The feel of icy water on his face provoked memories of his sixth year at Hogwarts: particularly his worst moment, crying in the girl's bathroom with Moaning Myrtle. Although he'd mostly tried to suppress the memory it sometimes came back to him, like a disgusting aftertaste, and it was harder still to forget it when you had a physical reminder slashed across your torso. The water rolled down his cheeks, he felt a little less sweaty and nauseas, but…he looked up and almost screamed.

He couldn't really bring himself to believe it, but standing behind him reflected in the mirror was unmistakably Severus Snape. The long dead Severus Snape.

Looking back at him in the mirror the man was still as imposing as ever. Draco could feel a chill running down his spine, mostly at the sight of a second thought to be dead- but-actually-still-quite-alive death eater of the night and then at Snape's natural menace. It seemed death hadn't marred his features at all. He was as sallow, hook nosed and severe as ever.

He definitely wasn't dead.

Draco's thoughts ran quickly to the Battle of Hogwarts. Snape's body had been recovered by Potter. The Dark Lord had murdered him. His right hand man, not that that accounted much with the Dark Lord who had once killed his own father. Draco saw images of Snape's dead body, his neck mangled by Nagini's bite, his grey-blue tinged skin and the wide black eyes that stared into nothing. It made him feel sick again.

There was no way Snape could've survived.

"Draco," Snape said urgently.

But Snape was dead, Draco knew that. And if something didn't compute it had to be dark magic. Although it was an easy jinx happy law to rely on and he wasn't about to wait around to see what happened. And besides, a little dark magic could be fun. He grabbed his wand.

He whipped around, silently casting a curse. Confringo! The magic exploded from his wand with a bang and a blaze of blue.

If there had been a person standing behind him they should've been splattered all over the bathroom walls by now, Draco thought, as the smoke cleared to reveal a decidedly empty and splatter-free bathroom that now had a huge hole in the wall. Chunks of stone were still falling onto the floor. "Crap, I'm going to have to ask Dixie to clean that up…"

"Are you quite done?"

Draco spun around again. He was going to get very very dizzy and even more sick if he kept this up. Severus Snape glared at him in the mirror, arms folded under their black sleeves.

Draco looked back a couple of times to see but there definitely was no one behind him, yet Severus stood at his shoulder in the mirror.

"What is this?" Draco demanded imperiously.

"Something extremely head-ache inducing." Severus replied, his dark eyes traveled lazily over Draco's face and then to the still sizzling hole in the wall behind him. "That would be the case. If I was properly living."

Draco's breath hitched, and he had to steady himself on the basin. "So you're not?"

"No, I am not alive." Severus looked at him sternly. "Do brush up on your sentence construction, Draco, anyone else would not have known what you meant."

This was the problem with teachers, thought Draco, they come back to life after being dead for the last seventeen years and all they have to say is 'Correct your grammar!'

"Draco, although I am thrilled to see the interior of your bathroom, we don't have much time. I am here to warn you."

Well, thought Draco, that leaves little time for small talk. All the things he wanted to ask.

So you're here but you're not alive. That's not too bad. How are you by the way? Has death been treating you well and, if it isn't too rude to ask…damn, he'd become rather blasé about warnings. After those years with Voldemort, there really was nothing worse.

"The world as you know it is changing, Draco. I'd advise you to keep your wits about you. Since you've been keeping sharp over the years. (Always with the sarcasm…) Great events are about to occur. Terrible, terrible things. I'm afraid that I won't be the only departed soul to come calling. (Draco gulped, Aunt Bellatrix!)" Snape stared at him.

"How do I know you're not some apparition cast by someone, probably Weasley, as some kind of practical joke?" Yes, Draco, try and hold onto your sanity. It's not real.

"Look at your arm, Draco," Severus replied in his 'silence –of-the –grave' voice.

Instinctively he looked at his left arm, still covered by his robe sleeve he couldn't actually see anything yet. But already the prickling of apprehension raced up his spine, and settled as a lump in his stomach. "It's been bothering you." Snape said, but his voice was a distant sound in Draco's head as he lifted his sleeve to reveal the blacker than night, pulsating Dark Mark. Everything started spinning. His ears were roaring.

