Like Fools: Chapter Ten
Title: Like Fools
Author: Kimberry531/Clandestinelle (same person)
Rating: R
Pairing: Al/Scorpius
Word Count: 52,207 total; ~5k this chapter.
Summary: In the middle of his quest to find and master the Elder Wand which his father didn’t want, Al finds his family in the midst of a second Wizarding war. While in hiding, Al finds himself struggling to fight against feelings for one of the other refugees - blonde, sweet, innocent Scorpius Malfoy. However, when the war takes a turn for the worse, Al finds that he suddenly has bigger problems than his heart, and the two must embark on a frightening adventure fit only for Gryffindor idiots.
Notes: This fic is COMPLETE and will be updated every Monday and every Friday.
Dedication: Rosa, Slashfiend337, for getting me out of my two-month pit of despair of the last chapter and setting it straight within thirty minutes. Owe her my soul. And this fic.
“On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous
Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout
Parais qu'le bonheur est à portée de main,
Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou
I’m told that fate makes fun of us,
That it gives us nothing and promises everything,
When happiness seems to be within our grasp,
We reach out and find ourselves like fools”
- Carla Bruni
It was as if they had never even fought, despite the visible proof that Scorpius still refused to heal magically. It was as if all of their feelings and doubts and grudges had simply evaporated with this sudden change. They were going to risk their lives and possibly end the war, and it put everything into a perspective that made their life at Grimmauld seem small and petty.
“Our ultimate goal is to stun or disarm Rhinehart,” Al said. The two of them were at a table in the library, talking in hushed tones. They had kept their mission a secret. Too many wizards spoil the potion, Granny Weasley had always said, and Slytherins liked to keep their plotting amongst snakes. “And then whichever of us did it is the Master, and can just kill everyone who gets in the way of us killing Rhinehart.”
Scorpius squirmed. “I’d feel better if it were you, to tell the truth.”
Al squinted at him. “Seriously? But it’s the Unbeatable Wand.”
Scorpius bit his lip. “I know,” he said. “But there are things I’d rather have in life. You can be unbeatable. I’ll make my own way.”
Al nodded. “Then if you defeat Rhinehart, I’ll just make it somehow pass to me. So we need to find his camp and somehow to get to him. If the entire Order of the Phoenix took months to find his camp, how will we find it?”
Scorpius sent Al a sly sideways look. “I kind of already figured that part out.”
Al leveled him with a look. “Do tell, mastermind.”
“Well,” Scorpius said, “Rhinehart wants me really badly. I figure all I’ve got to do is walk somewhere in broad daylight and his men would have me at his feet. But if somehow you could be with me under your Invisibility Cloak, then you could back me up. I could convince Rhinehart I’d just been waiting to get out from under my father’s watch, and that I wanted to be on his side all along. I could stay however long it took to convince him that I was loyal. We could communicate silently, and you could always watch my back.”
“What if he never trusted you that much?” Al asked, but it was clear by his tone that he was impressed with how much Scorpius had worked out.
“Then at least we’d be in the camp. I mean, once we’re there we can work things out.”
“Okay,” Al said slowly, thinking hard. “So you’re in the camp. You can play the part and relay information to me and I can watch your back. But what about me? I can’t just wander onto camp under my cloak and take food, or huddle in an unused sleeping bag. There’s no way I’d go unnoticed.”
Scorpius got a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I had an idea about that, too.”
Al grinned. “You’re full of ‘em tonight. Alright, let’s hear it.”
“We could become unregistered Animagus,” Scorpius said excitedly.
“How would we do that?” Al asked flatly. “We don’t even have anyone to teach us.”
Scorpius grinned. “Sure we do. I meant to show you a long time ago, but then we started fighting. Come on!”
He led Al to a staircase at the end of the hallway, which led up to a nicely furnished room. It was well lit from large windows and had a giant four-poster bed.
“I guess this is the room they made for Teddy, since your dad wants him to have the house,” Scorpius said. “I don’t think he’s used it much, but it has a very personal touch - look.”
He pointed up at the wall across from the four-poster bed. Taking up a good amount of the wall was a painting of three young men. In the middle was a black-haired young man who looked just like Al’s dad except with brown eyes. To his left with an arm slung around the Potter’s shoulders was a tall, thin young man with black hair and a mischievous grin. Al thought he saw an awful lot of Scorpius in that grin. To this man’s left was a shorter boy with sandy hair, who looked abashed. Al did a double-take - on first glance, he had thought the boy was Teddy. There seemed to have once been more to the painting, but it was crudely cut down the right side, leaving a panel empty. None of the boys in the painting seemed to have any qualms with this.
“Who are they?” Al asked.
“Lookit that, James,” the boy in the middle said. “A Black and a Potter, just like old times.”
“I’m not a Black,” Scorpius said.
“Your Grammy is, if you’re who I think you are,” the portrait replied. “Malfoy is all over your face. And Narcissa Malfoy was a Black.”
“He’s right,” Al said. “I noticed right away that he reminded me of you. Is the one on the right… is that my grandfather? It is, right? I’ve only seen pictures.”
“Yeah,” Scorpius said. “The Black calls him James, and that’s your grandfather’s name, right?”
“The one on the left,” Al said, stepping closer. “He looks just like Teddy.”
