Losing Harry Chapter 25
Story: Losing Harry
Chapter: Twenty-Five
Word Count: 3,921 (chapter only)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mild language; occasional and/or eventual mild violence, strong language and scenes of a sexual nature
Characters: Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Albus, Scorpius, Lorcan, Lysander, James, Lily, etc.
Genre: Mystery, Drama, Romance
Summary: A wizard has disappeared, and the Ministry is refusing to investigate; Albus Potter is in the Hogwarts Infirmary, and Ginny and Hermione are arguing over Harry's peculiar behavior. All is not as it should be. HPDH+Epilogue compliant.
Notes: Written in British English. Huge thanks for cymonie for being my awesome beta! Another huge thanks to Lilau for her French-beta-ing!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |
--
Paris had not been the most wonderful of destinations for Albus and Scorpius. It wasn’t that Al didn’t like the city - in fact he was quite enamoured by Le Passage Insaisissable, which was something of an arcade like he’d seen before in London, with its tall glass roofs overhead, covering the whole length of the road. Le Passage Insaisissable was the bustling centre of Wizarding Paris, possibly even larger in size than Diagon Alley. No, what bothered Albus about being there was the way he felt stuck in Paris until their friends could come through with information to take them to their next location. Besides, Paris was expensive, and if they had to stay much longer, Albus thought they’d have to go back to camping again.
In fact, finding a place to stay had been difficult enough, as it seemed every inn, hotel, and hostel required some kind of identification forms - whether magical or Muggle. They finally found a place which let them stay, no questions asked. Unfortunately, the privacy was paid for with the poor location. The small inn they found was on a back alley of the Passage with no lighting, shouts heard from outside, and one night even a loud Bang! that Albus insisted to Scorpius was the sound of a Muggle weapon.
Though the Muggle world stayed oblivious to the happenings inside Le Passage Insaisissable, their back alley inn, just across the way to a place the Muggles had named “Moulin Rouge,” was privy to all the magical and Muggle misdeeds of the night. Albus slept with his pillow over his head.
Owls had been coming to them so frequently that week, however, that it was very fortunate they had decided to stay in Wizarding Paris. He hoped the many owls would be assumed to be delivering messages to various wizards in the area, rather than the two curious English wizard boys skirting the outer edges of the Passage in dusk as they avoided making eye contact with anyone.
On that particular afternoon the second week of their stay in Paris, Al received a letter from Lysander Scamander. The owl had flown in through an open window in the wizarding library in Le Passage Insaisissable where Al and Scorpius were again reading though the vast collection of books there (luckily with large sections in English), trying to obtain new information on the signature signs of old that wizards had once used.
Hey Albus,
Your sister tried to punch me out yesterday when I told her to mind her own business. She must have learned from you and James. Naturally, Lorcan tried to reassure her in his own special way, but I made sure there was no funny business! Then Rose came and took her back to the Gryffindors. Speaking of funny business, Adele is asking about you. Well - who isn’t, really? That’s the better question. Anyway, enclosed is the information you asked for. We used some anti-tampering spells in case anyone is ‘listening in.’ Hope it works.
Albus read the note aloud and then handed it off to Scorpius, who was frowning about something in the missive. Al wondered if he was concerned about eavesdroppers. Scorpius set the letter aside, however, and flipped through the attached pieces of parchment, his eyes scanning quickly back and forth while Al watched.
“Great Merlin!” Scorpius said suddenly. “Look at this!”
Albus obeyed and slid over to a chair next to Scorpius, in whose hand was a page the twins must have torn from an old book in the Hogwarts library. “What is it?” Al asked.
He glanced at the photo on the piece of parchment and began to read the article. It was an essay on the use of wizard call signs, including how they first came into existence and when they were phased out. There had once been a Russian gang of wizards who had left a bear’s claw at every crime scene where they’d had involvement. Some cases even as far as Argentina had discovered bear claws, proving that the gang had hands on nearly every continent. The claws, no matter how far away they were found, always belonged to a particular Russian breed of bear.
“Well, we already found some mentions of this sort of thing.” Al frowned, talking over Scorpius’s shoulder.
“Read on,” Scorpius urged. Albus did so. The article went on to discuss the present day pureblood families and the call signs each family was said to be linked to.
“Apparently, every pureblood family alive today can be traced back to an old call sign,” Scorpius said.
“Even yours and mine,” Albus responded as it occurred to him. He knew his father was only a half-blood, but the Potters and Weasleys were both purebloods and each must have had their own sign at one time. He wondered if the signs changed when two families merged.
“Maybe that’s why this wizard might be linked to a bird that was bred in both Italy and France - maybe the wizard came from a family that has roots in both French and Italian wizard ancestry,” Albus surmised.
“Very possible.” Scorpius nodded. Then suddenly, “Blimey! Look there!” Scorpius pointed at one of the last paragraphs on the page. “I’ve been such a berk!”
The paragraph discussed how present day occurrences of wizard call signs would normally be found disguised in plain sight, often becoming ornamental or otherwise displayed as common knickknacks, souvenirs, or old keepsakes.
“What do you mean?” Albus asked Scorpius, sitting back in his seat and turning more toward his friend.
“Remember the feather attached to your broom?” Scorpius asked. Albus nodded.
“I’ve seen one like it before,” Scorpius confessed.