"It's that…it's the mark. It's calling to you. Do not heed the call."

DRACO MALFOY! Draco collapsed to the floor, as his arm erupted in agony. It was as if burning snakes made of fire were wrapping themselves around his arm. A loud hissing, so loud and so piercing it seemed to be coming inside him, erupted in his ears.

"Draco. Do not heed the call. Do go to him." Snape was saying, Draco didn't, couldn't hear him. He was on the floor, he was out of his head, he was trying not to scream.

Astoria started to worry when neither Draco nor Scorpius had returned to the dinner table. The guests were chatting obliviously. Topics of discussion seemed to be based around the dwindling numbers of purebloods, some gossip, the recent spate of dragon pox and the latest headline in the Daily Prophet which was all about an Unspeakable who had actually spoken only to say the word, 'Broken.'

"Isn't that rather profound?" Tempera Burke proclaimed. "I wonder what he was talking about."

Astoria could only wonder where her husband and son were, so she clenched her teeth and smiled. "Perhaps himself? I wonder how one becomes an unspeakable, you wouldn't happen to know, would you, Milimo?" Better if she wasn't too quiet. As Fudge began his explanation she ran her eyes over all the guests. Pansy, despite her unfortunate choice of dress that night, was a great friend of the family. She was looking genuinely entertained, and smiled at Astoria as she spoke to Caractacus Burke. Logica was picking at her nails. Lucius was… she stared at Lucius, his face was strangely contorted in an awful grimace as if he was choking on the fish. His guest, Yaxley, equally pain stricken judging by his face leaned towards him whispering. Lucius nodded, and they both looked towards the door. Astoria narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, of course, the unspeakables are tested for suitability and…"

"Lucius?" She called across the table, interrupting Fudge mid-speech. The conversation paused to allow her to speak. "Are you alright there? Would you like some tea? Or how about dessert, it should be ready by now everyone."

She was taken aback by how vicious the elder Malfoy's expression was. His eyes bore into hers and she flinched. It took him about a second to reassemble his features. "I'm perfectly fine, Astoria." He said through gritted teeth. "However I would like to take a short walk before dessert, if you wouldn't mind."

Inside, Astoria was terrified by her next action. She stood. "Of course not, Lucius. The guests want their dessert now. We can't have them impatient. And we've made such delicious cakes." Lucius looked like he was going to kill her.

Narcissa shot her a look from her seat beside her husband. Astoria smiled through her fear. "I'm sure you understand Lucius. You won't be displeased, I made sure to make your favourite. Death by chocolate cake, yes?" She knew she was being obnoxious but for some reason she suspected something was going on in the house. Where was Draco? Where was Scorpius? And why was Lucius acting so strangely? Malfoy men…she clapped her hands, summoning both Dixie and Mopsy.

"The dessert." She said to them, and they both vanished. Promptly after the table was cleared of plates and then filled with dessert platters. "Please enjoy!" She said to the guests, and sat down again.

Not looking up she helped herself to a milk tartlet and a pumpkin pastry. She imagined Lucius to be glaring at her because she could feel her skin prickling with withheld magic. She wished Draco would return.

Scorpius was walking back to the dining room. He was in a long dark corridor from the old wing of the mansion (the part that used to be a castle) that he rarely went down. It was almost never lit and the archaic castle windows that ran down the wall didn't even have glass in them. The night sky could be seen through the porthole windows (the ancient Malfoys owned canons). Somehow the twinkling stars managed to illustrate the thousands of thoughts he had in his head, each sparkling with mystery. He stopped, to rest his hand on the wall.

He yelped as a white falcon flapped in through the window. "Hese?" He cried, but that couldn't be right as Hese was in the falconry. The birds weren't allowed out at night.

The bird wasn't normal anyway. It was glowing brightly. The whole corridor was awash in burning bird light.

