"Potter…?"
"We've got a Potter?"
"And a Weasley, to top it off…"
"What's going on?"
"His grandson, by God…"
But Lucius Malfoy only grinned – almost snake-like – at the attention drawn from the three first years. Rose tried desperately to reach for Scorpius's hand, hoping he might offer her some form of comfort or vice-versa, but the boy's eyes were locked onto his grandfather's, transfixed on the man he was so terrified of becoming. Rose herself couldn't seem to look the man in the eye – each time she tried, she had the strange sense of a bitter chill in the air, as if he knew what she was thinking, what was really going on.
But he couldn't. They could simply play it off like they had with Andrew. Right?
But that was Andrew. This man was an entirely different animal – cunning, suave, with a sort of formality to every word and movement that you couldn't help but respect and dread. The problem was – you couldn't do both.
Without breaking eye contact from the terrified first years, the silver-haired man called, "Andrew?"
From the side of the stage, a panting Andrew Smelting sprinted onto the stage, his greasy hair shining with sweat. A panicked expression was locked onto his face. "Y-Yes, s-sir? Um – sorry – M-Malfoy?"
"Did you authorize these three?" he asked the trembling teenager.
The boy only nodded, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead.
Malfoy pointed a pale white finger at his grandson. "This one?"
"Y-Yes, sir," Andrew confirmed. "That's Hyperion."
Lucius Malfoy stopped and turned towards the teen, a sheet of ice seemingly covering every person in the room. His cold eyes set upon the young man. "Hyperion?" he repeated, blank of emotion.
Andrew only stared.
"Hyperion?" he said once more, turning back to his grandson. Suddenly, a crooked smile broke onto his face. An almost alien laugh erupted from inside of him, both cruel and taunting. "As in, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy?" The young boy cowered, staring at the ground. His grandfather laughed once more. "If you were going to use an alias, you could've been a bit more original!"
A few audience members joined in the laughter, while the rest of the room remained deadly quiet.
Lucius moved onto the girl next to him. "Rose Weasley," he addressed her. Unlike her partner in crime, Rose did her best to keep her eyes locked onto his, a silent act of defiance. "I'd absolutely love to hear your excuse. Andrew?"
Andrew hesitantly entered the conversation. "Ah – uh, you see, sir – that's – that's Rose Weasley," he stuttered, gesturing to the red-headed girl.
"I know that, Smelting," Malfoy spat. "The real question is – what idiot would let her in? The daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger? The niece of Harry Potter?"
Answering this question caused no problem for the young revolutionary. "Oh no! Sir, it's alright! You see, I thought about that, but it turns out that Granger Girl was never even a mudblood anyway! It was all a sham!"
Lucius Malfoy stared.
Andrew stared back.
"Get this idiot out of my sight," the Death Eater finally commanded, a deadpan expression on his pale face.
Two of the cloaked men from the table stood and came towards Andrew and grabbed his shoulders with their leather-cladded gloves. The teenager struggled to shove them off, but realizing his scrawniness ruined the effort, finally stopped and looked up at Lucius. The man only chuckled.
"Oh, Andrew," he said, shaking his head, "you poor, negligent boy." He nodded to the hooded men. "Take him to the holding cell. Then we will decide what to do with him."
Andrew struggled against the weight of the men pulling him away, putting every bit of his strength in his desperate attempt to break free. With a wild, confused look in his eyes, he yelled out, "Wait – what are you doing? I'm a faithful member – I've always been faithful!"
Lucius shook his head at the disgraceful sight before him. "Sadly, Mr. Smelting, that's not the problem. The real situation is your negligence. I have been recruited to take this organization to the next stage, to make that leap towards a purified race. Our members must be people of stature, people who uphold the core values that make us strong. People like you, however, are not going to get us there." He nodded once more to the men, who continued to drag him away.
"WAIT! WAIT – PLEASE! I'VE BEEN FAITHFUL! I NEVER MEANT TO –"
The golden doors slammed shut, and Andrew Smelting's cries of innocence faded.
"I will not tolerate idiocy," he said to the crowd. "I did not escape Azkaban for nothing, and I intend to accomplish all that I have promised. Your help is appreciated. Anyone who stands in my way, however…" His voice trailed off, the completion of his sentence unnecessary.
There was a long moment of silence before Lucius Malfoy clasped his hands together and faced the black-haired boy in the row behind.
"Mr…Potter."
The boy looked up at the man with two large, green eyes.
"Can I just –?" the man began to ask, but without an answer, he leaned over and flipped the boy's bangs upwards, his eyes scanning the boy's bare forehead. "Excuse me – force of habit. Physically, you are so similar. Mentally…well…you are here, aren't you?"
The boy was silent.
"So what I want to know is why. Why would the son of the man who destroyed the Dark Lord want to attend a blood purity rally?" he asked as if the very question was some sort of astounding observation of the universe.