“What? Where?” Al demanded.
“I didn’t think anything of it, at the time. Like the article said, I thought it was some sentimental knickknack my mum was keeping. On the mantle in our home is an old quill - it looks like an antique. But attached to it are a bunch of frilly feathers. Nothing I’d ever be caught dead using. But one of the feathers in the lot - it’s darker. It looks like your feather,” Scorpius said, and by the end it came out apologetic.
“What?” Al said, still having trouble fathoming that a clue had been there all along.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t remember it!” Scorpius continued.
“So your mum is somehow attached to the accident with my broom?” Albus asked uncertainly, frowning.
“No, that’s the thing, the quill wasn’t always there,” Scorpius said. “In fact, I don’t remember seeing it until…until this past summer.”
“Criminy, Scorpius! Your dad disappeared, there was some attack in your home, and you didn’t wonder what the queer quill was doing there?” Al asked, voice raising enough so that the two boys received a hard look from a nearby librarian.
“I…well, I wasn’t home when it all happened, was I?” Scorpius retorted. “How was I to know where Mum had got the quill from? It was just some old rubbish she had dug up to replace the clock that the Ministry had confiscated.”
Scorpius looked displeased and Albus tried to ease up. He was attacking his friend and it wasn’t reasonable.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Al said quietly. “But where were you when it all happened?” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t asked before, and suddenly felt like a git for not having been a better friend.
“I was at my grandparents’ house. I always stay with them for a time in the summers,” Scorpius said. “When we found out Father was missing and there was evidence of something gone off in the house - well, Mum wanted me to stay put at my grandparents’.”
Al nodded, glancing again at the article that the twins had sent them, and thinking over what Scorpius had said regarding the feather in the quill.
“So, around the time that your dad disappeared, somehow the same kind of feather that came with my broom also ended up on your sitting room mantle. Any idea where your mum got it from?”
Scorpius shook his head slowly. “I only know that Mum referred to it as a gift from someone. Said it reminded her of an old friend.”
Al narrowed his gaze. Some old friend of Scorpius’s mum had apparently thought it a good idea to try and kill Albus. He didn’t like it.
“So what do we do now?” Al asked, stumped.
“Well, we still need the information from Rose. I do wish she’d hurry up already. We need to find someone with ties to your father, my father, my mother, Italy, France, and the strange feather. At least we’re narrowing the options down,” Scorpius said. Al nodded, sitting back in his chair and gazing at the many books they had spread over their table.
“We need to find a register or a list of all the call signs ever used and try to trace them through the families,” Albus added.
They got to work trying to do just that, but it seemed that every book they found contained only a partial list, so that they were constantly having to copy everything down manually and devise their own list of ancient families that had once been associated with certain kinds of symbols.
Later that afternoon, a short message arrived from Lorcan, whose only statement for the day had been: “Blimey, your aunt is scary!”
Albus knew it had to be his aunt Hermione, and wondered what she had done to his friends.
“Questioned them, I imagine,” Scorpius whispered over the book he was scanning. Al thought he was probably right, and hoped their friends had been able to stand the test that was Aunt Hermione.
Earlier in the week, Albus had struggled over one particular owl he’d received. Though James never wrote him, Al’s little sister did. She had reminded him of his promise to always be just on the other side of the Great Hall. He wasn’t there now. He wasn’t there for his little sister. But they weren’t children anymore and this was important. Hogwarts would take care of Lily, and he would write and ask Lorcan and Lysander to look after her, even if it seemed she was handling herself well enough when it come to those two.
The most encouraging letter came later in the evening over supper while Albus and Scorpius shared the plat du jour - one of the few items on a menu that Scorpius could order for them. Unfortunately, it often meant that Al never knew if he was eating meat, fish, or chicken, nor had he any clue what, exactly, was in the sauce poured on top. Additionally, they had reduced their meals to shared food every day, realising they would run out of money too fast if they didn’t find cheaper ways to feed themselves.
“Look, it’s another one,” Scorpius said as he held his fork halfway to his mouth. He nodded into the air as a large owl came swooping for their table, deposited its letter, and took off again.
“You’re like a celebrity with so many people writing you,” Scorpius laughed, noticing the letter had Al’s name on it again. Scorpius’s mother wrote him, but aside from her letters, the mail was always addressed to either Albus, or to the both of them.
Albus set his own fork down and reached for the letter, setting aside a second folded and sealed piece of parchment, and starting with the letter first.
Cousin Al,
Hey, it’s Rose. I’ve got what you wanted. I decided to copy the list down rather than sending you the book. You should know we’re not allowed to take books from the library outside of Hogwarts. Anyway, I decided to copy down not only our fathers’ year from Hogwarts, but also the list of student names from the years before and after. It might prove helpful if you’re looking for someone your dad knew while at school. You should also know that I’ve twisted Lorcan’s arm until he’s promise to update me every time he hears from you. I know those boys are up to something, and it’s probably something you’ve asked them to do. Just please be safe and come home soon. And find your dad, of course.
Love from,
Rose W.
After reading the letter aloud, Al set the note down and reached for the second attached one. Scorpius had had the same idea and reached for it too. Rather than gripping the pages, Al felt his fingers land on soft skin where Scorpius’s hand had been a second faster. Albus retracted his hand, giving Scorpius the chance to read the copied list of students first. Scorpius, though, paused for a moment, his hand on the parchment, his eyes closed, taking a deep breath. Albus watched him as his friend slowly pulled the paper toward himself and opened it up. His eyes moved across the page.
