James
She was gone. Gone. Completely and totally gone. Girlfriends, aye? You take your eyes off them for two seconds and they get kidnapped by dark homicidal wizards.
We had tried everything. Unlocking spells, tunneling spells, banishing spells, I'd even used Reducto for good measure, all to no avail. At last we were reduced to slamming our hands wildly against the suddenly unbreakable glass. Nothing worked.
The lock came undone the moment Vera and her brother had disappeared. The click was nonchalant, almost mocking. If it had been alive, I would have killed it. I burst into the conjoining carriage with the two aurors close behind me. Wind roared through the openings in the walls, pulling forcefully at my hair and robes. I didn't know exactly what I was looking for as my eyes scanned the small space. Perhaps a hint or a clue as to where they had taken her. None was forthcoming however. I rounded on the two aurors.
"What do we do?" I demanded of the female one whose name I knew to be Calliope from my father's business dinners.
"We'll have to contact your father and let him know what's happened." She said calmly. How the hell could she be so calm? Two people had just been kidnapped by shadows for Merlin's sake!
"And?" I prompted.
"And…what?" Asked the man whose name I knew to be Daedalus.
"Aren't we going to go after them? I have a broomstick, I'm sure someone would be willing to lend you two some."
Calliope looked pityingly at me. "I'm sorry, James. But it's not within my authority to do that. I have to get clearance from your father first."
I let out a noise of frustration. "So you're just going to let them get away?"
She placed a hand on my shoulder. I suppose she was trying to comfort me but it wasn't working. "We have to. It's too late to launch a pursuit now anyway. They're probably miles away by now."
I opened my mouth to argue but someone began speaking behind me before I could get a word out.
"What's going on here?" Asked a bewildered looking Rose. Her eyes took in the gaping holes in the sides of the train and the surrounding crowd. "Where's Scorpius?" She still wore her school robes and Head Girl badge, apparently having just finished her rounds.
Al and I exchanged a look. He chose to explain.
"Er, Rose…Scorpius is gone. So is Vera."
"Where have they gone?" She asked slowly. Al and I exchanged another look.
"We don't know exactly." I replied gently. I quickly explained what had happened.
"But…I…we have to go after them!" She decided, her voice shaking.
"We can't." Explained Calliope again. "We'll have to go back to the Ministry and request back up."
"Why are you still standing here then? Get going!" Rose commanded, adopting her Head Girl voice. The aurors exchanged a glance.
"Rose," Calliope said carefully, "You know we can't apparate onto or off of a moving vehicle."
"Of course you can. They did!" Rose replied, gesturing to the punctures in the sides of the train.
"They didn't apparate! They…they bloody flew in." Said Vera's friend (I want to say her name was Jenine) hysterically.
"But…" Rose seemed to be trying as hard as I was to come up with excuses. "Well whose brilliant idea was it to take them on the train anyway?" She demanded. "Couldn't someone have apparated them straight to Grimauld Place?"
"Can you apparate from the Scottish highlands all the way to London? Because I sure as hell can't." Said Daedalus defensively.
"Well…you could have used the floo network." Rose offered.
"We don't know what this Prince bloke is capable of. He broke into the Hogwarts grounds. How do we know he can't redirect the floo network? That's how he got his hands on Marshall Davis." Calliope shook her head.
"What about a portkey?"
"We couldn't take a portkey straight to Grimauld Place. The closest we could get would be in the courtyard outside and even that would be too exposed." Daedalus seemed to be losing his tempre now.
"But…but…well I still think you could have come up with something safer than the Hogwarts Express." Rose said exasperatedly.
"I don't see how." Calliope said coolly. "It's a crowded, enclosed space. Not exactly the ideal setting for a kidnapping. We checked every inch of the train before departure for any stowaways. It's not accessible by apparition. We all know it's physically impossible to apparate onto a moving vehicle, because the location you have in mind is in a different place with every passing second. We can't have known that they would be able to fly!"
For what I imagined was the first time in her life, Rose looked absolutely stumped.
"Well...fuck." She replied at last. I nodded, wholeheartedly sharing her sentiments.
"We're wasting time." I said calmly, marching back into the main part of the train and closing the door behind me to shut out the roaring of the wind. I then raised my wand, concentrated on the memory of Vera and I in the Room of Requirement the night before the match against Ravenclaw and shouted,
"Expecto Patronum!"
An enormous lion bounded from the end of my wand and came to attention in front of me.
"Tell dad: Vera and Malfoy have been kidnapped by two unidentified people. Don't worry about meeting us at the platform. We'll apparate to the Ministry as soon as possible. Go!"
The lion charged out of sight.
"And now we wait." Said Rose.
"And now we wait." I agreed.
The rest of the train ride was excruciating. I couldn't stop myself from wondering where Vera was now. Was she hurt? Was she scared? Was she still…alive?
