AN: Please, please, please don't hate me! I'm SO SORRY for not updating sooner, but an overwhelming combination of finals and writer's block will do that to a person. I promise, this chapter is DEFINITELY worth the wait.
The Next Generation: Back at Malfoy Manor…
"Oy! Come here, you lot, I think he's coming around!"
"Lord, that's a nasty bump, he must've put up quite a fight."
"Better off than that Al kid, though—they beat him black, blue, and bloody." WHUMP. "Ow! What the—?"
"Keep your voice down! Allie's worried enough about Al without your insensitivity butting in. Scorpius? Scorp, can you here me?"
Scorpius opened his eyes to the dim lighting of what he recognized as his grandparent's old cellar. Rose and a boy and girl he didn't know were bending over him with worried or curious expressions. "What happened?" he asked fuzzily, trying to sit up. Rose pushed him back just as the headache and nausea kicked in.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Rose asked anxiously.
"Fighting the Snatchers by the Shrieking Shack…they Apparated here, didn't they?"
"Yeah; knocked you on the head pretty bad, too," said the tall black girl—she had the same nose and cheekbones as the Patil-Thomas twins. "You'll have a nice scar by your right temple."
"Bloody arses got the other one worse," the boy said, gesturing expressively at Allie leaning against the nearest wall with Al's head in her lap. She waved weakly when she saw Scorpius was awake. "We couldn't heal you lot straightaway because they took your wands," the boy continued apologetically. "I'm underage, so I can't help. I'm Geoff Creevey, by the way—Dennis Creevey's my dad. She's Laura, Rose tells us you know about her already. Scorpius Malfoy, right?"
Scorpius shook Geoff's proffered hand. "Yeah. How long have we been here?"
"Only a couple of hours," Laura replied. "Unless the Snatchers get twitchy, they'll wait until tomorrow to send the ransom notes. You'll be out of here in a week, tops."
"Oh, it's not as bad as the Prophet makes it out to be," Geoff said, seeing Scorpius's bemused expression. "They just ignore you until they're paid, unless you're related to someone important." The ten-year-old didn't seem to realize the significance in what he'd just said.
"Um, Geoff," Rose cut in, pale-faced, "What happens to someone who is related to someone important?"
"The Death Eaters come," Laura whispered, avoiding Rose's eyes.
"I should've stayed unconscious," Scorpius muttered.
The door at the top of the stairs creaked open ominously. Scorpius, Rose, Laura, and Geoff scurried away from the hunched figure that descended into the gloom, back where Allie took shelter against the wall. The hunched figure cackled maliciously and flicked his wand at the pitiful iron chandelier above their heads. The sudden light cast shadows into the deep, sickening contours of his scarred face. Blackened fingernails twitched in anticipation as the Snatcher bared his pointed teeth. The stench of sweat and blood had just reached Scorpius's nostrils when he realized who the ravaged man must be—Fenrir Greyback, leader of the Snatchers back in the Second War. Draco had told him horror stories about the wolf-man, the werewolf that enjoyed the taste of human flesh so much that he consumed it in human form. Remembering what his father had said about Greyback especially enjoying the flesh of women and girls, Scorpius clenched his fists and maneuvered into a defensive position in front of Rose and Allie.
Greyback saw this and grinned maniacally. "Don't get yer knickers in a knot, boy—I've feasted already." The bottom fell out of Scorpius's stomach. "Besides, we're under orders not to touch you lot. Yet."
"Under orders from whom?" Rose asked defiantly. Her Weasley courage had a tendency to show at times like these.
"Me." Another man stepped downward into the cellar. His gaunt, twisted face shone with a malevolence that rivaled Greyback's.
"Who're you?" Scorpius asked. Draco had described every Death Eater he'd come across in great detail, stressing the characteristics of those who were still alive—this man didn't resemble any of them.
"No one of consequence," the man replied. "Just the leader of the Dark Lord's few remaining disciples."
"Voldemort's dead." Scorpius started slightly, surprised to hear Al's voice. "Harry Potter killed him seventeen years ago."
The man shrugged, as if he didn't expect them to understand. "The Dark Lord rose from the dead once before, Albus Potter. He may yet return again, and when he does, he will reward us for continuing his noble work."