Albus waited for Scorpius to consume the information and give his first guess as to where they should start next, based on the list of names. He hoped some name would jump out at them - perhaps from something they had read on the old wizarding signatures. Al took a bite of their curious dinner and thought back to the research they’d done that day, and the interruption of owls, to his friends and relatives back at Hogwarts.
Part of him really missed Hogwarts. But another part of him felt a new and strange excitement, because each new day was another day of adventure, of unknown, of possibility, and another day for he and Scorpius to create their own thrilling tale of daring and risk together. True, many days ended with depressingly little by way of achievement, but there was always the possibility and hope - something more than what he’d had while going about classes every day, as if all in the world was fine. Because it wasn’t.
But they would make it fine. They would force their way into the grand plot of life, and two fourteen-year-old wizards would find their fathers even when Aurors couldn’t.
He could dream, anyway.
Albus glanced up from his dreams and saw Scorpius frowning over the list of names. He set it down on the table and glanced up at Al.
“Scorpius,” Albus said as he watched his friend slowly bring a forkful of food to his mouth. “Do you think it would be weird if Lorcan and Lily, er, or even Rose, I guess, started dating? I mean, is it weird when friends, you know, turn into boyfriend…and girlfriend?”
He gazed across the small table at Scorpius with expectation. They were the same age, but there were some things Al had always turned to Scorpius for, as if Scorpius knew more than he did. He supposed it was more that they turned to each other for advice, because that was what friends did. Al had an older brother, but James had stopped giving him advice around the age of twelve. He was too cool for his little brother, but Albus had managed to find his own way, even if it mean fumbling around in the dark when an older brother could have shed light for him.
At least his cousin Teddy was willing to offer suggestions - when he wasn’t tied up with girls, or work deadlines, or trying to get a Muggle driver’s license. Albus still didn’t understand why Teddy wanted to drive. Wizards didn’t need to drive.
“You mean,” Scorpius said, drawing Al’s attention back to the table. “When your best mate goes with your sister? Or your cousin?” Scorpius looked at him strangely and Al shrugged. “I dunno, I don’t have a sister,” Scorpius said. “But maybe Lorcan would be a good influence on those goody Gryffindorks.”
Al nodded slowly, glancing away and then down at his hands, where his fingers where rubbing together, fiddling anxiously. He stilled his hands, frowning.
“Er, I need the loo,” he announced.
“Are you finished with this?” Scorpius asked back, indicating their shared meal. Albus nodded, and Scorpius drew the plate toward himself to finish it off, while Albus excused himself. The loo was in the back of the small café. It had seemed like the sort of café that remained hidden on a side alley, a place where the average wizard wouldn’t wander in and take note of two schoolboys far from their classrooms.
There was a tiny corridor that extended toward the kitchen, but halfway there were two doors, each one going to a gender-specific loo. Albus chose the one without the skirt on the stick figure, and reached for the door, just as someone stepped up behind him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the strange man asked low and gruff. “A student not at school where he belongs?”
Al turned toward him, glancing up into a face he didn’t recognise. It was a wizard, no doubt, dressed in tattered black robes, with dark eyebrows and thick stubble covering the lower half of his face.
“Peanuts!” Albus said much too loudly. The man leaned closer to him, and Al fumbled for an explanation. “I’m, er, allergic to peanuts, and they were in my supper. Please, sir, I need the toilet!” Albus quickly gagged, faking a throwing-up motion, and the man stepped back and nodded for Albus to lose his lunch inside the loo, rather than all over the self-proclaimed truancy-police wizard.
As Albus shut the door behind him, he glanced over his shoulder to see the table where he and Scorpius had previously been sitting. It was completely unoccupied, no sign of his friend nearby. Albus set the lock on the door in the loo and quickly paced the small room, trying to think. He turned on the tap in the sink and let the water run, while the gap underneath the door showed the shadows from the man’s shoes. He was waiting for Al.
Albus gazed around the room, looking for anything that might help him escape. He wasn’t sure that he could fight off a grown wizard, especially when he couldn’t use magic without being caught in underage sorcery. Then he saw the tiny window near the corner. It looked just barely large enough for Albus to squeeze through it; he would have to be fast. He used a cleaning bucket from a small cupboard in the corner and hastily climbed atop it, forcefully shoving the window open and using his fingers to tear the screen. It was stronger than he thought, and he snagged his skin on the taut lines. Finally he had enough ripped apart to weaken its hold, just as he heard banging on the door to the loo.
Al pulled himself out through the window, leapt to the ground in the alleyway and bolted as fast as he could, running down the first street he came to. He ran and ran and ran, turning left, and right, then left, as he heard footsteps somewhere in the distance behind him. He knew eventually he would have to stop and take a breath - and find Scorpius - but hopefully it would be when he was a safe distance away from whoever had been back at the café.
Albus was running down a back street of Le Passage Insaisissable, far away from the main street of shops and cafes, when someone else came darting toward him. His side hurt and he could hardly breathe. He started to take a different direction when he heard Scorpius’s voice call out quietly, “AL!”
