Author's Note: [07-06-2012]- Edited for grammar and continuity. Happy Reading!

Chapter 11

" A Malfoy Will Always Find Allies "

January 11, 2032

The next day passed slowly, almost in a haze. Scorpius found himself watching the people around him more than he had in the past, Clarence's words now weighing heavily on him as they echoed in his mind.

During his morning class, he watched the first years as they huddled over their caldrons. Everything was so new to them. They would add in one ingredient after another nervously. Even if their attempts would prove disastrous, that youthful excitement never left their faces. Scorpius sat down on his chair in the front of his class as he watched them work.

So many had been raised by Muggles, growing up not knowing even the simplest of potions. They were so eager to learn, so eager to expose themselves to such fantastical sights, they did not care if they failed or succeeded.

Scorpius glanced out of the windows. He always kept them open if he could. He himself enjoyed to do potions someplace dark and quiet, but that was probably from years at Hogwarts and then as an apprentice in Siberia. The students of Peppertongue were completely different creatures.

Having the windows closed and curtains drawn had visibly made them nervous, as had his quite distant placements of their workstations. After a few lessons, without any fuss or announcement, Scorpius had subtly moved the students slightly closer and left the windows open. The students had actually had smiles on their faces the first day of the changes. Scorpius was not so sentimental to have inconvenienced himself for the sake of a few smiles, but the quality of the work did increase substantially as well after the changes, so the windows remained open.

Walking in between the rows of diligent students, an idle thought drifted through his mind. 'These Mudblood children are filth. Nothing but filth, dirtying the name of Wizard.' It was something a friend of his grandfather's had said years ago and had been echoed by Belrose and many of her associates. As he watched his students, every single one of them half-bloods or less, Scorpius wondered if Belrose and those like her had ever even spent any real time with these 'Mudblood' children.

Scorpius himself had always thought that he disliked children. They made him apprehensive and he did not know how to act around them. They required a certain level of affection and care of which Scorpius did not think himself capable. It had never been his intention to teach. Moving to California and teaching Potions at Zenbazi had been Belrose's idea, her command to him.

He had read somewhere that "those with the ability and the will will accomplish many a great thing. Those without, will merely teach about it." Teaching, he always felt, was beneath him.

It had certainly felt like a burden at Zenbazi, teaching his beloved craft to a bunch of ungrateful, spoiled brats. But the students of Peppertongue were so different. They were curious and creative. Scorpius was stern with them, but his Peppertongue pupils had become quite dear to him. Albus played a hand in that, of course. He was constantly singing their praises and it was difficult not to be taken in by Albus's enthusiasm.

That evening, he took Albus out to dinner at the Galloping Goblin in Dragons Camp. It was a family restaurant, full of children and parents, and though Scorpius out of place for the most part, Albus genuinely enjoyed the atmosphere. Considering how boisterous his family was back in England, Scorpius thought it made sense.

As Albus recounted some of his adventures from the day, telling Scorpius of all the mistakes and successes of his students with a glowing look of pride on his face, Scorpius silently made a vow to himself. No matter how uncomfortable or nervous it made him to become involved with Belrose's game of intrigue, he had to do it. So long as he knew what Belrose was doing, he would be able to protect Albus and the students who made him happy.

"Scorpius, is something the matter?" Albus asked softly as they made their way up the stairs to the professors' quarters after they had finished dinner. "You have been looking at me oddly all night."

Scorpius could feel his face reddening. He had been so lost in thought he had ended up watching Albus more than usual. "Ah, no, it's nothing, Albus. I suppose I am not quite ready to be back in school."

Albus grinned as he laughed, reaching out to shove Scorpius. "Are you serious? I thought the holidays would last forever! I could hardly wait to return. It figures that you would want a longer vacation, however."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You have always liked to be stay in that four poster bed of yours!"