"Voldemort was never really dead in the first place," Rose protested bossily. She always got like that when she felt like someone didn't know the answer to a painfully easy question. "His body was destroyed, but his soul survived because of his Horcruxes—and even then, he was able to regain a rudimentary physical form through the administration of a dark elixir."
The man slowly turned his head toward Rose, his face expressionless. Scorpius tensed instinctively.
"You're the daughter of Ronald and Hermione Weasley. And you're annoying. Yes, you'll do nicely." He turned to Greyback and nodded. The wolf-man yelped with pleasure and raced up the stairs. The moment he was out of sight, half a dozen Death Eaters, hooded and cloaked, moved down into the cellar, arranging themselves into a semi-circle around Scorpius and his friends. Laura and Geoff automatically slid in behind Scorpius and Rose for protection.
"I am told your mother and father also experienced an unpleasant visit to Malfoy Manor," the lead Death Eater told Rose. "That Bellatrix Lestrange tortured your mother while your father, along with Harry Potter and Luna Longbottom, was forced to listen to her screams from down here." Rose trembled and gripped Scorpius's arm tightly. Greyback appeared out of the crowd of Death Eaters, brandishing a red envelope. The lead Death Eater took it and pulled his wand out from the folds of his cloak. Scorpius stiffened in horror. The lead Death Eater looked up at them. "Bring her."
"NO!" Scorpius pushed Rose behind him and backed against the wall, shielding her from the oncoming, cloaked figures. Allie and Al rose hastily, trying to block the way, but the Death Eaters brandished their wands and swatted the two away like so many bothersome flies, along with Laura and Geoff when they attempted to help. The Death Eaters pried at Scorpius's outspread arms, with minimal success. Finally, they lost patience, and one of them fired a spell that tore through Scorpius shirt to cut a deep gash across his chest. Scorpius gasped and fell, the pain slicing through him like a Sectumsempra curse. He heard yelling.
Scorpius looked up to see Rose, struggling for all she was worth, lifted off her feet and dragged over to the lead Death Eater, who seemed to enjoy the display; he smiled agreeably as he polished his wand on the hem of his cloak. The wand he would use to place the Cruciatus Curse on Rose…
Deep, burning fury filled Scorpius's chest, melding with the dread he felt for Rose and churning into an energy that threatened to burst out of his skin—
"LEAVE HER ALONE!"
BANG! The Death Eaters holding Rose were knocked to the ground with the force of the invisible explosion, as well as Greyback and the lead Death Eater. Rose scampered back to Scorpius side, sobbing and hurriedly wrapping her scarf around the cut in his chest with shaking fingers. Allie, Al, Laura, and Geoff also rushed over, contributing every pad or scrap of clothing they could spare to stem the flow of blood issuing from Scorpius's chest. At the foot of the staircase, the lead Death Eater was the first to stand. He waited until he had their attention before speaking.
"Temper, temper, little Malfoy," he sneered. "I wonder how your blood traitor father would take it if we returned you to him as nothing more than a drooling, soulless shell of a human being." He turned to Greyback. "Tell the dementors they shall finally be rewarded for all their hard work." Greyback leered as he followed his master out of the cellar.
"Scorpius…" Rose's voice cracked in fear.
The air became bone-chillingly cold; the light from the iron chandelier above them flickered and died. Scorpius was aware of every movement, every sound: Rose's hand on his bicep, Al's steady breathing, the rustle of cloth as Allie tried to look everywhere at once, Laura and Geoff shrinking powerlessly against the wall behind them, the thick pad of makeshift bandages wrapped around his torso.
The door opened again, flooding light into their dank shelter. There were several quiet chinks as Greyback threw their wands down the steps. "They want t'give ye a fighting chance," he cackled mockingly, his howling laughter fading away slowly as he left them. Scorpius waited a moment before retrieving the wands.
"We'll have to be ready," he told his friends, returning those precious sticks of wood to their owners. "Geoff and Laura can't fight the dementors, so we'll have to make a circle around them…Allie, you stand over here, and Al, lean against her, you're still weak—right, and Rose, you'll be over here by me…" He could hear the ragged breathing now, at the top of the stairs, a hollow, rattling gasp that would be their undoing.