“Teddy was my son,” the portrait told him. “This is where he stays when he’s here. Harry gave him the portrait so he’d have this piece of me. Shame Wormy got ripped off, though.”
“No, it’s not,” the portrait character that was Sirius Black said jovially. “We’re much better off without.”
“So we’re supposed to learn how to become unregistered Animagus by talking to the portrait?” Al asked.
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Don’t you pay any attention to your dad when he talks? How is it that I know more about your family than you do?”
Al shrugged. “I dunno. Because you stalk me, I guess.”
Scorpius laughed. “You wish, Potter.”
“He has your vanity!” Sirius told James happily, and James shoved him playfully, his painted eyes glued to his grandson.
“Anyway, “ Scorpius said, “they’re all unregistered Animagus. So they can tell us how to do it.”
“Can we do that?” Al asked.
Remus’s portrait answered. “All three of us managed. You’ll be fine. We’ll coach you.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever get to pass on my shenanigans to an heir,” Sirius sniffed sentimentally.
“So we’re teaching you both, yeah?” The portrait James asked.
“Why do you need to learn?” Al asked, suddenly disgruntled.
“Why not?” Scorpius replied. “Might come in handy. Now,” he said, turning to the portrait, “what do we do?”
*****
Scorpius and Al both felt sheer, utter joy - they could send the message back and forth between them. In Scorpius, the joy was shown outwardly by the deep rumble vibrating from within his chest, and in Al it was shown by the frantic wagging of the double-tail he now sported.
“You’re purring,” Al thought, and he would have giggled had he been in human form.
Scorpius, a white kneazle, brushed up against the front of Al - who was a pure black Crup with startling green eyes.
‘This is fabulous. This is beyond fabulous. I never want to change back!’ Scorpius thought happily, the purring growing stronger.
‘We have to, though. We have some plans to take care of,’ Al thought, and changed back. He shuddered a little. “That’s gonna take some getting used to,” he admitted, as Scorpius changed back before his eyes.
“You need to practice being a dog,” Scorpius said. “If we’re going to pull off that you’re my faithful mutt.”
“Well we can practice on our trip to Knockturn Alley,” Albus said. “Now help me with my glamour charms and I’ll get my galleons.”
About half an hour later, the floor roared at the Leaky Cauldron. The bartender turned to watch as a tall, slender young man with messy brown hair and flat blue eyes stepped out of the fire, a rather large, black Crup on a leash beside him.
“’Ow long you ‘ad that feller for?” the bartender asked.
Scorpius, the now-brunette, looked down at Al. “You mean Albert, here? Only had him about a week, sir. Why?”
“You ain’t cut ‘is second tail yet, is all,” the bartender said. “It’s a law.”
“I’m on my way to do just that,” Scorpius said with a smile. “Good day to you, sir.”
Al wagged both tails and trotted along. ‘Everything smells incredible,’ he thought to Scorpius. ‘I just want to smell everything!’
“Next you’ll be chasing squirrels in the park,” Scorpius quipped as he made his way towards Knockturn Alley.
As they got closer, Al’s tagged ceased its wagging, and he felt small snarls forcing their way from his chest.
“Here now, what’s that growling about?” Scorpius asked, slightly alarmed.
‘I’m not sure. Doggy instincts, I guess,’ Al replied.
“We won’t be here long,” Scorpius promised. “And we’re only going to a jewelry store anyhow.”
The shopkeeper seemed shady, and Al couldn’t repress the quite growls.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
Scorpius smiled. “I’m in the works of wooing a girl in the most spectacular fashion,” he said. “I’d read about a jewel that could bring the wearer to their love with only a thought.”
The jeweler chuckled. “You can’t woo a girl that way. You gotta have a strong bond with her first.”
“We have the bond,” Scorpius said confidently, placing his bag of Galleons on the counter, in case that was the persuasion the shop keeper needed.
“So you’d like the girl to have the necklace?” The jeweler asked, eyeing the bag, thoroughly convinced.
“Yes. So it brings her to me. And I’d prefer,” with this, he nudged the bag again, a reminder that he demanded quality, “that it work over great distances to bring her right to me.”
“We’ll need a hair of yours,” the jeweler said. “Would you like to pick out the chain?”
Scorpius picked a thick silver chain, and Al wagged in approval.
“Alright,” The jeweler said as he jotted down the specific instructions for the necklace, “all you need to do is think the incantation. It’s an Italian phrase, meaning ‘always with you’.”
“Sempre con ti,” Scorpius said knowingly.
“It’ll be ready when we open tomorrow morning.” The jeweler pushed a receipt across the counter to Scorpius, who paid for it and pulled gently on Al’s leash, leading them away.
‘Lunch?’ Al thought happily, tail wagging.
‘Lunch,’ Scorpius confirmed, and led them back to Diagon Alley, away from sketchy Knockturn.
They sat outside of a small bistro, delighting in being outdoors in the sunlight, not cooped up in Grimmauld any longer. They buzzed with excitement, thrilled by their own daring. Scorpius loftily ordered for a meal to be placed on the ground for his dog. Al wagged his tails furiously.
“So,” Al thought, “when I transform into a Crup, my robes and clothes are suspended in space and time, right? Kept as they are? So if my wand is in my pocket, when I transform back it’ll still be there.”
“Correct,” Scorpius said.
