Chapter three
Albus walked carefully, but quickly in pursuit of Scorpius. He kept to the shadowy crevices of the buildings (of which there were many). After making the first turn, Scorpius and his father were in Albus' sights.
Albus had never really had a chance to look closely at Scorpius' father. On the train platform Albus' family stayed far away from the Malfoys – there was an old rivalry there (of which Albus knew little, and the bits and pieces he had picked up over the years were mainly from snatches of overheard conversations, or from Rose's father when he'd had too much to drink).
Everyone knew that Draco Malfoy had been tried as a deatheater. Scorpius had told him once, in the dead of the night, when confessions fell more easily off the tongue, that his father bore the dark mark on his forearm.
"I've only seen in once" Scorpius had whispered, a slight shiver crawling up his spine and displacing the blanket they were sharing. Albus readjusted it so that it re-covered the blonde boy's shoulder, and Scorpius had continued on "it was an accident. My dad always wears long sleeves, even when it's boiling out. But once, the sleeve slipped up" Albus wriggled in closer so that Scorpius had to barely move his lips to speak but could still be heard. Albus could feel his hot breath on the tip of his nose as Scorpius got more comfortable with the story, and Albus could start to imagine he was there too.
"What's that?" Scorpius asked curiously, looking up from the Quidditch section of the Daily Prophet he'd been perusing. His father followed his gaze and flinched when he saw the tip of black ink peeking up from his shirtsleeve.
Scorpius's grandfather had just returned from Azkaban the fortnight previous, and it was obvious even to Scorpius, a ten-year-old boy, that his father had been losing sleep over it. The hollows under his father's eyes bloomed violet, and his hair had lost its neat precision – a strand had broken free from its gel and was drooping over an eye right now. His shirt was slightly crumpled around the waist, as if his father had maybe slept in it, and the sleeve had fallen down his wrist when he'd raised his arm above his head to replace a book in the study. He must have forgotten his cuff links this morning.
A second later and Draco's arm was lowered again, and the mysterious splotch of dark ink had disappeared. "It's nothing" his father had replied, in a voice that spoke of finality. Scorpius knew that voice well and knew it would be no use to question it – he had resigned himself back to the recent Quidditch updates when a soft voice spoke up from the armchair in the corner of the room.
"You have not told the boy?" the voice, weak and raspy, asked. Scorpius shifted uneasily in his chair. He had forgotten, in his curiosity, why he had been sitting in the study in the first place. Lucius Malfoy was still very weak, and he sat by the fire all day.
Scorpius remembered the first morning his grandfather had returned from Azkaban. Scorpius, nervous and unsure what to say, had mentioned that it was quite chilly outside, gesturing to the lightly falling snow. "Cold?" the old man had asked, the reflection of the fire dancing across his place face and waxen hair "you know nothing of cold."
Scorpius had not felt like talking much after that. And it seemed that every time his grandfather decided to speak, his father was also up in arms. This time had been no exception.
"You have not told the boy?" Lucius repeated, looking up from the roaring fire. "Scorpius, go help your mother in the kitchen" had been Draco's response, anger in his voice. Scorpius had left obediently, but even in the kitchen, on the other side of the house, he could hear the muffled sounds of raised voices.
"I didn't realize that it was the dark mark until later" Scorpius whispered, "until my dad started preparing me for school. I knew my father's history. He never lied to me about it. But I guess I didn't know what it meant, not really. Not until he started talking to me about protection charms. I bought a book on the Wizarding war when we went shopping for supplies. My father paid for it. I think he was glad, that he wouldn't have to explain it all. That's where I learned about the dark mark, and when I learned – that's when I learned how many people had died" Scorpius finished, a strain in his voice now.
Even the darkest hours of the night were not protection enough for that type of confession. Albus had known instinctually how hard those last words had been for Scorpius to say. He hadn't known what to reply – maybe there wasn't anything to say, anyways. The hug he'd given him had been enough.
Albus looked curiously at Draco Malfoy, the freedom of the shadows allowing him to stare rudely. He looked shockingly similar to Scorpius, albeit older and more tired. Try as he might, Albus could not imagine the thin man walking beside his friend, who pulled Scorpius out of the way of puddles and carried the heavy bags of books on his side with a slight stoop, as a terrifying deatheater. He looked too much like Scorpius for that.