"And remember the spell," Scorpius continued, trying and failing to conceal the trembling in his voice. "Expecto Patronum. Think of something happy, and really, really concentrate on it."
"But none of us ever produced a Patronus outside of school before!" Rose exclaimed, panicked. "We're not ready for real dementors yet!"
"Consider this the next lesson," Scorpius replied, smiling wryly. "Kind of pass-fail, which I always thought was easier."
"This is so not the time for banter," Allie groaned, staring up at the door.
Ten dementors glided into the cellar, scabbed hands reaching out to them hungrily, feeding off every good feeling or happy memory the six defenders possessed. Scorpius felt a cold, paralyzing dread settle around his heart and fought to remember what it was he was supposed to be doing. Faintly, as if from a long way off, he heard the countless abuses resurfacing, singling him out, casting him away, weighing down on him as his deceased Grandfather's steely gray eyes accosted him with the same glacial feeling that held him rooted to the spot, his wand pointed uselessly at the ground…
"Scorpius!" Wisps of silver vapor puffed up in front of him, but to no avail; there were too many dementors. His head was reeling, his stomach churning with the effort to stay standing—
"Scorpius!" The wisps of vapor were fading now—his friends were frightened and weakening…his friends. Rose and Allie and Al and James and Lily and Hugo and all the rest, they'd all trusted him, befriended him, stood by him when no one else would—
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A great, shining eagle burst out of his wand tip and charged the dementors, who scattered left and right to avoid touching the magnificent bird. Their movements became hurried, almost frantic—they hadn't expected such resistance. One darted past Scorpius's Patronus and thrust a rotting hand toward Rose.
With an infuriated, unintelligible cry, Rose's vixen Patronus sprang into being and hit the dementor squarely on the chest. Allie's dolphin and Al's wolfhound joined they fray as well, guarding Laura and Geoff as the eagle and the vixen chased the dementors out of the cellar. As soon as the pair reached the top step, they vanished. Allie's and Al's Patronuses also faded, as the light flickered back on and the chill left the air.
Scorpius sat down hard, clutching his throbbing chest. His friends followed suit, every bit as exhausted and shaken as he was. None of them had been so scared, or worked so hard, in his or her life. Rose scooted closer to Scorpius and lay her head on his shoulder; she was shaking.
"You okay?" Scorpius croaked.
"Still cold," she mumbled, closing her eyes. "So tired…"
"You did great," Scorpius said, curving his arm around her shoulders and hugging her close. "You can rest now."
"Um, Scorp?" Allie asked. Scorpius turned his head slightly to show he was listening. "Al went out of it again. I think he overreached himself."
Scorpius growled profanities as the door at the top of the stairs creaked open once again, but this time the whole troupe of wannabe Death Eaters filed into the cellar; the last one through waved his wand, and at least seven locks appeared on the thick oak door. Allie gasped, and Scorpius held Rose closer against him as he raised his wand, disregarding the stabbing pain in his chest. The lead Death Eater laughed cruelly. "Don't bother bluffing, boy—we know you're beat."
Scorpius winced inwardly; his arm muscles were screaming with the effort it took to his wand steady, and he knew Allie and Rose were no better off. Only his stubbornness was keeping him alive right now, and the others had their Gryffindor-worthy courage, but it wouldn't be enough to block the Death Eaters' spells. He couldn't even manage a Shield Charm at this point.
The lead Death Eater sneered, slowly raised his wand…and paused.
THUMP. The iron chandelier trembled, and the dust coating the many shelves exploded into the air with the forced of the commotion. The Death Eaters turned as one toward the locked door. The next THUMP rattled the heavy wood alarmingly. Then, miraculously, Scorpius heard a familiar voice.
"Move over, Weasley! Bombarda Maxima!"
The door burst of its hinges, taking two Death Eaters down with it, as Draco, Ron Weasley, Harry and Ginny Potter, and Luna Longbottom swarmed into the cellar. Rose and Allie gasped with relief, but Scorpius knew they weren't off the hook yet. "Keep your wands out," he told them, sliding backwards until his back came in contact with Laura's drawn-up legs. Allie handed Al over to Laura and Geoff on Scorpius's left as Rose kept her place on the right. The three friends drew their wands and watched the adults apprehensively.
