Chapter 2. James Potter.
He stood in the middle of the Zabini's parlor with a growing feeling that everything that was happening was but a nightmare, from which he just couldn't wake up. Because twenty four hours ago it would not have crossed his mind that this could happen again… That he would be once again fearing for the lives of his loved ones. That he would be running down a secret passage, looking at Malfoy's back, ram-rod straight, as though frozen in a seizure, and thinking whether they would be able to save…
Déjà vu? Perhaps, except last time Xenia was with him. And so was Theodic Mancilli, who as good as told them where to find Lily. Now it was just the two of them – him and Malfoy – up against an unknown, faceless enemy, whom they were hoping to give the name to – Zabini.
And so when Fritz walked in the room, James all but forced himself to believe that this was the end of the matter, that a bit longer – and they would see their wives, and pull them out of this stupid game with their past.
Potter peered into the younger Zabini's face, trying to tease out the truth, to convince himself that they had come to the right place. Because Fritz has changed since the last time they had the honor of seeing him. Back then he crashed the graduation party at Hogsmead, pale, gaunt, wild-eyed. He shrieked – his voice breaking often – blaming Malfoy for all his family's misfortunes. Back then that crushed boy was not capable of much more than waving his hands and screaming, prompting the Seventh Years to laugh at him.
And now? Is he capable of more now, when Priscilla was back home, she, who had always directed her younger brother's every thought and breath? Looking into Fritz's cold, collected face, James knew that he was. He knew that and believed that Xenia and Lily were somewhere close…
Zabini eyed his visitors coldly and even hatefully, but his chin was pulled up proudly. His arms were crossed, as though letting the unbidden guests know who was in charge.
"Scorpius, why are you here?"
Potter started, only now realizing that Fritz did not enter alone. Next to him was a shortish woman in a grey dress, her ashe-blonde hair put away into a net. Once, she must have been beautiful, like her daughter, but now, her cheeks sallow, her eyes puffy, as though she had cried recently, with deep groves around her mouth, she looked old and unwell. He voice was quiet but not without a challenge, which lacked in her a tad lost gaze.
"I wish to talk with Priscilla," Scorpius said. And James didn't let on his surprise. He had not thought much beyond getting here, of how they would get at the truth, but the very fact that Malfoy knew how to get into the house through the hidden passage, made him optimistic. Walking down the dark and chilly corridor, which, judging by a lack of cobwebs, was well-used, James mistakenly thought that they were traversing a path beneath the Zabini's ancestral home. However, it turned out that the passage merely led to a closet next to the parlor, bypassing the guards at the gate and at the entrance.
What would they want with Priscilla? Or did Malfoy Carry the Veritaserum?
"What makes you think that you can show up…?"
James hemmed at the bravado in Fritz's voice, but his mother, weak though she looked, made him stop with a wave of her hand. A strong woman, Potter suddenly realized; how hard must it have been on her, to lose almost all her children at once…
"Scorpius, what for?" Mrs. Zabini turned her gaze at Malfoy. "She has paid her debt to society. You know that. She is ill…"
"I have to speak with her," Malfoy insisted. "You know that I shall do it, even without your leave…"
James kept his eyes on Fritz, trying to decipher Malfoy's intentions. Judging by the conversation, his friend was well-known here. And Malfoy knew the house and the family just as well. Would it help them? And why are they here? Why did James, as much as he tried to make himself believe in the opposite, have a nagging feeling that rescuing the girls would not be as simple as this. Too plain, too obvious… Malfoy must realize this as well. But then why do they need Priscilla?!
"You will not get anywhere near her!" Fritz almost hissed, reaching for his wand. This chap clearly remembered what happened on his last day at Hogwarts. Potter, however, had other things on his mind than school memories, and he was not at all feeling sorry for this slightly unstable boy with dubious devotions…
"Fritz," chided her son Mrs. Zabini, who, it seemed, pondered Malfoy's words. "Fine, Scorpius, you may talk to her. For a few minutes. Remember, though: she is ill. And if she has an episode…"
"If she truly starts feeling ill, I shall leave," Malfoy promised immediately and, James realized, candidly. And he also thought that Malfoy must be empathetic to the Zabini's mother. Could that empathy be rooted in his childhood, the one Scorpius had before he, James Potter entered his life?
"Here, please," the woman motioned them into the hallway, with Fritz right on her heels. "I have to forewarn you: the house is equipped with detectors that go off at anything stronger than household spells."
If not for the situation, James would have chuckled: yes, people in this house knew Malfoy well, indeed. Oh well, they would figure out a way to make Zabini talk without magic. They have to!
Following down hallways and up some flights of stairs they reached the room illuminated clearly by a spell. It had to be magic, because the sun had long set, but the room was filled with light and warmth, like an incubator for sick hippogriff chicks that Gruff got into breeding after school. He even gave his classmates a tour once, and James and Malfoy almost laughed themselves sick at the idea that Richard had caught Potter's idea of breeding post owls. How long ago that was…
Unfortunately, he felt anything but a desire to laugh just now. And it was not a hippogriff chick, sitting by the window, reading a book.