Scorpius crossed his arms as he stopped in his tracks. "Well, you do, too!" Albus's eyes widened. Scorpius's blush spread as he replayed the last last few moments in his head. He shook his head as he quickly added, "I mean, you like to stay in your bed, as well."

For several moments, the two stood facing each other. Several times, Scorpius was sure Albus had been about to say something, but stopped before any words would form. Eventually, Albus stepped close and slung an arm around Scorpius, giving him a friendly half hug. "Well, I think I should be getting ready for bed. Long day of work tomorrow."

Before Albus could more away, Scorpius slipped his arms around the shorter man and pulled him closer, giving him a proper hug. "Good night," Scorpius muttered quickly before he turned and walked down the hall in the opposite direction towards his own room as quickly as he could without appearing desperate to get away from Albus.

The hug had been sudden and ended as soon as it had begun. Albus wondered what had brought about the strangely affectionate action, but soon put it from his mind. Scorpius had been acting strangely that whole evening. He probably just had a lot on his mind. There was always a logical explanation for everything Scorpius did, Albus reminded himself. When Scorpius's form disappeared in the darkness, Albus turned and walked to his own quarters.

Within the safety of his own room, Scorpius flung himself on his bed. He groaned, annoyed with himself.

"My Dear," cooed a young woman from one of the portraits on his wall, "Whatever is the matter? Did your date not go well? Did she reject you?"

Scorpius glared daggers at her. "None. Of. Your. Business," he snapped as he suddenly grabbed a pillow, tossing it at her frame. The woman hardly flinched.

"Honestly. You are just being childish. A man your age... acting like a love sick teenager."

"It was not a date. I was not even with a woman," Scorpius muttered, standing up tiredly, walking over to his desk. He could not get to sleep and he had some letters to finish in any case. They would prove important in the coming months.

Even with Scorpius making a grand show of ignoring her, the young woman was not to be discouraged so easily. "So, not a woman? Oh, how scandalous, my dear."

"Matilda, please, shut your mouth," he said, reaching up to rub at his forehead. "I am clearly doing some work."

"You are clearly trying not to think about your little dalliance. So, what is his name? Have I seen him?" The dark haired woman suddenly began to giggle, "Oh, what am I saying? Of course I have, surely."

"Matilda," Scorpius growled warningly.

"You do not fraternize with very many people outside of the school, except for that large, bearded man, but somehow..." she trailed off, glancing Scorpius up and down,"I cannot see you and him having much of a happy future together."

Scorpius rested his forehead against the desk. He would not get any work done until Matilda was done thinking aloud.

"Oh, goodness... it isn't a student is it? You have been close to Logan and Matthew as of late." Before Scorpius could correct her, she gasped."It isn't young master Lucas is it? My dear, you are an absolute monster to go after one so young!"

Scorpius gave her a look of horror. "What on earth are you talking about, you silly woman? Lucas is my student. As are Logan and Matthew. I have no interested in pursuing such a relationship."

"Then perhaps the elder Mr. Rutherford."

"Now you are just having me on," Scorpius grumbled. "That man is old enough to be my grandfather." Mentally, Scorpius reprimanded himself. What did he think he was doing, playing along with Matilda's little game? When she had been alive, Matilda had been a nurse. Scorpius decided that if her patients had not been crazy prior to being admitted into the hospital, they would have become mad having to spend extended periods of time with her.

Suddenly, Matilda grinned from ear to ear. "I know who it is." The tone in Matilda's voice caused the blood in Scorpius's veins to run cold. "It's Doctor Huerta, isn't it! It is. A few of us girls were in the Hospital wing when you were taken ill. He was very thorough with you."

Scorpius's whole face with bright red at the thought of what Huerta might have done to him. He doubted the man would have done anything lewd, but he knew full well that Huerta was known to put on 'shows' for the young women in the portraits he kept up in his hospital wing. Matilda took the blush to mean that she had hit the nail on the head, so, with a squeal, she ran off to tell the other portraits before Scorpius could stop her.

