Ch 26- Can't Be Unseen
McGonagall was not acting normal. The usually stern faced woman- for all her wrinkles- had never looked this soft before. And the Headmaster portraits were whispering about something, sliding into each other's frames to avoid being overheard. Then the Headmistress gestured for him to sit and even offered him a cup of tea. Tea from McGonagall.
That was about the time that he decided he needed to know what in Merlin's name was going on here. Not, of course, that Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy said it so callously. A Malfoy would never be so uncouth. "Ma'am, why have you brought me here? I was unaware that I'd done anything wrong…"
"Oh no, nothing of that nature." McGonagall agreed, sipping her own cup. "It's… a matter outside of school, I'm afraid. Have you received any letters from your parents?"
"Not from today- owls hadn't arrived by the time I left the hall." He put his untouched tea back down, not really liking the beverage anyways. "Should I expect something?"
"Most likely." She said, obviously trying to make some sort of assessment as she looked at him over the rim of her glasses.
Scorpius allowed himself a small frown as he tried to imagine what could have happened at home that would bring him to his school Headmaster. Had something happened to Lucius? Last he'd heard his condition hadn't been improving much at all… "Is my grandfather all right?"
"Yes, yes your family is perfectly safe." McGonagall immediately assured, picking up the copy of the Daily Prophet that had been facedown on her desk. "But… well, it seems that someone broke into your Manor. I did not want you to be in the Great Hall when the word spread."
He stood up and took the offered newspaper, reading the headline article.
MUGGLES AT MALFOY MANOR
(A DAILY PROPHET EXCLUSIVE.)
LAST NIGHT A RAID BY PERPETRATORS UNKNOWN WAS CONDUCTED AGAINST MALFOY MANOR.
LITTLE IS KNOWN ABOUT THE ATTACK, BUT WHEN REPORTERS GOT TO THE SCENE, NO LESS THAN TWENTY-FOUR MUGGLES WERE GATHERED ON THE GROUNDS OF MALFOY ESTATE. ALL WERE BAFFLED BY THE LARGE MANSION THAT THEY THOUGHT HAD BEEN BUILT OVERNIGHT. AS BAFFLED, IT WOULD SEEM, AS THE AURORS AND OTHER MINISTRY OFFICIALS TRYING TO CONTROL THEM.
FEW CONCRETE DETAILS HAVE BEEN REVEALED IN THE HOURS SINCE THIS RECENT ATTACK CAME TO LIGHT. INVESTIGATORS SUGGEST THAT THERE WAS A BREAK IN DURING THE NIGHT IN QUESTION, DURING WHICH THE PROTECTIVE BARRIER HIDING THE CENTURY-OLD ESTATE WAS BROKEN. OBLIVIATORS HAVE BEEN WORKING NON-STOP TO CONTAIN THE VIRAL SPREAD OF THIS UNPRECEDENTED PHENOMENON.
HARRY POTTER, HEAD OF THE AUROR DEPARTMENT, ALSO REFUSED AN INTERVIEW. EVEN SO, THE PRESENCE OF SUCH A HIGH RANKING MINISTRY OFFICIAL AT THE SCENE SPEAKS TO THE IMPORTANCE THE WIZARDING GOVERNMENT IS PLACING IN THIS INVESTIGATION. UNSUBSTANTIATED RUMORS ABOUND IN THE AFTERMATH, RANGING FROM DARK MAGICAL EXPERIMENTS IN THE DEPTHS OF THE MANOR GOING TERRIBLY WRONG TO ACTIVISTS AND ZEALOTS STILL ANGRY AT THE FOLLOWERS OF YOU-KNOW-WHO SEEKING REVENGE. AT THIS TIME, NEITHER OF THESE SEEMS LIKELY OR SUPPORTED BY THE FACTS OF THE SITUATION, AND THE OTHER RUMORS SWIRLING ABOUT REMAIN JUST THAT; RUMORS.
ONLY A HANDFUL NON-ESSENTIAL PERSONNEL HAVE BE ALLOWED TO STAY ON THE GROUNDS IN THE AFTERMATH. LITTLE IS KNOWN ABOUT THE ACTUAL EVENTS. THE ONLY POSSIBLE WITNESS, THEIR HOUSE-ELF SKIPSY, WAS FOUND DEAD AT THE SCENE. DRACO MALFOY, ACTING HEAD OF THE MALFOY FAMILY SINCE HIS FATHER LUCIUS FELL ILL SOME MONTHS AGO, DECLINED TO COMMENT. ALL THAT IS KNOWN IS THAT THE MALFOYS HAVE NOT ENTERED A REPORT OF THEFT, AND NEITHER DRACO NOR ASTORIA MALFOY WERE PRESENT IN THEIR HOME AT THE TIME OF THE INCIDENT. THE MINISTER OF MAGIC HAS REQUESTED THAT REPORTERS HAVE LIMITED ACCESS TO THE BACK OF THE GROUNDS TO AVOID ATTRACTING MORE MUGGLES AND CONTAMINATING EVIDENCE.
THE PROPHET IS KEEPING REPORTERS ON THE SCENE, AND WILL GIVE A FULL ACCOUNT OF THE OFFICIAL STATEMENTS BY THE MINISTRY AND THE MALFOY FAMILY (IF ANY ARE GIVEN) AS SOON AS RECEIVED. MORE UPDATES TO COME IN THE EVENING COPY OF THE PROPHET.
UNTIL THEN, THIS IS HEAD JOURNALIST LEE JORDAN, SIGNING OFF.
A chill permeated his bones as Scorpius sat back down, holding the paper loosely in his hands. "Skipsy's dead?"
The portraits murmured at bit, the older ones in disapproval of concern over an elf when he had an entire Manor to defend from muggles, but the newer ones- Dumbledore especially- flashing looks of silent praise.
McGonagall glanced at her predecessors before addressing her shell-shocked student. She pushed the tea back toward him. "Take your time, Mister Malfoy. You may stay in here for as long as you like- I shall inform your Professors that today you have my permission to miss their classes."
This time Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy took the cup, staring at the article in his lap until he was sure that he'd never forget the words. It didn't have much useful information, but it was all he had to work off for the moment. At least it had been written by Lee Jordan- the Journalist was well known for only reporting the truth, and if he said there'd been no sign of Dark Arts involved with the break in then many would believe it.
… unless, of course, James bloody Potter started making false claims about the subject. He'd done it in the past- claiming he knew the deepest details of Ministry Investigations even though that would cost even Harry Potter himself his position if it were true. Claiming that Scorpius's father, who'd always hated the Potters, still had Ministry Officials in his pocket to sweep investigations under the rug.
That was hogwash of course, Scorpius sneered silently. No self-respecting tactician would risk losing a source of valuable information by putting them in such a dangerous position.
But such rumors had worked wonders to persuade the student body in the past, and he knew that he and his friends were in for a rough few weeks until things died down. Scorpius sipped the tea, not really tasting it but still appreciating the warmth.
Naturally, he wasn't just analysing the implications. Underneath the young Malfoy was worrying about his parents and shaken to the core to hear that Skipsy was… gone. Dead, he corrected, not allowing himself the comfort of the distancing word. The house-elf had been part of his whole life, coming to Malfoy Manor with Astoria after marriage. The pair had been friends more than anything else. Scorpius had woken many a times to the smell of his mother and Skipsy baking home-recipe pancakes together…
His throat clenched, and Scorpius hid it by lifting the rim to his lips and pretending it was another swallow. Lucius had left the house- which, admittedly, made it far more peaceful if uncomfortably quiet- and now, not only had it been invaded by perpetrators unknown but a key part of his childhood had been ripped away as well.
What had happened to his home?
Harry hadn't felt sorry for Draco Malfoy in a very, very long time. Perhaps ever. But as he stood on the Malfoy Estate, watching his Aurors comb through every bit of the man's life for evidence while reporters eagerly watched and waited like jackals and muggles were being obliviated right on his doorstep, there was no way not to feel sorry for the pale man that had grown from his sneering classmate.
Even if the sneer had seemingly grown with him.
