A Higher Law - Part I-C
PART I-A
PART I-B
~*~
When Draco opened the door of his hotel room to a knock at seven in the morning, he was expecting to find a bellhop with breakfast.
Instead of finding a platter of pancakes and bacon, his guilty pleasure, he opened the door to a bevy of English and American Aurors.
“Draco Malfoy, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…” An American Auror proceeded to rattle off a list of rights as another Auror immediately spelled him into bindings.
Draco sighed and listened to his rights quietly. When the Auror trailed off, he piped up. “What exactly am I being charged with?”
This time an English Auror spoke. “You have been charged as an accessory to kidnapping,” he said smugly.
“Kidnapping who?”
The Smarty-Pants English Auror snarled at him. “Albus Potter, of course.”
Years as a Muggle-Wizard Liaison Lawyer had not prepared him for that sentence. “What are you on about?”
Smarty-Pants smirked at him. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of the investigation with you at this time. I’m just here to escort you back to English soil.” The smirk grew. “I think you’ll be pleased to know that Harry Potter himself will be handling your questioning.”
Draco felt like slamming his head into the nearest available surface. “Damn.”
The American Auror who bound him turned to Smarty-Pants. “We’ll handle evidence collection with the help of your team members.”
Smarty-Pants nodded. “All right. I’ll transport him to England’s Ministry of Magic then.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed the edge of it into Draco’s hand. “Portus.”
The next thing he knew, Draco was whirling away by an International Portkey.
When he arrived, he found himself in a maximum security holding cell deep within the Ministry. Smarty-Pants quickly moved away from Draco and closed the door of the cell before cancelling the binding spell.
Draco took a deep breath and moved over to the cot in the cell. Sinking down onto it he tried to regain his composure after the quick Portkey. His head was swimming.
“Where’s my son?” Potter stood outside of the cell, his face as livid as it had been during one of their fights at Hogwarts.
Draco frowned. “I don’t know.”
Potter slammed his fist into the bars of the cell, making them shudder loudly. “Malfoy. Where. Is. My. Son?”
Draco sneered at him. “Potter! I. Don’t. Know!”
Potter whipped out his wand then. “Do not mess with me. Where did you have my son kidnapped to?”
Draco wanted to stand and move to the bars to confront Potter, but his head was still incredibly dizzy. Instead he glared right at Potter. “I didn’t kidnap him. I don’t know how you came up with this idea, but I haven’t even been in the country for a week.” He snapped into lawyer mode. “I need to know what probable cause you have that allowed you to arrest me so suddenly.” Hopefully Potter would not have enough evidence to hold him for long.
“The kidnapper came forward with your name as the man who paid him.”
Well, damn. That was very obvious evidence.
“You’re certain he didn’t lie?”
Potter’s face flushed. “Of course! We immediately had him sign the waiver and complete the Veritaserum test. He also signed away his rights to the memories of the crime, so we have experts going over the memories in Pensieves right now.”
Draco placed his elbows on his knees and rested his face in his hands. “I’ll gladly take a Veritaserum test and give you my memories as well.” His head was positively foggy. “Also, can I get some food? Your Aurors interrupted my breakfast.”
Potter looked like he was going to burst. “My son has been missing for over 60 hours, and you want food?”
“My blood sugar is low. You are required to keep all prisoners healthy, especially those with medical needs like diabetes, under the Prisoner’s Rights Act established in 2003 and amended in 2015.”
Potter groaned, and Draco wanted to laugh at the sound. “This is why I hate arresting lawyers.” He slammed his wand into an Intercom Box and barked at the person who answered to have some food delivered. “All right, your food is on the way. Now, you said you would undergo Veritaserum and give up your memory-rights, correct?”
“I’ll give verbal agreement.” He waited a moment while Potter activated a recording spell. “I, Draco Malfoy, hereby agree to allow questioning related to the charges I am under while under the influence of Veritaserum. I understand that I will be forced to tell the truth. I understand that anything I say can be used for or against me. I understand that I risk injury by allowing this, and agree to the questioning on the basis that the Ministry of Magic will provide Medi-Wizards to monitor my wellbeing at all times. I, Draco Malfoy, hereby allow the Ministry of Magic access to my memories which pertain to the time during which this crime is alleged to have been committed. I will provide the memories to be Pensieved when requested by the Ministry. I understand that I will lose the ability to access the memories until a complete and accurate copy has been created by the Ministry.” He gave up trying to sit up in the bed and flopped down onto his back. Laying there, he took a deep breath before asking, “Is that good enough?”
Potter ended the recording spell and nodded. “Thank you.”
Draco sighed deeply. “It’s all right. I’ve a boy too. I understand. Gotta get this done quick. I’ve an important meeting in New York City today.”
Potter nodded. “All right. Thank you for cooperating.” Potter smiled a little sadly. “I’m hoping you didn’t do it. Scorpius was crushed when your name came up on the suspects list.”
Draco waved him away. “Whatever, Potter. I didn’t do it. Now, go fetch me some food so I have the energy to answer your questions.”
Snorting loudly, Potter left the room outside of the cell, leaving Draco alone. Draco groaned and covered his eyes with an arm. Jeeze. Get involved with a crazy megalomaniac’s plan for world domination when you are sixteen and you automatically end up on every suspect list for the next thirty years.
Draco was surprised at how quickly Potter had cooled off though. Maybe the man had finally figured out how to use his brain properly.
The door to the room outside of his cell slammed open. “Oi! Princess Malfoy, your food’s here!”
“Nice to see you too, Weasel.”
Draco pulled his arm away from his eyes and watched Weasley blush dark red. “Shut up! Come get your food. You better eat quick; the Veritaserum questioning has just been okayed. We’ll be administering the potion in a little over fifteen minutes.”
Draco blinked rapidly. Damn. When the “Man Who Lived” wanted something done, it got done fast. It usually took hours, if not days, to get Veritaserum questioning permits. He stood and walked over to the door. Looking at the plate, he cringed. “Who decided that dry toast and an apple was suitable fare?”
Weasley shrugged. “I dunno.” He turned and left without another word.
Did they not teach manners in Gryffindor Tower? Draco poked at his toast for a moment before picking it up and biting it. Ugh, it was stale as well. Honestly, this was simply not right. Accusing an innocent man and then torturing him with horrid food had to break some law. Draco would be looking into this as soon as he was released.
Draco found himself wondering then exactly why he was locked up. Someone had come forward with the information that he had Albus Potter kidnapped. That bit made sense, but why had they chosen to kidnap Albus in the first place? Draco hadn’t spent much time around the boy, but Scorpius was close to him and seemed to think he was all right. He wanted to know why, know more, so that he could solve the case. As it was, he had no idea what the motive would be or why the kidnapper had chosen this time to attack Albus.
As he munched on his dry toast, Draco considered what he knew about Albus. He was a seventh year, like Scorpius. He was reportedly popular in school, regardless of his “Slytherin Pride” obsession. That was something that could have caused Albus to be kidnapped. No proper Slytherin went about fighting for their rights in public arenas like that. It just wasn’t done. The Slytherin Pride movement had long ago faded away though. There was no reason for someone to kidnap Albus over that. So why?
The door outside of his cell slammed open, and a blur of light hair and dark robes launched itself at the cell bars. “Father, please tell me you didn’t do it! There’s no way that you kidnapped Al! Is there?”
“Nice to see you too, Scorpius. It is indeed a lovely day outside.”
Scorpius rolled his eyes at him. “It’s pouring buckets. Did you do it?”
Draco fought the temptation to roll his eyes back. “I haven’t been allowed outside of this cell since I touched English soil. Forgive me if I don’t know the weather.”
“Did you do it?” asked Scorpius.
“No! Of course not! Why on earth would I have kidnapped your friend?”
“Well, you are always talking about how being gay is unnatural...”
Draco quirked an eyebrow at his son. “And that applies to the kidnapping how?”
Scorpius sighed deeply then. “I knew you didn’t do it!”
“I know, you know, we all know I didn’t do it. What I don’t know is what homosexuality has to do with me being locked up in a cell.” Draco crossed his arms, surreptitiously brushing toast crumbs off his robes before Scorpius saw them.
“Al came out to the wizarding world. The Aurors think he was kidnapped because of that.”
Draco nodded slowly. Yes, that probably would have been enough to infuriate some person enough to kidnap him. But who?
“Why did Potter decide to come out? Surely he realized that he would be putting himself at risk,” Draco pondered out loud, more to air out his thoughts than to actually speak.
Scorpius replied anyway. “Um... he was... fighting for rights. So he could... um, marry his boyfriend one day.”
Draco had been a lawyer for almost twenty years. He knew what stumbling over words meant. Scorpius had just told him much more than what his words had said. Draco looked at his son hard. The boy was sweating a little, and his breathing was rather harsh. When he nervously reached up to brush the hair out of his eyes, his hand was trembling.
This was way too much information to process in one day if Draco’s suspicions were true.
Careful not to stumble over his own words, Draco asked, “Who is his boyfriend?”
And there! A blush was spreading across Scorpius’s cheeks. Draco wanted to groan and moan and shriek at the unfairness of it all. He had begun to think that perhaps Scorpius was a bit... bent, but the fact that he and Potter’s kid were planning marriage was throwing Draco for a loop. A very, very large loop.