Albus darted daringly across the street into another dark corner, now the closest he'd been to Scorpius and his father, who were both stopped by a store window. Scorpius was closely inspecting the contents of the window display.
Suddenly, there was the light tinkling of a bell, and a man stepped out of the shop Scorpius had been inspecting. He seemed to brighten at seeing Draco and greeted him jovially. Draco's face did not betray the same emotions. He nodded stoically at the other man, who looked to be about his age. The man rolled his eyes, grabbing Draco by the hand, forcing Draco to shake it. The unknown man gave an askance glance to Scorpius, and pulled Draco a few steps away, speaking into his ears in low tones. They were now out of ear shot from Albus and Scorpius, and Albus fought the urge to curse.
Draco was now facing away from Albus, so he couldn't read the expressions on his face, but the other man's furtive glances, low tones, and sporadic winking was anything to go by, the conversation had gone beyond small talk and friendly greetings.
"Scorpius" Draco instructed, after the conversation had been going on for several minutes. The blonde boy turned from where he had been gazing into the window display. Albus had noticed that his eyes actually been fixed on the reflection of the two older men for some time. Draco thrust a small bag of what may have been dragonskin into Scorpius' hands. The contents clinked softly together.
"Shop for whatever you want in the apothecary" he said. Try as he might, Albus could not read Draco's expression, and his tone of voice betrayed nothing. The words must have meant something to Scorpius however, because his eyes widened imperceptibly as he accepted the small purse of money. "I will return shortly. Do not leave the shop" he added, emphasizing the last sentence with a long look. Scorpius nodded.
The soft tinkling of the bell could be heard again as Scorpius obediently entered the store. Albus watched the mysterious man and Draco leave together, his eyes shrewd. The mysterious man was almost as tall as Draco, slender, with dark skin. His hair was short cropped, and he wore all black. The simple garb was elevated however, but glittering silver jewelry – rings on his fingers and thin chains around his neck, and even a small hoop on each ear. The man had a nervous tic. He kept scratching his left forearm.
Albus waited. Having pulled off multiple schemes at this point, he was familiar with how cautious all his accomplices were. James or Sam would have been back out the door, bell tinkling loudly with the force of the exit, within a minute of Draco's back disappearing down the alley. Ruth, Elle, and probably Isidre would have waited a cursory two minutes, feigning patience and discretion. It was Scorpius (and Rose, who had her own scruples around rules) who would wait the full five minutes any plan of theirs would have instructed.
Still, Albus was impatient (he placed himself at around 4 minutes waiting time). He had taken note of the direction the two figures had disappeared towards, but he did not know Knockturn alley well, and the longer he waited the less sure he was of a successful pursuit. Finally, there was a soft tinkling of a bell, as a small boy slipped quietly out the heavy oak door, his eyes hastily sweeping across the deserted cobblestone street.
"Psst!" Albus called over. Albus was glad he'd waited until his friend had shut the door, because he surely would have knocked the bell loudly with the way he jerked back in fright. He watched Scorpius's features relax, and then twist back into confusion upon seeing Albus emerging from the shadows. "No time to explain. Are we going to follow those two –" Albus jerked his chin in the direction they had headed, "or not?" Scorpius nodded resolutely, although he was a shade paler than he usually was.
The two boys stole as quickly as they could in the direction Draco and his unnamed friend had left in. Keeping to alleys and dark shadows, crouching under hideous gargoyles and behind gnarled, leafless trees, the two boys made fast progress.
Knockturn alley was deserted. "Is it, um, usually this quiet?" Albus whispered finally, after they had crossed three blocks without seeing a soul. Scorpius shook his head, but he was distracted and did not elaborate. He didn't seem to think there was a connection between the empty streets and the situation they were in right now. Albus privately disagreed.
The street ended with a building, painted entirely black, except for a blood red door. The name of the building was nowhere to be seen, but it was one of the few on the street that had lights on, and it was the only one where shadowy figures at its window betrayed that it was occupied.
Albus shrugged, and was about to try and approach the door, when Scorpius grabbed him by the color and shook his head vehemently. He pointed instead to a tiny alleyway that Albus had missed, tucked discreetly in the corner between the black building and the adjoining shop.