'We’ll communicate silently and if you’re ever in danger I transform back and will be automatically invisible and can help you out.'
“That’s the plan,” Scorpius agreed, “once we get that far. We have a lot more to plan. We aren’t just going to arrive there and play it by ear.”
‘Of course not,’ Al scoffed. ‘That would be positively Gryffindor.’
Scorpius chuckled and quickly tried to cover it so he wouldn’t look insane, sitting alone and laughing at nothing. He reached for his water glass, but accidentally knocked it over. It shattered upon hitting the pavement, and Al yelped, jumping away.
“Shoot,” Scorpius muttered, pulling out his wand. “Reparo.”
The world exploded around them, the table flying into the air scattering their lunch behind it, dishes crashed down onto the pavement which pitched and rolled beneath them. Al lowered himself to the ground and tried to make out what was happening through the smoke.
Two burly men had Scorpius and Al lunged at them, teeth bared, but they Apparated away.
Al stood again, scanning the scene frantically. When the smoke cleared completely and it was certain that Scorpius was gone, Al turned tail - literally - and started running.
*****
Scorpius was tossed roughly to the ground in the middle of what looked like a classy lobby, complete with a pretty witch caring for the Floo. She paid no attention to the thugs or their young victim.
“Nice glamour, Malfoy,” one of the men sneered as the other disarmed Scorpius, pocketing the boy’s wand. “But your magical signature can’t be altered.”
“How’d you know my signature?” Scorpius panted, holding his side where he’d landed after the explosion.
“When Rhinehart wants someone, he gets them. It’s only a matter of time.”
‘Al,’ Scorpius thought frantically. ‘They’ve taken me to Rhinehart. Get me out of here!’
*****
Al flew into Knockturn Alley, pausing long enough to change back to his human form. Gasping for breath, he removed the leash and shook himself a little, still unused to the change to and from his animagius form. Once recovered, he ran into the jewelry shop.
The same little man looked at him over the counter suspiciously as Al panted and wheezed.
“That necklace,” he finally managed, leaning heavily on the counter. “The one Scorpius Malfoy just bought. I need it as soon as it’s done. The second it’s finished. Make it your top priority for the day.”
“Now, wait just a minute!” The man spluttered. “I can’t just -”
“Do you know who I am?” Al thundered, green eyes flashing, palms flat against the countertop. “I’m Albus Potter. Harry Potter’s son, do you comprehend that? I need that necklace done tonight at the latest, and I will be here to get it the second it’s done, do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mr Potter, sir,” the man cried, properly cowed.
“Good,” Al said. “Then you won’t mind me using your Floo to leave and return again later. After all, it’s not safe for me to be about the streets right now.”
He felt a slight twinge of guilt at using his father’s celebrity to gain favors, but he knew Scorpius’s life was worth it.
He Flooed back to Grimmauld to find Granny Weasley holding him at wandpoint.
“Granny, it’s me!” he cried, and she lowered her wand.
“Where were you?” she asked suspiciously.
“Can’t explain,” he said quickly. “I’ve got to owl Mum.”
He hurried to the library where the spare parchment was, and scratched out a frantic note - Rhinehart has Scorpius. Going now to try to get him out. Stay in close contact with HQ - we will need back-up. -ASP
He sent the owl with Fluffernut, begging her to fly quickly for once.
Then he sank onto the leather couch and lowered his face into his hands, breathing deeply. In the back of his mind, he heard Scorpius crying out to him, crying his name over and over and over. When Rose kneeled before him, taking his tear-streaked face into his hands, he told her everything.
And because Rose is smart, Rose told him exactly what to do.
*****
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but your husband’s taken a turn for the worse,” the Healer said with a concerned tone perfected over her years in this practice.
“Oh,” Ginny said, her breath escaping her for a moment. “Oh, no. No, don’t say that.”
“We’re doing everything we can to keep him stable,” the Healer informed her, “but he’s no longer lucid.”
“Please,” Ginny said, as if it weren’t the Healer’s job, as if the Healer were Death himself and could be begged off, “please keep him with us.”
“Ginny, I’m worried,” Angelina said, face grave. “If Harry’s getting worse this quickly, it means Rhinehart just gained a great lot of power.”
Just then, one of the nurses came up to Ginny holding a piece of parchment. “This just flew in addressed to you, Ma’am,” the nurse said, handing it to Ginny.
“Oh, sweet Merlin,” Ginny breathed, tears springing to her eyes as she read the note. “He has just gained a great lot of power. He’s got Scorpius Malfoy. And Al’s going after him.” She met Angelina’s horrified gaze.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Rhinehart’s two thugs were laughing as Scorpius Malfoy writhed on the floor beneath their wands, voice already gone from the past hour of screaming. Still, his mind called for Albus, who steadfastly did not answer.
*****
“I can’t take this,” Al cried, pulling at his hair. “I can’t listen to him beg for me to save him. He needs me to answer, Rose, it’ll keep him from giving in!”
“He’s got to give in, Al!” Rose told him, for the tenth time. “I’ve explained this. When they’re done playing with him, they’re going to interrogate him. I’m positive they’ll use Veritaserum. I know it hurts you to hurt him, but if he thinks you’ve deserted him, he’ll be angry at you. When he’s questioned, he’ll be sure to say he’s no longer in league with you. Scorpius is smart. Once he’s not relying on you to jump in and rescue him - because you can’t yet - he’ll find a way to keep himself alive. Isn’t that a big deal for Slytherins?”