Taking a deep breath, Draco took a moment to compose a reply. “Was I to be invited to your wedding then?”
Scorpius looked astonished. “But, I didn’t... how did you know?”
Draco pushed his food to the side and stood to approach his son. Scorpius flinched a little as he grew closer. Pushing an arm between the bars of his cell, he ruffled his son’s hair. “I know you too well. Besides, you have never mentioned a girlfriend. I was getting suspicious.”
Scorpius looked at him, and Draco wondered where his little boy had gone. They were the same height now. He pulled his hand away from his son’s hair, feeling a little lost, as if he was touching a stranger. Then Scorpius started to sob.
“Al’s gone! I don’t know what to do. And they’ve got you under suspicion, and they went and questioned Mum and Grandfather and Grandmother. They don’t trust us, and Al’s gone...”
Draco fought a smile as Scorpius cried so hard his shoulders shook. His little boy still had some growing to do after all.
“Scorpius, it will be okay. I promise.”
Scorpius wailed, “But how do you know?”
“Albus is the son of ‘The Chosen One,’ and if I know Potter, he won’t leave any stone unturned until he finds his son. I’ll be out of here soon, and then everything will be all right.” Draco watched as his son slowly calmed at his words. “Now, pull yourself together. You are a Malfoy; where is your dignity?”
Scorpius laughed lightly.
Draco sighed overdramatically then. “Still, of all the boys in Hogwarts, why did you have to pick a Potter? There’s Jimmy Nott or Toby Morley or-“
Scorpius smiled sadly. “Al’s my best friend.”
Draco continued on light-heartedly. “That’s hardly a good reason. Greg and Vince were my best friends, and I didn’t marry them.”
Grimacing, Scorpius groaned. “Honestly, Dad, I did not need the mental image of you in a threesome.”
Draco blanched. “That is not what I meant!”
Scorpius chuckled, and Draco could see he was forgetting about the predicament slightly. “Sure. Just keep your sexual fantasies to yourself, please.”
Oh, to be seventeen again, when the only thing you thought about was sex. Well, most seventeen year olds thought about sex. Draco had been busy worrying over Dark Lords, Death Eaters, and Potter. Alright, he had been trying to figure out how to get Pansy into his bed too, but still! Draco was just glad that his son had been able to live a normal life as a normal kid.
He joked around with Scorpius for a few more minutes when the door opened and Potter entered with three Aurors Draco did not recognise and the Weasel.
Scorpius spun around to face him. “Have you found Al yet?”
Weasley shook his head. “Not yet, sorry.” Scorpius’s shoulders drooped.
One of the other Aurors stepped forward, a blonde woman. “Draco Malfoy, we are ready to begin questioning you under Veritaserum now.” Draco nodded, and she continued. “Please step away from the door of your cell.”
Draco moved back to his bed, and only started slightly when a male Auror spelled bindings around him. The cell door clicked open then, and the female Auror stepped inside. She withdrew a tiny vial from her robes and, once Draco had opened his mouth, poured the three drops that were inside of it onto his tongue. The sensation of falling under a compulsion repelled Draco immediately. Veritaserum’s effects were far too much like Imperius for Draco’s comfort.
“State your full name please,” the blonde asked. She was obviously going to be the main questioner.
“Draco Lucius Malfoy.”
“Where were you this past Wednesday evening?”
“New York City.” He hid a smirk as the woman rolled her eyes.
“Why were you in New York City and how long were you there?”
Draco’s mouth was spitting out the words before he could even think. “I was at a business conference for Muggle-Wizard Liaison Lawyers. I arrived in New York the Tuesday before that at 7:23 AM, and I was forcibly removed from New York at 7:03 AM this morning.”
“Did you leave the city at any time before that?”
“I left the city once to visit a mall in New Jersey.”
“Why?”
Draco blushed lightly. “I was picking up a present for my wife.”
The questioner rolled her eyes. “Very well. When was the last time you spoke with Terrence Higgs?”
“June 13, 2017, when he took me out for dinner as a thank you for saving his butt in court.”
“Have you had any type of contact with him since then?”
“No.”
The woman frowned. “Have you contacted him through someone else since then?”
“No.”
“Did you pay someone to kidnap Albus Potter or to arrange the kidnapping?”
“No.”
The frown grew. “Did you participate in the kidnapping of Albus Severus Potter in any way?”
“No.”
Scorpius smiled brightly. “See! I knew he didn’t do it!”
Weasley put a hand on Scorpius’s shoulder and shook his head, and Scorpius subsided.
“Tell us everything you know about the kidnapping.”
“Albus Severus Potter was kidnapped.”
“You don’t know anything else?” The woman looked a little lost.
“That is the only fact I know.” Draco didn’t offer up the information his son had shared with him. None of that was a fact, as far as Draco was concerned. He only had his son’s word to go on, and that could easily by untrue.
The questioner sighed and turned to Potter. “I have no more questions.”
Potter nodded “All right. Please administer the counter-potion then, and we’ll begin the memory extraction.”
Scorpius jolted. “Why do you need his memories? He already said he didn’t do it!”
Weasley squeezed his shoulder gently. “If his memories have been changed, he can lie and say that he didn’t do it, even under Veritaserum. We have to examine the memories for tampering before he can be cleared.”
Scorpius nodded minutely and didn’t say anything. The questioner administered the counter-potion and stepped out of the cell, allowing the two unknown male Aurors to enter. One held a large vial in his hand, which he unsealed.
“We will be removing the memories from two days before the kidnapping until your arrival in this cell,” one of the men muttered. He pushed his wand up to Draco’s temple, and Draco focused on the memories in question. As they slowly faded out of his consciousness, the wand moved away from his head towards the vial. The silvery memories filled the clear glass almost to the top. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Draco nodded, a little dizzy from the after-effects of Veritaserum and the sudden feeling he had lost something, namely his memories. The men left the cell, shutting the door behind him, and Draco was released from his bonds.
Potter nodded at him, and then led the Aurors Draco did not know out. Weasley stayed behind for a moment. “We’ll be done with this soon. You can stay here till then, Scorpius.” Scorpius nodded and then he left too.
The solid surface of the bed was steadying when Draco sunk down to sit on it. He cleared his throat, and shook his head to clear away the vertigo he was experiencing. “Well, there’s nothing to do but wait.”
~*~
Scorpius laughed at his father’s joke, and then he felt guilty. Al could be dead somewhere, and Scorpius was laughing. He was an awful boyfriend. He didn’t even deserve to be called that.
“What is it?” his father asked quietly.
Scorpius shook his head, and his father simply nodded in reply. Scorpius was grateful; he didn’t feel like talking about Al.
He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, and he pulled them up to his chest so he could prop his chin up on his knees. What was Scorpius doing? He should be out there looking for Al.
What could he do though? He hadn’t even been able to save Al from being kidnapped in the first place.
Suddenly the room felt too confining, as if Scorpius was the one locked up, instead of his father. He stood and stretched. Then he turned to his father. “I need to go see if I can help.”
His father glared at him. “Don’t go gallivanting off on your own. I don’t want them dragging you home in pieces.”
Scorpius gave him a wan smile. “I won’t, promise.”
“All right then. Get out of here.”
“I’ll see you soon, Dad. They’ll let you out.” His father waved him off, and Scorpius left. He headed for the Auror offices, anxious to know what was going on. When he arrived, the place was crazy.
He saw Mr. Weasley across the main room, and went to talk to him. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Mr. Weasley pointed at one section of the room, “They are working on a murder case from yesterday, a young woman found dead in Knockturn,” then to another section, “They’ve just started investigating a call that came in about Muggle’s being attacked in downtown London,” and then to another section, “And they’ve got a lead on an older rape case.” Then he gestured to the few people around him. “And we are working on Al.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if everyone was working on Al’s case?” Scorpius asked. “We have to find him soon.”
Mr. Weasley shook his head. “Every case is important. Harry can’t show favouritism by assigning all of the Aurors to his son’s case. He does have some of the best working on it though, and all leads are being followed immediately. So don’t worry, we have it more than covered.”
Scorpius shrugged. “If you say so.” He looked over the papers on the table in front of them. “What’s all this?”
“Various things we know about the case. I like to write it all out on papers so I can rearrange it and try to connect clues.”
Scorpius noticed one blue slip of paper was stacked on top of a pink slip. The blue slip read “Malfoy innocent according to his Veritaserum. Memories passed tests.” He pushed the slip to the side, and read the one underneath. “Malfoy guilty according to Higg’s Veritaserum test. Memories passed test.”
“What do these two mean?” he asked Mr. Weasley.
The man looked where he was pointing. “Ah. Unfortunately, that’s the biggest problem we are having with the case. Higg’s definitely met Malfoy and was hired by him. He said so under Veritaserum, and his memories say the same thing. Yet, your dad says he didn’t do it, and his memories agreed. None of the memories are false, so we are at a loss.”
How odd. Scorpius knew his dad didn’t do it, so why did it look like he did? “Maybe Higg’s is confused. He could have just met someone who looked similar to my dad.”
“No, he definitely met Malfoy. I saw the memories myself. It looked exactly like him.” Mr. Weasley’s face lit up suddenly. “That’s it!”
“What?” Scorpius asked as Mr. Weasley began shuffling around papers on the table.
