Chapter Three

'Good evening, Albus. Come and have a seat.'

Albus loitered awkwardly in the doorway for a second longer, and then shrugged and entered Professor Chang's study. She was sat at her desk, and pulled out the chair beside her, indicating for him to sit in it with one delicate hand. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, he sat down beside her. She was very close all of a sudden, and he could smell her sweet perfume.

'What are we doing today, Professor?' he asked, trying not to look at her for too long. He'd always laughed at the boys who mooned after her, but now that she was up close, he had to admit that she really was very attractive.

'We need to fix this block you have about non-verbal spells. They're really quite simple, but you need to learn to control your magic properly. To … dominate it, maybe. So, let's take it back to some simpler spells.'

She opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a feather, placing it atop a small stack of books. 'So, Albus, please make this feather hover in the air in front of us. Without magic.'

He hadn't had to think about how to make objects fly since he was eleven years old, yet here he was feeling his heart race with nervousness as he raised his wand and pointed it at the feather. It was clear in his head, his mind screamed Wingardium Leviosa, yet the feather only twitched once, and then rested on the books again, motionless. He stared at it, humiliation rising inside him.

'It's alright, Albus. Let's try again.'

'What's the point? It's useless, I'm just stupid at this. I can't do this.'

'Yes, you can,' she said, and she rested her hand on his forearm. As she did, he felt a jolt run up his arm, and his heartbeat quickened. 'Try again. Try and feel the magic, feel the power inside you. You know it's there.'

He nodded, and raised his wand again, narrowing his gaze at the feather. He said the words in his head again, but this time it was slightly different - there was a pull in his chest, a sort-of tug, and he instantly recognised it. He'd been feeling it for years, whenever he did a spell, without realising. It was weaker than before, more difficult to master. But, as he clenched his wand so hard his knuckles turned white, he watched as the feather rose several inches from the desk, twitched a few times, and then fell again.

Slumping back in his chair, Albus could barely contain his exhilaration. Shaking slightly, he turned to look at Chang, and saw she had a broad smile on her face as well.

'Well done, Albus! That was truly excellent work. We'll get this cracked, I promise.'

She took his hand, squeezing it for a moment. 'That's all for today. You shouldn't tire yourself out.'

Albus left the study and virtually skipped down the corridor, a stupid grin plastered across his face. He could do non-verbal spells, he would crack it! And Professor Chang would help him, she'd make sure he could do it. As he thought about it, a warm feeling filled him, and when he reached a staircase he was tempted to slide down the banister. His hands were actually resting on it, when a loud commotion behind him made him turn around.

Two people were quite clearly shouting at each other, and a second after Albus turned around, they burst through the door from the passageway that he'd just exited. They didn't notice him, stood a few feet away, until he yelled out their names:

'Rose! Scorpius!'

They stopped short, and looked around at him, seeming extremely surprised to find him there. 'What's going on?'

'She can explain. I'm done,' snapped Scorpius, sweeping his dishevelled hair back and marching past Albus, down the stairs, and out of sight. Albus turned back to Rose, who was still breathing heavily and looked rather pink in the face.

'It's unusual for Scorpius to get as angry as you do,' said Albus, walking towards her. 'What happened?'

Rose sighed, looking down at the ground. 'Oh, I don't know. We were patrolling together, and we were talking -'

'If you can call that talking,' muttered Albus.

'Are you going to let me talk?' snapped Rose, and he raised his hands. 'There's this new legislation that my mum's bringing in. It's really boring, just some new checks on how businesses manage finances, but some people are saying its biased against certain businesses run by certain families.'

'Let me guess which families,' said Albus. 'Does one of them start with M?'

'Malfoy's father is one of the people speaking against it. He's saying it's going to be really negative for him, and that it's unjust and all.'

'Is it?' asked Albus.

'I don't know any better than you! Mum doesn't include me in the Inter-Departmental Memos, does she? I only read the newspaper to keep up in conversations, it's you and Hugo who're the nerds about all that. But Scorpius started saying that my Mum had it out for his family and that she was only passing laws that benefitted her and her friends, so of course I got angry, and then he was already angry, and well … you saw how it ended up.'

'I heard it first,' he said, smirking. 'Aren't you meant to be stopping trouble during Prefect patrols, not causing it?'

She aimed a kick at him, laughing despite herself. 'As much as your friend is an arse, I'm sorry I got him so angry. I didn't mean to make him that upset.'

'He'll be fine,' said Albus airily. 'It's just a temper tantrum.'

