock, but it opened in any case, smoothly and without a hint of a creak. That seemed even creepier, somehow. "Come on you," said a stern-looking wizard in Auror's robes. When Scorp failed immediately to move, the man made a sharp gesture with his wand. "I said come on, unless you want me to drag you."

Scorpius got up, with some difficulty. His legs felt like jelly, and he was cold all over. Not a physical cold but a strange sort of numbness that left him feeling dizzy and stupid. He swallowed hard and tried to concentrate. Just do as the nice man says, he thought to himself in a weird fit of inner hysteria.

"Hold out your hands," the Auror demanded.

Scorpius was used to this request. He half expected the man to lash him across the palm with his wand. But this was not Professor Reznicek, and he was no longer at Durmstrang. Instead, when he obediently offered his hands, the Auror snapped bright red handcuffs around his wrists, one at a time. Enchanted cuffs.

"There goes my escape plan," he said with a dull, nervous chuckle. The man was unamused by this lame attempt at humour.

"Move," he snapped instead, gesturing Scorpius forward with his wand. Very few other options were open to him at this point, so he obeyed.

Outside the cell was a round room not dissimilar to the cell itself, except that there were four doors. Scorpius only vaguely remembered coming through it. He supposed that two of the doors must lead to other cells, and the fourth, which the Auror was now opening, must be the exit. Opening the door took some time - it involved a complicated-looking rune drawn in the air with his wand, followed by a whispered incantation and another wand movement. It seemed like a lot of security. Scorpius wondered who was in the other cells, if anyone.

When the door was finally open, the man motioned for him to go through it. There was a long stone corridor, then some stairs, then another corridor followed by more stairs. It reminded Scorpius of Durmstrang; all it needed were slates on the doors with names written in chalk. For a moment, he had a dreadful sickening feeling that he might be in Azkaban already, but that theory was quickly and blissfully disproven as they came out through another door into an open office space. Men and women in Auror robes populated the desks. Here and there were a couple of obvious civilians in chairs, being questioned. A wizard in eye-watering orange robes was on the far side of the room, waving his arms angrily as he made his complaint to a harried-looking Auror.

Several of the people around them turned to stare at him as his Auror guard steered him through the room by means of a firm hand on his shoulder. As soon as he had taken a few steps past them, some of them turned to each other and began muttering darkly. He caught one of them say, "Bloody Shadow…" and another mutter "Malfoy… should have known…"

"Keep moving," his guide said sharply when he might have stopped to see who had spoken.

"Interview room six, Ian," said a man with a pinched face and glasses as he passed carrying a stack of paperwork. "They're not here yet, but I've got Badger in there."

"Isn't that a conflict of interest, or something?" the man called Ian asked, frowning. "I thought they were related."

"He assures me it's not. Don't argue, man, I need you to meet with the task force. They're straight through to France in an hour."

"Yes sir." Ian began walking again, tugging Scorpius along

The man made a sharp turn, causing Scorpius to almost stumble as they went around a corner and down to a door marked six. Ian knocked on it, and it opened.

"Thank you Ian. I can take it from here until Mr Potter arrives."

It was Teddy.

Scorpius almost fell down in relief as his cousin stood aside to let him in before closing the door to Ian's retreating back. "Well," the older man said, giving him an incongruous look. He had dark hair today, almost pitch black over bright blue eyes, and was wearing dark jeans and maroon T-shirt. "You're in a spot of bother, aren't you?"

"Teddy!" Scorpius gasped. "Am I glad to see you."

"Bad day?" Teddy smiled grimly as he lifted his wand. The handcuffs fell off Scorpius' wrists, leaving a faint tingle of magic where they had been.

"You have no idea. What's going on? Where am I? Am I going to prison?"

"Whoa, slow down." Teddy pushed him gently into into a chair and perched on the edge of the large metal table before it. Only then did Scorpius notice the grimness of the room he had walked into. If he had ever seen a Cold War film featuring an interrogation, he might have found it comparable. The walls were painted a depressing shade of grey. The table and three chairs were the only furniture, and there was a large mirror covering one wall. "One thing at a time," Teddy said calmly. "You're in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"In the Ministry?"

"Yeah. We didn't bring you in through the front entrance, of course. They don't like us bringing criminals in by the front door."

Scorpius' heart sank. "I'm not -"

"Yeah, I know you're not. Calm down. They're not going to throw you in Azkaban for one delivery, as long as you cooperate."

Scorpius took a deep breath. Relief started to pour off him in waves. "I'll cooperate my arse off, believe me. Teddy, I swear… I had… no idea, I -"

He stopped. He wasn't sure why. Somehow he wasn't quite sure what he had been about to say. Instead he rubbed his wrists and stared down at the cold metal table. "What's going to happen?" he asked, in a low voice.

"Harry's going to come talk to you, soon as he's back from evidence. They're cataloguing all the stuff they found at Borgin and Burkes now. They've been planning this raid for months. I don't think anyone expected you to be the courier."

Neither did I, Scorpius thought darkly.

There was a loud knock on the door and the man with the glasses poked his head in. "All right in here, Badger?" he asked, without even looking at Scorpius.

"Fine," Teddy said shortly.

"Good, good. They'll be here in a minute, then I need you to come see me for an assignment."

Teddy waved assent and the door closed again. Scorpius smiled despite himself. "Badger?"

Teddy grimaced. "School nicknames never go away, do they? There was an incident in Transfiguration where I tried to show why Metamorphmagery can't be extended to full Animagery - anyway these things seem to stick."

Somehow the mention of Transfiguration had jolted something in Scorpius' memory. "Teddy, I have to tell you - someone - I have to tell someone - I know I should have told Mr Weasley but it was all so -"

Teddy held up a hand. "Scorpius, it's okay. You don't have to say anything yet. Just answer all the questions truthfully, and -"

"No, this is something else." Scorpius reached up to run a hand through his hair, remembered it was all gone now, and dropped it again. "It's Rose. She's in France."

Teddy stood up quickly, staring at him. "What?"

"Before I left - she - I saw her - at the house. Someone was with her, it could have been Al…"

Teddy swore. "Are you sure?"

He hesitated. "Well, I didn't get a good look… I guess I could be wrong. Feel free to tell me there's no possible way they could be there."

Teddy swore again, even worse. "Okay. I'll find out. Whatever you do, do not tell Ron. I'll sort it out."

"But she -" Scorpius swallowed. He wanted to say that she was in danger, that she was quite literally walking into a smuggler's den, but somehow the words just wouldn't come out.

"I'll take care of it," Teddy said firmly.

"Take care of what?" Behind them the door had opened and both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were standing there. This is like a nightmare, Scorpius thought. Except that even my imagination could never have dreamed up anything as bad as this.

Teddy didn't even blink at the question. Scorpius was starting to see how he could make a good spy. "He hasn't eaten anything," his cousin said calmly. This was true, though Scorpius felt privately that he might never need to eat ever again. "I was going to organise some food."

"He can eat after we talk," Ron said darkly, and Scorpius thought he had never heard anyone speak with so much venom in their voice.

His cousin patted him on the shoulder and left the room. Scorpius wondered, in the back of his mind as the two Aurors came around to sit in the chairs on the other side of the forbidding metal table, if Teddy would be able to go straight to Paris or if he would have to do his 'assignment' first. He hoped he got there quickly. He was having a bad enough time worrying about himself, let alone the others.

"Recordus," Mr Weasley muttered, and balanced his wand upright on the table, where it stood, quivering slightly.

They had changed out of the black robes they had worn for the raid. Mr Weasley wore dark blue robes, and Mr Potter had a black cloak on over a grey jumper. There was a gold, seven-pointed star pinned to his cloak, that marked him as the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. These changes didn't make them any less intimidating, however. Scorpius started to feel sick again, especially when neither of them said anything but began to flick through papers with very serious expressions. He sat very still, resisting the urge to scratch the itchy hair at the back of his neck.

When Mr Potter finally spoke, it made him jump. "State your full name for the record please."

Scorp blinked. "S-Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy." He swallowed hard. Be a man, he told himself firmly.

"Age?"

"Seventeen."

"Occupation?"

Scorpius looked with confusion from one to the other. "I… I'm still at school, you know that -"

"For the record, Mr Malfoy." Mr Potter's face was impassive.

Albus' dad. He's Albus' dad, Scorpius repeated to himself. Albus talks about his dad all the time. He's a good guy. A hero. No one to be afraid of.

"Student, then," he said, forcing himself to meet the man's eerily green eyes. "I mean, I've been a waiter, I've helped…"

Unless you're a criminal, said another, treacherous voice that sounded suspiciously like his own father. Potter's put away more Dark Wizards than any of his predecessors, and he's not even fifty. He wouldn't blink at putting away a no-good Smuggler who deals in dark objects.

"Would you care to explain what you were doing in Borgin and Burkes this afternoon?" Mr Weasley asked, before Scorpius could even get his head all the way around the last question.

"I…" What had he been doing there? Suddenly he wasn't so sure.

"Mr Malfoy?" Potter prompted after about a minute. "Just answer the question."

"I… I'm not… I was…"

Mr Weasley leaned over the table, putting his face close to Scorp's in a way that made him want to shrink back. "Let me explain today's interrogation strategy," he said, in a tone like ice. "Usually, Harry's the bad cop. See, most people are afraid of him. Big damn hero and all that. He stands here and yells at them for a few hours 'tll they're wetting their trousers. Then I come in with a cup of tea and a smile and people talk to me because I'm not the big scary Voldemort-killer, right? Only today, boy, I'm the one you really need to be afraid of, and I think you know why."

Rosie. Suddenly she was all Scorpius could think about. Her dad had the power to keep them apart, maybe forever. Of course there may have been a slight underlying threat of physical violence as well, but Scorpius could only focus on one thing at a time at the moment.

The only problem was, he wanted to tell the truth, wanted to help, but every time he tried to speak, the details of what he wanted to say seemed to slip away from him.

"We know you're working for the Shadow," Mr Weasley continued, "and let me tell you that's the biggest clue in this case so far, and we've got a fairly good idea now who's pulling all the strings. So if you don't want to go down with the boss, you'll tell us now… who gave you the package?"

What package? He remembered, he did, but as soon as he opened his mouth it was though his brain drew a complete blank. "I don't… I'm not sure."

"Who is the Shadow?" Weasley demanded.

"I don't know!" he shouted in frustration.

Mr Weasley slammed his fist down on the table. "You don't want to lie to me right now, Malfoy, you really, really don't."

"Ron," Mr Potter said, an edge of warning in his voice.

"Who gave you the package?" Mr Weasley demanded, ignoring his partner. "We just need a name. Who are you protecting?"

"I'm not," Scorpius insisted. He could feel tears of frustration welling up in the corners of his eyes. "I swear, I - I can't…"

"Ron," Mr Potter repeated. Weasley turned to look at him, and something passed between them. They stood up and moved to a corner of the room while Scorpius tried to pull himself together. He caught words, snatches of their conversation that only confused him more.

"… too late…"

"… no way, his own son though?"

"… just like the others…"

"How late though? Could we…?"

"…if he agrees, and even then…"

"…seventeen, not like he's a kid…"

"…age he is, the risk…"

"… not the point, Harry! If he was any other…"

Scorpius looked up at the ceiling and tried to block it out. He honestly didn't have a clue what was happening to him. He sincerely hoped he wasn't having some kind of mental breakdown. When he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that all this was a dream, that it wasn't really happening. But that was foolish, he realised, opening his eyes again and staring down at the ugly grey table. It was happening, it wasn't a dream, and why couldn't he talk about it?

Finally the Aurors turned back to the table. Mr Potter had the same would-be-calm expression on his face as before, while Mr Weasley looked strangely triumphant. "Scorpius," Mr Potter said, calmly. Scorp looked up at him helplessly. "I think you're trying to tell us something, but perhaps you can't," the man continued, keeping his green eyes locked onto Scorp's grey ones. "Would that be right?

Scorpius managed something halfway between a shrug and a nod.

"You may have been cursed," Mr Potter explained, nodding. "Some of the people we've questioned have been under Unbreakable Vows. Others have been cursed so that they can't tell us anything, even if they want to. But sometimes, depending on how long they've been under the curse, Veritaserum can help." He crouched a little so that he was almost at Scorpius' eye level. Those eyes were so much like Albus', it was somehow comforting. "It's a bit of a grey area because of your age and your registration with the French Ministry, but if you agreed to let us give you Veritaserum…"

"O…okay," Scorpius managed to choke out. "I'll do it… I…" He didn't remember being cursed. Would he remember it? Maybe they'd modified his memory. He had a sickening vision of his father sitting him down and pelting him with memory charms, over and over, each time he had questioned what was going on, and felt his skin turn clammy and a strange stiffness in his throat. He turned his head just in time to avoid his clothes as he vomited onto the floor.

When he looked up, Mr Weasley had gone. Mr Potter was frowning. "Well someone's done a number on you," he sighed, passing Scorpius a glass of water that appeared from nowhere and vanishing the sick with his wand. "If this works, I'll owl Neville to come pick you up. He tried to warn me something like this would happen." The shock must have shown on Scorp's face, because Mr Potter shook his head. "Not exactly like this, obviously," he said darkly. "Unless he knows something I don't know about all this..."

"No!" Scorpius said quickly. The thought that he might put Neville under suspicion was too much to bear. "He just… he knew that…" He took a gulp of water. It eased the acid taste in his mouth a little, but didn't do much to steady his nerves. "He knows that… my grandfather…" This time it wasn't any spell that made him hesitate. He just didn't want to say it, even to Mr Potter. Especially to Mr Potter. "He… attacked me," he managed to say, eventually. Humiliation would have made his cheeks burn if he had any colour left in them. "Last summer. Neville helped, after I ran away. I… I asked him not to tell anyone." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared down at the tabletop.

Mr Potter muttered something under his breath, a swearword maybe. Scorpius didn't dare look up at him. He heard the man's finger's tapping on the tabletop. "I'm sorry," he heard after a while.

"What?" he glanced up, unable to help himself, and found his eyes fixed once again by that emerald gaze.

The door opened and Mr Weasley came back in holding parchment and a vial filled with opaque liquid. He looked even more irritable than before, if that was at all possible. "Red tape?" Mr Potter asked him dryly.

"Something like that," the redheaded man replied, tossing his partner the paperwork. Mr Potter signed the form, turned it around and passed Scorpius the quill.

Scorpius read the words. He understood the words, but the meaning of what he had read seemed to wash over him and fade away like a fog. He signed the thing anyway, with a hand that shook. The faster they got this over with the sooner he could go back to the Leaky Cauldron. What would Neville say? Scorpius was sure he would be disappointed, but he wouldn't say anything. It would be that same awkward, silent disappointment he had felt when he had left Hogwarts, but worse. A lot worse. At least he didn't have to go to Azkaban. The Leaky Cauldron was the closest thing to home he could think of. A decent sleep wouldn't go amiss. He was sure he would feel better, one he had had a really good sleep.