"Be careful with that," Draco Malfoy scowled and watched one of the Curse-Breaker's test his silverware. "It's antique."
Astoria was at his side, holding his hand as she looked around with hollow eyes. The normally diplomatic woman hadn't said a word since they'd found Skipsy's body. It had been obvious that some kind of fight had occurred- the room had been tossed and cushions shredded, but the elf herself didn't have a mark on her, sitting comfortably on a chair as though she'd get up any moment. The current theory was that she'd been hit by an Unforgivable.
The Curse-Breaker in question shrank a little under the oppressive gaze. Although Curse-Breakers were regularly employed by the Auror Division their usual cases involved confiscated evidence or ancient enchantments. It was very rare that they interacted with the actual owners of the items they tested, or faced their ire.
Harry stepped up and gave the man a supportive pat on the back, turning to Malfoy. "You're only slowing down our work."
"Oh forgive me for being worried about the china my family has had since the eighteen hundreds." Draco drawled, running his hand through his thinning hair as he looked around the kitchen. The enlarged cabinets seemed to have been tampered with by the intruder, as they'd all shrunk and regurgitated their contents all over the room. Shards littered the floor and the glass tabletop had been cracked as had some of the tile, but nothing was to be fixed until every scratch had been catalogued by the Ministry.
"I don't think I will, Malfoy." Harry snapped, his short-lived patience dying with his empathies. "Considering that you haven't been forthcoming with suspects or even opened the entire manor to our investigations."
"I'm sure you already have enough suspects." Draco pointed out condescendingly, his grip on Astoria tightening. "We have entered dozens of reports of wizards spying on us and submitting faulty accounts about our 'Dark' experiments. I'm sure you remember storming our mansion eight years ago, only to find that the 'screaming sacrifices' we were 'torturing' were in fact Scorpius and his friends playing monster while Astoria tried to host a tea party."
Harry winced at the reminder. They'd been much more careful to screen complaints regarding Malfoy Manor since that day… the real question was if he'd properly sorted the paperwork…
"Darling," Astoria spoke, her voice soft and echoey. "I'll watch them. You should go check on your work."
Draco looked at her and then swore under his breath at the reminder. He only paused to give her a gentle kiss on the cheek, sneering at Harry's look of utter shock at the affectionate gesture before leaving the room.
Harry Potter blinked at the woman who'd somehow won the heart of his nemesis as though wanting an explanation for the uncharacteristic behavior, but Astoria just waved her hand in a little 'shoo' motion. "Go on. Aren't you supposed to be watching him?"
Right, he was. The Head of the Auror department turned and went off after Draco Malfoy, ducking around and over many messes in the hallways.
Malfoy Manor was not a good place to Harry. After seeing it through Voldemort's eyes so many times he would have hated the home even if he hadn't been imprisoned here himself, however briefly.
Harry had watched Nagini the snake slide under that door. Down those stairs was the cellar Ollivander and Luna had been imprisoned in and Pettigrew had died. Through these doors was the drawing room where Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured Hermione, same place where Voldemort had tortured Bathilda Bagshot. Where Bellatrix had stabbed Dobby. After a bad day he sometimes dreamt the memories, sometimes saw his friends and children and family- Ginny- floating above his head, between him and that horribly gaudy chandelier…
As Draco pulled out a key Harry braced himself mentally for what would be on the other side of the door, but he still wasn't prepared.
It was like stepping back into Snape's classroom. Cauldrons and vials were set up around and atop tables, liquids ready to dilute and evaporate and sift through what Harry was sure was every size of erlenmeyer flask and pipette and beaker that had ever been created. Notes and quills were poised for use at every desk.
The once-open room was now drawn closed, dark curtains blocking the light windows and bookshelf upon bookshelf crammed along edges of the room. They were all different shapes and colors, as though they'd been added one at a time as they became needed with no mind toward their aesthetics. Many had been turned into impromptu storage for a variety of potions ingredients.
Draco relit some of the magical torches, further illuminating the cluttered but organized workspace. In the corner a small table was pressed against the only open windowsill, an unfinished game of chess awaiting its owners.
"What is this place?" Harry asked in awe, looking around.
"My house, Potter. Do try and keep up."
Not quite sure if that was an insult or if it had actually been an attempt at a joke, Harry ignored the comment. "But what kind of laboratory is this? What do you do in here?"
"Torture children and sacrifice kittens." This time Draco's sarcasm was more obvious, though he sobered as he checked through a shelf of hand-bound books to make sure none were missing. "Various concoctions and potions to maintain my skills as I research Lycanthropy. I've found that mixing wolfsbane with higher level alchemic components produces some interesting results. I'm trying to gather enough evidence to petition the Potions Board."
"What kind of interesting results?"
"Reverses it, essentially." He opened one of the bound collections of his notes over the years and nodded, seemingly pleased as his eyes quickly scanned the contents. "And before you say it Potter, I am well aware that this is likely the reason for the rumors about my home being full of dark experiments. Experiments yes, I will wholeheartedly admit to- but never Dark."
Harry finally pulled his eyes from the much-changed room, eased by the modifications to his surroundings. Even if the Malfoys had replaced the table and chairs and that horrible chandelier with new ones, different ones, the place could never have stepped out of the shadows of what it had once been. Not without giving it an entirely new purpose, as it had been.
Briefly, he wondered if that had been Malfoy's reasoning as well.
"We'll need to confirm that-" he started saying, but was cut off as Draco snapped his notes shut with an echoing -smack!
"My work is under protected confidentiality by the Research Protection Act of the International Alchemy Association. You will not touch it, Potter."
Damn Slytherin pride getting in the way, Harry swore. "I'm not out to steal your patent Malfoy. But your intruder might have been."
"And I will know if a single sheet of a single book was taken or tampered. Then, and only then, will I tell you what went missing. Besides, even if I wanted to show you my records-" which Draco Malfoy very obviously didn't, "-I cannot do so without express permission from the Centre for Alchemical Studies. In Egypt."
"In-" Harry knew that the Malfoy connections had always had a long reach, but this was just getting ridiculous. "Since when have you had contacts in Egypt?"
"Since I introduced him."
Harry stiffened and spun around at the unfamiliar voice, Auror reflexes instantly putting his wand in his hand.
The person in the doorway was tall, with spidery limbs but somehow still not spindly. He wore a muggle three-piece suit with a gold chain dangling from a pocket or two. His black hair was slicked back in the greasy way Draco had once worn his, but on this man it had the intended effect, giving him a regal bearing as the tips touched his collar. The force of his presence made even Malfoy Manor look dingy and unkempt, his dark gaze devouring voids as they examined everything before him. Altogether, he looked like he could have passed as Lucius Malfoy's dark twin.
His voice was smooth and pleasant as cream and sugar when he spoke, his accent American. "What did you think a man of Draco's ambitions did all day, twiddle his thumbs and count his gold? When I was informed of his interests and assessed his talent in the area, I made sure the people in the right places knew as well."
The man was unarmed. But Harry didn't lower his wand, nor did he dismiss the three Aurors that had accompanied the man's intrusion into the manor. The four Ministry Officials, to Draco's obvious amusement, were all armed and watching his guest like a circle of hawks. "I was wondering when you'd arrive. Bit later than normal."
"It's a bit hard to act upon information before it's shared." His voice was perfectly kind as he spoke with the Malfoy Patriarch, even if it sent chills up Harry's back. "Imagine my surprise when I read this morning's paper. I nearly dropped my ice cream."
The British Aurors looked at each other in mild confusion at the comment.
"Oh forgive me, where are my manners. Head of the Aurors, Boy Who Lived, Chosen One… this is Xavier Avery. Xavier, I presume you've heard of him?"
The Ministry stiffened in defense of their Head. Draco's exaggeration of titles and removal of his name had obviously been a slight toward Harry Potter. The man himself waved it off though, well used to such a barb from his old nemesis but warmed as always by their loyalty.
"Heard of him? We went to school together." Xavier flashed white teeth. "Though he never knew me in those days. Two years older and moreover a Slytherin, I don't suppose I was really his type."