They'd reached the turning towards the dungeons, so he bade her goodnight and headed through the darkened castle towards Slytherin House, muttering "evening" to the ghosts he passed. In the dungeon passageways he passed a small bespectacled boy, who he recognised as Kirkby, the one Scorpius was mentoring, and as it was past ten o'clock he dragged the boy back to the Common Room before he could lose them any house points.

He found Scorpius sat on one of the low-backed armchairs by a fireplace, staring moodily into the flames. Quietly, he dropped his schoolbag on the floor and sat down beside his friend. They sat in silence for a while.

'So why did you get so angry?' asked Albus. 'You never usually lose your cool like that. Something wrong?'

Scorpius sighed, and ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. 'I'm going to go with no.'

'Because Rose told me about what happened, and anyway I think I've read about that law that the minister is drafting. It's just a load of dull economic rules, why is it such an issue? So it may cause your father's companies to lose money. That's annoying, but you're unbelievably rich - surely a few Galleons here and there can't harm things much?'

'It's a bit more than "a few Galleons". Anyway, it's not just some rules. The Minister's implementing a system, with the law, to root out any corruption or malpractice within businesses, to ensure that there's no wrong-doing.'

Albus stared at his friend. 'But that won't affect you, will it?' Scorpius did not answer. 'Scorpius, will that affect your father?'

After nearly a minute, Scorpius turned to him, and smiled. 'I guess everything catches up in the end.'

He stood up, and left the Common Room. Albus did not follow him for a long time.

The subject of the new law was not broached over the next week. Scorpius did not mention it, and Albus did not want to bring it up himself. They didn't speak much, anyway, but that was more because they were both very busy. Quidditch season had started in earnest, which kept Scorpius out on the pitch in practices several times a week, and when he wasn't doing that he had the mounds of homework or Prefect duties to contend with. He was now entirely filling his mentoring sessions with monitoring Kirkby, and while that was preferable to hearing the whines of other kids, the boy wasn't exactly easy to handle. Meanwhile Albus had his own homework, tutoring with Professor Chang, and he kept finding that Katie wanted to spend time with him.

In the end, neither of them brought up the new law, as that job was done for them. Albus suspected something was wrong as soon as they walked into the Common Room; stares followed him and Scorpius as they crossed to the entrance. He was only sure of it when they reached the Entrance Hall, however. They'd hardly entered it when three boys in red and gold ties approached them, ugly expressions on their faces.

The middle boy, a Beater on the Gryffindor Team, strode up to Scorpius and shoved him hard in the chest. Surprised, Scorpius stumbled backwards onto the hard stone floor, and his hand dove towards his wand in his robes pocket. The boys made to attack him properly, only before they could Albus had dragged Scorpius off the ground and was pulling him away, his own wand out and pointing at the three boys. He knew he could take all three of them easily, and he was quite sure they knew that, too.

'You're scum, Malfoy! You and your rotten father!' yelled one of the boys.

'Keep moving,' snapped Albus, shoving Scorpius into the Great Hall. They walked straight down the Slytherin Table to an empty space and sat down. Scorpius was shaking so badly he couldn't butter his toast - after a few tries he dropped the knife and gave up, clenching his fists. 'What's going on, Scorpius?'

Albus' question was answered for him, however, as at that moment a cylindrical object was dropped onto the bacon platter in front of them. They'd arrived after the owl post, and as usual any owls with packages for absent students were waiting in the rafters high above. A brown owl swooped low over their heads, taking the Knut that Albus held up for him.

Scorpius was already reaching for the copy of the Daily Prophet, snapping the tie and unrolling it. Even from upside down, Albus could read the headline clearly:

Malfoy: King of Corruption

There was a large photo of a man Albus recognised to be Scorpius' father, glaring bitterly at the camera. His hands were cuffed magically in front of him. Albus looked up at his friend, at a loss for what to say. He heard the whispers now, saw the looks that were shot at them from across the Great Hall. Even some of the teachers seemed to be watching Scorpius.

'You read it,' said Scorpius, his voice low. 'I … I can't do it.'

Albus nodded, and picked up the paper.

In a move that has shocked many but surprised few, Draco Malfoy has recently been arrested on a number of serious charges of business misdemeanours. These include bribery, coercion, and corruption, and have been brought to light due to the recent, and clearly necessary, reforms spearheaded by the Minister for Magic.