"What a wretched woman," Scorpius muttered under his breath as he turned his attention to his letters. As if he would be interested in Huerta of all people. He wasn't interested in anyone. He had no right to be, not when there was so much at stake. Who thought about romance when there was a war on the horizon? Not Scorpius.

The hug earlier had merely been an anomaly.

He attempted to go back to writing his letters. One to Ms. Pansy Parkinson. Another to Ms. Millicent Bulstrode. When he sealed the third letter, addressed to one Mr. Lorcan Scamander, he set his pen down.

After he fetched his coat, tucking the envelopes into the pocket, he walked up to the Owlry. Artemis was resting on his perch, watching the young owls swooping in the field below. Scorpius smiled as he walked beside the large creature. Reaching out, he attached the letters to its feet. "Be safe, Artemis," he said, gently smoothing the owl's gray coat. With a trill, Artemis took off to deliver his master's messages diligently.

Leaning against the railing, Scorpius watched as Artemis disappeared into the night sky. The letters he carried were of vital importance and Scorpius could think of no creature he trusted more than Artemis. In all his years of service to the Malfoy family, Artemis had never lost a letter or had been late on a delivery.

When Artemis's form was no longer visible in the cold winter sky, Scorpius turned to walk back to his quarters. When he pushed his hands into his pockets for warmth, his fingers brushed against the box from the previous day. He had forgotten about it entirely.

Taking it out of his pockets, he pulled out his wand as well. He figured now, in the relative solitude of the Owlry, was as good a time as any to see just what sort of gift Clarence had given him. He tapped his wand against the box and the paper wards slipped off, smoldering to ask as they fell to the floor. That was never a good sign.

Opening the box cautiously, Scorpius raised a brow in confusion when all he saw was a gold Galleon, glistening in the faint light of the moon. Without even thinking, Scorpius picked it up. An instant later, it felt as if a force had grabbed him and was unceremoniously pulling him downward.

He suddenly found himself in what looked like a laboratory. The Galleon had be some sort of unregistered Portkey. Slipping the now useless coin into his pocket, he gripped his wand tightly. There did not seem to be anyone in the brightly lit lab, but that that could change in a moment's notice.

Walking through the lab, his eyes constantly glancing towards the doors for any sign of movement, Scorpius examined all of the experiments. None of it seemed particularly sinister until he came across a large tank in the shape of an upright pod. There was only a small opening, but from what Scorpius could see it was filled with some sort of cloudy dark blue liquid. It looked a little familiar.

His curiosity had gotten the better of him and he was trying to deduce what sort of liquid was inside of the strange holding tank. He was leaned in close, face practically up against the window into the pod when something suddenly floated up from the murky depths, tapping against the glass. Scorpius screamed out as he leaped away from the tank, a half dissolved human skull pressing up against the glass now. That was why the liquid had seemed so familiar! It was a corrosive mixture called 'golodnyi vody', 'the hungry water ', and he had produced liters upon liters of it when he was working for Belrose in Siberia. It made "cleaning" very simple.

"Scorpius! Welcome."

Scorpius spun around, his wand pointed out in front of it, an Unforgivable on his lips. He did not relax even when he saw Clarence smiling at him.

"What the hell is all of this?"

"Please, do put the wand down, Scorpius. There is no need for that," Clarence said as he walked towards the tank. "After all, you are our guest here," He said, jotting down the readings. Scorpius recognized the folder, the paper, the hand-writing.

"Huerta. Is he involved in all of...this?" he asked, motioning to the laboratory with his wand.

Clarence chuckled. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to figure that out. Dr. Huerta has been instrumental in our research here."

Scorpius lowered his wand, but kept it in his hand. "And who is that exactly?"

"Does it matter?" Clarence asked, shrugging.

Scorpius could feel every muscle in his body tense. He remembered back, several months ago, to how worried Albus had been on Clarence's behalf. Was this callous creature really the same child that Albus had felt sorry for? It was hard to believe. "That used to be a person. It matters to someone."

