A/N: Nothing belongs to me!
Chapter Ten
Scorpius
Scorpius often felt out of place. It came from being the heir to one of the most defamed names in Wizarding history, and also just from being a generally awkward sort of bloke. He'd grown up all his life feeling like a burden - on his father after the death of his mother, on his friends, on society in general. It was why he strove to just blend into the background wherever possible.
None of this compared, however, with how out of place he felt among the Potters and the Weasleys in the hallway of the private ward of St. Mungos where Hermione Granger-Weasley and Harry Potter were being cared for.
After Lily Potter had shown up at the art gallery, things had moved rather quickly, and Scorpius unintentionally felt himself being shuffled along in the mix. When they'd apparated from the gallery warehouse to the visitor's entrance of St. Mungo's, he'd made to turn back and go home, but one look at Albus' shock-stricken face had silenced any protest he'd had. When they'd been ushered along a long hall by the medi-witch who'd intercepted them at the information desk, he'd wondered if he stood out at all - white blond in the mix of offspring that were very clearly Weasleys and Potters. To his utter surprise, nobody had questioned his presence. Perhaps nobody had noticed.
They'd been rushed to the private ward, but none of their party had been allowed into the rooms where the patients were being treated. They had no real information except what Lily'd overheard and relayed for them over and over again; that there had been an attack on the Ministry out of hours, and that Harry Potter and the Minister had been caught up in it. Other than the very nervous looking young medi-witch who'd shown them to the ward and offered them all cups of tea, they hadn't seen anybody else in the several hours they'd been waiting.
It must have been late now, he thought, checking his wristwatch for the time. It was now gone ten. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he'd forgotten to eat dinner before the exhibition.
Scorpius adjusted himself in the hard hospital chair, wondering how he'd managed to avoid the hospital for years, and somehow was now here twice in one week. This area of the building was much nicer than the one Bert was in - or his mother had been, for that matter. It was set aside from the public eye, for one thing, and there were the illusions of windows along the wall, though Scorpius doubted very much that they showed the true outside sky. For one thing, you could see stars twinkling through the dark night here - outside, the Central London smog would be too thick. Still, it created a nice effect. He supposed something good came from being the most famous Wizarding family in England.
He glanced around the hallway, where his companions were in various states of disarray. Lily had finally ceased crying about an hour ago, and was now sleeping on Albus' shoulder, her face puffy and pink as Albus stroked her hair tenderly. Scorpius looked away from this, allowing his best mate a private moment with his little sister. Hugo had paced around for ages when they'd arrived, but was now sitting on the floor of the corridor, drumming his fingers absently on the wall behind him with nervous energy as he stared in the opposite direction. Somebody had thought to owl James, who had been out with mates and half drunk by the time they'd found him, and was now nursing what looked to be coffee laced with something like firewhiskey. And Rose - Rose hadn't said a word since she'd learned about her mother and uncle, and was staring blankly ahead with no expression whatsoever, as if she'd been Kissed by a dementor and there was nothing of her left. For a girl who usually sparked with life and vivacity, it was rather terrifying to see her so seemingly empty.
The silence seemed to stretch on for ages.
"Think I'll go make another round of tea," Scorpius muttered aloud, when he couldn't bear the stifling quiet anymore. He rose from his chair, meeting Albus' eyes. His friend smiled half a smile at him, and suddenly Scorpius didn't feel quite so awkward about being there anymore. If Al needed him, he would stay.
He was just about to head towards the double door on the end of the hallway when a tall ginger man burst through it.
"Where are they?" Ron Weasley demanded, startling the medi-witch who was quietly doing paperwork at the desk beside them. She blanched, getting to her feet and holding her wand aloft, as if she would be able to temper the frustration of the very angry, very powerful Auror.
"Mr. Weasley," she said, attempting a weak smile, "I cannot allow you enter the ward until you've calmed down-"
"Calm down?!" The man bellowed, and Scorpius quickly returned to his seat beside Albus, afraid to get in the way of his swinging limbs. "I get some vague notice while on my mission that my wife and my best mate have been attacked, and you want me to…"
"Ronald." A stern voice came from the doorway of the ward. Ginny Potter had emerged from the operating room wearing sanitary hospital robes over her usual clothing, her long thick red hair pulled back from her face in a haphazard ponytail. Her face was white, but her mouth was set in a thin line as she stared at her brother. If she was surprised to see that they had other company in the hallway, she didn't show it. Scorpius supposed the medi-witch must have informed her that her children had arrived hours ago.