As of yet, it is unknown whether Mr Malfoy faces jail time for his actions, but it is clear the case built against him is very serious. He faces sixteen separate charges in total, and a number of witnesses have already come forward to testify against him.

'He extorted me three years ago,' said Mr Limpet of No. 16 Diagon Alley. 'Wanted my premises for below market price. Wouldn't take no for an answer, and threatened violence! Just a chip off the old block, really!' Draco Malfoy is, of course, the son of the famed Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, who avoided Azkaban only on a technicality, and the testimony of Harry Potter. The elder Malfoy has retired to the South of France with his wife Narcissa (location undisclosed).

For years, it was thought that Draco Malfoy had turned a new leaf and forged a different direction for the family, supporting many philanthropic ventures, including a new wing in St Mungos for traumatic disorders. Clearly, however, this was all a facade to hide his shady, almost "gangster-ish" wheeling and dealing.

Currently, Mr Malfoy is being held by the Ministry with no bail awarded, as the Wizengamot has ruled he poses a high risk for escaping if allowed any freedom, even without a wand. Mr Malfoy has declined to give us a comment, but several others involved have been generous enough to do so, including Mrs … (story continued on pages six and seven)

Albus folded up the paper, placing it down on the table so they didn't have to look at the photo or the headline. He didn't want to read any more. Scorpius was staring at his plate, his fork held slack in his hand, seeming to not be seeing any of it. He didn't know what to say.

'You knew this could happen, didn't you,' he said in the end. Scorpius nodded. 'That's why you got so angry at Rose.'

'My father never gave me any explicit details, about any of his work. He'd tell me I was too young, that I wouldn't understand. At first it annoyed me, I thought he was patronising me. But slowly, I overheard things, when he spoke to partners, or to my mother, and they thought I wasn't there. And I realised that he was keeping me in the dark to protect me, and himself.'

'Could you be called to testify?' asked Albus. He didn't ask Scorpius why he wouldn't have spoken to another adult about his father's businesses, if he knew he was doing wrong. That was the sort of question Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs asked, not Slytherins.

'I think so. And my mother, too. And I'll have to say everything that I know, they put spells on you to make sure you do. Albus,' said Scorpius, and his face was suddenly a mask of anguish. 'What if I'm the one who puts my father in jail?'

'Look,' said Albus, 'it's not certain that your father will go to jail. I mean, he's not powerless, he'll have the best lawyers he can find representing him. And I'm sure he'll have covered his tracks as much as possible. I call it that he'll be a free man again by Christmas. Come on, let's get to Transfiguration.'

Getting to Transfiguration, however, was a harder task than expected. The whispers and sometimes outright jeers followed Scorpius out of the Great Hall, and as they tried to get through the passageways and up staircases to the Transfiguration classroom, the crowds of students seemed to close in around them, jostling and shoving at Scorpius. As they reached the top of the staircase to the classroom, someone's foot managed to catch Scorpius and sent him sprawling across the stone floor. Sniggers broke out around them. As Scorpius tried to pick himself off the floor with as much remaining dignity as he could muster, a spitwad struck him square in the back of the head. The laughter rose, and Albus saw other students reach into their bags and pockets for missiles. He was just pulling out his wand, unsure quite what he was going to do to stop it, when Professor Foxworth appeared.

'What's going on? Malfoy, why are you on the floor? Get up this instant!' she surveyed the crowd, her beady, close-set eyes clearly taking in the whole situation. One boy was brazenly throwing and catching his textbook. 'And get inside the classroom before I have to mark you late. The rest of you had better get moving, too. Now!'

The crowd began to disperse, and Scorpius and Albus hurried into the classroom with a few of their classmates. The others stared as they took their seats. Scorpius' face was inscrutable, but he was very taciturn during the entire lesson, entirely ignoring Albus' feeble attempts at conversation.

The situation came to a head two days later, when Scorpius was on his way back from Quidditch practice. For the first time, he hadn't enjoyed it. The rest of the team hadn't made sly comments or brought up the article, but they hadn't spoken to him either unless absolutely necessary. He was quite happy to volunteer to put the balls away and let them all go ahead.

It was a brief moment of respite from the chaos and nightmare that his life had become, to walk up alone through the darkening school grounds. His mind spun through the events of the past few days, trying to make sense of it all. He'd written to his mother, begging her to send him some more answers, but no reply had come yet. He knew that it was futile to try and contact his father, but he'd asked his mother to sort him a visit. He had to speak to his father, face to face. The mockery and humiliation wouldn't matter so much, if he could just speak to his parents and get some answers for what they did.