They ran for each other, and Scorpius said, “Your bag!” He tossed Albus’s rucksack to him, apparently having grabbed all of their belongings before he’d run from the café. Al was glad Scorpius had heard his warning code word. They would have to thank Lorcan and Lysander for that great idea.
Al panted as he and Scorpius kept running down the back pathways of Wizarding Paris, side by side and turning down side streets unexpectedly until Scorpius took them straight to the back exit of Le Passage Insaisissable. He knew they had entered from an opposite side, through the Fer à Traverser entrance - on a pleasant street called Rue Robert Planquette - but this exit Scorpius was leading them to couldn’t be far from the inn they were staying at.
Albus waited as Scorpius searched for the exit among the bushes. He held their bags, back to Scorpius as he kept a look out, suspicious of everyone on the street. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a scuffling movement. He urged Scorpius on and they ducked out of the hedge of the wizarding arcade and into a darkened street of a shady division of Paris.
“This way!” Scorpius yelled in a hushed tone, grabbing Al’s arm and tugging him sharply down a dark Muggle street.
“Where are we going?” Albus asked. He swore he saw a sign that said, “Pigalle.”
His chest hurt and he coughed, but they kept going, their feet pounding hard on the streets. He thought he could hear someone chasing them, but he didn’t know if he was imagining it. The area was littered with people hanging about - some women in short dresses, a few men in baggy jeans. Someone called out to him, and Albus sprinted faster.
“We need to get to the train station and get out of here!” Scorpius insisted. Where didn’t seem to matter, as long as it would throw off whoever was chasing them.
Albus coughed again and he felt himself slowing. They’d been running for what felt like ages, and finally Scorpius tugged Al abruptly into a hidden entryway belonging to one of the large houses that lined the street. Scorpius dragged him into a narrow doorway within the entrance, and stopped abruptly, leaning out and peering around the corner for any sign of their pursuer.
The doorway was narrow, barely wide enough for the two of them to stand there together with Albus’s elbow resting against a large padlock.
“What - ” Al began, but Scorpius slapped his hand over Al’s mouth and shook his head. They stood facing each other, Scorpius peeking out every few seconds, both listening to the bustling hum of the dark night, wary of being found.
Scorpius removed his hand, and Albus panted without saying another word. They had both run harder than they ever had before in their lives - Al was sure of it. His heart was racing and Scorpius was panting too. The small nook they were hiding in forced them close as they stood, waiting to see if they’d been followed. Scorpius’s breath fell against the side of Al’s face. Albus gazed up at the darkened walls, the tall ornamental edgings over head, and then back at Scorpius again. Their eyes met, neither having to look up or down at the other. They were about the same height, though Albus had never particularly noted it before.
“Who was that man?” Scorpius whispered, his grey eyes looking dark, his face looking unlike his own. They were each wearing their disguise amulets.
“Dunno,” Al said quietly. He looked across into Scorpius’s eyes. He felt his heart still keeping a quick beat, and then looked away. They were both still trying to catch their breath, but the panting was starting to slow down. Al tried to relax. They’d not heard any more noises of someone following them.
Suddenly Albus yelped and clamoured up against Scorpius, as if he could jump into his arms. Al grabbed Scorpius’s shoulders and pressed against him.
“What the hell was that?” Al squeaked. “Something just bit me!” He felt himself edging into hysterics and thought the panic of the night was to blame for it. His leg was stinging furiously and he wanted to examine it but the darkness wouldn’t let him, and besides he didn’t want whatever it was to bite him again if he reached down toward it. Instead, he hung onto Scorpius.
“It was probably just a rat,” Scorpius said haltingly, yet his hold was fast on Albus.
“Rats carry all kinds of terrible diseases!” Albus exclaimed, pulling back enough to look into Scorpius’s eyes.
“How do you know that?” Scorpius asked.
“My aunt said so,” Al answered immediately, his grip still tight on his friend’s shoulders.
“You aunt says a lot,” Scorpius grunted. Al felt him shifting against him.
“Yeah, well, she’s dead clever,” Al went on. “Smartest witch I’ve ever heard of! And if she says something then is must be true!”
“Yeah, well, hush,” Scorpius whispered, eyes locked on Al’s. “We need to catch a train, and we have to figure out which streets will take us to the station. And we need to do it without getting caught.”
Fortunately, once they got their bearings, they realised that they were not far from the “Gare du Nord,” which turned out to be the North Train Station, where they could catch the Eurostar back to London. They managed to jump onto the last train of the evening just before it departed. Albus was uneasy about the idea of heading back home, but at least in England they would be able to do everything in English.
“We’ll take the list Rose sent us and match it to the list of families and signs we made ourselves. Then we can cross-check them until we find someone who fits our description,” Scorpius said reasonably.
It sounded like a good idea, but all their ideas had sounded good at the time. Albus wanted to believe they were getting closer, but riding the train back to England only made him feel more trapped. He leaned against Scorpius under their invisibility cloak, and let his head rest on his friend’s shoulder. He tried to sleep, but his mind was reluctant to do so.
If whoever this was had cursed Al’s broom and nearly killed him, and the same person had left a feather at Scorpius’s home - Albus worried that someone else would be hurt next. Would it be his father, or one of Scorpius’s parents? Or had their dads already suffered some kind of injury?
He shifted uneasily and felt Scorpius’s arm slide around his shoulder.
Whatever was waiting for them, they would meet it together.
