17/09/2016
She Only Loves Me When I'm There
It must be five years ago now
Skulking home one public holiday
Eighteen, eighteen, baby brains
I got the nervous twitching algorithms
Right beneath the trees
Half expect her knuckles now to bring me to my knees
If she wants this to be
She'll have to see the things that I have had to see
It was impossible to sleep late in the girl's dormitory in Gryffindor Tower. By the time she woke up and pulled back the curtains of her four-poster, the room was already abuzz with activity: Elena Fortescue and Sally Wood were rifling through each other's makeup bags to exchange lipsticks, Kim Nguyen had emptied her entire trunk onto the floor in search of her school shoes, and Chandra was sitting on the floor of the room with her tarot cards spread out before her, trying to swat her cat away as he attempted to claw at the deck.
'Sage, stop it. Stop it. Oh, morning, Rosie.'
'Morning,' Rose muttered, rubbing her eyes. 'What time did you get in last night?'
Chandra gave a sigh. 'Not until midnight. I'm so bloody tired. I didn't even get time to do a tarot reading last night.'
Elena, who was now sitting on her bed with a compact mirror applying mascara, looked up at Chandra. 'And how is Donny, Chandra?'
Chandra frowned down at her tarot cards. 'I'm not sure – I think he's pretty good.'
'Donny's old news now, Elena,' said Rose as she got out of bed. 'It's all about Connor Davies now.'
Elena and Sally gave excited trills.
'Connor?' said Kim Nguyen. 'Oh God, Chandra, how did that happen?'
As Chandra launched into a description of how her first rendezvous with Connor over the summer, Rose paused by the window to glance out over the grounds. The morning sky was alight with swarming red and orange clouds, stretching before her to meet the dark, shapeless peaks of the Forbidden Forest that lay at the edge of the horizon. It was worlds away from her parents' house in London.
After she had showered and dressed and Chandra had finished her tarot reading, the two girls left their dormitory.
Albus waiting in his usual armchair beside the hearth and gave a yawn as they approached. 'Morning.'
'Morning, Al,' said Chandra brightly. 'How did you sleep?'
Albus hesitated and – inexplicably – glanced around the common room as if to check if anyone was listening. 'Er … Not well.'
Chandra pouted. 'Oh, dear, what happened? It always feels a little funny coming back to school after the summer, doesn't it? You might want to do a good cleanse of your dorm – I have some sage if you need it.'
Albus seemed unsure how to respond to this. 'Er … No. I don't think it's that. I … er …'
Rose rolled her eyes. 'Tell us on the walk downstairs if you're going to be all dramatic about it, Al. I want breakfast.'
They climbed through the portrait hole and started down to the Great Hall. The corridors were lively and full of students, chatty and giddy at being back at school and around friends, but Albus looked morose.
'So?' Rose prompted. 'Out with it, Al.'
Albus hesitated, glancing around the corridor to see if anyone was paying them any attention. 'I … On the way back to the common room last night, I ran into James and Finlay.'
Rose raised her eyebrows. 'Did that really require such digression?'
'You don't get it.'
'Well, if you told us that might help. What happened?'
Once again, Albus glanced up and down the corridor, checking for any onlookers, but it was deserted. Never the less, when he spoke again he had lowered his voice: 'The Slytherins caught the three of us eavesdropping on them and now I think they're going to try to murder us.'
The proclamation was enough to fault Rose's composition. 'Pardon?'
'What?' gasped Chandra.
They had reached the bottom of the marble staircase when Albus concluded his recount of the previous evening's misdemeanours. When he finished, Chandra was looking at him with wide, horrified eyed.
'Oh, Al,' she murmured. 'Oh, Al, that's awful. They tried to Crucio James? Oh, Merlin …'
Rose chewed her lip, thinking quickly, before she said slowly, 'And you're sure that's what you heard?'
'Yes, Rosie, of course. He said …' And Albus once again lowered his voice. '…
"Cruci" and then – well – then Zabini and Malfoy stopped him.'
'Well, maybe he was going to say something else,' suggested Rose. 'Maybe he was going to say … I don't know, Crucible? I heard that book's on the Muggle Studies syllabus this year. Perhaps Montague is actually a massive fan of Muggle literature.'
Albus glared at her. 'Hilarious, Rosie.'
They entered the Great Hall, finding it loud and noisy. As they took their seats at the Gryffindor table, Rose could see Albus was casting nervous glances towards the Slytherin table, but none of the four students that he had encountered last night were paying him any mind: Goyle and Rosier were sitting with the other fifth years talking and laughing, and Mulciber and Zabini were doing the same.
'That is so awful,' said Chandra sadly as she poured them each a cup of tea. 'Poor James. I hope he's okay.'
'He's fine,' dismissed Albus. 'He didn't even seem to care – it was really annoying. I tried to tell the teachers what had happened and he stopped me. He said he doesn't want to turn it into a thing. He's so bloody irresponsible. If Montague's going around cursing people, the teachers should know.'
'Well, maybe he has a point. You don't really want to give Montague more ammunition against you,' said Rose. 'I don't think the teachers take these things that seriously. Remember last year when he bewitched the Muggle Studies door? Sally Wood spent three days in the hospital wing because the burn on her hand kept spreading, but all Montague got was a detention.'
'But this is bigger than just cursing people,' insisted Albus. 'Didn't you hear what I said? They were planning something. I don't know what, but they wanted Malfoy's help. And all of those kids – Montague, Zabini, Goyle, Rosier and Malfoy – well, their families … you know …'
Rose raised her eyebrows. 'They all have family members who were Death Eaters?'
Albus nodded fervently.
'But that was a long time ago,' said Chandra, though she didn't sound certain. 'I mean … They're all in Azkaban, right? And if they're not, it must mean that they were sorry, right?'
Albus gave her a dark look. 'What if they weren't really sorry though? You know, Rose's dad …'
Rose gave a sigh. 'Al, you cannot get all of your worldly opinions from my dad, okay? He's the most paranoid person on earth. He hates the Malfoys.'
Chandra gave a small sigh. 'I didn't even know Scorpius was friends with Goyle and Rosier – I never see him with them. He spends most of his time with Connor and Mori. He was sitting on the train with us yesterday when I went to the Ravenclaw's carriage.'
'Did he seem like he was acting weird?' asked Albus. 'You know, like … planning something?'
Chandra pinched her lips, trying to remember. 'I don't think so. But then I suppose I've never really spoken to him that much … He did seem a bit annoyed, maybe? He rolled his eyes a lot … but then perhaps he just doesn't like me very much.'
Rose wasn't going to say this, but she had noticed Scorpius Malfoy and Zaina Faheem's habit of rolling his eyes whenever Chandra spoke. Rose took this to mean that he was a conceited prat, but there was nothing particularly sinister about it.
'He likes you fine, Chandra. He just rolls his eyes a lot,' Rose assured her. 'I know Scorpius Malfoy is an arrogant twat, but that doesn't mean his family is plotting anything, okay? Now can we eat our breakfast, please?'
Albus apparently decided it wasn't worth arguing with her, but he continued to scowl as he served himself some scrambled eggs. They ate mostly in silence until a fluttering of wings from above announced the arrival of the morning post.
Rose looked up, searching for the sight of her parents' tawny owl but the only owl that came towards them was a barn owl. It landed in front of Chandra and offered her a copy of the Daily Prophet.
'Finally,' said Chandra eagerly, untying the paper from the owl's leg. 'I really need to see my horoscope. I just want a nice start the year. Do you want to see yours too, Rosie?'
Rose didn't answer immediately. She still had her eyes on the sky-like ceiling, searching for any sign of a letter from her parents, but nothing came. She wasn't surprised. Her parents weren't in the habit of updating her about Ministry matters, but she had thought they might make an exception seeming her mother had just become head of the DMLE.
'Rosie?' coaxed Chandra. 'Are you okay?'