Al did his best to distract me from these dark thoughts, but I knew he was wondering the same thing. In hindsight, I'm not sure how I managed to make it all the way to London without my head combusting. I drank several cups of blistering tea, took a few discreet shots of firewhiskey from the refilling flask perpetually hidden in my rucksack for…medicinal purposes, and even suspected Al of casting a few nonverbal calming charms on me.
At last the conductor announced our arrival at King's Cross Station. Daedalus, Calliope, Rose, Al, and I apparated to the Ministry the second the train came to a complete stop. Lily agreed, grudgingly at first, to transport our luggage to Grimauld Place and tell mum where we'd gone.
The auror office was bustling with activity when we entered it with silver visitor's badges weighing down the fronts of our robes. We proceeded directly to the conference room where, sure enough, we found my dad leaning over the long table, examining several sheets of paper and speaking to several of his surrounding colleagues. I immediately recognised all of their faces: Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron, Seamus Finnegan and my godbrother, Teddy.
My dad looked up when we entered. I instantly felt some of the tension leave my shoulders when I caught sight of him. My dad had this skill of appearing perfectly serene whilst in the middle of a crisis. It was an attitude I had often attempted to duplicate. I imagined this skill was one you instinctively adopted after fighting dark wizards since the age of one.
He looked up when we entered, his glasses flashing underneath the fluorescent lighting.
"Dad." I breathed in relief.
"Rosie!" Exclaimed my Uncle Ron from beside my dad. He rushed forward and enveloped his daughter in his arms. Aunt Hermione followed his lead.
"Thank Merlin you're safe." Sighed Hermione.
Dad nodded in agreement. After appraising Al and I for any injuries, he motioned for us to be seated at the table. We did so, with Rose, Calliope, and Daedalus right behind us.
"I need the five of you to tell me exactly what happened."
Calliope, with the help of Al, Daedalus and me, relayed the story to Dad. He nodded slowly when she was done.
"I see. And why, Calliope, were Vera and Scorpius left alone? I believe I gave you two specific instructions not allow them out of your sight." He did not sound angry. Rather, his voice was filled with a sort of cold disappointment. The two aurors looked properly ashamed.
"They never were out of our sight, sir. They couldn't have been more than ten feet away when it happened." Daedalus offered half-heartedly.
"I see." My dad said slowly. "Well we will discuss this later. Back to work."
They nodded, stood, and disappeared out the door.
"So have you heard anything?" I demanded the moment they were out of sight.
My dad exchanged looks with Ron, Hermione, Teddy, and Seamus.
"Nothing conclusive yet." He replied.
"So you have heard something then?" Rose inferred.
Aunt Hermione hesitated before answering. "James' news of the Malfoy children's kidnap came in at the same time as the news of several murders throughout the country. Our preliminary reports show that a phrase was found at each location. When put together, these phrases seemed to make up a poem – a message. We don't yet know what order they go in or what they mean. The message is…ambiguous to say the least. Our field analysts are attempting to decipher it as we speak."
"Maybe I can help." Rose offered.
"I wish you could, sweetheart, but you don't have clearance to see the evidence." Aunt Hermione said. Rose crossed her arms petulantly,
"And where would I get this clearance?"
"From the Head of the Auror Office." Said Hermione. Three pairs of Weasley eyes turned toward my dad. He gazed directly at his niece before saying,
"You have my permission to participate in this case."
"Er, Harry," Uncle Ron cut in. "I'm not sure I want her involved…"
"I don't want it either, Ron. But like it or not she already is involved. We might as well not endanger her further by keeping her ignorant." Then he turned to Al and me. "I don't want you two in danger either, but as you are both very close to Vera, I think your involvement in this case may also be inevitable." We both nodded eagerly. "But I do have conditions." Rose, Al, and I waited for him to continue. "Since you are now working with the auror office, you are under the jurisdiction of the leadership of said office. That means you must do what we tell you, even if you don't like what you're being told to do. Got it?"
"Got it."
"Agreed."
"Yes, sir." The three of us chorused.
"Excellent. Since there is no further business at the moment I would advise the three of you to head home. Rose, James, you have your graduation party tomorrow after all. You should rest up. We will let you know the moment we figure anything out."
Al stood. "Might as well. I'm pretty tired. And mum will want to know what's going on."
"Thanks, Al."
I coughed slightly. "Er, Dad…could I stay? I promise I won't get in the way. It would just make me feel better to be here."
My dad cast me one of his calculating, auror looks while Rose piped up,
"Me as well?"
"Fine." He agreed.
"One last thing," Rose spoke quickly, seeming to sense she was pushing her luck. "Could I possibly have permission to search the public records office?"
"Why?" Ron asked suspiciously. She shrugged, the picture of nonchalance.
"To peruse. On the off chance I find something useful."