“Self-preservation? I’m pretty sure that’s any living being,” Al muttered, feeling his heart twist.
“Just don’t let him hear you,” Rose said.
“He won’t. He’s too far away. I can hear him because he’s trying to reach me. I’m sure he’s listening for me, too, but if I don’t specifically mean for it to reach him, then he won’t hear anything. In closer proximity we can’t pick and choose that way, but over the months we’ve got this thing figured out.”
“I wonder how it happened,” Rose mused.
Al grimaced as Scorpius cried out especially loud in his mind.
“I know how hard this is,” Rose said.
“No you don’t,” Al answered. “You can’t hear him. He’s just… Merlin, you’d better be right.”
“I will be,” Rose said. “Really, Al. It’s the only way.”
After a few minutes of silence, she asked, “Do you really think either of you can kill Rhinehart?”
“We have to,” Al answered evenly.
“That’s not my question. My question is can you. Because honestly, I don’t think either of you can point a wand at that man’s face and kill him. No matter what the stakes.”
“We don’t have a choice, Rose,” Al growled.
“Maybe you do, that’s all I’m saying,” she said loftily.
Al looked at her darkly. “I’m not in the mood for games, Rose. If you’ve got something up your sleeve, then just tell me.”
“There’s a spell,” she said quickly, to diffuse his temper. “I found it in one of the Dark Arts books in the Black library. They originally used it on evil or dangerous wizards, but then more people learned it and started using it on anyone who pissed them off. It’s been illegal since Merlin’s time, because so many wizards have wrongly used it. There are theories even -.”
“Tell me about the theories later, Rose. What’s the spell?”
“It’s a curse. Aufero veneficus. It’s really horrible, Al - it completely strips the person of their magic. It makes them a muggle. Not even a Squib - Squibs can still interact with magic and magical places and things. This curse makes the person entirely muggle.”
“Aufero veneficus?” Al repeated.
“It goes along with a figure eight wand movement,” Rose coached. “It takes a lot of power.”
“Shit,” Al said, putting his head in his hands. “I won’t be able to do it.”
“It’s worth knowing,” Rose said. “There are theories that there were only witches and wizards in the beginning, and the muggle race started because of this curse. This is also how they explain muggle-borns - somewhere, maybe hundreds of generations back, there was a wizard or witch who was stripped of their magic like this and the remnants are coming up centuries later.”
“Aufero veneficus,” Al murmured to himself, tuning her out.
*****
They tossed Scorpius into a hard metal chair across the table from Keith Rhinehart, who smirked at him.
“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Rhinehart asked. “I always get what I want.”
Scorpius could barely keep himself upright in the chair, and simply looked at Rhinehart under heavy eyelids.
Rhinehart let a smile creep across his face. “I hope my friends didn’t do you too badly,” he said, voice full of fake cheer. “Do you still know who you are? Can you tell me your name?”
Scorpius licked his lips, pried his jaw open, but found he had no voice.
Rhinehart tsked. “Dahl, get Mr Malfoy some tea, would you? How many sugars, Malfoy?”
Scorpius could only glare.
“Right,” Rhinehart said pleasantly. “No sugar, but do add the Veritaserum.” He looked straight at Scorpius, looking him straight in the eyes. “Drink it all,” he intoned, “or you won’t live to see morning. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Scorpius managed to croak. ‘Al, what the fuck are you playing at? I need help, where the fuck are you? Why’d aren’t you answering me? Don’t you care?’
When no answer came, Scorpius steeled himself and drank the tea placed before him. Rhinehart began the interrogation, his voice chipper, whereas the answers were torn from Scorpius’s mouth without his permission, each word flat.
“State your name, please.”
“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.”
“And your parents are?”
“Draco and Astoria Malfoy.”
“Where have you been this whole time?”
“In hiding, outside of London.”
“Why did you refuse to join my rankings?”
“I don’t wish to fight.”
“And if you so desperately wanted to stay out of the fray, why did you leave your hidey-hole in broad daylight?”
“I was with Albus Potter,” Scorpius said, and Rhinehart leaned forward. “We were plotting to overthrow you.”
Rhinehart laughed, loud and long, his two cronies joining in. “You? A child? A Malfoy? Best me? Even with the help of a Potter, that’d be a mean feat. Half of Wizarding Britain couldn’t do it.” When he stopped laughing, he narrowed his eyes. “Where is Albus Potter now?”
“I don’t know,” Scorpius said. “Gone. He left me to die at your hands. He won’t be coming back. The plan is off.” Every fiber of Scorpius’s being cried out at these words, the fact that in his mind they were true enough to count with the Veritaserum.
“You’ll be fighting for me now, Malfoy. Will you do as I tell you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why is that, Malfoy?”
Scorpius met Rhinehart’s eyes and for the first time his answer seemed to be more than mechanical reaction. “I want to survive,” he said, “and I’ll do whatever I need to do.”
They tossed him into a small, cement cell with no window, not even a bunk. On the floor, Scorpius curled into himself and cried. His whole body was alight with pain, but those pains were all muted by what he felt in his heart.
‘Al,’ he thought, ‘I’m scared. I’m scared. Why did you leave me?’