Rose tore her eyes away from the ceiling and back to Chandra. 'I'm fine – I was just thinking about this stupid prefect meeting I have to go to later.'
'Another meeting?' asked Albus. 'But you all met up on the train yesterday.'
'Yes, but Lucy needs to know our timetables before she can organise patrols. God, I hope I get put on patrol duty with Xan.'
'Well, let's see your horoscope first – Oh, God.' Chandra's sentence ended in a little squeak of panic and both Rose and Albus looked at her. She was staring down at the front page of the paper with wide, horrified eyes.
'What is it?' asked Albus, getting out of his seat to lean over Chandra. 'What does it – fuck.'
Rose too leant across to read the headline.
FORMER DEATH EATER DRACO MALFOY TAKEN IN FOR QUESTIONING IN GAMP MURDER INVESTIGATION
She felt Albus look up at her and bit back furiously, 'That doesn't prove anything.'
'Course not,' he grumbled back.
The three Gryffindors put their heads together to read the accompanying article.
In the early hours of this morning, Aurors stormed Malfoy Manor, the ancestral Wiltshire home of the Malfoy family. Draco Malfoy was taken into custody to be questioned about his knowledge of the murder of Gustav Gamp, former Head of the DMLE who was found dead in his home yesterday morning.
It is understood that a skirmish ensued, with the Auror Office turning to force when Mr Malfoy resisted initial requests to present himself to the Ministry for questioning relating to his knowledge of Gamp's murder.
This is not the first scandal the Malfoy family has found itself in over its long history. One of the last fully Pureblood families, the Malfoys played a prominent role in the Second Wizarding War. Both Draco Malfoy and his father Lucius Malfoy were known Death Eaters and remain some of the few who escaped imprisonment following the Post-War Trials from 1998 and 2000.
Albus shifted beside her, straightening up as he finished reading, but she refused to glance around at him. She didn't want to see the I-Told-You-So look that she knew he would be wearing.
Despite criticism from the public and Ministry officials alike, the Auror Office has defended the amnesty granted to the Malfoy family for their role in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name's second rise to power. Head Auror Harry Potter was unavailable for comment, having been admitted to St Mungo's earlier this morning.
Her stomach gave an unpleasant turn and she raised her eyes to meet Albus's. She had seen him look like this before on numerous mornings in which the Prophet hailed bad news for the Auror Office. He sat rigidly in his seat, his face frozen, before he jolted upwards and was on his feet.
'Al!' she hissed at him, but he paid her, nor the on looking students, any mind as he bolted towards the doors of the Great Hall.
X
'It looks all pointy.'
'It's always been pointy,' he bit back.
'Yeah, but even worse now.'
He wondered if she was right, because when he arrived in the Great Hall, he could feel people glancing at him. He had thought that the matron had done a good job repairing his nose, but perhaps its recent break was obvious.
Hoping to see normal, Scorpius poured them each a cup of coffee, before he looked up at the bright blue ceiling. 'Nice day today. You want to go for a walk at lunch?'
Zaina didn't answer, however, and he glanced at her. She had rested her head in her hands and stared at him, fluttering her lashes as if deep in thought. He suspected she might be doing this on purpose to unnerve him.
'What?' he demanded.
'I just can't believe Potter would do that,' said Zaina. 'I mean, he's pretty scrawny, isn't he? His brother I can see, but not Albus … I would have thought you'd be able to defend yourself.'
'Jesus, what did you want me to do? Hit him back?'
'Well, he did break your nose, Scorp.'
'Yeah, because he's a fucking idiot. I wasn't even doing anything. I think he thought I was like – I don't even know … Going to try to help the Slytherins or something.'
'Well, why were you with Slytherins?'
He was getting really sick of talking about this now, but he tried to keep his tone even. 'I already told you: I have no idea what they wanted. They wanted my help with something. Who knows? They're all creeps.'
'Well, did you ask what it was they wanted?'
'Of course not. Why would I want to know?'
'Because, darling, I think it's easier to just get along with Zabini and Montague rather than trying to be a hero. If you don't want your nose broken again, that is.' And she raised a hand to touch his cheek gently. 'I don't want your beautiful face ruined for me.'
He wasn't finding Zaina's teasing particularly charming today, so as means of changing the topic he reached for an abandoned copy of the Daily Prophet that was sitting in the centre of the table.
'I wonder if they have any leads on …'
But he stopped talking as soon as he saw the headline.
FORMER DEATH EATER DRACO MALFOY TAKEN IN FOR QUESTIONING IN GAMP MURDER INVESTIGATION
His horror must have shown on his face because Zaina leant into him. 'What's … Oh my God.'
He dropped the paper down on the table, trying to steady his breathing. He could feel more eyes on him now. It wasn't his stupid broken nose that was getting their attention. He jumped to his feet.
'Scorpius …' Zaina hissed at him, getting up to follow him. 'Scorpius, wait …'
'Al, wait …'
'Rose, don't.'
'We don't even know if that article was right …'
'I need to check.'
'Then let's go to the owlery,' she urged, striding behind him as he hurried down the empty corridor. 'We'll owl your mum …'
'She won't be home if he's …' But he couldn't finish that thought. 'I just have to check.'
The doors of the hospital wing stood ajar, though the long room was empty for all but the school matron, it being too early in the term for students to have done themselves serious harm. Hannah Longbottom glanced up at the three of them from the bed she had been making.
'Oh, hello, you three – what's happened?'
Albus, struggling for breath, could manage no more than a panted, 'Where's Neville?'
Hannah peered at him, striding towards them from across the room, wearing the look of scrutinising concern she had mastered since becoming the school's matron. 'He's in our room having a cup of tea. Albus, dear, what on earth has happened?'
'I just need to talk to him,' he told her. 'Can I go in? Please?'
'Yes, Al, of course, but …'
Albus dashed across the hospital wing to the door that led it into the couple's adjoining quarters, Rose, Chandra and Hannah at his heels.
The Herbology teacher sat perched at the breakfast table beneath the window that gazed out at the lake, a copy of the Daily Prophet spread before beneath a bowl of porridge and a cup of tea. The look he gave Albus upon his entry told the boy he had already seen the article that dominated the paper's front page.
'Albus,' he told him gently, getting to his feet, 'how are you?'
'Did you see it?' he asked in a shaky voice. 'The Prophet – the arrest, and Dad …'
'Yes, Al, I saw.' He raised a steady hand to motion Albus forward to the breakfast table. 'Sit and have a cup of tea.'
'It said he was at St. Mungo's,' Albus told him. 'It said he was hurt at Malfoy Manor …'
'It didn't say that, Al,' Rose reminded him. 'It just said he wasn't available for comment …'
'It said he was at St. Mungo's,' he snapped at her, 'and I need to go see him – I need to talk to him.'
'But if we just owl your mum …'
'No, Rose …'
'Al, come on,' said Neville soothingly, 'would you please sit down? We can have a cup of tea before you go to class …'
'I'm not going to class.' He was starting to get angry now, seeing Neville's calm face and feeling Rose and Chandra looking at him. 'Dad's hurt and I've got to talk to Mum and it could take all day for her to owl me and the common room fire places aren't connected to the Floo Network but the professors' are so … so can I use your fireplace? Please?'
Neville seemed to consider him for a moment, before he gave a nod. 'Of course, Al. But quickly, because you better get to class … It's alright, Hannah, you go. I can do it.'
Hannah, who had moved towards the fireplace to tend to it, gave her husband a nod before she started from the room. As she passed him, she gave Albus's shoulder a quick brush with her hand as she did so that made him feel more like a patient than anything else.
Moments later, Neville was kneeling over emerald flames in the hearth, before he got to his feet and ushered Albus forward.
'Now, she may not be home, you know,' Neville reminded him gently. 'But if she isn't it probably just means she's out.'
'Okay.'
'Don't let yourself jump to conclusions, okay?'
'Okay.' But his heart was already beating hard enough to make his whole body shake.