"Alright. Permission granted." Dad confirmed before gathering the papers from the table and exiting. Rose's hand glowed green for a moment, and I figured it was likely representative of a charm that would allow Rose entrance to the public records. Dad's colleagues followed him and Al out the door and headed off in different directions to get back to work. Ron and Hermione left to escort Rose to her destination, while I followed my dad through the maze of cubicles to his office. He set his files on a grand, mahogany desk and sat in an equally grand, black, leather office chair. I knocked lightly on the still open door. He looked up and cast me a knowing, half-hearted smile.
"Dad, can I talk to you?" I asked tentatively. My dad looked at me steadily before nodding. He motioned for me to take the chair opposite his desk. Once I had gained my seat, I struggled to find a way to phrase my question. "What…what do you think the chances are that she's still…you know…"
"Alive?" He finished. I nodded solemnly. He sighed heavily. "I'm going to be honest with you, son. I really don't know. Our evidence of all the past murder scenes shows that the Prince often held his captives in their homes for days, sometimes even weeks before he killed them. I'm not sure how he got away with it without arousing suspicion, but he's doing a lot of things I can't even begin to fathom. All of the bodies thus far show evidence of long-term magical abuse. I suspect he tortures them to the point of human endurance – waits until they are literally begging for death – before he finally kills them. In my professional opinion, she is probably still alive, but I can promise you she isn't comfortable."
I was silent while I considered this. "But why would he do that? It doesn't make sense for him to risk exposure so daringly by taking over his victim's houses and not killing them immediately."
"Taking over their houses…" My father repeated thoughtfully.
"What?"
"Nothing. And I can't pretend to make sense of the criminal mind, James. Sometimes it's a lot more complex than us law enforcers would like to believe. But I think to understand his actions we must look at his motivation: revenge. I do not think a man such as the Prince would be satisfied with simply taking the lives of those he hates. For whatever reason that he is attempting this genocide…it seems as though he gains great pleasure from it. Like this is simply a game to him and we are all his pawns. I think he truly wants them to suffer for their actions. Have you noticed his targets haven't been the old Death Eaters themselves, but their descendents? I foresee that he will first torture and murder the ones they care for most before he finally goes after them. He doesn't just want to kill the Death Eaters, he wants them to feel as much agony, emotionally and physically, as humanly possible."
The expression in his eyes showed me that there was something he was holding back. My curiosity drove me forward. "But who is he then? I know plenty of people who hate the old pureblood families, and often for good reason. But why would he go to such lengths to punish them? What did they do to him specifically?"
"I have my suspicions. Unfortunately they are just that – suspicions."
"I'd appreciate if you shared them with me…" I said tentatively. My dad stared straight into my eyes, apparently battling with something inside of himself.
"I'm not sure if what I'm thinking of is even relevant to the case."
"Please Dad." I pleaded. "I just want to know. Being armed with all the possible information will make me feel loads better. It will help me handle this situation."
My father gazed at me speculatively before saying at last,
"Okay, I'll tell you. But you are not to share my suspicions with anyone."
"Of course." I replied quickly.
"Alright…so I've told you the story of my adventures with Ron and Hermione many times." I nodded slowly. "But there are some things I've left out – for good reason. When I was sixteen, I was taking all the courses required to be an auror, including potions. My teacher, Professor Slughorn, lent me an old textbook. It was dirty and dog-eared, but it had previously belonged to a highly intelligent, highly talented potions student from generations past. When I examined the book, I found only the words, This is the property of the Half-Blood Prince."
He paused to let this sink in.
"So you think it's the same person?" I asked eagerly. Dad shook his head wearily.
"Impossible. The original Half-Blood Prince is dead. I watched him die. And to my knowledge he never had any children."
"Who…who was it?"
"Severus Snape."
"Snape? You mean – "
"Yes. The man Albus is named after. Except I didn't find this out until months after I'd been using the book. But it wasn't just an ordinary textbook. He had written things all over it. Hints and shortcuts for potions. With his help I quickly rose to the top of my class. But potions weren't the only things he wrote about. He also scribbled out spells – curses he had invented himself. Once, when I was flipping through it, I came across a spell he had written in the margins – a spell that looked as though the invention had given him quite a bit of grief.
"I forgot about it after a while, but then there was a night, near the end of my sixth year, when I ducked into the bathroom just before dinner. In there, I found Draco Malfoy. He had his back to me and was sobbing while he spoke to Moaning Myrtle. I tried to duck out silently but he caught sight of me in the mirror and starting firing illegal curses and hexes at me. It was then that that spell popped into my head. Sectumsempra, it was called. I didn't have any idea what it would do, but I used it anyway, to horrifying results. The spell was intended to slice open certain key parts of the victim's body and allow them to bleed to death. It was dark magic. Very dark magic. Snape arrived just in time to save him from death or serious scarring, but I've never forgotten what the spell did. Not to mention where I'd found the spell. I hid the book in the Room of Requirement and never went back for it. I fear, however, that I may not have been the last person to ever see it."
"So you think…that this Prince bloke found it and is using some of the spells from it?"
"Yes. He is using magic we have never seen before. Dark magic. And I think he may have learned some of it from Severus Snape."
