Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

Chapter 9: The Journals

Shortly after four o'clock the next day, Harry and Albus apparated to Malfoy Manor. Ron had planned to attend as well until Hermione ordered him home to tend to a sick Rose. The manor gates opened readily and Malfoy himself greeted Harry at the door.

"Draco," Harry said neutrally, "you have met my son, Albus."

Malfoy nodded shortly. "Please come in. We will take tea in the drawing room."

Harry watched as Albus took in his surroundings, from the paintings on the walls to the ornate decorations. "It's so big," he said at last. "Big and dark, just like Scorpius said."

Harry gave a cursory glance around. "It looks the same as it did in the war. Have you changed anything, Draco?"

Malfoy stiffened. "This is still my father's home, Potter. I have only made changes as restorations became necessary. The chandelier you destroyed, for example."

Harry suppressed the memory of the house elf Dobby destroying the chandelier. "But your father will never come home to it. He's sentenced for life."

"No thanks to you, Potter." They entered the same room in which Hermione had been tortured. It had been redone and looked much friendlier than Harry remembered, though the atmosphere could have been due to the absence of Malfoy's father and late aunt, Bellatrix LeStrange. When everyone had been served, Malfoy asked, "Why is my mother in Azkaban, Potter? Her crimes were no worse than your mother-in-law's."

Harry gaped. "Molly never tortured anyone, never hurt anyone, never did anything wrong."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Killing my aunt isn't wrong then?"

"She was a death eater. She tortured people for pleasure. She was evil."

"You named your child after Severus Snape. How is my aunt evil when she did neither more nor less than he?" Albus straightened at the mention of his namesake.

"Snape helped me in the war. It was partly because of him that I was able to defeat Voldemort."

Malfoy shot to his feet. "My mother saved your life, Potter, and for what? To rot in Azkaban? Is her sacrifice worth nothing to you? You're a bloody selfish bastard."

Harry forced himself to breathe slowly. "Draco, I vouched for your mother at her trial. I fought against her sentencing and when the Wizengamot insisted, I requested a short sentence. You were there. You know this. Your mother thanked me before the aurors led her away."

Malfoy glared for over a minute before sitting again and taking another sip of tea. He closed his eyes and for a moment, Harry thought, he looked completely defeated. "Two months ago, my mother was considered for release, as she is every five years. She has been a model prisoner, has done everything they require of her without complaint. There was no reason at all for them to deny her release, except that no one cared except me, and I'm nothing but a bloody former Death Eater."

Harry blinked and said quietly, "I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't know your mother was eligible for release. I'll look into it tomorrow."

"I thought you were in charge of the aurors."

"I am, but Azkaban is a separate division. Draco, I have no direct jurisdiction, but I do have access to the files. I may be able to appeal to the Wizengamot to reconsider. That's the best I can do right now. You asked me to bring Albus."

Draco regarded Albus silently as he finished his cup and poured another. "Yes. I did." He spoke slowly, thoughtfully. After a moment, he stood and walked to his desk, where he picked up a book. "Two days ago, I opened Scorpius' school trunk. I don't know why I did not do so earlier, but when I did, I found this. I gave it to him during our stay in Turkey. Do you recognize it?"

Albus nodded. "It's Scorpius' journal. Why?"

Malfoy looked directly at Albus. "It is one of two. Do you have the other?"

Albus opened his knapsack and lifted out his own journal. "He gave it to me the first day back to school in January. I write in it every day."

"You write to him?"

"Yes, of course. But he doesn't write back anymore."

"Write back?" Harry asked, looking between them. "What are you talking about?"

Malfoy returned to his seat and set the journal on the table in front of Harry. "They are called Kitab Atif Samar. It's Arabic, means something like paired journals. We learned of them in a small Turkish village we visited and Scorpius begged me to buy him a pair. I asked around about them and finally relented. I never thought your son would receive the other."

Albus hugged his own to his chest, as if afraid someone would take it away. Harry said, "Tell me everything you know about these journals."