He hobbled over the to the fireplace, feeling Neville gazing down upon and knowing Rose and Chandra were watching from where they hovered by the door. He dropped onto his knees and, with a deep breath, plunged his head into the emerald flames.
'Hecate Hall, Godric's Hollow,' he instructed of the fireplace, before he was enveloped by the sickening spinning sensation he had been anticipating. He pressed his eyes shut, wincing through dizzying rotation before stability returned and he opened his eyes to see his kitchen before him.
Ignoring the unsettling quiet of the house, he called out into the kitchen, 'Mum! Hello? Mum!'
No reply came, and his heart began to beat faster than he thought it could ever muster.
'Mum! Mum, are you there? Mum …'
And then he heard hurried footsteps and the creaks that he knew could only belong to the old staircase that led into the manor's upper floors.
'Al?' he heard his mother's voice, distant and unmistakably on edge, before she came into view across the room in the doorway. She was donned in her dress-robes and her long hair swept up into a neat bun, her face pale and pained. 'Al, what's happened? Are you alright?'
'I saw the Prophet,' he told her in one breath. 'Dad – St Mungo's …'
And in an instant the panic across his mother's freckled face was swept away by the look of impatience she often wore when giving James one of his frequent reprimands.
'Oh, Al,' she said with a sigh, crossing to the fireplace to stand over him. 'How many times have we told you not to pay any attention to what the Prophet says about Dad?'
Albus gazed up at her in bemusement, and the rye murmur his mother gave told him his face exposed this.
'Your dad's fine,' Ginny told him. 'There was some accident at the office. You know the Ministry insists on admitting staff to St Mungo's no matter how minor the injury is. He's going straight back to the office as soon as the healers let him.'
'So ... so he's … he's okay?'
'Yes, Al, of course he is. I don't know how many times I've told you that if something happens, you and James and Lily are going to be the first to know.'
'I know but …' He suddenly felt terribly foolish, thinking of Neville, Rose and Chandra waiting for him to return the news. 'The Prophet said …'
'The Prophet is full of rubbish. You know that.'
'You write for them!'
'The Sports section,' she told him rather defensively. 'I can't stand any of their political coverage.'
'So ... so you're going to see Dad now?'
'No, I'm working today,' she told him. 'He might have been emitted by now. I haven't spoken to him. Dennis just let me know what was going on.'
'Oh,' was the only reply Albus could muster.
Ginny paused for a moment, gazing down at her son with a look that Albus thought may be somewhat pitying. 'I'll have him write to you, okay?'
'He doesn't have to.'
'Well, he'll want to,' she assured him. 'He knows how to look after himself, your dad. You don't need to worry, Ducky, okay?'
'Okay.'
'Have you had breakfast?'
'No.'
'Well, you should go eat something. It's your first day back.'
'Okay.'
He watched his mother straighten her robes before she asked, 'Are you using Neville's fireplace?'
'Yeah, I came and asked if I could.'
'Could you tell him I want to talk to him for a minute?'
Albus knew what her intentions were, and he gave her a nod. 'Okay. Bye, then.'
'Bye, Ducky. Have a good first day, won't you?'
'I hope work's okay.'
'Thank you, Ducky. Speak to you soon, okay? And let Neville know, please.'
He gave her another nod, returned the kiss she blew him, and, shutting his eyes, pulled his head from the flames. Opening them he found himself back in the Longbottoms' office, Rose watching from across the room, brows knitted together. Chandra was beside her, her hands pressed over her mouth in fear. Neville was standing over him with a hand offered to help him up. He got to his feet and dusted the soot of the fire off of his front, murmuring with downcast eyes, 'Dad's fine. They just sent him to St Mungo's for a check-up.'
Rose gave a deep sigh and Chandra gave a little squeak of relief.
Neville gave him a great clap on the back. 'Good! That's great, Al. Told you, didn't I? Your dad's too stubborn to let anything get the best of him.'
Albus gave another one of his weak nods. 'Mum wants to talk to you.'
'Oh, she does?' Neville glanced towards the fireplace with a look that told Albus he too knew that Ginny had not approved of his enabling of her son's anxieties. 'Well, I best pop in for a chat. I've got your timetables over there on the desk if you want to grab them.'
'Thanks, Neville,' said Rose.
'Yeah, thank you,' murmured Albus. 'And I – thanks.'
'It's no problem, Al,' Neville assured him, giving him another clap on the back, before he dropped to his knees and plunged his head into the fire.
Ginny's voice could be heard in an instant, unintelligible but loud enough to reach them through the fireplace, and the three students exchanged looks before crossing to Neville's desk to collect their timetables.
'So, he's okay?' Rose asked once they were out in the corridor on their way back to the Great Hall.
'He's fine. He wasn't even at Malfoy Manor. It was just some office accident.'
'Oh, thank goodness,' sighed Chandra.
He felt inexplicably awful in the wake of speaking to his mother. Of course he had panicked; of course she had dismissed him. Rose had been right, as had Neville, and no doubt James and Lily would have passed over the article with no panic at all.
As if to change the topic, Rose glanced down at her timetable. 'Oh, damn, we've got Charms first with the Hufflepuffs.'
Albus opened his mouth to reply, but fell silent at the drawling voice he heard reach them from around the corner in the next passageway.
Rose seemed to have heard nothing, and continued to tell him, 'I don't know how they let an idiot like Smith teach …'
'Shut up!'
'What – Al, watch it!' she snapped at him, as he took a firm hold of each of the girls' arms and pulled them up against the wall of the passageway.
Rose rolled her eyes. 'What's the matter with you?'
'Shh, listen!'
Rose fell silent, pressed against by Albus' arm, waiting to catch what he was straining to listen to.
'Scorpius, you are being such an idiot!'
'Look, Zaina, I don't want to talk about it …'
'You already got detention. Do you really want to risk getting taken off the Quidditch team?'
'What does that have to with anything?'
'Because you're going to get caught!'
'Zaina, I told you, that's not where I'm going …'
'You don't even know how to apparate! What do you think you're going to do?
'Would you calm down?'
'God, you're being such a baby! He hasn't even been charged with anything yet so I don't know why you're so upset …'
'Look,' Malfoy snapped at her, suddenly vicious, 'you don't know what you're talking about, so I'd stop if I were you.'
There was silence in which Rose and Albus exchanged glances, before it was broken by the sharp, quick footsteps.
'Scorpius,' Zaina called. 'Don't you dare walk away from me.'
And then, suddenly, the Ravenclaw rounded the corner to almost collide with Albus. The three Gryffindors gazed up at Malfoy and he gazed back, and Albus felt his hand flinch towards his wand before Rose caught his wrist in an act of restraint.
'Scorpius!' thundered Zaina, rounding the corner after Malfoy, and her face flushed as she caught sight of Gryffindors. 'Oh, listening in were you? That's nice.'
'Can't a person walk down a corridor anymore?' retorted Rose.
'Oh, yes, a nice walk pinned up against the wall enjoying my conversation with my boyfriend.' Zaina's voice sounded sweet, but bristled with rage. 'Don't you have anything better to do?'
'What, like bicker with my boyfriend for the whole school to hear?' asked Rose.
'Only those sad enough to skulk around corners listening in,' snapped Zaina, and she laid a hand on Scorpius' arm. 'Come on, Scorp.'
Malfoy did not appear to hear her. He gazed down at Albus who glared back up into the Ravenclaw's sharp, grey eyes. His nose had apparently been fixed since the previous evening and was now looking like it always did.
Albus felt his hand twitch involuntarily towards his wand, ready to defend himself, and then, in one fluid motion, Malfoy shrugged of Zaina's hand and pushed past them down the corridor.
'Scorpius!' Zaina barked at him, but if he heard her he gave no sign of it.
'Albus,' muttered Chandra quietly, tugging at his arm. 'Come on, we should go to class.'
He cast Malfoy's retreating figure one last look before he gave her a nod and allowed her to lead him past a rigid Zaina who. By the stony look on her face, it seemed nobody had ever spoken to her the way Scorpius just did.