"Not that such logic would stop every ninny from here to Dublin from boasting about it."
"Hm, no. It's quite funny actually… ask them who he fancied as a child and they'll fall over themselves trying to make you believe it was them at some point. Even some of the blokes." He raised ebony eyebrows a few times in amusement, laughing at the memory.
Harry looked between the two men that were cordially mocking his fame right in front of him and smiling as though they were discussing weather.
Xavier Avery's casual prowl had finally reached the pair, and he offered a trimmed hand. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Harry Potter. Chosen One, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord and Britain's Head of the Auror Department." He finished the statement with a nod of respect, all traces of amusement gone and replaced with sincerity.
This man wasn't really like Lucius, Harry realized. While Xavier Avery might have the presence and bearing of Lucius Malfoy in his prime, the ex-Death Eater could never have shown even a modicum of respect for anything that wasn't pure wizard. After another moment he lowered his wand to shake the hand of the man whose mugshot had adorned the Auror Office his entire career.
His Aurors stiffened as they continued to wearily watch Xavier, the elusive mastermind who had been suspected of more crimes and Dark magicks than anyone else in the past decade, but somehow avoided every conviction. Never once had a piece of evidence or witness account ever been tied to him.
Harry expected such a puppetmaster to be cold and bony. Instead the grip of the Avery Patriarch was soft and warm, firm but not aggressive for the few seconds of contact. Onyx eyes met emerald, then turned away and casually strolled the room, clasping his hands together behind his back.
Calmly dismissing the Aurors that continued to dog his every step, Xavier Avery thoroughly examined every item of the lab with his eyes. After a few moments, he called out "Draco." and lifted a hand, twitching his fingers in suggestion for his fellow Pureblood to come look at something. To Harry's surprise Malfoy moved across the room without hesitation. "Isn't this cauldron supposed to be simmering?"
The blond looked up from his notes and cursed, inspecting the cauldron in question. "But this isn't- I thought you said this was the best on the market!"
"Off the market, actually." Xavier corrected mildly, rubbing his chin in a way that made Harry wonder if the man had once had a beard. He would have to check their observation records. "Tailor-made to match your requirements."
"I required it to maintain that flame for another six hours before I added the wyrmroot and raised it to a boil!"
"What's so wrong?" Harry asked, a bit annoyed that the pair was dancing around the larger issue to fret over a bit of liquid. "Just turn it back on."
"What is 'wrong', Potter, is that I've had this potion on a constant simmer for five weeks. Now I'll have to start over- and get a cauldron that'll actually do its job!"
Rather than being insulted over the jab Xavier just nodded mildly. "I'll inform the appropriate people."
"Thank you." Draco said tersely, "See, Potter? That is how you make yourself useful."
"I am the appropriate people, Malfoy." Harry said in a matching tone, not one to boast but as usual unerringly competitive with his old rival.
"Quite right." Xavier agreed mildly. "Sir, I'd like to report that there's something very wrong with Malfoy Manor."
"I was aware."
"Are you?" His voice, though still amicable, had turned to the mocking condensation of someone who held hostage something valuable. Information broker, Harry remembered the man's self-proclaimed title, and admitted it very fitting. Onyx eyes turned to Draco and lips raised in a humorless smile. "Ah. So you've noticed at last?"
Draco Malfoy was looking at his lab with fresh eyes, his blue-grey gaze flitting between vials and flasks of still potions. Finding that the quick-quotes quills were laying quietly on the tabletops instead of moving with the constant notes they'd been instructed to take, that the liquids were not steaming nor sifting nor pouring as they should have been.
"Noticed what?" Harry asked, feeling like he'd missed something important even as he watched Draco run out of the room.
Xavier Avery turned and meandered after him, the Aurors walking after him as well. "Well Potter, what has been damaged in this Manor?"
Not wanting to give the Dark Wizard any more information, Harry asked instead of answered "What have you seen so far?"
"Weeelll… enlarged closets that overflowed, everlight torches snuffed out, the barrier hiding this manor broken, a house elf killed without a mark…" his voice held a surprising amount of retribution for the killing, considering that Xavier Avery was a pureblood. "And of course, the cauldron whose creator I personally know has never made a faulty product ceases to work. See any similarities yet?"
Draco Malfoy was stopped in a long hallway that held the portraits of his family for the past ten centuries, staring. It took Harry a moment to realize what was wrong.
It had taken years, as a child, to become accustomed to the people in pictures moving and breathing as though alive. Now Harry found it even more unnerving to see them frozen. The portrayed Malfoys were turned to each other as though any moment they would start talking again, some even laughing or sneering their last comments.
The three men walked down the hall as though mesmerised, seeing a change on the oil scenes as they walked through ten centuries of family history. After the first few still portraits the next hung empty, only for their subjects to be caught and trapped while fleeing through the abodes of their neighbors. Then there were some who seemed to be horrified, screaming, and finally a crowd of Malfoy's ancestors had pressed together, trapped in the last portrait. Some hugged the portraitures of their spouses, others hid their faces, a few stared from the out of frame in defiance but more seemed to be begging, their desperation and defeat a silent accusation against the three men who now saw them.
"It wasn't just the concealment barrier." Draco Malfoy murmured under his breath, looking lost. Xavier Avery nodded sagely and finished the thought, straightening his gold cufflinks.
"It wasn't just the concealing barrier. It was all of them. Every bit of magic in this building- of this entire Malfoy Estate… is gone."
Schools were funny things. They seemed so boring- such a drag from day to day- until something big happened, got everyone's attention, and then… they still dragged.
Albus Severus Potter bounced his quill on the parchment he was supposed to be taking notes with, having long ago ceased listening to his Muggle Studies class. He kept glancing to the clock, feeling the second hand was most certainly slower than it should have been.
He should have run after Zoey, he thought to himself. It didn't matter that the Head Boy had been with her, he should have made sure she was okay. Albus hoped she was okay- she'd looked hurt when she'd left the Great Hall, scared almost.
Rose on the other hand was downright terrified. When Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron heard about this… There was going to be a lot of yelling. Albus winced in sympathy, then shook his head. He shouldn't be sympathetic. Family or not Rose, like James, had crossed a line that should never ever be crossed. He should be mad with her.
Problem was, Albus Severus Potter still didn't know how to be mad. He had yet to fully discover what his brand of anger was like, but he definitely wasn't very good at it. His treacherous mind, though certainly concerned about Zoey, was equally worried about his cousin-and-friend.
She had looked destroyed by the end of Zoey's accusations.
… this was not how his day was supposed to have gone. He was not supposed to be worried about the mental stability and sanity of his close friends and his… crush? He sighed, wishing there was a better word for it as he rolled the quill thoughtfully between his fingers. Albus was supposed to have a nice, normal breakfast with a nice, normal conversation about nice, normal things like oh yeah Zoey do you know I like you or not? And then worry about whatever her answer would have been.
On second thought, Albus would readily confess that a part of him was relieved that that conversation hadn't happened. Though he definitely did not like the way breakfast had gone instead.
When that Ravenclaw had told them that Lysander let Rose into Ravenclaw Tower he'd thought 'not a chance'. None at all- no way would Lysander Scamander, Ravenclaw Prefect and all around model child, do something like that. He hadn't even wanted to pass on the rumor, but then Lily had gone and asked anyways and Zoey, it seemed, had realized something they hadn't.
She'd looked physically ill as she left her breakfast, and though Zoey had waved off his concern Albus had followed her anyways. He'd stayed back in confusion when she'd stopped at his House Table instead of the Hospital Wing, giving himself a prime view to see and hear the entire exchange.
He had no idea if he should have stepped in. Despite being in the middle of an audience it had been an awfully private subject. Albus Potter had ties to both girls, sure, but neither one had talked to him about the matter or invited him into the conversation.
He was starting to understand what Lily meant when she said he overthought things. But wasn't that what he should be doing as a Gryffindor? Albus should be brave enough to step in the middle of a teenage catfight. Instead his mind had analysed the situations much more like a… Slytherin's. The House the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in.