By the time he reached the gardens around the castle, it was almost night time, the sunset just a faded red line along the grey horizon. He shivered, pulling his robes around him, hurrying down the narrow paths between unappealing shrubbery and untidy bushes. He didn't want to be caught outside after curfew, even with a valid reason, he didn't think many of the teachers needed much of an excuse to penalise him.

As he reached the main path, leading straight to the back door of the castle, a movement to his left made him stop short. His heart began to beat faster, and his hand slipped into his pocket to grasp his wand. A movement on his right made his head whip around, his eyes squinting into the darkness.

'Hello?' he called out, withdrawing his wand and pointing it towards the bushes. 'Who's there?'

'Your worst nightmare.'

A tall, broad figure stepped into the path directly ahead of him. Scorpius' breath caught in his throat, and he pointed his wand at the figure. 'Don't come nearer. Who are you?'

Someone laughed, maliciously, and Scorpius was shoved from behind. His hand whipped around, his mind forming a spell, and the dark figure yelled in pain, a hand going over his face as it was hit by a Stinging Jinx. But then a second later his wand flew out his hand, and his broomstick was ripped from his grasp. He cursed under his breath, his mind racing. There were at least three or four of them, maybe more, and at least one was a lot bigger than him. The person behind him shoved him again, straight into the figure in front of him. It was too dark to make out their faces, but Scorpius saw enough to recognise a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey.

'Know why we're here, Malfoy? Know why we want to have a little chat to you?' asked the boy, roughly, grabbing the front of his robes. Scorpius shook his head, and he boy laughed. 'Trying to play stupid, then. It's alright, we don't care. We just want you to pay for all the shit your family has done, for years and years.'

'I didn't do anything,' said Scorpius.

'Oh? Really? So it was all your father, then. He's the guilty bastard who ripped off my father, is he?'

'My father is not guilty!' snapped Scorpius, anger rising inside him.

The boy let Scorpius go, and he looked around wildly, but the other three had closed in around them, blocking any chance for escape. 'You're defending your daddy, eh Malfoy? I'd respect that, if you and your daddy weren't scum. But you know what, I'm a fair man. I'll give you a chance to win back some honour, and Merlin knows, your family needs it. You can fight me.'

'I don't want to fight you,' he said, his voice shaking.

'It's not a question of what you want, coward, it's what you're going to do. Raise your fists. Give us space! And don't think of running - my boys will jinx you so hard you'll have to crawl into the castle like a slug, so the whole school can see you for the vermin you are. Now, we're going to fight.'

Scorpius swallowed, and then raised his fists. He hadn't seen a proper Muggle duel before, only the staged versions in the films Albus showed him. In those fights, the plucky little guy always won. He could guess that this one would be different.

He'd read tactics of duelling and of war, and he knew it was often better to strike first, to try and put your enemy on the defensive. So he swung his face, aiming at the other boy's face. As he did, he realised that the lights in the castle meant that while he could only see a silhouette of the boy, his opponent would see him lit up as clearly as daylight. And it worked to the other boy's advantage. He dodged Scorpius' punch easily, and then there was a blur of movement, and it was as if a Bludger had struck Scorpius square on the jaw. He stumbled backwards, his head spinning.

The other boy was laughing again. 'You can do better than that! Come on, I'll give you one free punch.'

Scorpius steadied himself, and headed back towards him. This time he didn't aim for the face, but sunk his fist deep into the boy's stomach. He expected to wind him, but his fist hit a mass of muscle and the boy just looked down, unperturbed. He stared at Scorpius' fist, and then as quick as a snack grabbed his wrist in a grip so tight Scorpius struggled to not cry out.

'That wouldn't be bad, Malfoy, if you were a ten-year-old girl,' murmured the boy. Still holding onto Scorpius' wrist, he twisted his arm, bringing it up and round so that Scorpius was forced to his knees in order to stop him dislocating his arm. The pain was awful, he could almost feel the muscles of his shoulder breaking apart slowly.

'He put up a good effort,' said one of the other boys.

'He did,' agreed Scorpius' opponent. 'He tried. And lost. Which means I can do what I like with you, Malfoy.'

He let go of Scorpius' arm, and punched him in the face again. His fist hit the side of Scorpius' nose and he felt it break with a loud crunch, a spray of blood running down over his lips. Groaning, he fell forward, and found someone grabbing him by the collar, dragging him off the dirt only to punch him again. Stars filled his vision as blood filled his mouth.

