Chapter 2
“Hey Scott!” A voice called, as finally, finally, Scorpius left the lecture hall. He turned towards the voice as a person ran towards him. He smiled, recovered from his nightmare and abrupt start to the day.
“Hi Tay.” He greeted.
Tay was a friend from the LGBTIQ group. They were also studying History with Scorpius and had been a great support in his first year of college.
“So, Scotty, are you and Al coming to the dinner tonight?” Tay asked, matching Scorpius step as the two strolled across the collage grounds towards the library.
“Of course we are.” Scorpius grinned happily. He loved going to dinners with his new group of friends. They were great friends to both Scorpius and Albus and never once, had Scorpius felt like an outsider or unwanted when with any of the group.
“Good. It would be shit for you to miss your own party.” Tay paused, suddenly looking horrified. “I mean not party. I mean, we should have a party. You turn 21 soon. The big 2. 1. Gotta celebrate it. We are totally not planning a surprise party for you, not at all….please forget I said anything?”
Scorpius laughed. In a way, Tay reminded him so much of himself as a younger boy, all nervous energy and babbling mess but with a good heart. Tay was the sort of friend who could talk your head off and occasionally had to be told to be quiet but was still so loyal to those they loved. A lot of the time Scorpius found himself getting into long conversations, more like argument with Tay over points of history or literature or even the latest tv show. It was all in good fun, of course and Scorpius knew most of their group got a kick out of it, even placing bets on who would win the arguement.
“No surprise party. Got it.” He replied. Tay looked relieved, their shoulders sagging noticeably.
“Ok then. So you are in for the not party. Good to know. Now to more pressing matters. Please tell me you finally watched that last episode of Doctor Who! Because I am sick of only being able to talk about it with Alice.”
Scorpius laughed again and confirmed that he had watched the episode in question, letting Tay pull him into a long conversation about every detail of his favorite Sci-fi show. Because he was paying attention to his friend, he didn’t see the cloaked figure standing in the shadows of the building, watching them.
-----
Albus was having a good day. After his late night studying the night before, he had been happy to have no classes that day and had even managed to finish one of his assignments, no mean feat for him given his normal aversion to homework as a child. He had also applied for a lab position at a local factory which should help him get into the job market. Although Scorpius’ dad was happy to fund their education and all their needs, Albus looked forward to the day when they could be financially dependent. He had also managed a lunch with his friend Alice and her girlfriend Sam when they were on break from classes, where they had hashed out the final plans for Scorp’s surprise early 21st birthday party that night. Now he made his way back to the apartment he and Scorpius shared. On the way, he had swung by the post office to find a large letter addressed to him from Draco Malfoy. Holding it had sent nervous energy racing through him.
Although he knew what the answer to the question he had sent Mr Malfoy would most likely be, a small part of him was still nervous about the letter. Although it was still a week away, he wanted his boyfriend’s birthday to be perfect.
He had planned the surprise party for that night, to ensure all their friends would be there but his actual present would not be until the day Scorpius turned 21.
And it had to be good. Perfect in fact. Nothing but the best for his Scorpion (Scorpius still pulled a face when Albus gave him that pet name but it was better then Scorpion King, the reminder of the name he had been given in the dark world, which Rose had joked about for most of their 4th year)
Rushing the final few steps to the second story, Albus unlocked the door to the apartment and stepped into the small living room.
Their apartment was the very image of a muggle home, not a trace of magic in sight. In fact, only 2 items in the whole place were in any way connected to their former lives.
Their wands, both replacements for the ones Delphi had broken that night when she had taken them prisoner, were hidden in a box under their bed, the only reminders of their lives in the wizarding world.
Sometimes, Albus missed the wizarding world. He certainly missed his family. His mum was no doubt struggling with his disappearance and he missed Lily and her sweet teasing. He even missed James, although not as much as Lily. He missed his uncle Ron and aunt Hermione. He missed his grandparents and all his other uncles and aunts and cousins. He missed seeing Mr Malfoy in person and trying to make the man smile. He missed the joy of magic.