Next: Chapter 26
Chapter: Twenty-Five
Word Count: 3,921 (chapter only)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mild language; occasional and/or eventual mild violence, strong language and scenes of a sexual nature
Characters: Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Albus, Scorpius, Lorcan, Lysander, James, Lily, etc.
Genre: Mystery, Drama, Romance
Summary: A wizard has disappeared, and the Ministry is refusing to investigate; Albus Potter is in the Hogwarts Infirmary, and Ginny and Hermione are arguing over Harry's peculiar behavior. All is not as it should be. HPDH+Epilogue compliant.
Notes: Written in British English. Huge thanks for cymonie for being my awesome beta! Another huge thanks to Lilau for her French-beta-ing!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |
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Paris had not been the most wonderful of destinations for Albus and Scorpius. It wasn’t that Al didn’t like the city - in fact he was quite enamoured by Le Passage Insaisissable, which was something of an arcade like he’d seen before in London, with its tall glass roofs overhead, covering the whole length of the road. Le Passage Insaisissable was the bustling centre of Wizarding Paris, possibly even larger in size than Diagon Alley. No, what bothered Albus about being there was the way he felt stuck in Paris until their friends could come through with information to take them to their next location. Besides, Paris was expensive, and if they had to stay much longer, Albus thought they’d have to go back to camping again.
In fact, finding a place to stay had been difficult enough, as it seemed every inn, hotel, and hostel required some kind of identification forms - whether magical or Muggle. They finally found a place which let them stay, no questions asked. Unfortunately, the privacy was paid for with the poor location. The small inn they found was on a back alley of the Passage with no lighting, shouts heard from outside, and one night even a loud Bang! that Albus insisted to Scorpius was the sound of a Muggle weapon.
Though the Muggle world stayed oblivious to the happenings inside Le Passage Insaisissable, their back alley inn, just across the way to a place the Muggles had named “Moulin Rouge,” was privy to all the magical and Muggle misdeeds of the night. Albus slept with his pillow over his head.
Owls had been coming to them so frequently that week, however, that it was very fortunate they had decided to stay in Wizarding Paris. He hoped the many owls would be assumed to be delivering messages to various wizards in the area, rather than the two curious English wizard boys skirting the outer edges of the Passage in dusk as they avoided making eye contact with anyone.
On that particular afternoon the second week of their stay in Paris, Al received a letter from Lysander Scamander. The owl had flown in through an open window in the wizarding library in Le Passage Insaisissable where Al and Scorpius were again reading though the vast collection of books there (luckily with large sections in English), trying to obtain new information on the signature signs of old that wizards had once used.
Hey Albus,
Your sister tried to punch me out yesterday when I told her to mind her own business. She must have learned from you and James. Naturally, Lorcan tried to reassure her in his own special way, but I made sure there was no funny business! Then Rose came and took her back to the Gryffindors. Speaking of funny business, Adele is asking about you. Well - who isn’t, really? That’s the better question. Anyway, enclosed is the information you asked for. We used some anti-tampering spells in case anyone is ‘listening in.’ Hope it works.
Albus read the note aloud and then handed it off to Scorpius, who was frowning about something in the missive. Al wondered if he was concerned about eavesdroppers. Scorpius set the letter aside, however, and flipped through the attached pieces of parchment, his eyes scanning quickly back and forth while Al watched.
“Great Merlin!” Scorpius said suddenly. “Look at this!”
Albus obeyed and slid over to a chair next to Scorpius, in whose hand was a page the twins must have torn from an old book in the Hogwarts library. “What is it?” Al asked.
He glanced at the photo on the piece of parchment and began to read the article. It was an essay on the use of wizard call signs, including how they first came into existence and when they were phased out. There had once been a Russian gang of wizards who had left a bear’s claw at every crime scene where they’d had involvement. Some cases even as far as Argentina had discovered bear claws, proving that the gang had hands on nearly every continent. The claws, no matter how far away they were found, always belonged to a particular Russian breed of bear.
“Well, we already found some mentions of this sort of thing.” Al frowned, talking over Scorpius’s shoulder.
“Read on,” Scorpius urged. Albus did so. The article went on to discuss the present day pureblood families and the call signs each family was said to be linked to.
“Apparently, every pureblood family alive today can be traced back to an old call sign,” Scorpius said.
“Even yours and mine,” Albus responded as it occurred to him. He knew his father was only a half-blood, but the Potters and Weasleys were both purebloods and each must have had their own sign at one time. He wondered if the signs changed when two families merged.
“Maybe that’s why this wizard might be linked to a bird that was bred in both Italy and France - maybe the wizard came from a family that has roots in both French and Italian wizard ancestry,” Albus surmised.
“Very possible.” Scorpius nodded. Then suddenly, “Blimey! Look there!” Scorpius pointed at one of the last paragraphs on the page. “I’ve been such a berk!”
The paragraph discussed how present day occurrences of wizard call signs would normally be found disguised in plain sight, often becoming ornamental or otherwise displayed as common knickknacks, souvenirs, or old keepsakes.
“What do you mean?” Albus asked Scorpius, sitting back in his seat and turning more toward his friend.
“Remember the feather attached to your broom?” Scorpius asked. Albus nodded.
“I’ve seen one like it before,” Scorpius confessed.
“What? Where?” Al demanded.