Clarence laughed, but yielded to Scorpius's questions. "His name was Bernard Fisher. Twenty years ago, he was a simple accountant, eking out a modest living. Then, Belrose gave him an irresistible offer."

Sickness nearly over-whelmed Scorpius. "You mean he's still alive in there?"

"Of course. He's been in that particular tank about ten days now. Our data is incredible," Clarence declared enthusiastically, as if he was talking about a plant he was keeping in Herbology.

Raising his hand, Scorpius pointed his wand at Clarence. "Release him," he demanded, his voice steady, his hands unwavering.

"Any why would I do a thing like that?"

"Because I said so."

Clarence smirked now. "Or what? You'll kill me? You know as well as I do that so long as Belrose is alive, I can't die."

It started out small, almost inaudible, but soon Scorpius's chuckling filled the room. It was such a strange, cryptically broken sound that Clarence's triumphant smirk disappeared. As Scorpius stepped forward, Clarence cowered. "That is what makes this game so fun," he whispered, "I cannot kill you, but I can make you hurt. And you know just how good I am at that." There was a sort of distant madness in Scorpius's eyes and Clarence flinched, instinctively bringing his arms up defensively. Clarence could feel his whole body trembling in fear under Scorpius's gaze. All of the stories he had heard about Scorpius seemed to ring true: Belrose's Bloodhound was a creature to fear.

"A-alright. I'll l-let him go," Clarence stuttered, retreating to his his old self. Whatever sort of confidence being faux-immortality had given him was lost in Scorpius's presence. Scorpius took a step back so that Clarence to work the machine, the golodnyi vody filtering out of the tank, and down the drains in the floor. As he watched the vile mixture disappear, the smell of rotted flesh filling the room, Scorpius began to relax. Clarence glanced at Scorpius nervously. "Should I...open it?"

Scorpius nodded and Clarence opened the top of the pod. Stepping forward, Scorpius peered inside. The man, or what was left of him, was half dissolved by the corrosive liquid, but the flesh as already beginning to grow back, returning the body to it's former composition.

Within minutes, the man was gasping, his new lungs attempting to regain their former function. Before Scorpius could breathe a sign of relief for the man's safety, the man began to speak out in sputtering gasps. 'Mudblood. Filthy Mudblood. She will kill you.'. He repeated those words again and again, spitting them out hatefully, as he reached one skeletal hand out for Clarence. A look of fear crossed Clarence's face as he stepped back, bringing his wand up to protect himself. The beginnings of various curses were on his lips, but no confidence remained in his heart.

As he watched the scene unfold before him, Scorpius was suddenly overcome with a feeling of anger. He had scared Clarence to save this man from further suffering and now he was wondering if such mercy was deserved. Before the man could gasp out another foul utterance, Scorpius swiped his wand through the air several times, each time cutting through the air with exact precision. In his mind, Scorpius wordlessly cast the spell he had strong armed the spirit of Severus Snape into teaching him: Sectum Sempra. He had wanted to test its effectiveness on someone like himself, anyway.

The man's still healing body was suddenly cut open, gushing out sprays of blood as if Scorpius had attacked him with a blade. It was good to know that having Belrose's curse did not render such a spell ineffectual. Clarence was too thankful to even question Scorpius. Rushing forward, he slammed the top of the pod down. Moments later, a fresh rush of golodnyi vody was being injected into the pod, the man flailing and struggling within the metal chamber.

Clarence gave a shaky sigh as he set his folder down. Taking a vial from his jacket, he quickly tossed it back. It was a vial of Felix Felicis, no doubt in Scorpius's mind. One did not forget the golden light easily. He supposed that explained a good deal about the Clarence in front of him and the Clarence Albus recalled. Scorpius also knew that one could easily become addicted to Liquid Luck.

"Don't give me that look," Clarence gasped out as he reached up, wiping the sweat from his brow, eagerly waiting for the potion to take effect.