The first day of school passed as she had expected it would. They had Charms first, which began with Professor Smith giving them a terse diatribe about the seriousness of their OWLs. They received much the same advice from Neville in Herbology, Professor Karim in Transfiguration, and Professor Doge in Defence Against the Dark Arts.
When they were finally dismissed for the day, she was nothing but relieved. She, Albus and Chandra retreated to Gryffindor tower to capitalise on its quietness before dinner. After a summer's absence, they fell easily back into their usual evening routine: Rose was reading, Albus was writing in his journal, and Chandra was cleansing her deck of tarot cards with a smudge stick.
Once satisfied, she gathered up the cards and began to shuffling, looking around at the two other Gryffindors. 'Who wants to go first?'
'You can, Al,' said Rose without looking up from her book.
Albus was scribbling furiously in his journal, and it took a little nudge from Chandra to get his attention.
'Huh? Oh, no, Rose, you go first,' he told her before returning to his feverish writing.
'I'm reading. I'll go after you.'
Albus tore his eyes from his journal to glance at the book she had open before her. 'Dubliners? Haven't you read that before?'
'Yes, because I like it. Hence why I want to read it again – if you'll let me.'
'But you've got your prefect meeting,' he reminded her. 'You better go soon.'
'Oh, yes, you're right, Al!' cried Chandra. 'Come on, Rosie, we better hurry.'
Unable to think of another excuse, Rose snapped shut her book and slid from her armchair to join Chandra on the floor.
'Okay, now, split the deck,' Chandra instructed of her, twirling a lock of thick, black hair around her finger.
This was a needless direction: years of entertaining Chandra's tarot readings meant that Rose was well-versed in the process. She did as she was told and then watched as Chandra fixed the cards into her favourite spread, before flipping the first one over.
'The Nine of Swords,' said Chandra in the chilling whisper she adopted for her tarot readings. 'You've been suffered a recent shock – something that's worried you. Oh, Rosie, it's probably talking about Andrew. Are you okay?'
'Who's Andrew?' asked Albus.
'Her Muggle boy in London.'
Albus raised his eyebrows at Rose with a precocious smile. 'Oh, no, Rosie. Are you alright?'
Rose ignored him. 'Last week you said the Nine of Swords meant that I needed to look out for minor injuries.'
'The cards are up for interpretation,' Chandra reminded her matter-of-factly, moving to the second card. 'Oh, look – the Knight of Pentacles.'
'Hard work?' asked Rose lazily. 'Reminding me I need to study hard for my OWLs? My mum will be thrilled.'
Chandra frowned thoughtfully. 'No, I don't think so. I don't think it's about school. Maybe something bigger than that. Maybe about perseverance … breaking out of a routine.'
Rose raised her eyebrows. 'Very perceptive.'
'Oh, yes, I practiced a lot over the summer. Mum says I'm getting very good at it. She told me to always go with my first impression. I'm getting very accurate.'
'I can tell,' said Rose, avoiding Albus's eye for fear of cracking a smile.
Chandra beamed at the pair of them and flipped the third and final card. She blinked her long lashes at the faded image before her as if struggling to divine it through a heavy fog. 'Oh, dear…'
Albus sat up in his chair to peer down at the card. 'The Wheel of Fortune? Isn't that like … illusion?'
Chandra gave a feeble shake of her head, her bright, brown eyes still fixed on the card before her. 'It's reversed – that means bad luck. And … and disaster. Oh, no … that's really bad. I can feel it.'
Albus peered down at Chandra, who looked on the verge of tears, and then turned to Rose, who looked as unfazed as a person could manage. 'So, what's going to happen to her?'
'I … I don't know. But …' Chandra hugged her knees into her. 'I just don't know.'
'I wouldn't worry, Chandra,' Rose told her calmly. 'Let's wait and see if I get injured first.'
'Malfoy,' hissed Albus suddenly, and Chandra and Rose both glanced across at him. 'And Gamp. What if it's all connected?'
Rose rolled her eyes. 'Oh, for God's sake, Al. I am so sick of talking about this.'
'But what if they're planning something big? Have you looked at the Evening Prophet today? There was another attempted break-in at the Gamp house and he was missing from Charms today!'
'Yes, of course,' said Rose. 'That's their grand plan. Malfoy is going to take over the Wizarding World and I'm the only thing standing in his way. First, he murdered Gamp and now he's going to murder me.'
'Think about it,' insisted Albus, snapping shut his journal and dropping off the couch to join them on the floor. 'That card might not mean just you. It could mean something bad for everyone. He's definitely up to something. Did you notice he wasn't in Transfiguration today?'
In truth, Rose had noticed this: Zaina Faheem and the other Ravenclaws had arrived for class this afternoon together. The only one missing had been Malfoy.
She wasn't ready to admit this to Albus, however, so she said: 'Wow, he missed class? He's clearly a murderer.' When Albus continued to stare back at her fiercely, she bit back, 'You realise his father's just been arrested for murder. I don't know if I'd take the news too well either.'
Albus gazed at her disapprovingly. 'You'll have to start taking this seriously if more people start turning up dead.'
'Don't,' murmured Chandra. 'It's not funny.'
Rose raised her eyebrows at Albus accusingly and he managed to look guilty. Glancing at Chandra, he muttered quickly, 'But I'm sure that won't happen.'
'Yes, so am I,' said Rose resolutely and she got her feet, gathering up her book and satchel. 'I better go. Chandra, you haven't done Albus' reading yet.'
'Oh … Yeah.' Chandra began to gather up the spread of cards, fumbling with the Wheel of Fortune. 'Yes, of course … Let me shuffle them.'
Rose gave Albus another look warning look before she bid them goodbye and crossed the common to the portrait hole.
The walls of the castle were cast in a golden light as she made her way downstairs. In a few brief weeks, she knew, the sun would not be out at this hour, and she would be forced to while away the hours during prefect duty in cold, dark corridors.
She had never been to the prefects' office before and walked rather leisurely around the fifth floor until she located it. It was guarded by a wide, oak door, at which she saw the tall, thin figure of Scorpius Malfoy.
'I didn't get given a password,' she heard him snap as she drew nearer, catching sight of the brass doorknob set into the door. It was welded into the shape of a dragon head and was currently gazing placidly up at Malfoy.
'Password?' the doorknob asked.
'I told you, I don't have the damn …'
He fell silent as he caught sight of her, straightening up as she drew nearer. Neither of them were in the habit of paying the other much attention, and so it was unusual for her to get this close to him. She realised now how similar he looked to the man who had appeared in the Daily Prophet that morning: the same pointed face, sharp jaw, and pale, grey eyes.
She didn't have much time to take this in, however, because he bit at her, 'What's the password?'
'I didn't know we needed a password,' she replied coolly.
She extended a hand to try to turn the doorknob and in an instant the dragon head gave a low hiss, opened its mouth and sank its metal fangs deeply into her fist.
'Damn it,' she hissed, balling her bloodied fist into her robes.
'I already tried that,' he told her impatiently, raising his own fang-marked hand as evidence.
'Well, thanks for the warning,' she snapped. 'I don't suppose you tried knocking too?'
The glare he gave her told her he hadn't, and she raised a hand to rap smartly on the door as Malfoy slumped back against the wall. A moment later she was met by the sound of muffled footsteps from within the room, and the door was wrenched open to reveal Xan, who gave her a bright grin.
'You're in trouble,' Xan whispered to her teasingly, stepping aside to allow them entry. She looked over her shoulder and said to the room, 'They're here.'
Malfoy moved forward and she followed him into a wide room, gleaming with evening sunlight that streamed in through two tall, arched windows that stretched ten feet above her head to meet the high ceiling. Four polished pine wood tables were spread about the room, each one inlaid with a jewelled house emblem and large enough to comfortably seat each of the house's prefects. The far corner of the room held a desk and two high-backed armchairs, in which the head of school were sitting.
