Chapter 8
The next saturday after the disaster with Zara and Maryam, Draco felt the same feeling when he apparated into the waiting room, and noticed the same lone woman. It couldn’t be a coincidence, he decided, and he hurried out of the room without waiting to be summoned and went straight to Potter’s office, bursting in without knocking on the door.
Potter was hunched over his desk, scribbling notes on various bits of parchment with a huge, ancient looking tome open on his desk. He looked up at Draco’s arrival, and didn’t even say anything about the intrusion. Clearly the panic on Draco’s face was obvious. Draco sat down with Scorpius on his lap, both arms wrapped around his little boy, and told Potter what he’d seen. Potter had dutifully gone out to the waiting room, but had returned within minutes, all consoling smiles.
“There’s no one in the waiting room, Malfoy. I appreciate your worry, but I’m sure everything is fine. Daisy’ll be along any minute to collect Scorpius. Alright?”
Hesitantly, Draco nodded, deciding to trust Potter, deciding the saviour couldn’t let him down. Daisy did indeed come soon, and Scorpius wriggled out of his arms to run to her, and she smiled at him like normal, except it wasn’t like normal. Her smile was sharper, her eyes vacant rather than warm. She gripped Scorpius’ arm a little too hard as she led him out of the room. The door closed behind them and Draco tried to focus on what Potter was saying, but he found he couldn’t.
“Potter, sorry, I’m sorry, I just. I need to see Scorpius. Is that alright? I know I seem paranoid, but he’s my son, and something doesn’t feel right.” Draco said, getting out of his chair. Potter nodded, understanding.
“I would be nothing if I never trusted a gut feeling, Malfoy. Lead the way, we can check together.” he said affably, and they left his office. The discomfort in Draco’s chest grew, and he suddenly understood what mums meant when they said they could feel when something was wrong with their child, because every fibre in him was screaming at him to find Scorpius. He ended up running down their corridor to the normal room to find it empty.
“Shit.” Potter said from behind him. “I’m sure it’s fine, Malfoy. We’ll find him, yeah? It’ll be okay.”
“Where’s my son.” Draco said to the empty room, cold panic crashing over him like a tsunami. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this much fear- even Voldemort hadn’t made him as scared as this.
“Potter. Where is my son. WHERE IS MY FUCKING SON.” Draco was shaking. He was shouting. His ears were buzzing. His skin was itching. He couldn’t breathe.
“You said he was fine. You said- you said…” Draco felt Potters arms on his shoulders and he spun round, pounding his fists against the other man’s chest.
“WHERE IS MY SON, POTTER. FIND HIM. YOU HAVE TO FIND HIM.” Draco screamed, unable to hear himself. Potter’s arms tightened around him, and Draco collapsed against him, his legs unable to hold him up anymore.
“You have to find him.” Draco’s voice cracked, and he succumbed to the tears.