Malfoy shrugged. "They are designed so that when someone writes in one, every mark they make is transferred to the other, so that the users can communicate anytime and anywhere. They have been used mostly in matchmaking, to determine whether two individuals are suited for marriage. They are designed so that you only notice them if you have someone in mind to give them to and if that person has the potential to be your lifelong lover."

"Like soul mates."

"No. They are keyed to potential only. To share journals does not guarantee marriage, but every pair that has married has been both faithful and happy until death, so they say. Those who do not marry always remain close friends." Malfoy looked at Albus again and shook his head. "I had thought he would give it to a girl. I did not think giving it to a boy was possible."

Albus took out his Christmas card and read it aloud, his voice shaky.

My dearest Albus,
I saw this in Turkey and just knew I had to give it to you, but convincing Father to buy it for me took ages. He thinks I fancy a girl in our class and wanted it for her, but honestly, I can't imagine any girl I could trust with it. I will explain more about it later.
Love, Scorpius PS. You asked about my family's peacocks, so I drew them for you. Don't you dare laugh or I'll never draw you anything else.

When Albus had finished, his voice cracking and his eyes watery, Harry turned back to Malfoy. Malfoy's face was buried in his hands and he shook silently. "Draco? Are you okay?"

Malfoy did not lift his head. "The day after we got back from Turkey, Scorpius sat on the porch out back, heedless of the snow, and practiced drawing the peacocks. He was upset that their feathers looked so ragged and dirty, but he drew them anyway. He wouldn't tell me why he was so keen to draw them, why he cared what they looked like, though I asked several times. I miss him so much."

"So do I," Albus said quietly. "I'm sure he misses us too." Several moments of silence passed before anyone spoke again. Albus asked, "Mr Malfoy, did you find a one quid coin with a Welsh dragon on one side in Scorpius' trunk?"

"No, why?"

Albus shook his head. "Just curious."

Malfoy, Harry assumed, was not curious. He did not inquire further. Instead, he started telling Harry about his visit with the Nott family. At last, he got to the point. "Theo's spoken to his father. He still recalls the location of the training camp, but Macnair is the secret keeper, not him, and Macnair can never mention it. He said he could lead you to it, but only if you grant him complete immunity."

Harry rubbed his scar in frustration. "I can't. Only the Minister can make that decision. I'll submit a request, though, and see what happens. Did he say what it's near?"

"Not that Theo mentioned. The only reason he even said that much was that Pansy invoked their missing son."

"Did anyone else know about the camp?"

"Not that they mentioned. The Dark Lord would have, but I don't know who he would have told. The Carrows, maybe, but I don't know what happened to them."

"I'll continue my inquiries. Meanwhile, we are looking for any news that someone has tried to smuggle children out of the country. Nothing magic-related has turned up so far, but a couple muggle cases, including a drug-smuggling operation, may be connected."

"You think my son is a drug mule?"

"I don't know what to think, Malfoy. None of this makes sense and everyone has a different theory. Drug mule, prostitute, child soldier, slave, ransom, blackmail ... I have no idea. All I do know is that Albus swears he's still alive, which means there's still a chance we'll find him."

Malfoy gazed steadily at Harry, but his eyes watered and his cheeks glistened with silent tears. "Please bring him home, Potter."

"I plan to." Harry realized he had nothing more to say, so he said, "We should go before Ginny starts to worry. Will you be okay?"

Malfoy nodded. "I'm scared."

"I know. I'll tell you the moment I know anything."

~O~

19 July 2018

Scorpius,

I went to your house again today. It's a bloody huge mansion and I'd get lost in five minutes. It felt weird without you there, like I was trespassing. Your dad was there this time. He asked about my journal and showed me yours. He told me about them too, but he seemed okay with you giving me one.

Your dad was crying. I've never seen any grown man cry and I felt like an intruder, like I should look away or leave or something. He was crying about you and your gran. Did you know your gran should have been released from Azkaban this year? Dad will get her out, then you can come home to her, too.

I won't tell you all the things Dad thinks might have happened to you. They're too awful to think about.

I miss you and love you so much.

Albus

Author's Note: Please review. I never know if receiving so little feedback means the story is really good or really bad. Also, it's my birthday today.