Author: Kimberry531/Clandestinelle (same person)
Rating: R
Pairing: Al/Scorpius
Word Count: 52,207 total; ~5k this chapter.
Summary: In the middle of his quest to find and master the Elder Wand which his father didn’t want, Al finds his family in the midst of a second Wizarding war. While in hiding, Al finds himself struggling to fight against feelings for one of the other refugees - blonde, sweet, innocent Scorpius Malfoy. However, when the war takes a turn for the worse, Al finds that he suddenly has bigger problems than his heart, and the two must embark on a frightening adventure fit only for Gryffindor idiots.
Notes: This fic is COMPLETE and will be updated every Monday and every Friday.
Dedication: Rosa, Slashfiend337, for getting me out of my two-month pit of despair of the last chapter and setting it straight within thirty minutes. Owe her my soul. And this fic.
“On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous
Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout
Parais qu'le bonheur est à portée de main,
Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou
I’m told that fate makes fun of us,
That it gives us nothing and promises everything,
When happiness seems to be within our grasp,
We reach out and find ourselves like fools”
- Carla Bruni
It was as if they had never even fought, despite the visible proof that Scorpius still refused to heal magically. It was as if all of their feelings and doubts and grudges had simply evaporated with this sudden change. They were going to risk their lives and possibly end the war, and it put everything into a perspective that made their life at Grimmauld seem small and petty.
“Our ultimate goal is to stun or disarm Rhinehart,” Al said. The two of them were at a table in the library, talking in hushed tones. They had kept their mission a secret. Too many wizards spoil the potion, Granny Weasley had always said, and Slytherins liked to keep their plotting amongst snakes. “And then whichever of us did it is the Master, and can just kill everyone who gets in the way of us killing Rhinehart.”
Scorpius squirmed. “I’d feel better if it were you, to tell the truth.”
Al squinted at him. “Seriously? But it’s the Unbeatable Wand.”
Scorpius bit his lip. “I know,” he said. “But there are things I’d rather have in life. You can be unbeatable. I’ll make my own way.”
Al nodded. “Then if you defeat Rhinehart, I’ll just make it somehow pass to me. So we need to find his camp and somehow to get to him. If the entire Order of the Phoenix took months to find his camp, how will we find it?”
Scorpius sent Al a sly sideways look. “I kind of already figured that part out.”
Al leveled him with a look. “Do tell, mastermind.”
“Well,” Scorpius said, “Rhinehart wants me really badly. I figure all I’ve got to do is walk somewhere in broad daylight and his men would have me at his feet. But if somehow you could be with me under your Invisibility Cloak, then you could back me up. I could convince Rhinehart I’d just been waiting to get out from under my father’s watch, and that I wanted to be on his side all along. I could stay however long it took to convince him that I was loyal. We could communicate silently, and you could always watch my back.”
“What if he never trusted you that much?” Al asked, but it was clear by his tone that he was impressed with how much Scorpius had worked out.
“Then at least we’d be in the camp. I mean, once we’re there we can work things out.”
“Okay,” Al said slowly, thinking hard. “So you’re in the camp. You can play the part and relay information to me and I can watch your back. But what about me? I can’t just wander onto camp under my cloak and take food, or huddle in an unused sleeping bag. There’s no way I’d go unnoticed.”
Scorpius got a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I had an idea about that, too.”
Al grinned. “You’re full of ‘em tonight. Alright, let’s hear it.”
“We could become unregistered Animagus,” Scorpius said excitedly.
“How would we do that?” Al asked flatly. “We don’t even have anyone to teach us.”
Scorpius grinned. “Sure we do. I meant to show you a long time ago, but then we started fighting. Come on!”
He led Al to a staircase at the end of the hallway, which led up to a nicely furnished room. It was well lit from large windows and had a giant four-poster bed.
“I guess this is the room they made for Teddy, since your dad wants him to have the house,” Scorpius said. “I don’t think he’s used it much, but it has a very personal touch - look.”
He pointed up at the wall across from the four-poster bed. Taking up a good amount of the wall was a painting of three young men. In the middle was a black-haired young man who looked just like Al’s dad except with brown eyes. To his left with an arm slung around the Potter’s shoulders was a tall, thin young man with black hair and a mischievous grin. Al thought he saw an awful lot of Scorpius in that grin. To this man’s left was a shorter boy with sandy hair, who looked abashed. Al did a double-take - on first glance, he had thought the boy was Teddy. There seemed to have once been more to the painting, but it was crudely cut down the right side, leaving a panel empty. None of the boys in the painting seemed to have any qualms with this.
“Who are they?” Al asked.
“Lookit that, James,” the boy in the middle said. “A Black and a Potter, just like old times.”
“I’m not a Black,” Scorpius said.
“Your Grammy is, if you’re who I think you are,” the portrait replied. “Malfoy is all over your face. And Narcissa Malfoy was a Black.”
“He’s right,” Al said. “I noticed right away that he reminded me of you. Is the one on the right… is that my grandfather? It is, right? I’ve only seen pictures.”
“Yeah,” Scorpius said. “The Black calls him James, and that’s your grandfather’s name, right?”
“The one on the left,” Al said, stepping closer. “He looks just like Teddy.”