"Any other time, I would have told you the dangers of dependency, but seeing as you are already on a suicide mission against an impossibly powerful enemy, I suppose my warning would fall on deaf ears," Scorpius replied, walking towards the door. He wanted to be as far away from that particular experiment as he could get.

The rest of the building was as modern looking as the laboratory. They walked through several science rooms, all of them filled with various pods. A small part of him felt bad for the people undoubtedly suffering in the tanks. A greater part of him felt somewhat vindicated. From how Clarence reacted earlier, he doubted those in the tanks were innocent bystanders. They were probably getting exactly what they deserved.

But then, was Scorpius really all that different from them? It was mere chance that he was not in one of those tanks.

"This is the training ground. There are a few members here, practicing," He said, leading Scorpius to a large observation deck. Down below, he could see a dozen or so children, most throwing spells and hexes at each other while they ran through the obstacle course, hiding behind cover and trying to move to more strategic positions. The casual observer may have just scene children at play, but Scorpius could see it for what it actually was; training for guerrilla warfare.

"When you spoke of your group, I had not realized you meant school children," Scorpius muttered in disgust, looking away. He had wanted to protect Albus, to protect the children he cared for, not to throw them in the front line.

"Most of our members are adults. These are just some of the older students from Kingston and Zenbazi. They volunteered."

"They're children," Scorpius spat out, finding himself becoming outraged on Albus's behalf.

Clarence glanced down at them. "They stopped being mere children long ago."

Scorpius could feel his shoulder slump. He could not argue with Clarence, not when it came to Belrose, for he had been with her for years. He had seen how thoroughly and completely she would ruin the lives of all those with whom she crossed paths. She would go after men and women of all stations, but when they would not succumb to her will, she would go for their children, their grandchildren, anyone they had ever loved. Belrose always got who she wanted. He did not know what happened to those children below specifically, but he could hazard several guesses, none of them in the least bit pleasant.

"Where are we, in any case?"

"This is our head quarters. We're under Dragons Camp."

"I suppose that is a logical choice. From the looks of this place, there is a lot more money behind your organization than I would have thought," Scorpius commented offhandedly as he really looked around him. Everything was new and looked rather expensive. It really wasn't something a student on scholarship to Peppertongue would be able to afford.

Clarence smiled, watching the training session down below. "There are a lot of wealthy people who back us. Many wealthy, desperate people."

Scorpius nodded his head, understandingly. "They realize their time is running out, then?"

"Most only have a year left."

"That will make things more difficult," Scorpius conceded as he took out the golden Galleon, turning it over in his hands. "I know of certain people who may be able to help us. I have already been getting into contact with them."

"Y-you do?" Clarence asked, obviously in surprise. He had head a few things about Scorpius and his family, but none of it would lead him to think that Scorpius had any sort of ties that would be able to help them.

"A Malfoy will always find allies," Scorpius murmured with a smirk. Those were his grandfather's words. They had not helped Lucius Malfoy, but perhaps they would help his grandson. "I know of people with money, people with influence, people who owe me favors. Despite that, it won't be easy."

"I didn't think it would be," Clarence assured him. "We've tried to do our own recruiting these last six months, but there aren't many who believe us about the threat she poses."

"Most will not," Scorpius said, slipping the coin back into his pocket. "They have gotten used to the world as it is. Everyone just wants to pretend that Voldemort was the last of the great villains."

"Will your friends believe you?" Clarence asked, worry in his voice despite the boost from the potion.

"Albus will," Scorpius reassured him.

"No," Clarence suddenly said, his voice steady. Any sense of hesitation was now gone from his voice.

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'no'. Scorpius, he isn't like us. I don't want him involved."

"I don't either, but-"

Clarence cut him off before he say another word. "Whatever it takes, we have to keep innocent people out of this. It isn't their fight."

Scorpius sighed, feeling a headache developing. Why did Clarence have to turn out to be so stubborn? Stubborn people annoyed him. Clarence was beginning to sound a lot like James Potter. "This is a fight that will determine his future as well. He deserves to be allowed to fight for it."