"Gin," he said, coming to her. "Ginny, what happened?"
Albus' mother slowly looked around at them, all sat up and alert for the first time in hours. Ron started, and stared around at them as if noticing his children and niece and nephews for the first time. His bright blue eyes rested on Scorpius for a moment, before moving back to his sister.
"Perhaps we should talk elsewhere," Mrs. Potter sighed.
"Mum!" Lily exclaimed, awake now and rising to her feet. "We have just as much right to know as well." Her eyes glistened once more, one solitary tear rolling slowly down her cheek. "Please," she begged, "he's our dad."
It was rather impressive, Scorpius thought, that Mrs. Potter was able to hold herself together at that. Her eyes had gone glassy, but she remained upright and strong. Scorpius was reminded, suddenly, that his friends' parents had been war heroes.
"All right," she relented, glancing around at them. James quickly vacated his seat, leading his mother to it, where she collapsed into the chair gratefully. Ron sank down between his sister and Rose, who took her father's hand. When she looked up, Mrs. Potter locked eyes with her brother.
"Harry was working late on the case again, he'd flooed to say he would be home around half eight. Hermione - I assume she was late home for the same reason." Her brother nodded, sighing. Ginny continued. "They must have left the building, popped around the corner for a coffee or something, I don't know, but the floo in the Atrium shows that they'd both used the visitors exits. They were ambushed."
Scorpius watched as the older man sucked in a breath. Across from him, Lily has started silently crying again.
"And the diagnosis?" Mr. Weasley asked, still in full Auror mode.
Ginny shook her head slowly. "Complete memory loss..." she confirmed. "...of anything having to do with the magical world. As far as they know, they have no memories beyond what they had when they received their Hogwarts letters."
"So they don't remember us at all?" It was Rose who spoke now, her voice hoarse from lack of use.
Ginny trained her gaze on her niece. "No, darling," she said, "I'm so sorry."
Mr. Weasley had shut his eyes, wincing against the obvious pain of the situation. "I want to see them," he demanded quietly.
"Ron," his sister warned.
"My best mate and my wife are in there," he replied, his voice hard and cold, "I want to see them, I need to know whether this can be reversed."
Scorpius had never known Albus' mum to look so livid. "They're my husband and sister, as well." She spat. "The healers have asked us to stay in the corridor now, as they're running highly complex tests. Don't presume you're the only one this is incredibly difficult for, Ronald." Her voice, so strong and clear, cracked at the end, and she took a shuddering breath. James grabbed his mother's hand quickly, and she squeezed it so tightly her knuckles went white.
Ron blanched, clearly shaken at seeing his sister upset. "I'm sorry, Gin," he said, softly now. "I just - my wife… How am I supposed to…? She doesn't remember me anymore."
Ginny's face softened, and she grabbed her brother's hand as well. They sat there, linked and silent, joined in their immense sorrow.
Sensing that he was definitely now invading a private family moment, Scorpius quickly and quietly made his way out of the private ward. He was surprised, however to see Albus follow behind him, shutting the heavy door gently.
"I'm… erm… I'm so sorry, mate," Scorpius tried, wincing apologetically at his best friend, unsure of what to say. "Your dad, that's… just…"
"Absolute fucking bollocks, is what it is," Al spat, twisting his hands with rage. Of all the emotions his friend could have come out with, this shocked Scorpius the least. Albus had always had issues with displaying sadness of any kind. It was why he and his father clashed so often during Al's childhood - miserable stoic sods, they both were. Anger was simpler for them.
"Yeah," Scorpius said, allowing his friend this one emotional reprieve, "it is."
"Whichever bastard is doing all this…" Al trailed off ominously, cracking his knuckles. "I swear to Merlin, if I find out who's done this, I'll make them pay." Scorpius just nodded along silently.
"Fuck," Al said, turning on his heel swiftly and punching the wall behind himself. The bones in his wrist made a sickening cracking sound, and he hissed, and tears immediately springing to his eyes. The two boys stared at Al's limp broken hand for a moment while Albus struggled to get himself under control.