“Teddy was my son,” the portrait told him. “This is where he stays when he’s here. Harry gave him the portrait so he’d have this piece of me. Shame Wormy got ripped off, though.”
“No, it’s not,” the portrait character that was Sirius Black said jovially. “We’re much better off without.”
“So we’re supposed to learn how to become unregistered Animagus by talking to the portrait?” Al asked.
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Don’t you pay any attention to your dad when he talks? How is it that I know more about your family than you do?”
Al shrugged. “I dunno. Because you stalk me, I guess.”
Scorpius laughed. “You wish, Potter.”
“He has your vanity!” Sirius told James happily, and James shoved him playfully, his painted eyes glued to his grandson.
“Anyway, “ Scorpius said, “they’re all unregistered Animagus. So they can tell us how to do it.”
“Can we do that?” Al asked.
Remus’s portrait answered. “All three of us managed. You’ll be fine. We’ll coach you.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever get to pass on my shenanigans to an heir,” Sirius sniffed sentimentally.
“So we’re teaching you both, yeah?” The portrait James asked.
“Why do you need to learn?” Al asked, suddenly disgruntled.
“Why not?” Scorpius replied. “Might come in handy. Now,” he said, turning to the portrait, “what do we do?”
*****
Scorpius and Al both felt sheer, utter joy - they could send the message back and forth between them. In Scorpius, the joy was shown outwardly by the deep rumble vibrating from within his chest, and in Al it was shown by the frantic wagging of the double-tail he now sported.
“You’re purring,” Al thought, and he would have giggled had he been in human form.
Scorpius, a white kneazle, brushed up against the front of Al - who was a pure black Crup with startling green eyes.
‘This is fabulous. This is beyond fabulous. I never want to change back!’ Scorpius thought happily, the purring growing stronger.
‘We have to, though. We have some plans to take care of,’ Al thought, and changed back. He shuddered a little. “That’s gonna take some getting used to,” he admitted, as Scorpius changed back before his eyes.
“You need to practice being a dog,” Scorpius said. “If we’re going to pull off that you’re my faithful mutt.”
“Well we can practice on our trip to Knockturn Alley,” Albus said. “Now help me with my glamour charms and I’ll get my galleons.”
About half an hour later, the floor roared at the Leaky Cauldron. The bartender turned to watch as a tall, slender young man with messy brown hair and flat blue eyes stepped out of the fire, a rather large, black Crup on a leash beside him.
“’Ow long you ‘ad that feller for?” the bartender asked.
Scorpius, the now-brunette, looked down at Al. “You mean Albert, here? Only had him about a week, sir. Why?”
“You ain’t cut ‘is second tail yet, is all,” the bartender said. “It’s a law.”
“I’m on my way to do just that,” Scorpius said with a smile. “Good day to you, sir.”
Al wagged both tails and trotted along. ‘Everything smells incredible,’ he thought to Scorpius. ‘I just want to smell everything!’
“Next you’ll be chasing squirrels in the park,” Scorpius quipped as he made his way towards Knockturn Alley.
As they got closer, Al’s tagged ceased its wagging, and he felt small snarls forcing their way from his chest.
“Here now, what’s that growling about?” Scorpius asked, slightly alarmed.
‘I’m not sure. Doggy instincts, I guess,’ Al replied.
“We won’t be here long,” Scorpius promised. “And we’re only going to a jewelry store anyhow.”
The shopkeeper seemed shady, and Al couldn’t repress the quite growls.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
Scorpius smiled. “I’m in the works of wooing a girl in the most spectacular fashion,” he said. “I’d read about a jewel that could bring the wearer to their love with only a thought.”
The jeweler chuckled. “You can’t woo a girl that way. You gotta have a strong bond with her first.”
“We have the bond,” Scorpius said confidently, placing his bag of Galleons on the counter, in case that was the persuasion the shop keeper needed.
“So you’d like the girl to have the necklace?” The jeweler asked, eyeing the bag, thoroughly convinced.
“Yes. So it brings her to me. And I’d prefer,” with this, he nudged the bag again, a reminder that he demanded quality, “that it work over great distances to bring her right to me.”
“We’ll need a hair of yours,” the jeweler said. “Would you like to pick out the chain?”
Scorpius picked a thick silver chain, and Al wagged in approval.
“Alright,” The jeweler said as he jotted down the specific instructions for the necklace, “all you need to do is think the incantation. It’s an Italian phrase, meaning ‘always with you’.”
“Sempre con ti,” Scorpius said knowingly.
“It’ll be ready when we open tomorrow morning.” The jeweler pushed a receipt across the counter to Scorpius, who paid for it and pulled gently on Al’s leash, leading them away.
‘Lunch?’ Al thought happily, tail wagging.
‘Lunch,’ Scorpius confirmed, and led them back to Diagon Alley, away from sketchy Knockturn.
They sat outside of a small bistro, delighting in being outdoors in the sunlight, not cooped up in Grimmauld any longer. They buzzed with excitement, thrilled by their own daring. Scorpius loftily ordered for a meal to be placed on the ground for his dog. Al wagged his tails furiously.
“So,” Al thought, “when I transform into a Crup, my robes and clothes are suspended in space and time, right? Kept as they are? So if my wand is in my pocket, when I transform back it’ll still be there.”
“Correct,” Scorpius said.
