1 Day

"Millicent Bulstrode is the nosiest person I've ever met," Draco said the next morning. They'd met in Harry's office where Albus paced back and forth, gulping down multiple cups of coffee. Draco, who had clearly not slept at all, had compiled a list of pure-blood extremists he believed could still be 'fighting the good fight' from his father's notes.

"She wasn't as awful as some of the others," Draco continued, "but her father died in Azkaban last year. She might know something and be willing to talk."

"We're still getting the information from the patrols last night," said Harry. "And a sketch artist is with Ainsley now. I'm told she had quite the meltdown last night."

"What are we waiting for?" Albus asked.

"Al, this is an official investigation," Harry said. "We can't bring a teenager with us."

"Are you serious right now?"

"He should come with us, Potter," Draco said. "He's... family, to Scorpius."

Albus and Harry looked at each other for a long time.

"I will go insane if you make me wait here or at home," Albus said finally.

"You can't have another outburst like yesterday," Harry warned. Albus nodded in agreement and Harry grabbed his wand from his desk.

"Let's go."


Scorpius was placed on the floor in the drawing room and waited for Travers to unlock his restraints. He was tired. His hair was full of dirt and grime, and his stomach was growling loudly several times a minute.

Daphne strode in with a smile on her face.

"Good morning, nephew."

Scorpius glared at her in response.

"Now, let me remind you that while your hands are free, we won't hesitate to use drastic measures if you try to escape," Daphne said.

"And what if I level this house just to spite you?"

"Then someone you love will be harmed," she said simply. "I believe Sewlyn's last owl said that your father was at the Ministry with Potter, so we know where they are."

Scorpius sighed, relieved.

They're looking for me.

"Now," Daphne said. "If you'll give me a demonstration of your powers, we can figure out where to begin."

"No," Scorpius said defiantly. "I won't."

"Pity," Daphne replied. "Travers?"

Travers stepped forward, withdrawing his wand.

"Wait," said Scorpius. "Just wait."

He looked away from her and weighed his options. If his father and Harry were looking for him, he just had to stay alive and sane until they got to him.

"I'm not... I'm not in complete control of everything," Scorpius admitted.

"Do your best," said Daphne. Her voice was cold and clinical.

Scorpius looked around the room for something he could use, and settled on a spindly, dusty chair in the corner. He stared at it and held out his hand, imagining light the same color as his skin reaching out and wrapping around the leg - an extension of himself pulling the chair closer.

It took a few moments of concentration, but the chair started to move towards him slowly, scraping across the floor.

"How did you injure the Taylor boy?"

"We were dueling and he used an illegal move," Scorpius said. "I reacted."

"Stand up," Daphne said. Scorpius didn't like where this was going, but he rose to his feet anyway. She waved Travers forward, and he moved to face Scorpius.

"I don't have my wand," Scorpius said.

"You'll get your wand back when you've proven some measure of loyalty," Daphne said.

"I can't block -"

She waved her hand for Travers to continue, and he shot a basic shocking curse in Scorpius' direction. He dodged out of the way, tripping over his own feet.

"Hey!"

Travers did it again, and Scorpius jumped behind a misplaced chair.

"This is ridiculous," he said.

"Then fight back," Daphne urged calmly.

Travers continued shooting curses at him, moving around the room to get better angles. Scorpius leapt behind a couch, dislodging a dust cloud that made him falter and cough. Travers' next curse caught him in the arm, and he yelped in pain.

"I can't fight him without my wand," Scorpius insisted.

Daphne sighed and shook her head. "You can. And you will."

She placed her hand on Traver's shoulder and said something to him quietly, and Scorpius read her lips.

Crucio.

"Shit."

Travers muttered the curse under his breath and Scorpius ducked. The force hit the drapery behind him, dislodging another layer of dust and dirt. He ran and hid behind the desk to dodge another curse, but Travers was cornering him. When he got close, Scorpius kicked the chair under his feet, and Travers tripped while Scorpius scrambled away across the carpet.