"What the-?" Scorpius stepped back, drawing his wand. The falcon alighted on the windowsill, blinking at Scorpius with sharp eyes.

"Scorpius, help me." It said, before vanishing.

Scorpius remained frozen, the blood was pounding in his head. The bird had spoken, it was unusual for animals even magical ones to speak, but worse, so much worse was that it spoke in his father's voice.

Scorpius took off at a run. His grandfather was over for dinner. His father was in danger. There was a strange man in his bedroom. The night could not get any stranger. Or any worse.

Astoria and Draco Malfoy. It had been a very successful marriage. Although all signs had been pointing at Draco ending up with Pansy somehow it was Astoria that he married. They had met after Draco had left Hogwarts. He had been working at the ministry as an intern for one of his father's old friends. In the potions department of all places. It was the only place he could really get a job since it was mainly the domain of Slytherins. Daphne Greengrass had come to him one day with a request, she needed some kind of love potion to be brewed. It was hard for all Slytherins in those days. You had to ask for help from another Slytherin if you wanted anything. Draco was competent enough for the job, and willing. He gave her a decent price. She had brought her younger sister with her. That was Astoria. While Draco and Daphne spoke, Astoria walked around Draco's laboratory, picking vials and jars off the shelf to read their labels. Draco had watched her carefully, if she broke anything…but she didn't and he found himself watching her actions less and watching her face more.

She was very beautiful. All the Greengrasses were. Her hair was a rich brown and her eyes glittered as green as the emeralds his mother owned. When she noticed he was staring, she grinned.

Draco tried to remember all the details. But the pain was growing. The bathroom mirror reflected nothing but the gaping hole in the wall.

"Will Mopsy gets Dixie's a towel?" Dixie asked her co-worker as they prepared after dinner snacks for the guests. Dixie had spilled tea on the counter.

Mopsy checked in the cupboards, but they'd apparently run out. "I'll go gets one."

She apparated to their living quarters. They kept extra things in the cupboard there. She took the towels, and was about to return to the kitchen when she noticed the Elfstone had turned a bright red. She peered closer into its centre, where very clearly she could see Master Malfoy's pale face contorted in pain.

Lucius stood up at the table in a swath of dark green robes. "I must apologise, Astoria. The dessert was delicious, but I must take my leave now. I'm getting on in years and I need my walk. Yaxley will accompany me."

The guests stared at him, and then at Astoria. How would this end?

"Darling," Astoria smiled. "You're hardly at the age of Dumbledore before he died."

Lucius' façade near cracked, a snarl was starting to grow on his face. "I tire of this." He withdrew his wand. Astoria gasped. But he merely transfigured a box to put his dessert in. "I must leave. Thank you so much for the dinner tonight, Astoria. If only my son were here. Thank you, everyone else for your delightful company." Narcissa rose, as did Yaxley, though the latter with some difficulty. Astoria could barely get a word in edgewise before they had left. The guests looked a little bewildered.

"Please continue everyone." She trilled –she never trilled before hurrying right after Lucius. Narcissa was holding him up as they walked quickly to the door, Yaxley seemed to be muttering curses under his breath.

"What is wrong with you? Are you ill?" Astoria asked, running up to them.

"Yes." Narcissa answered. "I think its best that we leave. You understand, dear?"

"No. The guests will be talk now. Can't you stay a little longer?" Astoria said, even she was surprised at her daring. It seemed, however, that she had gone too far.

"No! Stupid Slytherin girl! Public perception isn't everything. I suggest you find your husband…if he hasn't left already." Lucius snarled. Astoria's fake smile dropped.

"What?"

Lucius lifted his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark in its full glory before shoving it back down. She'd seen Draco's as the faded scar that it had become after the Dark Lord's death but the one on Lucius' arm was as dark as coal, rimmed red by the burning skin of his arm. He glared at her coldly before leaving. Narcissa didn't even glance back at her as she closed the door. Astoria jolted as the large manor doors slammed shut before her face. She didn't realize until she caught sight of herself in the goblin made mirror how pale she'd turned.

