CHAPTER TEN: Powerless
Albus noticed Scorpius' sudden alertness before he saw the reason for it. They had been settled at the table still reserved for them by Dianne, hidden from the general student population in case Scorpius freaked out. It was nearing the end of dinner, but Scorpius gave no indication of slowing. The first thing Scorpius had done was to retrieve books that he had previously shelved for Dianne, as well as others nearby that were dust-free and thus likely earlier targets of hers. After retracing her steps for some time—and discovering clues that seemed to mean more to Scorpius than they did to either Edward or Albus—Scorpius pulled out a large number of references about ritual magic and history. Albus wasn't sure, objectively speaking, that they'd achieved much, since Scorpius didn't seemed surprised by anything they had found, but it was keeping him occupied and that was more important than feeding him, so they worked through dinner without comment. When Dianne got back, he hoped she had a really good reason for leaving Scorpius behind.
It was Scorpius who noticed her return first, naturally, and as soon as she entered their alcove he went to her, holding her shoulders, running his hands over her arms, touching her face, generally trying to assure himself she was alright.
"Scorpius, I'm fine. I promise, really." She caught his hands in hers, holding them tightly and forcing him to be still. "I should have told you before I left, should have told you where I was going. I just went to Derek. He was in Spain, and I needed to talk to him. I took a Portkey, it was perfectly safe. Scorpius—" she seemed to see him and Edward for the first time. "We need to talk. Now. About… this morning. There are things you need to know. About the oath."
Scorpius was nodding, but didn't make any move to leave with her, despite the fact she'd taken half a step back. "I know. I can't tell them. But you can."
"Tell them, what, exactly?" Dianne seemed cautious, and slightly confused. She glanced between them and Scorpius, judging all the available reactions.
"Everything."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'll… here, let me put up some Family wards. Father's the only one who could override them." Scorpius had already drawn his wand and cast the necessary spells in silence. "They need to know, to understand."
"I'm not objecting, Scorpius. You know that I completely support generalizing this knowledge, especially among political allies. But are you certain you can stand here and watch me share this?"
"Yes. It can only help… them." For some reason that answer made Dianne nod, looking satisfied.
"Okay. Sit down." Scorpius sank immediately into the nearest seat, but Dianne did not draw up the chair next to him, instead remaining standing, although she did step up to the table they were sitting at. Something didn't seem right to Albus. Not just in the general confusion and mystery, but in Dianne's manner itself. It nagged him, but not enough to distract him from what Dianne was saying.
"How much do you two know about the hidden non-human representation that goes on in the Wizengamot?"
"You mean like the Potters and the Centaurs, before Grindelwald?" Edward clarified, and Albus nodded to show he also understood.
"Exactly like that." She glanced at Scorpius, and then looked back to them. "Since the time he was ten, Scorpius has been under oath to be a representative for the Phoenix in whatever capacity they require. Before this Christmas, that merely meant becoming a politician and keeping his eyes and ears open. This past weekend, however, he was ordered to undermine the very resolution we all wrote."
Albus felt himself stiffen, and he stared at his long-time friend, who hadn't look away from Dianne once yet and didn't do so even now. There was no sign that he felt the same punch in the stomach. If Scorpius was oath-bound to represent the opposition to their very first legislation, it would destroy them both. It would cost them clout here at Hogwarts, and most likely well beyond. Albus would survive the fallout, but not easily and House Malfoy – Draco Malfoy would likely never willingly seat Scorpius. This would not only undo their work, but make them all into fools as well.
On the other hand, Scorpius couldn't have undermined the Naga more if he'd been silent or even if he'd spoken out against them from the very beginning. Had it all been an act? And if it was, was killing this one proposal enough to justify eliminating any future possibility of political career?
Edward seemed to understand the issue as well, he certainly looked shocked enough, but evidently he was capable of speaking without screaming in betrayal. "Why write against an oath-bound interest?"
"I didn't know."
Scorpius sounded completely broken, and Dianne glanced at him again, but then looked back to the two of them, as though their reactions were the ones she needed to gage. "The Phoenix and the Naga have been in feuding since before Magic was fully settled—basically from the time they came into existence. Unfortunately, this isn't a well-known fact. For one thing, the Naga themselves have worked towards obscurity for centuries. For another, the history between them puts the Phoenix in a phenomenally bad light, in fact it's hard to justify their position at all, so they aren't eager to see it remembered either – not even their own twisted propaganda version of it. I found the facts by digging through Muggle legend and then cross-referencing with Wizarding history, magical theory, and even some poetry. Scorpius was told last night. I'll spare you all the details, because it gets pretty grisly. What matters is basically this: first, the Naga absolutely ARE the victims here, and this artifact of theirs has worked before, so we don't have to worry about long-term political fallout from skeletons in the closet being uncovered a few years from now. Second, the orders from the Phoenix don't change anything — Scorpius doesn't have to betray the resolution."
Scorpius didn't look relieved to hear this. In fact, he looked ill; his skin, which had been pale and waxy all day, had become nearly flaky-dry since Dianne had returned. If anything, it was worse than when she'd been away.
"Di, I can't give up my magic. I thought about it, and I tried but… I… I'm not strong enough for that."
There was a moment of tightness in her jaw when he used the nick-name, but she didn't seem surprised by the protest. "I know. You made that quite clear. But you only lose your magic if you break your oath. I don't believe that the oath requires you to turn on this resolution. And if I'm right, flipping could actually be what costs you your magic."