The boy was silent.
"But you're not your father, aren't you? You're different. Perhaps you've come to question their free-loving practices. Perhaps you've realized how very wrong they've been."
The boy was silent.
"Or does this have something to do with the noble house of Salazar Slytherin? Don't look at me like that – of course, I know. The crest on your sweater did give me a hint as well, I must admit. But I simply cannot fathom…a Potter? In Slytherin? I'm sure your father must be so proud."
Again, the boy was silent.
Albus muttered something under his breath, staring at the ground.
"I'm sorry?" Lucius asked him, cupping his ear.
Swallowing, Albus said, "You're one to talk. Why don't you take a look at your own grandson?"
Lucius Malfoy's expression was unreadable.
"I may be a Slytherin," the boy continued boldly, "but he's a Malfoy in Gryffindor. Before you start laying the shame, why don't you take a look in the mirror?"
"A little spit-fire, aren't you?" he asked the boy, a spark of anger slowly raging into a fire. "Sadly, we don't award blatant stupidity here. You've crossed the wrong man, Potter, and I don't care what your reason is. As for your little cousin, don't think for a moment she had me fooled."
He paced along the edge of the stage, his hands folded behind him. "I have a third theory, you see. It stems from a very reliable inside source. Two of you three – and I'd like to assume which two –" He glanced at Rose and Albus. " – are not simply curious young Hogwarts students. I know who you're working for, and honestly? I'm disappointed. I thought you could sink no lower. Guards!"
Four hooded men appeared from the table and seized the two cousins from behind, clamping their gloved hands tightly onto their shoulders.
"What are we to do with them, sir?" one of the guards asked.
Malfoy thought for a moment. "Keep them safe…for now. We can use them to our advantage. We'll – to coin a phrase – pick their brains on a few subjects." He grinned wickedly. "And who knows what their dear parents are willing to do for their safe return?"
Albus stood silently and still, processing what he had just said. Rose, however, was not wasting a moment. She tried to throw them off with everything she could, kicking and flailing and cursing at the guards with all sorts of colorful words. Scorpius could only watch, feeling more helpless than ever.
Rose cried, her face as red as her hair, "You have to let us go immediately! Or I'm going to call my father, and he is going to come in here with every Auror on staff, and I swear to God –!"
"Rose," Albus told her, quietly and firmly. He had never felt so defeated, so meaningless, in his life.
At the word, Rose became still, her fight simmering.
"As for you, my grandson…" Malfoy began, stepping towards the blonde boy, "…I am about to offer you the chance of a lifetime, and if you have any sense, you're going to accept – do I make myself clear?"
Scorpius only nodded, his mind scattered, panic setting in but doing everything not to show it. The portkey was in Rose's pocket…but with the guards, how would he be able to reach her? They would all need to grab on at the same moment…and what about Albus? What if…?
Lucius Malfoy clapped three times, and all of the sudden, the entire back wall was ignited in red flames. The room became aglow with light, and the men sitting at the table were forced to move due to the excessive heat and danger of burning. On the wall was a distinct symbol shown by the crevices in the structure and multiple shades of the flame. It was a large, ferocious-looking serpent, coiled around an outstretched hand. So oddly familiar, Scorpius thought, but also so incredibly terrifying all the same.
"Do you like it?" Lucius Malfoy asked pleasantly, the flame dancing in his eyes. "It was, of course, inspired by that of the Death Eaters, but with a more refined touch, don't you think?"
He turned back towards his grandson and began his proposition, "I pity you, young Scorpius – living with your traitor-of-a-father for all of these years – but I'm a forgiving man, and I'm willing to offer you a chance."
More fires ignited along the sides of the entire room, revealing the other three walls of the large room. They were almost cave-like, with jugged rocks covered in strange paintings. Looking closer, Rose realized that they weren't simple paintings at all – they were handprints. Red handprints scattering all three walls, almost like burning embers reflected by the flames.
"Pledge your allegiance to our organization now and take your place with me, or –" he said "– you can join your friends." At the strange look on his grandson's face, he added, "Now, Scorpius, I hate to see a Malfoy descendant wasting his full potential on such trivial things when you could be standing beside me, purifying our race for generations to come."
Scorpius looked shell-shocked. "I – I don't know –"
"Oh, come now, Scorpius!" Lucius scoffed. "As much as you may try to hide it, as much as you may try to cover it up with your red and gold, you are a Malfoy. You can run away from it, but you can't hide from it. So join me and stop running."
He walked over to the wooden table and picked up a large glass bowl of strange, red liquid. Taking it in his arms, he walked back towards Scorpius and said, "This is Arigonian Trust Serum. Those who use it are bound for life. Think of it as…an Unbreakable Vow. Liquidized." There were a few distant chuckles, and the man continued, "You have once chance, Scorpius. Take my advice and don't waste it."