But he wasn't fast enough. Just as he was getting to his feet, Travers caught him in the back and white hot pain spread through his bones as he fell back to the floor. Determined to keep from screaming, Scorpius gritted his teeth and growled, and the instant the pain subsided, he held his hand out, thinking the word confringo, and Travers flew backwards into a bookshelf.

"That's more like it," said Daphne.


"Draco," said Millicent Bulstrode, opening her door. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Millicent Bulstrode was about as unattractive as her name, Albus observed, but her London townhouse was absolutely gorgeous and modern - not at all what he was expecting when Draco had outlined her pure-blood status.

"I was hoping you could answer a few questions for us, Millicent," Draco said. "If you have a minute."

"For you, I have two," said Millicent, stepping back to let them in. She looked at Harry and Albus as if she hadn't noticed them before.

"Potter?"

"Miss Bulstrode," Harry said. "It's been a long time."

"Indeed," she said as they stepped into the foyer. "This must be your son, Albus."

"In the flesh," said Albus.

Millicent ushered them into her sitting room, but Draco wasn't keen on wasting time.

"Millicent, my son has been kidnapped," he said as they took their seats on her couch.

"Draco, I'm sorry," she said.

"When he was taken, the kidnappers said something about family duty and they called the person with him a blood traitor," he explained.

Millicent looked to Albus.

"Was that you?"

Albus looked to Harry, confused.

"I read the Prophet daily," she admitted.

"It wasn't me," Albus said. "It should have been."

"Do you know of anyone in the old pure-blood circles that would take a young man under the guise of family duty?"

"Draco, I've barely spoken to anyone in years," Millicent said. "I only have contact with a few witches and wizards. I've been living in the Muggle world since Hogwarts. Believe me, if I could, I would have stricken my address from the Ministry records."

Draco sighed and looked down, his head in his hands.

"Have you heard anything? Who do you still talk to?"

"I have drinks with Tracey Davis every once in a while," she said. "And Pansy Parkinson sends me an owl whenever she needs something. Usually money."

Harry glanced at Draco, but Albus wasn't sure why.

"Millicent," Draco began, folding his hands and looking at her earnestly. "I know I was not kind to you at Hogwarts."

Millicent shifted in her seat, uncomfortable.

"And I had no reason to be so cruel, and I am very sorry about that. But if you know anything - if you hear anything, please send me an owl."

"Of course," she agreed. "I'll keep a look out. And I'll ask Pansy and Tracey to do the same."

"I doubt Pansy will care," Draco said, standing. Harry and Albus followed suit. "But thank you. I'd appreciate it."

Millicent showed them out with her deepest apologies to Draco, and wished Harry luck in the investigation.

"You don't need me," Harry said. "You just have to go around and apologize to everyone you pissed off at Hogwarts. That'll put you in every wizarding house in England."

Draco glared at him.

"Who is Pansy Parkinson?" Albus asked, trailing behind the two men.

"My girlfriend from Hogwarts," Draco said, his voice so firm that Albus knew the conversation was over.


Back at the Ministry of Magic, they found Hermione waiting in Harry's office.

"We got the information back from Ainsley Greengrass," Hermione said. "We have an ID on the two men she saw."

Harry took the report from her and looked at it.

"Hugh Travers and Angus Selwyn?"

"Brother and son of Death Eaters," Hermione said. "Pure-blood extremists."

"And the third person?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Well, this gives us a place to start."

Albus collapsed into Harry's desk chair. With so little sleep, his strength was nearly gone.

"We'll go now," Harry said. Draco nodded.

Albus stood up slowly. His body was protesting, but this was the most information they'd had - so he forced himself up. Harry watched him carefully.

"Albus, maybe you should -"

"I'm going. That's it."


The Travers mansion was dilapidated at best. They appeared just outside the gates, and as Harry, Albus, and Draco walked up the long driveway, Draco lamented the state of the house.

"My parents made me go to parties here as a child," he said. "It's a shame what's happened to these properties."