"What are you talking about?" Edward demanded, which was good because Albus was still incapable of demanding anything. There was the sheer volume of information being thrown at them (and the awe that Dianne had apparently uncovered it all sometime in the last three days, completely under their noses, and was so confident in her research that she spoke of these histories as hard facts, which she refused to do for even well-documented occurrences of the last war). There was the emotional whiplash due to Scorpius' betrayal (however indirectly or unintentionally) followed by growing hope (because Dianne sure sounded confident in her unsaid solution). But there was also a part of him which was noticing weighty phrases and words such as "grisly" "twisted propaganda" "betray the resolution" and "cost". While it was possible she was simply overcompensating, it seemed like heavy rhetoric to use against political and personal allies, especially because it was cutting Scorpius the deepest. In fact, although it was Edward who demanded an explanation, it was Scorpius that Dianne pinned beneath her intense stare.
"Scorpius, would you agree that your oath to the Phoenix is to be their representative? To do your best to do what is in their best interest?"
"Yes. I have to represent their interests, and they've made their interests clear." He said it quietly, almost gently, but with just a hint of question that made it clear to Albus that they were all hoping that Dianne might be able to produce some miracle to change their present circumstance.
"Wrong. They've made their wishes clear. They've made their opinion clear. Their interests are another thing entirely! It is the duty of the representative of a people to do whatever is best for the people. That is only the same thing as following their wishes if the people have their own best interests at heart. And if there is one thing the Phoenix have proven throughout history, it is that they are nearly eager to choose the worst possible path for themselves. It is your duty, by oath, to serve the Phoenix and your duty as Heir Malfoy to serve wizard kind. Neither duty requires you to reject this resolution."
Scorpius was almost frantic with fear when he spoke again. "I can't just vote for my opinion!"
"Will you just SHUT UP and listen to me! God!"
Albus tried to remember if he'd ever heard Dianne shout before, but couldn't recall a time. Scorpius shrank back almost as violently as she'd spoken, but it had no effect on Dianne, who was now facing only Scorpius, loaming over him and gesturing wildly in anger.
"I spent all of today and most of yesterday in this mess. Derek and I dug through close to four thousand pages of both Muggle and magical history, politics, and philosophy to put this together for you. We have thought this through from every angle we could find between us. Would it kill you to simply listen? At least do me the courtesy to let me finish before you start criticizing! I admit that I might not have handled everything perfectly since we met, oh, 8 weeks ago. But have I ever, ever, in that time given you any reason to doubt my judgment? My logic? My mind? My conclusions based on available data? I have heard every political lecture that you cared to give to me, I have adjusted my understandings of every prejudice that I held, I even allowed you to Obliviate my uncle! Right now my entire world is on its head, and I am doing everything in my power to keep you from making the worst possible mistake of your life—the least you could do would be to listen to what I have to say!" Scorpius was white as a sheet, just staring at her, and her gestures were jerky as though they were being torn from her body without being in her conscious control.
For a long moment there was simply silence, while Dianne breathed heavily. Then, she continued in a clipped tone that was trying and failing to resemble her usual control. "It is in the best interests of both parties that you represent—both Phoenix and wizards—for you to continue to pursue the resolution that we have written. The gains to the wizards are evident and explicitly stated in the resolution itself: primarily the chance to gain access to healing magic we had never before even considered possible. Furthermore, if this resolution fails the consequences may be rather dire. The Naga are desperate, and we have no idea of what magic they might do if we push them to the edge of extinction. As you have told me many times, wizards cannot afford another war at this point in our history.
"The interests of the Phoenix are less obvious. In fact, on the surface, they seem entirely disinterested in the whole affair. They have now expressed a desire to use this opportunity to make trouble for the Naga. It is possible that such a desire might trigger the oath if there were no other factors in play. That point is debatable, since the simple satisfaction of a desire is not a particularly tangible benefit to the species, but let's lay the point aside for the moment and examine the potential cost of Phoenix intervention in Naga affairs. I contend that any attempt by the Phoenix to harm the Naga is both foolish and dangerous. Magic has shown she is more likely to become actively involved with the Phoenix than with any other species. They were formed directly from Magic in a feat which has never been matched except in the simultaneous creation of the Naga. Then, after the bet, Magic interfered to bind them. Third, She purposefully perpetuated their binding. She unbound them some time later in a fourth separate incident. And finally, after they tricked the Naga, they were magically restricted to their avian forms. That's five separate incidents between the Naga and the Phoenix that invoked Magical attention, and the only one that worked in their favor was when they were helping the Naga. There is no reason to believe that further attacks won't invoke further punishment. On the flip side, it is possible that Magic may lift the restrictions she has placed, if they reform sufficiently. Historically, that's what happened with both the Centaurs and with vampires and there's no reason to believe it won't happen again. The Phoenix might be able to regain their humanoid forms. More important is the risk they run by assaulting the Naga, which is surely not in their best interests." Albus blinked, wondering when it had become common knowledge that the Phoenix had a humanoid form sealed from them by Magic.
"Magic hasn't acted since the house-elves." It was Edward that made the interruption, which made Albus even more impressed with his processing speed because he still felt like he'd been trampled by a threshal made of history and ridden by an avenging angel, but Dianne treated it as though it had been a choreographed part of her speech. Albus had never seen her so upset, or so viciously articulate.
"Yes—let's examine that circumstance, shall we? Magic intervened to save brownies when wizards were helping to save them from augureys. The brownies were turned to house elves and protected by Family magics and the augureys became little more than dumb birds haunting rainy skies. This is nearly exactly parallel to what has happened and is happening here. Magic has always favored the Naga. She's already bound the Phoenix to appear as animals. Perhaps this next betrayal will be sufficient to strike them completely witless as well! As the Phoenix representative it would be irresponsible for you to take the risk."