"But Snape was a good man. You said so yourself. You named your son after him for Merlin's sake!" I protested.
"Snape was a good man. He saved my life time and time again. But he wasn't always a good man, James. He was a double agent remember? While he was at Hogwarts he hung around with a group of Slytherins, almost all of whom became Death Eaters. He only came over to our side after…after my parents died. My mother…he and my mother were very close. He loved her very dearly, and when she was gone, he did everything he could to make amends; to protect her son."
I gaped at my father. "Snape was in love with Grandma?"
My father nodded solemnly and we both lapsed into silence. It was several minutes before he spoke again.
"Unfortunately, if I am correct in assuming that the Prince stole his title from Professor Snape, that does not reveal much of his identity. All we can guess from that information is that he was at Hogwarts between the time I hid the book in the Room of Requirement and the time Vincent Crabbe burnt it down during the Battle of Hogwarts. That still leaves several hundred possible suspects. We can't even be sure he was a student at the time. He could have been a teacher, or a volunteer who showed up to fight Voldemort. I do, however, think we can rule out that he was a death eater."
I nodded thoughtfully, trying to organise all this new information in my mind.
Ten minutes later found me at the door to the Ministry Record Hall. I pulled open one of the tall, double doors and was met immediately by a silvery portal expanding across the entire doorway. The surface rippled like water as I placed my hand through it. A moment later, my hand glowed green and I was permitted to enter the Hall.
The room was filled with towering bookshelves containing bulky reference books and never-ending filing cabinets holding records regarding hundreds of generations of wizards. I passed a few aisles of bookshelves, glancing into each of them for some sight of Rose. I found her at the end of aisle 42, digging through a cabinet filled with old Daily Prophets. I strolled down the aisle and took a seat beside where she knelt.
"Hey." I greeted.
"Hey." She replied distractedly. There was a beat of silence.
"So…find anything interesting?" I asked conversationally.
"Not yet." She seemed rather annoyed by my presence, probably because it broke her concentration. I remember once when we were nine, she threw a heavy book at me for popping into her bedroom just as she completed an extremely complex Ancient Rune translation. No, Rose Weasley did not like to be disturbed. I didn't really care at the moment, however. I was too busy worrying about more important things than potentially irritating my cousin. I sighed,
"It'd be a miracle if we found anything in here that would help us rescue Vera."
"And Scorpius." Rose added.
My shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug. "Eh. They can keep him." My tone was joking – conversational really – but it managed to break Rose from her reverie like none of my other comments had.
"You don't know Scorpius well do you?" Her voice was thoughtful.
I shrugged again. "I know everything I need to about him."
"Have you ever spoken to him?" She pressed.
"Of course I have!" I replied stubbornly.
She rolled her eyes. "I mean really spoken to him. Had a legitimate conversation."
"Oh yes he and I meet up every weekend to read Witch Weekly and talk about our feelings." I said sarcastically.
"Oh you're bloody impossible." She muttered irritably. "I hated him my first few years at Hogwarts too, but that was mostly because I was so caught up with who he was that I didn't even give him a chance to be anything else. Then one day, when we were stuck together, I finally listened. Do you know what happened?"
"What?" I humoured her.
"I fell in love with him."
She said it so blatantly, so shamelessly that I was momentarily caught off guard. When I recovered, I shook my head solemnly at her,
"I know you think that Rose. But you wouldn't say that if you knew about some of the things he's done."
She stared directly into my eyes. "I do know. He told me everything."
I raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her. "Really? Everything? Including the Quidditch World Cup?"
"Yes." Once again I was taken aback by her fiery, confident attitude. I shook myself free.
"Well I imagine he twisted the details to make himself seem quite heroic."
"No. He told me exactly what happened. Which is more than I can say about you." Her tone was cold when she finished. I bypassed her jab and went for the attack.
"And you're still in love with him?"
"Yes." Once again her voice was firm, confident.
"Then you aren't the person I thought you were, Rose." The cutting edge to my tone surprised even me. She flinched only slightly before plowing on.
"Do you want to hear his side of the story?"
"Nope." There was no hint of uncertainty to my comment.
"Well just shut up because I'm going to tell you anyway." My curiosity kept me from making a cantankerous retort. Rose waited to make sure I wasn't going to interrupt before beginning the story. "Just after the match, the older kids approached him and invited him to go on an 'excursion' with them later. They made it out to be a hazing ceremony of sorts so he agreed. Later that night, once he found out what they were planning, he tried to back out. But they told him that if he didn't go with them, they would take Vera in place of the muggle girl." She nodded knowingly at my sharp intake of breath. "After you attacked them and they started…torturing you, he picked up the branch you'd dropped and took out the Carrows. Noel Rookwood was about to curse him too when Teddy showed up and stupefied her. Teddy told Scorpius to go back to his campsite and never tell anyone what happened."