"And if he's attacked? If he's shot, or worse?" Scorpius tensed. Clarence knew exactly what to say to make Scorpius waver. "Unlike us, Mr. Potter could actually die. We need to get him out of here."

"And what of the other students?"

Clarence was silent as he looked away from Scorpius, unable to meet his gaze. "We can't save everyone."

Scorpius smirked grimly. Perhaps Clarence was even more like James Potter than he gave him credit for. "Trying to appear noble while only saving the person you care for, Clarence? How pathetic."

Looking back to Scorpius, Clarence was now able to meet his eyes, having found his courage. "I don't apologize for it."

"Good." That simple word confused Clarence. He had obviously been expecting a fight. Scorpius understood why they could not suddenly evacuate a whole city. Belrose would know something was afoot and whatever upper hand they may earn would be lost. If he could only save one, even if it meant being despised for it, he wanted it to be Albus. "I suppose in a way we are the same, you and I."

"So you will get Mr. Potter to leave?" Clarence asked hopefully.

"I will plead with him if I must."

January 13, 2032

"Scorpius!" Albus called out as he made his way to where Scorpius was walking out of his classroom. "I was going to go to Dragons Camp for dinner. Did you want to join me?"

Scorpius shook his head, tucking a large stack of papers under his arm. "I am afraid I haven't the time. I have some letters to send and then papers to grade."

"You're writing a lot of letters lately," he muttered suspiciously. "Girlfriend?"

Laughing at Albus's sudden inquisition, he shook his head. "Not even close."

"Good," Albus said without skipping a beat.

"Good?" Scorpius repeated. It was a simple response but also a strange one. Scorpius was not entirely sure he had heard properly.

Having his words repeated flustered Albus. Adjusting his jacket, he cleared his throat, trying to be as dismissive as possible. "I just meant I wouldn't want to deal with a love sick friend is all!" Scorpius continued to look at Albus curiously so Albus took that moment to turn and walk in the opposite direction before Scorpius could question him anymore. "Alright, I will see you in the morning for breakfast!"

Scorpius shook his head with a light chuckle. He would have to take care of whatever it was that was happening between him and Albus. It was not usually in their nature to dance around a subject, no matter how unusual or awkward. But, for the time being, he had much bigger things to worry about.

Walking to his quarters, he quickly got dressed. There soon came a light tapping at his window. Opening the window, he allowed Artemis into the warm room. Letting him find a comfortable perch he took the package. It was from Pansy Parkinson. He grinned as he quickly unwrapped it. Just as he had requested, she had send him two stones. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he grabbed one of the stones and tucked it back into his pocket.

He now stretched a bit as he sighed. Using a Portkey across too great a distance always left him feeling a little nauseous. The last thing he wanted to do was to show up at Lorcan's home and promptly vomit all over his shoes. He had taken this journey more times than he would have liked over the last few days. He would have to send Ms. Parkinson and Ms. Bulstrode rather nice gifts once it was all over. He was sure fast tracking approval for his international Portkeys probably violated several ethics codes at the Ministry. Oh well.

Touching the stone, the world around him passed by in a flash, and when it stopped, he found himself outside of a small cottage. A young man, about Scorpius's age, approached him, hugging a thick coat around him.

"S-s-scorpius," the man greeted nervously. The man was several inches shorter than Scorpius and much thinner by far. His hair was a dirty blond and went past his shoulders in straggly curls. His eyes were large, making him look to be constantly surprised. Scorpius always thought it made him look excessively nervous.

"Scamander? Where is your brother?" Scorpius asked as he walked to the man. "He was supposed to be the one to meet me." Lysander and Lorcan were the twin boys of Luna and Rolf Scamander. Lorcan had been sorted into Ravenclaw and was by far one of the most intelligent people he had ever met. That was why Scorpius had been hoping to meet with him. Lysander, the younger of the two, on the other hand, had been sorted into Gryffindor despite being by far one of the most cowardly people Scorpius had ever met.