The logic was so beautiful, that it left them all in silence once again. Albus was mostly just stunned, all emotion driven out of him except for a sort of awful amazement at everything that had been said. It was enough to finally let him speak, and he was surprised to realize that although the oath had been bypassed and the resolution saved, there were still problems to be solved: "Even if Magic doesn't take his oath as broken, the Phoenix will. You'll have to be on guard constantly, possibly for the rest of your lives. So will Edward and I, for that matter, if they ever have any idea of what you've told us."
Dianne stared at him for a long moment, that same muscle in her jaw drawn tight. It was a tell he had never seen in her before, and he had no idea what it meant now. Finally, she answered him in a cold voice that gave him no hints to her thoughts. "That is, of course, one cost of hidden representation. I can't make that decision for you. In some ways, everything is already done. All I can say is that
Derek and I did our homework. We didn't know there was a magical portion to the public library when we went in, but when I saw books he couldn't we combed that place top to bottom and got all three librarians involved too. The Naga are innocent of black magic. Their healing magics are at least as good as rumored, perhaps even better. I will do whatever it is in my power to help the Naga, and if you'd like to walk you through every scrap of research—"
"That won't be necessary." Albus glanced at Edward, because while the reassurance was true, his tone was harsh rather than agreeing, and found the answer to his unspoken question was waiting in the corner of his eye to be noticed.
Scorpius was completely white, and he was trembling now, still staring at Dianne. After a long moment, she suddenly pulled out the chair across from him and sat down in it facing him. To Albus's surprise, he did not immediately reach out to touch her, and it was another very long moment before she picked up one of his hands in both of hers.
Scorpius let out a shaky breath that was almost a sob, and he didn't stop trembling for nearly a minute. During that time, Dianne's jaw remained tight, and Albus noticed that her breathing seemed to be almost perfectly even. When his hands finally stilled, she very quietly said, "Thank you for allowing me to speak. It was wrong of me to lose control and shout at you. I'm sorry for losing my temper. If you have something to say, I'm listening, now."
Scorpius was quiet for a long moment, then asked very timidly, "Do you think the Phoenix caused this?"
She seemed surprised that he had questions instead of objections, but she answered him levelly. "I think it's possible, but that we'll never know."
Scorpius was staring at Dianne, who was staring at their hands. "Do you really believe Magic will reward the Phoenix if I help the Naga?"
"Unless there are factors the Phoenix have not told you, I believe they gain nothing from the Naga's demise and risk quite a bit by trying to bring it about, the least of which is undermining your usefulness to them. The history they gave you simply doesn't match the facts it can be verified against. Given the full information that I have, I cannot see any advantage that could outweigh the possible harms."
"Why did you go to Derek?"
There was a very long moment during which Dianne stared at their joined hands, then she looked up and they studied each other for a few seconds. "I didn't want to do something I would come to regret. I trusted his judgment more than my own."
"And what was his judgment?"
"That I must trust myself. My mistakes are mine to make, and mine to overcome. Some actions and paths I must judge for myself. Love is about forgivable imperfections."
"Were you upset with me?" Albus took a deep breath, but Scorpius was starting to regain his color, and they were still studying each other, so he didn't intervene even as Dianne said without hesitating:
"Very."
"Because I wouldn't break my oath."
She didn't answer him immediately. He almost thought she wasn't going to answer at all. Then she said, "Because I couldn't even comprehend the actions which you were asking me to help you commit."
"I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"You are hurting." And suddenly Dianne dropped her head again, and her shoulders shuddered. It wasn't until Scorpius lurched out of his chair, tried to get closer to her—to hold her, to comfort her— that Albus realized she was crying silently.
It was over almost before he had really processed it though, Dianne gently pushing Scorpius back toward his chair, one hand still entwined in his, the other wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe, though they continued to fill slowly. "I'm fine, Scorpius."
"You're not."
"Alright, I'm not. But I don't want to be held right now." But things were starting to make sense to Albus, and he suddenly wondered if she just didn't want to be held by Scorpius.
"Please forgive me."
"You don't know what you're asking for." Before he could protest, she continued, her free hand again taking his. "It doesn't matter. I am already doing my best to forgive everything which is between us."
"How did you know I would apologize?"
"Healing requires remorse, Scorpius. Forgiveness does not. That is, actually, rather the point of it. I let go of everything I could and forgave you before I came back. No matter what you said here."
"Yet you're not calling me Zee." She looked away, guilty or nervous or both, hands still holding his, but more limply now.
"What do you want from me? You were ready to throw away everything, everything, for your magic. Turning on this bill meant turning on the Naga, who are dying, and might die out completely without our help. You knew that. In fact, it's for that motive that the Phoenix told you to do it. And you were willing to walk away from an entire people, walk away from a resolution that we built together, a resolution that represented everything we believed was right and necessary. Everything we put into it, everything we put into each other, and you just…" she looked back at him, but something in her face made Albus wonder if she was really seeing him. "I'm not rejecting you, Scorpius. I'm still wearing your ring and I'm still your intended. I want to make this work. But this hurts, Scorpius. It hurts deep. I feel betrayed and lost and powerless and forgiving that isn't easy. Even after I forgive, it doesn't just go away. I know you need me, and we'll spend the rest of tonight together, but I need some time apart. Once you're feeling better, I need some space to figure this out and try to decide where to go from here.
"I am your intended, I wear your ring, and I will still be wearing it tomorrow. But right now, I just can't call you Zee. I would apologize, and I am sorry for hurting you, but I'm not sorry for speaking the truth. I will do what I believe to be right, Scorpius, no matter what it costs me."
Scorpius didn't sleep that night. Point of fact, he didn't even lie down. (He wondered if Dianne would sleep tonight.) He knew it would be useless to try. Instead, he paced the length of the dorm room under the watchful eye of first Albus, and then Edward as his two friends slept in shifts. He knew, in some removed way, that they were concerned about his state of mind. (Pointless—Dianne had clearly stated that she wanted to "make this work".)