'What took you so long?' Lucy demanded.
'Sorry,' Malfoy muttered at her. 'I couldn't find the room.
Lucy glared at him before turning blazing blue eyes on Rose. 'Well?'
She did not answer immediately. She noticed now, as he hobbled forward towards the Ravenclaw table, that Malfoy had abandoned his usual straight-backed march that she had heard Albus and James ridicule on more than one occasion. Instead, he was hurrying forward doggedly with a faltering limp.
'Rose?' asked Lucy more pressingly, the colour rising in her freckled cheeks.
She pulled her eyes away from Malfoy to look back at the head girl. 'Yeah, I … I got lost too.'
Lucy seemed unconvinced but said nothing more as Rose hurried across the room to take a seat beside Xan at the Gryffindor table.
'We better get started if we don't want to run in to dinner time,' began Broderick Clearwater bracingly, hoping to redirect his counterpart's focus from the latecomers. 'We just need to work out a schedule for the patrols. You've all got your timetables, don't you?'
There was a murmur of affirmation and shuffling from around the room as the prefects withdrew their timetables from their bags.
'You'll be patrolling in pairs,' Lucy infirmed them in a prickly voice. 'One patrol each a week. Ten in the evening until one and then one until four.'
There was a collective murmur of discontent from around the room from the older students.
'Luce, last year the patrols only went from ten until two,' said Xan.
'Well, this year it will be ten until four,' said Lucy acidly.
'Four in the morning?' scoffed Mei Zhao from the Ravenclaw table. 'That's ridiculous.'
'Well, um …' mumbled Broderick, looking uncertainly at Lucy for direction, 'we're going to have a look at your timetables and make sure the one to four shifts get covered by people with free periods in the mornings.'
'So, we'll have to sleep through breakfast?' asked Hamish Coote glumly.
'And we'll have less time to study,' added Lydia Thomas from the Ravenclaw table. 'Some of us have NEWTs to think about.'
'And OWLs,' added Zaina Faheem fumingly.
'It's one hour extra each,' Lucy reminded them in a prudish voice. 'One hour more. Is that so terrible?'
'This wasn't your idea, was it, Luce?' asked Xan, who was looking rather amused. 'Come on, be honest.'
'No, it wasn't,' snapped back Lucy. 'For your information, this new arrangement was Professor Sinistra's idea, so you all should be showing a little more respect.'
There was a chorus of groans and protests from around the room, before Xan piped up again. 'Is it because of the Ministry murder?'
At this question, the other students fell silent. Lucy glared at Xan in a way that reminded Rose distinctly of their grandmother, before she said sharply, 'Roxanne, that's not an appropriate question.'
'But is it though?' asked Donny Hopkins from the Hufflepuff table. 'I mean, if the professors think whoever did it might try to get in the school, shouldn't we know about it? So, we know what to look for?'
'The patrols have nothing to do with that terrible murder,' Lucy told him firmly.
'Then why have they extended the patrol hours?' demanded David Corner, a Ravenclaw seventh year.
'I've told you, Professor Sinistra wants us to.'
Finally, Scorpius Malfoy spoke for the first time. 'If you don't know, you should just say that.
'That is not what I'm saying!' shot back Lucy with enough force in her voice to make the head boy jump in his seat. 'I'm saying you and I and everybody else have no business knowing why Professor Sinistra wants it this way, but it's our job to do it for her. Now will you please let Broderick and I have a look at your timetables? Otherwise, we'll put you on whenever we like and you can all just deal with it.'
A murmur of hostile consent rose from around the room and the next half hour was dominated by discussion regarding when each prefect was available, punctuated by frequent protests from around the room. Rose, who found the prospect of patrols off-putting regardless of which night or hour she was assigned to, instead busied herself with casting sideways glances at Scorpius Malfoy when she was sure he would not meet his eyes. He was sitting as far as he could from Zaina Faheem, his hand disappearing beneath the table to clutch at his damaged leg.
It's ridiculous, she told herself. Totally ridiculous.
But what if it was true?
When the meeting concluded, Scorpius Malfoy was the first to rise, limping back across the room and wrenching open the door before many of the other prefects were even out of their seats. Rose gathered up her satchel, listening to the murmured conversation around the room. Most of the prefects seemed mutinous about the new patrol roster.
She left the room at Xan's side with a patrol scheduled with Mei Zhao, thinking about Chandra's tarot cards and Malfoy's limp.
He could feel the eyes darting towards him as he made his way through the corridor. He knew how he must look, with the cuts on his face and the bruising around his eyes, but he pushed it out of his mind. He could worry about that later.
Hermione was already waiting for him when he arrived at the interrogation room, loitering out the front with a scroll of parchment. When she heard Harry's footsteps he looked around. 'God, Harry, your face.'
He plunged his hands into his pocket. 'Thanks.'
'Well, I'm sorry, but you must know how it looks.' Hermione folded her arms. 'You know, you could have taken the day off – Dennis did. I could have spoken to him alone.'
'No, I want to be there.'
Hermione seemed to want to protest further, before she looked down at her feet. 'The healers from St. Mungo's contacted me. They couldn't save Lula.'
'No. So I heard.'
Hermione's face flinched slightly, as if she was trying to reign in her anger. 'You know it took them an hour to get her out from the rubble? You and Dennis were pulled out immediately, but her … They just left her there.'
'I'll look into it,' he assured her. 'Make sure I find out who did that, okay? But without Lula to help us identify Malfoy … We really need his statement, okay? And we need it quickly. Before he can invent an explanation.'
Hermione frowned again, as if she wanted to talk about Lula more, before she nodded. She held out her hand and offered Harry the scroll that she had been reading. 'I've been looking over the statement he gave when we first brought him in. Do you want to see it?'
'Don't worry – I've taken a look already.'
Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'And when did you do that? While the Healers were sealing up your face?'
'Exactly. Come on, let's get this over with.'
She gave a nod and turned towards the interrogation room. Harry signalled to the Auror standing guard and she waved her wand to unlock the door.
'He's waiting for you,' said the Auror.
'Thank you.'
He had seen Draco Malfoy many times since their school days: at Platform 9 3/4, at the Quidditch World Cup, at the trials and sentencing that followed the war. Despite this, he didn't think he had been this close to him since their school days. Now, as he took a seat across from him at the desk in the interrogation room, their eyes met. He was momentarily struck by how much older he looked.
Thankfully, Hermione spoke first. 'Sorry to have kept you waiting.'
'Six hours,' snarled Malfoy, his voice shaking. 'Six hours I've been locked in here at the mercy of your convenience. I hope you realise I'll be making a complaint.'
'Well,' began Harry, 'Hermione recently became Head of Department, so I wouldn't bother.'
It seemed to Harry that he might as well have spat in Malfoy's face. It contorted into a scowl, the new lines that Harry wasn't familiar with coursing across his pale skin. 'How dare you?'
'Let's take it easy,' said Hermione slowly, raising a hand to signal Malfoy into silence. 'You can do whatever you like once we're finished here, but for now we're entitled to ask you whatever we choose, and afterwards we may refer your to the Wizengamot for the administration of Veritaserum if we deem in necessary.
'But I'm sure you're familiar with the process,' said Harry.
Malfoy gazed at him with piercing, grey eyes. 'I already told your arresting officers. I have an alibi.'
'Yes, and we're in the midst of following that up,' said Hermione. 'Of course, with your alibi being your mother …'
'And my aunt,' said Malfoy hurriedly. 'Andromeda Tonks. I was with her all evening, until the early hours of the morning. She'll confirm that.'
'Even so, your aunt doesn't make the most compelling alibi.'
'You both know her,' Malfoy insisted. 'You know she wouldn't lie for me.'
'We've taken note of your alibi, Draco,' said Harry calmly. 'It is yet to be either approved or disproved. So, while my officers get onto that, it will make things easier for everyone involved if you explain to us your exact movements on the night of the thirty-first. Don't you agree?' He took Malfoy's silence for consent, and he continued. 'What time did you arrive at Andromeda Tonks's house?'