With practice Albus pushed that thought away. He'd never told anybody, and he'd always ignored any sign that perhaps the green-and-silver House suited him more than his family's.
Instead of stepping in to help the way Albus probably should have he'd watched like the rest of the school, horrified at first by Zoey's accusations and then by Rose's confession that it was true. After that he'd been too shell-shocked to try anything. Al still couldn't believe it. Rose Granger-Weasley was his best friend, and he knew that she had faults- she'd always been rather self-centered- but this was… beyond everything he'd ever seen of her. Even if he threw James Potter into the equation, it didn't add up.
There was more to her betraying Zoey than resentment over tutoring, more than an unsolved puzzle behind a 'transfer' and Rose failing to look beyond her own nose. Albus, with the instinct born of family, knew that there was something he was missing… something that Rose hadn't admitted.
And he was determined to find out what it was. He watched the clock ticking down, grabbing his bag and almost out the door before the bell had even rung. Albus left his parchment behind- he'd written barely two words and the metal quill-tip had poked holes through it anyways- and ignored the homework the Professor called out, figuring that if his Father had passed Hogwarts with Voldemort attacking him practically every year, then he could skip one assignment.
He had barely ten minutes between bells to cross the school and get to Rose before she started her next class- Care of Magical Creatures. Albus swallowed his nervous gulp and picked up his pace, wanting to find her before it became necessary for him to approach the magical beasts himself. The dangerous, hand-eating, fire spewing, beasts…
Ignoring a cold-sweat and the way his knees threatened to knock beneath his robes, Albus picked up his pace. Skipping down stairs and weaving through crowds until he reached the courtyard, he had barely caught sight of Rose and her friends when a voice echoed.
"GOT YER CONK!" Peeves cried, swooping up from his hiding place and grabbing Rose Weasley's nose with such force he actually lifted her a few inches off the ground.
She gave a startled cry and her already watery gaze grew mistier as she grabbed her injured appendage, sniffing wetly. Other students backed away from the blue poltergeist, and Albus froze. While he was not scared of Hogwarts's poltergeist he was not particularly fond of him either. He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and started chewing.
"Nosy Rosy!" The blue being rhymed, floating around her instead of moving on to new targets as he normally would. "Little Rosy got a Little Nosy, didn't she? Little Nosy hurts someone, doesn't it?"
"Leave me alone!" Rose cried, but it was more of a plea as she protectively kept her hands over her face.
Undeterred, Peeves pulled out a bowl of moldy peanuts, throwing them with expert aim to leave smelly stains and get stuck in her thick hair. "Lousy-Noisy-Nosy-Rosy!" His cackle echoed across the courtyard, the sound lacking its usual mischief.
People stopped to watch the Legacy vainly attempt to block the projectiles, failing rather miserably. Rose's eyes were streaming with tears.
Albus, watching his cousin, knew exactly what was going on in her head. She was embarrassed. Rose had always hated negative attention. And now it was happening to her not once but twice in a single day. As always she was melting under pressure, panicking, not even reaching for her wand even though she easily knew half a dozen spells that would send the poltergeist running.
He spit the gum he'd been chewing out of his mouth and flicked his wand, realizing that if the poltergeist didn't leave he'd never get the chance to talk to Rose. "Waddiwasi!"
With the force of a bullet the wet wad of mint snack shot from Albus's hand and straight up Peeves's right nostril, making the floating poltergeist drop his ammo and zoom away, cursing.
Rose cringed under the wave of nuts that fell over her, and went from covering her nose to pinching it against the stench. She looked up at Albus as he approached, snapping "About time." in a nasally voice.
Albus frowned. He'd witnessed her defensive barbs many a times, but being on the receiving end of it wasn't particularly good for his mood at the moment. Even still, his treacherous mind could understand her desire to utter it as it was her way of feigning confidence. With the eyes of the school looking at her with expressions that varied from pity to condemnation and everything in between, he knew Rose would panic before of them as much if not more than she did because of the poltergeist.
He looked from the audience back to her and gave a start as he realized that she'd already started walking away to escape her audience. "Hey- wait! Rose!" Albus rushed after her. "I wanna talk to you!"
"Not now, Al. I've got class."
Albus breathed easier after she cleaned off the moldy peanuts with a spell. "But it's important-"
Rose spun around with enough speed that her hair lifted and fell in a thick wave, the sudden action making her cousin stagger so they didn't collide. "Well it can wait! I have class, Al. I don't have time for ghosts or questions or poltergeists-" she took a quivering breath, holding back more tears. "Look, thank you for that, but I really have to go. Just- I'll talk to you at the meeting."
He snapped his mouth shut, trying to hide his hurt at the dismissal. "What meeting?"
"Merlin. Don't you ever check your coin?" Rose accused, and he dutifully reached deep into his bag for the fake galleon that resided there. It was hot to the touch and lightly burned his sticky fingers as he checked the day of the impending family meeting.
Monday night?! Why would it be so far- Albus cursed when he was hit by the epiphany. Of course James would set the meeting for after the ruddy Gryffindor match against Slytherin. He wouldn't let anything get between him and his precious Quidditch Cup, and Albus stomped his foot in frustration with his conceited brother. It was only a scrimmage, it wouldn't even count. "Rose I just want to know-" he blinked as he looked up to find that Rose had again walked away, leaving him alone without even a goodbye.
Albus had tried to talk to her, even told her it was important. Rose was clever enough to realize how much of a detour he must have taken to get the opportunity to meet her in the scant few minutes, but instead of acknowledging his urgency she'd ignored it. Ignored him.
Harry Potter's second son saw red as he clenched the coin tighter in his hand, and only started moving again when he realized that though he was stilled by the anger festering inside him time was still moving everywhere else. Instead of rushing after Rose he turned toward the castle for his next elective, responding on the coin to promise he'd be there before he deftly shoved it out of sight.
He was tired of being treated as a pest, a nuisance. He knew he was seen as a crybaby by his family and perhaps he had once been but as he walked into the dungeons he made the decision to never be again. Not if it meant being so solidly dismissed out of hand.
No, Albus Severus Potter did not know how to be mad.
But he was learning.
"Of course it'd be our lunch." Zambini grumbled to his empty plate. Word had spread around the hall that Peeves had disrupted the kitchens, and while everyone's meal had been delayed as a result Slytherin's were still waiting.
The only thing that arrived so far were the side dishes. Scorpius looked dispassionately at the vegetables, tempted to take a page out of Zambini's book and stab some peas to release his frustration. If frustration was even the right word anymore; after leaving McGonagall's office he'd been emitting a carefully constructed calm.
Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy did not respond to the whispers, or the jabs thrown at him from across the halls. He did not react to the accusations about his family finally getting their due, or the conversations that cut off guiltily at his approach.
One first year had made the mistake of trying to throw a spell at him, and Scorpius had quite happily used his own magic to deflect the projectile and send it shooting back toward the culprit. He was a Malfoy, and while his name did not deserve its current opprobrium a Malfoy could not be affected by the prattling of the unimportant. That being said, a Malfoy certainly was not someone to jeer or attack lightly. Scorpius readily took any opportunity to remind the school of that.
It worked. The rest of his walk through Hogwarts had been far less eventful. He was almost disappointed- Scorpius would relish a duel right now to work out his fidgets.
Instead he sat with his friends, his posture perfect and his expression neutral. Though he usually ate with his back to the wall he currently sat in Nott's usual spot with his back exposed to the other three Houses. The young Malfoy normally wouldn't put himself in such a position of vulnerability. But uncomfortable as the stares Scorpius sensed digging into his back felt, they were also useful. Nott was in a position to see and judge potential threats from individuals that might try something in an empty hallway and Priscilla was poised to protect him should any fool be pretentious enough to actually try something in public.
Zambini was sitting his little sister by his side. While they usually tried to give the First Year her space to forge whatever alliances she could, in the wake of this potential mayhem they'd decided preemptive measures to be prudent. Marianngela Zambini didn't complain, but her friend was.
Marcel Avery had been folded into their protective circle by association, but he didn't look particularly happy about it. The pudgy boy blew some graphite off his sketchpad and glared at Priscilla. "I don't see what you're so worried about- with that argument this morning nobody's going to care about some dumb article."