The one thing he didn’t miss was his father.
His father who had forced him to choose between the man he loved and his family. The man who had called his boyfriend such horrible names to his very face. His father who had always been the famous Harry Potter first and never cared to be a good dad, who always had to try and one-up his own sons problems, using any excuse to point out how good Albus childhood had been and ignoring any problems the younger wizard faced by pointing out his own past to gain sympathy.
When Albus was 14, he had truly believed that his father had turned a corner after the Delphi incident. But it had become clear quickly had the long standing resentment Harry held for his son not being perfect was not going to leave because of one adventure. Albus was a failure in Harry’s eyes and Albus was sick of living with that on his shoulders. It still made Albus’ face flush with anger, thinking about it.
Mr Malfoy had been kind enough to keep Albus up to date with his family as much as he could. Draco had to be careful not to give away that he knew where the two were hiding. He told Albus how after they left, Harry had driven himself into the ground, trying to track them down, how every Auror in England had been tasked to find them. How even aunt Hermione had approved funds for the search. He had been told how James had decided to follow in their famous father’s footsteps and become an Auror to attempt to track down his wayward brother. He had been told how Rita Skeeter had tried to again slander Scorpius now that he was gone and had faced the full force of both Draco Malfoy and Ginny Potter who had insured she would never write such slander again. He was told how his mother had suffered deeply from Albus’ exile, Draco taking it upon himself to inform Ginny of the fight between Albus and Harry where Harry had gone so far as to draw his wand on his own son.
Albus hated that his mother had been forced to find out these parts of her husband. Albus knew his father had always had anger issues (hell, he did too sometimes) and he was sure that Ginny had witnessed them before but to see her child the focus of the anger, to be forced to flee his home on the word of his father must have hurt her deeply.
He knew that, although still married, Ginny had moved briefly back into the Burrow with her parents and away from dad. In a way, he was glad for it, glad that his mum was supported.
He was also thankful that, through Mr Malfoy’s network, he had managed to get a letter, untraceable, to her to let her know he was ok. (It was funny how, despite having magic, a simple muggle letter stumped the greatest Aurors in England)
He had been surprised when, only a few months into their exile, Mr Malfoy had sent them word of his mother’s reply. It seemed that she guessed Draco had a line of communication with them and, instead of telling her husband and bringing down the might of the Ministry in Mr Malfoy, simply asked to pass on a message of love to both Albus and Scorpius.
Mr Malfoy had been happy to do so and at least three times a year, Albus and Scorpius received a letter from Ginny, on Christmas and both their birthdays.
At first both Albus and Scorpius had been wary of these letters, searching for tracking charms but after a while, they had relaxed. They knew that My Malfoy was also vigilant for such charms and would check everything that got sent through.
Finally, Albus got to work, opening the envelope. As he suspected, there were several letters stuffed inside. Two were addressed to Scorpius, one in his mother’s handwriting and one in Mr Malfoys. Another letter from his mum addressed to both of them was in there along with a letter addressed to Albus. Albus recognised Mr Malfoys handwriting.
Opening it, Albus quickly scanned the text, looking for the words he longed to hear.
Finally, a line caught his eye.
‘And with those reasons, I give you my blessing...’
Albus didn’t bother to read further. Instead, he dropped the letter and gave a whoop of joy, smile plastered on his face as he punched the air in triumph.
It took him a few moments of celebration before he realised he had dropped the letter. Hurriedly, he picked it up and shoved it back in the envelope. He walked into the bedroom and hide the envelope in his sock draw, next to the small black box. It would give the game away if Scorpius was to find either item.
As he was placing the letter safely under a pair of socks, a ringing sound caught his ears. He turned and went back to the kitchen where he had left his mobile phone.
It had been one of the muggle devices Albus liked the most. Not having to rely on letters or fireplaces or owls was a great thing and being able to have a conversation with someone without having to search for them was amazing.
He grabbed the phone and scanned the number before grinning and answering.
“Hi Tay.” He greeted.