I didn't say anything when she finished. Knowing she had won, Rose returned to scanning the old Daily Prophet in front of her. I mulled over what she told me in the ensuing silence.
So he'd been trying to protect Vera? Somehow I couldn't picture Scorpius Malfoy doing anything kind for…well anyone. What Rose had said about the threat from the older kids seemed likely enough. The Death Eaters were infamous during the Second War for using peoples' loved ones to get what they wanted. Perhaps it was hereditary.
From what Vera had told me of her brother during their childhood, Scorpius' version of events seemed (though I hated to admit it) quite possible. She had described him as aloof yet discreetly protective. Many of her recollections returned to me then. Like when she was six and he had carried her from the family orchard all the way back to the Manor when she had fallen from an apple tree and scraped her knee. Or when she had lost her tempre when she was eight and had accidentally set her bed on fire, he had helped her hide the evidence from their parents.
When I thought about it, I could recall many incidents she had described to me in which he had proved himself to be an extremely caring older brother. But the story being likely did not necessarily make it true. I could only think of one way to confirm the validity of Scorpius' story.
"I'm going to go talk to Teddy." I informed Rose. She nodded absently, apparently not at all surprised that I had arrived at this conclusion. I hopped to my feet and strode back down the aisle. I came to an abrupt halt however when I found my path blocked by a silvery stag.
"Come back to the office, James. We've got it. We've figured out the order."
"Rose," I turned to back to her. "They've figured it out."
Something sparked behind her eyes as she sprang to her feet. I tread quickly toward the grand oak doors and back toward the auror office with Rose on my heels. Several minutes later, we burst through a door into a plain, metal walled room that I guessed was the top secret "Evidence Room."
There, we found Wallace, Eliza, Hermione, and Dad leaning over a series of photographs placed on a long silver table.
"What have you found?" I asked when they looked up.
"Well," Said Wallace, looking incredibly proud of himself. "We couldn't figure out for the life of us what all these random phrases meant. They seemed to all fit together rhythmically no matter what order we put them in. Of course none of the combinations did anything to further the meaning. So Hermione here suggested we look more closely at the identities of the victims. There was of course the obvious connection – they were all related in some way to an ex-Death Eater. But then I noticed that they were all within the same age group. There was one year between all of them, in fact. So we arranged the phrases found at each of their homes in order their of ages: Riyaz Rookwood, 41, Finella Selwyn, 42, Ewan Dolohov, 43, Afric Avery, 44, Egan Mulciber, 45, and Blodwyn Travers, 46. This is what we came up with." He made to slide a hand written sheet across the table but stopped, apparently just noticing my identity. "Er…"
"Oh yes," Said dad after glancing at Rose and me. "My son and niece will be assisting on this case. If anyone has complaints about the matter, feel free to report them to the Head of the Auror Office." He grinned pointedly at the end. Wallace nodded unconcernedly and slid the parchment across the table. I looked over Rose's shoulder to read,
Many evils lurk within these walls.
As I walk, they whisper and they call.
Heaven, block out all my enemies.
Poke out their eyes with my iron bars,
Curb their whispers with hedges and groves,
Guide the river to their loathsome homes.
Let the bird's screeches drive them far,
Let red eyes and white feathers haunt their dreams.
Strangle their throats with my grand staircases,
Let them slither upon my wooden ground.
Allow my secrets beneath these floors,
To never carry past these doors.
Heaven, drive them far and drive them mad.
Never show them the dreams I once had.
I must've read it through a hundred times before I finally looked up at Wallace and Eliza.
"So what does that mean?" I demanded urgently.
The two aurors exchanged a look. Then Eliza said,
"We haven't the foggiest idea."
"James." Someone shook my arm. "James, wake up."
I opened my eyes groggily and a moment later my cousin Dominique came into focus.
"Are you okay?" She asked, leaning over me in concern.
"I'm fine." I replied, sitting up.
"Are you sure? You don't look fine."
To be fair to Dom, I wasn't actually fine. It was late afternoon and I'd been sitting in an armchair in the corner of the Burrow's sitting room with my head resting against my fist as I nodded off. I shook myself awake.
"I'm just tired." This, at least, was true. I'd been up half the night, tossing and turning in bed as the lines of Prince's poem repeated over and over again in my head like a catchy song. I felt as though there was something I was missing. Just one thing that would allow everything else to fall into place. It was that same obnoxious feeling as having a word on the tip of your tongue or trying to fetch an object off of a high shelf that stood just beyond your reach.
Dominique moved to sit in the armchair beside me and revealed my other cousin, Fred, in the process.
"You look a bit ill, mate." He said, pulling the ottoman over to sit in front of me.
"I didn't get much sleep last night. I was up late…thinking…"
"About that girl?" Fred sounded exasperated.
"She has a name." I replied irritably.
Fred's brow furrowed. "She didn't use to."
"Oh shut up, Fred." Dom interrupted. "I think it's sweet that he cares about her so much. Even if she is…you know…"
"A rotten, lying death eater spawn?"