She barely changed at all in the time that they had not had the pleasure of seeing her. Priscilla looked up at them, and her cold eyes narrowed momentarily – either in ire or some other unpleasant emotion. She shut her book and glanced at her mother, clearly awaiting an explanation. Fritz, shoving James with his shoulder, walked over to his sister's chair, as though prepared to shield her with his body.
"Priscilla, darling, Scorpius wishes to speak with you. Just please don't get vexed." Mrs. Zabini's voice was almost pleading. She glanced at Malfoy and stepped back. "I shall be in the hallway…"
She left, clearly uneasy to leave the four of them in the same room. James saw out of the corner of his eye that Fritz took out his wand, but Malfoy remained unperturbed.
"Priscilla, did you open a beauty salon while at Azkaban?" he asked sarcastically, thrusting his hands in his coat pockets. "Or launched a drama show, starring as a mentally unstable repenting sinner?"
"What do you want, Malfoy?" the girl ignored her brother who tried to say something.
"From you? Nothing," Scorpius said, and James once again felt stumped as to what exactly they were seeking here. "I simply decided to use the chance to express my delight at your prompt release…"
"Malfoy!" Fritz burst out, but went out like a light at his sister's glare.
"Malfoy, what do you want here? Or did you decide to walk your entourage?" Priscilla nodded condescendingly toward James. Potter would have taken exception to that, had his brain not been filled with concern for his wife and sister.
What are they doing here?
"Azkaban clearly affected your hearing," Scorpius remarked, taking out his wand, causing the younger Zabini to tense up again. "I don't need anything with you. I need your room."
Three of those present clearly understood Malfoy's meaning. But not James.
"What did you forget in our dungeons?" Priscilla asked, seemingly out of the blue, and Potter felt completely lost. All he had left was to rely on Malfoy, as usual.
His friend moved and walked over to the massive wardrobe in the corner of the room. The Zabinis followed him with their eyes, Fritz apparently wanting to stop him, Priscilla's silence holding him back.
"I was feeling bored, and I decided to tour the memorable places of my youth," Malfoy nodded, reaching out and feeling for something. Under James' confused gaze, the wardrobe started moving sideways, and in a few moments he saw a darkened passage. There they are, the dungeons. How convenient, indeed…
"Fine, go ahead," Priscilla's tone matched Malfoy's. "I have a feeling that you lost something… Or someone…"
Scorpius turned around and glanced coldly at Zabini. She smiled caustically at him.
"I think we shall take your brother with us," Malfoy said, motioning James over with a nod.
"What?!" Fritz even raised his wand, but his sister swatted his hand aside.
"Don't you dare casting spells in here!" she hissed. "Go with them."
"Pris!"
"I said: go," the girl pointed imperiously at the two chaps waiting at the entrance to the tunnel. "We have nothing to hide from them, and Malfoy's untimely death in our cellars would be highly undesirable right now…"
"Nobody would ever find him there," Fritz huffed, but walked reluctantly toward the wardrobe.
"He is resilient; he may crawl out," Priscilla remarked, as though she and her brother were not discussing anyone present. Malfoy didn't seem to care. "Have a nice stroll."
James let Fritz ahead, taking out his wand – just in case. After all, Malfoy usually knows what he is doing. Still, those Zabinis seem too calm…
Going down the winding staircase, James inadvertently remember a similar descent during his school days – the one where he ended up with broken legs… He did not want to repeat the experience, and following after Zabini who was practically emanated indignation gave him hope that they would make it down safe and sound.
"Malfoy, you…" Zabini finally dared to speak after a good five minutes of silence.
"Shut up and walk ahead," Scorpius ordered, and James seemed to catch a wave of his friend's wand hand.
"I hope that was not the Imperius," James said quietly.
"The very one. You can turn on the light," Malfoy replied.
Potter's wand lit up the small underground space where they ended up. Scorpius took the wand away from the Fritz's and tossed it aside.
"Listen, the Zabini's mother said…"
"We are deep beneath the surface; I doubt that the Ministry managed to get here with their detectors," Malfoy remarked, looking at Fritz. Zabini clearly was not putting up any resistance to the curse. "So, tell the truth, Zabini; I have no wish to dirty my hands with you again…"
James saw that the boy did not even try to protest – he merely nodded obediently, looking at the two friends with clouded eyes.
"Did you kidnap Lily and Xenia?"
James almost moaned aloud when Fritz shook his head.
"Tell the truth."
"No, I did not!" Zabini said in monotone.
"Do you know who did?" Scorpius persisted, unwilling to believe that they hit a dead end.
"No."
"Are they in this house or beneath it?"
"No."
"When and where did you see them last?"
"Two months ago, at the Diagon Alley," Fritz said dutifully.
James and Scorpius exchanged glances.
"Do you know anything about them?" Malfoy made the last-ditch attempt.
"Of course…," James' heart lurched. "Lily Potter is Harry Potter's daughter, and the sister of James Potter…"
"Oh, shut up!" Scorpius waved his wand. "Forget all I asked you and return to the room."
They stood alone in the gloom.
"What shall we do now?"
"I don't know. Go home, for now," said Malfoy, putting away his wand. "To our place. We'll see, once we are there."
It took them five minutes to leave the Zabini's home without a word and Apparate to the alley near Lily's and Scorpius' house. They silently mounted the stairs and stopped dead in their tracks.
"What the…?"