But Scorpius didn't feel the helplessness that had defined his previous descents towards death. He was physically weak, and he was coherent enough to know that his thoughts weren't as fluid as they ought to be. He could feel the nausea that would make eating impossible and turn to cramps by the next evening. But these felt distant somehow—like he was seeing his own body from the other side of a shimmering shield charm.
He had already realized, before she explained herself, that she had good reason for leaving (she had come back). In his depression, he had understood quite clearly the cowardice of his own actions. (Dianne will never love a coward.) And although he was more clear-headed now, he couldn't see his capitulation to the Phoenix in any more charitable light. He had faced a true dilemma, hard pressure, for perhaps the third or fourth time in his life and he had folded before it. As he always did.
But it was one thing to falter as a child faced with adult politics and vows as he had when he was only ten years old—a child never exposed to any other way of thinking. It was one thing to degenerate as his very life force drained out of himself in search of his mate—perhaps no longer a child, but influenced by factors beyond his own control. Those were not cowardice. These instances were simply… fact. weakness. Not ideal, but not his fault either.
Deciding to destroy the bill had been a conscious decision dictated entirely by his own fear. Fear of losing his magic, yes, and everything that it would entail—his family, Hogwarts, his future, his purpose—but also fear of the vulnerability. Fearing the inability to protect himself (protect Dianne). He hadn't looked for other ways out. He hadn't considered that there might be options. He had just fled from the Phoenix and back to Dianne and laid his burden on her shoulders.
Dianne had taken that burden and saved him from the weight of guilt and fear. But it had hurt her. (He had hurt her.) He never wanted to do that again.
Not just because he wanted to spare Dianne from pain (but yes, that, always that.) It was more though. It was the same thing he'd realized that morning. She made him want to be someone better. Not just because it would make her happy, but because he wanted to be a man worthy of her. She deserved the best. She was vibrant and strong, creative, assertive, passionate, and honorable. She made him want to be… more. More analytical. More compassionate. More certain of what was right and what was wrong.
And so he paced up and down the row between the green beds, thinking.
He could do as she had proposed. Of course he would, (he was already doing it). He had basically already broken the spirit of his vow to the Phoenix as they would see it—first by telling Dianne the secret without requiring her oath and then by witnessing her sharing the secret with his allies. But both of those actions had ultimately been to the good of the Phoenix, and he still had complete control over his magic. So Dianne was probably right. (Of course she was.)
But changing, becoming more, would mean much more than just doing as he was told.
He needed to purpose himself to his goal. He had already seen the ways in which Dianne was changing herself in the aftermath of Derek's reprimand. She had accepted the Obliviation of her uncle. She was improving her control of her temper. She'd removed the poisonous influence of Catherine Richards' friendship and she'd basically dropped the idea of Vega entirely. She'd poured herself into the politics of Slytherin House and their resolution. She'd considered unpleasant realities and worked within the existing constraints of the system.
So what could he do?
He needed to read a great deal more, both histories biased by non-wizard authors and some of the most important Muggle philosophy. He needed to establish more genuine relationships with his peer group. He needed to separate the world view preached by his father from the truths it contained, and discover for himself what was good and true in their culture.
It wasn't lost on Scorpius that his father's teachings had to be at the very least incomplete. According to the theories he'd grown up with, Dianne ought to have been impossible. She was well-read, beautiful, quick-witted, mature, and nearly magic-less. (But not lesser, never lesser.) He knew his father would brush it off as a result of her childhood trauma. And maybe it was. But it wasn't just Dianne who was remarkable. Derek was impressive as well, and both of her parents had been more than a match for his during their few shared dinners that holiday.
It was too soon to know the truth, but clearly magic wasn't a perfect indicator of quality, and if Dianne had been 'supposed' to be powerful, then blood wasn't a good indicator of magic as he'd been told.
Scorpius didn't notice when Albus finally woke Edward to take over the watching duty, and he wouldn't have noticed morning if Edward hadn't pointed it out to him. He showered quickly and headed to breakfast, eager to see Dianne and settle her mind.
It didn't go quite as he envisioned.
Dianne was already seated at the Slytherin table between Ackerley and Rosier when he approached, and though she looked up and nodded a greeting, she made no indication that he was welcome to join her. He settled in the nearest empty seat, beyond arms reach (what if something happened, what if there was an unforeseen danger) and was immediately approached by McMillan and Davies.
"I heard you presented to your Houses last night."
Scorpius glanced away from Dianne just long enough to know that it was Davies who asked. "Yes. Both House Potter and Malfoy will support the resolution to the floor as written."
"Congratulations." McMillan had settled herself on the seat opposite him, and Davies beside her. "I never did get a chance to hear the details. Care to pitch it to me?"
Scorpius looked at McMillan for just a moment, noting absently that Albus and Edward had grabbed the nearest available seating and someone had put food in front of him. When he turned back to Dianne, she was just glancing away. "I find it hard to believe you would still be ignorant after nearly a week and a half of discussion has already passed."
That earned him a subtle elbowing from Albus, but Scorpius didn't look at him. He didn't want to miss Dianne's gaze again. Albus seemed to sense a losing battle, because he took over the conversation.
"You'll forgive Heir Malfoy. He has been feeling poorly since this past Saturday. The resolution is set out in three main parts. First, to offer aid to the Naga here, on English soil. This includes immediate shelter, food, and medical provisions as well as a small sum for additional medicinal research. Second, the resolution provides for a private committee to be appointed to hear the concerns of the Naga in the place of the Wizengamot. This will allow them a venue to address their concerns in more detail. This committee will determine what if anything can be done to salvage the situation in Japan without compromising the Statute of Secrecy as well as hear anything else the Naga wish brought to our attention. Finally, this committee will address the third goal of the resolution: to investigate the artifact left in our care and the ritual which they intend to use it in. They will determine the nature of the magic involved, allow or disallow its use based on those findings and look for a substitute if necessary."