"It's better than the pure-bloods having all the wealth," Harry said. "More equity."

"I agree," Draco said, his hand brushing the dead bushes that lined the drive. "But this place was so beautiful once."

Albus looked up at the massive brown house - its once-grand pillars now the color of mud and its windows so dirty they were scarcely windows.

Harry knocked on the door, and Albus heard it echo.

"Does anyone still live here?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head.

"I have no idea."

"It would be a great place to keep a kidnapping victim if they don't," Harry said thoughtfully, studying the door. "I wonder how we can get in."

Harry turned at the sound of breaking glass behind him to see Albus kicking his way through one of the windows.

"Albus!"

"Repair it later," he said, kicking out another pane and climbing through.

"I guess he gets that from his mother too?" Draco asked.

"No," Harry replied, stepping down into the grass and through the window's flower bed. "No, that he gets from me."

Albus stepped into what he assumed was the mansion's dining hall. It was covered in dust, and the furniture was broken down.

"What happened?"

"I don't think anyone has been here for years," Harry said.

Draco ran his fingers across the table to evaluate the level of dust.

"I think you're right."

Harry held out his wand, and whispered "hommenum revelio."

Nothing happened.

"Let's look around," said Draco. "Though I have no idea when the last time Hugh Travers was here."

"Do you even know him?" Albus asked.

"I think we met once a long time ago," Draco said. "If I remember correctly, he was several years older than us."

Albus walked into the atrium, where the dust was undisturbed, and then ran down each adjacent hallway, clutching his wand.

"Nothing," he reported back to Draco as Harry climbed the stairs to the second floor.

"I didn't expect there would be," Draco said. "Nothing's ever that easy."

Albus looked around. The chandelier above them was dripping with spider webs.

"Why would anyone want to hurt Scorpius?" he asked.

"Because of his last name," Draco said. "It's the only thing about him to hate."

"Why hasn't there been a ransom note?"

Draco shook his head and looked at Albus, and he realized Draco had barely looked at him all day - and now he knew why. It was entirely too difficult to look into the eyes of someone in as much pain as himself.

"I don't think this is about money," Draco said. "If it was, I'd give ever last knut in my vault to bring him home."

Albus had to look away, and he stared at the place Harry had disappeared, waiting for him to return, and when he re-emerged, he had a single piece of paper in his hands.

"There's nothing up here," he said. "This place was cleaned out, but I found this on the floor."

Harry handed Draco the photo and Albus looked over their shoulders. It was a dusty group of people standing on a lawn - a family photo. Harry pointed to a young man - maybe Albus' age - with a goatee.

"Is that Travers?" Albus asked.

"Yes," Harry said.

Albus decided he hated goatees.

"And that," Draco said, pointing, "is my father and there is Astoria's father."

Lucius Malfoy stared back at them from Hugh Travers' side. His long blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail that laid over his shoulder, dressed from head to toe in black. The resemblance between Lucius, Draco, and Scorpius was remarkable and his chest hurt looking at Scorpius' grandfathers moving around in the photo, shifting about before the camera.

He followed Draco's finger to the other man who also looked like Scorpius - a man with prematurely-gray hair and Scorpius' perfect, straight nose.

"Are you related to them?"

"We're all related somehow... the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

There were at least fifteen other people in the photo - all dressed perfectly, but Albus was staring at the two that reminded him of Scorpius. He wrapped his fingers around the amulet around his neck absently, feeling over its edges.

"We have to find him," he said quietly.


Scorpius, who had never been hungry a day in his life, discovered the harsh reality that eating a bit when you're starving can only make you feel worse.

Daphne was bent on breaking him, but as he rolled himself into the blanket on the floor, Scorpius reminded himself that his father and Albus were out there, looking for him.

But I don't even know where I am, Scorpius thought. How on earth are they supposed to figure it out?

Scorpius closed his eyes, imagining himself back in the Slytherin dorm the morning before, with Albus laughing and pulling on his boots.

It had only been a day. He could hold on as long as he had to.