Mr Potter had taken the glass of water back. Scorpius, through a haze of exhaustion, saw him pour two drops from the vial into the glass. At a nudge from his partner, the man sighed and added another before pushing the glass back across the table.

Scorpius drank. It was a relief, in a way. No one could say he betrayed his family if he was under the influence of a truth potion. No one could accuse him of lying, or say he had done more than he did. The more he drank the more relaxed he became, the stress and tension easing from his body, and the terrifying mess of emotions that fogged his brain drifting away until he was floating happily on a pink cloud of contentedness.

"Scorpius," he heard Mr Potter calling as though from far away. Or was it Albus? It sounded more like Albus. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," he said, closing his eyes. "Yeah Al, I hear you."

"Scorpius?"

The cloud he was lying on seemed to be getting softer and softer. He was slowly sinking, sinking into it, and someone was calling his name, but that didn't matter. He was comfortable. He was safe. He was falling, falling, at first gently but then faster, as though down a long, dark tunnel. It was peaceful.

Then, as his breathing slowed even more, he realised the cloud was starting to cover his face. He twitched, trying to dislodge it, feeling his chest start to tighten. The thing - the cloud - whatever it was - it clogged his nostrils and snaked fluffy tendrils into his mouth, choking him. Suddenly it wasn't a pink cloud anymore but black, black and thick and wet like tar. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. His chest was getting tighter and tighter and he thought his body might be falling, but he didn't seem to be attached to his body anymore; he was high, high above it and everything was very far, far away.

His last thought before everything went completely black was: Oh, shit. Moonsilver.

Chapter Text

2024

~*-A-*~

Rose was all for going right up to the door and knocking, but Albus had other ideas.

"You don't think he'll know who we are? Come on. He must read the papers, right? They printed our family photo from Italy, last year, and James' last birthday. And everyone says how much I look like my dad at his age. He'll know me straight off, even if it takes him a few minutes to cotton on to you."

"His dad won't open the door," Rose argued. "They have servants and things."

"You gonna risk this whole mad caper on that chance?" Al sighed. He would have been the first to admit that he was grouchy, after being woken first thing in the morning for a mad flight over the channel to France. Why they couldn't have taken the Floo was somewhat beyond him, though Rose insisted that using the Ministry-regulated Floo was a bad idea.

"You want our dads catching up to us before we even get there?" she had questioned him when he brought it up once again after they landed on the beach in Normandy for a rest. The sand was wet and the wind was up, and Al was hoping it wouldn't be too long a rest. He could feel salt water staining his socks through his shoes. He hadn't exactly dressed for the beach.

"I bet they haven't even noticed we're gone," he shot back. "They're so busy with this Shadow thing, and Mum will just assume I'm with Cleo."

"Right." The tone in that one word spoke volumes.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You don't like Cleo, do you? You never have."

"Shut up, of course I like her. She's… fine."

Albus shook his head, scattering drops of seaspray from the ends of his hair onto his glasses. He took them off and cast a cleaning spell. "You aren't angry with her for giving you that stupid CD, are you? She was just being nice."

"I know. I said thank you."

"Yeah, right before you stormed out on everyone and embarrassed yourself."

Rose's cheeks went red, and she dropped the argument, but Albus felt a little guilty about it. Rose had no reason to be jealous of Cleo now, when she was Albus' girlfriend and had no designs on her boyfriend at all. At least he hoped she didn't have designs. With Cleo it was sometimes a little hard to tell.

Being with Cleo was different to being with Lizzie. Cleo was wild, unpredictable, sometimes a little terrifying and always a little confusing. Albus had to admit that the main reason he had agreed to this mad venture was that he needed someone to talk to about her, and without Scorpius his options were limited to Rose, his parents or his brother, none of which were particularly appealing choices. Of course, he was concerned for his friend as well. It didn't bode well that they had just had that one letter, sent via Krum to Rose's mother before it even reached them. Not hearing from Scorpius on the holidays was hardly unusual, however, and it seemed to him that Rose was either worrying overmuch, or perhaps she knew something that warranted concern. If so, he was a little miffed that he wasn't in on the secret.

They mounted up again after a brief rest. It was drizzling on the beach anyway, despite the height of summer, and they took off from the wet sand with relief. Rose re-cast the disillusionment spell before they left, so that all he could make out of her beside him was a slight shimmer in the air. "Next stop Paris!" he heard her call excitedly. Below them, a group of Muggles sheltering under a picnic blanket looked up at the sound of her voice in confusion.

Albus was used to flying in the rain - and snow, and sleet, and fog - but flying cross-country lacked whatever it was about Quidditch that made it bearable. It was at least fast - he could see cars and even trains below them as they overtook all the traffic, fading into the distance. The Phoenixer didn't even try to do any crazy moves. He was glad Rose seemed to know where they were going. At one point he heard her mutter a charm, a direction spell maybe. He should have known she wouldn't just up and leave without planning it out first.

"You know, we're both seventeen now," he pointed out when she finally called to him to touch down. They came down on the corner of a quiet street, and they pressed against a wall as she removed the disillusionment charm. "We could have just Apparated."

"Apparating over water is dangerous," she said, almost absent-mindedly as she looked around.

"Once we got across the Channel then," he sighed.

"We can Apparate to Normandy on the way back," she explained, pulling a Paris guide out of her pocket. Albus didn't bother wondering where she had got it. "I didn't want to risk us Splinching because we don't know the area. Anyway I still haven't got my test."

"That'll be the least of your worries when your parents find out," Al muttered.

She turned and glared at him. Behind her, a Muggle child shrieked as its mother dragged it away from a sweet shop. "Will you stop complaining?" she hissed. "Do you want to find Scorp or not?"

He shrugged. "Of course I do. You know that. But listen - how are we going to explain him just showing up? They'll know he didn't come on his own. And where's he going to stay - with you? Your dad'll love that. And since he's not of age yet - technically - isn't this kidnapping? My dad would have to send him home, he can't be accused of kidnapping! So would Neville, unless he wants to lose his job - "

She looked at him helplessly. "Al, I… I just can't leave him there. I can't, okay? I just need to know he's… he's…"

He sighed and nodded. "Yeah. I know." He wanted to say he was sure Scorp was fine, but he wasn't sure. He had noticed the shaky handwriting, too.

Rose led them out of the street and round the corner. "The house has to be around here somewhere. Scorp said it's at the end of Rue Chouette, that's Wizarding Paris."

"I know," Albus said defensively. "You're not the only one who knows stuff."

"All right, all right."

Al looked around. The whole place looked pretty Muggle to him. "Er… do you know howto get to Wizarding Paris?"

Rose made a face. "Not exactly. Maybe we could ask someone?"

"Right, we'll just ask one of these nice people how to get to a street in a magical sub-dimension that they can't see. That'll work."

"Oh shut up." She looked around, as if hoping to see someone in a cloak or a pointy hat to interrogate. "Haven't you been here before?" she asked him, an edge of exasperation in her voice.

"I was ten!" he protested. "Anyway I couldn't even do magic, Mum and Dad did all the opening and closing of things."

Rose pulled out the book again and started flipping through the pages. "I think it's a brick thing," she muttered. "Like Diagon Alley."

"Well it's not going to be in there," Albus told her. "That's a Muggle book."

Rose ignored him. She continued to flip until she found the page she was looking for, pulled out her wand, and said, "Reveale."

At first nothing happened, and Albus was on the verge of expressing a desire to turn around and go back, but then she let out a squeak of excitement, and she showed him the page. The text, a printed paragraph about the zoo, had faded, and over the top of it was appearing hand-written instructions on how to enter Rue Chouette.

"Sometimes you're so clever you make me sick," Al sighed. "How did you know it was that page?"

She moved her hand and showed him the opposite page. Just to the left of the passage about the zoo was a picture of an owl. "Rue Chouette." She grinned. "Owl street. Ta-da!"

He shook his head. "All right, fine. What does it say?"

She bent her head over the book and started walking down the street, muttering as she read to herself, and he followed her. They attracted a few strange looks, dressed as they were in travelling cloaks and carrying broomsticks, but his cousin didn't seem to notice. Eventually they reached a brick wall, but Al knew better than to complain it was a dead end. "Cover me," Rose whispered, and he stood in front of her trying to look inconspicuous while she counted bricks with her wand. "One… two… three… one two three four… two taps…"

There was a grinding sound, and he turned to see an opening in the wall where before there had been solid brick. He ducked through it after Rose and looked back to see an archway through which Muggle Paris was hazy, but visible. "Cool," he said, shrugging. Now that they were out of sight of any Muggles, they shrank their brooms and tucked them inside their cloaks. Al felt a little blasphemous doing that to his beloved Phoenixer, but he could hardly carry it around with him all day. "Now what?"

"It'll be somewhere down the other end," Rose said confidently, pointing. Ahead of them was a street filled with witches and wizards, some of them clearly Beauxbatons students doing their summer shopping. One of them, a tall girl with dark nut-brown hair, did a double-take on seeing Albus, and turned to stare after they had passed.

"Bugger," Albus muttered, pulling up the hood of his cloak.

"Oh yeah, that's great," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "You're invisible now."

"You're the one who wanted to keep a low profile," he pointed out. He was imagining his mother's reaction when she found out he had run off to France without telling anyone, seventeen or not. "Let's find this place quick."

They hurried through Rue Chouette, past the many rows of shops, including a bookshop to rival Flourish and Blotts, a robes shop, and of course an Owl Emporium, from which could be heard a low sleepy hooting. A family crossed their path with a girl who looked like she might be a first year, clutching a kitten that kept trying to escape her grasp. "Oh look," Rose said suddenly, pointing out a low building with a windmill painted on the sign and the words Le Moulin in flowery script. "That's Scorp's restaurant."

"Hm?"

"Where he used to work. Do you think maybe….?"

He shrugged. "Worth a try."

They went up to the building and peered through the window. It was darker inside than it was outside on the bright street, and it took a minute or so for their eyes to adjust. There were lamps lit inside, and people moving around. Albus hadn't been keeping track of the time, but the rumble in his stomach hinted that lunch was long over. "Waiters must be setting up for dinner," he muttered.

Rose had her nose right up against the glass. "I don't see him," she whispered.

"I don't see much of anything."

There was a shout from behind them, and suddenly a lanky black-haired wizard was bearing down on them, shouting angrily in French.

"Er… sorry?" Albus attempted, suddenly wishing he had paid more attention when Vic and Dom had tried to teach him when he was little. "We're looking for -"

"We are closed, come back later!" the man insisted in accented English, apparently labelling them as over-inquisitive tourists.

"Come on," Rose said quickly, and they made a break for it.

"Well, I wouldn't want to work for him," Al muttered grouchily when they stopped round the corner for breath. "We only wanted to look."

Rose was looking around at their surroundings. The rows of shops had given way to large, impressive-looking houses with fancy lacework on the black iron gates and flowers growing over the walls. "Isn't it beautiful," she breathed.

"Yeah, just great," Al groaned. "Is this it? How do we know which one it is?"

"I'm sure we'll know it when we see it," Rose said, not quite so confidently as she might have been.

"Does it have a big skull painted on the door?"

"Shut up, Al."

They walked the street, looking both sides at the houses for some clue. "I wish I still had the letter," Rose sighed. "The one he sent to ask if Teddy could find his mum. That had the address on it, but I can't remember the number. Twenty something? Twenty eight? Twenty six?"

"That's twenty-six," Albus said. They stopped on the other side of the street from the house. There was something strangely forbidding about it, but then people felt that way about Al's house as well. His dad said it had something to do with all the protective wards and things that protected it, all necessary after the number of assassination attempts against his family over the years. They gave people the feeling that they didn't want to go in. It usually wore off after a few visits. "What do you think?" he asked, staring up at it. Most of the windows were shuttered. It wasn't immediately apparent that anyone even lived there at all.

"Maybe," Rose said. "Should we knock?"

And that was when the 'to knock or not to knock' argument began. The result was, after several minutes, that they would wait and see if anyone came in or out until dark, at which point they would fly up and peer through some of the windows. "Easier to get away if we're on brooms," Al said sensibly.

Rose shook her head, causing her hood to fall off and her red braid to fall out. "I don't like waiting so long."

"He's been in there two weeks, if he's in there," Al pointed out. "He can wait a little longer."

"Wait," Rose said, gripping his arm. "Did you see that?"

"See what?" Al turned back to face the house, but it was just as still as before.

"The shutters moved. I swear they moved."

"Great, so someone's in there. I guess it's good to know we're not staking out an empty house."

"Do you think they saw us?"

"How should I know?" Al pulled the hood of his cloak down lower. They waited for several minutes. For a while it seemed as though nothing would happen.

"What do we do now?" Rose asked, and Al was just about to answer that he had no more idea than he had five minutes ago, when a flash of red light shot out of the darkness, narrowly missing his ear.

He swore and grabbed Rose's arm. "Come on!"

Together they ran back up the street towards Rue Chouette. The street was quieter now, but there were still enough people around that no one would dare curse them in broad daylight. They came to a staggering halt, doing their best to look as though they were just out for a jog and not running for their lives.

"What the hell?" Al gasped, leaning against the side of a building as he tried to catch his breath. He was really more of a broom sport person. He wondered why anyone would want to run just for the fun of it.

"I knew it," Rose said, her cheeks flushed from running, or perhaps anger. "Mr Malfoy is keeping him a prisoner in there! He's trying to scare us off. We have to go back and get Scorp out."

"Back there?" Albus exclaimed. "Now?"

"No, later," Rose said firmly. "When he isn't expecting us."

Al gaped at her. "Great," he sighed eventually, when he had decided she probably wasn't joking after all. "What do you suggest we do until then? What if he comes after us?"

Rose looked around. "This way," she said, with a lot more confidence than Albus currently felt, so he followed her. She led him into the nearby bookshop. "Just… look around for a bit," she said out of the corner of her mouth. He nodded and moved a little way away from her. Separately, he decided, they might attract less attention. Just to be sure, though, he drew his hood even further down over his eyes and took off his glasses. They tended to make him extra recognisable, especially when people were used to seeing his father wearing similar ones. It did make looking around the bookshop a lot less fun, however, since he could barely read the book titles, let alone the small print.

They pretended to browse for about two hours, until it closed. When they came out again, it was dark. Rose pulled up the hood on her cloak again, and cast the disillusionment charm on both of them. Albus didn't bother to protest that he could do his own one. She had that over-determined look that suggested she would not brook any interruptions. "So, what's your plan here?" he whispered, putting his glasses back on as they walked back up to the row of houses.

"Fly up and peek through the windows till we find Scorp's bedroom," she whispered back.

"What if he's not in bed yet? It's not even eight."

"We'll wait in his room till he comes up."

"What? Are you mad? Wait inside Draco Malfoy's house?"

"You have a better idea?"

Albus groaned. "We are definitely going to die."

"He won't kill us," she said, and he saw the shimmer in the air that might have been her tossing her hair back.

"Right, that shot earlier was just to maim us a little."