'If your father's the King of Corruption, what does that make you?' said one of the boys in a low, menacing voice, as Scorpius was thrown back onto the dirt. 'The crooked prince? Criminal kid?'

'He's not anything,' said another boy. This one was higher. A girl. 'We could hex and curse him, but I think that awards him some sort of honour. Let's show him what he's worth.'

Scorpius groaned as a boot struck him beneath his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. Another hit his stomach, and then a third his spine. He curled into a foetal position, trying to protect his balls, as his attackers struck him him from all sides. At times he wondered if he was even conscious, or alive still, if he was any more than a limp body for them to kick and strike.

And then it was over, and he was lying alone in the dark, listening to their footsteps retreat, their voices fading as they disappeared into the castle. He could feel the hard dirt and stones digging into his sore and aching body. After a while he relaxed, and slipped instantly into blissful unconsciousness.

He didn't know how long it was that he lay there, but suddenly there was a voice in his ear, and someone's hands were on him. He cried out, terrified that his attackers had decided to come back for another round, but the voice wasn't rough or cruel. It spoke quietly in his ear.

'Scorpius, try not to speak. We need to get you back into the castle. Can you stand?'

Was that Albus? The voice was very familiar, and sounded very like Albus.

'Al-bus?'

'Don't speak, idiot! Fred, Louis, help me.'

'Why don't we conjure up a stretcher?'

'Alright, Fred, if you think you can just conjure up a stretcher trustworthy enough to carry a six-foot man into the castle, go for it. I personally don't want to risk him falling again.'

A sigh came from somewhere above Scorpius. 'Alright, I'll go on his other side. Louis, you lead the way. Keep lookout for any teachers. We'll get in trouble too, if we're caught. Come on, let's go.'

Strong hands grasped Scorpius under his arms, and his head gave a strong protest as he was lifted. He slumped forward, and boys swore on both sides of him. 'For Merlin's sake!' exclaimed the one that wasn't Fred. 'Is he at all conscious?'

'I don't know,' said the other one, the one with voice like Albus'. 'Do you think this was because of … you know …'

'Use your head, James!' came a slightly more distant voice, from somewhere up ahead. Scorpius still couldn't open his eyes; he could barely move his feet enough to stop them dragging. 'Malfoy was one of the most popular boys in school until that article about his father came out. Nothing else could've caused this.'

'It's brutal, though,' said the one Scorpius thought was called Fred. 'Who'd have done that? Surely not a Slytherin - they're all about fraternity, right? They might attack someone from another house, but not their own. Ravenclaws are all intellectuals, too in their heads for fighting, especially the Muggle sort. And Hufflepuffs are known for their kindness.'

There was a silence, as all three of them were clearly thinking the same thing. Scorpius could barely even keep track of the conversation. His whole body seemed to be in agony.

'Easy on the steps,' said one of them. They seemed to have reached the castle, as a burst of light turned Scorpius' vision red, and he groaned again. All three voices instantly shushed him. 'If we get him down to the dungeons and into Slytherin hands without being caught it'll be a miracle.'

'Are you sure we shouldn't take him to the Hospital Wing? He might need to see Madame Longbottom…'

'And how would we explain why we were outside the castle at ten past midnight, in possession of a bunch of those pixies Hagrid had brought in for Care of Magical Creatures? It's a bummer that we had to let them go, after all the effort it took to steal them,' sighed the voice on Scorpius' left.

'Not as if we could leave him, and we are meant to be chivalrous,' said the familiar one. 'And Louis, if you shut up and do your job as lookout instead of griping, we might actually manage it.'

None of them spoke for a while after that, except for curses when they had to get down a staircase. Even in Scorpius' confused, battered mind, he worked out that they were down in the dungeons. They'd stopped, and he figured that whoever his helpers were, they were at a loss as to where to go.

'Either of you got any idea where the Slytherin Common Room is?' said the left-hand one. There were murmurs of dissent. 'Right. Really great.'

'Not the moment for sarcasm, Fred.'

'Well do you have an answer?'

'Just let me think! Al must've talked about it, wish he wasn't such a quiet little fucker.'

Al … so it wasn't Albus, but this boy must know him somehow! The thought of Albus seemed to stick in his mind, and his head cleared a little. With stupendous effort, he opened his bruised and split mouth, and said in a slurred voice: 'Straight … on.'

'He is conscious!' one of them exclaimed. 'We'd better do as he says.'