“It looked like Malfoy, but we can’t prove from the memories that it was him, because his memories don’t match. Which means that the one who looked like Malfoy wasn’t actually Malfoy.”
Scorpius was completely lost. “What?”
“It was a glamour or Polyjuice! Of course!” He shuffled through the papers some more. “Who could it have been? The Notts have alibis and all the Malfoys have willingly undergone Veritaserum questioning now, so Goyle is the only one we haven’t talked to...” He turned to Scorpius, his eyes slightly wild. “Does your father have contact with Gregory Goyle?”
“Yeah, but what does-“
Mr. Weasley cut him off with a cry of delight. “It must be him then. He’s Polyjuiced himself into Malfoy. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” The light in his eyes dimmed. “But he doesn’t have a motive.”
Scorpius thought about the dark and hulking man who periodically visited his father. Scorpius had never been overly comfortable around him, especially after he became friends with Al, because he was always ranting about Harry Potter. “Um, if it helps... I think he hates Mr. Potter.” Scorpius could easily bring to mind the memories of his shouts about how Mr. Potter had killed Vincent Crabbe. His father always tried to tell Mr. Goyle that Crabbe had killed himself in the end, but Scorpius could not remember a time when Mr. Goyle had agreed with him.
“And he hates gays too.” Scorpius had heard him badmouthing homosexuals many times. It was one of the reasons he had been afraid to come out. He had thought that his father felt the same way. Finding out that his father was all right with it had been the only good thing about this ordeal.
Mr. Weasley nodded vigorously. “Of course! Al comes out and Goyle figures he can revenge himself on Harry by attacking his son. That has to be it...” He reached out and tapped the Intercom Box that was fixed to the wall. “Harry! I’ve figured it out!” He related his thoughts to Mr. Potter.
Mr. Potter’s voice came through the box clearly. “I think you’re right. I’ll get someone to start a check on his Gringott’s account and on his properties list. Hopefully we’ll figure out where he’s at.”
Mr. Weasley agreed and shut off the Box. He turned to Scorpius with a grin. “I think this is really it. Al will be back here safe and sound soon.”
Scorpius nodded, still feeling a little lost, and hoped that Mr. Weasley was right.
~*~
Al had been shuddering under the Cruciatus curse yet again when the door flew open, flooding the room with light and Aurors.
“Expelliarmus!” someone shouted, and Goyle’s wand flew out of his hand.
“Incarcerous,” called out another voice.
Al watched as Goyle was bound up in seconds. “You can’t do this!” Goyle screamed. “The law says I can hurt him! You can’t take me!”
Goyle was still screaming as the Portkeyed him out of the room. Al didn’t recognise the Aurors who untied him from the table, or at least he couldn’t tell who they were from the blurry shapes that his eyes seemed to see. He tried to ask them where his dad was. All that came out of his abused throat was a groan. Al swallowed, trying to talk, but his throat was too raw. He hadn’t had a proper drink of water in days, and the screams had ripped his throat up.
A large male Auror scooped him up gently, and a woman patted him on the head gently. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We are here to take you to St. Mungo’s. I’m sure your dad and mum will meet us there.”
Al tried to nod, but the flexing of his muscles set off a chain reaction, and before he knew it, his whole body was shaking. He wanted to stop, but tensing his muscles only seemed to make it worse. The Auror holding him hugged him closer, and suddenly they were Apparating away. He wasn’t sure when they arrived at St. Mungo’s because he passed out.
He woke to noisy sobs. Al opened his eyes and blinked to try to clear them. It was too bright and his eyes hurt. They didn’t want to focus either. Everything was too blurry. Al tried to move his head and he passed out again.
The next time he woke up, he couldn’t open his eyes. There was something on them that kept them from moving. He tried to reach up and feel for what it was, but the muscles in his arm refused to cooperate. In fact, he couldn’t make any of the muscles in his body move. His chest was moving, and he could feel his heart beating, so he couldn’t be dead. He continued to try to move some part of his body: a finger, a toe, his nose. The effort fatigued him, and again he fell unconscious.
Voices flooded his brain even when it felt like he was asleep. He heard his mother crying, and his father gruffly comforting her. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron brought his siblings and cousins to visit one day, and he heard all of their voices, overlapping in his head. Someone quiet visited alone. Albus could hear them moving around the room, looming over him for a minute before backing away. A quietly whispered goodbye identified the person as Scorpius. The healers and medi-wizards were in and out of the room all of the time, their voices sharp and normal against the sobs and whispers.
The first time Al really woke up, his mother was in the room crying again. She was sitting next to the bed, and her head was laid next to Al’s arm. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her warmth and hear her sobs. He reached out to touch her head, bumping into her nose before he was able to bury his hand in her hair.
She gasped. “Al?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but only a croak came out. He cleared his throat and broke into a hacking fit.
“Thank Merlin, you’re awake!” She stood then, the air whooshing around her as she moved. A bell went off, and his mother moved away from the bed. She was back in a few seconds, pushing a straw into Al’s mouth. He took a small sip and choked on the water, causing yet more coughing.
“Oh, dear.” A healer entered the room, her voice one of the ones Al had heard as he slept. “That’s some awful coughing. Let me try... this.” A glass or a vial of some sort was pressed against Al’s lower lip, and his head was tilted back. He reflexively swallowed the liquid that poured into his mouth and felt immediate relief as the pain that seared the back of his throat disappeared. His coughs continued for only a few more moments.
“Mum,” he finally managed to croak out.
“I’m here.” She reached out to brush aside some of his hair. Al could feel her hand caressing his cheek, and the hair tickled his ear as she tucked it back.
“Where?”
Her hand withdrew from his face and grasped his hand. “You’re in St. Mungo’s. You’ve been here for a week now.”
He was frustrated by the fact that he couldn’t see her, and he reached up to pull away the thing covering his eyes. His mom caught his other hand.
“Don’t do that sweetie.”
“I can’t see,” Al whined.
His mom squeezed his hands. “I know, and I’m sorry. The bandages are to help your eyes heal though, so you can’t take them off.”
Goyle had said they couldn’t be healed. “Heal?” he asked her, hoping she could understand. He didn’t think he could explain everything yet.
“The healers found out that you were blinded by a potion, and they think they can give you back some of your vision. I’m afraid you won’t get all of it back though.”
Al was just glad they would be able to give him back some of his sight. He had been afraid that he would be blind. “Scar? Head?”
His mother’s hand shook slightly. “That’s permanent,” she murmured.
If Al had been able to move properly, he would have shrugged. As it was, he was already feeling exhausted. The coughing fit had taken a lot of energy. “S’okay...” he mumbled as he fell back asleep.
He felt much better the next time he woke up. Without even thinking about it, he reached up to scratch his forehead. As his fingers touch it, he realized it was the scar was itchy. The wound had healed, but the scar tissue prickled as he touched it. He ran one fingertip over it, slowly tracing the design, and he realized it did feel exactly like his father’s scar. Al dropped his hand.
His eyes were still covered in a bandage, so Al tried to figure out what was happening through sounds. He could hear muffled voices, and there was a thump every few seconds that sounded like a door. The voices were getting closer to his door with every thump. Finally his door opened, and the voices came through clearly.
“You check his vital signs, and I’ll administer the medications,” a woman said. She was on his left side, and he felt her brush up against the bed. The other person moved to the other side of the bed, and Al had the feeling that a spell was being cast. A moment later his body prickled from his toes through his legs and his torso and then up to his head and down to his fingers.
“Vital signs look fine, but his heart rate is elevated.” It sounded like a man.
Al spoke up then. “I’m awake.”
One of them shrieked, and it didn’t sound like the woman, to Al’s amusement.
“Oh, good,” the woman said and touched his arm. “We were getting worried about you, young man. How do you feel?”
Al rubbed his throat. “Sore.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll fix that...” For a moment, there was the sound of tinkling glass before a vial was pressed to his mouth, and Al swallowed obediently.
The potion inside of it coated his throat, cooling it. Al took a deep breath, grateful that it didn’t hurt. “That’s better.” He struggled to sit up then, feeling slightly vulnerable lying down.
“Here, let me help.” The man’s voice came from the foot of the bed, and Al started. He hadn’t realised the man had moved. Then the bed began to shift under Al, and he cried out. “I’m sorry, I should have explained. I’m adjusting the bed so you can sit up.”
Al accepted the knowledge quietly, feeling silly for having been spooked by something so small. Part of the bed slowly rose, pushing Al along with it, until Al was sitting up somewhat.
“What time is it?” Al asked.
The woman answered, “It’s almost eight in the morning. Visiting hours are about to start, and I’m sure you’ll have someone here to see you soon.”
Al immediately wished that his mother was with him. He remembered that she had been there when he woke up last time. Being unable to see was making him feel lost and alone, even with two people in the room.
“I’m going to see how well your wounds are healing now, okay?” The man was back at Al’s side then.
Al nodded in agreement, and waited for the prickling feeling to return. Instead, he felt a wand poke his chest, in the same way Goyle’s wand had every time he cast Sectumsepra. Al fell into the memories without meaning to, feeling the wand poking against his side, hearing the whispered spell, and then screaming soundlessly as the pain ripped through him. He shrieked aloud, jolting away from the wand, and bumping into the side of his bed. Someone touched him, probably the woman, and Al cried out, pulling away from the hand.