"Al, he's just a man. He's not evil."

"Tell that to his Dark Mark."

"Shhhh," she hissed as they neared the house. Albus doubted anyone inside would be able to hear them whispering from way out here, but he shut up anyway. It was easier than arguing. "Do you hear that?" Rose whispered, so quietly he barely heard her. He stopped and put all his attention into listening.

Someone was shouting. Inside the house, there was an argument going on.

"Is it Scorp?" he whispered back after a moment.

"Don't think so," Rose said, low. "Let's go and -"

Suddenly a hand landed on Albus' shoulder, sending an electric current of terror through his body. From Rose's shriek, he wasn't the only one. He twisted and ducked, ripping instinctively at the catch on his cloak. He left the attacker with a handful of loose material and span away. Rose - or the occasional shimmer in the air that was Rose under the disillusionment charm - was being held by a blonde man wearing sunglasses. "Let go of her!" he shouted, running back towards the man, but the stranger was already doubling up in pain, putting one hand to his leg where Rose had kicked him.

"Let's go!" Rose yelled to Albus, and he felt her hand fumbling for his. He grabbed it and they ran as fast as they could. Since the man was blocking the way back to the main street, they had to go the other way, into unknown territory. Al's heart was beating hard in his chest, and not just from running. He could hear the footsteps of the man behind them, slightly out of synch where he was limping on his injured leg.

"Come on," Rose was saying in between gasps of air. "Come on come on come on!"

Al looked desperately from side to side, searching for a hiding place, a weapon, a portal to an alternate dimension, anything. Was no one looking out of their windows in this town? Had no one heard Rose scream? Apparently not, he thought grimly as they ran on. What they really needed was somewhere they could stop long enough to get out their brooms, undo the shrinking charms and take off…

"Here," he hissed suddenly. He had spotted a low wall separating someone's garden. He dragged Rose towards it and they scrambled over. Rose let out a little gasp of pain when the brick scraped her elbow. "Get the brooms," Albus said, and then he realised. He used a word that his mother would never have tolerated.

"What now?" He couldn't see Rose, the dark and the disillusionment charm hid them both entirely.

"That bastard has my cloak," he said, low. There were no more footsteps, but he wasn't naive enough to think that meant that they were safe now. "My Phoenixer was in the pocket. Damn and blast and Merlin's bloody -"

"Shhhh," she hissed. He stopped, and they both sat as still as stone.

He was breathing too loud. He knew it, but he had just run what felt like a hundred miles and his chest was bursting for air. He forced his mouth shut and tried to suck in as much as he could through his nose, but the breathywhine it made sounded like a tornado in the silence. He closed his eyes and prayed that the disillusionment charm would hold, and if they just stayed quiet enough maybe he could get on Rose's Lightning and they could get as far as the edge of the city.

Then something grabbed him by the collar. He yelped and punched upwards, impacting with a soft thud of flesh on flesh. It felt and sounded like he had hit whatever it was in the chest.

"Ow!" the attacker shouted. It was enough to make Al hesitate for a second. What kind of scary-arse Dark Wizard said 'ow'?

"That bloody hurt. Stop it, right now, the two of you." The man dragged them both upright from the other side of the wall, and then released his hold.

Al whirled round. The man was tall and blond and unfamiliar, and he was wearing sunglasses. At night-time. Al drew his wand. He still had that, at least. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"To take you home, you idiot." The man flipped up his sunglasses, and his features shifted under the skin, shortening the nose and lowering the cheekbones until he was recognisable.

"Teddy?" Rose gasped, about half a second before Albus caught up. "What are you doing here?"

"I just said, didn't I?" Teddy was frowning. It was an unusual expression to see on his face. He was always a serious sort of person but in a pleasant, friendly way. Now his look was almost Ginny-esque in its furosity.

"You bastard," Al breathed. "We thought you were Malfoy!"

Teddy frowned, cross-eyed, at a lock of blonde hair that had fallen over his eyes. "Bad choice of disguise perhaps," he admitted, flipping the sunglasses back down. "I didn't have a lot of time to change. You're bleeding," he said to Rose. He pointed his wand at where Al supposed Rose must be and said "Episky."

How can you see us?" Albus demanded.

Teddy pointed impatiently at the sunglasses. "One of Uncle George's gadgets. Sees through most amateur concealment spells. Good night vision, too. Finite Incantatem!"

Albus felt a cold trickle down his back as the charm was removed. He suddenly felt very naked standing visible in the middle of the street.

"Now I'm going to ask what you are doing here," Teddy said darkly.

"We came for Scorp," Rose said, without hesitation.

"I figured," Teddy said. "That doesn't explain why you came here, by yourselves, without even telling anyone -"

"Hey, we're of age," Albus cut in. "We don't need permission to go to France if we want to."

"Good luck using that argument on your mother," Teddy snapped, making Albus' stomach churn. "You shouldn't be here. It's dangerous, much more than you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rose asked.

Teddy hesitated. "Later," he said, low. "We're going back, right now."

"Not without Scorpius," Rose insisted. "We came all this way, and I am not leaving without him. Who knows what they've -"

"Rose, listen -"

" - done to him! He never wanted to come here, you know that, anything could have -"

"Rose!"

Rose stopped and glared at him. "What?"

Teddy sighed. "You're too late," he said. "Scorpius is already in London."

Albus stared at him. What the hell was going on?

Chapter Text

2024

~*-R-*~

Teddy did not offer any further explanation, no matter how much Rose asked. "I'll explain when we get there," he kept saying, even while he led them up the street to what seemed to be a bar. "Or someone will."

Rose did not understand how Scorpius could suddenly be in London. Had he escaped on his own? That did sound like something he might do, if things got desperate enough. Trust him to do it on the very day they came to rescue him!

The bar had a Floo point. The barman seemed to know Teddy, because he handed over the Floo powder and went back to his patrons without a single word being exchanged. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Teddy instructed Rose, offering her the pot.

"Aw, Teddy," Albus moaned. "Can't we just go home? Dad's going to kill me."

"Shut up," Teddy said shortly. "Just do it, Rose."

"Will this work internationally?" Rose asked, looking doubtfully at the fireplace. She didn't want to get trapped in someone's chimney forever. Gran had told enough horror stories when she was little to discourage any of the children from messing with the Floo.

"Trust me," Teddy said.

She hesitated a second before taking a pinch of powder. She tossed it into the fire and stepped into the flames, feeling their warmth tickle her chin and the ends of her fingers. "British Ministry for Magic," she announced, as clearly as she could. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement." The flames whipped up around her and she felt herself spun around like a top for several seconds.

She stepped out on the other side feeling queasy. She really preferred broomsticks to the Floo, even if it did take longer.

"Rose! Rosie!" She had just enough time to make out her mother's face amid a mass of bushy hair before she was being enveloped in a tight hug. "We've been worried sick," Hermione cried. "I came home and you weren't there, Hugo said you had gone to Harry's, and I Floo'd Ginny, and she said she thought Albus was with you - "

Albus was coming through the Floo now, and Rose could just make out Ginny descending on him in a similar fashion.

"Oh Teddy," Hermione breathed with relief as the final member of their party came through the fireplace. "Thank goodness. Where were they?"

"In Paris," Teddy said shortly. "Looking for you-know-who."

"Albus!" Ginny gasped.

"Sorry mum." Al looked sheepish. Apparently he wasn't even going to attempt his 'but I'm of age' argument.

"Oh sweetheart," Hermione said, looking down at Rose with a kind of pity that made her want to scream. "That's what I came home to tell you. Scorpius is… well…"

"What?" Rose demanded. "He's what?"

Hermione looked from Rose, to Ginny, to Teddy and back. "Well…"

"They arrested him," Teddy sighed.

"What?" Albus exclaimed. "Who arrested him? Dad? What for?"

"Smuggling," Ginny said.

Rose laughed. She couldn't help it.

"Rosie?" her mum was wide-eyed with concern.

"It's a joke," Rose said, smiling weakly. "Right?" There was a moment's silence. "Right?" she repeated, feeling her heart start to pound desperately in her chest. They all looked very, very serious. Perhaps it wasn't a joke. "Where is he?" she asked after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting for them to laugh. "I want to see him."

"Hey, Ian," Teddy called over to a man who seemed to be on his way out. "The kid they picked up at the raid, he still in interrogation?"

The man nodded. "I reckon so. Ron came through just now for Veritaserum. Guess he wasn't feeling too chatty."

Rose was still trying to process the concept of Scorpius has been arrested. It was Albus who rounded on Teddy. "You gave him Veritaserum?"

Teddy shrugged, looking disappointed. "They have to do that sometimes Al, if they can tell someone's lying. I told him to answer -"

"You can't give him Veritaserum!" Albus shouted, almost manic.

"Albus, calm down," his mother said, trying to pull him back, but he shook her off.

"Teddy, Scorp's allergic to Moonsilver!" Albus said desperately.

Rose started. "What?" she said, shaking her head. "He is?" Suddenly she remembered the incident in fourth year. She hadn't been there, of course, but Al and the other boys had told her. It hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time, and she had completely forgotten.

"It took us hours to wake him up after just touching it," Al said, waving his hands as if this would make someone do something, anything faster. "Veritaserum's got pure liquid Moonsilver in it, they could kill him!"

"Oh shit," Teddy said, eyes widening as he caught on at last. He turned and started to run, down a corridor flanked on either side by Aurors.

Rose looked at Albus. His face was full of fear, the kind of fear she had been feeling all day but hadn't let herself show, magnified a hundred times. By unspoken agreement, they ran after Teddy. The Aurors, surprised, tried to stop them, but Al grabbed Rose's arm and pulled her past before they could even draw their wands. Behind her she could hear her mum shouting something. She hoped she was telling them to stand aside, not to go after them, but she couldn't be sure.

It wasn't hard to figure out which way they had to go. They just followed the shouting, taking a right, then a left turn before finding an open door that seemed to be the source of all the commotion. When they drew up to the doorway, panting, Rose saw Teddy arguing with her father. She only glanced at them for a second before she looked around to see her uncle Harry, wand out, muttering as he cast some kind of spell over Scorpius' prone body. "Scorp!" she screamed, lunging forward. Albus caught her around the waist and dragged her back. "Let me go!" she yelled at him, but he held firm.

"Rose, you can't help him," he said, holding her with a grip so strong she wouldn't have thought him capable of it. "Let them -"

"Rose?" her father looked shocked and confused. "What are you doing here?"

"What did you do to him?" she screamed, her hair twisting free from its plait and springing around her face as she struggled. "What did you do?"

"Harry?" Hermione had appeared, miraculously, behind them. She pushed past Albus and Rose and, drawing her wand, went to kneel beside the body. No, Rose told herself, trying desperately to think through the panic. Not the body. It's not a body. It's Scorpius.

"Oh thank Merlin," Harry sighed. Rose stopped struggling long enough to see that her uncle was sweating and pale. His dark hair hung limply over the rims of his glasses. "He's not breathing, Hermione. I've done everything I can but something's shut down his respiratory system completely. It's all I can do to keep his airways open."

"Moonsilver," Albus said, relaxing his hold slightly but not letting go.

"I'm fine," Rose said, slapping at her cousins's hands. "I'm fine." He let go, and she stood helplessly, watching.

"How long?" her mum asked as she knelt and took over the spell.

"Maybe two minutes," Harry replied, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Ron was going to go for help when Teddy came."

"Ron, go to St Mungos," Hermione ordered, without looking up.

"But -"

"Right now, Ron. Tell them we have a severe Moonsilver reaction, get someone from Potion and Plant Poisoning here as soon as you can and tell them to bring a return Portkey. Go!"

"Mum," Rose said quietly after her father had Apparated away. Scorpius' face was white, except for the dark circles under his eyes. He wasn't moving. She didn't want to interrupt, she didn't want to make it worse, but she had to know. "Mum… is he okay? Is he..."

"Teddy, get them out of here," Harry said, glancing up for a second.

"Dad!" Albus protested.

"Al, if you want what's best for your friend, take Rose out of here and wait for us at the hospital, understand? Apparate straight there. Go!"

Albus' expression twisted with indecision. Teddy came over and practically shoved them out of the room. "Come on," he said, and Disapparated. Rose closed her eyes, did a half turn, and followed him, ignoring the fact that she still wasn't legally permitted to Apparate. She opened her eyes in St Mungo's waiting room, and there was the crack behind her of Albus following. Teddy led her to a chair, and she sat in it.

She felt numb. The sight of Scorpius lying limp and lifeless on the ground kept playing over and over in her head. Her breathing would only come in short gasps. She couldn't speak.

"I don't get it," Al said, running a hand through his hair so that it stuck up ridiculously at the back. "They can't just give him Veritaserum. There are laws, and rules and things… how could this happen?"

"Ron said he agreed to it," Teddy said. His hair had gone a depressing shade of greyish brown, and he was very pale. "I was trying to tell him about the Moonsilver, and he said Scorpius signed the forms. Why would he do that if he knew…"

"…it could kill him?" Albus finished.

There was a horrible silence for a moment while the implications of that sank in. Rose stared down at her hands. She needed to do something but there was nothing to do.

"I better go and see what's happening," Teddy said after a while. "You two stay here."

Rose listened to him go without looking up. Albus sat beside her and didn't say anything else.

A few minutes later, Teddy came back with her parents and Uncle Harry, all looking grim. Albus stood up. Rose didn't think she could move at all.

"He's going to be fine," Hermione said gently. "It might take a few days, perhaps a week. The Healers are doing all they can."

Rose heard Albus let out a deep breath. She wasn't sure what she should be feeling. Relief? It seemed too late for relief. Her stomach was all twisted up in knots that felt like they would never come apart again.

"How did you two get in, anyway?" Harry said sternly, switching to angry dad mode now that the immediate danger was over.

"That was my fault," Teddy admitted. "I went to find them, and it just seemed like the right thing to do to bring them back to the office. Sorry, Harry."

"Went to find them where?" Ron demanded suddenly.

"Ron," Hermione warned. "Don't."

Albus crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. "We went to Paris," he said.

"What?" Harry looked appalled.

Ginny put a hand on Harry's arm. "It's all right dear. They're fine. Teddy found them."

"Ted, you knew about this?" Harry asked sternly. Teddy looked sheepish.

"No, he didn't." Albus frowned. "We never told him. How did you know where to find us, Teddy?"

All eyes seemed to turn on Teddy. He sighed. "Scorpius told me, all right? He said he saw Rose outside the house."

"You went to Paris?" Ron demanded suddenly, rounding on Rose. "To that man's house? Do you have any idea how dangerous -"

"Ron!"

"Don't 'Ron' me, Hermione, they have no idea what they were walking into!"

"Ron, you're scaring her!"

Rose was only hearing the shouting as though from far away. She still felt numb all over, as though she were dreaming, except she couldn't remember ever feeling this physically sick in a dream. She heard her parents muttering together for a moment, and then her father came over, gingerly as though afraid she might explode.