"And this has the support of both your Houses?"
"That is correct. Our Houses, and a number of allies as well. It is too soon to count the votes specifically, but I would not be surprised to see the actual tally take place as early as this Friday."
"How did you get your fathers to work together?"
"Neither is so proud that they couldn't read the pages before them. Once read, the legislation truly speaks for itself."
"I don't suppose you have a copy on hand?"
"I believe my year-mate does. Scorpius?"
Scorpius was listening, really, but Dianne hadn't looked back at him yet, and it was hard to focus on anything except hearing what she was saying to Rosier, which was proving impossible in the loud hall, since she was facing away from him. He nudged his bag closer to Albus without diverting his attention, and then scowled when his friend leaned into his line of view to open and dig though the book-bag. As soon as he turned his focus, Edward elbowed him from the other side and gestured as subtly as possible to his plate.
Scorpius knew that he should eat, but the reality was that the ache in his gut had nothing to do with hunger and he really couldn't care to split his attention to unimportant details. A Ravenclaw girl that Scorpius didn't recognize had approached Dianne, and after a few more sentences to Rosier she rose and the two of them left the Great Hall together.
Dianne met his eyes on the way out of the room, but she didn't slow as she past him and she didn't brush her fingers along his shoulder like she usually did.
It was a long, unimportant wait through breakfast, Transfiguration, and Potions until he saw Dianne again. He left the dungeons at nearly a dead run and was one of the first people to the Great Hall. He beat Dianne there, and claimed two seats about a third of the way down the table, waiting for her. Albus and Edward arrived with the rest of their class. The Hall slowly filled. He recognized one of the Slytherins who was taking Arithmancy with Dianne and stood to go looking for her. If her class was out, she should be here.
She entered the dining hall as Edward stood from his seat, and Scorpius immediately walked toward her, ignoring his trailing cousin. She continued walking toward the Ravenclaw table, and seated herself just before he reached her. The group of fellow Ravenclaws she was with sat around her leaving no room, but Scorpius was nearly beyond noticing. When he reached them, she was speaking.
"Obviously Riemann sums won't be sufficient for the final proof. But it only makes sense for us to at least run a few and make sure the model is on the right track. Even if we hit within 20% margin, I'll back down. It's just that this doesn't feel like second order growth to me."
"What else could it be?"
"I think we're dealing with an exponential. It makes sense. I know there's no evidence of decay, but you have to admit that there are suggestions of asymptotic behavior. At the very least, the Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Elemental Laws of Transfiguration tell us that there is some upper bound to the range."
"We aren't dealing with any of the excep—"
"—Dianne."
She turned casually, without startling, but also without any eagerness. "Hello Scorpius. Was there something you needed?" The question was entirely polite, but it was enough to close his throat up. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to reach out to her, to have her reach back to him, to offer touch and comfort. Instead, she looked at him with blank curiosity, as though there was nothing between them. Edward spoke into the silence that he left.
"We understood you were going to picnic with us by the lake today."
There had been no such arrangement.
"I apologize." (I'll play along and let you save face) "I should have let you know." (but I'm not actually sorry) "We were given the final parameterization for our mid-semester Arithmancy project today and assigned into our teams. I'll be working with my Housemates this afternoon." (I won't be seeing you) "We need to establish our first models as soon as possible. I'll see you this evening in the common room." (don't come looking for me again)
Scorpius felt Edward's hand close around his upper arm, the support mostly hidden by their robes. He didn't hear how his cousin dismissed them. He did see Dianne nod and turn away. He felt himself be steered out of the Great Hall and was glad when the nauseating smells ceased.
Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Dianne was not-here. Dianne was potentially in danger. He was not-there to save her if she was. She probably wasn't, but she might be.
History of Magic.
Dianne was upset. Dianne was hurt. Dianne was betrayed-aching-crying-masking-wounded-distressed-angry-worried-hurting. Because of him. Because he couldn't be what he wanted and she needed him to be.
Common Room. Whispers.
He knew, distantly, that people were starting to notice. Two meals apart wasn't completely unusual, and Dianne had been civil with him in public. But it was now just two hours before curfew, they hadn't been seen at all over the weekend and he knew he was starting to look pretty bad. He felt pretty bad.
Fortunately, none of them would guess at what had happened.
He sensed her coming, so badly was he longing for her, so that he was already half way to the common room door when she knocked on the stone. He slid out, barely registering his two friends behind him, and nearly ran into her as she tried to enter through what she thought would be an open doorway. He caught himself, hands on her shoulders, and quickly ran both of his palms down her arms.
She was here. She was safe, unharmed. She had come.
She still smelled cautious, reserved, as she probably had at lunch though there were too many around to be certain and now she smelled tired too. But there was no trace of fear-scent, or rage-scent, so nothing had happened to her while they were apart.
"Di."
"Scorpius." She stepped back, out of his gentle hold, and he had to force himself not to step forward and follow her retreat. She studied him for a while, searching for something in his expression. "We need to talk."
"Of course." She nodded, seeming to have expected this answer.
"I'd like to speak to him alone."
It took him a moment to realize she was addressing Edward and Albus. Edward answered her levelly. "Does he look like he's in any condition to find his own way back to the common room to you? We never leave him alone like this."
She snapped back, unhappy but in control and acquiescing, "Fine. But you two stay out of it. You can come, witness, satisfy your paranoia, whatever, but this is between Scorpius and I."
Edward opened his mouth to protest, and Scorpius found himself growling, leaning into this cousin's personal space in an aggressive stance, Dianne behind him where she was safe. He didn't need their interference with his mate. He didn't need them at all, but if Dianne was going to allow them they'd follow her rules. Edward lifted his open hands and glanced at the ground, and Scorpius turned away from his submissive opponent.