Malfoy hesitated, weighing his options, before muttering, 'Around quarter to ten.'
'Until when?'
'I returned home close to five in the morning.'
'And the reason for your visit to the Tonks household?'
'My mother and father have been living with Andromeda Tonks for the past two years, ever since my father's health started to decline,' Malfoy told him coolly. 'But you already know that.'
'Yes, I do, but I was referring to this specific visit,' said Harry. 'Ten at night until five in the morning. Those are very odd hours to pop over for a visit, don't you think?'
The venomous scowl returned, and it was several seconds before Malfoy told him in a biting voice, 'I've already explained this your officers.'
'Well, you can explain it to us now.'
Malfoy shifted in his seat, pressing his hands together, as if searching for something that was not there. When he spoke again, his voice was much softer. 'That was the night my father passed away.'
There was a brief silence in the room before Hermione spoke again. 'I'm very sorry to hear that.'
To Harry's surprise, Malfoy gave a thankful nod. 'He had been ill for a long time. We knew it was coming, but my mother didn't take it well. He died at half past eleven and my wife and I stayed with her for the rest of the night until she could sleep. My father's healer can confirm this. Lucinda Smethwyck – of Magical Ailments.'
Hermione nodded. 'We'll be sure to check with her.'
'Is there anything else?' asked Malfoy callously. 'My wife is waiting for me at home, having had her house stormed by Aurors. I would like to assure her that I will be coming home this evening.'
'Of course,' said Harry, 'but first we need to confirm your alibis. And that's not to say that we will not call upon further if we see it necessary. Does that sound reasonable?'
'No, it does not!' Malfoy snarled, rising in his seat as if propelled by his anger. 'My wife is- my wife is worried, and she does not respond well to stress, and I need to get back to her!
Hermione managed to sound civil when she spoke. 'I promise you – we're very sympathetic to the strain this is causing for your family at this difficult time …'
'Like hell you are!'
'… but just as you have a duty to reassure your wife, we have a duty to find Mr Gamp's murderer and hold him accountable,' finished Hermione calmly, as if no interruption had occurred.
'Like you give a damn who killed him,' muttered Malfoy darkly, settling his eyes upon Harry. 'You're as thrilled to see him gone as all of the other Muggle-lovers.'
'I should tell you, Draco, if you're trying to win any favours from us, you're not going about it too well.' Harry then turned to Hermione. 'Are we done for now?'
'Yes, I think so.'
And with that they drew themselves up, feeling Malfoy's glinting eyes following them, and strode from the interrogation room. The guard secured the door after them. Stepping out into the corridor, he saw that two wizards had arrived since he and Hermione had entered the interrogation room: Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mikhael Rowle.
'Ah, Mr Potter,' said Rowle evenly. 'Wonderful to see you up and about. How are you feeling?'
Mikhael Rowle was a tall, fair-haired man who might have been handsome if he didn't look so unwelcoming in his expensive-looking black robes. Though he was smiling at them, it was a twisted kind of smile.
Harry didn't return the smile. He was immediately cautious: it was unusual for the Minister for Magic to come to the Auror Office. 'I'm doing fine. What brings you both here?'
Kingsley gave a stiff smile. 'You're going to have to release him.'
'I'm sorry?'
Mikhael Rowle's smile broadened 'There was another attempted break in at Gamp's house. I think it's safe to assume Draco Malfoy wasn't behind it seeming he's been in custody all of today, isn't it?'
'That's impossible,' snarled Harry. 'I've got twenty-five Aurors stationed there …'
'They didn't get in, of course,' said Kingsley quickly. 'But somebody definitely gave it a go – a gouging charm used on the west fence. It wasn't any use with all the protective charms we've got around the place, and whoever tried it must have disapparated immediately once they knew they weren't getting in, but it means that whoever we're looking for is still out there.'
Harry ground his jaw. 'We have a witness placing Draco Malfoy at Gamp's house the night he died.'
Kingsley nodded. 'Yes, but his alibis check out, Harry.'
'What, his mother? Of course she'd lie for him.'
'Andromeda Tonks corroborates her story. And the healer who was tending to Lucius Malfoy. He died just when Draco said he did.'
'So then Lula was lying then, was she?' Hermione countered.
'Oh, come now, Mrs Granger,' said Rowle. 'You know how these elves are. They get a bit silly when it comes to things like this. They don't process things the way we do, you see. It must have misunderstood.'
'It's not a matter of her misunderstanding,' Hermione told him coolly. 'She was in an immense state of grief and was trying to recall memories from the most traumatic night of her life. And of course, in the dark she may not have seen the intruder clearly. Not to mention she had the whole Ministry pressing down on her for answers.'
'Ah,' murmured Rowle, slowly and triumphantly, 'but you agree that it was not Draco Malfoy she saw at Gamp's Manor?'
Hermione gave no response, and Rowle continued. 'And as the elf's testimony – which, really, I think should be discarded as it was evidently not in the right state of mind – was the only piece of evidence linking Mr Malfoy to the investigation, I think it would be wise of you to follow orders and release him before we are all made to face the errors of your judgment.'
'So Lula drives herself to suicide in order to tell us the identity of her master's killer and we're just going to ignore her information?' demanded Harry.
'She's an elf, Mr Potter, nobody understands how their minds work.'
'And we have grounds to charge him with murder,' snapped Harry. 'If Lula's information had been given before the Wizengamot that would have been enough to get them to convict.'
'But, Mr Potter, the information was not given before the Wizengamot,' contended Rowle. 'There was no Veritaserum, no follow-up interrogation, nothing to support its claims. Nothing but you and Mr Creevey.'
'Are you accusing us of lying?' demanded Harry.
'I would never do such a thing to a colleague, Mr Potter,' Rowle assured him without hesitation. 'But I am aware – as are many others in our department – that this current administration has been in favour of putting those with certain leanings in positions of power, and there may be some degree of prejudice toward those from Pureblood families.'
Harry opened his mouth to bark back, but Hermione beat him to it. 'Excuse me, Mikhael, are you saying that Harry and I are looking to use Draco Malfoy as a scapegoat?'
'Oh, Mrs Granger, I wouldn't dream of it,' he assured her jovially. 'You're not to blame, of course. The Minister, as brilliant as he is, has always had some affinity for Muggles and Muggle-borns, and it is only natural that he would feel some need to elevate them. But the war was a long time ago now and it is necessary for Mr Shacklebolt and his allies to put aside your bigotry …'
'Our bigotry?' spat Harry, unable to keep his voice even. 'Don't you dare to talk to me about bigotry, Rowle.'
Hermione grabbed his arm. 'Harry, calm down.'
'I'd listen to your superior if I were you, Mr Potter,' Rowle told him calmly, and his thin lips twisted into a deeper leering smile. 'It's time we even the footing between Muggle-borns and Purebloods, and I will not allow Draco Malfoy to be profiled based on his blood status.'
'Blood status!' spat Harry. 'We have a witness placing him at the scene!'
'Harry, please lower you voice,' urged Hermione.
'Hermione, are you listening to him?'
'Yes, I am,' she replied coolly. 'And I don't think I need to tell you, Mikhael, that I am profoundly worried to hear what you're saying. Suggesting that Purebloods need to somehow take back their power – I don't want to see that kind of rhetoric return to the Ministry, and I will not accept it in my office or in the DMLE, as least while I'm in charge.'
'Oh, forgive me, Mrs Granger,' cooed Rowle. 'The last think I want to do is cause ill rest in the department just as you're trying to consolidate your leadership. Please believe me when I say I'm here to assist you, and I feel that the best assistance I can give right now is offering a voice to the Pureblood community who have felt disillusioned in recent year and, perhaps, even in danger. Especially at a time when prominent Pureblood figures are being targeted.'
'We have no evidence that Gamp's murder was in any way related to blood status,' Hermione told him tersely.