“No, please, stop. Leave me alone!”
He knew he wasn’t in the dark room with Goyle. He couldn’t help feeling like he was still trapped in the room though. It was dark, he couldn’t see through the bandages, and the wand had prodded him. His whole body tensed up, waiting for pain that never came.
The man was speaking, but Al couldn’t tell what he was saying. The woman’s voice drifted through his head, but he didn’t understand. Al wasn’t sure of anything anymore. His body was beginning to ache from being tensed up, and the muscles were vibrating softly. There was movement in the room. He felt his muscles begin to shudder, and then he was shaking all over. A hand grabbed his throat. Al screamed and gagged as something was poured down his throat. The hand moved away, but Al continued to scream until he passed out.
He came to in a room full of people. He could tell by the voices. There was the anxious rumble of his father, the worried high pitch of his mother, and the normal, calming voices of the healers. Al cried out for his mother when he recognised her, and she was at his side in an instant. His father was right behind her. Al could sense them, but neither of them touched him.
“Mum, what’s going on?”
“You had a break down and we don’t know why. Can you tell us what happened?”
The feeling of the wand prodding his side flooded Al’s mind. “It was the wand. It poked me, and I wasn’t expecting it.” He paused, took a deep breath and continued. “Goyle did that whenever he cast a spell, poked me with the wand, I mean.”
His mum gasped, and his dad cursed loudly.
“I... Mum, Dad... can I hold a hand?” Al felt like a baby for asking, but without the able to see or feel them, it felt like they were so far away.
“Oh, Al!” His mother’s hands clasped one of his, and his father took hold of the other hand.
“We didn’t want to touch you. The healers told us you got upset when the medi-wizards touched you.”
Al shook his head. “No, it was the wand.”
His mother ran her hand over his cheek, and Al leaned into her touch. “We won’t let them do it again. Poor baby...”
Al frowned in her direction. “I’m not a baby!”
His father actually had the audacity to laugh at him.
“What? I’m not!”
Then both of his parents were crying, and Al didn’t know why. He waited until they calmed down, and asked them what was going to happen to him next.
“The healers told us that you’ll probably be here for another two weeks while they heal your eyes. The rest of your wounds are almost gone, and they’ve completed the post-Cruciatus potion treatment already. The Headmistress has promised to help you catch up on your class work, and Scorpius is keeping tabs of the homework and notes in all of your classes.” His father spoke quietly, but firmly, and Al felt like things were almost normal.
“And will I be... okay?”
His dad squeezed his hand. “You have some bad scarring on your torso, back and thighs. They were able to heal most of the scarring on your arms, lower legs and face, aside from the scar on your forehead.”
Al nodded. He had known the lightning bolt would be permanent.
“Most of the muscle scarring from the Cruciatus has also been healed. You’ll probably always suffer from random muscle tremors though, especially if you try to do any exercising. I’m afraid Quidditch is going to be impossible.”
Al’s heart sank a little. He had always adored Quidditch, even though he hadn’t been good enough to play on the House team.
“Your eyes will... well, we aren’t sure how your eyes will heal. The potion was meant to blind you by destroying the tissues of your cornea, but Goyle said he tampered with it to try to dilute it. The healers think that because of this, not all of the tissue was destroyed, so now they are trying to re-grow it from what’s left. You might never get all of your sight back, but the healers say you’ll be able to see light and dark, shapes and perhaps colours too.” His dad’s voice dropped off when Al didn’t reply.
Oh. Well, Al had been hoping for more than that. When his mother told him they were healing his eyes, he thought it meant he would simply have bad vision like his dad. Only being able to see light and dark was almost as bad as being completely blind.
His mother squeezed his hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry though, love. We’ll help you through this. You can do it.”
Al tried to smile. “Yeah, I can do it.”
He didn’t really think he could though. When the healers came in and informed him of all of the details of his injuries, Al thought he was going to be sick. He didn’t know how to feel besides slightly nauseous. He wasn’t sure whether he was sad or happy that his injuries were as insignificant as they were. They still existed, so how could he be happy? Yet, he still had his life and was mostly unharmed, so how could he be sad?
His parents stayed with him until he fell asleep. He woke up later with a jolt, his heart racing suddenly and his ears attuned to any movements.
The sound of a door shutting echoed in the room, and Al decided that the door opening must have startled him awake.
Footsteps crossed the room slowly, and Al had the image of Goyle stalking around the table invade his head. Stifling a scream, Al reminded himself that he was safe in St. Mungo’s. He snapped his head towards the footsteps and demanded, “Who’s there?”
The footsteps stilled. “It’s me,” a voice said, and Al started to smile. “Um, Scorpius, that is.”
Al’s smile stretched into a wide grin. “I’m blind, not deaf. I think I can recognise my own boyfriend’s voice.”
The footsteps raced towards him suddenly, and the next thing he knew, Al had a sobbing Scorpius draped over his lap.
“Merlin, Al, I thought you might be dead. I couldn’t do anything; I couldn’t help anyone, and you might have been dead somewhere.” Al stroked Scorpius’s hair quietly. In almost seven years of knowing him, Al had never seen Scorpius cry, no matter how hard he crashed playing Quidditch or how many blokes bullied him for being a “Death Eater’s kid.” Al was at a loss for words.
“I tried to help, and I told them everything, even about how we snuck out. The Headmistress gave me a month of detentions, and Mr. Weasley said they would find you, and then they blamed my dad. It wasn’t him though. I knew it wasn’t him, and I had to save you and protect him, and I still didn’t know if you were dead.”
“I couldn’t do it though. I couldn’t put the pieces together like Mr. Weasley did, and my father was the one to save himself. I did nothing, and I’m sorry, Al. I’m so, so sorry.”
Scorpius lay there, gasping for breath around random sobs, and Al realised that everything had been worth it. Scorpius was worth it.
“I don’t care. I’m safe, and I have you, and I’m happy.” Al traced his fingers down the edge of Scorpius’s jaw. “Everything is okay now.”
He could feel Scorpius’s frown under his fingertips. “It’s not okay though. I was a failure. I couldn’t do anything!”
“You didn’t need to do anything. I don’t know what all happened, but they figured it out, and they saved me. That’s all that is important.”
It was odd that Al was the one who had been hurt, and yet Scorpius was the one who was upset. Yet, Al thought it made sense. That was who they were. Scorpius had always felt things more deeply than Al. He had been the one to fall in love first, the one to silently stand by Al and support his Slytherin Pride campaign even though he thought it was stupid, and the one to simply grin when Al kissed him on the day Al finally opened his eyes and truly saw Scorpius. Al responded to insults with a hex or a punch and then forgot about them, but Scorpius took them and ruminated on them until they festered and Al would find him staring blankly at a wall, his broken heart written on his face. Al was action; Scorpius was emotion.
Moreover, that was why he loved him. People claimed that Al was the passionate one, the driven one, but he wasn’t. Scorpius was private with his emotions, but when he shared them, Al always felt like he was being swept away by a tidal wave. It was perfection.
“You had to go through so much though... if I had done something sooner you wouldn’t have had to go through that!”
Al stopped stoking Scorpius’s hair to smack him gently upside the head. “Oh, shut up.”
Scorpius made an irritated snorting-huff sound, and Al laughed.
“You’re a kid. I’m a kid. An adult decided to pick on me and we were powerless against him.” Al was making this up off the top of his head, blurting out whatever nonsense came to mind, but it made sense. “We can’t be expected to defend ourselves against adults. Our parents fought adults when they were our age, even killed them, but it was just insane. You can’t expect yourself to be as strong as they are because expectations like that are just crazy.” Al had tried to fight back, and during the lucid moments of the torture, he had felt like a failure for not being able to escape, but that was just silly really. “I couldn’t protect myself, but that’s okay. One day we will be adults, and then you can worry yourself sick about being powerless or whatnot.”
Scorpius pulled himself off Al’s legs. “I love you. I missed you.”
“Me too,” said Al, and then Scorpius was leaning over his head, and Al could feel Scorpius’s breath against his lips. “Kiss me?”
Scorpius did. Al cherished the feelings, pushing away the memories of Goyle’s hand, his knife, his wand, and replacing them with the feel of Scorpius’s hair on his cheek, his chapped lips against Al’s own, and his tears falling onto Al’s face. It felt like everything was normal, like everything was going to be all right.
Al was the one who broke the kiss, pulling away a little breathless. “It will be okay,” Al said aloud.
“Will it?” Scorpius asked quietly. “Will it ever be all right again?”
“It will. I can get over this, and I can win us our rights. Then everything will be fine.”
Scorpius froze. “Al, no. You can’t keep up this fight. You’ll get hurt!” Scorpius’s body was still, but his voice was full of emotions.
Al said, “I won’t get hurt. I’ll learn how to protect myself. But I need to get the laws changed, for us.”
“You can’t!” Scorpius protested. “You can’t... at least... not alone.”
It really was worth it, everything. “Then we’ll do it together.”
Scorpius laid his head on Al’s shoulder and sighed deeply. “All right.”
Al leaned his head on Scorpius’s. “We can do it.” He really believed it. Al didn’t know if he could do it alone, but with Scorpius at his side, everything would be fine.