Dianne was watching him again with that measuring gaze.
"There's a small lab a little ways down this hall that I found the other day. It's dusty, but it's private." Without saying anything else, she turned and strode down the hall. Scorpius followed her.
Dianne had thought of very little except Scorpius that day. She knew she had to talk to him, but she needed time to get her thoughts in order and prepare the best way to speak them aloud. She had no wish to hurt Scorpius more than was absolutely necessary, and she knew some of the truths she had to share with him would hurt. She'd noticed how he looked at lunch, and knew he wasn't getting any better, but she wasn't prepared for Edward to confront her just before dinner and practically drag her into a private corridor.
He'd demanded to know how long she intended to 'play with' Scorpius's life. He'd accused her of cold-hearted manipulation and tried to insist that whatever it was she wanted and was trying to achieve, he had the ability to guarantee it as Scorpius' closest blood relative available at Hogwarts. Needless to say, she's been furious and offended. Too much had happened for her to be able to absorb it and fully react in a single day. He asked if she intended to wait until Scorpius was hospitalized. She told him to enjoy the hospitalization waiting for him when Scorpius found out that he'd called her out in front of her classmates and escorted her off like a naughty child and attempted to reprimand her the same way. The conversation eventually ended in her sweeping off to dinner.
She couldn't put it out of her head though, and eventually decided to talk to Scorpius after the meal. She would have preferred more time, but something in Edward's urgency had her worried. So she braced herself to see him, likely further degenerated, and went to find him. The mental preparation hadn't worked, not really. He looked ill. Grey and clammy skin, diminished demeanor, fevered eyes. It wasn't so different than how her mother had looked, in the beginning. Much better than she'd seen him at his lowest, but much worse than any other time since then.
What she had wanted to say to him now seemed callous, and she had to fight to maintain her anger. She had been hurt, betrayed, and she had a right to feel that way. Still, once they were in the room she'd selected, she knew she'd start out softer than she'd meant to.
"Please raise some wards." The room had once had high counter worktops and tall stools clustered around them. Now there were only a few foot rests remaining and about half of the lab stations. She'd chosen the room specifically because she wanted to stand. Even though she was the shortest person in the group, she knew that she was only one accustomed to standing for confrontations. Slytherins did all their most serious work while seated.
Scorpius performed the same silent wand motions that she knew signified secrets wards which would only be broken by another blood Malfoy.
"I want to talk about our future."
"Okay." Scorpius didn't offer anything further, but she was pretty sure that he was physically incapable of it anyway. He really did look horrible.
"I don't want you to die, Scorpius. Not today. Not while it's in my power to stop it. But… I can't go on like this either. I just… can't."
"I know. Derek told me: you'll never love a coward."
She nodded. "That is true. It's more than that though. We need to be realistic about what our future together holds."
"I don't follow."
"We haven't really talked about what happens after Hogwarts. We fought about Vega until we were both blue in the face, and I'm sorry for putting us through that. But it's the closest we've ever gotten to actually articulating what our plans are. What happens next?"
He seemed confused, and she knew that she was right to insist on starting on this topic. Everything else would be addressed in time. "We graduate from Hogwarts. We'll live in one of the Malfoy properties. I'll take over the Headship before I'm thirty, likely sooner. Then you'll sit in the Wizengamot as we talked about before."
She felt like crying, and wondered how much longer she would last. She'd been avoiding tears for almost 24 hours now. "Please, Scorpius. Be honest."
He looked wounded. "I would never lie to you."
"Then you're lying to yourself. Can you really look me in the eye and tell me your father is going to hand over the Headship when he knows that it will mean letting me be Madam Malfoy? When he can guess full well that I may end up sitting for you?"
He looked struck. It stopped her from throwing it in his face. But she didn't stop speaking.
"And what if he does? What if you become Lord Malfoy? Then I'm Madame Malfoy, and I cannot articulate just how much the thought terrifies me. I never intended to be a witch, Scorpius. Before this Christmas, my plans for my future were magic-less. I'm taking summer classes to prepare for the international bachelorette, which will replace my missing education in the eyes of the Muggle government. I intended to spend two years at a small college, then go to University. I intended to study law and business. I had no intention of using my wand or even living in England, necessarily. After the disaster that was OWLs… Scorpius I can't describe to you what it meant to feel my magic for the first time in my life, to be alive in a way that I had never been before. It was so amazing. But it meant being sick and weak in other ways, and then it faded. I feel that loss even now. I felt it all last summer, an emptiness that I couldn't fight. So I came back. But I feel it more here at Hogwarts than anywhere else. I thought it would be better to come back, to see magic and be able to hold my wand again. But it's not. It's worse. I know what I ought to be, and I'm not. I never will be again."
"We never talked about how we ended up in detention together. But the truth is that I didn't just lose control and start shouting at your godfather. I made a deliberate decision. I need to get a NEWT in potions in order to graduate from Hogwarts. And that means that I need to get a good enough grade this year to take it next year. I had to pass that potion. And nothing else had worked, nothing I did was good enough, so I took the risk just to try to get his attention. It was the last class of the year. If it didn't work, I planned to accept the consequences and mail in my withdrawal during Christmas. I only came back to school to save your life."
He had let her say it all. She had suspected that he would—she couldn't recall him ever interrupting her. But she didn't know what would come next. She paused, but he was still just looking at her. She didn't let herself glance at their audience. This was between them. "I don't know what the other option is. You have a vow to the Phoenix. You can't leave Wizarding England. This weekend proved that. But I can't be a part of that world. I just don't see any way forward. Everything looks so impossible."