She knew she had to get rid of the guests, and then find Draco. "Dixie, Mopsy!" The elves appeared, wide eyed and squealing.

"Mistress! Master Malfoy is in grave peril!" Mopsy cried.

"Where is he?" Astoria demanded.

"Mopsy will take you, Mistress!"

"Alright. Quickly. Dixie get rid of the guests."

"Yes, Mistress!"

Mopsy grabbed hold of Astoria's hand and they apparated. Her last sight before vanishing was of Dixie running to the dining room.

She opened her eyes again to see Draco, lying on the bathroom floor, panting. His eyes were blankly staring, the whites stained red by a blood vessel that had appeared to have burst in his eyes. He sitting up but was bound by thick magical ropes. Apparently to keep him from thrashing. Scorpius sat beside him, whispering urgently. The latter jumped when Astoria appeared.

"Mum!" He cried, moving aside for her. "I found him like this. I think he's being possessed."

Astoria pulled Draco's left sleeve up, the Mark was there alright. But it was looking much worse than Lucius'. Draco's Mark seemed to make his skin bubble, his whole arm was an enflamed red as if he had left it in a fire, the Mark burned so blackly that it was burning into Astoria's retinas. She looked away.

Scorpius was breathing heavily beside her. "What the hell is that?"

"The Dark Mark."

"What?"

"The Mark of a Deatheater."

"But…that's not right."

Draco lurched, vomit dribbled down his chin.

"Merlin." Astoria breathed, magicking a damp towel to dab Draco with. He seemed to have a raging fever.

"When did you find him?" Astoria asked her son.

"A few minutes ago. He called me."

"He called you?"

"He sent a talking falcon."

"A patronus."

"Is that what that was? Never seen one before."

"You're lucky. I think we should move him."

Astoria pointed her wand at Draco and he began floating, he fought against his bonds, twisting in the air.

"We'll take him to the bedroom. Mopsy get some of the fever potion. And a peace of mind draught." Astoria strode off, her face suddenly a mask of calm. Scorpius followed after his mother, feeling a little helpless.

After they'd strapped Draco to the bed and force fed him fever relief potion and peace of mind draught, the two Malfoys sat down. Astoria sat in the green armchair by the bed and Scorpius on the floor.

"Why is this happening, Mum?" Scorpius asked after a period of silence that was occasionally punctuated by Draco's moans and growls.

"Everything will be fine in the morning, Scorpius. You don't need to worry. I think your father's illness has just got the better of him." Astoria replied. Dixie who had finished shooing the guests, and was now bringing tea, glanced curiously up at Astoria.

"Really?" Scorpius said, disbelievingly.

"Yes." Astoria said firmly, getting up to check Draco's temperature. His forehead was still burning despite the fever relief potion.

"And the Dark Mark?" Scorpius drawled.

"I don't know about that. Don't worry about it, Scorp." Astoria muttered. "Why don't you take your tea and drink it in your room?"

If she looked behind her she would've seen her son grimace. "Mum, there's something I want to-?"

"Scorpius." Astoria said warningly. "Your father's ill. I'd like it very much if you made yourself scarce."

Scorpius paused, wondering if he should press the issue. It could wait…

"Fine." Scorpius left silently, glancing over his shoulder at his father's tormented form.

The moonlight was on his back when Scorpius went back to check on his father. He was feeling a little annoyed. After his mother had ushered him from her room he'd gone to his own. He'd found the stranger from before sleeping in his bed, he'd reeled back feeling quite disgusted as he noticed the streaks of dirt on his white bedsheets, the smell quite literally drove him from the room.

He'd stood outside his bedroom door, reaching towards it, turning away, turning back, grimacing at the memory of the smell and then subsequently sinking to the floor, feeling confused.

His father's illness had become critical. That was the truth of it all, as true as Scorpius had seen the burning black mark on his father's arm. He'd started to wonder how he hadn't noticed any of this before. Or why he hadn't been curious about it at all?

