CHAPTER EIGHT
Scorpius tries new things.
I wake up choking. Waterlogged lungs struggle to gasp each rattling breath. My head pounds and my eyes feel stung and unfocused.
"Shh, tu vas bien," someone says in a soothing voice. "You will be alright."
Professor Beaulieu presses me back down onto the crisp sheets and I wince from the sharp pain along my back. My torso is wound with bandages but the pillow feels cool against my cheek.
Lin is sat up at another bed while a Healer dabs paste onto a gash above her brow, but she looks more or less unharmed and gives me a dizzy sort of smile.
"Hey," I croak. "How did you do? I'm sorry I missed you."
"I was getting a seven on average," She shrugs, but looks pleased with herself anyway. "Hervé had ten."
"'Course he did," I grumble. "Do you… do you know what I got?"
Lin looks embarrassed and shakes her head that she doesn't know. That must indicate that I didn't fare well, and I can't help but wonder whether it's possible to achieve negative points. It doesn't seem like either of the other champions had to be rescued.
"A five average," Beaulieu supplies for her. "Nuzzing to be ashamed of."
"But you got the horn!" Lin says, jabbing a finger at my bedside. "It is good! You can be making it up in next task!"
Right now, I'm just glad to be alive. Future tasks are exactly the last thing I want to think about.
"Come on, let me through!" I hear Rosie's voice shouting outside, and a second later, she's bounding through the flap door out of breath. "Scor!" I'm scooped up into a flurry of red hair and the gashes along my back smart. "I was so scared! And then when they got you out of the water, you were unconscious! I thought… I thought you might have…"
All at once, she's sobbing into my shoulder and I realize I've never seen her cry before.
"I'm ok," I groan, tenderly lying back down. "Was all there?"
Rosie bites her lip. "I saw him leave right after you got rescued."
Professor Beaulieu administers a potion for my pain while Rosie gives me a blow-by-blow of the other champions. I'm hardly surprised that Hervé performed perfectly—knocking out the gargouille with a spell and then swimming down to retrieve the horn—but I find myself rather more impressed with Lin.
"You jumped on his back?" I splutter and she blushes. "That's, like… Wow. You're really brave."
"Or really stupid," she mumbles. "I was losing points for damaging real horn when I pulled off gold. And then I was hitting my head when I jumped back onto platform."
"Yeah, well," I sigh. "At least you got out on your own."
It isn't lost on me that I didn't survive this by myself. Now on the other side, I'm coming in dead last.
With the rest of the classes canceled for the day, Lin convinces Rosie and I to join the after party aboard the Durmstrang ship. I take care crossing the slippery dock, not keen on falling back into that terrible inlet, while Lin leads us onto the deck.
Inside, mottled wood sweats from humidity. The narrow stairwell rocks and lurches as the ship sways with the rhythm of the wind and I grip the banister tight while descending the slick steps. All around us, the structure creaks and groans, sometimes whistling where the breeze finds a gap in the planks.
Everything is gloomy and underlit, so I'm surprised when Lin pushes open a door to dazzling light.
"Hallo!" explodes a resounding chorus.
A magical fire roars in a hearth and more than a dozen students grin and cheer to see their champion return. The space is decently large, resembling a sort of parlour, but all of the furniture has been carved into the wood—presumably to keep it from sliding around during voyage. Long built-in sofas curve against the walls and the far corner points at an extreme angle. I gather we're in the bow of the ship.
"Sju, sju, sju, sju!" the Durmstrang crowd begins to chant, punching their fists in the air or clapping Lin on the back.
"That is meaning 'seven,'" she explains. "They are happy I'm coming in second."
Rosie and I dawdle near the door while the others celebrate, but no one seems to be bothered by the fact that we're here.
"You are Scorpius Malfoy?" a bloke with a thick German accent asks and extends his hand. "You vere being very clever today tricking your gargouille."
"Erm, thanks," I shrug. "This is my friend Rosie, by the way."
"Rosie?" he says, bowing to kiss her hand. "Schön."
Those friends of Lin's that I've met already soon seek us out and press drinks into our hands.
"You haff had Akvavit?" Pavel asks, pouring honey-coloured liquor into a small glass. "It is how to drinking the Nordic way."
I shake my head 'no' while Rosie enthusiastically accepts the shot.
"You drink this first," Nastja explains, cracking open a bottle of dark beer. "Then you follow with Akvavit."