"Rosie?" he said gently. He put a hand on her shoulder but she pulled away. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

With that the world seemed to come flooding back, and with it all the anger that had been held back by her fears for Scorpius. She wiped her eyes and glared at her father. "Yes, Dad!" she exclaimed, slapping her palm against the arm of the chair. "I want to know why my boyfriend was arrested. I want to know what he did that was so terrible that you poisoned him!"

"It was an accident, sweetheart," her mum said, as though that would make her feel any better.

"Oh I bet," she said, feeling tears come to her eyes but too angry to let them fall. "Dad hates Scorpius, he's always hated him!" She put her head in her hands.

At this point the group, which happened to include the Harry Potter, had attracted a significant amount of attention from the other people in the waiting room. Ron started to say something, an explanation that Rose didn't want to hear, but Harry interrupted.

"Ron," he said. "We can't talk about it here."

Rose closed her eyes and tried to shut them all out. If she wished hard enough, really hard enough, would she be able to wake up? Could she start this day all over again? Would that even help?

"I better get out of here," her uncle was saying, muffled but still audible. "I'll go update the Department and check in with inventory and the task force. At least the whole day wasn't a complete disaster. Ron, go check security on the ward. No, that's an order. Ted, with me. Someone has to help me break the news to Kingsley. Gin, Hermione…"

"We'll stay," Ginny said. "We left Hugo at our house. James can look after him and Lily."

"He'll love that," Albus muttered. He sat down again, next to Rose. She peeked at him through her fingers, unable to help herself, and saw that his hands were shaking slightly.

The men left, Ron with a regretful backwards look. Hermione put an arm around Rose's shoulders. "Don't blame them, love," she said softly. "They didn't know."

"Scorp knew," Albus said darkly. "He knew. Teddy said he signed papers… he let them give him that potion."

"I don't believe that," Rose said, the words coming through thick and heavy in her mouth. "I don't believe he would do that. They must have made him sign… threatened him somehow…"

"Rose Charlotte Weasley." She looked up to see her mother, red-faced, looking at her extremely sternly. "Don't you dare accuse your father or uncle like that," she snapped. "Especially not in public, you silly girl." There was slightly less attention now there were four rather than seven people, but Harry's exit in full view of the crowd meant that eyes and ears were still on them. "Do you want that to be the headline of tomorrow's Prophet? Do you want to ruin your father's career? Not to mention you should never even think such things. Your father is a good and honourable man, and so is your uncle, and well you know it."

Rose felt her anger crumple like parchment in the face of her mum's glare. "I'm sorry," she said, unable to stop her voice breaking in her throat. "I'm sorry, it's just… I don't understand… I don't see why any of this is happening. Why did they arrest him? He's not a dark wizard. He wouldn't… he couldn't hurt anyone, not ever. Mum, I know him."

"I know dear," her mum said, softening in the face of her daughter's tears.

Ginny pulled out her wand and incanted, "Muffliato".

"Ginny," Hermione sighed.

"What? It's not illegal, as much as you'd like it to be." Albus' mum sat down opposite them. "I'm afraid we really don't know much," she said, low, under the muffling charm. "Harry and Ron went out on a raid this afternoon. They had intelligence that a Shadow delivery was going to be made to a shop in Wizarding London. They never expected Scorpius would be the one doing the delivery."

Rose felt her heart sink, even as a few things that had been nagging at the back of her mind started to fall into place. "Scorp… working for the Shadow?"

Albus made a weird sort of choking noise. Rose ignored him. "But he wouldn't," she said, wiping her eyes angrily. "I mean… he just wouldn't. How would he even know the… Shadow..."

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other.

"Oh my god," Rose said, tears forgotten in the midst of the cold possibility that suddenly filled her, like ice water. "The Shadow, it's -"

"Albus?" Ginny asked suddenly. "Are you all right? You've gone pale."

Rose looked at her cousin. He certainly was pale, and his eyes were looking somewhat panicked behind his glasses. "I… not sure," he said, swallowing. "Something's weird… I…"

"What on earth is it now?" Hermione muttered, pulling out her wand while Ginny held the back of her hand to her son's forehead.

"It's like… I can't think," Al said, as though he were forcing out the words. "I'm trying…"

"Well, we're in the right place for it," Hermione said sensibly. "Tell me if you're going to vomit, won't you?"

"I'm not going to vomit!" he exclaimed. "At least I hope not."

"I'll get a Healer," Ginny said quickly.

"I'm not sick, Mum," Al protested. "It's just…" He seemed to struggle for a moment before giving up and sitting back in his chair.

"I'm getting a Healer," Ginny repeated, firmly, and hurried away.

"This is very odd," Hermione said, waving her wand in front of Albus' eyes. "Has anyone done any spells on you lately?"

"Not that I know of," Al growled. "Except Rose's disillusionment charms."

"It's deep, whatever it is." She frowned and pulled some parchment from her pocket, conjuring a self-inking quill and scribbling madly.

"Whatever what is?" Rose demanded, looking with concern between her mum and her cousin. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, dear."

Rose blinked and sat back. She couldn't remember the last time her mum hadn't known the answer to anything. But how could anything be wrong with Albus? He hadn't drunk any dangerous potions.

Ginny came back with a women in lime green Healer's robes, who poked at Al with her wand for a minute and examined Hermione's meticulous notes. At first she tried to get them to wait, saying it was only a minor case, but Hermione flashed an important-looking piece of Ministry parchment at her and she balked. "Right away Ms Weasley," she said. "Do follow me."

She took them up to the fourth floor, Spell Damage, passing Potion and Plant Poisoning along the way. Rose looked down the corridor, in the vague hope of seeing some sign of Scorpius, but saw nothing but Healers. They found Al a bed in a ward full of people with weird maladies, including a man with what looked like a pumpkin for a head, and another with bat ears - a botched attempt at Animagery, perhaps. The Healer hurried off, promising to send in an expert. A man came in a few minutes later, did the same diagnostic spells, and frowned. He said very little, but promised to return after doing some research.

"Well this is just great," Albus sighed, falling back onto his pillows.

"Mum," Rose said when she thought they were finally out of earshot of anyone who might care. "When we were at the house… Scorp's house, in Paris… um, someone tried to curse us." Albus gave her an amazed look, as though unable to believe she would bring this up considering the trouble they were already in. "What I mean is," she added quickly, before anyone could interrupt. "Maybe it hit him. Maybe that's what this is."

"It didn't hit me," Albus said with confidence. "I felt it go past."

"All right, but what else could it be?" she asked.

"I know it wasn't that, because whoever was trying to get rid of us would have used something stronger than a weird icky feeling that only hits you three hours later," Al said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway I feel fine now."

"He does look better," Ginny admitted. "Perhaps he's just getting the flu, or something."

"Perhaps," Hermione agreed, though she didn't look at all convinced. "Rose, will you be all right here for a bit?"

"Yeah of course," she said, turning back from inspecting Al's face, which did look a better colour. "Where are you going?"

"I left work rather suddenly," her mum replied. "I had better go and sort some things out. I won't be long." She didn't quite meet Rose's eyes when she said this, and Rose got the feeling that she wasn't been told the whole story, or the right story at all. Any other time she might have argued, pointed out that she was not a child and didn't need to be protected from the truth. But she was tired. So tired. It was only getting on eight o'clock, but she'd been up since four, not to mention all the stress of the last few hours. To the sound of Al insisting to his mother that he was fine, she curled up in the uncomfortable hospital chair and rested her eyes.

She didn't think she would sleep - how could she sleep, with all this going on? - but when she opened her eyes again, the clock on the wall said eleven thirty. Al had nodded off into his pillows.

She sat up, wincing at the ache in her back from the awkward position. What had woken her, she realised, was the conversation now taking place opposite the bed. A conversation or an argument, she wasn't sure. Her mother was back, and her father and uncle as well. They seemed to be arguing about what was wrong with Albus. She shook him awake and they both listened.

"You said," her mum was saying. "That some of the people you bring in aren't able to talk about the Shadow. That even if they want to, there's some kind of spell that makes them forget."

"Forget, confused, dumb, we're not really sure," Ron replied. "That's what we think happened to the Malfoy boy."

"It makes sense," Harry agreed. "If what we think is right. You couldn't live in the same house with the man and not notice something was going on."

"But Harry, that's what I'm telling you," Hermione said. "Albus started feeling strange as soon as we started talking about the Shadow. He couldn't even express what was really wrong with him, and now he seems to have forgotten all about it -"

"Wait," Rose's uncle said, his tone dangerous, "Hermione, are you telling me that my own son is involved with the Shadow?" Albus made an odd jerking motion beside Rose, but she shook her head at him. She wanted to hear.

"No of course I'm not!" Hermione waved her hands in exasperation.

"But if he doesn't know anything, why would he be cursed?" Ginny said softly. She seemed to be the only one who wasn't confused in a violently explosive way. "How would he be cursed? It doesn't make sense."

"The Shadow is a smuggler," Hermione explained, slowly as if talking to children. "He deals in cursed objects. I doubt the curse is as simple as your standard wand-to-brain. It's subtle, deep, very intricate magic. Diagnostic spells reveal only the slightest trace of anything wrong, that you might not even notice if you weren't looking for it specifically. I expect it was something they were both exposed to over a long period of time."

"In the dormitory," Rose said suddenly. She didn't even realise that she had said it aloud until she looked up and they were all staring at her. "The boys' dormitory," she repeated. "In Ravenclaw Tower. Probably one of Scorpius' things from home."

"Fan-bloody-tastic," Albus muttered. "I've been bespelled by an evil belt buckle, or something."

Harry and Ron looked at each other doubtfully. "That's going to be hard to prove without the object itself," Harry sighed. "And you can bet Malfoy will destroy whatever it is if he knows we've got his son."

"You'll need the object to reverse the spell as well," Rose pointed out. They all looked at her again. "Well, won't you?"

"She's right," Hermione said, with a touch of pride as well as concern.

"You know," Harry said frowning. "I'm still not sure about the whole Malfoy-is-the-Shadow theory."

"Harry," Ron sighed, as though they had already had this argument. "Come on mate. His own son as a courier. What more proof do you need?"

"All right, but there's still a problem. The Shadow really started up in central Europe about twelve years ago, right?"

Rose got there first. "But that's not right," she said quickly. "Scorpius' family were poor before he came to Hogwarts. He couldn't even afford new books and things."

"According to our most reliable sources, Malfoy only started making money five or six years ago," Harry agreed. "Decent money, maybe four years."

"So the title gets passed around," Ron said, looking angry. "We knew that was a possibility. Honestly I can remember a time you tried to pin everything on Malfoy."

"Because he actually did it, you two just wouldn't listen."

"Well, listen to me now, mate. I know its him. Kingsley agrees, Percy agrees. The case is blown wide open, and now it turns out he's done some kind of ancient Dark Magic on your son. What are you going to do about it? Sir," he added, with just a hint of sarcasm.

Harry did not seem convinced. "Fine," he said. "But we still have to catch him before we can charge him."

Rose interpreted the pained look on Albus' face for him. "Why don't you just… go to his house?" she suggested. She thought she would feel guilty about saying it. It was her boyfriend's father, after all. But she found she didn't care at all.

"We sent a task force already," Harry explained. "Nothing there. He must have cleaned out. Don't look at me like that, Ron. She deserves to know. They both do. Anyway it won't be a secret when the Prophet hears about it - no offence, Gin. What a disaster."

~*-R-*~

The disaster, however, did not truly become apparent until the next day. They left the hospital at midnight, after confirming that the curse on Albus, or Scorpius for that matter, could not be reversed without the enchanted object that had cursed them in the first place. Rose wanted to stay, but Hermione convinced her there was nothing she could do. Scorpius was stable, they were told, but the danger of a Moonsilver reaction was that the deep sleep it put you in was near impossible to woken from. It would be hours, if not days, before any progress was made. So, reluctantly, she allowed herself to be taken home, and went to bed without argument.

She did not sleep well. She kept waking suddenly, the image of Scorpius lying on the floor of the interrogation room, pale and lifeless, burned into the back of her eyelids.

First thing in the morning she wanted to go back to the hospital, but her mum wouldn't go until they had all had breakfast, and Hugo had to be dropped off at Ginny's where she was writing from home. Albus insisted he was fine and said he was coming too. And he was fine, Rose realised, unless he tried to talk about the Shadow. She could tell it was confusing for him, especially since the subject kept coming up so often. But Ginny was hesitant to let him go for that same reason.

"Mum, I'm seventeen," he had to say eventually. "You can't stop me going."

"Oh, bad choice of words," said James as he was walking past.

"You are staying here if I have to tie you to your bed," Ginny snapped. "And that is final."

So Rose and Hermione went to the hospital alone. "Mum, what's Aunt Ginny so worried about?" Rose asked when they were safely through the Floo - yesterday's illegal Apparating incident had apparently been overlooked, but Rose doubted she would get the chance to repeat it. "So he can't talk about the Shadow, what's the big deal?"

"You had better ask your dad about that," Hermione said sombrely. Neither Ron nor Harry had come home the previous night.

"Poor Alby," Rose sighed. "Do you think it's affected Peter and Gaius as well?"

"Quite possibly, though there's not much we can do about it if it has," Hermione replied. She showed her piece of paper to the Welcome Witch, who directed them straight up to the third floor.

"Risky curse," Rose said, chattering to distract herself from the insistent pounding of her heart. "Depending on the thaumic radial parameters, it might have affected the whole of Ravenclaw Tower. Though I guess we know it didn't reach the girls' dormitories, because I don't have any problem talking about -"

"Hush dear,' her mother said, not unkindly. "It's a public place."

"But it's not a secret, is it?" Rose said, lowering her voice just in case as they came out onto the Poisons floor. "I mean that he's here? Scorp?"

"We managed to keep it out of the Prophet for now," her mother said. "The details, at least. There was a piece this morning about the raid, and that two men were taken into custody, but we kept his name out of it, with Ginny's help. It won't last," she added, seeing the hopeful expression on Rose's face. "People will know what he did, whether or not he's found to be innocent."

"He is innocent," Rose insisted. "At least… maybe he did it, but I know he must have had a good reason. He wouldn't ever hurt anyone, Mum, not on purpose."

There was an Auror standing outside the room where Scorpius was. He was wearing a tweed jacket and pretending to read a newspaper, but it wasn't very convincing, particularly when he saw Hermione and stood to attention. "How are we doing, Thomson?" Hermione asked. Rose glanced at her in surprise. Sometimes she forgot that her mother had such a high position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She tended to imagine her mum sitting behind a desk most of the time, not ordering Aurors about or aiding interrogations.

"Stable," the Auror said, folding up his newspaper. "Still hasn't woken up, but he's breathing on his own now."

"Moonsilver poisoning weakens a wizard's power," Hermione explained to Rose. "It makes it harder for him to heal himself."

Rose swallowed. "Is he in pain?"