"We care." Nott disagreed, flicking a quick glance at Malfoy but even he couldn't see anything beyond the dispassionate mask his friend had summoned. "And everyone else will eventually as well."
"How is Zoey?" Marianngela asked, her worry evident a she pushed her blond hair back with a Slytherin-green headband. Though they only had Dark Arts with the transfer she was really nice and especially helpful about studying- the Ravenclaw caught concepts remarkably quick but just couldn't seem to execute what she knew. "Why'd that Legacy go after her anyways?"
"Dunno, don't care." Zambini mumbled, still pouting at his empty plate. "That's between her and the Legacy Princess."
"And Ravenclaw and Gryffindor," Priscilla pointed out, her sharp ears having heard some passing conversations of their neighboring table. The ones not about Malfoy Manor were unerringly over only one other subject. "It seems the Ravens aren't too pleased about having an intruder."
Scorpius blinked at the news, though he wasn't truly surprised by that information. He'd predicted the Legacies's troubles, after all, but he couldn't find it in himself to be pleased by the events or proud of his foreshadowing.
He really wasn't hungry enough to wait, he decided and stood without warning.
"Going somewhere?" Nott stated the obvious with mild curiosity.
"Orion's office." He answered, still dispassionate. While he normally didn't get along with the Assistant Professor he was keen to have something to do other than sit and think.
Walking between Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, he was able to hear snippets of conversations from either direction.
"... how did she even get in? Why didn't the eagle tell anyone?"
"Not its job, I suppose. And didn't Malam say Halloween?"
"Blimey, I can't believe we didn't notice…"
"... what could take down a concealing barrier?"
"Dunno, I already got a letter from Father. He'd going to call an expert in to double check ours. Doesn't want to be in papers next…"
"... I can't believe she's only getting detentions. She should be suspended, or expelled!"
"As if. Can you imagine the uproar? Hermione Granger's daughter kicked out of school? McGonagall'd be sacked by the board if she even tried it."
"At least it was McGonagall. Can you imagine Longbottom giving her detention? He'd always had a soft spot for the Legacy kids…"
"... Malfoy's got away easy after the Second War, that's what my dad always said. Said they only got off light because Harry Potter himself stepped in, though Merlin knows why. Dad said they were always fighting in school."
"Must've been pity. Or maybe so he had someone to watch in case of another group of Death Eaters tried something? You know, like muggle miners and canaries?"
"Do you think that's what this is?…"
"... I assure you," The authoritative voice of the Head Boy caught a group's attention. "Rose Granger-Weasley's actions were her own. None of Gryffindor knew what she was doing."
"Except her family, which is most of you anyways!"
Scorpius recognized the speaker as a DDC member.
Ravenclaws murmured support of the comment, still looking at Daniel expectantly. The Gryffindor leader sighed and looked to his right, where Emma Wilkes was aiding his attempts to calm her slandered House.
"Now there's no need for hyperbole…"
Scorpius didn't hear the rest of her words as he finally cleared the Great Hall, pausing for a moment in the silent foyer. He slid his hawthorn wand into a ready grip, just in case someone attempted to accost him while he was separated from his friends.
His walk was disappointingly uneventful. Unless one was to count the Fat Friar. The Hufflepuff Ghost had jovially offered a conversation, but Scorpius walked straight through him, the icy chill actually somewhat refreshing at the moment.
Scorpius Malfoy knocked curtly on the door to Orion's office. Technically it should have belonged to Binns, but since the ghostly professor never used it and it was meant for the History of Magic Class, Orion had appropriated it at the start of the year.
There was music playing, and Scorpius wondered if he'd even been heard over a rich male voice singing "Fly me to the moon. Let me sleep among the stars..."
The door creaked under his hand and he realized the door was not only unlocked but open. Pushing it with his foot Scorpius entered a room full of outdated furniture, a desk in the middle dominating the space. On it was a plate of sandwiches and an empty cage with six locks on it.
Orion himself was fiddling with something at a workbench under the window, and the Slytherin took the moment to examine the surroundings.
It was a very busy office, with a clear line down the middle between work and hobbies. The side by the window had papers, schedules, and some of the magical contraptions that Orion frequently used to aid history lessons. There was the projector as well as the interactive maps he'd used so far, in addition to a few other contraptions that had yet to be used in class. Every page was bound and organized by year and color-coded with the houses in the particular class. The wall calendar was coded as well, red, yellow, green and blue being utilized for a better purpose than decoration.
Then there was the other half. Scorpius felt his lips press into a thin line as he took in the clutter. The space around the fireplace was filled with haphazardly collected books from the library and some strange items. After inspecting them a moment longer Scorpius recognized one of them as a comptutor, the muggle information gathering device. Glancing at the tiny metal squares and wires that had been thrown into baskets, he decided they must be mugglish too and therefore lost interest.
Jonovan Orion himself was crouched over something, a phonograph on his left playing the music Scorpius had heard from outside. The assistant was mouthing along with the rich tone of the singer while he fiddled with various pieces and parts of yet another contraption Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy had never seen before.
"Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away…" The song went, the Assistant still ignorant of his audience as he held what he was working on up to the light. Tisking, Orion leaned his chair back on two legs and extended an arm. He reached the main desk, paused to grab a sandwich, and then he reached back again. "Once I get you up there where the air is rarified, We'll just glide…"
Scorpius suppressed a snort at the singer's choice of words, and wasn't completely surprised to see that the sandwich had already been replaced on its plate. Howarts had several elves to help wherever needed.
Elves… Skipsy… Malfoy shook his head, deciding that he should get this meeting with the Assistant over with. He straightened his gaze and took a step forward just as the Asistant's hand reached the plate the second time.
But Orion wasn't grabbing another sandwich. Instead his arm grew. Scorpius watched with awe as the limb simply stretched clear over the desk, the bones between Orion's shoulder and elbow and wrist and eventually even between the knuckles growing longer and thinner. It was a bit stomach churning, and yet he was mesmerized as he watched the fingernails grow dark and pointed to pinch a wire that had been resting on the shelf across the room. Then it shrunk in much the same manner, settling back onto the workbench with the piece it'd been sent for.
The entire process had taken less than five seconds and Scorpius shook his head to clear it from shock. He'd been aware that Assistant Orion was a metamorphmagi, but Malfoy had never imagined the self-transfiguration skill being used in such a manner.
Orion rolled the shoulder of his stretched arm and took a bite of his lunch as he continued to focus on his work, mouthing "Fly with me, let's fly, let's fly… Pack up, let's fly away!" before the music faded with the end of the song.
The record skipped, and skipped again, and Jonovan reached for the record to flip it to the other side. His arm had already started stretching when this time he noticed his audience and he paused, blinking in surprise. "Mister Malfoy. I- you're here early. Did you even have time to eat?"
Scorpius didn't respond to the rhetorical question, instead watching with curiosity as Orion stood and walked across his office to flip the record instead of repeating the display of his metamorphmagi skill. "There's quite a lot of muggle items here."
It wasn't a question, but Orion answered anyways. "It makes no sense that electricity gets interrupted by magic, and vice versa. Honestly you wizards are so far behind in times that it's almost pathetic. Do you have any idea how far I have to travel to send even one email to my family?"
"What's wrong with owls?"
"Family's muggle." The Assistant blew off some dust before resetting the record. "And owls can take anywhere between days and hours. It's very inefficient. Somewhere between radios and computers, the electrical components cease to function. I'm trying to deduce which step exactly."
Scorpius looked at the mugglish items with kindled interest. They were still a grating mess to the eye, but they held more potential now.
"If I had known you would be here so early I would have…" Orion looked at the mess himself and seemed to decide on honesty with himself and his student. "Attempted, to tidy up some."
"Is there a particular reason that your project shows remarkably less organization than your professorial work?"
"Absolutely." The Assistant answered without hesitation. "When I'm teaching I need to be organized, prepared to answer any question or anecdote my students ask for and lead them back to the topic that is provided. While learning one follows any inspiration no matter how random, and the unexpected results become part of the lesson."