Rosie gives me a nudge so a take a delicate sip from the bottle and try not to pull a face. It tastes a bit like chocolate, only disgusting. The Akvavit is oddly herby by contrast, but scorching, and leaves my throat feeling rough.
"It's good!" Pavel claps me on the back and I cough.
The sound of a wireless warbles to life and Lin twists the knobs past what sounds like French news before landing on a pop station. Cranking up the volume, dance-rock swells inside the ship.
"What do you think it does?" Rosie asks a few hours later, turning Lin's golden horn over in her hand.
Empty bottles and glasses scatter the tables and Celestina Warbeck croons from the wireless. The atmosphere of the part has begun to relax and we're all sat about discussing the hard-won clues.
There are designs carved into the horn, all abstract swirls, and it's hard to tell whether they're supposed to mean something. The twist of gold is hollow with a small opening at the point.
"Maybe." Rosie frowns. "It's like, a horn."
There's a brief pause before everyone starts laughing. Rosie sticks out her tongue.
"No, I mean, like—in the last Tournament, the clue was a sort of song, so maybe this…" She raises the golden cone to her lips like a trumpet and blows.
A farty sort of noise comes out.
"Or maybe not," she laughs.
"No, that was actually pretty clever," I say.
"Enough of that all." Pavel slams a deck of cards on the table with a bang. "Champions vorry about next task tomorrow. Today, ve celebrate for Durmstrang."
"And Hogwarts," Lin says.
"And Hogvarts," he agrees.
"What are we playing?" Rosie scoots closer in her seat.
"Zauberkelch," Nastja says. "'Wizard's Cup.' You will be needing a drink, Scor."
I try to tell her I'm alright with water, but the others adamantly shake their heads. Lin promises to mix me something mild and returns with a fizzing glass of mead and mineral water. The drink turns out to be pretty good—all sweet and bubbly rather than bitter or burny.
Pavel lays the cards face down in a circle around an ornate old goblet. There seems to be a lot less of them than normal, maybe thirty or forty, and Nastja explains that it's a German "Tarock" deck. The Durmstrang students spend a while trying to explain the rules before giving up and insisting we'll get the hang of it.
Everyone unanimously agrees that Lin should go first, so she blushes as she draws the first card at random.
"Ach, König," Pavel says, glancing down at her king.
She shrugs and sloshes some beer into the goblet. I'm next, so I follow her lead and pick up another card. A nine. I blink at the others for some direction.
"With this card, we all lifting three fingers," Nastja says, raising a hand. "And are saying something we never doing. If you have done, then you drink."
"Oh!" Rosie cries. "'Never Have I Ever'! I'm shite at this game."
"Alright." I take a moment to think. "Never have I ever been drunk."
Everyone looks surprised at me and takes a swig from their cups.
"Don't worry," Pavel smirks. "We fix that."
Nastja's up next, so she smiles coyly and straightens her back. "Never I have ever kissed boy."
The other girls each lower a finger and down another gulp.
"Erm, Scor." Rosie nudges me. "Drink."
Panic blooms, but her comment seems all but ignored by the group. I blush and take a dainty sip of my cocktail, hoping to move on quickly.
It takes Rosie a long time to think of something she hasn't done. Eventually she gives up and settles for mundane ('never have I ever been to Germany.') To nobody's surprise, she's the first to lose the round.
The game gets sillier the longer we play. Soon, we're all laughing so much we strike out of even simple tasks like word association. Pavel's been enchanted to sing every word he says and Rosie has to stand up and do a daft little jig every time she swears. Which is a lot.
"Oh, Koonig," I say, pulling up another king, and splash some of my drink into the goblet.
"No, wait." Lin counts the discarded cards on the table. "That was fourth king."
"Fourth king you do not add to cup," Pavel explains to the tune of Auld Lang Syne. "You drink cup."
I can't help but gasp, appalled, and everybody laughs. Our goblet has become an unholy marriage of beer, Akvavit, and something that sounds disturbingly like 'glug.' That I've added my own mead and soda to the mix can't possibly help any.
"You do not have to drink, if don't want to." Lin shrugs.
"No, you definitely have to." Rosie grins.
All at once, my back's being clapped and my hair's being ruffled. The Durmstrang crowd offer nudges of encouragement, merrily joining in when Rosie starts a chant of, "drink, drink, drink, drink!"