They started on again, and Scorpius tried to work out how he'd get to the Common Room. His body still wasn't working, he didn't even think he'd be able to crawl more than a few metres, but it was a great crime against the house to reveal the location of Slytherin Common Room. He didn't know if anyone from another house ever had actually entered Slytherin House. But he couldn't think how else to get there, without these three carrying him in.

As it turned out, he didn't need to find an answer. They'd hardly turned the next corner when the gloriously familiar voice of Albus Potter called out: 'James? Scorpius! Fuck!'

So it was James, Albus' elder brother, who'd saved him. That was why his voice had seemed so familiar, he'd been hearing it for years, and it was so like Albus's. He'd always thought that James was just an arrogant prick who only thought of himself, but the boy had carried him all the way back into the castle.

'Albus, thank Merlin,' gasped Fred, and Scorpius realised that he and Louis were Albus' cousins. The two of them with James formed an infamous trio.

'How come you're out?' asked Louis.

'We started to get worried when he wasn't back six hours after the end of practice,' said a girl's voice. 'So we came to have a look for him.'

'Glad you did - can you get him back to your Common Room?' asked James.

'Of course,' said Albus. 'Leo - can you help me?'

'Let's just carry him with magic,' said Leo's voice. So it was the Zabinis who'd come out with Albus. He heard the girl, Vittoria, laugh.

'Look, James, we can't thank you enough,' said Albus, as they took hold of Scorpius.

'It's alright, Al. Just get him back before anyone else can lay into him, alright?'

Footsteps echoed as the three boys left the dungeons, and then Scorpius heard someone mutter a spell, and his body was lifted into the air. He hung limply, his limps dangling like a rag doll's as they set off through the dungeons. He wasn't sure how long the rest of the journey took them, but suddenly he was being lowered into a soft, comfortable chair, and a glass of something was pushed against his lips.

'Drink, Scorpius,' said Albus' voice, and obediently he opened his mouth a few inches. The liquid felt hot and burned his throat, stinging his split lips, but a few seconds later his head cleared and he was able to open one of his eyes. The other was swollen shut. But as he was able to think more clearly, at the same time the pain in his body seemed to redouble. He could still feel the drip drip drip of blood from his broken nose, over his top lip into his mouth.

Through his blurred vision, he made out several figures stood in front of him. Albus was the nearest, leaning over him with the glass of potion. 'Where am I?' he mumbled.

'Your dormitory,' said Fitzroy brightly. 'We are lucky you're back.'

'It looks like most of him isn't back,' said Vittoria sharply. 'What the hell happened, Scorpius?'

'Don't be so hard on him,' said Albus in an irritable voice. 'Does he look like he's in a fit state to be questioned? He needs to go to bed, we can all talk tomorrow.'

The others reluctantly agreed, and the girls filed out of the dormitory.

'Can you stand or walk yet, Scorpius?' asked Albus. 'I'll help.'

He took Scorpius' arm, lifting him slowly from the chair and staggering slightly as Scorpius slumped against him, his legs apparently boneless. A thickly muscled arm that had to be Zabini's encircled his torso a second later, and Scorpius was helped across the room and into bed.

'Scorpius,' said Albus, as his shoes were pulled off him. 'I swear this isn't meant to be emasculating, but I've got to put some ointment on you, to bring down the bruising. It's from my uncle's workshop, it's meant to be for when pranks go wrong. I've never used it, but James says it works. Hold still.'

He winced as the thick, cool paste stung his swollen and tender features, but the pain eased a little soon afterwards. He felt suddenly extremely tired, as if he'd been running for days. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to release, and drifted back into unconsciousness.

Waking up the next morning was a painful experience. He could open his good eye properly, and the swelling on his bad eye had gone down so that he could open it a crack. His lips still felt twice their usual size, but he could speak, albeit painfully. The worst was his head. It felt as if someone had spent the night drilling into his skull, like the trepanning he'd read about Muggles doing. And when he tried to move, every muscle and bone in his body put up a protest.

Albus was already up and getting dressed; he was halfway through tying his tie when he noticed Scorpius trying to get up. One hand still holding the tie in place, he pulled a bottle from his bedside drawer and handed it to Scorpius. 'Drink this, it will help.'

It was more potion like the one he'd been given last night. Awkwardly, as his right arm wasn't moving properly, he drank a mouthful of the burning liquid. His muscles did ease a little, and he was able to dress without too many spasms running through his body.