"He and my mother were c-c-called away," he explained quietly, biting at his bottom lip when Scorpius's gaze narrowed hostilely. "S-s-something about one of the articles they want to run i-i-in the Q-q-quibbler."

Scorpius looked him up and down, appraising. He had hoped to speak with Lorcan. When it came to potentially frightening matters, Lysander was more of a liability than a help. He checked his pocket watch. He had several other people he had to meet with that night and if he hoped to be back to Peppertongue before anyone realized he was missing, he would have to be quick. He could not afford to be too picky. "I suppose you will do. Come on. Don't dawdle," Scorpius sighed as he walked passed Lysander towards the small house, not even waiting to be invited din.

"W-w-what do you w-w-want, Scorpius?" Lysander finally demanded when they walked in from the cold. "You haven't c-c-contacted us in years. W-w-why now?"

Flopping down on one of the arm chairs by the fire, Scorpius sighed, glancing over at him. "Oh, do calm yourself Scamander. I am not here to antagonize you."

"You d-d-do that naturally."

Scorpius smirked. It seemed that Lysander had developed something of a spine over the last few years. He would have never dared to speak back to him like that had they been back in Hogwarts. "So I am told. No, I am here because you owe me a favor." Lysander looked increasingly uncomfortable as he busied himself with the tea kettle, pouring two cups of tea. Scorpius continued. "Does the name Colette Perkins ring a bell? I want you to put this into the next few issues of the Quibbler," he said, taking a folded piece of paper from his pocket, handing it to Lysander.

"B-b-but..." he sputtered in shock, the tea completely forgotten as he walked towards Scorpius.

"In a few weeks, I will send you a list of names. I will be expecting you and Lorcan to deliver an issue of The Quibbler with this page to every name."

"How many p-p-people?" he asked as he glanced at the paper. He was confused, it was just a Weasley Wizard Wheezes advert. It was the same one they had been running for the last few weeks.

"Not too many. Four, maybe five hundred."

"F-f-five... Malfoy, that is t-t-too much-!"

Standing, Scorpius reached into his coat pocket, bringing out a cloth bag and emptying its contents on the arm chair he had been sitting on. Lysander's eyes widened in awe as a wave of Galleons fell upon the old arm chair. "Five hundred Galleons up front, one thousand once they have been delivered. This should be more than enough to cover the costs...and your silence on the matter."

Lysander walked stiffly towards the money. It was more money than he had seen in a very long time. It was more than the Quibbler made in a year. Reaching out, he grabbed a handful of Galleons. They all looked freshly forged. Letting them fall from his hands, he glanced over at Scorpius.

Scorpius was expecting an accusatory glare or even awestruck wonder, but instead, Lysander looked at him, genuinely worried. "I take it that you are involved in something dangerous, then?" he asked, not a single stutter hindering his words.

Reaching out, Scorpius put a hand on Lysander's shoulder. Lysander did always have a strange habit of worrying for Scorpius's safety even when he was being black mailed. "Aren't I always? Good day, Lysander. Give my regards to your brother." Without another word, Scorpius quietly Apparated from the cottage. Lorcan had mentioned that Scorpius had several people to visit while he was in the country, so Lysander was not too surprised.

Sitting down in his chair, he eyed the Galleons suspiciously for several long moments, half worried they would suddenly turn to dirt. Five hundred Galleons was far too much money to run a single advert in the Quibbler. Glancing at the paper one more time, Lysander suddenly noticed something that had never been on the original.

In the corner of the page there was a strange symbol. Putting on his reading glasses, he moved the picture closer. It looked to be some sort of snake and from its position, it seemed like an Ouroboros. It was so well hidden, Lysander was sure that only someone looking for it would ever see it.

Perhaps, Lysander thought to himself, that was the whole point.

TBC