Quite the intriguing answer. Scorpius filed the distinction away for further analysis.
"Chaos creates inspiration. For me, anyways." Orion finished as he reset the music, the deep baritone of the man singing once more filling the room.
"I've got the world on a string, sitting on a rainbow. Got the string 'round my finger…"
Rather pretentious lines, and Scorpius didn't quite follow how it related to the following lyrics related to love. "What did you want to see me about, Assistant Orion?"
"The topics are twofold, actually." Orion sat not at his desk but back at his workbench, the spindly man folding his limbs into the small chair with practice. "Did McGonagall show you the paper?"
"Yes." he answered blankly. And even if the Headmaster hadn't given him the privacy to discover the news he'd undoubtedly had heard by now, with the paper circulating as it was and his friends being as connected as they were. It was more surprising that he hadn't heard anything from his parents.
He supposed their silence was because his Father was busy trying to keep nosy Aurors from ruining their Manor, and that Mother would be upset because of Skipsy.
Orion watched his face and seemed to come to a decision. "But you are early, and I hadn't reached the stopping point with my experiment. I need at least ten more minutes. Why don't you just wait a little while, eat if you want, and let me know when you're prepared for a serious conversation."
Scorpius watched him turn in his desk to resume working, having a sudden sense of deja-vu as he remembered the many times his father did the same thing. While the authority figure engaged in academics he fell into a familiar routine of being alone in his thoughts, and admitted to himself that he was a bit hungry.
The young Malfoy grabbed one of the grilled sandwiches. Malfoys did not normally enjoy such plebian food, but finding the toasted bread crunchy and melted cheese accenting the smokey flavor of the meat, Scorpius Malfoy had to admit it was adequate to sate his appetite.
Enough so that he grabbed its replacement and started eating that one as well. He realized it wasn't being alone in his thoughts that had bothered him in the Great Hall it had been the whispers and buzzing conversations. The silence stares upon his perfect composure even as he'd resolved to ignore them. Sliding a glance at the Assistant and finding the man still distracted, Malfoy leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the tranquility of privacy and soft music.
Scorpius was itching from head to toe to do something, but action was not the charted course for the moment. Even if he wished he didn't have the skills to influence matters at Hogwarts let alone at him home, and so all he could do was wait. Wait for others to find the thieves that had attacked his Manor and killed Skipsy, thieves that had been fool enough to target one of the Sacred 28 Pureblood lineages.
The Malfoys may have fallen in recent memory but they still held strong to their past, and woe became those few who forgot.
Though Scorpius had no doubt that his family would enact retribution on the perpetrators soon enough that wouldn't change what had happened. Couldn't change it. The damage done this time was not a doctored photograph in a paper or a spit to their pride, it wasn't something that could be repurchased and replaced. This time it was in their own home. And the intrusive, personal affront would always be remembered by the metaphorical ghost of their murdered elf.
Scorpius had heard the ideals of S.P.E.W., but he was from an old family and Skipsy from an even older one. While it did not really feel like the death of a family member the young Malfoy certainly felt it comparable to a rug being swiped from under his feet. Only instead of hitting the floor he was still falling, and what else might tumble had yet to be seen.
He had a chill of premonition as he remembered his own words. If just one piece falls, the rest will follow.
The cold sensation passed and Malfoy straightened, his grey eyes turning cold. He was the heir apparent, he wasn't about to let his line collapse. A Malfoy would never let down his predecessors that way. The Malfoy name had survived both wars with both their families and their fortunes intact. Armand, the first Malfoy in Britain, had served King William I. Septimus Malfoy had helped calm the Ministry after the terror of the Salem Witch Trials in the early 1700s, rewriting the strict mandates of the Statute of Secrecy to ensure the safety of wizardkind.
Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was going to be the Malfoy that reminded the world of the good his family could do. He would put the whisperings of Death Eater ideals to rest and above all, Scorpius Hyperion would not let himself fall prey to the same fault James Potter was crumbling under.
He swallowed the last bite of the second sandwich and chased it down with some water. "Thank you professor. I didn't realize I was hungry."
"I was your age not so long ago… and I still haven't grown out of the hunger." Orion straightened from his bench and reached for yet another sandwich.
"What are you working on?"
"A CD player." Orion answered, holding up the portable player from the 2000s. "It seemed like a good step between phonograph and more complicated components, like ipods or wifi players. And all I have on record is Frank Sinatra, Michael Buble, and the Beatles. I need more variety. Plus, Christmas is coming up. It'd be nice to have some music already."
Christmas music in November. Scorpius kept his comment to himself and watched Orion pull a plate from a drawer and steaming cookies appear atop it. "Dessert?"
"Pass."
Shrugging, the Assistant ate one himself and sat behind his desk. The ornate furniture made him look even thinner by comparison, a soft sort of wiry that was normally associated with starving crooks or the limbs of a spider. He neatly finished the dessert with three bites before wandlessly summoning a glass of milk and dunking his next cookie in it as he spoke. "Now, there are two things I wish to speak with you about. First I wanted to talk about Zoey's tutoring with you- and then I wanted to ask if you were interested in visiting your Manor with me. Whichever you want to address first."
He took a bite, closing his eyes and smiling. Scorpius looked between the man and the dessert, thinking it oddly uncharacteristic but more occupied with his offer. A chance to go home himself- to see his parents, to check on his room. That itch was back and eager to be scratched. The unexpected information jumped his mind into an analytical mindset.
He appreciated being told both topics up front. While it was normally a strategic flaw to reveal one's hand in such a manner, Orion was doing his best to avoid being accused of bribing Scorpius with the offer of a home visit or of the opposite, refusing the student the exact same trip for personal reasons.
It was still both a carrot and stick in the conversation, but by saying them both up front it was the least underhanded way to open both topics that Orion had decided to address.
Now it was just a matter of deciding which one first. Realizing that a key point had been left out, Scorpius immediately asked "When would this visit be?"
"As soon as we're done speaking."
"Ah. In that case- what about Malam's tutoring?"
"Given Miss Rose's actions, I felt inspired to personally vet Zoey's remaining tutor before it continued." Orion said bluntly but smiled as his focus shifted, the expression softening his face. "I know my cousin appreciates your efforts, even if she was against being tutored at the beginning. And she does consider you one of her friends. I was wondering what your thoughts on tutoring her has been."
Scorpius tilted his head to the side to watch Orion's expression from the corner of his eyes. That softness… the familial tie between the two of them was certainly close. "It hasn't yielded much results academically, I'm afraid, but I have not been opposed to our sessions for some time now."
"Hm. And, your opinion in the wake of… recent events?" The assistant sipped the milk as though it were a fine wine, looking at Scorpius over the rim.
"Her determination in the wake of such struggles is… commendable. Very few could stay as focused as she has." He was unaware of the softness in his own voice as he admitted that, but saw Orion's eyes flicker. Scorpius lifted his chin and turned his comments to the scholarly avenue. "Given that she's still interested in learning I see no reason she should be denied aid. Although…"
The last word was hesitant, the pause theatrical, and Orion took the bait. "Although…?"
"Although, since Rose quit, it's become a bit of a task to keep up with. I've been taking her to DDC to help with the practical aspects, but the textbook material is proving to be difficult."
"You think there may be someone that can do your job better?"
Scorpius bristled and wondered if Wainbata had told Orion to make that exact insinuation against his incapability, but then discarded it. Malam likely hadn't any clue this conversation was taking place. Scorpius had seen her walking away from Orion that morning, who had been teaching class with Binns ever since. Though the echo of her old barb made Scorpius realize that the cousins had doubtless spoken about him in the past. "I merely find myself with a lack of relating assets. I had heard McGonagall gave Rose an unrestricted pass into the Restricted Section to aid her with her literary tutoring, but without that…"
He trailed off to let the man come to his own conclusions. Were it not a fundamental flaw in any negotiation Scorpius would have crossed his fingers in hope that Orion, being new to Hogwarts staff, wasn't fully aware of what he was being asking for. The Restricted Section was restricted for a reason, likely the Rose's permission had only been granted because of her lineage and McGonagall's favoritism and her sterling reputation. But if he could have even a bit of luck on such a bad day…
"Is that so?" The Assistant looked at him, his brown eyes dark and endless as the man weighed options. "Well, Mister Malfoy, if I could help arrange so that this 'pass' makes it to yourself, would you then find no issues with your tutoring responsibilities?"