The biggest shock, however, was when he went into the bathroom to wash and brush his teeth. He knew that his face must have looked terrible, from the beating that was given to it, but the sight that faced him, the mess of bruising, swollen patches, and split skin made him gasp despite himself. He was barely recognisable. Gingerly, he tried to wash his face and neaten his hair. It took a long time for him to get dressed and ready, as his left hand - his dominant hand - appeared to have been stamped on the night before, and had stiffened up overnight, while his right shoulder spasmed if he moved it too much.

Finally they were ready to go, and he set off with Albus and the other three, who hovered around him like a set of bodyguards. Everyone they passed stared at him, their expressions ranging from shock to confusion. It took them a while to reach the Great Hall, as Scorpius was walking much more slowly than usual.

Albus restrained himself until they'd sat down at the Slytherin Table before asking the inevitable question: 'What happened?'

It took several minutes for Scorpius, in a low voice, recount the events of the night before. By the end of it Albus' face was a mask of shock and rage. 'And you still have no idea who did it?'

'Only that they were Gryffindors. I think one was in a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey,' said Scorpius, shrugging and pushing his porridge about the bowl. He didn't feel much like eating.

'Didn't you say that you hit one of them with a Stinging Jinx?' asked Langwith, leaning across the table. Scorpius nodded. 'Well take a look at who just walked in.'

They all turned in their seats to look over at the double doors. A group of Sixth Year Gryffindors had strode in, talking and laughing together. It was a group that had frequently come into conflict with the Slytherins, due to the fact they embodied the Gryffindor characteristics that Slytherins hated. They were loud, obnoxious, and extremely arrogant. Their leader was the worst of all, a boy named Harriot McLaggen who was also the Gryffindor Keeper. He swaggered in beside his usual sidekick, a stocky boy named Connor Finnigan. As Connor turned towards the Slytherin table, they all noticed he had a large red weal across his left cheek, a mark distinctively caused by a Stinging Jinx.

The group of them - it was quite large, now that the girls had joined them - exchanged meaningful looks. Well, Scorpius tried, but he could only open one eye, so it looked a little like he was winking extremely forcefully at them all. But before they could discuss this revelation any further, their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of none other than James Potter.

It was quite a while since James had ventured across the Great Hall to the Slytherin Table, and he did seem very uncomfortable as they all looked around at him, along with the next twenty Slytherins on either side. Louis and Fred were hovering behind him.

'Malfoy, I just wanted to check if you were alright after … after last night,' he said, looking very fixedly at Scorpius and Albus. 'How're you feeling?'

Scorpius shrugged, grimacing as the movement sent a spasm of pain across his shoulders. 'I'm okay.'

'Do you … do you remember the bastards who did it? Did you see?' asked James. 'Do you know … maybe what house they were?'

'They were Gryffindors,' said Scorpius firmly. 'I saw a Gryffindor Quidditch team jersey.'

A small line appeared in James' brow, and it deepened to a frown as Albus said:

'Yes, and we just saw McLaggen with his little gang, and that one Finnigan had a red mark on his face, exactly the same as the mark from a Stinging Hex, and that's what Scorpius hit one of his attackers with!' said Albus, turning around in his seat to face his brother properly. 'Look, James, you should speak to them, it's almost certainly them who attacked Scorpius!'

'Me? i'm not accusing one of my teammates on purely circumstantial evidence, Albus, you need to get a grip,' said James.

'Oh, really? I need to get a grip, do I? And what about you - you're all ready to mete out some justice, that is until it turns out it was one of your precious Quidditch players who did it,' snapped Albus. He had his arms crossed, and as the two brothers glared at each other Scorpius noticed how similar they both looked all of a sudden.

'Wait - both of you, stop,' he said, forcing himself to speak loudly despite the pain to get their attention. 'James, I am almost certain that I saw one of the attackers was wearing a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey, but Albus that isn't a smoking cauldron and I can see why James doesn't want to start pointing fingers.'

'Stop making excuses, Scorpius,' said Albus, 'James is just being biased towards his own house, like he always is.'

'And you're always jumping to blame Gryffindor for whatever goes wrong in your little lives!' yelled James.

'Whatever goes wrong? Scorpius is sat there with a pound of mince for a face!' retorted Albus, just as loud.

'Fine, Albus, if you're wanting something to be done, go speak to Professor Flint or Longbottom about it.'

'We're not snitches!' snapped Albus.

'You can't get any proper evidence until you do, so if you're not ready for that just shut up and take your heads out your arses! You're pathetic!'

'You're a coward!'