He'd known about his father's faded tattoo for a while now, should have wondered why he always kept it hidden underneath his robes even in the summer. He should have wondered why, if his parents had been heroes during the war why they never associated with famous war heroes like Harry Potter or the Weasleys. Why they never attended the annual commemorations of the War…Or why his father had always kept to himself when they dropped him off at Platform 9 ¾?

Somehow he'd just never wondered. He stared at his hands, almost invisible in the dim light, it was remarkable how something so familiar could be so unsure…

So everything was not as it seemed. And something terrible was about to happen.

Scorpius could feel it.

Outside a bat clattered against the window. Scorpius watched it drop out sight.

He stood up and walked to the window, it was too dark to see anything outside, but the moon hung like an angry eyeball in the sky, at the very least it seared the Malfoy Gardens a hue of white though Scorpius still couldn't see anything else of the bat. He assumed it must be dead; bats don't fly into windows…

He realized time must have passed since the torches in their brackets had sprung spontaneously alight, turning the flagstones molten orange. He stepped away from the window, wondering about his father. He looked back and caught sight of the man rising to his feet, his eyes strangely blank.

Draco Malfoy's shadow swayed in the darkness as Scorpius watched, the man seemed in a daze, moonlit so as to appear as a ghost. The black mark stood in stark contrast to the white body, the skull seemed to leer at Scorpius, the snake seemed to snicker.

In the mirror's reflection Draco caught sight of his son as Scorpius finally managed to speak.

"Dad?"

The older man seemed shocked to see Scorpius standing there. He quickly hid the mark as if Scorpius had not seen it before, or none of the events of the night had happened.

Scorpius paused, studying his father with curiosity. Something already didn't seem right…as if it ever had been right….

"What is it, Scorpius?" Draco asked. The man appeared almost lost as he picked up his night robes from where they lay rather untidily on the bed, he shoved his arms into the sleeves quickly. Scorpius knew his father was still trying to hide his Dark Mark. But it wasn't as if he didn't already know about it. His eyes narrowed.

He glanced around the room, wondering where his mother was. He noted the ropes that had bound his father were laying in loops and tangles on the floor, along with the bloody and shredded clothes his father had been wearing, thought it seemed Draco had not noticed these things. His mother had untied his father, had undressed him and treated his fever, but where was she now? Why would she leave him alone?

Scorpius paused, at a loss. His father was staring at him expectantly. Shall I go along with the charade, thought Scorpius. His entire body sagged at the thought of the night to come. It already seemed exhausting.

Now was probably the time to inform his father about the strange man in his bedroom. He wasn't sure if this was the right time to tell him, would Dad handle it better in this dream state or in his natural one? It really couldn't be put off any longer, Scorpius was afraid his room might be permanently stained if the man remained there any longer.

He tried to speak. "While we were at dinner…" He studied his father's face, it watched him intently, thinking unknown probably hazy thoughts, Scorpius was almost frightened. His father was always anything but vacant. The man's usually alert face was slipping into something of a lopsided frown.

Scorpius suddenly felt himself trembling as if the events of the night had finally built up inside of him, enough to bubble over the top. "Dixie and Mopsy, they were busy with the dessert, and the doorbell rang but I was…" He paused, thinking of Logica Burke's ridiculously short dress. "…in the entrance hall."

His father continued to stare blankly. "I answered it." Scorpius continued. He wasn't sure what to say next, because he was still unsure as to who the visitor was, why he was here and where he had come from.

"Who was at the door, Scorpius?" Draco probed, he looked a little sharper now.

He crossed his arms, Scorpius watched as his father's hand moved for the mark, he imagined it must still be throbbing. Dark images of bubbling skin.

He gasped just managing to pass it off for a casual teenage sigh. "Maybe you should come see for yourself he's in my room."

"He?"

"Yes."

"He's in your room." Draco said slowly, this was encouraging a little bit of the Malfoy drawl was seeping back in.