"Episkey," Scorpius finally muttered, pointing his wand at the useless appendage so that it mended itself before their eyes. When Al had regained the use of his hand, Scorpius clapped him on the back gently. "Let's go and get that tea," he said quietly, ushering his friend down the hall.
The Auror department still hadn't informed him whether or not his job site was safe to return to. In light of recent events, he hardly thought it was top on their list of priorities, what with the department head stuck in the hospital with his memory wiped, but it still would have been nice to know.
Albus hadn't returned home since the incident, instead opting to stay in his childhood bedroom at his family's place. Scorpius hadn't really expected him to return - he'd been quite adamant about staying with his mum, and Merlin knew he was worried about how Lily was coping with the whole thing. Scorpius couldn't help but feeling though, guiltily, that it was a little lonely spending time by himself in their shared flat.
It would be easier, he thought, if he had somewhere to go or something to do. As it was, he'd tidied his bedroom, cleaned all the dishes in the sink the Muggle way (his grandmother would have had a conniption if she'd seen him washing up by hand), organised his bookshelf by alphabetical order, and re-read two of his old school textbooks just out of boredom. It was only after he'd finished Hogwarts: A Revised History that he remembered that he'd nicked that rune book off of Bert's workstation.
At least that would feel as if he were doing something productive, he mused. The rune book had been sent to his department with a load of artefacts from a recent curse breaker's excavation in America last month, and he'd been putting off the translation due to the complexity of the work. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, and as they'd sent it over for the British Ministry's inspection, he suspected it had also gone through MACUSA's channels with no real results. Though amidst his other workload, he'd been more than happy to pass this case on to Aubrey, Scorpius' spine now tingled at the thrill of an unsolvable case. It was why he'd become a rune translator in the first place.
Runes from Stateside were largely based in Native American language, of which Scorpius was proficient, but no expert. The underlying issue was that each tribe had their own language, and therefore their own runic alphabet. They had their similarities - if you knew one fluently, you could make some good guesswork regarding the others - it worked similarly to the principle of the Romance languages based upon Latin roots. However, this book was complicated beyond anything he'd seen before, seemingly weaving various tribal runes in amongst others, with no discernable pattern. Scorpius even saw some Latin-based runes included in the mix. These, he translated easily, but they were few and far between.
He flipped through the book, marveling at the symbols. It made no sense - he'd say it was like Greek to him, but Scorpius was fluent in Greek.
His fingers found again the strange crescent moon symbols carved into the leather binding of the book. It wasn't unusual to find books marked this way - ancient tribes would often inscribe their own symbols into treasured artefacts. His fingers traced the roughed leather, pausing when his fingertips found the indented markings.
Curiously, the leather felt fresh. The carved markings were untarnished by the years - it almost seemed as if these markings had been recently carved. Even spells to preserve the bindings would have begun to wear off after several hundreds of years, showing the age of the object. The rest of the book certainly looked ancient enough.
That was odd.
Slowly, he flipped through the pages of the tome, looking not for the confusing ancient symbols he'd been puzzling over previously, but for something - anything - that may have been penned within the last century.
He was ready to give up, after about sixty-odd pages of looking, when he saw something that gave him pause. It was so minuscule - if he hadn't been looking for it, he may have missed it entirely. On the bottom of page sixty-eight, there was a tiny inked-in crescent moon.
He stared at the page, though the runes here were no clearer to him than on the rest of the pages.
Searching, desperately, for something to hold onto, he cast various desciphering spells, though the page remained stubbornly unchanged. Finally, he cast a feeble "revelio" charm, without much hope.
Suddenly, as if it were being penned before his eyes, words spread across the page. Scorpius had to blink in the low light of what had now turned into dusk to see the single sentence that formed. The words looked rushed, as if somebody had scribbled them without much time to spare.
These unspeakable horrors will test the fate of Wizardkind, it said.
Scorpius was surprised to realize he had seen this handwriting many times before, in old journals, research reports, and the like. He had never thought much of it before, but the spiky inked letters now made his blood run cold.
It was Bertram Aubrey's handwriting.
A/N: I know, I know! No Rose/Scorp interaction AND another cliffhanger! Whatever will you do with me?! :)
Next chapter coming soon and I promise it'll have a little bit of R/S in it. Reviews make it come faster!
-MD