~*~
PART II-A
PART II-B
PART I-B
~*~
When Draco opened the door of his hotel room to a knock at seven in the morning, he was expecting to find a bellhop with breakfast.
Instead of finding a platter of pancakes and bacon, his guilty pleasure, he opened the door to a bevy of English and American Aurors.
“Draco Malfoy, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…” An American Auror proceeded to rattle off a list of rights as another Auror immediately spelled him into bindings.
Draco sighed and listened to his rights quietly. When the Auror trailed off, he piped up. “What exactly am I being charged with?”
This time an English Auror spoke. “You have been charged as an accessory to kidnapping,” he said smugly.
“Kidnapping who?”
The Smarty-Pants English Auror snarled at him. “Albus Potter, of course.”
Years as a Muggle-Wizard Liaison Lawyer had not prepared him for that sentence. “What are you on about?”
Smarty-Pants smirked at him. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of the investigation with you at this time. I’m just here to escort you back to English soil.” The smirk grew. “I think you’ll be pleased to know that Harry Potter himself will be handling your questioning.”
Draco felt like slamming his head into the nearest available surface. “Damn.”
The American Auror who bound him turned to Smarty-Pants. “We’ll handle evidence collection with the help of your team members.”
Smarty-Pants nodded. “All right. I’ll transport him to England’s Ministry of Magic then.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed the edge of it into Draco’s hand. “Portus.”
The next thing he knew, Draco was whirling away by an International Portkey.
When he arrived, he found himself in a maximum security holding cell deep within the Ministry. Smarty-Pants quickly moved away from Draco and closed the door of the cell before cancelling the binding spell.
Draco took a deep breath and moved over to the cot in the cell. Sinking down onto it he tried to regain his composure after the quick Portkey. His head was swimming.
“Where’s my son?” Potter stood outside of the cell, his face as livid as it had been during one of their fights at Hogwarts.
Draco frowned. “I don’t know.”
Potter slammed his fist into the bars of the cell, making them shudder loudly. “Malfoy. Where. Is. My. Son?”
Draco sneered at him. “Potter! I. Don’t. Know!”
Potter whipped out his wand then. “Do not mess with me. Where did you have my son kidnapped to?”
Draco wanted to stand and move to the bars to confront Potter, but his head was still incredibly dizzy. Instead he glared right at Potter. “I didn’t kidnap him. I don’t know how you came up with this idea, but I haven’t even been in the country for a week.” He snapped into lawyer mode. “I need to know what probable cause you have that allowed you to arrest me so suddenly.” Hopefully Potter would not have enough evidence to hold him for long.
“The kidnapper came forward with your name as the man who paid him.”
Well, damn. That was very obvious evidence.
“You’re certain he didn’t lie?”
Potter’s face flushed. “Of course! We immediately had him sign the waiver and complete the Veritaserum test. He also signed away his rights to the memories of the crime, so we have experts going over the memories in Pensieves right now.”
Draco placed his elbows on his knees and rested his face in his hands. “I’ll gladly take a Veritaserum test and give you my memories as well.” His head was positively foggy. “Also, can I get some food? Your Aurors interrupted my breakfast.”
Potter looked like he was going to burst. “My son has been missing for over 60 hours, and you want food?”
“My blood sugar is low. You are required to keep all prisoners healthy, especially those with medical needs like diabetes, under the Prisoner’s Rights Act established in 2003 and amended in 2015.”
Potter groaned, and Draco wanted to laugh at the sound. “This is why I hate arresting lawyers.” He slammed his wand into an Intercom Box and barked at the person who answered to have some food delivered. “All right, your food is on the way. Now, you said you would undergo Veritaserum and give up your memory-rights, correct?”
“I’ll give verbal agreement.” He waited a moment while Potter activated a recording spell. “I, Draco Malfoy, hereby agree to allow questioning related to the charges I am under while under the influence of Veritaserum. I understand that I will be forced to tell the truth. I understand that anything I say can be used for or against me. I understand that I risk injury by allowing this, and agree to the questioning on the basis that the Ministry of Magic will provide Medi-Wizards to monitor my wellbeing at all times. I, Draco Malfoy, hereby allow the Ministry of Magic access to my memories which pertain to the time during which this crime is alleged to have been committed. I will provide the memories to be Pensieved when requested by the Ministry. I understand that I will lose the ability to access the memories until a complete and accurate copy has been created by the Ministry.” He gave up trying to sit up in the bed and flopped down onto his back. Laying there, he took a deep breath before asking, “Is that good enough?”
Potter ended the recording spell and nodded. “Thank you.”
Draco sighed deeply. “It’s all right. I’ve a boy too. I understand. Gotta get this done quick. I’ve an important meeting in New York City today.”
Potter nodded. “All right. Thank you for cooperating.” Potter smiled a little sadly. “I’m hoping you didn’t do it. Scorpius was crushed when your name came up on the suspects list.”
Draco waved him away. “Whatever, Potter. I didn’t do it. Now, go fetch me some food so I have the energy to answer your questions.”
Snorting loudly, Potter left the room outside of the cell, leaving Draco alone. Draco groaned and covered his eyes with an arm. Jeeze. Get involved with a crazy megalomaniac’s plan for world domination when you are sixteen and you automatically end up on every suspect list for the next thirty years.
Draco was surprised at how quickly Potter had cooled off though. Maybe the man had finally figured out how to use his brain properly.
The door to the room outside of his cell slammed open. “Oi! Princess Malfoy, your food’s here!”
“Nice to see you too, Weasel.”
Draco pulled his arm away from his eyes and watched Weasley blush dark red. “Shut up! Come get your food. You better eat quick; the Veritaserum questioning has just been okayed. We’ll be administering the potion in a little over fifteen minutes.”
Draco blinked rapidly. Damn. When the “Man Who Lived” wanted something done, it got done fast. It usually took hours, if not days, to get Veritaserum questioning permits. He stood and walked over to the door. Looking at the plate, he cringed. “Who decided that dry toast and an apple was suitable fare?”
Weasley shrugged. “I dunno.” He turned and left without another word.
Did they not teach manners in Gryffindor Tower? Draco poked at his toast for a moment before picking it up and biting it. Ugh, it was stale as well. Honestly, this was simply not right. Accusing an innocent man and then torturing him with horrid food had to break some law. Draco would be looking into this as soon as he was released.
Draco found himself wondering then exactly why he was locked up. Someone had come forward with the information that he had Albus Potter kidnapped. That bit made sense, but why had they chosen to kidnap Albus in the first place? Draco hadn’t spent much time around the boy, but Scorpius was close to him and seemed to think he was all right. He wanted to know why, know more, so that he could solve the case. As it was, he had no idea what the motive would be or why the kidnapper had chosen this time to attack Albus.
As he munched on his dry toast, Draco considered what he knew about Albus. He was a seventh year, like Scorpius. He was reportedly popular in school, regardless of his “Slytherin Pride” obsession. That was something that could have caused Albus to be kidnapped. No proper Slytherin went about fighting for their rights in public arenas like that. It just wasn’t done. The Slytherin Pride movement had long ago faded away though. There was no reason for someone to kidnap Albus over that. So why?
The door outside of his cell slammed open, and a blur of light hair and dark robes launched itself at the cell bars. “Father, please tell me you didn’t do it! There’s no way that you kidnapped Al! Is there?”
“Nice to see you too, Scorpius. It is indeed a lovely day outside.”
Scorpius rolled his eyes at him. “It’s pouring buckets. Did you do it?”
Draco fought the temptation to roll his eyes back. “I haven’t been allowed outside of this cell since I touched English soil. Forgive me if I don’t know the weather.”
“Did you do it?” asked Scorpius.
“No! Of course not! Why on earth would I have kidnapped your friend?”
“Well, you are always talking about how being gay is unnatural...”
Draco quirked an eyebrow at his son. “And that applies to the kidnapping how?”
Scorpius sighed deeply then. “I knew you didn’t do it!”
“I know, you know, we all know I didn’t do it. What I don’t know is what homosexuality has to do with me being locked up in a cell.” Draco crossed his arms, surreptitiously brushing toast crumbs off his robes before Scorpius saw them.
“Al came out to the wizarding world. The Aurors think he was kidnapped because of that.”
Draco nodded slowly. Yes, that probably would have been enough to infuriate some person enough to kidnap him. But who?
“Why did Potter decide to come out? Surely he realized that he would be putting himself at risk,” Draco pondered out loud, more to air out his thoughts than to actually speak.
Scorpius replied anyway. “Um... he was... fighting for rights. So he could... um, marry his boyfriend one day.”
Draco had been a lawyer for almost twenty years. He knew what stumbling over words meant. Scorpius had just told him much more than what his words had said. Draco looked at his son hard. The boy was sweating a little, and his breathing was rather harsh. When he nervously reached up to brush the hair out of his eyes, his hand was trembling.
This was way too much information to process in one day if Draco’s suspicions were true.
Careful not to stumble over his own words, Draco asked, “Who is his boyfriend?”
And there! A blush was spreading across Scorpius’s cheeks. Draco wanted to groan and moan and shriek at the unfairness of it all. He had begun to think that perhaps Scorpius was a bit... bent, but the fact that he and Potter’s kid were planning marriage was throwing Draco for a loop. A very, very large loop.