'We’ll communicate silently and if you’re ever in danger I transform back and will be automatically invisible and can help you out.'
“That’s the plan,” Scorpius agreed, “once we get that far. We have a lot more to plan. We aren’t just going to arrive there and play it by ear.”
‘Of course not,’ Al scoffed. ‘That would be positively Gryffindor.’
Scorpius chuckled and quickly tried to cover it so he wouldn’t look insane, sitting alone and laughing at nothing. He reached for his water glass, but accidentally knocked it over. It shattered upon hitting the pavement, and Al yelped, jumping away.
“Shoot,” Scorpius muttered, pulling out his wand. “Reparo.”
The world exploded around them, the table flying into the air scattering their lunch behind it, dishes crashed down onto the pavement which pitched and rolled beneath them. Al lowered himself to the ground and tried to make out what was happening through the smoke.
Two burly men had Scorpius and Al lunged at them, teeth bared, but they Apparated away.
Al stood again, scanning the scene frantically. When the smoke cleared completely and it was certain that Scorpius was gone, Al turned tail - literally - and started running.
*****
Scorpius was tossed roughly to the ground in the middle of what looked like a classy lobby, complete with a pretty witch caring for the Floo. She paid no attention to the thugs or their young victim.
“Nice glamour, Malfoy,” one of the men sneered as the other disarmed Scorpius, pocketing the boy’s wand. “But your magical signature can’t be altered.”
“How’d you know my signature?” Scorpius panted, holding his side where he’d landed after the explosion.
“When Rhinehart wants someone, he gets them. It’s only a matter of time.”
‘Al,’ Scorpius thought frantically. ‘They’ve taken me to Rhinehart. Get me out of here!’
*****
Al flew into Knockturn Alley, pausing long enough to change back to his human form. Gasping for breath, he removed the leash and shook himself a little, still unused to the change to and from his animagius form. Once recovered, he ran into the jewelry shop.
The same little man looked at him over the counter suspiciously as Al panted and wheezed.
“That necklace,” he finally managed, leaning heavily on the counter. “The one Scorpius Malfoy just bought. I need it as soon as it’s done. The second it’s finished. Make it your top priority for the day.”
“Now, wait just a minute!” The man spluttered. “I can’t just -”
“Do you know who I am?” Al thundered, green eyes flashing, palms flat against the countertop. “I’m Albus Potter. Harry Potter’s son, do you comprehend that? I need that necklace done tonight at the latest, and I will be here to get it the second it’s done, do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mr Potter, sir,” the man cried, properly cowed.
“Good,” Al said. “Then you won’t mind me using your Floo to leave and return again later. After all, it’s not safe for me to be about the streets right now.”
He felt a slight twinge of guilt at using his father’s celebrity to gain favors, but he knew Scorpius’s life was worth it.
He Flooed back to Grimmauld to find Granny Weasley holding him at wandpoint.
“Granny, it’s me!” he cried, and she lowered her wand.
“Where were you?” she asked suspiciously.
“Can’t explain,” he said quickly. “I’ve got to owl Mum.”
He hurried to the library where the spare parchment was, and scratched out a frantic note - Rhinehart has Scorpius. Going now to try to get him out. Stay in close contact with HQ - we will need back-up. -ASP
He sent the owl with Fluffernut, begging her to fly quickly for once.
Then he sank onto the leather couch and lowered his face into his hands, breathing deeply. In the back of his mind, he heard Scorpius crying out to him, crying his name over and over and over. When Rose kneeled before him, taking his tear-streaked face into his hands, he told her everything.
And because Rose is smart, Rose told him exactly what to do.
*****
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but your husband’s taken a turn for the worse,” the Healer said with a concerned tone perfected over her years in this practice.
“Oh,” Ginny said, her breath escaping her for a moment. “Oh, no. No, don’t say that.”
“We’re doing everything we can to keep him stable,” the Healer informed her, “but he’s no longer lucid.”
“Please,” Ginny said, as if it weren’t the Healer’s job, as if the Healer were Death himself and could be begged off, “please keep him with us.”
“Ginny, I’m worried,” Angelina said, face grave. “If Harry’s getting worse this quickly, it means Rhinehart just gained a great lot of power.”
Just then, one of the nurses came up to Ginny holding a piece of parchment. “This just flew in addressed to you, Ma’am,” the nurse said, handing it to Ginny.
“Oh, sweet Merlin,” Ginny breathed, tears springing to her eyes as she read the note. “He has just gained a great lot of power. He’s got Scorpius Malfoy. And Al’s going after him.” She met Angelina’s horrified gaze.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Rhinehart’s two thugs were laughing as Scorpius Malfoy writhed on the floor beneath their wands, voice already gone from the past hour of screaming. Still, his mind called for Albus, who steadfastly did not answer.
*****
“I can’t take this,” Al cried, pulling at his hair. “I can’t listen to him beg for me to save him. He needs me to answer, Rose, it’ll keep him from giving in!”
“He’s got to give in, Al!” Rose told him, for the tenth time. “I’ve explained this. When they’re done playing with him, they’re going to interrogate him. I’m positive they’ll use Veritaserum. I know it hurts you to hurt him, but if he thinks you’ve deserted him, he’ll be angry at you. When he’s questioned, he’ll be sure to say he’s no longer in league with you. Scorpius is smart. Once he’s not relying on you to jump in and rescue him - because you can’t yet - he’ll find a way to keep himself alive. Isn’t that a big deal for Slytherins?”