Hermione paused for a moment. "I don't think so. From what I know the worst symptom is the deep sleep. Some people have reported having nightmares, vivid dreams, even visions." She made a cynical face, as if she doubted that last one.

"They thought I was allergic to Moonsilver when I was a kid," Thomson said jovially. "Turned out it was actually shellfish."

"Can't they do anything?" Rose asked. "Give him a potion or something, to help?"

"More potions might make him worse," Hermione said gently. "He has to do this on his own."

Rose swallowed. "Can I see him?"

"Sorry Miss." Thomson shook his head. "My orders are not to open this door to anyone but Mr Potter or the Minister himself. Except for the Healers, of course."

"I'm here."

Rose looked around to see her uncle, closely followed by her dad.

"Harry," Hermione scolded. "You look like you haven't slept a wink."

"Very observant of you," Harry muttered.

"And Ron, you're not much better. Did you at least achieve anything whilst purposely ignoring your body's natural rhythm?"

"Unlikely." Ron shook his head. "The task force has been all over the house. Malfoy's cleaned out. We've probably got enough evidence to prove he was involved, but hardly enough to show he's the mastermind behind the whole operation. It doesn't help when five different Ministries are fighting for the rights to investigate. The French Ministry is all up in arms, putting up flooblocks all over the place. Metaphorically," he added, on seeing her expression.

"What about Scorp's things?" Rose asked. "To reverse the spell?"

"They found some stuff under a loose floorboard in his wardrobe," Harry said, looking pained. "And some clothes and books. They're testing it all now but I honestly don't hold out much hope. Something that dark, Malfoy would have made sure to take it with him."

"We'll find it," Hermione said soothingly, but Rose wasn't much in the mood to be soothed.

"Can I see him now?" she asked, not bothering to hide her impatience.

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Rosie," her father said, in a tone that suggested this was the last thing he wanted. "He's not… not in great shape. Maybe you should wait, until -"

"No." Rose drew herself up. "I'm an adult, Dad, and even prisoners get visitation rights."

"Patient in custody," Harry corrected quickly.

"Whatever. Let me see him right now, or I'll… I'll report you!" She didn't have the faintest idea how to do this or who to, except the Minister for Magic, but she'd be damned if she was stuck with that memory of him lying on the ground for another day.

Her dad sighed. "All right, all right. I wasn't going to stop you."

"Open up, Thomson," Harry said, nodding.

Thomson drew his wand. "Right away sir. Better let me go first, Miss, just in case."

Rose rolled her eyes, but stood back and let the three Aurors enter the room ahead of her. She closed her eyes for a moment, preparing herself, swearing to be strong whatever it was she was about to see. She felt her mother's hand at her back, and she opened her eyes again.

Immediately she could sense that something was wrong. The three men were all tensed, and as she watched they all drew their wands.

"You've got to be kidding me," Harry snapped. "Thomson, who's been in here since you last looked in?"

Thomson's eyes were wide, his wand hand white around the shaft. "I… sir, I… no one, sir, just a Healer or two… he was here an hour ago sir, I swear -"

Rose turned her head, feeling her heart sink lower even than it had in the last two days. There was a hospital bed, and a little table, and a couple of little plastic chairs. But that was all. The bed was empty. Scorpius was gone.

Chapter Text

In the dream, he was in a forest. That much he could tell, from all the trees and suchlike. Normally he would have been annoyed by this, as no one could ever have accused him of being, well, woodsy, but it was very quiet under the canopy of branches. It was soothing. Peaceful, somehow. He sat at the base of an enormous tree and looked up at the gap in the canopy at the night sky. Somewhere far out there, the stars twinkled down at him. He wasn't sure how he had got here, but since it was a dream, he supposed he didn't have to know. He would just wait here until it was time to wake up again.

"You're lost," said a voice from somewhere, cutting through the peace of the forest.

He looked around, surprised. On the edge of the clearing there was a little boy, maybe ten or eleven, brown-haired and round-faced. He was dressed in Hogwarts robes that were slightly too big for him, including a Gryffindor tie knotted carelessly around his neck.

"Am I?" he asked the boy.

"You shouldn't be here. That's why they call it Forbidden." There was something oddly familiar about this boy, but he was a Gryffindor, and Scorpius didn't know many Gryffindors who weren't Weasleys. And he was almost definitely a first year in any case, and he really didn't know any first years. Had school started again without him?

"You're here though," he pointed out. He was so comfortable under the tree. He didn't see why he should have to move.

"I'm meant to be here," the boy explained. "So are they." He pointed away into the forest.

Scorpius turned again. Walking through the trees in the other direction were two small figures. From here, all he could see was that one of them had pale blonde hair.

Curiousity peaked, he got up and went to get a proper look. The boys didn't notice him as he drew closer, but since it was a dream he supposed that made sense. "What are they doing?" he asked aloud. "Why are they here?"

The boy, the one who knew he was there, came up beside him. "The dragon brought them," he said, sombre.

The boys were moving fast, stamping and crashing their way untidily through the undergrowth. One was blond and very pale, the other dark-haired and bespectacled. There was a dog too, Scorpius saw, skulking along beside them. Before them, on the forest floor, something shone, silvery and bright.

"That one's Albus," Scorpius said, pointing to the boy with glasses. The trees and brush didn't give him as much trouble as it gave the two boys. He seemed to be able to walk right past it all, as though it wasn't really real. "And the other... is it… me?"

"Do you remember being here?" the boy scoffed. "Look harder."

Scorpius wasn't sure he wanted to look harder, but he had walked ahead, now, and the boys were coming towards him instead of away.

"This is ridiculous," the blond one was saying. "When my father hears about this -"

"Just shut up and keep walking, Malfoy," said the other one, the one Scorpius had thought was Albus. But it wasn't Albus, he saw quite clearly now. This boy was smaller, skinnier than Albus had been at eleven. His glasses were held together with spellotape, and just visible under his fringe was the end of a lightning-shaped scar. And he was a Gryffindor, and the blond one was a Slytherin.

"Don't tell me to shut up, Potter," the blonde one muttered.

Scorpius wondered what they were doing here, together, especially if they were who he thought they were.

"The sooner we find the unicorn, the sooner we can go back," the one with glasses said, in a would-be-calm voice. "Come, Fang." The dog whined.

"I thought you said it was a dragon," Scorpius said, turning to look at the round-faced boy, but he was gone. In his place was a young man, maybe his own age. He had dark, overgrown hair and his robes were torn, and he was even more familiar than he had been before. Scorpius blinked at him. "Profe - I mean - Neville?"

The boy smiled. "Don't miss it. This is my favourite part."

Scorpius turned back. The boys had stopped walking. The one who had to be Harry Potter had his arm out to stop the other one from moving forward. The expression on the blond boy's face was one of utter terror. His mouth was half-open, his eyes wide and his bottom lip trembling. "Father?" Scorpius breathed.

There was something there, something they were looking at, but Scorpius couldn't see it. As he watched, the boy that was his father let out a blood-curdling scream and fled, crashing off through the brush.

"Told you," Neville said.

"What did he see?" Scorpius asked. "What's he so afraid of?"

"You know what he's afraid of." As Scorpius watched, gouge marks appeared on Neville's face, and one of his eyes became swollen and bruised black.

"What's happening to you?"

Neville didn't answer, but pointed out towards the trees.

Scorpius turned again, with a sense of awful foreboding, dreading what he might be about to see. The clearing was suddenly full of figures, dark and shadowy, not quite visible to him except for a few. His grandfather was there, looking younger but no less pathetic than when Scorpius had last seen him, and his grandmother, standing still and expressionless. And behind them…

If it had not been a dream, Scorpius was sure he would have screamed. He might have screamed anyway, but if he did it was lost in the depths of the forest. Standing in the centre was a tall, hideous figure, white-skinned and bald with catlike red eyes. It had no lips, and its hands had unnaturally long fingers.

"I thought he would come," it said, and its voice was high and clear and terrible. "I expected him to come."

"I know right?" said Neville, behind him, but Scorpius could not take his eyes off the creature. "Look at him. Any sane person would run a mile."

"I was, it seems… mistaken," the creature muttered.

"You weren't." The voice came from the edge of the clearing, loud and forceful and familiar. Scorpius tore his eyes away to see Albus - no, not Albus, it was so easy to confuse them - and there was a great roaring around him like the outcry of a hundred angry trolls.

"Any sane person," Neville sighed. "I happen to know a few heroes."

The scene changed. The world around them blurred, and suddenly the forest was gone, replaced by stone walls and mirrors. "Wait!" Scorpius shouted. "Where - what happened?"

"You know what happened." Neville's face was almost unrecognisable now with bruises, and his robes were in worse shape than ever.

Scorpius glared at him. "I wish you'd stop doing that."

"There's more you need to see. Here."

Scorpius looked up. "Er… a bathroom? A... Hogwarts bathroom?" Another, more detailed glance around took in certain other aspects he hadn't noticed before. "A girl's bathroom?"

"Probably the most important room in the place, when you think about it. Historically, anyway."

There was a puddle of water on the floor, near the corner, and there, and also at the same time, not there, was a girl's body, prone and lifeless. Scorpius took half a step towards her before hesitating. "What… what's wrong with her?"

"She's dead. It happens. And she made history. People forget that." The water spread until it covered the whole floor.

Scorpius swallowed. He had never seen a dead person before, that he could remember. "Can't we do anything?"

"Not unless you have a time turner and an unhealthy disregard for ineffability."

As Scorpius watched, the body faded away, and then there were three people, sitting around a cauldron. It was hard to see their faces, but Scorpius could hear them speak. Their voices echoed around the tiled walls like shadows.

"I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients," said one, a girl.

"A month?" demanded a young boy's voice. "Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!" Scorpius flinched and stared at the speaker. He was very young, twelve or so, and he had red hair. "The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better."

And then the cauldron was gone, and in its place was a blond boy about Scorpius' own age. He was leaning over one of the sinks, and breathing heavily as though he might be sick. Scorpius came up behind him and looked at the reflection in the mirror.

"Uncanny," said Neville. "No wonder people assume you're just like him."

"He is my father," Scorpius said, watching Draco's face. He had never seen his father cry. Never even seen him vulnerable, except perhaps when he was at his most angry. That was his way of dealing with vulnerability, Scorpius could see now. "He's so sad," he said, as the boy began to sob.

"You noticed."

"Don't." There was another voice, and Scorpius jumped and looked around. A dead girl was standing behind them, but she wasn't reflected in the mirror. Nothing to reflect, Scorpius realised, in the part of his mind that wasn't watching every tear that fell from his father's eyes, every shake of his shoulders. "Don't…" the girl continued, crooning cattishly in a way that was somehow unseemly. "Tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"

"No one can help me," Draco said hoarsely through his tears. "I can't do it.. I can't… it won't work… and unless I do it soon…"

Scorpius was so intent on watching, on comprehending that at some point his father had had emotions other than anger, that he only noticed the third person in the mirror at the same time as his father did. They both span round, Draco drawing his wand. Scorpius reached for his, instinctively, but of course he was only dreaming, and in any case it wasn't there.

A lamp exploded - a stray curse.

"No! No! Stop it!" the ghost was screaming. "STOP!"

Curses were flying everywhere and Scorpius could barely see what was happening, he kept trying to duck the curses before remembering that they couldn't harm him. A bin exploded, then a cistern, water started to pour everywhere, and then Draco opened his mouth and Scorpius knew, knew what he was going to do, knew with a dreadful kind of sick certainty. "Don't!" he shouted, as if it could do any good.

"Cruc -"

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" shouted the attacker. Dark hair and glasses.

Scorpius watched in horror as blood poured from Draco's face and chest, staining through his chest as though he had been stabbed all over. He fell, and Scorpius ran to him, kneeling in the puddle of water and blood as he tried to stop the bleeding with hands that would not, could not, make contact. He looked up to see the attacker also fall to his knees, water splashing up and fogging his glasses, his uniform accented with Gryffindor colours and his wet fringe parting in the centre to reveal the lightning scar. Harry Potter. Of course it was.

"Stop!" Scorpius shouted, looking up at Neville where he stood silently, watching. "Stop this! He's dying!"

"He won't die," Neville said calmly, even while the ghost girl was screaming "MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!" and the water around Scorpius' knees turned redder and redder. "Would you even care if he did?"

"Of course I care!" Scorpius yelled at him. "He's my - "

"Are you sure?" Neville asked, and the scene blurred around them again. The young Harry Potter disappeared, and with it, the bloody water. Scorpius was left kneeling on the cold, cold floor.

Draco was there. Not hurt, but standing, leaning against the door. He was very pale and thin-looking, with dark circles under his eyes that looked almost like bruising. He was looking repulsed. It was an expression Scorpius recognised. On the other side, two hulking boys were washing their hands. The water coming off their fingers was as bloody as that Scorp had just been kneeling in.

"That was fun," one of the boys sniggered. Scorpius didn't know him, but he made a guess at Vincent Crabbe, one of his father's school friends. The other one was certainly Goyle, with the same small dull eyes and long, bulging gorilla arms. "I liked that moaning sound he made."

"Yeah, too bad Longbottom butted in just when it was getting interesting," Goyle growled. "We should arrange for him to have an accident sometime soon."

"I'd rather just try out one of my new curses on him," said Crabbe.

"Yes, that'll be really good for your reputation when he tosses you on your behind, Vincent," Draco sighed. "Longbottom's too good a dueller these days."

"Now isn't that interesting," Neville said, grinning. When Scorpius looked at him, there was blood dripping off his chin. There was a deep gouge in his face from just under his eye to the bottom of his chin. He recognised it as the scar his Neville still wore. He wondered why on earth the boy was still grinning with blood dripping off him like that.

"Anyway he's got a new hidey hole, according to Umbridge," Draco continued. "If you two are too lazy to walk to the boy's bathroom, no way you'll ever find him."

"Then we'll find that first year again and finish him," Crabbe snickered. "He can't hide behind Longbottom's skirts all the time, 'specially now that Weasley girl's gone, and good riddance."

"I want the first year," Goyle protested, in a way that made Scorpius instantly sick to his stomach.

"Don't you two think about anything else?" Draco asked in a bored tone.

"Sorry, Draco," Goyle muttered.

"Aw, he's just griping 'cos he's not top in Dark Arts anymore," Crabbe laughed, play-punching Draco in the arm as he walked past.

The blond boy hissed and grabbed at his forearm as if he'd been burned. "Watch it, lunkhead!" Draco hissed, cradling the arm against his chest.

Crabbe seemed unconcerned, though Goyle looked slightly perplexed. "Come on Greg," Crabbe said. "Let Draco sulk. I bet Professor Carrow will let us stay up and play." He grinned nastily and shoved past into the hallway.

"Oh, just go," Draco snapped, when Goyle looked torn. "Go beat up some defenceless Hufflepuffs, if that's all you're good at."

"He never did much like getting his hands dirty," Neville said darkly.

"I don't want to see any more of this," Scorpius replied. The back of his neck felt very hot, and his stomach was churning. Considering it was a dream, he felt very ill all of a sudden.