Taking a deep breath, Draco took a moment to compose a reply. “Was I to be invited to your wedding then?”
Scorpius looked astonished. “But, I didn’t... how did you know?”
Draco pushed his food to the side and stood to approach his son. Scorpius flinched a little as he grew closer. Pushing an arm between the bars of his cell, he ruffled his son’s hair. “I know you too well. Besides, you have never mentioned a girlfriend. I was getting suspicious.”
Scorpius looked at him, and Draco wondered where his little boy had gone. They were the same height now. He pulled his hand away from his son’s hair, feeling a little lost, as if he was touching a stranger. Then Scorpius started to sob.
“Al’s gone! I don’t know what to do. And they’ve got you under suspicion, and they went and questioned Mum and Grandfather and Grandmother. They don’t trust us, and Al’s gone...”
Draco fought a smile as Scorpius cried so hard his shoulders shook. His little boy still had some growing to do after all.
“Scorpius, it will be okay. I promise.”
Scorpius wailed, “But how do you know?”
“Albus is the son of ‘The Chosen One,’ and if I know Potter, he won’t leave any stone unturned until he finds his son. I’ll be out of here soon, and then everything will be all right.” Draco watched as his son slowly calmed at his words. “Now, pull yourself together. You are a Malfoy; where is your dignity?”
Scorpius laughed lightly.
Draco sighed overdramatically then. “Still, of all the boys in Hogwarts, why did you have to pick a Potter? There’s Jimmy Nott or Toby Morley or-“
Scorpius smiled sadly. “Al’s my best friend.”
Draco continued on light-heartedly. “That’s hardly a good reason. Greg and Vince were my best friends, and I didn’t marry them.”
Grimacing, Scorpius groaned. “Honestly, Dad, I did not need the mental image of you in a threesome.”
Draco blanched. “That is not what I meant!”
Scorpius chuckled, and Draco could see he was forgetting about the predicament slightly. “Sure. Just keep your sexual fantasies to yourself, please.”
Oh, to be seventeen again, when the only thing you thought about was sex. Well, most seventeen year olds thought about sex. Draco had been busy worrying over Dark Lords, Death Eaters, and Potter. Alright, he had been trying to figure out how to get Pansy into his bed too, but still! Draco was just glad that his son had been able to live a normal life as a normal kid.
He joked around with Scorpius for a few more minutes when the door opened and Potter entered with three Aurors Draco did not recognise and the Weasel.
Scorpius spun around to face him. “Have you found Al yet?”
Weasley shook his head. “Not yet, sorry.” Scorpius’s shoulders drooped.
One of the other Aurors stepped forward, a blonde woman. “Draco Malfoy, we are ready to begin questioning you under Veritaserum now.” Draco nodded, and she continued. “Please step away from the door of your cell.”
Draco moved back to his bed, and only started slightly when a male Auror spelled bindings around him. The cell door clicked open then, and the female Auror stepped inside. She withdrew a tiny vial from her robes and, once Draco had opened his mouth, poured the three drops that were inside of it onto his tongue. The sensation of falling under a compulsion repelled Draco immediately. Veritaserum’s effects were far too much like Imperius for Draco’s comfort.
“State your full name please,” the blonde asked. She was obviously going to be the main questioner.
“Draco Lucius Malfoy.”
“Where were you this past Wednesday evening?”
“New York City.” He hid a smirk as the woman rolled her eyes.
“Why were you in New York City and how long were you there?”
Draco’s mouth was spitting out the words before he could even think. “I was at a business conference for Muggle-Wizard Liaison Lawyers. I arrived in New York the Tuesday before that at 7:23 AM, and I was forcibly removed from New York at 7:03 AM this morning.”
“Did you leave the city at any time before that?”
“I left the city once to visit a mall in New Jersey.”
“Why?”
Draco blushed lightly. “I was picking up a present for my wife.”
The questioner rolled her eyes. “Very well. When was the last time you spoke with Terrence Higgs?”
“June 13, 2017, when he took me out for dinner as a thank you for saving his butt in court.”
“Have you had any type of contact with him since then?”
“No.”
The woman frowned. “Have you contacted him through someone else since then?”
“No.”
“Did you pay someone to kidnap Albus Potter or to arrange the kidnapping?”
“No.”
The frown grew. “Did you participate in the kidnapping of Albus Severus Potter in any way?”
“No.”
Scorpius smiled brightly. “See! I knew he didn’t do it!”
Weasley put a hand on Scorpius’s shoulder and shook his head, and Scorpius subsided.
“Tell us everything you know about the kidnapping.”
“Albus Severus Potter was kidnapped.”
“You don’t know anything else?” The woman looked a little lost.
“That is the only fact I know.” Draco didn’t offer up the information his son had shared with him. None of that was a fact, as far as Draco was concerned. He only had his son’s word to go on, and that could easily by untrue.
The questioner sighed and turned to Potter. “I have no more questions.”
Potter nodded “All right. Please administer the counter-potion then, and we’ll begin the memory extraction.”
Scorpius jolted. “Why do you need his memories? He already said he didn’t do it!”
Weasley squeezed his shoulder gently. “If his memories have been changed, he can lie and say that he didn’t do it, even under Veritaserum. We have to examine the memories for tampering before he can be cleared.”
Scorpius nodded minutely and didn’t say anything. The questioner administered the counter-potion and stepped out of the cell, allowing the two unknown male Aurors to enter. One held a large vial in his hand, which he unsealed.
“We will be removing the memories from two days before the kidnapping until your arrival in this cell,” one of the men muttered. He pushed his wand up to Draco’s temple, and Draco focused on the memories in question. As they slowly faded out of his consciousness, the wand moved away from his head towards the vial. The silvery memories filled the clear glass almost to the top. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
Draco nodded, a little dizzy from the after-effects of Veritaserum and the sudden feeling he had lost something, namely his memories. The men left the cell, shutting the door behind him, and Draco was released from his bonds.
Potter nodded at him, and then led the Aurors Draco did not know out. Weasley stayed behind for a moment. “We’ll be done with this soon. You can stay here till then, Scorpius.” Scorpius nodded and then he left too.
The solid surface of the bed was steadying when Draco sunk down to sit on it. He cleared his throat, and shook his head to clear away the vertigo he was experiencing. “Well, there’s nothing to do but wait.”
~*~
Scorpius laughed at his father’s joke, and then he felt guilty. Al could be dead somewhere, and Scorpius was laughing. He was an awful boyfriend. He didn’t even deserve to be called that.
“What is it?” his father asked quietly.
Scorpius shook his head, and his father simply nodded in reply. Scorpius was grateful; he didn’t feel like talking about Al.
He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, and he pulled them up to his chest so he could prop his chin up on his knees. What was Scorpius doing? He should be out there looking for Al.
What could he do though? He hadn’t even been able to save Al from being kidnapped in the first place.
Suddenly the room felt too confining, as if Scorpius was the one locked up, instead of his father. He stood and stretched. Then he turned to his father. “I need to go see if I can help.”
His father glared at him. “Don’t go gallivanting off on your own. I don’t want them dragging you home in pieces.”
Scorpius gave him a wan smile. “I won’t, promise.”
“All right then. Get out of here.”
“I’ll see you soon, Dad. They’ll let you out.” His father waved him off, and Scorpius left. He headed for the Auror offices, anxious to know what was going on. When he arrived, the place was crazy.
He saw Mr. Weasley across the main room, and went to talk to him. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Mr. Weasley pointed at one section of the room, “They are working on a murder case from yesterday, a young woman found dead in Knockturn,” then to another section, “They’ve just started investigating a call that came in about Muggle’s being attacked in downtown London,” and then to another section, “And they’ve got a lead on an older rape case.” Then he gestured to the few people around him. “And we are working on Al.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if everyone was working on Al’s case?” Scorpius asked. “We have to find him soon.”
Mr. Weasley shook his head. “Every case is important. Harry can’t show favouritism by assigning all of the Aurors to his son’s case. He does have some of the best working on it though, and all leads are being followed immediately. So don’t worry, we have it more than covered.”
Scorpius shrugged. “If you say so.” He looked over the papers on the table in front of them. “What’s all this?”
“Various things we know about the case. I like to write it all out on papers so I can rearrange it and try to connect clues.”
Scorpius noticed one blue slip of paper was stacked on top of a pink slip. The blue slip read “Malfoy innocent according to his Veritaserum. Memories passed tests.” He pushed the slip to the side, and read the one underneath. “Malfoy guilty according to Higg’s Veritaserum test. Memories passed test.”
“What do these two mean?” he asked Mr. Weasley.
The man looked where he was pointing. “Ah. Unfortunately, that’s the biggest problem we are having with the case. Higg’s definitely met Malfoy and was hired by him. He said so under Veritaserum, and his memories say the same thing. Yet, your dad says he didn’t do it, and his memories agreed. None of the memories are false, so we are at a loss.”
How odd. Scorpius knew his dad didn’t do it, so why did it look like he did? “Maybe Higg’s is confused. He could have just met someone who looked similar to my dad.”
“No, he definitely met Malfoy. I saw the memories myself. It looked exactly like him.” Mr. Weasley’s face lit up suddenly. “That’s it!”
“What?” Scorpius asked as Mr. Weasley began shuffling around papers on the table.