'Ah, and that is why I believe that I am a necessary presence in your administration. It always helps to have an outsider to offer a different perspective, don't you agree?'
The smile he gave Hermione stirred something deep within Harry. He felt his fingers flinch towards his wand, but Hermione's grip on his arm tightened.
'Now,' said Rowle lazily, 'I'll go speak to Mr Malfoy, shall I? Tell him he's free to go.'
'Be sure to inform him that he is still a person of interest,' instructed Kingsley. 'He is not the leave the country.'
'Of course, of course, Mrs Granger,' Rowle assured them, starting towards the door. 'Lovely to see you all.'
The Auror guarding the interrogation room stepped aside to allow Rowle in, leaving Harry, Hermione and Kingsley alone in the corridor. The three of them looked at each, Harry bristling with anger and Hermione still clutching his arm. Kingsley gave them both taut smiles.
'I promise it will get easier,' he told them in a low voice. 'Once this case is closed.'
After just one day back at school, his relief at being back here had dissipated. He was already sick of having people look at him in the corridors. Already sick of his dorm mates. Already sick of having to live life under scrutiny, knowing he was never properly alone.
He skipped dinner that night, knowing it would be the only time he could count on his dormitory being empty. He thought if he had to pretend to act normal for another hour, he might end up screaming at someone.
No, he would much prefer to use this time to sit alone in his bed and attempt to read. He actually managed it relatively well and was fairly engrossed in his book for about half an hour before he heard a knock at the door. Drawing a deep breath, he tossed aside his book and went to the door. He opened it a crack, seeing a pair of bright, brown eyes and black ringlets. He opened the door fully, leaning against the doorframe. 'Hey.'
'Hi,' said Zaina. She didn't smile at him, but she didn't sound annoyed either. 'Can I come in?'
He was glad she was here, he realised, but he didn't really want to show it. He held the door open for her without saying anything and she came inside and took a seat on the end of his four-poster. He shut the door behind her and turned to look at her, keeping his distance. She looked so serene, as she usually did, with her legs folded and her heavy-lashed eyes fixed on him.
'So,' he said slowly.
'So. You weren't in class today.'
'Nope. I didn't feel like it.'
'Or at dinner.'
'Not hungry.'
Zaina pursed her lips. 'Well?'
'Well, what?'
She frowned slightly at him. 'Well, Scorpius, where did you go? Did you sneak out?'
He gave a heavy sigh. 'No, Zaina, I didn't, okay? Can you relax? I just didn't feel like seeing anyone, alright?'
She considered this with her sharp, unwavering gaze, before she seemed to decide to believe him. 'I saw in the paper this evening that they let you dad go.'
He nodded, ground his jaw. 'Yep.'
She gave a half-laugh. 'Well, that's good, isn't it? Why are you still sulking?'
He didn't really want to talk about this, but it didn't really seem like something he could avoid. He didn't want to look at her when he said this, so he fixed his eyes on the window. 'Mum wrote to me.'
'Is she okay?'
'She's fine. My granddad died last night, though.'
There was a beat of silence between them, a weight that settled over them. Then, in one fluid motion, Zaina got up and crossed over to him. He still didn't really want to look at her, but he allowed her to put her arms around him. 'Oh, Scorpius, I'm so sorry.'
He didn't want this – didn't want to be pitied. He cleared his throat heavily. 'It's fine. I … it's not like I knew him that well.'
Zaina cupped his face in her hands and he managed to look at her. She was peering at him closely, as if scared to look away. 'I know, but that's still really horrible. I'm sorry.'
He gave a shrug, not really knowing what he was supposed to do. 'Thanks.'
'Come on. Come sit down.'
He allowed her to lead him back over to his bed and she pulled him down, clutching her hand. It felt good to feel the warmth of her skin against his, even if he didn't want to say that. 'What happened?' she asked.
He shook his head. 'He'd been sick for a while. He … He and my grandma had been living with her sister. She was helping look after him because my parents … Well, I think he'd just been getting worse for a long time.'
'Will they take you out of school for a bit?'
Scorpius shook his head. 'Mum says Dad doesn't want to. He thinks it's better for me to stay on school.'
Zaina frowned, as if this was strange. He supposed it was strange. 'Not even for the funeral?'
Scorpius shrugged. 'I suppose not.'
'And are you alright with that? I mean, alright with not being there?'
In truth, he wasn't sure how he felt about it. He hadn't been close with his grandfather; he preferred not to be around him if he could help it. When he was around him, it was hard to forget what his family was – where their wealth and their manor house had come from. But when he thought of this now, he felt sickeningly guilty. The idea of having him be buried while he wasn't there made him feel even worse.
He didn't know how to say any of this to Zaina, however, so he muttered, 'I don't know.'
Zaina squeezed his hand again, looking at him closely. Slowly, she leant into him to kiss his neck. 'I'm sorry all this has happened, Scorpius.'
He nodded, not really sure how to respond to that. He wasn't quite used to this dynamic between them – having somebody that he was supposed to be honest with. It didn't quite feel right – as if he was playing at being a normal person.
Trying to keep his voice steady, he said slowly, 'I'm sorry about earlier.'
Zaina nodded slowly. 'It's okay. I know you were upset …'
'I wasn't upset. I just wanted to be alone.'
At this, Zaina gave him a kind of sideways glance, as if she was going to correct him, but she apparently decided against it. 'Okay.'
A silence lapped over them in which they sat rigidly on the bed, their hands clutched together. Zaina glanced around the room, as if searching for something else to talk about, and she reached across to the book he had left abandoned on his bed.
'What's this?'
'The Crucible. We have to read it for Muggle Studies.'
Zaina made a scoffing kind of sound, as if this was funny. Her long, nimble fingers flicked through the pages. 'Is it any good?'
'It's fine. It's kind of hard to understand. It talks about a lot of Muggle stuff.'
Zaina shook her head slightly and tossed the book away again. 'I don't know why you continued with that class. Everyone else I know dropped it as soon as they could.'
Scorpius gave a shrug. 'It's an easy class. Just a safe OWL, I suppose.'
Zaina seemed like she was going to challenge this further, until the door of his dormitory opened again. Connor Davies and Kienan Cornfoot came in, laughing about something to do with Quidditch, before they caught sight of Scorpius and Zaina they stopped.
'Oops, look like we interrupted something,' said Connor. 'We can come back. How long do you two need?'
Zaina laughed now, tossing her hair over her shoulder. It was admirable how quickly she could shift; how easily she transitioned into the playful, teasing Zaina. 'Don't worry, Connor, dear. Some of us have more self-control than you.'
'You say that like it's a bad thing.' Connor dropped down onto his four-poster and opened his bedside table to take out a bottle of wine. 'Anyone for a drink?'
Scorpius was about to decline, but to his disappointment Zaina said brightly, 'Ooh, yes please.'
'Excellent. And you, Scorpius?'
He gave a shrug. 'Sure, why not.'
He was forced to wait as Connor poured out five glasses and passed them around the room. Scorpius took a sip. The wine had a welcome kind of soothing effect, so much so that he was willing to tolerate Connor Davies.
'So, Scorpius,' began Kienan lightly, 'heard your dad got released. That's good.'
Scorpius didn't have anything to say, so he just sipped his wine and nodded.
'Has he said anything to you about it?' Connor had posed this question casually, as if inquiring about the weather, but Scorpius suspected that this was why Connor had bothered to offer him the wine.
'No, not really,' said Scorpius earnestly.
'Scorpius doesn't really talk to his dad about things like that, do you, Scorp?' Zaina looked at Connor and gave a wicked smile. 'We're all a bit stoic and secretive in the old Pureblood families, you know? Sounds stereotypical but it's true. My dad's the same.'
Connor laughed. 'Alright, forgive me – simple half-bloods like me wouldn't know that. Suppose your dads were thrilled that you two got together, were they? Keeping the bloodline pure and all.'