Swallowing, Scorpius stared up at the handprints – hundreds of people who had pledged their lives to the "cause" and spent their days in a dark room, planning for the day when they could sculpt a new society, only for those whom they considered elite. As much as he tried to ignore it, it was the summary of his family's entire legacy. His father had always done his best to steer him away from that legacy – to try to undo the seams that had once bound them. And Scorpius wasn't about to throw all of that away.
He was a Malfoy. But he wasn't his grandfather.
His eyes met Rose's. He wished he could tell her that he knew what he was doing, that she should trust him. But somehow…he knew that she would. Winking at her, he nodded decisively. She sent him a confused look back, raising her eyebrows, but he could only stare back. It was a matter or trust. And if he had to trust anyone, he would pick her.
"I'll do it," he told his grandfather finally.
Grinning, Lucius said coolly, "That's my boy. Here." He extended the bowl towards him, and Scorpius knew –
He had to act now.
Scorpius's hand shot upwards, knocking the bowl out his grandfather's hands, the serum spilling all over his linen clothes. Lucius cried out, the liquid burning his skin at the touch. Two hooded men raced onto the stage, grabbing Scorpius by the shoulders. Numerous attendees and members alike raced onto the stage to help their leader, including the guards holding onto Rose and Al.
"Rose – the portkey!" he cried as he was pulled to the ground. "Get out of here!"
With her momentary freedom, Rose grabbed Al by the hand and called to him, "What about you?!"
"Get out of here, Rose!" he shouted once more.
"I'm not going to –!"
Al's voice was small and calm compared to the shouting and screaming that surrounded them. "Rose. We need to go."
Squeezing his cousin's hand tightly, he pulled her away from the scene, racing down the center aisle and out the golden doors. The doors slammed behind them with a loud thud, and their world suddenly became extremely quiet. Pointing his wand to the door, Al muttered, "Colloportus," and the doors sealed shut. Wordlessly, Rose rushed over to the large portrait of Lucius Malfoy, and lifting it off of its hook, threw it to the ground. The frame broke in two, leaving the pale man on the ground, his cold eyes staring up at the ceiling.
Al looked over at her, but Rose couldn't face him. Fuming, fists clenched, Rose took a shuddering breath and wiped away at the burning tears that were forming in her eyes.
"Rose," Al tried, but his cousin only held up her hand, stopping him.
"You shouldn't have come, Al. You. Never. Should've. Come." Her voice quiet and bitter, broken and commanding, all at the same time.
Al only stood there, his hands in his pockets, staring at the marble floor. "We need to get out of here."
"I mean – what were you thinking?" she continued, fiery tears tumbling down her cheeks. "Showing up here? Betraying your family – betraying me? Everything our family's ever done? Every sacrifice? Fred? Tonks? Remus? You're just going to betray them all?" She shook her head. "Scorpius and I came here for a reason, Al. We were trying to help. But you – you're just a lying –"
At that moment, Al took out a long, peach-colored string attached to the inside of his sweater sleeve and handed it to his cousin.
Rose was silent for a moment, not believing what she was seeing.
"This is a long-distance extendable ear."
Al nodded.
"You were recording the whole thing."
Nodding once more, Al told her, "It's connected to an extendable record in my dorm."
He continued, "I was hoping to get the whole thing on record and turn it in to Professor McGonagall, but –" He gave her a half-hearted smile. " – apparently, I wasn't the only spy there."
Rose was at a loss for words. "Al – I'm so – I really never should've –"
"It's okay. I get it."
The two cousins stood there quietly for a moment, a silent apology passing between the two.
"This never should've happened," Rose muttered, pacing back and forth. "If we would've told Scorpius about Lucius escaping – maybe we would've been more prepared, maybe we wouldn't even – I just don't know. I don't know." She put her face in her hands. "We never should've come. That was our first mistake."
Before Al could reply, there was suddenly a loud banging at the door, followed by the shouting of angry voices.
"Grab the portkey and let's get out of here!" Albus told Rose, who scrambled to get a hold of the watch in her pocket.
Rose grabbed hold of Albus's hand, went to touch the face of the clock – but stopped. Looking at her cousin, she asked hopelessly, "What about Scorpius? We can't just leave him here!"
With apologetic eyes, Al whispered in reply, "Rosie, there's nothing we can do for him now. We need to go."
"Reducto!"
Just as the doors burst into splinters, Rose touched the surface of the pocket watch, her hand squeezing Al's, and her world became dark once more.
When she finally came to the familiar surroundings of the headmistress's office, she and Al were met with cries of worry and immediate care. But Rose wouldn't let anyone come near her. She stood in the center of the room, and turned to Draco Malfoy.
"I'm so sorry," she told the man, her voice cracking.
The room was quiet.
"They got him," she said, quiet terror setting in. "They got Scorpius."
Far too quiet.