James had turned to leave, but at Albus' words he spun on his heel and marched back to stand over him, fists raised to his brother's chin. His words were low and trembling with anger. 'Don't you dare call me that, Albus.'

As Fred and Louis dragged James away, Albus turned back around to face the others. He was shaking so badly he couldn't keep his breakfast on his fork, and gave up after a few seconds. No one spoke for the rest of breakfast, and when the bell rang for lessons Scorpius was the first to leave, and was halfway out of the hall before Albus had even stood.

Scorpius still couldn't move very fast, but it still took Albus three passageways and two staircases to catch up with him. 'Scorpius! Scorpius, wait! What's going on?'

'Oh, shut up Albus!'

Albus stared at his friend, who was glaring at him out of his one good eye. He was at a complete loss as to what to say. He understood how he'd made his brother angry, and that had been deliberate, but why was Scorpius now looking as if he'd just pissed in his potion?

'What did I do?' he asked, trying not to sound whiny and worrying that he failed.

Scorpius stopped so suddenly that Albus tripped over his robes. 'You don't understand, Albus. You can't understand how I'm feeling right now. You've got your whole life sorted.'

'Have i?' Albus' mind raced through his numerous flaws and scenes of social stupidity.

'Yes! Your family is hugely respected - your parents are fucking heroes! And you moan about how no one likes you and you can't get girls, but let's be real, that's all your own doing. You can't even imagine how I feel at the moment,' said Scorpius.

'Then tell me how you feel,' said Albus quietly.

'I feel humiliated, Albus. My father has been accused of gross misdemeanours in his businesses and might very possibly go to jail, it's all over the press so everyone is talking about it like it's the latest gossip, everyone in the school thinks I'm just the spoilt son of a criminal, and now I've been beaten up and everyone can see it,' said Scorpius, his voice cracking slightly. 'I don't need you fighting my battles as well - battles that I don't even want to be fought. James and the others carried me back last night when they could've just left me, at massive risk to themselves, and he comes over to just check if I'm alright and you start having a go at him! I know he's your brother and you have some stupid complex, but just for once, couldn't you not make it about yourself?'

He hoisted his schoolbag more securely onto his shoulder, hid a wince at the movement, and headed off down the corridor. Albus let him leave him behind, only catching up at the door to the Potions classroom. He took his usual seat beside Scorpius, and as they pulled out their books and built the fires beneath their cauldrons, he leant across and said quietly enough that Zabini on the other side wouldn't hear: 'I'm sorry.'

Scorpius didn't reply, but nodded slightly, and a few minutes later helped Albus reposition his wood so it would light properly.

Professor Flint gave them all a short lecture on the new topic - emotional potions - and then set them off on their first task, brewing a Sentimentality Draught. It was a fairly long and convoluted recipe, but had few particularly fiddly parts, and most of the Sixth Years had soon set off happily into their potion-making.

As soon as the whole class seemed busy, Flint strode down the central aisle and stopped in front of Scorpius' desk. He was a big man turning steadily to fat, with a fleshy face and large, meaty hands, which he rested on either side of Scorpius' cauldron. His small, narrow eyes traced over the numerous cuts and bruises on Scorpius' face, and the fact he was having to do all his potion-making right-handed. His left hand was still swollen and barely moveable.

'Now, Malfoy, you're looking rather different to how you were yesterday,' said Flint in a slow, quiet voice.

'Yes, sir,' said Scorpius, still trying to cut his dried Bungboon Beans.

'Care to tell me what happened?'

'Fell off my broom, sir,' said Scorpius.

'Oh, really? Because I've already seen Captain Bowles, and he said that you flew very well yesterday, and certainly neither Bludgers nor the ground hit you with enough force to make you look like a troll's recent victim.'

'It was after practice, sir. Hit … the stands,' said Scorpius, a slight flush appearing in the small patches of skin that were not blue or purple.

'Of course. Not thinking it through, were you?' Flint leant forward, so that his large head was at risk of being engulfed in Scorpius' fumes. 'Malfoy, I understand that you do not wish to be a grass, but let me say that whoever did this should face consequences, and it should be me or another teacher who handles that. If I catch you or any of your friends acting on some sort of vengeance mission, I will treat you as harshly as I will treat the person who attacked you. Understand?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Fine. And Potter, help Malfoy with his ingredients before I set fire to it all, I can't stand to watch him struggle so pathetically. For Merlin's sake, boy, at least get Madame Longbottom to fix you up.'

He strode away, his robes billowing around his bulky body.