And then Draco was alone again, in the bathroom. Scorpius felt his heart sink, thinking he would have to witness Potter's attack again, but his father's clothes were slightly different, he realised. A different day. But it was the same pose, the same helplessness. The boy wasn't speaking, but Scorpius could hear his voice, desperate and high, from somewhere very high up and very far away. "I haven't got any options! He'll kill me!" he could hear him cry. "He'll kill my whole family!"

Scorpius put out a hand to touch his father's shoulder, but his hand, or perhaps the shoulder, was too insubstantial. He felt only the air where a shoulder should be.

"He's always been sad," he said, heavy with realisation.

Neville came to stand beside him, so that Scorpius could see all three boys in the mirror. Two with pale hair and grey eyes, and one dark-haired and bloody. "There was one day he wasn't."

Scorpius turned away from the mirror. "Tell me its somewhere far away from this godforsaken bathroom."

Neville nodded. He was no longer smiling.

"Show me," Scorpius said, low.

The bathroom was gone, and in its place was a room Scorpius vaguely recognised as a sitting room at Malfoy Manor. It was night, or he guessed it was, from the heavy velvet curtains that covered the tall windows. The only light came from a dim gas lamp on the table, making the place even gloomier than he remembered. What little other furniture there was left in the room was covered in pale grey dust sheets. Draco, now in his twenties, was standing stiffly by the mantelpiece of an unlit fire.

And somewhere nearby, someone was screaming. A woman. It was a harsh, guttural sound, full of pain. It filled the very walls around them, sharp with anguish.

"This?" Scorpius demanded, but Neville was gone, too. It was just him and his father, alone but for the screams. "This is your happy day?" he said, whirling on Draco. The man stared straight through him, his face blank, unreadable. "Someone's in pain! Don't just stand there being useless, do something!"

The man just stood there, staring into the opposite wall. Scorpius tried kicking him, but he should have known that wouldn't work. "You're a coward," Scorpius spat. "A damn coward. You won't even -"

There was one last, terrible scream, and Scorpius put his hands to his ears, unable to bear the sound any longer. When he dared lower them, the screaming had stopped. But then another sound began, a high-pitched, hearty wail. As Scorpius watched, a smile spread over his father's face.

A door opened, and Narcissa Malfoy came through it, looking saner and more well-kempt than the last time Scorp had seen her in real life. "You have a son," she said, simply, closing the door behind her.

"I know." Draco's hand slipped off the mantle and he turned to face his mother. "I heard him."

Scorpius looked from one to the other, only just now comprehending. "Me?" he said softly. Neither of them heard him.

Narcissa came forward and touched her fingertips to Draco's cheek. "A son," she said. "I am so proud of you. Your father is, as well."

"Of course." Draco took his mother's hand gently and lowered it. "That's why he locked himself in the study this morning and hasn't come out."

Narcissa sighed. "He remembers your own birth. Astoria's labour seems momentary compared to the two days he spent at my bedside back then. He will want to celebrate with you tomorrow, I'm sure -"

Draco turned away. "What are we doing here, mother? I mean really. There's nothing left of this house. It isn't good for him. For any of us."

"Draco, this house has been in your father's family - your family - for generations. He will never leave. You know that."

"He clings to what no longer exists." Draco ran a hand through his hair, already starting to recede a little at the temple, though he wasn't even thirty.

"Your father is ill, Draco."

"I know that, mother. He would do better in St Mungos than here."

Narcissa drew herself up, her face a mask of fury. "How dare you! Your father -"

"Because I don't want to see him rot here like the pathetic shade he's becoming! He's falling apart in this place, mother, and so are you. So am I. And if you think I'm about to subject my son to that…"

Narcissa's regality faded away as quickly as it had come. She stared at her son, her hands trembling slightly as she clapsed them together. "What are you saying?"

Draco looked away. "We're leaving. Astoria and I, and the child. As soon as she is well enough."

"But…" Narcissa looked horrified. "But… where on earth will you go?"

"Far. Far away from this place. From Potter and his hero-worshipping Ministry. Paris, perhaps, or Brussels. We both speak the language."

"But Draco…"

"I need a new start, mother. I can't stay here, not with the damn Aurors constantly down my neck and Father looking at me like I killed You-Know-Who with my own bare hands, for Merlin's sake. I did what you wanted, I agreed to marry Astoria. And now I have an heir there's really no reason to stay, anymore."

"Draco, Astoria will need help," Narcissa insisted, trying a change of tactic. "She is a well-bred girl, she will need a wet-nurse and a nanny, and a governess -"

"Were you planning on being all those things, mother?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or did you plan on hiring them? With what, may I ask? You know full well we can't afford to even keep the damn fires lit anymore." He waved a hand dismissively. "Daphne will come with us for a few months to help with the child. It's all arranged. Astoria doesn't want to stay here any more than I do. I'm sorry mother. I would ask you to come with us but I know you'll insist on staying here with him until you both turn to dust. Now if you don't mind, I should like to see my son." He didn't push past, but stepped carefully around his mother and strode towards the door.

Scorpius stared after him, eyes wide and his mouth slightly open.

"Does that surprise you?" Scorpius looked round to see a little girl suddenly standing beside him. It was Alice, but somehow not Alice. She was looking at him in a way the real Alice never would. "That your birth prompted him to change his life?"

Scorpius shivered. The words coming out of her mouth were not those of a five year old, and they sounded terribly off in her girlish little voice. The whole thing was highly disturbing. "It might have been better if he hadn't," he replied.

"Really?" Alice laughed. "You would have liked to grow up in this place? With a grandfather who tried to kill you? Twice?"

Scorpius shook his head. "Can we just… get out of here?" he asked. "I'd really sort of like to go home, now."

"Of course." Alice held out a hand. Somewhat against his better judgement, Scorpius took it.

When the blurry uncertainness stopped, he was somewhere else. It took him a moment to realise it was the Leaky Cauldron, or at least, the apartment above it where the Longbottoms lived. They stood by the fireplace in the living room, behind which were stuck three of Alice's scribble-drawings. One of them was recognisably an owl, the others could have been anything. Just over to the left was Tony's room, where Scorpius had slept for a few days after his grandfather's curse had weakened him. To the right was Lizzie's room, down the end of the corridor the master bedroom. Scorpius wasn't sure where Alice was sleeping these days. But it was all as he remembered it. It seemed like a long, long time since he had been here.

He looked down at Alice. "This is your home," he told her. "Not mine."

Alice beamed at him innocently. "Where is your home then?"

Scorpius opened his mouth to answer, but found himself unable to. Where was his home?

Three men came into the room, but just like before, none of them noticed him or his creepy little-girl guide. One of them was Neville, now the right age and with no bleeding wounds. The furious expression on his face was offset only by the badger on his T-shirt sitting astride the slogan "Huffles Puff It Up". Scorp wondered if he'd lost some sort of bet with Hannah.

The others were Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, looking much as Scorpius had seen them last, except that they were both without any Auror robes or insignia. Scorp supposed that must be their idea of incognito. Neither looked particularly happy to be here in the face of Neville's anger.

Neville drew his wand and flicked it towards the walls with a motion Scorpius recognised as a silencing spell. "Now you better tell me what the hell is going on," he demanded.

"We've been searching all day," Harry said, low. "Still nothing."

"How can there be nothing?" Neville hissed. "He was in your custody for a day and a half! No one thought to put a tracking charm on him?"

"Course we did," Ron protested. "It's been disabled, hasn't it? Malfoy's an idiot, but he's not stupid, you know. We've got people working on locator spells, but that takes time."

"We need your help, Nev," Harry said. "We need to know everything you know about Malfoy. Anywhere he might have gone, anything the boy might have told you…"

"Scorpius doesn't talk about his family," Neville said, in a low tone that was almost a growl. "And I can tell you for sure, he damn well didn't know his father was… that he was the Shadow."

"How do you know?" Ron asked, disbelieving.

Neville glared at him. "I know, Ron. I just know."

"Nev, we want to find him just as much as you do -" Harry started.

"I really doubt that," Neville muttered. "How did Malfoy get through your people, anyway? Tell me you had guards and all kind of security charms on the boy."

"All of the above," Harry assured him. "We're still working on how he got in, but the main thing now is finding him."

"I told you," Neville snapped. "Scorpius doesn't talk about -"

"He told me what you did," Harry interrupted him.

"What?"

"He said you helped him. After his grandfather - "

"He told you about that?" The expression of disbelief on Neville's face was almost comical. "Was this before or after the dose of Veritaserum that put him in a coma?"

Harry winced. "Er, before. I made the suggestion that you might know something, and it all came out. I think he thought I was going to arrest you."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "I'd like to see you try."

"They're looking for me," Scorpius said, frowning. "What happened to me? Where did I go?"

Alice only smiled. It was an adult's smile, a knowing smile, and it looked all wrong on her face.

"You should have told us," Harry was saying.

"He wouldn't let me." Neville pinched the bridge of his nose. "He fell out of the fireplace, shaking and in pain. I've been through that enough times to know what it was. Not to mention nursing Michael and the others back to health, during the war."

"Cruciatus?" Ron looked shocked.

"The worst I've ever seen, and that's saying something. He was in bed three days."

"Bloody hell." Harry shook his head. "And you didn't report it?"

"I told you, he refused to testify. He said…" he paused, looking suddenly guilty.

"What?" Ron asked quickly.

Neville sighed. "He said he didn't want to be responsible for… for sending his family to prison, again."

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"No!" Scorpius shouted, realising how that could sound given the current situation. "That was then! That was different!"

"Lends precedence to the theory he took that Veritaserum on purpose, doesn't it," Ron said.

"I did not!" Scorp yelled.

"Look," Neville said, ever the voice of reason in an unreasonable world. "Scorpius has some… some somewhat fatuous ideas, sometimes…"

"Hey," Scorp protested.

"But I don't believe he would willingly sacrifice his life for his father, Shadow or no. Not like that, not knowing that… he just wouldn't." He shook his head. "Rose might know better than me where he is. Have you asked her?"

"We aren't exactly on speaking terms right now," Ron muttered.

"We asked her," Harry interrupted. "And Albus. No leads so far. I'd like to speak to Lizzie too, though."

"Of course," Neville nodded. "In the meantime, there might be… someone I could ask."

"Yeah?"

"A Seer. She specialises in finding… lost things."

"She?" Ron raised his eyebrows. "Do we know this woman? Does Hannah?"

"Shut it Ron." Neville glared. "I'm not in the mood for games. You just better find him, all right? That boy is… well, at times he's been like a nephew to me. I shall be very upset if you let anything happen to him."

Scorpius felt his stomach clench a little.

"You along with the rest of the world," Ron sighed. "If I'd have known people would worry so much I might have just chained him to the bed."

Scorpius flinched, despite himself. Even Harry looked a little shocked at this statement.

"You know what Ron?" Neville said, in tones as icy cold as Scorpius had ever heard him. "You could learn a lot from Scorpius Malfoy."

"Oh, that's nice," Alice giggled from beside him. "Don't you think that's nice?"

"Fantastic," Scorpius sighed. "Is this show over? I'd like to go back to sleep."

"You are asleep," Alice laughed. "Isn't this more fun than sleeping?"

"Then I need to wake up," he said. On a whim he tried pinching himself. It didn't hurt, and he didn't wake up, but it did get very dark all of a sudden. "Wake up," he told himself firmly. "Wake up so you can find out where you are and how to get home. Well, or the closest thing, then. Wake up." He closed his eyes tight and wished himself awake. When he opened his eyes, he was alone, and it was pitch black. So much for that idea.

"HELLO?" he shouted, taking a tentative step forward. The darkness was unnerving, even in a dream. There was no texture to the ground under his feet, no smell or temperature to the air around him. "Helloooo?"

"Hi."

Scorpius blinked. Suddenly, standing in front of him was a young man. He had dark hair, a long, straight nose and narrow, handsome features. He looked to be about fifteen - he had that slight gangliness that indicated a boy on the brink of manhood. But so far, all the people he had seen had been people he knew, or had at least heard about. This boy was a stranger.

"Let me guess." Scorp said tentatively, looking his new companion up and down. "You're… the ghost of Christmas future?"

The young man frowned. "Sorry, what?"

Scorp sighed. "Am I seriously the only one who reads Dickens? I've seen the past and the present, so you must be here to show me the future. If this dream makes any sense at all."

A smile this time. "Dreams don't usually do that." The boy turned and beckoned over his shoulder. "Come on."

Since there didn't seem to be any alternative, Scorpius followed him. They walked through the empty darkness for a few minutes. Scorpius had the odd feeling that, while he felt peaceful now, when he woke up all this would be a lot more traumatising. If he did wake up. That particularly ugly thought gave him a chill. "So…" he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Am I dying?"

The boy grinned at him. Scorpius wasn't sure if that was a good sign. "Not yet."

"Oh. Good." He decided to ignore the evidence of foreboding behind that remark. After all, everyone died eventually. "So I guess we're going to do the whole gravestone bit," he said, with an attempt at joviality. "I hope my funeral isn't completely unattended. After all its not like I was ever miserly. Didn't have any money to be miserly with."

"If we were playing out that story, I'd be dressed up as a Dementor right now," the boy said.

"Ha," Scorpius said triumphantly. "So you have read it."

"I'm a part of you, just like the others. I've read everything you've read. You're right about one thing," he went on, stopping in the middle of a new patch of darkness that looked just the same as the one they had started in. "Your journey is a warning, just like it was in the story. But it's not about you. You don't need any protection from yourself. Not just at the moment, anyway."

Scorpius blinked. That was just a little too cryptic for his current state of mind to handle, even in a dream. "Do I know you?" he asked instead.

The boy smiled again. "No. But you will."

"Right. Christmas future and all that. So if you aren't trying to get me to change my ways, what are you trying to warn me about?"

The boy made no answer, but gestured ahead. In the distance there was a tiny speck of light, and as they watched, it seemed to be getting gradually bigger.

"Moment of truth," Scorpius muttered, starting to feel anxious. Two years of Divination and he had never once seen even the slightest hint of the future. One time his tea leaves had predicted an incident where he spilled nearly a whole jug of milk, but that was probably a coincidence. He had thought the leaves looked more like an elephant than a jug, anyway. No wonder he had failed his OWL.

The feeling of foreboding worsened as the light split and began to surround them, becoming walls that then became solid, and there was good hard ground beneath his feet… well, some sort of carpet, anyway. He looked around, blinking, letting his eyes adjust to the new scene. It was someone's house. There were pictures on the mantelpiece on the wall opposite that strongly suggested that much. But there was no furniture, at least, not for being used. A few small tables had been pushed against one wall, and these were covered in flowers. It was cold. Not as cold as Durmstrang, but a thick, cloudy sort of cold that suggested a chilling charm. To keep the flowers fresh, maybe. There was a window that looked out over a green summer garden. It was very quiet.

Scorpius turned around and felt his heart stick in his throat. There was a coffin. It was raised up on a bench, and draped in white fabric. Scorpius stared at it.