“It looked like Malfoy, but we can’t prove from the memories that it was him, because his memories don’t match. Which means that the one who looked like Malfoy wasn’t actually Malfoy.”
Scorpius was completely lost. “What?”
“It was a glamour or Polyjuice! Of course!” He shuffled through the papers some more. “Who could it have been? The Notts have alibis and all the Malfoys have willingly undergone Veritaserum questioning now, so Goyle is the only one we haven’t talked to...” He turned to Scorpius, his eyes slightly wild. “Does your father have contact with Gregory Goyle?”
“Yeah, but what does-“
Mr. Weasley cut him off with a cry of delight. “It must be him then. He’s Polyjuiced himself into Malfoy. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” The light in his eyes dimmed. “But he doesn’t have a motive.”
Scorpius thought about the dark and hulking man who periodically visited his father. Scorpius had never been overly comfortable around him, especially after he became friends with Al, because he was always ranting about Harry Potter. “Um, if it helps... I think he hates Mr. Potter.” Scorpius could easily bring to mind the memories of his shouts about how Mr. Potter had killed Vincent Crabbe. His father always tried to tell Mr. Goyle that Crabbe had killed himself in the end, but Scorpius could not remember a time when Mr. Goyle had agreed with him.
“And he hates gays too.” Scorpius had heard him badmouthing homosexuals many times. It was one of the reasons he had been afraid to come out. He had thought that his father felt the same way. Finding out that his father was all right with it had been the only good thing about this ordeal.
Mr. Weasley nodded vigorously. “Of course! Al comes out and Goyle figures he can revenge himself on Harry by attacking his son. That has to be it...” He reached out and tapped the Intercom Box that was fixed to the wall. “Harry! I’ve figured it out!” He related his thoughts to Mr. Potter.
Mr. Potter’s voice came through the box clearly. “I think you’re right. I’ll get someone to start a check on his Gringott’s account and on his properties list. Hopefully we’ll figure out where he’s at.”
Mr. Weasley agreed and shut off the Box. He turned to Scorpius with a grin. “I think this is really it. Al will be back here safe and sound soon.”
Scorpius nodded, still feeling a little lost, and hoped that Mr. Weasley was right.
~*~
Al had been shuddering under the Cruciatus curse yet again when the door flew open, flooding the room with light and Aurors.
“Expelliarmus!” someone shouted, and Goyle’s wand flew out of his hand.
“Incarcerous,” called out another voice.
Al watched as Goyle was bound up in seconds. “You can’t do this!” Goyle screamed. “The law says I can hurt him! You can’t take me!”
Goyle was still screaming as the Portkeyed him out of the room. Al didn’t recognise the Aurors who untied him from the table, or at least he couldn’t tell who they were from the blurry shapes that his eyes seemed to see. He tried to ask them where his dad was. All that came out of his abused throat was a groan. Al swallowed, trying to talk, but his throat was too raw. He hadn’t had a proper drink of water in days, and the screams had ripped his throat up.
A large male Auror scooped him up gently, and a woman patted him on the head gently. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We are here to take you to St. Mungo’s. I’m sure your dad and mum will meet us there.”
Al tried to nod, but the flexing of his muscles set off a chain reaction, and before he knew it, his whole body was shaking. He wanted to stop, but tensing his muscles only seemed to make it worse. The Auror holding him hugged him closer, and suddenly they were Apparating away. He wasn’t sure when they arrived at St. Mungo’s because he passed out.
He woke to noisy sobs. Al opened his eyes and blinked to try to clear them. It was too bright and his eyes hurt. They didn’t want to focus either. Everything was too blurry. Al tried to move his head and he passed out again.
The next time he woke up, he couldn’t open his eyes. There was something on them that kept them from moving. He tried to reach up and feel for what it was, but the muscles in his arm refused to cooperate. In fact, he couldn’t make any of the muscles in his body move. His chest was moving, and he could feel his heart beating, so he couldn’t be dead. He continued to try to move some part of his body: a finger, a toe, his nose. The effort fatigued him, and again he fell unconscious.
Voices flooded his brain even when it felt like he was asleep. He heard his mother crying, and his father gruffly comforting her. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron brought his siblings and cousins to visit one day, and he heard all of their voices, overlapping in his head. Someone quiet visited alone. Albus could hear them moving around the room, looming over him for a minute before backing away. A quietly whispered goodbye identified the person as Scorpius. The healers and medi-wizards were in and out of the room all of the time, their voices sharp and normal against the sobs and whispers.
The first time Al really woke up, his mother was in the room crying again. She was sitting next to the bed, and her head was laid next to Al’s arm. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her warmth and hear her sobs. He reached out to touch her head, bumping into her nose before he was able to bury his hand in her hair.
She gasped. “Al?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but only a croak came out. He cleared his throat and broke into a hacking fit.
“Thank Merlin, you’re awake!” She stood then, the air whooshing around her as she moved. A bell went off, and his mother moved away from the bed. She was back in a few seconds, pushing a straw into Al’s mouth. He took a small sip and choked on the water, causing yet more coughing.
“Oh, dear.” A healer entered the room, her voice one of the ones Al had heard as he slept. “That’s some awful coughing. Let me try... this.” A glass or a vial of some sort was pressed against Al’s lower lip, and his head was tilted back. He reflexively swallowed the liquid that poured into his mouth and felt immediate relief as the pain that seared the back of his throat disappeared. His coughs continued for only a few more moments.
“Mum,” he finally managed to croak out.
“I’m here.” She reached out to brush aside some of his hair. Al could feel her hand caressing his cheek, and the hair tickled his ear as she tucked it back.
“Where?”
Her hand withdrew from his face and grasped his hand. “You’re in St. Mungo’s. You’ve been here for a week now.”
He was frustrated by the fact that he couldn’t see her, and he reached up to pull away the thing covering his eyes. His mom caught his other hand.
“Don’t do that sweetie.”
“I can’t see,” Al whined.
His mom squeezed his hands. “I know, and I’m sorry. The bandages are to help your eyes heal though, so you can’t take them off.”
Goyle had said they couldn’t be healed. “Heal?” he asked her, hoping she could understand. He didn’t think he could explain everything yet.
“The healers found out that you were blinded by a potion, and they think they can give you back some of your vision. I’m afraid you won’t get all of it back though.”
Al was just glad they would be able to give him back some of his sight. He had been afraid that he would be blind. “Scar? Head?”
His mother’s hand shook slightly. “That’s permanent,” she murmured.
If Al had been able to move properly, he would have shrugged. As it was, he was already feeling exhausted. The coughing fit had taken a lot of energy. “S’okay...” he mumbled as he fell back asleep.
He felt much better the next time he woke up. Without even thinking about it, he reached up to scratch his forehead. As his fingers touch it, he realized it was the scar was itchy. The wound had healed, but the scar tissue prickled as he touched it. He ran one fingertip over it, slowly tracing the design, and he realized it did feel exactly like his father’s scar. Al dropped his hand.
His eyes were still covered in a bandage, so Al tried to figure out what was happening through sounds. He could hear muffled voices, and there was a thump every few seconds that sounded like a door. The voices were getting closer to his door with every thump. Finally his door opened, and the voices came through clearly.
“You check his vital signs, and I’ll administer the medications,” a woman said. She was on his left side, and he felt her brush up against the bed. The other person moved to the other side of the bed, and Al had the feeling that a spell was being cast. A moment later his body prickled from his toes through his legs and his torso and then up to his head and down to his fingers.
“Vital signs look fine, but his heart rate is elevated.” It sounded like a man.
Al spoke up then. “I’m awake.”
One of them shrieked, and it didn’t sound like the woman, to Al’s amusement.
“Oh, good,” the woman said and touched his arm. “We were getting worried about you, young man. How do you feel?”
Al rubbed his throat. “Sore.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll fix that...” For a moment, there was the sound of tinkling glass before a vial was pressed to his mouth, and Al swallowed obediently.
The potion inside of it coated his throat, cooling it. Al took a deep breath, grateful that it didn’t hurt. “That’s better.” He struggled to sit up then, feeling slightly vulnerable lying down.
“Here, let me help.” The man’s voice came from the foot of the bed, and Al started. He hadn’t realised the man had moved. Then the bed began to shift under Al, and he cried out. “I’m sorry, I should have explained. I’m adjusting the bed so you can sit up.”
Al accepted the knowledge quietly, feeling silly for having been spooked by something so small. Part of the bed slowly rose, pushing Al along with it, until Al was sitting up somewhat.
“What time is it?” Al asked.
The woman answered, “It’s almost eight in the morning. Visiting hours are about to start, and I’m sure you’ll have someone here to see you soon.”
Al immediately wished that his mother was with him. He remembered that she had been there when he woke up last time. Being unable to see was making him feel lost and alone, even with two people in the room.
“I’m going to see how well your wounds are healing now, okay?” The man was back at Al’s side then.
Al nodded in agreement, and waited for the prickling feeling to return. Instead, he felt a wand poke his chest, in the same way Goyle’s wand had every time he cast Sectumsepra. Al fell into the memories without meaning to, feeling the wand poking against his side, hearing the whispered spell, and then screaming soundlessly as the pain ripped through him. He shrieked aloud, jolting away from the wand, and bumping into the side of his bed. Someone touched him, probably the woman, and Al cried out, pulling away from the hand.
