Dusty words lying under carpets
Seldom heard well you must keep your secrets
Locked inside hidden safe from view
-Talk to Me, Stevie Nicks

Scorpius doesn't know what he expected to find. A room that looked like it came straight out of Knockturn Alley – or, more accurately, what he assumed Knockturn Alley looked like, since his father had expressly forbidden him from setting foot anywhere near the shady parts of Wizarding London – or a real-life version of one of the pictures he'd seen of Azkaban, maybe. He'd imagined that the room where his grandfather wanted him to arrive would resemble something sketchy, with more than a hint of danger.

Instead, he finds himself in a small room with the yellow-painted walls and a tattered carpet stretched over a hardwood floor. There is a set of worn armchairs by a coffee table. Adjacent to them, a cushioned couch facing a fireplace.

A fireplace. Of course. Floo Powder.

He lets out a sigh of relief. Lucius isn't planning to meet him in person, thank Merlin, but through a fireplace, where there can be distance between them. He doesn't know why that simple fact eases so much of the tension within him, but it does.

Suddenly, almost as though it could follow his train of thought, the fireplace flares to life.

Rose stares at the space Scorpius has left behind at the table.

Noelle repeats Scorpius's excuse incredulously. "Pepper-up Potion? You don't buy that for a second, do you?"

Rose shrugs, stalling while she searches for the words to say. It's me. He's probably realized that I am pathetic and— Stop. Don't think like this, Rose. You are not pathetic. You are worth it. You are worth it. You are worth it.

She realizes that Noelle is still waiting for her to say something, so she pauses in her mental repetition of the mantra Healer Goldstein had tried to drill in to her – you are worth it you are worth it – and says, "I don't know."

"Well," Noelle hedges, "Do you want to find out?"

And somehow Rose finds herself following Noelle through the Great Hall's heavy wooden doors and down the corridor to the hospital wing.

The first thing Scorpius notices about his grandfather is that he is old.

Logically, he knows that his grandfather has to be old – at least twenty-some years older than his father, who isn't exactly young – but Lucius is nearly bald, left only with a ring of hair that's surpassed gray and gone straight to white. His face bears lines that make his skin sag and he's squinting, as though his eyesight is beginning to fail him, and yet Scorpius can't help but notice that despite the distinct marks of age Lucius looks startlingly like his father.

Startlingly like him.

"You got my message," Lucius says finally, and Scorpius can't help but notice that his voice carries the same drawling accent has his father's.

Stop it, Scor. This man is nothing like your father.

"Yeah," Scorpius says as coolly as he can manage. It's difficult enough to prevent his voice from shaking, much less to sound like someone Lucius might think was worthy of the Malfoy name.

He doesn't know why he's suddenly taken to regarding Lucius as someone he needs to impress.

This man hurt countless innocent people. He's part of the reason your family is so infamous. You don't care about his opinion.

Scorpius takes a breath, feeling his hands clench into fists at his side.

"So," he says, letting his voice take on the drawling tone he's always heard from his father, an accent he's associated with love and affection for seventeen years, and turning it into a menacing tenor, a weapon, "What do you want?"

"Hi, Madam Pomfrey," Noelle smiles, her voice melting like sugar over a stove, all sweet and innocent-like.

Rose blinks. When did she start thinking in food metaphors?

"Good evening, Miss Shacklebolt," Madam Pomfrey replies, setting aside a pile of bandages she'd been sorting through. "What can I do for you today?"

"Have you seen Scorpius come through here recently?"

Madam Pomfrey shakes her head. "No, I can't say that I have. Is everything all right?"

"Oh," Noelle says, "Absolutely. Just trying to figure out where he might be," she pauses, playing on her charisma to draw in Madam Pomfrey's attention, "We have a gobstones tournament set up. Loser has to buy the winner a free drink at the Three Broomsticks. Anyway, he was complaining about a headache earlier and I just wanted to make sure he wasn't ill. Anyway, have a nice evening!"

Noelle pauses again and gestures for Rose to follow her out the door, simultaneously calling over her shoulder, "If you do see him, tell him I'm going to destroy him at gobstones, alright?"

"I just want to talk," Lucius says, and Scorpius imagines him spreading his hands, palm up, like his dad sometimes does in a show of transparency.

He believes his dad. He's not so share he'd judge Lucius by the same standards.

Either way, he can't get much of a read for body language off of his grandfather's disembodied head in the fireplace.

"Okay," Scorpius says. "So talk."

He thinks he sees the hint of a smile pass across Lucius's face. "You remind me so much of your father."

"He doesn't want me to speak to you."

For a moment, Scorpius wonders whether he's said too much, but Lucius just nods. "So I gathered. He's told me as much in our conversation."

"He's talked to you?"

"Regular visits in Azkaban every few months." Lucius seems to notice the effect this has had on Scorpius, because he smirks, an expression Scorpius has seen in the mirror so many times it's a bit surreal seeing it on someone else's face, "What, you didn't know?"

"Well," Scorpius stalls, trying to recover the upper hand, "I had no interest in seeing you, so I don't know why it would have come up."

"And yet," Lucius says, dragging his words out, "You're here now."

Scorpius doesn't respond.

Outside the hospital wing, Noelle turns to Rose. "So he lied."

"I'm sure there's a good reason for it."

Okay, so maybe she doesn't really have anything to base that statement on, but he's always been nice to her, and he doesn't seem like the lying type.

Nice people can lie, Rose.

"No," Noelle says, "It's just… there's been something weird with him recently. I don't know how to explain it. There's something…" she hesitates, letting her sentence trail off. "He got this letter from his aunt a few days ago, and ever since he's been sort of distant and… I don't know. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. It's not like you care."

Rose considers that. "I don't not care," she offers.

Noelle looks at her. "I'm worried about him."

"Listen," Lucius says, "I have business to attend to soon. But I really would like to get to know you better. I feel as though I've missed out on seeing you grow up."

"Yeah, well, getting thrown in Azkaban will tend to do that to a person." The sentence is already out of his mouth before he can reconsider how rude his words are, but Lucius just smirks again.

"You really are so much like Draco," he muses. Then his voice becomes serious again. "I'll send you an owl with another time to meet," Lucius says.

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then don't come," Lucius says. "No one is forcing you to do anything," he pauses. "But I would be disappointed."

A/N: Again, sorry about the late update. But hey, here's this. So… how do y'all feel about Lucius?