“I didn’t think anything of it, at the time. Like the article said, I thought it was some sentimental knickknack my mum was keeping. On the mantle in our home is an old quill - it looks like an antique. But attached to it are a bunch of frilly feathers. Nothing I’d ever be caught dead using. But one of the feathers in the lot - it’s darker. It looks like your feather,” Scorpius said, and by the end it came out apologetic.
“What?” Al said, still having trouble fathoming that a clue had been there all along.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t remember it!” Scorpius continued.
“So your mum is somehow attached to the accident with my broom?” Albus asked uncertainly, frowning.
“No, that’s the thing, the quill wasn’t always there,” Scorpius said. “In fact, I don’t remember seeing it until…until this past summer.”
“Criminy, Scorpius! Your dad disappeared, there was some attack in your home, and you didn’t wonder what the queer quill was doing there?” Al asked, voice raising enough so that the two boys received a hard look from a nearby librarian.
“I…well, I wasn’t home when it all happened, was I?” Scorpius retorted. “How was I to know where Mum had got the quill from? It was just some old rubbish she had dug up to replace the clock that the Ministry had confiscated.”
Scorpius looked displeased and Albus tried to ease up. He was attacking his friend and it wasn’t reasonable.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Al said quietly. “But where were you when it all happened?” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t asked before, and suddenly felt like a git for not having been a better friend.
“I was at my grandparents’ house. I always stay with them for a time in the summers,” Scorpius said. “When we found out Father was missing and there was evidence of something gone off in the house - well, Mum wanted me to stay put at my grandparents’.”
Al nodded, glancing again at the article that the twins had sent them, and thinking over what Scorpius had said regarding the feather in the quill.
“So, around the time that your dad disappeared, somehow the same kind of feather that came with my broom also ended up on your sitting room mantle. Any idea where your mum got it from?”
Scorpius shook his head slowly. “I only know that Mum referred to it as a gift from someone. Said it reminded her of an old friend.”
Al narrowed his gaze. Some old friend of Scorpius’s mum had apparently thought it a good idea to try and kill Albus. He didn’t like it.
“So what do we do now?” Al asked, stumped.
“Well, we still need the information from Rose. I do wish she’d hurry up already. We need to find someone with ties to your father, my father, my mother, Italy, France, and the strange feather. At least we’re narrowing the options down,” Scorpius said. Al nodded, sitting back in his chair and gazing at the many books they had spread over their table.
“We need to find a register or a list of all the call signs ever used and try to trace them through the families,” Albus added.
They got to work trying to do just that, but it seemed that every book they found contained only a partial list, so that they were constantly having to copy everything down manually and devise their own list of ancient families that had once been associated with certain kinds of symbols.
Later that afternoon, a short message arrived from Lorcan, whose only statement for the day had been: “Blimey, your aunt is scary!”
Albus knew it had to be his aunt Hermione, and wondered what she had done to his friends.
“Questioned them, I imagine,” Scorpius whispered over the book he was scanning. Al thought he was probably right, and hoped their friends had been able to stand the test that was Aunt Hermione.
Earlier in the week, Albus had struggled over one particular owl he’d received. Though James never wrote him, Al’s little sister did. She had reminded him of his promise to always be just on the other side of the Great Hall. He wasn’t there now. He wasn’t there for his little sister. But they weren’t children anymore and this was important. Hogwarts would take care of Lily, and he would write and ask Lorcan and Lysander to look after her, even if it seemed she was handling herself well enough when it come to those two.
The most encouraging letter came later in the evening over supper while Albus and Scorpius shared the plat du jour - one of the few items on a menu that Scorpius could order for them. Unfortunately, it often meant that Al never knew if he was eating meat, fish, or chicken, nor had he any clue what, exactly, was in the sauce poured on top. Additionally, they had reduced their meals to shared food every day, realising they would run out of money too fast if they didn’t find cheaper ways to feed themselves.
“Look, it’s another one,” Scorpius said as he held his fork halfway to his mouth. He nodded into the air as a large owl came swooping for their table, deposited its letter, and took off again.
“You’re like a celebrity with so many people writing you,” Scorpius laughed, noticing the letter had Al’s name on it again. Scorpius’s mother wrote him, but aside from her letters, the mail was always addressed to either Albus, or to the both of them.
Albus set his own fork down and reached for the letter, setting aside a second folded and sealed piece of parchment, and starting with the letter first.
Cousin Al,
Hey, it’s Rose. I’ve got what you wanted. I decided to copy the list down rather than sending you the book. You should know we’re not allowed to take books from the library outside of Hogwarts. Anyway, I decided to copy down not only our fathers’ year from Hogwarts, but also the list of student names from the years before and after. It might prove helpful if you’re looking for someone your dad knew while at school. You should also know that I’ve twisted Lorcan’s arm until he’s promise to update me every time he hears from you. I know those boys are up to something, and it’s probably something you’ve asked them to do. Just please be safe and come home soon. And find your dad, of course.
Love from,
Rose W.
After reading the letter aloud, Al set the note down and reached for the second attached one. Scorpius had had the same idea and reached for it too. Rather than gripping the pages, Al felt his fingers land on soft skin where Scorpius’s hand had been a second faster. Albus retracted his hand, giving Scorpius the chance to read the copied list of students first. Scorpius, though, paused for a moment, his hand on the parchment, his eyes closed, taking a deep breath. Albus watched him as his friend slowly pulled the paper toward himself and opened it up. His eyes moved across the page.