The battle unfolding before them was above and beyond anything Scorpius had ever witnessed. The Potters tag-teamed effortlessly, standing back-to-back in the middle of the room and taking down Death Eaters as if they lived for nothing else. Ron Weasley barreled through the fray like a tank, leaving a trail of Stunned opponents in his wake. Madam Longbottom, whose late winter Care of Magical Creatures lessons were the highlight of Scorpius's year, remained solidly between the teenagers and their captors, deflecting spells and returning them when she found an opening, her usually dreamy eyes alert and calculating. Then there was Draco—in a brilliant tactical stroke of genius, he used the Death Eaters' hatred of him to lure them away from the Potters, Mr. Weasley, and Madam Longbottom, giving his newfound allies a breather and a clear shot. Then, when the Death Eaters' attention flickered back to their other four enemies, Harry and Draco used the moment of uncertainty to catch them in a crossfire.
With that final, brutally effective tactic, the battle was suddenly finished. The five adults hesitated for a moment, then rushed to their kids with desperate expressions. Madam Longbottom reached them first, pulling Allie into a fierce hug as Ginny Potter laboriously began healing Al's injuries, her face drawn and tight. Her husband crouched down next to Laura and Geoff, though Harry's famous green eyes continually flicked back to his son's unconscious form. Mr. Weasley, on the other hand, promptly forgot his duties as an Auror and crushed Rose in a giant bear hug, which she returned gladly.
Draco also moved toward Scorpius to make sure Scorpius was all right, at a more hesitant pace (Draco had issues about displaying his affectionate side in public, and it was easy to miss the heavy bandage across Scorpius's chest in the dim light), but Scorpius stared over his father's shoulder and hastily pushed him aside—and took the crushing blow of the Punching Jinx intended for Draco's unsuspecting back. Rose cried out in alarm, Laura gasped as her knees were forced up to her chin by the force of Scorpius slamming into her legs, Mr. Weasley swiftly Stunned the offending Death Eater, and Draco anxiously scrambled to his son's side.
Harry Potter came over a gently ran two fingers along Scorpius's ribcage; Scorpius gasped in pain as tears jumped into his eyes. "Broken ribs," Mr. Potter muttered. "Brachium Amendo." Scorpius exhaled as the fiery pain faded at Mr. Potter's words, to be replaced by a dull, persistent ache. "Excuse me, Scorpius," Mr. Potter said courteously as he severed the blood-soaked wad of cloth binding Scorpius's chest. The older man frowned at the gash scored across Scorpius's chest.
"Potter?" Draco asked sharply.
"Working on it," Mr. Potter replied. He began muttering over Scorpius's wound, siphoning the blood away to examine the extent of the damage. "Ah-hah," he said suddenly, and he cut healed itself.
"Potter?"
"It was just a normal jinx—not a Dark spell. Still, we need to get the lot of them to Madam Pomfrey right now."
"Potter…"
Mr. Potter frowned. "They all at least need something for shock, and Scorpius may have some internal complications from that Punching Jinx. I can heal clean breaks like cuts and broken bones easily enough, but you'll want a professional for the more serious stuff. For once in your life, Malfoy, let go of your pride long enough to see what other people need." Mr. Potter's quick gaze glanced from Scorpius, to a still-unconscious Al, to Allie, Rose, Geoff, and Laura, who all looked on the verge of puking. "Laura we need to take back to her parents, to go to a Muggle hospital; I'll Floo Dean if you and Ron get everyone upstairs—we can't Disapparate down here."
"Done." Mr. Weasley nodded his head in agreement and helped Laura and Geoff out of the cellar before scooping Rose up in his arms, despite her strident protests, and taking the steps two at a time. Ginny Potter followed close behind, levitating Al in front of her; Allie went next, one arm wrapped tightly around her mother's waist. Once they were alone in the basement, Draco moved to pick up Scorpius as Mr. Weasley had done with Rose, but Scorpius leaned away from his father, gingerly crossed his arms over his still-sore chest, and raised one white-blond eyebrow. Draco grinned and helped his son to his feet instead, but insisted on keeping Scorpius's arm around his shoulders. Scorpius didn't argue—from the feel of things, the Punching Jinx had bruised his abdominal muscles, and every step was painful even when he had his father for support. It took them nearly five minutes just to climb the eleven steps out of the cellar.