I turned my eyes upon him. "Say that again and I'll hex you into oblivion." I replied quietly, dangerously.
"See this is what I mean!" He continued, unaffected by my threat. "Four months ago you would have just laughed. Now you're all psyched out of your wits because I called the bird a name. I mean, can you really blame us for wondering if you're under a spell?"
"Shut up, Fred." Dom said again, with little effect. "Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all do. You can't help who you fall in love with." Dom was perpetually the romantic.
"And what about Rose?" Fred continued, ignoring his older cousin. "She's walking around all peaky and exhausted. Al and Lily too. Has everyone in this family gone completely mad?"
"Don't listen to him, Jamie." Dom reassured me, using my childhood nickname for extra measure. "I'm happy you've finally found a steady girl. So are Victoire and Louis and Lucy. The others will come around eventually. And we'll help as much as we can to get her back, okay?"
"Thanks, Dom." I muttered absently.
"Oh come off it, mate." Fred's tone turned softer, almost pitying. "This is our graduation party. Don't let missing that girl ruin it for you."
"Yeah, you're right." I replied half-heartedly. "I'm going to get a drink."
My cousins nodded and as I walked away I heard Fred say,
"He'll come to his senses eventually. Realise she's not worth it. "
To which Dominique began muttering what sounded like French insults under her breath.
I weaved my way through the sitting room into the kitchen, pausing here and there to allow the odd relative or parental colleague to wish me luck and express their pride. I nodded and smiled absently, not really hearing anything they said. At last I arrived at the refreshments table and took in the drink options. Firewhiskey, butterbeer, Madame Rosmerta's finest mulled mead, and several bottles of elf-made wine. I reached for the dark red liquid and poured myself a generous glass. I turned around and was brainstorming ideas of where I could hide away for a quick kip when I suddenly found myself face to face with Neville Longbottom and Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"Oh, er, hello." I said politely. "What's up?"
"We just wanted to congratulate you." Neville said, shaking my hand enthusiastically. "You were one of my best students."
"Thank you, sir."
"From what I understand, you were every teacher's best student." Kingsley said lightly, shaking my hand as well. "Have you given any thought to what you'd like to do with all that talent?"
"Well mum's been trying to coax me into trying out for Puddlemere United, but I'm also applying to the Auror Program as soon as my N.E.W.T.'s come in."
"Good boy." Kingsley said approvingly, patting my back. I smiled half-heartedly and took a swig of wine.
"Well you'll make a fine auror, James. Who knows? You may even become Minister of Magic one day like this bloke here…James? Are you alright?"
I wasn't. I had just taken an enormous swig of elfin Merlot '99 and been overwhelmed by a sudden, vivid recollection.
"It's one of the best." I said, pouring a healthy measure of the scarlet liquid into her wine glass.
"James Potter, a wine connoisseur. Who knew?" She joked, taking a sip of wine and tossing back her blonde curls as she did so. I laughed and filled my own glass.
"So you've discovered something new about me tonight. Tell me something about Vera Malfoy."
She cast me a shy, unintentionally alluring smile. "What would you like to know?"
"Hmmm…well tell me about your home. I've never seen it."
"Which home?" She laughed. "The Manor?"
"Sure." I said, taking a swig.
"Okay…well it's very beautiful in a gothic sort of way. But it's also far too big and only grand for the sake of being grand. The landscape is my favourite part. It's in Wiltshire, just off the banks of River Avon. And in the summer there are orchards and groves in full bloom all over. It's lovely. There are hedges surrounding all 900 acres. In the front, there's an ornate, iron gate. It's enchanted to allow in only those we give permission. Inside the gate, tall yew hedges guide you down a gravel driveway all the way to the front door. Roving along the tops of the hedges…well this is a bit embarrassing but…the Malfoy family has bread albino peacocks for centuries. They stroll around the property at all hours. I've always found them a bit creepy. Red eyes and white feathers." She shivered dramatically. "There are also elaborate gardens and fountains all over the place. Inside the house there are beautiful, grand staircases, portraits of Malfoy family members dating all the way back to way back to Armand Malfoy, who first owned the Manor, freshly polished wooden floors, and all manner of secret passageways."
"It sounds lovely." I said, gazing at her as she scanned the sky.
"It is, in a way…we had fireworks on New Years as well. But that's about as close as our family celebrations come to each other." She giggled at the end, clearly feeling the effects of the wine.
I froze, completely paralysed as pieces began clicking together in my head at top speed. Our evidence of all the past murder scenes shows that the Prince often held his captives in their homes for days, sometimes even weeks before he killed them…I heard my father's voice. Iron bars…hedges…groves…the river…red eyes…white feathers…grand staircases…wooden floors. Vera's voice whispered familiar, disjointed phrases to me. And then the final piece clicked into place, and with the feeling of being hit by a high-speed train, I knew the answer. The answer to the question I had asked yesterday afternoon, "But where has the Prince taken her?"