Albus waited for Scorpius to consume the information and give his first guess as to where they should start next, based on the list of names. He hoped some name would jump out at them - perhaps from something they had read on the old wizarding signatures. Al took a bite of their curious dinner and thought back to the research they’d done that day, and the interruption of owls, to his friends and relatives back at Hogwarts.
Part of him really missed Hogwarts. But another part of him felt a new and strange excitement, because each new day was another day of adventure, of unknown, of possibility, and another day for he and Scorpius to create their own thrilling tale of daring and risk together. True, many days ended with depressingly little by way of achievement, but there was always the possibility and hope - something more than what he’d had while going about classes every day, as if all in the world was fine. Because it wasn’t.
But they would make it fine. They would force their way into the grand plot of life, and two fourteen-year-old wizards would find their fathers even when Aurors couldn’t.
He could dream, anyway.
Albus glanced up from his dreams and saw Scorpius frowning over the list of names. He set it down on the table and glanced up at Al.
“Scorpius,” Albus said as he watched his friend slowly bring a forkful of food to his mouth. “Do you think it would be weird if Lorcan and Lily, er, or even Rose, I guess, started dating? I mean, is it weird when friends, you know, turn into boyfriend…and girlfriend?”
He gazed across the small table at Scorpius with expectation. They were the same age, but there were some things Al had always turned to Scorpius for, as if Scorpius knew more than he did. He supposed it was more that they turned to each other for advice, because that was what friends did. Al had an older brother, but James had stopped giving him advice around the age of twelve. He was too cool for his little brother, but Albus had managed to find his own way, even if it mean fumbling around in the dark when an older brother could have shed light for him.
At least his cousin Teddy was willing to offer suggestions - when he wasn’t tied up with girls, or work deadlines, or trying to get a Muggle driver’s license. Albus still didn’t understand why Teddy wanted to drive. Wizards didn’t need to drive.
“You mean,” Scorpius said, drawing Al’s attention back to the table. “When your best mate goes with your sister? Or your cousin?” Scorpius looked at him strangely and Al shrugged. “I dunno, I don’t have a sister,” Scorpius said. “But maybe Lorcan would be a good influence on those goody Gryffindorks.”
Al nodded slowly, glancing away and then down at his hands, where his fingers where rubbing together, fiddling anxiously. He stilled his hands, frowning.
“Er, I need the loo,” he announced.
“Are you finished with this?” Scorpius asked back, indicating their shared meal. Albus nodded, and Scorpius drew the plate toward himself to finish it off, while Albus excused himself. The loo was in the back of the small café. It had seemed like the sort of café that remained hidden on a side alley, a place where the average wizard wouldn’t wander in and take note of two schoolboys far from their classrooms.
There was a tiny corridor that extended toward the kitchen, but halfway there were two doors, each one going to a gender-specific loo. Albus chose the one without the skirt on the stick figure, and reached for the door, just as someone stepped up behind him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the strange man asked low and gruff. “A student not at school where he belongs?”
Al turned toward him, glancing up into a face he didn’t recognise. It was a wizard, no doubt, dressed in tattered black robes, with dark eyebrows and thick stubble covering the lower half of his face.
“Peanuts!” Albus said much too loudly. The man leaned closer to him, and Al fumbled for an explanation. “I’m, er, allergic to peanuts, and they were in my supper. Please, sir, I need the toilet!” Albus quickly gagged, faking a throwing-up motion, and the man stepped back and nodded for Albus to lose his lunch inside the loo, rather than all over the self-proclaimed truancy-police wizard.
As Albus shut the door behind him, he glanced over his shoulder to see the table where he and Scorpius had previously been sitting. It was completely unoccupied, no sign of his friend nearby. Albus set the lock on the door in the loo and quickly paced the small room, trying to think. He turned on the tap in the sink and let the water run, while the gap underneath the door showed the shadows from the man’s shoes. He was waiting for Al.
Albus gazed around the room, looking for anything that might help him escape. He wasn’t sure that he could fight off a grown wizard, especially when he couldn’t use magic without being caught in underage sorcery. Then he saw the tiny window near the corner. It looked just barely large enough for Albus to squeeze through it; he would have to be fast. He used a cleaning bucket from a small cupboard in the corner and hastily climbed atop it, forcefully shoving the window open and using his fingers to tear the screen. It was stronger than he thought, and he snagged his skin on the taut lines. Finally he had enough ripped apart to weaken its hold, just as he heard banging on the door to the loo.
Al pulled himself out through the window, leapt to the ground in the alleyway and bolted as fast as he could, running down the first street he came to. He ran and ran and ran, turning left, and right, then left, as he heard footsteps somewhere in the distance behind him. He knew eventually he would have to stop and take a breath - and find Scorpius - but hopefully it would be when he was a safe distance away from whoever had been back at the café.
Albus was running down a back street of Le Passage Insaisissable, far away from the main street of shops and cafes, when someone else came darting toward him. His side hurt and he could hardly breathe. He started to take a different direction when he heard Scorpius’s voice call out quietly, “AL!”