He asked to speak to you, you in particular. But you were busy at the party (and after that likely dying in our guest bathroom, Scorpius thought)… I couldn't interrupt you for this. (…he didn't want me to, because he was scared out of his wits of you…) I…he didn't want to bring attention to himself." It was hard, the night had gone so differently to that, it was not a mere dinner party.

"Who is it, Scorpius? You need to tell me. Right now." Draco demanded, as if it would at all help. Scorpius was lost in a dark dark sea. To make matters worse Draco grabbed Scorpius' mothers wand, waving it about like a first year.

That seemed a little risky.

"Dad, relax. I'll take you." Scorpius said quickly.

As Draco and Scorpius hurried to the latter's bedroom, Draco found himself thinking inexplicably of Severus Snape his old potions master and mentor. It was not that Draco had not thought of him often in the last few years, but it was the rather creeping feeling of the man looking over his shoulder that had suddenly occurred to Draco. So much so it made him look back down the corridor. This provoked a probing expression from Scorpius.

They stood outside Scorpius' bedroom door with the air of two people about to open the Chamber of Secrets. Not that Scorpius knew anything about the Chamber, Astoria would never have let Draco tell Scorpius anything about Slytherin lore or even the darker shades of the Malfoy history. No, the boy had to be protected from his own family, Draco didn't like it but he understood why. If Scorpius had to go out into the world knowing the things his family had done, he'd never grow up normally. It was best just not to know. It was also remarkable that he'd never found out himself. Draco had often wondered why he hadn't, how it was even possible that is son was so ignorant. Any child from a family as notorious as the Malfoys would surely be picked on at school for having Death eater heritage, or worse in their case, they were right in Voldemort's inner circle. There was surely a whole crowd of Potters and Weasleys that should be ostracizing Scorpius at school but apparently not. How could the child not know?

That was a question of many that Draco currently had. However he knew it was not the time to be thinking about it because at that moment Scorpius' bedroom door swung open. It was dark inside the room, apparently Scorpius had doused the light. A solid shape, however, stood in the doorway, dim and indistinct. It was a man and as he moved nearer, stepping into the light, his features became familiar.

But it couldn't be. That man was dead. He had been dead for years and years.

Draco took a step back.

"Scorpi-" Draco began to say, his voice coming out hoarse and shocked.

But the man was unmistakeable. He was infamous. The black scraggly hair, gaunt face and grinning black eyes belonged to none other than Sirius Black.

It was only after a long cup of restorative tea that Draco had resumed what could be termed a normal state of mind. Across the table, a dark man, and a fair boy stared expectantly at him. The man was grinning, a grimy smile that only someone who had been removed from civilized society for a very long time could smile. The man lifted his hands to the table, Draco could tell they were brown from exposure and hard living, and the nails were black. Ew. He caught himself wrinkling his nose in the mirror opposite.

After a short pause where he tried to unwrinkle it, Sirius Black let out a gruff chuckle, and Scorpius stared wide-eyed in something akin to silent horror, everyone finally cleared their throats. Draco spoke first.

"Well." He said, and the word hung in the air for a good few minutes, pulsating with awkwardness like a turtle that had beached itself. The tea belched a plume of steam into the air. "Hello."

Sirius chuckled again. "Believe me, Malfoy, if I had had the choice I wouldn't be here either." Sirius glanced at Scorpius who was now frowning. "Though it has been interesting. And if you don't mind me saying," He smiled genially. "your beds are quite comfortable." Scorpius was now the one to be grimacing.

Draco tried to throw a sharp glance in Scorpius' direction without it being too obvious. Sirius caught it though. "Yes, if I were you, a Malfoy, I would definitely teach my son to be a little more cautious."

"Don't tell me how I should raise my son." Draco snapped automatically. The tea cup seemed a little too hot in his hands then.

"Of course not, you Malfoys have a patented method in any case…"

Sirius' smile was mocking now, and Draco didn't like it. Really, the man was completely disagreeable, from his laughing black eyes to his dirty black hair to his ruined Black name.