Albus shivered when he stepped into the alleyway. It wasn't colder per se, but it was very, very dark. He could barely make out the whites of Scorpius's eyes, and if it wasn't for the fact that his friend was very pale, he wasn't sure he would have been able to follow him at all.
The two boys cautiously approached the first window. They proceeded to silently argue about who should peep, ending with Albus rolling his eyes and showing Scorpius a rude gesture, before slowly raising his eye until it was level with the window.
The light in inside the building was very yellow, as it was illuminated only by candles. Albus quickly identified that it was a pub – the interior was just as black as the exterior, with the velvet on the barstools and chair seats the same blood red as the door. All the metal work, from the handles on the doors, to the barware, were a rich gold. Despite its colour scheme, which hinted at opulence and old money, the bar was mostly deserted, and a little cobwebby. There was a lone bartender, who was busy at work, a hunched bundle of rags sitting at the corner of the bar that Albus would not confidently identify as a human shape, and three goblins at a far table, speaking in their own language (who Albus noted must have been the figures he had spotted through the front window).
Albus lowered his head and shook his head to Scorpius, pointing that they should go further down the alley. Despite how empty the bar had been, the bartender had been preparing a tray filled with glasses. Albus, having grown up with a celebrity in the wizarding world, was familiar with the concept of private rooms. And he knew they were often in the back of the building.
The next window glowed with the same soft candlelight, but only around the edges. The glass had been blackened by a thick curtain, and it was impossible to see through it. Well, not completely impossible. While the window was sealed, there was a tiny hole bored into the bottommost right corner. Albus did not doubt that it had been made deliberately, probably for a similar type of espionage as he was about to attempt – this bar looked like it would host some questionable gatherings.
Albus carefully unravelled the extendable eye that he kept in his pocket – the night before he'd gone to Hogwarts for the first time, James had shoved two gifts into his hands. The first was a long fleshy string, the extendable ear. The second was the much more expensive extendable eye, which Albus didn't recognise. James informed him that it was sold in the mysterious back room of the joke shop, a place they had both been forbidden from entering. "Keep these in your pocket from now on, wherever you're going. You never know when they're going to come in handy…"
Albus had rolled his eyes and ignored his brother's advice. He had been determined to be different than his brother while at school, which meant no pranks and no rule breaks. Of course, that had changed quickly when he had actually attended school, but by then the two tools had been tucked away in his sock drawer and forgotten. He had only come across them again this summer and, having reconsidered his brother's advice, now kept them on his persons at all times.
Scorpius watched quizzically as Albus unrolled the extendable eye. He clearly had never been to the back room of the joke shop. Albus ignored the fact that neither had he, and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at Scorpius. Albus then carefully, biting his tongue between his teeth, fed the thread of the eye through the small gap in the glass.
At first, he saw only black, and he cursed quietly, thinking that the eye had somehow been damaged. The he remembered the curtain. Carefully, Albus wiggled the eye, until the very tip of it peeked underneath the black fabric, resting on the interior windowsill.
The room was small, but not as darkly painted as the main pub, so that it looked roomier than it was. It was lit entirely by a large candelabra, which hung by thick gold chains and was dripping with black wax candles. The dark stone walls were adorned with red tapestries that depicted images Albus cared not to dwell on. The center of the room was filled with a large circular table, and the chairs around it were occupied by a number of men that Albus had never seen before. He did recognize one, however. Directly across from the window, Draco Malfoy sat, sprawled comfortably on the throne-like chair. He had a haughty look on his face that Albus had never seen.
Albus stepped back from the eye, gesturing Scorpius to take a look. The other boy did so hesitantly, and Albus anxiously watched his face for his reaction. He watched as Scorpius grew even paler, his lips bringing themselves together in a thin, angry line. There was no time to react however, because the alleyway was suddenly flooded with light when a door a few feet farther in, that neither boy had noticed, was flung open.
The two boys shot each other terrified glances. They could hear the gruff sounds of male voices, and in a moment, whoever had opened the door would be out in the alley. There was nowhere to hide. Albus had just decided to grab Scorpius' and make a desperate run for it, when he felt a sweaty hand clamp over his mouth from behind him. The hand's partner appeared around Scorpius' mouth. Albus tried to thrash, but it was no use. He was pinned against the chest of a much larger person, Scorpius's shoulder digging into his. They had been caught.