This time when she fell silent she was determined to remain so until he responded. She searched his face for a moment, then looked down and simply waited. She couldn't look at him when he was like this and still say what needed to be said.
"You don't have to be afraid. You're my mate. There is nothing I won't do for you. I will always protect you. Whatever it takes."
"That's not true, Scorpius, and you know it. You've proved it."
"That's what I wanted to tell you. I've thought of nothing else all night. I'm going to change, Dianne. I don't want to be a coward. You deserve so much better than that. I am going to be stronger."
"Strong enough to say no to the Phoenix? Even if it means losing your magic?"
"I'm already doing everything you've told me to." He sounded hurt. More hurt. It made it hard to voice her own fears.
"And what about when they tell you to leave me? Because they will, Scorpius. I have convinced you to act against their wishes. They'll think that I managed to help you somehow safely break the oath. At the very least, they'll try to get you to leave me. What will you do then?"
"I will never leave you."
"And what if you do, Scorpius? Some day, for some reason? If I love you, if I let myself be your wife… then that's it. End of story. You become everything. You're my future, my family, my livelihood. My only power would come from your name, your influence, being your wife. And if I ever lost that, for any reason, I would have nothing. I don't like being helpless."
"You won't have to be."
"I already am." He growled at that. "I am, Scorpius. My only weapon is your life, which I won't risk. I am completely powerless." She lost the battle with her tears, but they fell silently, so she just looked away and hoped they didn't notice.
He stepped closer to her. "You will never be in any danger. I won't let anything happen to you." He gripped her upper arms and she let him, but still didn't look over. "I can't imagine you as powerless. It simply isn't in your nature. We will find a way to ensure it is never true."
"You can't will facts out of existence."
"You refused to accept helplessness this weekend. Why do let fear rule you now?"
"Because this isn't just a misunderstanding, Scorpius!" She was shouting now, turned to look at him fully, and gesturing so wildly that he had to release her. She didn't know how to stop. She wasn't sure she wanted to. "This is a complete and fundamental break in our very world views. You believe that the very magic in your veins is what makes you a person. You believe that bloodline matters and power matters and I don't have either one! You believe my parents are less than human. Every time I talk about Muggle psychology and philosophy you cringe, because you don't truly believe that Muggles and wizards think the same way. You don't believe in their personhood, not really.
"You judge Muggles for their science, the risks they have taken to achieve the successes they've accomplished. You look down on us for our history, our culture, our limitations, our powerlessness. You believe that we are blind and maybe we are. I've known the power you taste every day, even if just for a few weeks, and I know that I lack something fundamental. And maybe that makes me inferior. Maybe that makes me powerless. Maybe that makes me worthless."
"You could never be worthless." Dianne stopped talking then. Not because she was finished, but because she was shocked he'd been able to interrupt, and she wanted to know what had enabled him to do it. "You are powerful, and beautiful, and clever. You are intelligent, cunning, hard-working, and courageous. My father is wrong. You are worthy to be Madame Malfoy, and I would be proud to call Derek my brother. Magic is important, but there are so many things that matter more. I am the Heir of Malfoy. I am one of the most powerful casters in my year, I am the Heir of an Ancient and Noble house, I rule Slytherin House and I am a pureblooded wizard. But you saved the lives of the Naga. With nothing more than your own sense of what was right, your stubbornness, and your wisdom, you convinced me. But even before that, you convinced us all to write the resolution and to present it."
He caught her hands, and she gripped him back just as tightly. He wasn't finished yet.
"I don't know what our future holds. I don't have an exact answer. But we can figure it out, together. I've watched you grow so much just in the short time that I've known you. Every obstacle just makes you better as you overcome it. I want to do the same. I don't know exactly how I'm going to do it, but I fully intend to become the man you deserve. Everything you accused me of—it's true. Or it was. I did look down on your family. I didn't care about the Naga, not really. And I betrayed you. I am so, so sorry for hurting you. Please, I want to heal this together."
She was still crying, she realized. It felt almost surreal—too good to be true, too easy, and somehow also not good enough. She felt free, and simultaneously as though nothing had changed in the least. She didn't know what to say. So she closed the last bit of space between them, freed her hands, and hugged him tightly.
He raised his arms without hesitation and hugged her back. For a long time, they simply stood there together, clutching each other and rocking ever so slightly. She turned her face into his robes and cried softly, and he just held her and ran a hand over her hair every so often.
Finally, she broke the silence. "I don't know what to say. I need to think." She felt him stiffen slightly and knew that he thought she was pulling away from him again so she tightened the hug as she continued. "But I don't want to be alone. Just, just wait here with me. Please."
"Of course." She rested her forehead against his shoulder as she tried to sort out everything that had been said. It was too much—but she couldn't just leave things as they were. It felt empty, somehow, and she didn't want to let it fester. She tried to look into the future, and it seemed the same as it had two hours previously.
"How do I know that you can change?"
She didn't know if she meant it to be an actual question, or if it was just her own hopelessness seeking a voice. Scorpius answered anyway. "I will. It may take a little time. But I know that I can do this, especially with your help. Just give me a chance." The words rumbled through her, standing as close together as they were. She tried to picture this, and found herself instead contemplating the harsh, aristocratic features of Draco Malfoy.
"And your father?" She could feel him drawing breath to answer. "Don't say anything you don't mean. And don't give me 'we'll work it out'. I don't want platitude."
"I can't imagine that he would seek to hurt me. And hurting you would hurt me deeply. But if it comes down to a choice between you… I'd pick you. I think he's right in a lot of things. But so are you. The difference is that you can acknowledge that you're wrong. More than that, when you're wrong you work to fix it. I've never seen him do that."
"I want so badly to believe you Scorpius."
"I would never lie to you!" she clung more tightly in response to his hurt and anger.