Fists beat against the table as the chant speeds up. I feel giddy and overwhelmed by the attention. This is most definitely what Madley was talking about when she sat the Hufflepuffs down in third year for a lecture about Peer Pressure.
"Fine! Ok!" I cry, scooping up the goblet from the centre of the table.
Everybody breaks into applause as I raise the foul-smelling drink to my lips. It might be the most complicated thing I've ever tasted. More like a potion than something you'd want to drink recreationally. The flavor is at once syrupy, bitter, spicy, and creamy, and the carbonation doesn't make it any easier to choke down. Stray drops dribble to my chin as I chug.
Finally, I drain the last of it, and I feel my cheeks and ears flush hot. There's something like a burp in my chest but it doesn't release.
"Oof." I lean back in my chair, only mildly dizzy. "I, uh. I think I need some air."
The others cheer and jostle my shoulders like I've done something impressive. I might be a crap TriWizard champion, but at least I succeed in downing questionable concoctions.
Victory?
"I come with you," Lin says, sliding out from the bench.
The Durmstrang champion gives me a steadying hand up the stairs and the cold, night air on deck comes as a relief. Feeling a little wonky after my monstrous cocktail, I ask if we can take a break on solid ground. It's hard to tell whether it's the liquor or the waves making me unsteady.
We perch ourselves at the edge of the dock, legs dangling over the water, and Lin surprises me by producing a pack of cigarettes.
"Oh, blimey," I say while she stabs one between her lips. "Do you think I can have one of those?"
"They are herbal—Weasley's Wheezes." She shrugs. "I trying not to smoke."
"Probably just as well," I say, accepting one. "I'm trying not to smoke, too."
She and I puff in silence for a minute, and the herbal cigarette is somewhat less satisfying than the real thing. Then again, it gives me something to do with my hands and an excuse to just sit outside for a minute and breathe. That's most of what attracts me to smoking in the first place.
"Can I ask you question?" she pipes up. "Alboos—you are boyfriends with him?"
"Ha." I furrow my brows and take another drag. "Honestly, I'm not sure. He never properly ended it, or told me it was over, but… I dunno. It seems pretty over."
Saying it out loud hurts a lot more than I'd expected. As if saying it makes it more real.
"Huh." Lin frowns into the distance. "Is it… Maybe just because we are talking of him, but is that Alboos over there?"
"Wh—" At first I think she's making some sort of uncharacteristically terrible joke. Then I turn, following her gaze into the distance.
Someone is running, sprinting towards us. I almost don't want to believe it, but there's no question that the silhouette is Al. Panicking, I drop my cigarette into the inlet, then feel a surge of guilt for polluting the pristine grounds. I wonder how practical it would be to try a summoning charm to retrieve it, but before I can organize my thoughts, Al is upon us.
I half think he might be coming just to punch me in the face. My heart does a somersault to see him anyway.
His eyes blaze but his face is inscrutable. I'm too stunned to say something. Too scared to say something, lest I upset whatever conjured him here and he vanishes.
"Come with me," is all he says before turning back around.
The turn of events is too sudden and strange and ironic to wrap my head around. My eyes swivel between Lin, and the sight of Al receding again into the distance. She looks as surprised as I am. I manage only a grimace before wordlessly following him into the night.
I can't help but feel like Orpheus' lover, the way I trail behind while he presses on without looking back. But in this version, I'm the one terrified of losing him again. As the legend goes: this time, forever.
Climbing aboard the train, the dining carriage feels sweltering after the brisk night air but I don't stop to unfasten my cloak. Al doesn't break pace as he twists up, up the decks. I follow him just as far as his new bedroom but pause when he steps inside. It's hard not to feel like I'm not invited in.
"Close the door behind you." He waves a hand and I'm overjoyed to oblige. "So, I haven't wanted to look at this."
The damning Daily Prophet flutters onto the bed and I avert my eyes. Al paces, running his hands through his hair. I hang my head, but I can't help but notice the fervent energy radiating off of him. There's anger there, but somehow, it isn't directed at me.
"But then, seeing you today during the task… I dunno. I went back and… Here, look." He stabs a finger at the page. "The clock."
I hesitantly squint down before his green gaze meets mine again, full to brimming with meaning. I don't follow.
"Midnight," he says. "Just after midnight… I'm—Merlin—I'm so sorry I doubted you."
Recognition clicks.
"Scor, You were with me at midnight. You have an alibi!"
Well.
At least we know I didn't put my name into the Goblet of Fire.