"I thought you said… how old was I?" he asked after a moment, not daring to look any closer.

The dark-haired boy, standing beside him, shot him a sympathetic look.

"When is this?" Scorp demanded, looking around for some clue, but before he could find one, the door opened, and Albus came in. This time it was definitely Albus, from the formal dress robes with a Ravenclaw tie to the way he pushed the bridge of his glasses up his nose. But he wasn't any older than when Scorpius had last seen him. Not in age, anyway. Emotionally he might have aged a hundred years. His brow was heavily furrowed and his lips were pressed tight together. "Al," Scorp breathed. "Al, what happened? Did something happen to me?" But it was still a dream, and Albus could not hear him. Bleakly he felt a terrible certainty that he had never woken up from the damn Moonsilver coma, if that's what it was.

"What's the point of all this then?" he demanded of the future ghost. "What's the point of this whole bloody mind trip if I'm just going to die?"

"Hush," the boy said, pointing at the coffin. "Watch."

As Scorpius watched, Albus pulled out the Ravenclaw flag that Scorp used to use for cheering at Quidditch matches, and laid it lengthways over the coffin. Then he spoke, his voice low and hoarse. "He's sorry he couldn't be here," he said, pushing back his fringe with hands that shook. "Your dad wouldn't let him anywhere near the house. But he wanted to be here. I tried, I promise, but…" he shook his head, and there were tears streaming from his eyes behind his glasses.

"He's not talking to me," Scorpius said, with a realisation that felt like a kick in the stomach. "He's talking… about me."

"Stupid," Albus was saying through his tears. "Why'd we have to be so stupid?"

"No," Scorpius said, the sickening stab of true realisation plunging into his heart like a knife. "No. This isn't… this can't be…"

He turned and saw again the pictures on the mantelpiece, and this time he saw them properly. He knew the people in them. A mother and father, a son and daughter. A girl with bushy red hair and kind, brown eyes. Shaking he took a step towards the coffin, and then another. The shroud covering her was very thin, and through it he could just make out her face. Rose's dead face.

"This isn't real," he said, looking up at the future ghost. "Tell me this isn't real - tell me it doesn't happen!"

"It happens." There was nothing boyish about the ghost now. His tone was hard, his expression emotionless. "At this time. On this day."

"But why?" Scorpius could feel his own tears coming. If it hadn't been a dream he was sure he would have thrown up right there and then. She couldn't be dead. She just couldn't be. "What happened to her?"

"You know," the ghost replied.

"Don't give me that - don't tell me that! How could I possibly know?"

"You know because of what you have seen." The ghost tilted its head and smiled coldly. "What do you think your dreams have been about?"

Scorpius felt the cold sink deep into his dream self as though he had been dunked in ice. "My… my father." He turned and stared at the coffin with its white shroud, and Albus weeping over his cousin's body. "He did this to her?"

The ghost tilted its head back the other way. "Not yet."

Scorpius looked up, his eyes blazing fire. "Then I can change it," he said, as sure as he knew how. "If it hasn't happened yet… it doesn't have to happen. I can change this."

The ghost smirked. "If you say so."

"I won't let her die!" Scorpius shouted. "I won't! Tell me how to change it!" He reached out to grab the ghost boy by the front of his shirt, but his hands closed on empty air. The boy was gone, and so was the room, and so was Albus. Only the coffin remained, and even that was fading away.

"I'll save her!" he yelled into the dark as the night returned, swallowing him up as it so often did in dreams. "You hear me? I CAN SAVE HER!"

And then there was blackness, and pain, and more blackness, and then, the dream was over.

Chapter Text

2024

~*-S-*~

When he finally woke again, it took him a while to realise it was happening. Strange, alien feelings came over him, one at a time - a dry, dusty texture to his mouth, a disconcerting heaviness in his limbs, a fuzzy, fluffy feeling to his head and a weight over his eyes as if someone had pinned them shut. He had the sensation of having woken several times already, but he had drifted off into the darkness again, unable to rouse himself.

Stay awake, he told himself firmly. Stay… awake…

It was difficult. Something powerful was pulling at him, urging him back into the endless slumber where he was warm, and safe. As he lay there, fighting against it as much as he could, the dream became less a true memory and more a scattering of images and feelings, the way dreams tend to do. But the last image stayed with him, biting at him, forcing him away from the sweet release of sleep and bringing him back to life.

Rose. I have to save Rose. The coffin covered in white and surrounded by flowers. He had to stop it. That was all he knew.

With a great effort and a gigantic force of will, he opened his eyes.

It was dark. He was lying on his back, and the ceiling was very, very far away, and quite unfamiliar. When he turned his head it became clear that he was lying on the floor. As the feeling began to return to his back and legs, he realised it was not a comfortable floor at all, and there was only a thin pallet between him and it, and his back was one big ache.

Groaning, he forced himself up onto one elbow. The hard wood of the floor banged against the bone as he lifted his head up. It hurt, but he felt a little less fuzzy afterward. Catching on, he found his other hand and pinched himself on the crook of the arm. That gave him enough brain power to try and work out what in Merlin's name was going on.

Someone had covered him with a cloak. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was that he stank, as if he hadn't washed in days. Further exploration of his own body revealed that there was dried urine on his trousers. Nice. They were the same clothes he had been wearing on the day of his arrest, minus the robes. Something told him that that day was long gone. When he touched his face, the skin over his jaw was rough with stubble.

His head started to droop over his chest, and he shook it thoroughly and pinched himself again. His mouth and throat were dry as a bone. He needed water badly, and some food wouldn't hurt, either. His head was pounding.

It would be a while before he was able to stand. His legs would barely move, and he knew they wouldn't support his weight just yet. Instead he pressed his fingertips to his forehead and tried to focus on the room.

It was small, and dark. It was empty except for him and, quite nearby, a pile of bags next to another pallet. Clearly someone else was also sleeping here. There was one window, too high to see out of, and that let in what little light there was to see by. Scorpius guessed by the colour that it might be late afternoon, though he had to admit that any such observation was little more than his imagination. The place was clearly very run down. The wallpaper, whatever colour it was, was cracked and peeling. The floor gave the impression of being slightly unstable.

How had he got here? He thought hard, brushing away the fragments of confused memory and concentrating on the whole ones. He remembered delivering the package. The raid. The long, horrible wait in the dark holding cell. Then Teddy had been there… and Rose's father. There was a man he wasn't likely to forget in a hurry. But then what had happened? He didn't remember going to sleep. Why was he here? What was here?

Merlin's beard, he was thirsty.

He sat up a bit more, trying to see if there was anything resembling water in any of the bags. He reached out, but they were too far away.

Suddenly there was a noise from somewhere. It sounded like it came from below, and Scorpius felt a strange moment of dizziness as he realised he might be on a top floor. "H…Hello?" he tried to call out, but all that issued from his mouth was a low, croaking sound.

Footsteps. Footsteps on a staircase, a very old, creaky staircase. Suddenly Scorpius wasn't so sure he wanted to know his new roommate's identity. In a fit of sudden panic he threw off the cloak and tried to stand, forced himself forward onto his knees and scrabbling for a purchase on the wooden floorboards. He only succeeded in balancing on his heels for a second before he fell sideways, his body making a loud thud as it hit the floor.

The door flew open and someone came hurriedly over to him, kneeling on the floor and lifting his head up. "Scorpius," said a familiar, impossible voice. "Are you all right? Don't try to move – you are ill –"

"Father?" Scorpius croaked, in stunned disbelief. He struggled for a moment in the man's grip, trying to sit up again.

"Hush, boy. Be still."

For once Scorpius didn't try to argue. Even that small effort had left him exhausted. "Water," he croaked instead.

He couldn't see it, but his father must have summoned a water flask because it was suddenly being pressed to his lips. Scorpius took a deep draught that made him cough and splutter for a minute, and then a second sip to ease the dryness in his mouth. It tasted weirdly lemony, but he didn't care. It could have tasted like sewage and he wouldn't have minded. As the water worked its magic on his stiff tongue, he looked up in awe and not a little trepidation at his father.

The man looked considerably less well-groomed than he had the last time Scorpius had seen him. He was clean-shaven, but there was dust in his hair and on his robes, and there were no rings on his fingers. He was kneeling unceremoniously on the floor with Scorpius' head in his lap, and he was being almost… gentle. It was weird. Scorpius couldn't even remember the last time the man had touched him. "Father," he said, when his throat seemed like it might actually work again. "What… where are we? What happened?"

His father looked away. He lowered Scorpius back onto the cloak. "You were poisoned," he said, in a very dark tone that sent a chill down Scorpius' spine. "That bastard, Potter… as if taking my fortune, my home, my very future away from me, as if that wasn't enough… he tried to take my son."

Scorpius swallowed, a memory surfacing slowly, like oil to the surface of the ocean. "Moonsilver," he said, groaning. "Veritaserum." He cursed himself for ten times an idiot. He knew he was allergic to Veritaserum. He had completely forgotten in all the chaos and confusion and fear. What's more, he realised as the memory played out like a horror film - he had signed the damn paperwork. He had agreed to take it. People would think he was completely mental.

"But…" he said, bringing himself back to the current dilemma. "That doesn't explain… how am I here?" A suspicion began to grow in his mind. "I was arrested. How did you…"

"I came for you," his father said, shortly. "I still have connections… important connections. I have more power than Potter thinks."

Yeah, you really look it, Scorpius thought sarcastically to himself. Powerful. "You kidnapped me," he said flatly. "You broke into a Ministry building, and you –"

"I saved you!" Draco growled, getting to his feet. "They would have let you die."

"I wouldn't have been there at all if it wasn't for you!" Scorpius was wide awake now, more awake than he could remember ever being in his life. "You gave me that stupid package – and you – you're – you're the Shadow, aren't you?"

Draco's expression twisted. "Don't talk about things you cannot hope to understand," he said, low.

Scorpius sat up. His father still towered over him, but it was better than lying down helplessly. "But I do understand," he protested. "When I was asleep, I saw… I dreamed that you… I do understand." He didn't remember all of the dream, but somehow he knew that what he had seen was real. What he had felt was real. "But what you're doing now… the stuff you're selling to people, it's dangerous! People have been killed, Father!"

"What people do with what I sell is their own affair," Draco said shortly.

"What was in that package?" Scorp demanded. "What did I take? Could it have hurt someone?"

"Scorpius, that is enough – "

"You shouldn't have come for me," he said, not listening. "They'll know it was you, the Ministry. They know who you are." He realised, with a jab to the stomach of something that was part self-loathing and part relief, that he still didn't want his father to go to prison. The man loved him, in his own, twisted sort of way. Scorpius' birth had given him the courage to leave the home and the family that was rotting apart. He had wanted Scorpius to work with him, to be part of what he was building, illegal and sickening as that was. And he had come for him. Through an army of Aurors and Ministry people who wanted him dead, across international borders and at great risk. He had come for his son. What else could it be, but love?

"I know." Draco shook his head. "Sending you was a mistake, I see that now. In truth, it was not my idea."

"Whose idea was it then?"

Draco did not answer.

"Father?"

The man was staring down at the bags on the floor next to the second pallet. It occurred to Scorpius that his father had been sleeping on the floor beside him. This was more unbelievable to him than anything else that had happened so far. He wondered why Draco hadn't just conjured beds. Then he wondered if maybe the floor couldn't take the weight. Then he wished he hadn't thought that.

"The townhouse is crawling with Aurors," Draco said suddenly. "We cannot go back there. We will wait here a while until the circus has died down and you are well enough before we move on."

"Where is here?" Scorpius asked. "And who's we? Is Goyle here too?"

Draco shook his head. "Just you and I. The others refused to come with me to England. They… I left them behind." He knelt on one knee and began rummaging through one of the bags.

Something about the way he said it made Scorpius pause. Had he been about to say that they left him behind? But surely Goyle wouldn't. The man could barely get up in the morning without being ordered to.

And then he realised what was the strangest thing of all. His father wasn't angry. Scorpius being caught had ruined it all for him, exposed him, torn down his whole operation, his business, what he had been working on for years. He had lost it all, all over again, his house, his friend, his servants… he ought to be furious. But he wasn't. He was frightened.

A week ago Scorpius might not have recognised fear in his father's face, but the Moonsilver had changed that. In the dream, he had seen his father afraid, seen him in terror for his life and his family's lives. And this, right now, was exactly the same.

"How long was I out?" Scorpius asked, carefully.

"Four days," his father muttered.

Scorpius decide to accept that. There was nothing he could do about it now, after all, but no wonder he was so hungry. "No one followed you? How did you get out? Or in, for that matter?"

"I used one of the Ancient Keys."

Scorpius blinked. That one was a bit lost on him… or was it though? "Those.. extra powerful Portkeys?" he guessed. "Like the one we took to Durmstrang?"

"Very rare objects," his father said, an edge of pride in his voice despite the state of his robes and he fact he was sleeping on the ground. "There are less than ten left in the world, and I have - had - three of them. Now there is only one, of course," he added bitterly. "I expect Saint Potter will have the others by now."

"Are they valuable?" Scorpius asked, knowing the answer.

"Priceless. They can travel further than a Ministry-Regulated Portkey, are more accurate than Apparition and can bypass most secure spells and wards, like those that were around you at the hospital."

Scorpius stared. Not only did they sound very, very valuable but also extremely illegal. He supposed he should have expected that, however.

"Why are you telling me this now?" he asked. "I worked for you... with you... for weeks, and you never said anything. If I'd have known, I might have... " run away, he thought. Reported it, probably. I was angry enough. But he couldn't say that. Instead he said, "I might have known to run when those Ministry guys came in. I could have Apparated away, or... or... "

"No, " his father said darkly. "Oh, you couldn't have run, they would have set anti-Apparition wards. No, they had been getting close to us for months. The Aurors would have taken someone that day whether you were there or not. That it was you was just..."

"A coincidence?" Scorpius said, feeling sick. He was started to feel dizzy and tired again. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

"No," his father said, unexpectedly. "No, I don't think it was that." He seemed to have found what he was looking for in the bags. He uncorked a slim vial and tipped a few drops into the water flask. "Drink this," he instructed.

Scorpius took the flask, but hesitated. "What… what is it?" he asked, resisting the urge to sniff at it suspiciously.

"What I have been giving you the last few days, to counteract the effects of the Moonsilver," his father replied. "May I assume I no longer have to force-feed you?"

Scorpius shook his head. His father was a lot of things, but he was also good at Potions, this he knew. He swallowed the water, which now tasted even more like lemons. He did feel a little more alert, afterwards. "Would… would they not have given me that at the hospital?" he asked, tentatively, not wanting to poke the dragon.

"I think not." Draco got to his feet and dusted off his robes, for what good it did. "It is more or less pure adrenaline and will not serve as a long-term solution. It would have been better to wait for you to recover on your own, but alas we do not have the luxury of time, thanks to Potter and his blasted Ministry." He met Scorpius' eyes for a minute, and Scorpius thought he saw something other than fear, something worse. But then it was gone, and his father turned away. "Rest," he said shortly. "I must attend to our wards. They are all that is keeping us safe, at the moment."