"I didn't mean that. I just meant that it's so much to absorb. It's too much to really grasp. I don't think you're lying. It's just that… well, emotions aren't logical. It all still feels like words to me."
"How can I prove it to you?"
"It will take time." She wondered if they had time, or if the Veela would take that as rejection. "We'll just have to try to work through it. Together."
He was quiet, but she didn't look up at him. She was quite sure she didn't want to see his face. "Why are you afraid to be Madame Malfoy?"
Well, she had let that slip out. And they needed to talk about it. "I will never be good enough for the women that are supposed to be my peers. It's not like politics. In politics there is a standard. If you're right, then eventually everyone has to listen to you or look like a fool. You can work one person at a time, one piece at a time, and you can win. In social circles, there is no criteria, and there are no small victories. All it takes is one petty laugh and everything you work for is ruined. But it still has all the dangers and drawbacks of politics, too. The masks, the manipulations. When I use these things for politics, it's exhilarating and liberating. I feel in control. I know what I'm doing and why. But in social circles, the mask controls me. It happened every time I went to those stupid debate camps. In the rounds, I was fine. Anything I did or said I could just shake off. But when we started just hanging out, talking, discussing, chatting… then I said things I didn't believe and didn't want to. I did it for no real purpose or reason, just because it seemed like maybe I should. I didn't gain any friendship for it. It was fake and I think somehow everyone always knows that. But I can't stop it. When I socialize I lose myself. I always have."
"No, you haven't." He pulled away from her, and tilted her face to look up at him. "I mean that. You have made more genuine connections with the Slytherins than I've seen in 7 years here. You don't realize you're doing it, and I'd bet half the time the rest of them don't realize it either, but you have a vitality and truthfulness and inspires others to watch to be sincere too. I want you to be Madame Malfoy, because I think you'd do an excellent job of it. What you're doing here with the Naga isn't so different than the kind of thing you'd do for a charity. And the networking that you've done with Rosier and Ackerley is a solid foundation for future familial alliance. Give yourself a little credit."
"You're hardly impartial."
"Then ask them." She'd nearly forgotten about their audience, and she felt herself blush deeply as she realized that she'd just admitted some of her deepest fears to them both.
"He's right." Albus said immediately. "You'd make a stunning Madame Malfoy."
She forced herself to focus on Scorpius. He was the one that mattered. She opened her mouth to ask about their philosophical differences regarding the rule of law, but he spoke first. She listened.
"I'm not impartial. That's true. How can I be, when I've spent eight weeks with you? I've seen your passion for justice, your love for you family, your sheer competence! You are strong willed and beautiful, articulate, clever, kind, hardworking, and determined. You motivate the people around you to what is right. Can you deny any of this?"
She was too stunned to answer. Alone, any of those might have applied to her. But when he placed them next to each other, side-by-side, it added up to someone she couldn't possibly be. And yet, it was indeed all true.
"The Veela didn't make a mistake. You are my soul mate, my other half. Nothing will come between that, nothing will change that. I will say it as often as you need to hear it until you believe it. You don't need Vega to tell you that you're worth everything an entire country could offer you. I knew that from that first morning, sitting in your living room, listening to you work. We don't agree on everything. There are still issues to work out, and if our future needs to be on that list then we'll put it there. But we can do this. Do you still want to?"
"Yes." She took a deep breath. "Yes. I want to make this work." She glanced around the room, trying to buy herself some time to assimilate. Unfortunately, she had chosen the room specifically for its Spartan nature.
"We should get back to Slytherin, at least put in a showing of some kind. How much trouble would we be in if I 'accidently' fell asleep on the Slytherin couch with you?"
He seemed to freeze in an entirely different way, and she heard either Albus or Edward gasp softly. She knew it was a bad idea. There was school trouble to consider, being out after curfew for one, and the fact that technically she wasn't even supposed to know where the Slytherin common room was let alone go into it, although the school had overlooked the second half of that for weeks now. Then there was the social trouble: even being intended wouldn't stop rumors if she was still in Slytherin House the next morning. But she was quite simply exhausted, and being in Zee's grip felt so right.
"It doesn't matter." Hearing him say that made the night a little more real, and drove home everything he had promised her. It was enough that she knew she'd be okay to go back to Ravenclaw without him.
She heard one of the other two step closer. "Yes, Scorpius, it does." It was Edward who spoke. "Think of what they'd say about her tomorrow. Dianne deserves better than that. Take her back to her common room, and be in bed before curfew. You'll see each other tomorrow." He was right, of course, but Zee was still waiting for her reaction before he said anything. She nodded, loosened her hold and wiped her eyes on her sleeves.
"You're right. I shouldn't have asked." He brushed the hair out of her face in a way that somehow told her he disagreed with her assessment.
"We could chaperone." Albus said gently, thinking it through aloud. "If we went back to Slytherin now, you'd have just over a half hour together. Spend it however you like. At curfew, the four of us will walk you back to your dorm. The professors won't give us any trouble." He hesitated before continuing. "But if anyone asks, you should tell them you've had some bad news regarding your family. You don't have to specify, but you've clearly been crying." She nodded, grateful, and Zee draped an arm over her shoulders. She took a deep breath as he led her out of the classroom, and it was the first time since that night at the arcade that she fully believed everything would work out.
-Chapter End. 10,200 Words-
Author's Note:
We apologize for the delay in the publication of this chapter. I decided to re-work one of the scene which just never felt quite right to me. My beta was a very good sport about re-editing it three more times to get this to you before she heads back to school. The next two posts should be much quicker. That's right everyone, just two more chapters to go!
Again, I thank you for reading. All feedback is appreciated.
We remain yours,
Saphrae (and beta)
Posted on August 24, 2014.