Were it not below a Malfoy Scorpius might have cheered at his triumph. "None at all."
"Excellent." Jonovan Malam Orion grinned the smile of success that Scorpius didn't allow himself, and stood from his desk. "Now, let's get dressed for that hometrip…"
Scorpius stood with his own nod of agreement, finding he enjoyed the interaction with the Assistant: Short, functional, no-nonsense. "Lets."
"Did you see where James went?"
"Sorry, no."
Roxanne sighed and thanked the Ravenclaw girl before resuming her search, stopping to ask every person she saw- no matter their House- if they knew where her cousin was. She knew he'd been at breakfast that morning, but hadn't seen his sorry hide ever since. Fridays were elective days for most of the school, so though her and James were the same House and year their only time together was lunch and their study break.
Her stomach growled mournfully at the reminder of food, but Roxanne firmly ignored it to race toward the Owlery instead. She'd been looking for James ever since Uncle Neville had taken Lorcan to McGonagall's office, wanting to know what their game plan was going to be. But he'd buggered off quicker than a boggart.
She wasted her entire study period this way, running around corners and sliding down stairs and asking everyone she met if they'd seen her Quidditch Captain and fellow Gryffindor, James Potter.
"Have you seen James?"
"Any idea where…?"
"Has he been here?"
"When did you last see James?"
"James Sirius Potter. Where is he?"
Everyone she ran into answered Roxanne Weasley's question with uncertain headshakes and innocent shrugs.
Roxanne scowled and spun away, biting the tip of her thumb. If she didn't know better, she'd say he was purposefully avoiding her. But that wasn't possible. He wouldn't do that. James knew better anyways- even if he had the Mauraders Map Roxanne knew Hogwarts better. She'd find him eventually. So why the subterfuge?
"James!" Roxanne hollered in the Gryffindor Tower, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
There was a suspicious thump and swear from the boys dorms, and Rox sprinted up the clockwise stairs three at a time, fully prepared to find James and demand some answers.
Instead she saw Lorcan's socked feet sticking up in the air as the boy himself fumbled on the floor, tangled in a combination of red sweater vest and blanket. He swore a few more times before he managed to pull his face through the- was that the sleeve?
"Rox? What's all the yelling for?"
She sighed and went over to help him, yanking the blanket free and knocking his feet to the floor so he at least wasn't upside-down anymore. "Have you seen James?" she asked, rubbing her right shoulder absentmindedly.
"No?" Lorcan eventually gave up on the sweater and took it off, throwing it on the large pile of dirties. "Why, you mad at him?"
"No. Just looking." She set her jaw for a few moments, then admitted in a miniature explosion "All right, alright yes I'm mad at him. He let you take the fall! Why would he do that?"
Her, James, Lorcan and Lysander had been the oldest clump of Legacies to join Hogwarts as a group. School hadn't been easy at first- especially when they'd lost Lysander to Ravenclaw. They all had a distinct lack of skill at interacting with kids who weren't family, and Rox had been the worst. She admitted still was. She could barely hold interest in anything that wasn't related to her cousins or the Scamander twins.
Lorcan and James had been the ones to help her land on her feet. She trusted them more than anyone. Except maybe her big brother, Fred II, and even that was a close call. Roxanne would do anything for her two boys and they her. The idea of any deception or lie between them, even a white one, was abrasive.
"We always get in trouble together, or not at all!"
His lip twitched. "The point this time was that neither of you got in trouble. I mean, this is a bit bigger than our usual stunts."
"Stunts? Stunts?" Roxanne's face grew to the famous Weasley red and her voice echoed again. "We've done pranks, explosions, jitters and stunts- how did we get caught this time? I mean- how did we get it so wrong? We were so certain…"
A little voice pointed out that it was James who had been so certain, and though she'd normally squish it like a bug Rox knew it was right. At the same time she hated doubting family. It was against her nature. Growing up in the limelight, her family's days were filled with a lot of rumors and blank smiles and weaseling adults who'd tried using them to get close to their parents. They'd quickly learned to trust eachother over anything and anyone else, and experience had bonded the Legacy kids close.
"We'll go over it once McGonagall stops watching us so closely."
"Watching you, you mean. While you're in detention. ALONE."
"Rose'll be with me." Lorcan's calm tone was a stark contrast to her lion-worthy growl. "Well, jumping up and going 'I want detention too' is hardly our style, isn't it?"
Roxanne growled under her breath. "It's not like nobody knows the three of us are a team. I'll eat my right toe if McGonagall didn't ask you about James and me being involved."
She picked up the foot in question, pointing it at him.
"Keep your toe, of course she did." Lorcan chuckled and bumped the shoe back to the floor. "But she's got no proof, and neither does anyone else. So you're in the clear."
Rox resumed pacing, still scowling as she admitted. "James is avoiding me. Why would James do that?"
"Well, why are you chasing him? What are you going to ask?"
"Why he's bloody avoiding me, for one! And- and Creevy mentioned that he was the one who insisted we do the sneaking, she was apparently willing to do it herself!"
Lorcan's eyebrows rose. "And you trust her more?"
"NO."
"Okay then- what do you think his answer's going to be?"
Bad, was the first thing that came to mind, but Rox couldn't think of a single example. "I don't know!"
"Then he probably doesn't either." he shrugged and flipped her a coin. "And you know how much he hates pre-game drama. Look- he's already set a meeting for Monday."
She easily caught the flying coin, looking at the date etched into the fake galleon. It was Monday, after Gryffindor's game against Slytherin. "You really think that's it?"
"He hates pre-game drama. Captain in him." he shrugged again. Quidditch was the one subject that James didn't joke about. "And with your track record, you two are likely to be arguing for a week once you start."
"At least." Roxanne agreed, knowing it had been a long time since she'd felt this negative towards her cousin. She tossed Lorcan his coin back with a sigh, then sat down next to him on the bed. "So that's it? I have to wait the whole weekend?"
Lorcan could tell she was still upset, though likely no one else would be able to tell. After a moment he reached into his back for his stash. He'd been saving them for a Christmas sendoff, but maybe he should bring it out now. "Will these help your impatience?"
"Whizz-Bangs!" Rox grinned and looked at the exploding Wheezes products like they were candies from Honeydukes. "How'd you get them in?"
"I have my ways."
"... you hid them in Longbottom's fertilizer deliveries again, didn't you?"
"Anyways…" Lorcan pouted at being discovered so easily while Rox dropped the items in question back into his lap. They still smelled a bit of dragondung. "Think these'll help your impatience?"
"They'll help, yeah." Roxanne smiled and gave him a one-armed hug. She was still upset, but being Gryffindor Beater she could see the merit in her Captain's decision. She would keep the pleasent smile until after their Sunday-evening game against Slytherin.
And come Monday, after they trounced those snakes and had their celebration, James Potter would answer every. single. one. of her questions.
When Zoey opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed what that she felt sick. Her head was pounding and her stomach felt like it was rebelling against everything she'd ever eaten. She moaned lightly, putting a hand over her swollen eyes. How long had she been crying?
...more to the point, when had she fallen asleep? The ice cream had melted into a mess on Myrtle's floor, a sticky orange goop that she avoided stepping in as she got up. Rasputin shifted along her shoulders, still rubbing his face on her cheek. It was the only part of the murtlap without spikes and Zoey appreciated his continued comfort. Honestly, she'd hug him all over again if her arms weren't already matted red with scratches and scabbed-over punctures.
A peek out the windows let her know it was well into the afternoon. She'd been sleeping and crying in here the whole day. Wincing a bit, she looked around for that Myrtle ghost to apologize, but didn't see her anywhere. Or Peeves, actually.