“No, please, stop. Leave me alone!”
He knew he wasn’t in the dark room with Goyle. He couldn’t help feeling like he was still trapped in the room though. It was dark, he couldn’t see through the bandages, and the wand had prodded him. His whole body tensed up, waiting for pain that never came.
The man was speaking, but Al couldn’t tell what he was saying. The woman’s voice drifted through his head, but he didn’t understand. Al wasn’t sure of anything anymore. His body was beginning to ache from being tensed up, and the muscles were vibrating softly. There was movement in the room. He felt his muscles begin to shudder, and then he was shaking all over. A hand grabbed his throat. Al screamed and gagged as something was poured down his throat. The hand moved away, but Al continued to scream until he passed out.
He came to in a room full of people. He could tell by the voices. There was the anxious rumble of his father, the worried high pitch of his mother, and the normal, calming voices of the healers. Al cried out for his mother when he recognised her, and she was at his side in an instant. His father was right behind her. Al could sense them, but neither of them touched him.
“Mum, what’s going on?”
“You had a break down and we don’t know why. Can you tell us what happened?”
The feeling of the wand prodding his side flooded Al’s mind. “It was the wand. It poked me, and I wasn’t expecting it.” He paused, took a deep breath and continued. “Goyle did that whenever he cast a spell, poked me with the wand, I mean.”
His mum gasped, and his dad cursed loudly.
“I... Mum, Dad... can I hold a hand?” Al felt like a baby for asking, but without the able to see or feel them, it felt like they were so far away.
“Oh, Al!” His mother’s hands clasped one of his, and his father took hold of the other hand.
“We didn’t want to touch you. The healers told us you got upset when the medi-wizards touched you.”
Al shook his head. “No, it was the wand.”
His mother ran her hand over his cheek, and Al leaned into her touch. “We won’t let them do it again. Poor baby...”
Al frowned in her direction. “I’m not a baby!”
His father actually had the audacity to laugh at him.
“What? I’m not!”
Then both of his parents were crying, and Al didn’t know why. He waited until they calmed down, and asked them what was going to happen to him next.
“The healers told us that you’ll probably be here for another two weeks while they heal your eyes. The rest of your wounds are almost gone, and they’ve completed the post-Cruciatus potion treatment already. The Headmistress has promised to help you catch up on your class work, and Scorpius is keeping tabs of the homework and notes in all of your classes.” His father spoke quietly, but firmly, and Al felt like things were almost normal.
“And will I be... okay?”
His dad squeezed his hand. “You have some bad scarring on your torso, back and thighs. They were able to heal most of the scarring on your arms, lower legs and face, aside from the scar on your forehead.”
Al nodded. He had known the lightning bolt would be permanent.
“Most of the muscle scarring from the Cruciatus has also been healed. You’ll probably always suffer from random muscle tremors though, especially if you try to do any exercising. I’m afraid Quidditch is going to be impossible.”
Al’s heart sank a little. He had always adored Quidditch, even though he hadn’t been good enough to play on the House team.
“Your eyes will... well, we aren’t sure how your eyes will heal. The potion was meant to blind you by destroying the tissues of your cornea, but Goyle said he tampered with it to try to dilute it. The healers think that because of this, not all of the tissue was destroyed, so now they are trying to re-grow it from what’s left. You might never get all of your sight back, but the healers say you’ll be able to see light and dark, shapes and perhaps colours too.” His dad’s voice dropped off when Al didn’t reply.
Oh. Well, Al had been hoping for more than that. When his mother told him they were healing his eyes, he thought it meant he would simply have bad vision like his dad. Only being able to see light and dark was almost as bad as being completely blind.
His mother squeezed his hand so hard it hurt. “Don’t worry though, love. We’ll help you through this. You can do it.”
Al tried to smile. “Yeah, I can do it.”
He didn’t really think he could though. When the healers came in and informed him of all of the details of his injuries, Al thought he was going to be sick. He didn’t know how to feel besides slightly nauseous. He wasn’t sure whether he was sad or happy that his injuries were as insignificant as they were. They still existed, so how could he be happy? Yet, he still had his life and was mostly unharmed, so how could he be sad?
His parents stayed with him until he fell asleep. He woke up later with a jolt, his heart racing suddenly and his ears attuned to any movements.
The sound of a door shutting echoed in the room, and Al decided that the door opening must have startled him awake.
Footsteps crossed the room slowly, and Al had the image of Goyle stalking around the table invade his head. Stifling a scream, Al reminded himself that he was safe in St. Mungo’s. He snapped his head towards the footsteps and demanded, “Who’s there?”
The footsteps stilled. “It’s me,” a voice said, and Al started to smile. “Um, Scorpius, that is.”
Al’s smile stretched into a wide grin. “I’m blind, not deaf. I think I can recognise my own boyfriend’s voice.”
The footsteps raced towards him suddenly, and the next thing he knew, Al had a sobbing Scorpius draped over his lap.
“Merlin, Al, I thought you might be dead. I couldn’t do anything; I couldn’t help anyone, and you might have been dead somewhere.” Al stroked Scorpius’s hair quietly. In almost seven years of knowing him, Al had never seen Scorpius cry, no matter how hard he crashed playing Quidditch or how many blokes bullied him for being a “Death Eater’s kid.” Al was at a loss for words.
“I tried to help, and I told them everything, even about how we snuck out. The Headmistress gave me a month of detentions, and Mr. Weasley said they would find you, and then they blamed my dad. It wasn’t him though. I knew it wasn’t him, and I had to save you and protect him, and I still didn’t know if you were dead.”
“I couldn’t do it though. I couldn’t put the pieces together like Mr. Weasley did, and my father was the one to save himself. I did nothing, and I’m sorry, Al. I’m so, so sorry.”
Scorpius lay there, gasping for breath around random sobs, and Al realised that everything had been worth it. Scorpius was worth it.
“I don’t care. I’m safe, and I have you, and I’m happy.” Al traced his fingers down the edge of Scorpius’s jaw. “Everything is okay now.”
He could feel Scorpius’s frown under his fingertips. “It’s not okay though. I was a failure. I couldn’t do anything!”
“You didn’t need to do anything. I don’t know what all happened, but they figured it out, and they saved me. That’s all that is important.”
It was odd that Al was the one who had been hurt, and yet Scorpius was the one who was upset. Yet, Al thought it made sense. That was who they were. Scorpius had always felt things more deeply than Al. He had been the one to fall in love first, the one to silently stand by Al and support his Slytherin Pride campaign even though he thought it was stupid, and the one to simply grin when Al kissed him on the day Al finally opened his eyes and truly saw Scorpius. Al responded to insults with a hex or a punch and then forgot about them, but Scorpius took them and ruminated on them until they festered and Al would find him staring blankly at a wall, his broken heart written on his face. Al was action; Scorpius was emotion.
Moreover, that was why he loved him. People claimed that Al was the passionate one, the driven one, but he wasn’t. Scorpius was private with his emotions, but when he shared them, Al always felt like he was being swept away by a tidal wave. It was perfection.
“You had to go through so much though... if I had done something sooner you wouldn’t have had to go through that!”
Al stopped stoking Scorpius’s hair to smack him gently upside the head. “Oh, shut up.”
Scorpius made an irritated snorting-huff sound, and Al laughed.
“You’re a kid. I’m a kid. An adult decided to pick on me and we were powerless against him.” Al was making this up off the top of his head, blurting out whatever nonsense came to mind, but it made sense. “We can’t be expected to defend ourselves against adults. Our parents fought adults when they were our age, even killed them, but it was just insane. You can’t expect yourself to be as strong as they are because expectations like that are just crazy.” Al had tried to fight back, and during the lucid moments of the torture, he had felt like a failure for not being able to escape, but that was just silly really. “I couldn’t protect myself, but that’s okay. One day we will be adults, and then you can worry yourself sick about being powerless or whatnot.”
Scorpius pulled himself off Al’s legs. “I love you. I missed you.”
“Me too,” said Al, and then Scorpius was leaning over his head, and Al could feel Scorpius’s breath against his lips. “Kiss me?”
Scorpius did. Al cherished the feelings, pushing away the memories of Goyle’s hand, his knife, his wand, and replacing them with the feel of Scorpius’s hair on his cheek, his chapped lips against Al’s own, and his tears falling onto Al’s face. It felt like everything was normal, like everything was going to be all right.
Al was the one who broke the kiss, pulling away a little breathless. “It will be okay,” Al said aloud.
“Will it?” Scorpius asked quietly. “Will it ever be all right again?”
“It will. I can get over this, and I can win us our rights. Then everything will be fine.”
Scorpius froze. “Al, no. You can’t keep up this fight. You’ll get hurt!” Scorpius’s body was still, but his voice was full of emotions.
Al said, “I won’t get hurt. I’ll learn how to protect myself. But I need to get the laws changed, for us.”
“You can’t!” Scorpius protested. “You can’t... at least... not alone.”
It really was worth it, everything. “Then we’ll do it together.”
Scorpius laid his head on Al’s shoulder and sighed deeply. “All right.”
Al leaned his head on Scorpius’s. “We can do it.” He really believed it. Al didn’t know if he could do it alone, but with Scorpius at his side, everything would be fine.
~*~
PART II-A
PART II-B