Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, this is just for my own twisted entertainment.
Summary: DH SPOILER! A sequel to Brill (and The First Meeting), but you don't have to read that one to understand this one. This is set much farther in the life of the new HP gen. Scorpius Malfoy runs away from home with best friend Alexander Boyle. Scorpius/Rose
--
The Escape--
"Scorpius, come on!" seventeen-year-old Alexander Boyle hissed from the window, digging his left hand into his thick black hair whilst holding onto his broom with his right, "What's taking you so long?" Scorpius ignored him, turning to face the darkest corner of his room. Perfectly kept brooms gleamed on the rack, each one polished and aired on a daily basis. These were his pride and joy. The palm of his hand grazed the first, his favorite.
It was custom-made, one of a kind. A smooth, modest black handle ringed with orange, the color of autumn leaves. Rather than the usual twigs, fine auburn horse-hair made up the brush of his broom, a delicate black braid keeping it in place. Scorpius sighed, remembering the days he'd spent racing the broom, weaving over the Forbidden Woods, swerving over his friends or shooting after the golden snitch. It had no actual name, merely and ID number (3485), but he'd fondly called it the SS, which stood for Somnio Securitatem. He'd become quite fascinated with Latin at a fairly young age, and the words were fitting: I Dream Of Freedom.
With a heavy heart he moved on to the next broom, hoping this would not be the last time he laid eyes on the beautiful SS, for it was built for speed, not comfort, and it was too thin for the journey he was about to set out on. He would need a sturdy, comfortable broom, and the SS just didn't make it. His second favorite was at the end of the rack, another light, custom-made broom with a pointed silver tip and black brush, but it too was inadequate.
He finally rested his eyes on a Deviant 1500, a gift from his dad. It had built in charms that would be perfect for the ride. The handle was a pale chestnut, with a gold nameplate near the brush. The brush itself was trimmed delicately, allowing for easier maneuvering. Sighing again he pulled it out from the grandiose rack and pulled his wand out from his jacket pocket, charming the evergreen canvas pack that lay on his bed to follow him. Securing it right over the nameplate he shot his brooms one final, mourning look. Outside Alexander was growing impatient.
"Stop being such a sissy Malfoy, they're just brooms!" Easy for Alexander to say. All he owned was a hand-me-down Nimbus 1700.
Shaking his head he shoved the window open and mounted the broom. It was a chilly night, and the charms on the broom immediately enveloped him in warmth. With a swift kick he shot out of the room through the open window, Alexander swerving to follow after him catching up within seconds.
"Seriously, you should be thanking me Scorpius."
Scorpius groaned, "Shut up Zander. Just shut up and lead." Grinning, Zander kicked up the speed and zoomed in front of Scorpius. It had been Zander's idea, really. Scorpius didn't want to admit it, but he'd never have been able to do it on his own. He didn't have the guts. And now here he was, running, or rather flying, away from home. He stubbornly refused to think of his parents. They didn't know what it was like, facing the rest of the students at Hogwarts. They didn't know how it felt, having to bear being a member of Salazar Slytherin's "noble" house. They didn't know why Scorpius avoided certain areas of their very own house.
Zander pulled up and soon the lights of the city began to fade. As the chill crept in, even with the heating spell, Scorpius bit his lip and sped up to stay on Zander's tail. He thought again of those halls of his home… no, former home, that he so often avoided. Lucius Malfoy, his grandfather, was the one who walked down those halls. Lucius Malfoy, with his dark ideals, his somber presence that demanded respect. Respect that Scorpius did not want to give.