~*-A-*~

Albus was feeling extremely on edge, and not just because of the new round of tests the Aurors had just put him through. They were testing his reaction to different objects sequestered from the Malfoy house, to see if any of those might be the cursed object that prevented him from talking about what he knew about the Shadow. He was tired of being poked at with wands. Far apart from being annoying and occasionally even painful, it seemed incredibly pointless when his best friend had been abducted and was out there, somewhere, probably still in a coma and unable to defend himself.

All in all it had not been a great week.

His mother made him sit on the sofa when he got back from the hospital and drink tea. He didn't want to drink tea. He wanted to be out there with his father, looking for Scorpius. He wanted to be doing something useful. He knew Rose was feeling the same way, but at least she was being allowed to help. She had helped Neville and the Aurors put together a map of likely locations. She was up there at the Ministry every day doing whatever little she could to speed things along. No one would even consider letting Albus help. Never mind that it was his best friend that was in trouble, never mind that it was Al himself who had been cursed with a secrecy spell.

If they had bothered to ask his opinion, he would have told them that it was just as pointless looking in the 'likely' places. Malfoy was a smuggler, therefore he probably knew a dozen unlikely places, spread all over Europe and probably all warded from detection, perhaps even unplottable, so their stupid map was a waste of time, wasn't it? Everyone seemed to be pinning their hopes on this Seer woman Neville said he knew, but she was proving to be a difficult Seer to find. And if she couldn't See that they needed her… well that seemed like a dead end, too. At least Aunt Hermione seemed to agree with him on that score.

The doorbell rang. Al ignored it. He was not supposed to leave the sofa, and if that meant not moving in order to perform basic household niceties like answering the door, well, so be it. The bell rang again. "LILY!" Al yelled, careful not to spill his tea. "GET THE DOOR!"

"WE'RE DOING OUR POTIONS HOMEWORK!" she yelled from the kitchen where she and Hugo had been studying on and off while all their parents were out. James was supposed to be supervising but he spent most of his time either up in his room or practicing flying out in the garden. Al would have given quite a lot to go out with him, if only to distract him from all the mess for a few minutes, but his mother flat out refused to hear of it. It didn't matter how much Al complained that the stupid secrecy spell was not likely to cause him to fall off a broom while fifty feet up in the air, she insisted he needed peace and quiet. It was infuriating. "JAMES!" he heard Lily yell now. "GET THE DOOR!"

"Bloody hell," said a disgruntled voice from the top of the stairs. "This house could really do with some kind of bloody intercom system. Or a zookeeper." James' footsteps came thumping down the stairs and the door was finally opened, after the bell had rung for a third time. "Oh, hi," he heard James say. "Come in then."

"Thanks," said a familiar voice, and Albus almost groaned. "How's the patient?"

"Sulking," James said cheerfully. "Just through here."

Seconds later his brother appeared in the doorway to the living room with Albus' girlfriend by his side. "Here you go," James announced. "Cheer him up, will you?" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively as he stood back to let her pass.

"Bugger off, James," Al muttered. "Hi, Cleo."

"Hey baby," Cleo said, smiling sympathetically at him. Al tried to smile back, but sympathy was the last thing he wanted right now. She came over and sat on the sofa, close beside him. "You okay?"

"Just peachy," Al muttered. "James, will you go away?"

His brother sniggered as he walked off in the direction of the kitchen, no doubt planning on talking and laughing behind their backs. "Har har bloody har," Al sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Cleo giggled. "That… really did not help," she said. She reached up and smoothed his hair back with careful, dainty fingers. Somehow she managed to be dainty and tough at the same time. That was part of what made her so attractive, really. She still had blue hair, locks of it poking out of a hasty-looking style that no doubt carried the just-rolled-out-of-bed look she was going for. She'd somehow managed to find time to do her makeup, though. However, perhaps in concession to the seriousness of the situation, she had dressed a little less daringly today in a jeans and a loose, slighty opaque cardigan. "Seriously," she said, when his hair was adjusted to her satisfaction. "Are you okay?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I hate just sitting here."

She scooted along the sofa so that she could curl up beside him, laying one arm across his chest. "I know. I'm worried about him, too. But I worry about you more."

"There's nothing wrong with me!" he protested, putting his teacup down hard on the coffee table. "I should be up there, helping."

"We should do something to take your mind off it," Cleo said. "Want to watch some TV?"

"Not really."

"Play cards?"

"No."

"Want to make out?"

Al looked down at her with raised eyebrows. She grinned back. "What? That would take your mind off things."

Albus sighed. "I dunno. I'm not really in the mood."

Cleo made an amused face and sat up slightly so she could look him in the eyes. "Okay, look at it this way. If you sit here worrying and moping, it's not going to do you or Scorpius any good. If we make out for a bit, it still won't help Scorpius any, but you might feel better for a little while." She reached up and lifted his glasses gently off his nose and back onto his head. "And it'll make me feel less useless."

Albus gave up. "Well, if it makes you feel better," he said.

~*-A-*~

About half an hour later, Al became aware that something was going on the kitchen. There was a man's voice, deeper than James', and Lily's high-pitched giggle.

"What is it?" Cleo asked, noticing his distraction.

"Something's up," he said, pushing his glasses back down. He was about to start straightening his clothes when Teddy stuck his head around the door.

"Oi, lovebirds," he said, rolling his eyes. "Look sharp, here comes the boss man."

Cleo sat up - a little too eagerly, Albus thought - and pulled her cardigan back into place. Al hurriedly followed her example just as his dad came into the living room. Harry paused for a second as if gauging the temperature of the room before deciding to ignore whatever he had sensed and move on.

"What is it?" Al asked quickly. "Did you find him?"

"Not yet," Harry said. Albus hadn't seen his dad in at least two days. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair sticking up all over the place. "But we think we might have made some progress. We just heard from Neville. It looks like he's tracked down this Seer at last."

"A real one?" Cleo said, eyes wide. "Cool."

"He's bringing her here," Harry explained, as Teddy performed some kind of charm on the windows. "Using divination for Department purposes is sort of… unconventional."

"Is that a new word for 'against regulations'?" Teddy said cheerfully. "Illegal? Underground?"

"Badger, kindly shut up and get on with the warding spells."

"Yessir."

"So I get to help?" Al said, his heart lifting with excitement. His dad gave him a warning look. "Or… I could just sit here and watch," he said, letting himself fall back onto the sofa.

"Al, maybe it's best if -"

"Come on Dad, please don't make me leave! I'll be still and quiet, I swear you won't even know I'm here."

Harry frowned, but apparently the effort of making an argument would be too much. "Fine. You might be able to give this woman whatever details she needs, anyway. Cleo, I'm sorry, but - "

"Oh, say no more," Cleo said. She kissed Albus on the cheek. "Family only, I get it. Let me know how it goes?"

"Yeah, sure," Albus said, feeling oddly guilty all of a sudden though he had no idea why. Lizzie wouldn't have left, said a traitorous voice in the back of his mind. She would've kicked and screamed and insisted on staying. Does Cleo even care what happens? No, he realised, that was unfair. Cleo hadn't known Scorpius for that long. She probably didn't realise just how serious the situation was. No one had told her about the Shadow yet, since it was technically classified information. She knew he had been kidnapped though, and that sounded pretty serious no matter what the circumstances, right? He shook his head and decided to worry about that later.

Almost as soon as Cleo had left, there was the sound of the Floo, and seconds later Lily was leading Neville and a woman in a floor-length dress into the living room. Albus forced himself to sit still while Harry shook hands respectfully with the woman. "Emmeline, this is Harry Potter," Neville introduced them. "Harry, this is Emmeline."

"We used to go out," Emmeline said, in a strange, emotionless tone. Neville flushed. The Seer woman was Albus' parents age, he guessed, though there was a queer kind of agelessness to her face. Her eyes were a dusky shade of blue, and she had long, dark hair and skin so pale it was almost white. Her dress matched her eyes. It was made of a light, floaty material and was so long it brushed the floor as she walked. All in all she was a lot more convincing than Professor Trelawny.

"Neville told you our… situation?" Harry said. "We heard your speciality is finding things that are lost, and we need this boy to help us find a dangerous criminal. We've tried all the usual locator spells…"

"I can find your lost boy," the woman said confidently. She sat in the chair Harry offered her and took a deep breath. "I shall need something of his," she said. "Something close to him."

Harry grimaced. "I should have thought of that. His wand is back in the Department with his other effects."

"A wand has magic of its own, and is merely a tool. I need something treasured."

"Well, I guess I could go back and - "

Al forgot his promise to be quiet. "No, Dad," he said excitedly. "He only took the stuff that didn't really matter, that his dad wouldn't make him get rid of. I've got all the important stuff. Be right back!" He hurtled out of the living room and up to his bedroom. There was a pile in the corner that made up the things Scorpius had asked him to look after while he was at Durmstrang. Books and clothes were piled on top of the guitar case which lay flat under the window. Albus rummaged in the things until he found what he was looking for before hurrying back down the stairs again.

"Try this," he said, breathlessly, handing the object to Emmeline. "He had it in his pocket for about six years. That'll work, right?" The Seer turned the small metal object over in her hands.

"Yes," she said softly. "Yes, this is very much a part of your friend. He trusted you to keep it safe." She looked up at Al with a piercing blue stare.

"Er, yeah," Al said, thinking that might be the creepiest thing he had ever heard. "It doesn't really work anymore, though. I've got the new one, too, if you want."

"This will do well." Emmeline motioned to Neville, who handed her a roll of parchment. When she spread it open on the coffee table, Al saw it was a world atlas. It was a very old map, drawn by hand with fine black ink lines. The parchment was yellowed and ragged around the edges, like a pirate map. Emmeline picked up some coasters from the table and used them to pin it down. Somehow that seemed a bit disrespectful to something so obviously antique.

Emmeline put one pale, dainty-fingered hand over the map, moving her fingers slowly as though stroking an invisible cat. The room became very quiet, the three men standing back as the Seer did her work. Her other hand closed tightly over Scorpius' old iPod, caressing it with her palm as though she could feel its essence, or whatever. Albus watched eagerly as the woman closed her eyes, waving her hand almost teasingly over the map. Then the hand came down, and she began drawing a slow circle around Europe, the circle getting smaller until it enclosed only Great Britain. "He has not crossed the water," she said, her eyelids twitching as her eyes moved beneath them.

"Er.. great," said Teddy, sounding sceptical. "So they're still within Apparition distance. We're going to need something a bit more specif -"

Harry held up a hand, silencing his godson. As Emmeline's fingers circled the isle, the map began to change. Great Britain became larger and larger until it filled the entire parchment.

"Cool," Teddy said, staring at it.

Emmeline lifted her hand again, searching for the more exact location. "He is awake," she said, tilting her head to one side as if listening to something. "There are wards… good ones. Ancient magic."

"I'm getting sick of all this 'ancient magic'," Harry muttered. "What's Malfoy up to now?"

"Awake," Emmeline repeated. "Afraid."

"Is Scorp hurt?" Albus asked, unable to help himself. "Is he okay?"

"His body is whole." Emmeline's hand began to circle again, concentrating on an area of the map that drew itself as it became larger, black spidery lines curling themselves in and out as it grew. The word 'Manchester' wrote itself out in barely-readable script. "But he sickens. Some poison?"

"Yeah… that was us," Teddy said. "Our bad." He leaned over the map. "This is good. Harry, should we tell -"

The map changed again, this time focussing in on a town called Oldham. Emmeline was breathing heavily, her hand shaking slightly as it circled.

"Emmy," Neville said gently, putting a hand on the arm holding the iPod. "Are you all right?"

"Dark Magics," the Seer gasped, her shoulders twisting strangely as she fought against some unseen force. "Strong magic."

"Can you be any more specific?" Harry asked, his eyes fixed on the map as it began to draw streets and buildings. The constant, ever-changing nature of the thing was starting to make Al feel queasy. "Anything at all."

"A building," Emmeline said, her voice trembling almost as much as her hand. "Very old. Almost part of the earth… like an ancient tree. But dead, dying. Empty."

"Old building," Teddy repeated. "In Oldham. Yeah, that narrows it -"

The woman hissed and pulled her hand away. The map had stopped moving at last, leaving the image of a detailed area about a mile wide. "I'm sorry," she said. "That is as far as I can go. There are strong wards against finding magic, but the place should be visible."

"That's great," Harry assured her, giving Teddy a warning look. "It's brilliant, in fact. Ted, go get the team ready. Then I want you to go to Oldham - scout out some possible locations. If you get a sighting do not engage, clear? Come back and report."

"No fear, sir," Teddy said, grinning. "I'm a spy, not one of your hotheaded Aurors."

"True enough," Harry replied. "Get gone then."

Teddy hurried off to the kitchen to use the Floo.

"When are you going?" Albus asked eagerly.

"Tonight, perhaps, depending on what Teddy finds."

Emmeline was already rolling up her magical map. She handed the iPod back to Albus, and their eyes met. Al found himself unable to look away as she gazed intensely at him. Her expression seemed to change all at once from indifference to sorrow, and she looked away. "I am sorry," she said, softly. The way she said it gave Al a chill down his spine.

"Er… no, that was great," he said, confused. "Really helpful. Thank you."

"Your thanks is not needed," she replied. Neville offered her his hand and she took it, letting him help her out of the chair.

"You should rest," he told her.

She smiled faintly at him and stroked his cheek with her fingertips. Then, without warning, she Apparated away with a loud crack! that made everyone jump.

"Bloody hell," Neville muttered.

"That's some woman," Harry said, grinning. "When did you go out with her, anyway?"

"Just for a few weeks after Luna dumped me," Neville sighed. "It was years and years ago."

"Wait - that was the mysterious rebound girl? You said she was a librarian!"

"I lied. Didn't matter anyway, she upped and left town one day out of the blue - kind of like she just did then. She's like that." He shook his head slightly as if trying to clear it. "Right. Do we have a plan?"

Harry gave him a hard look. "There is no 'we', Nev. I'm sorry. You're not an Auror anymore."

"Dad," Al began, but Harry cut him off.

"No, Albus. Absolutely not. You are staying here."

"But Dad -"

"No, lad." His father turned to face him and gave him a look that broached no argument. "I'm sorry, but no. Don't worry. If he's out there, we'll find him and we'll bring him back. I promise you. Maybe we'll even get Malfoy Senior into the bargain."

Al glared. It seemed pretty clear to him that 'getting' Scorpius' dad was what the Aurors really wanted. Capturing the Shadow was their number one priority, from what he could tell. It was all about getting the 'dangerous criminal'. But Scorpius was innocent. Albus couldn't help but wonder what would happen if Scorp got in the way of the Ministry catching their man.

Neville and Harry went back to the Ministry, not long after. Harry gave James strict instructions, none of whi

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