...was it sad, that the only beings who had comforted her were a ghost, a poltergeist that most of the school hated, and Jon's pet?
Zoey decided not to think about it, instead going over the classes she'd missed in her mind. Luckily she hadn't missed Potions- she was still petitioning Slughorn to let her jump ahead a year, and while he was all for it he couldn't make that happen if she didn't have a perfect record on the table. Jon could help her with the History work. Dark Arts… well apparently, Zoey thought sourly, she was going to have Sybble for detention the rest of the semester, so that professor would be easy to track down for make up. Hugo and Lily might give her a hand with Transfiguration and Charms- respectively… that was, of course, if they didn't shun her too with the upcoming 'family meeting' or were mad at her for yelling at their cousin, or scared of her after she'd literally shown claws…
She slapped her cheeks, determined not to spiral back down in a cycle. It was exhausting to cry- Zoey hated it. She went to the sinks to splash her face, moving a sink over when the first faucet seemed to be broken. Zoey plugged the basin and watched the water rise.
Rasputin hissed in distaste and jumped away, probably thinking she was going to shove him in it for a surprise cleaning. The girl had not been above using such tactics in the past.
Instead she dunked her own head, the cold water reinvigorating her. Zoey pushed her hair back from her face, frowning at her reflection in the mirror. Last time she'd seen her hair it had been bright blue. When had it turned gold?
She noticed the bags under her eyes and forgot the curiosity, realizing there was no way she'd be leaving Myrtle's bathroom anytime soon. Her eyes still flashed behind her swollen lids and her fingers sparked from time to time with emotional magic. Not to mention the Zoey in the mirror looked like she'd had a sobfest competition with the moaning ghost herself and won.
The once-bullied girl knew better than to walk through hallways of unfriendlies when looking vulnerable.
It was always this way, Zoey thought sourly as she pinched her cheeks to try and bring more color back to them. Once her tears started they seemed determined to stay. As soon as her mind calmed down about what had set them off it would supply her with something else to worry or fear or get sad about all over again. The problem was there was just too much material in her life that fell under those categories.
Betrayed by a friend? Check, Rose had started that bandwagon. Then Sandy- Lysander had refused her company. Now that she was calmer Zoey admitted that Scorpius and Jon hadn't really pushed her away, but it was unfortunate timing. Jon would tell her the lock code into his rooms in a heartbeat if she asked, and Scorpius… well, it wasn't his fault she'd gotten her hopes up with the possibility he'd come to check on her. And he was secretive by nature, it was normal for him not to share information. It wasn't personal against her.
At least she hoped it wasn't. There were just too many unknowns for her to worry about- and not just about Scorpius Malfoy, though she did wonder what he thought of her display in the Great Hall. Would he also think she'd intentionally been holding back in their tutoring sessions? It wasn't proper magic, being wandless. Zoey honestly hadn't known it could get that powerful.
What did the school think? She'd borderline attacked Gryffindor with that uncontrolled explosion- thank the stars above that nobody'd been hurt by her magic. Not to mention she'd insulted every one of them with her callous comment. Zoey wouldn't take it back. It had been true, after all… though she did regret the way she'd said it. There were good and bad ways to go about things, and that had definitely been bad. Gryffindor as a whole probably hated her now. Judging by the debate she'd walked in on the Ravenclaws were still deciding how to react. She had no clue what Slytherin and Hufflepuff would think.
As far as the 'Legacy' family went Zoey hoped they didn't all hate her. She hoped Lily, Hugo, and Albus would forgive her words against their cousin. Rose was definitely terrified of her, if her tears were anything to judge by. She wondered if anyone else was scared of her now.
Terror. Fear. She remembered the sensation of her magic releasing, bursting past every obstructing barrier that she'd thought magic had. It was… Jon described it as gaining a whole nother level of existence, of feeling unstoppable. 'Like a god among men', even if he looked more like a demon than anything else and needed her help calming down from it. It hadn't been like that for her.
It had indeed been a head-spinning rush, but it felt more like gaining another sense. A Sixth Sense, Zoey thought wryly, remembering the movie but knowing it was nothing alike. Instead of seeing the dead- which wasn't that unusual among wizards, what with ghosts walking through the halls and all- she'd… it had felt like her sense of touch had gone beyond her own skin. If she wanted she could know the form and texture of anything from across a room.
At the same time it had felt like she'd been stretching a neglected muscle that had been cramped in an awkward position all her life, a painful kind of relaxation that had made Zoey almost swoon with relief.
Zoey blinked rapidly as she realized she was still feeling that way, like there was a part of herself that was extended beyond her body. But… she wasn't feeling much from the sense now. When she'd been in the Great Hall she had felt exactly where every person in there was positioned, even the tables and food…
But not the benches, or the goblets, the Ravenclaw's astute mind chimed in. So why did this 'sixth' sense tell her about some things but not others? Eager to keep herself focused on something other than her problems she turned around slowly, closing her eyes to test what she could sense without them.
The lights- every lit torch hummed warmly against her senses, even the ones that were off smelled lightly of smoke. Zoey knew they'd turn themselves on when the sun set and it got darker in here.
She couldn't feel the ceiling, floor, or walls themselves… the torches just sort of… hovered in her mind. Like a videogame with a glitch, where some things existed but the unloaded items were invisible on the screen.
Rasputin, she realized. The magical creature poked the edges of her senses, his every echoing claw scratch against tile accompanied by a waft of cinnamon. She frowned a bit. What was he doing by the ice cream?
She cracked an eye open to see him licking up the melted mess, pumpkin cream smeared all over his face. The murtlap paused to lick his lips and flash her a toothy grin before resuming his snack.
Well. At least someone was enjoying it.
And a sink, Zoey realized. She turned her green gaze to the sink that hadn't worked. "Weird." She blinked rapidly at the oddity. "Why can I sense just one sink and not any of the others?"
She moved to stand in front of it, Rasputin returning to her shoulders with orange cream dripping from his whiskers. "Do you have any ideas, Raz?"
Unsurprisingly, he didn't answer. Though he did lean forward as though intrigued himself.
"It is interesting." The Ravenclaw agreed, giving in to her curiosity. Her fingers sparked as she reached a hand out to inspect the sink, her magic instantly informing her that the innocuous plumbing was built with a magical barrier similar to that which hid the entrance to Jon's rooms.
Zoey frowned, having difficulty getting a sense of the slippery barrier that continuously tried to slide away from her touch. It took a while to sooth the riled enchantment, gently stroking it so it felt less aggressive against her intrusion. This magic was definitely shaped as a lock of some kind.
"Now what do you open?" She asked aloud, stiffening when she felt some part of the barrier click like a release mechanism. Such as a door.
Or a trap.
Zoey jumped back and away when the sink began to move, dashing all the way into one of the stalls as Rasputin dug half-inch claws into her shoulders to maintain his perch. She silently berated her own silliness even as she stepped atop the rim of the toilet so her feet couldn't be seen. Honestly. As if a small latch could really defend her from a magical trap. Still, placebos- it gave the Ravenclaw courage to peer through the crack of the frail door.
She watched nervously as the sink- well, sunk, right out of sight and the ones next to it slid aside as though in invitation. Zoey waited one heartbeat, then two, and only when nothing else seemed imminent did she cautiously step out of the stall to approach the tunnel that had been revealed. It sloped down very steeply, and when she put a hand on the rim to try and see through its inky blackness she sensed that the enchantment was pleased that she'd opened it. If an old enchantment could even feel anything, but Zoey personally thought they did.
The young Malam pulled her head back out and raised a brown eyebrow at Rasputin. "Who puts a slide in a bathroom?"
And here it is, the unofficial 'part 2' of last chapter. I know 'Now You See' was very Rose/Zoey heavy (obviously), so I wanted to write the responses of everyone else as well as a few awesome and LONG AWAITED plot progressions. Seriously, you have no idea how long I've been prepared to write these. Unless your answer is Ch 1, because then yes, you do!
BTW, the two song's playing in Jon's office were Frank Sinatra's Come fly with me and I've got the world on a string. I do not own them.
Fifty house points to the first person who reviews!
-E