When he was younger he would spend entire afternoons with his grandfather, trying to imitate his stoic personality. But as he grew, so did his fear of him. When Draco was away, Lucius would take Scorpius into his study and seat him on the cold, stone-hard black sofa while he lectured. He would make him sit for hours listening to him talk. He would talk in hushed tones, but by the time Scorpius was almost old enough to go to learn magic, he could recognized the bitterness in his grandfather's voice. His voice was like poison. He began giving Scorpius mint sweets as a child, telling him stories of his child. Adventures through dark woods, running away. Days filled with excitement. Scorpius would listen enraptured. But then Lucius would talk rather than narrate. He would tell him scary things about people called mudbloods. Muggles and the like. The way he talked about it was scary, it sounded as if these people were deformed or ill. Eventually Scorpius became paranoid. He only went out to the homes of wizards and witches, such as that of Theodore Nott, his "Uncle Theo".
He wouldn't miss Hogwarts, that was for sure. His first year had been the worst. Paranoid as he'd been from Lucius' measured rants, he looked over his shoulder constantly. Going to Hogwarts in the first place had already been up to debate, or so he'd learned from eavesdropping. Having been sorted into Slytherin made matters worse. Glares were shot at him from every corner. Teacher's looked down on him, students shunned him. The only ones who understood where fellow Slytherins who, like himself longed for it all to end. He grew close to Zander Boyle in his second year.
"Malfoy! Coming or not?"
Scorpius looked up, confused, and saw that Zander was already turning down. He grinned and pressed onward, gaining speed. They flew into the clouds and lower, lower, lower. Here there were no lights. Just space. Lots and lots of space. An isolated community far from the city. An empty lot at the far end, where trees sprouted randomly, thicker and thicker, was their final destination.
Zander laughed and leaned even farther. Soon the wind was whistling wildly around the two boys as they raced. Scorpius narrowed his eyes, deftly maneuvering the broom under and in front of Zander. Through the front door he shot, loosing his balance and crashing against the wall. Soon Zander crashed in after him. Both boys erupted in peals of laughter. A bruise was already starting to form on Scorpius' forehead, but he paid no attention to it.
"Well isn't this… nice…" he said, standing up and brushing of layers of dust.
"It's isolated. That's what matters right?" Zander said, picking up the brooms and propping them up against the cracked wall.
"Right," Scorpius agreed, pushing back his shaggy blonde hair and closing the door. "Lumos," he held his wand high and looked around, "No bloody Gryffs knocking on our door now."
"Or stalking us," Zander joked. Scorpius rolled his eyes and took in the room. Drab gray walls and grey floor. In the corner was an old stove and cupboard, and a small bathroom could be found through the door at the far end. A moldy mattress was stacked against it.
"Could you just forget it?" Scorpius said with a sigh, tired.
"Forget it? Who could forget the little redhead stalker, Weasley, and her bodyguards?"
"Zander…"
"Aw come on, don't be such a wuss."
"Shut up Boyle." Scorpius dragged out the mattress and flopped down, muttering, "Nox."
In the dark Zander fumbled before taking out his own wand, "Lumos," and glaring at Scorpius. Suddenly he frowned, "You like her, don't you? You actually have feelings for the wench!"
"I'm warning you Boyle."
"She's one of them! Did you forget what that git James did to you? What he did to us? Are you insane?"
"Shut up! Is that clear enough for you? Or do you need a beating to go with that?"
There was silence, and then, "Nox."
Scorpius didn't bother looking around for his pack, he simply turned his back on Zander and tried to sleep, though his mind was a turmoil. He hadn't had a decent conversation with Rose in a long time. Not since that party, when they where only… what, ten? Eleven? It had been war since then. No, worse than war. War was what little kids played when they had nothing better to do. They hated him for who he was, and he hated them for that. After a while he heard a scuffle, and then the sound of the other mattress being dragged over. There was an even longer period of silence than before. Just as Scorpius was beginning to drift off, he heard Zander's muffled voice echoing in the small, cold room.
"Didn't meant that, Scorpius. Sorry."
"Forget it. Let's get some sleep, yeah?"
"Here's to us and a life free of those haters."
"Here's to us," Scorpius repeated, "Here's to us."