They ran for each other, and Scorpius said, “Your bag!” He tossed Albus’s rucksack to him, apparently having grabbed all of their belongings before he’d run from the café. Al was glad Scorpius had heard his warning code word. They would have to thank Lorcan and Lysander for that great idea.
Al panted as he and Scorpius kept running down the back pathways of Wizarding Paris, side by side and turning down side streets unexpectedly until Scorpius took them straight to the back exit of Le Passage Insaisissable. He knew they had entered from an opposite side, through the Fer à Traverser entrance - on a pleasant street called Rue Robert Planquette - but this exit Scorpius was leading them to couldn’t be far from the inn they were staying at.
Albus waited as Scorpius searched for the exit among the bushes. He held their bags, back to Scorpius as he kept a look out, suspicious of everyone on the street. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a scuffling movement. He urged Scorpius on and they ducked out of the hedge of the wizarding arcade and into a darkened street of a shady division of Paris.
“This way!” Scorpius yelled in a hushed tone, grabbing Al’s arm and tugging him sharply down a dark Muggle street.
“Where are we going?” Albus asked. He swore he saw a sign that said, “Pigalle.”
His chest hurt and he coughed, but they kept going, their feet pounding hard on the streets. He thought he could hear someone chasing them, but he didn’t know if he was imagining it. The area was littered with people hanging about - some women in short dresses, a few men in baggy jeans. Someone called out to him, and Albus sprinted faster.
“We need to get to the train station and get out of here!” Scorpius insisted. Where didn’t seem to matter, as long as it would throw off whoever was chasing them.
Albus coughed again and he felt himself slowing. They’d been running for what felt like ages, and finally Scorpius tugged Al abruptly into a hidden entryway belonging to one of the large houses that lined the street. Scorpius dragged him into a narrow doorway within the entrance, and stopped abruptly, leaning out and peering around the corner for any sign of their pursuer.
The doorway was narrow, barely wide enough for the two of them to stand there together with Albus’s elbow resting against a large padlock.
“What - ” Al began, but Scorpius slapped his hand over Al’s mouth and shook his head. They stood facing each other, Scorpius peeking out every few seconds, both listening to the bustling hum of the dark night, wary of being found.
Scorpius removed his hand, and Albus panted without saying another word. They had both run harder than they ever had before in their lives - Al was sure of it. His heart was racing and Scorpius was panting too. The small nook they were hiding in forced them close as they stood, waiting to see if they’d been followed. Scorpius’s breath fell against the side of Al’s face. Albus gazed up at the darkened walls, the tall ornamental edgings over head, and then back at Scorpius again. Their eyes met, neither having to look up or down at the other. They were about the same height, though Albus had never particularly noted it before.
“Who was that man?” Scorpius whispered, his grey eyes looking dark, his face looking unlike his own. They were each wearing their disguise amulets.
“Dunno,” Al said quietly. He looked across into Scorpius’s eyes. He felt his heart still keeping a quick beat, and then looked away. They were both still trying to catch their breath, but the panting was starting to slow down. Al tried to relax. They’d not heard any more noises of someone following them.
Suddenly Albus yelped and clamoured up against Scorpius, as if he could jump into his arms. Al grabbed Scorpius’s shoulders and pressed against him.
“What the hell was that?” Al squeaked. “Something just bit me!” He felt himself edging into hysterics and thought the panic of the night was to blame for it. His leg was stinging furiously and he wanted to examine it but the darkness wouldn’t let him, and besides he didn’t want whatever it was to bite him again if he reached down toward it. Instead, he hung onto Scorpius.
“It was probably just a rat,” Scorpius said haltingly, yet his hold was fast on Albus.
“Rats carry all kinds of terrible diseases!” Albus exclaimed, pulling back enough to look into Scorpius’s eyes.
“How do you know that?” Scorpius asked.
“My aunt said so,” Al answered immediately, his grip still tight on his friend’s shoulders.
“You aunt says a lot,” Scorpius grunted. Al felt him shifting against him.
“Yeah, well, she’s dead clever,” Al went on. “Smartest witch I’ve ever heard of! And if she says something then is must be true!”
“Yeah, well, hush,” Scorpius whispered, eyes locked on Al’s. “We need to catch a train, and we have to figure out which streets will take us to the station. And we need to do it without getting caught.”
Fortunately, once they got their bearings, they realised that they were not far from the “Gare du Nord,” which turned out to be the North Train Station, where they could catch the Eurostar back to London. They managed to jump onto the last train of the evening just before it departed. Albus was uneasy about the idea of heading back home, but at least in England they would be able to do everything in English.
“We’ll take the list Rose sent us and match it to the list of families and signs we made ourselves. Then we can cross-check them until we find someone who fits our description,” Scorpius said reasonably.
It sounded like a good idea, but all their ideas had sounded good at the time. Albus wanted to believe they were getting closer, but riding the train back to England only made him feel more trapped. He leaned against Scorpius under their invisibility cloak, and let his head rest on his friend’s shoulder. He tried to sleep, but his mind was reluctant to do so.
If whoever this was had cursed Al’s broom and nearly killed him, and the same person had left a feather at Scorpius’s home - Albus worried that someone else would be hurt next. Would it be his father, or one of Scorpius’s parents? Or had their dads already suffered some kind of injury?
He shifted uneasily and felt Scorpius’s arm slide around his shoulder.
Whatever was waiting for them, they would meet it together.
Next: Chapter 26