"Er, James, are you quite alright?" Neville asked concernedly.
"Alright? I'm bloody brilliant! I just figured it out." I exclaimed, setting my goblet down on the table.
"Figured what out, son?" Asked Kingsley cautiously.
"Something important. Excuse me, I need to find my dad." With that, I took off through the house, weaving and dodging between guests.
I found my dad in the backyard with his two best friends, sipping butterbeer and chatting casually.
"Dad!" I yelled from the door. Guests milling around the yard all turned to look at me as though I was a madman. I ignored them and sprinted toward my dad.
"What's wrong, James?" My dad asked, seriousness overtaking his face.
"Nothing's wrong. It's fantastic! I've figured it out." I said as I finally reached him.
"Figured what out?" Uncle Ron stared at me beneath furrowed eyebrows.
"The Prince's poem. I know what it means!"
"Which is?" Aunt Hermione prompted excitedly.
"The Prince is telling us where he is. He's at Malfoy Manor."
"What makes you say that?" Asked Uncle Ron.
"On New Years Eve, Vera told me all about Malfoy Manor. Aunt Hermione, do you have a copy of the poem with you?"
She nodded and reached into her capacious beaded bag. After a moment of digging she withdrew a scrap of parchment and handed it to me.
"Many evils lurk within these walls…The Malfoy family has a history of dark magic. Isn't that where they held you when they kidnapped you? Poke out their eyes with my iron bars…the entrance is guarded by an enchanted iron gate. Curb their whispers with hedges and groves…the entire property is surrounded by hedges and groves, Vera told me. Guide the river to their loathsome homes…Vera said that the Manor is in the Wiltshire countryside on the bank of River Avon. Let the bird's screeches drive them far/ let red eyes and white feathers haunt their dreams…Lucius Malfoy is always bragging about his albino peacock collection, isn't he? Strangle their throats with my grand staircases/ Let them slither upon my wooden ground…Vera said there were grand staircases and polished wooden floors all over. She said she and Scorpius used to slide down the banisters when they were children. Don't you see? It all fits!"
To my extreme aggravation, they did not immediately jump into an excited frenzy. My dad and aunt merely looked stunned, while my uncle looked doubtful.
"I don't know, James. A lot of mansions have those features…" Uncle Ron said carefully.
"And how many of them have albino peacocks running free?" I pointed out.
"He's right." Said Aunt Hermione. We all looked at her. "I'm just surprised I didn't figure it out. I suspected the Prince was keeping them in one of the Malfoy properties, I just never thought he'd be as bold as to take over Malfoy Manor."
"He's proven to be nothing if not bold." Said my father thoughtfully. "No, I agree with James as well."
"Excellent." I replied, almost giddy. "We can come up with a plan and leave right now."
My father's expression turned pitying. "I'm afraid we can't, James."
"Why not?" I burst out, sounding like a petulant child.
"Because we don't know where it is." He replied simply.
"Of course you do. You've been there."
"Yes we have. But Malfoy Manor is unplottable. Draco saw to that after the war. We may know the location, but unless a secret keeper tells us exactly where it is, we can stand in front of the iron-gate for hours and never even see the house."
"So we find a member of the household to take us to it." I said, as though the matter was simple. But then the obvious problem became apparent to me. Aunt Hermione chose to voice it,
"We could do that…except there are probably only six people in the world who could potentially give us the exact location. Two of those people are on the run, two are imprisoned inside the house, and one of them is Lucius Malfoy. And I can assure you, he wouldn't assist an auror investigation even if his own life depended on it."
I nodded. "Well then, it looks like I'm paying a visit to Narcissa Malfoy."
Vera
Waking up on a cold, hard, stone floor is never the ideal way to begin one's day. What's even less fun is sitting up, looking around, and realising that that cold, hard, stone floor belongs to a dark, dank, and dreary cellar. And was is monumentally not cool at all, is finding your ghostly white brother hovering so close that you let out a screech.
Scorpius clapped a hand over my mouth and hissed,
"Shhh. They might hear us."
"Who are 'they'?" I asked, dropping my voice to match his volume.
"I'm not sure who they are. But I know they are the same masked duffers that kidnapped us off the train. Two of them come to check on us every ten minutes."
I propped myself up on my elbows and scanned the dingy cellar distastefully. It was dark. The only light filtered in through a barred doorway leading to a set of stairs in the far corner. There was an incessant dripping sound as individual drops of moisture fell from the stone ceiling to join their peers in puddles on the hard ground. With the exception of a few rusty chains in the opposite corner, the cellar was completely bare and looked as though it had been vacant for years.
"Where are we?" I whispered, rising into a sitting position.
Scorpius' nose wrinkled ever so slightly. "I have a hunch. Let's just hope I'm wrong."
"What do you mean?"