"If your family had had one maybe, oh wait, whoops your blood line is dead now, isn't it? No use then, is it?" Draco sneered, knowing it was childish but he couldn't resist. Some things were as ingrained within you as weeds in a flowerbed; no matter how hard you tried to remove them they would never go away.

Sirius laughed, rough, canine barks of laughter. "At least show a little maturity around your son, Malfoy. The little ones are always impressionable."

"Your face is impressionable!" Draco wanted to say, but bit his tongue and forced a calm smile onto his face, he realized how much he probably looked like his father at that moment, he didn't like it, so he switched to a neutral gaze. Sirius raised a brow.

"Not a little bit like, Lucius, are you? If you were you'd probably be hobbling around with that stupid cane…" The man paused, as if waiting for Draco to respond. This time Draco was expecting his taunts, and ignored it. There really were more pressing issues. First of all, why was deceased Sirius Black sitting in his kitchen looking very un-deceased, and very dirty for someone who should have just emerged from heaven? Perhaps he had gone to hell, and the grime and reek were from all the sulphur. Draco pondered this. Was it possible for Gryffindor with all their precious values to go to Hell? He frowned at Sirius, who didn't look remotely like an angel. Yes it was entirely possible.

He may as well ask.

"Listen, Black, I don't mean to be rude. Well, to be honest I'd certainly like to but why, and…just how are you… how can you possibly be… here? You're supposed to be dead." He trailed off.

"What?" Sirius said abruptly.

"You're supposed to be dead." Draco repeated.

"Dead? Me? How can this be? How is it even possible for someone this handsome to die? I just…I don't believe I can handle it! I can't believe I hadn't noticed before! Dead! Dead?! Me?!" Sirius cried, jumping to his feet, while the Malfoys stared horrified.

There was another long silence, as Sirius inhaled deeply.

Then Sirius grinned, and sat down. "Nice of you to catch up, Malfoy. I think we all know I'm dead. Last thing I remember is my dear cousin Bella knocking me into the Great Beyond. Lovely family, ours. Anyway, I'm back now." The grin that was on his face disappeared very suddenly. Draco felt a chill in the room as Sirius blinked before speaking again. "Things are not going well at all, Draco. The very world you live in is unraveling. The dead are rising. And you know what that means, don't you? Everyone who has died will rise. Everyone. Even..."

It felt as if the room were spinning again. A loud howling like a pack of wolves filled Draco's ears, and the lights in the kitchen suddenly winked out.

Draco grabbed his wand, rising quickly to his feet. Scorpius had already lit his wand. Draco looked around the kitchen, the wandlight catching on the pots and pans dangling from the ceiling, the dishes from the dinner, then Sirius's gaunt face and Scorpius' white one. Sirius's hollow eyes were haunted in the darkness.

"Someone's here." He whispered, before vanishing.

Draco glanced up wand aloft, just as the huge black dog padded out of the kitchen, and someone turned the lights on.

Astoria stood in the doorway, her face was grey, her eyes wide and fearful. She still had on her evening gown, and her wand was in her hand pointed at her husband and son. Mopsy and Dixie stood beside her, clutching at the folds of her dress. They were shaking.

When she saw it was Draco and Scorpius, she lowered her wand, trembling violently.

"Oh, Draco!" She breathed, taking a shaky step towards her family. Her husband moved to catch her as she threatened to fall. "Where were you? You weren't in your bed. I thought you-I thought you had…the mark…"

Draco couldn't understand her wild mutterings, as she gripped him hard. He sat her down and gave her his tea. To Scorpius he motioned towards the door. The boy nodded, hurrying out.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Draco murmured, rubbing her shoulders. She was crying now, and he wondered what had caused her to be so completely distraught.

"Did you go to them, Draco? Did you heed the call?" She was muttering.

"No. I'm still here. I haven't left the manor the whole evening."

"He's back, Draco. He's risen again. We'll never be safe. We'll never escape him."

"Who, Astoria?" But he knew, because it was obvious, if they were all coming back. If Sirius had said could be trust, the next logical step could only be…

"We need to call Harry Potter," Draco said. And well, even he couldn't believe he'd said it.