“Self-preservation? I’m pretty sure that’s any living being,” Al muttered, feeling his heart twist.
“Just don’t let him hear you,” Rose said.
“He won’t. He’s too far away. I can hear him because he’s trying to reach me. I’m sure he’s listening for me, too, but if I don’t specifically mean for it to reach him, then he won’t hear anything. In closer proximity we can’t pick and choose that way, but over the months we’ve got this thing figured out.”
“I wonder how it happened,” Rose mused.
Al grimaced as Scorpius cried out especially loud in his mind.
“I know how hard this is,” Rose said.
“No you don’t,” Al answered. “You can’t hear him. He’s just… Merlin, you’d better be right.”
“I will be,” Rose said. “Really, Al. It’s the only way.”
After a few minutes of silence, she asked, “Do you really think either of you can kill Rhinehart?”
“We have to,” Al answered evenly.
“That’s not my question. My question is can you. Because honestly, I don’t think either of you can point a wand at that man’s face and kill him. No matter what the stakes.”
“We don’t have a choice, Rose,” Al growled.
“Maybe you do, that’s all I’m saying,” she said loftily.
Al looked at her darkly. “I’m not in the mood for games, Rose. If you’ve got something up your sleeve, then just tell me.”
“There’s a spell,” she said quickly, to diffuse his temper. “I found it in one of the Dark Arts books in the Black library. They originally used it on evil or dangerous wizards, but then more people learned it and started using it on anyone who pissed them off. It’s been illegal since Merlin’s time, because so many wizards have wrongly used it. There are theories even -.”
“Tell me about the theories later, Rose. What’s the spell?”
“It’s a curse. Aufero veneficus. It’s really horrible, Al - it completely strips the person of their magic. It makes them a muggle. Not even a Squib - Squibs can still interact with magic and magical places and things. This curse makes the person entirely muggle.”
“Aufero veneficus?” Al repeated.
“It goes along with a figure eight wand movement,” Rose coached. “It takes a lot of power.”
“Shit,” Al said, putting his head in his hands. “I won’t be able to do it.”
“It’s worth knowing,” Rose said. “There are theories that there were only witches and wizards in the beginning, and the muggle race started because of this curse. This is also how they explain muggle-borns - somewhere, maybe hundreds of generations back, there was a wizard or witch who was stripped of their magic like this and the remnants are coming up centuries later.”
“Aufero veneficus,” Al murmured to himself, tuning her out.
*****
They tossed Scorpius into a hard metal chair across the table from Keith Rhinehart, who smirked at him.
“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Rhinehart asked. “I always get what I want.”
Scorpius could barely keep himself upright in the chair, and simply looked at Rhinehart under heavy eyelids.
Rhinehart let a smile creep across his face. “I hope my friends didn’t do you too badly,” he said, voice full of fake cheer. “Do you still know who you are? Can you tell me your name?”
Scorpius licked his lips, pried his jaw open, but found he had no voice.
Rhinehart tsked. “Dahl, get Mr Malfoy some tea, would you? How many sugars, Malfoy?”
Scorpius could only glare.
“Right,” Rhinehart said pleasantly. “No sugar, but do add the Veritaserum.” He looked straight at Scorpius, looking him straight in the eyes. “Drink it all,” he intoned, “or you won’t live to see morning. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Scorpius managed to croak. ‘Al, what the fuck are you playing at? I need help, where the fuck are you? Why’d aren’t you answering me? Don’t you care?’
When no answer came, Scorpius steeled himself and drank the tea placed before him. Rhinehart began the interrogation, his voice chipper, whereas the answers were torn from Scorpius’s mouth without his permission, each word flat.
“State your name, please.”
“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.”
“And your parents are?”
“Draco and Astoria Malfoy.”
“Where have you been this whole time?”
“In hiding, outside of London.”
“Why did you refuse to join my rankings?”
“I don’t wish to fight.”
“And if you so desperately wanted to stay out of the fray, why did you leave your hidey-hole in broad daylight?”
“I was with Albus Potter,” Scorpius said, and Rhinehart leaned forward. “We were plotting to overthrow you.”
Rhinehart laughed, loud and long, his two cronies joining in. “You? A child? A Malfoy? Best me? Even with the help of a Potter, that’d be a mean feat. Half of Wizarding Britain couldn’t do it.” When he stopped laughing, he narrowed his eyes. “Where is Albus Potter now?”
“I don’t know,” Scorpius said. “Gone. He left me to die at your hands. He won’t be coming back. The plan is off.” Every fiber of Scorpius’s being cried out at these words, the fact that in his mind they were true enough to count with the Veritaserum.
“You’ll be fighting for me now, Malfoy. Will you do as I tell you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why is that, Malfoy?”
Scorpius met Rhinehart’s eyes and for the first time his answer seemed to be more than mechanical reaction. “I want to survive,” he said, “and I’ll do whatever I need to do.”
They tossed him into a small, cement cell with no window, not even a bunk. On the floor, Scorpius curled into himself and cried. His whole body was alight with pain, but those pains were all muted by what he felt in his heart.
‘Al,’ he thought, ‘I’m scared. I’m scared. Why did you leave me?’