We both jumped as the barred, cellar door suddenly creaked open. I hauled myself to my feet and scrambled towards the far wall as two masked, hooded figures entered. Their masks were different from the ones of those who had kidnapped us on the train, but well within the same theme. They were plain white, styled like ones you might encounter at a craft store. The one to my right bore a mask with red covering the top half. The mask of the one to my left had red only in the bottom right quarter. I wasn't sure what the splashes of red were meant to symbolise, but I had a few suspicions.
Scorpius allowed one of them to take his arm and shove him roughly out the door without a fight. I struggled only slightly as the other clamped a hand around my arm, more curious than frightened.
The two figures pushed us unceremoniously up the steep stone steps, confirming my suspicion that we were, in fact, prisoners, not guests. The stairs emerged into…my breath caught in my lungs as I was greeted with the horribly familiar sight of the Malfoy Manor drawing room.
We rarely used this part of the house, as evidenced by the thick layer of dust on the floor. My mother said that it brought back bad memories for my dad, so it was kept perpetually locked and out of use. I didn't even know our house had a cellar until about five minutes ago.
The two figures bound our hands and pushed us two our knees. I looked around surreptitiously. More masked figures milled about the room, whispering amongst themselves and staring at us through the holes in their masks. Just before us stood another figure, separated from the masses by the ornate design of his mask. The left side was white, and the right side red. On top of his head stood…a golden crown.
"Why hello, Mr. and Ms. Malfoy. Welcome back to your humble abode. Except, I suppose, the word 'humble' would be entirely inappropriate." His voice was exuberant, flamboyant, as though he was having the time of his life.
"What do you want? Why did you bring us here?" Scorpius demanded in a quiet, dangerous voice. In one fluid instant, the man lunged, and there was crack as his hand made contact with the side of Scorpius' face. The handprint glowed red upon my brother's pale skin as he stared murderously at the man who had attacked him. In response, the man simply giggled.
"Speak only when spoken to." He said, to the amusement of his fellows. "Don't mind them." He waved to the aforementioned crowd. "They just enjoy seeing a proud bigot brought to his knees."
I cast my gaze to the floor, wishing I could sink into it and escape this situation. A moment later, I felt a cool hand beneath my chin, forcing my eyes upward to stare into those of the man. They were cold and black, like empty holes. He turned my head from side to side, examining my face closely.
"So this is the little black sheep, aye? My, my, you are a pretty one, aren't you? I suppose you'd have to be, considering how difficult it was to get a hold of you." My response was to stare steadily back into those black eyes. He tilted his head slightly, as though in curiosity. "But you look as though you have a question, my dear. Tell me, what's on your mind? You have my permission to speak."
"Who are you?" My voice did not waver even slightly as I spoke. The man's eyes glittered enthusiastically, as though he had been hoping I would ask this question. He straightened up and resumed his position before us. I could not see his face, but the smile was unmistakable in his voice.
"I go by many names. But most people just call me the Half-Blood Prince."
Author's Note: I hope the length of this chapter was adequate and that you enjoyed the glimpse into James' head. The majority of the rest of the story will be told from his POV.
J.K. Rowling described Malfoy Manor briefly in the first chapter of the Deathly Hallows. In the film, Hardwick Hall was used as Malfoy Manor. She also briefly stated that the mansion was located somewhere in Wiltshire, England. There is another grand mansion called the Longleat House that is actually located in Wiltshire off the banks of River Avon that is, in my mind, Malfoy Manor. Feel free to google it.
Sometimes when I'm writing, certain familiar phrases pop into my head and I don't remember immediately where they came from. In this case, I believe I may have quoted the Prisoner of Azkaban more than once in this chapter.
Most people recommended James' patronus be a lion, because he represents so many Gryffindor qualities. I agreed.
If you didn't already know, the names of the two aurors assigned to the train both come from Greek mythology. Calliope is one of the Muses who lives atop Mount Olympus. Her name is pronounced with a long "i" and the "e" is not silent. Daedalus is (I imagine most of you have also read Percy Jackson) the eccentric genius/inventor/madman who created the infamous Labyrinth for King Minos and the father of Icarus, the boy who flew too close to the sun. There's also, as you know, a Dedalus Diggle in the Harry Potter books. I like to think that Mr. Diggle and the auror are related, and that the auror is named after his relative, Dedalus Diggle.
Finally, I don't know if anyone is a fan of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, but if you noticed the number of the aisle that James found Rose in, kudos. I thought it was fitting. Rose went there to search for answers in the same aisle possessing the number signifying the meaning of life: 42.
Thanks to everyone who took the time to share their thoughts with me: geekyassangie, PopiAle, SilenceIsCompliance, Jenny (Ireland is beautiful. You're lucky to live there), Grazielly, and Griffie7198.
Special thanks to sarahmichellegellarfan1, Nimea, and Forever Siriusly Sirius for your particularly extensive feedback, and to welcome2michaeland and StrawberryObsession for poking so many holes in my story and forcing me to explain further. I hoped I cleared up a few of your questions.
Please review! Reader feedback is greatly appreciated.