This conversation was annoying Scorpius, but Zaina seemed to be enjoying it. She tilted her head back and gave a chiming laugh. 'Scorpius's dad, maybe. Who wouldn't be thrilled that their son is dating me? My dad, I'm not so sure – I think Scorpius's families a little too controversial for his liking, to be honest with you.'
Kienan laughed at this and Connor took another sip of wine. 'Perhaps you ought to be with someone more simple then, Zaina.'
Zaina laughed again, which masked the sound of Scorpius putting his wine down. He got to his feet, not really sure where he was going, but deciding that anywhere would be better than here.
'You alright, Scorpius?' asked Kienan.
'I'm just kidding, Malfoy,' Connor assured him brightly. 'I wouldn't dare want to make enemies with your family.'
Scorpius tried to give a convincing smile and he held up his book. 'I'm sure. I just need to finish reading this for Muggle Studies, so I might go down to the common room for a bit. You three keep drinking though. Thanks for the wine.'
'I'll come with you,' said Zaina quickly, getting to her feet. 'I need to start that Potions essay.'
He didn't look at her as he crossed to the door. 'Don't bother. Stay here and drink.'
But Zaina ignored him, reaching his side and taking his hand, and she opened the door and led him out. Out on the landing outside his dormitory, she turned to look at him.
'Are you alright?'
'I'm fine, Zaina. I don't need you to comfort me.'
She raised her eyebrows at him. 'Am I not allowed to start my Potions essay?'
'I know you'd rather be hanging out with Connor, so you can just go.'
Zaina folded her arms, almost smiling. 'You don't need to pick a fight, darling.'
He wanted to argue, even though he knew it wasn't fair, and so he bit back, 'If I'm bothering you, I'm sure Connor will study with you.'
It was quite hard to argue with Zaina, he had realised, because she was quite hard to rile. It always felt like she was one step ahead of him. He kind of enjoyed that, admired her unshakeable nature, but not when she wasn't rising to meet him.
She surveyed him, her lips pursed together, before she gave a breathy sigh and took his hand. 'Look, I'm going to let you get away with being an arse because of your grandfather, alright? But this is a one time thing. Connor is my friend, alright? I'm not going to justify it more than that.'
He would have like to push back against this, but he couldn't quite find the energy, and she seemed to take his silence as defeat.
'Now, I'm going up to my dormitory,' she continued, 'and you can come with me or you can go down to the common room and sulk. But wouldn't you rather come with me?'
He considered this, looking down at Zaina. Her bright eyes, her dark curly hair, her plump lips. It was very easy to be convinced of thing when Zaina was the one trying to convince you.
Finally, he gave a nod, and she smiled back.
'Brilliant. Come on, then.'
As he crossed their front garden, he could smell the last of the summer's wisteria that grew over Hecate Hall's façade. The manor was silent as he stepped inside and, despite his aching hunger, he made directly for the stairs to his bedroom. He was too tired to think about eating.
The master bedroom was the last of the many rooms spanning the long, torch-lit passageway on the manor's second floor. When their children had been younger, they had slept with the door ajar, but now the door was pulled shut. He eased it open as quietly as he could.
Their bed sat beneath the window, a sliver of moonlight breaking through the cracks in the curtains and onto his wife's cheek. She did not look all of her forty years, her cheeks skill smooth and bright, while his own face held the lines and scars of a man older than himself.
He undressed, throwing his robes over the armchair that sat in the corner, and eased himself into bed beside her. She gave no sign of stirring, but he wasn't fooled; she was so still that it could only be conscious.
'Are you awake?' he croaked through the darkness.
'Yes,' she murmured back, not turning to face him.
'Did I wake you?'
'No, I was waiting to for you to get back.'
'You didn't have to.'
'I always do.'
Years ago, when they were first married, he would find her every evening that he worked waiting in the living room, nestled in an armchair, her head propped up in her hand, fighting sleep and waiting for the assurance that he would return home breathing. As the years wore on, and with every step higher in the Auror Office he took, his nights wore on longer. She was usually asleep when he got home now.
He shifted onto his side and his hand moved numbly across the pillows, bridging the void between them, and his fingers grazed he bare skin on the back of her neck. She did not move into the touch as she once would have, and she lay in silence as if had had made no contact at all, until his fingers trailed into her hair and brushed the silky tendrils from her cheek, and he shifted a little closer to her.
'Don't, Harry.'
'Sorry.'
'Do you know what time it is?'
'Yeah.'
He heard give a small sigh before she relented, turning over to face him. Her eyes travelled over his bruised face. She didn't quite look sympathetic, more disappointed, but she nevertheless raised a hand to touch his cheek.
'Does that hurt?'
'No, it's fine. The healers filled me to the brim with painkilling draughts.'
She didn't crack a smile, but continued to look at him with sharp, warning eyes. 'You know Albus used Neville's fireplace to contact me today?'
'Why did he do that?'
'Because he saw in the paper that you were in St. Mungo's.'
Harry let this settle over him before he rolled over onto his back, pressing his face into his hands. Ginny didn't need to say any more than that to make him feel awful.
'I'm sorry, Ginny.'
'It's not me you should be apologising to.'
'Did you tell him I was fine?'
'Of course. But you know he's going to worry.'
He took his hands away from his face to look back at Ginny. 'I'll write to him – tell him it wasn't a big deal.'
She considered him with her bright, brown eyes, almost frowning. 'Well, was it a big deal?'
'No. It was nothing. Gamp's house elf … She was just trying to do it to herself as punishment. She got the brunt of it – enough to kill her. Dennis and I are fine.'
Ginny's face looked briefly anguished. 'She – she died?'
Harry nodded.
Ginny made a small, regretful sound, shutting her eyes briefly. She drew in a sigh before she looked back at him. 'What about the break in at the school?'
He had known this line of questioning was coming and he had rehearsed his answer. 'It's nothing to worry about. They didn't break the defences and the men behind it are dead.'
It seemed Ginny had also rehearsed her rebuttal. 'So, you're not even going to look into it? Is the death of a blood supremacist more important than why some lunatics wanted to get into the school?'
He stopped himself sighing. 'Hogwarts is the safest place they could be, Ginny.'
Her dark eyes narrowed. 'Are you saying we're not safe here?'
'No, that's not what I'm saying.'
'What about Ron and Hermione? If Gamp is dead, and Hermione's his replacement …'
'It's not like that,' he assured her. 'Gamp had a lot of enemies.'
She raised herself to sit, brow-arching, lips pursed. 'So it's true? This is about blood equality?'
'No,' he told her, though after second's pause for reflection he added, 'It's too early to say.'
'You're hoping it's not,' she informed him, accusation in his voice. 'You don't want to admit that that's the way it looks.'
'Just because it looks a certain way doesn't mean it's the truth.'
'Don't give me your press-release voice,' she warned. 'I'm not stupid. I know what this means. If there's conflict between Purebloods and Muggle-borns then you and Hermione will be in the middle of it, which means the kids are going to get hounded …'
He pushed himself up, raising a steady hand to call for calm. 'Ginny, stop. Nobody's going to get anyone near the kids. I won't let them. You know that.'
She hesitated, and he knew she was mulling her doubts over in her head, before she resigned to nod. She dropped his gaze, looking smaller now than she had in her rising temper. His raised a hand to touch her cheek and she permitted herself to lean into his touch. He guided her back down onto their pillows, and they lay watching each other.
'How was your day?'
'Fine. I just had to edit a few articles.'
'Can I read them?'
'When they're in the Prophet you can.'
His face cracked into a smile, which she returned, and he moved to kiss her, and she returned it, but flinched away before it could be allowed to grow deeper.
'Harry, don't. I'm tired.'
He pulled away and, staring at her, gave a nod. 'You didn't have to wait up for me, you know?'
She gave a bitter laugh as she rolled away from him. 'I'm always waiting for you. It's nothing new.'
Song credit:She Only Loves Me When I'm There by Ball Park Music.