Harry had waited for them. "Laura's back with her family," he said shortly. "Everyone else is waiting at the Hog's Head."
Draco nodded and spun on the spot. The suffocating sensation pressed on Scorpius's bruised torso with particular force, leaving him dizzy and gasping for breath when they finally landed in Aberforth's dingy bar. Scorpius doubled over, clutched his midsection.
"All right, Scorp?" a familiar voice asked groggily.
"Fantastic, Al," Scorpius gasped without raising his head. "You?"
"Never better." Scorpius looked up. Al grinned back toothily from atop the grimy counter, leaning against the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him. Allie was perched on a barstool nearby; Rose sat at the table closest to them with her head resting on her palm. Both girls waved tiredly to show they were unhurt. Geoff snored loudly across the table from Rose, his head buried in his arms.
"The rest are upstairs with Aberforth," Rose told Draco and Mr. Potter. "Waiting for Mum. Dad sent her a Patronus message as soon as we got here—he didn't think we could manage the walk up to the castle." The two men nodded and moved to head upstairs, though Draco hesitated when he saw Scorpius hadn't straightened up yet.
Scorpius forced a smile. "I'm fine, Father. If you don't get up there soon, they'll start making decisions without you." This provoked Draco to follow his once-archenemy to the second floor, albeit with a dubious expression. As soon as his father was out of sight, Scorpius's legs gave way, and he crumpled to the dusty floor with a grimace.
"Scorp?" The tips of Rose's long red curls grazed the back of Scorpius's neck as she bent over him, raising goosebumps. "How're you holding up?" she asked as she settled down next to him.
"Great," Scorpius gasped; now it felt like hundreds of tiny needles were piercing his lungs; every breath was another stab of pain. "But it feels like I just got hit by a Bludger the size of James's big head."
Al whistled.
"You are so stupid!" Rose said crossly, frowning down at her blond friend. "If you weren't so bloody noble—"
"Father would've taken the hit instead," Scorpius cut in. "I've had worse." Rose snorted in disbelief, but knew better than to say anything more; she knew that Scorpius knew that she was just worried about him.
"How're you?" Scorpius asked suddenly, gray eyes unhappy as he looked up at her. "The dementors…"
Rose rolled her eyes, though the color still hadn't come back into her freckled cheeks. "If I can live through being related to Al, James, Hugo, and Lily, and put up with you and Allie for six-plus years, I'll survive a lousy dementor attack."
Scorpius sighed an oh-you'll-never-learn sigh and drew Rose to his side. Despite her words, she carefully rested her head on his uninjured shoulder. "Liar," he said gently. He felt, rather than heard, her chuckle. Scorpius rested his cheek against her fiery hair and breathed in her spicy cinnamon scent.
"You're not going to start snogging her now, are you?" Al broke in. "Because I forgot my camera and blindfold."
"Come again?" Allie asked.
"Proof of those two snogging is definitely worth having," Al told her seriously. "On the other hand, if I ever actually saw my best friend snogging the living daylights out of my cousin, I'd be emotionally scarred for life. They'd have to lock me up with that old quack Lockhart in St. Mungo's."
Allie rolled her eyes. "You're such a Wrackspurt—if seeing Scorpius and Rose snogging would scar you for life, being locked in with Lockhart would be like eating a Plum Dirigible."
Al looked at Rose and Scorpius. They shrugged.
"Rosie?" Ron Weasley's voice wafted down to them. "Time to go." Rose immediately slung Scorpius's arms over her shoulders and helped him rise to his feet; Allie did the same with Al after prodding Geoff awake. All three boys looked at the stairs and groaned.
"Oh, shut it," Rose advised unsympathetically. "It's not as if you defeated Voldemort or anything."
AN: Told you. This is probably the longest chapter I've ever written—only one or two more before it's finite, terminado, finished!
REVIEW. Say it with me: re-vi-ew. Right? Got it? Great, now just click that little button down and to the left that says 'Go.' Don't know what it'll do? Too bloody bad for you, just CLICK IT!