“Ok, so I didn’t give away the party. I thought I had for a second but I didn’t. Just maybe don’t be too disappointed if Scott doesn’t seem surprised. I can assure you, he will be.” Tay rambled.
Albus couldn’t help but laugh. Tay was awesome, there was no other way to describe them.
“Great.” He replied. “How’s Scott?”
It had taken both Scorpius and Albus while to get used to their new names but they had finally managed it. To the muggle world, they were Scott Mallory and Alan Pritchett, exchange students from England, come to study in America. Both names were chosen for their similarities to the wizards actual names and because any mistakes where the boys said their real names could be covered by their accents.
“He’s good. We had lunch and he is off to his last class. I am going to meet him in the library after he finishes his tutor job and will get him to the diner after. Just make sure to let me know if I need to give you guys more time.”
Albus smiled.
“All good Tay. Alice and Sam have everything ready and the rest know the time and place so all we need is the soon to be birthday boy.”
“Damn, Scott is lucky. You are dragging his birthday out for a whole week. Wish I had someone to do that for me.”
“You will Tay. I have no doubts.” Albus said warmly.
“Wish I had your faith Al.” Tay replied. “But it doesn’t matter. Even if I find a Mx Right, I don’t think I will ever be as shippable as you two.”
“Ha ha.” Albus replied, pressing the phone into his shoulder as he arranged the letters for Scorpius to see when he got home.
“Alright. I gotta go. See you tonight Al. I will be the one trailing after your gorgeous boyfriend.”
“Bye Tay.” Albus replied before putting the phone down.
------
In the spacious living room of Malfoy Manor, a middle aged man sat, a book resting in his lap. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, his long blond hair pulled away from his face in a simple yet dignified style. A small glass of fire whiskey sat at his side, untouched.
Above him, a clock chimed the hour. It was getting late.
Looking up from his book, Draco Malfoy scanned the room, his eyes coming to rest on a photo resting on the small table. It showed three people. Draco himself, albeit much younger, standing proudly next to his wife Astoria. Astoria was smiling brightly, her beautiful dark hair falling in waves down her shoulders. One of her hands was in Draco’s, the other wrapped around the shoulders of a young boy. Like his mother, Scorpius was grinning. Occasionally, the then eleven year old boy would look up at his parents with love in his eyes. Draco watched as in the photo, Astoria turned and planted a kiss on his younger self’s cheek, his younger self looking back at his wife with such love as Scorpius burrowed into his side, forcing Draco to wrap his arm around the boy too. Scorpius gave an unheard laugh.
Lowering his book, Draco leant forward, watching the photo and his wife and son.
“You would be so proud of him Tori.” He muttered, a small, sad smile across his face.
He had never expected his life to become this. Sure, when he was a child and behold to his father, Draco had been led to expect a certain life as a powerful wizard and member of one of the most powerful families, leading them to glory.
But when he had married Astoria and when Scorpius had been born, he had found that belief shattered and something far more preferable to imagine. For a while he had even hoped to reach his old age with his wife by his side, their son happy and whole.
But that was not to be. Here he was, soon to reach 50 years old, a widower with his son in exile from his home.
And yet, there was cause for joy.
Albus Potter’s letter which had arrived just days before had made Draco beam with happiness, despite himself.
It had been years since he had seen his son, the risk of discovery too great. Draco knew that if the Ministry discovered where the boys were, it could only end in disaster. Harry Potter had seemed to grow to accept that he was to blame in his son’s disappearance and his reaction to Draco was now friendlier then it had been but Draco knew the man could turn, should he discover where his son was. And his hellspawn James Potter was equally as fanatical. Every so often, the boy would come after Draco, demanding to know where his brother was hiding. Draco had faced down far greater wizards then James Potter and would not be intimidated by the boy but it was still irritating.
Thankfully Ginny was still friendly to Draco and would reign in her child when he got too annoying. The Ministry too, had actually done some good, helping to squash the rumours about Scorpius being Grindelwald, not that it had helped. Like the Voldemort rumours, Hermione was not interested in actually helping until it was far too late.
Had the Ministry acted sooner, Draco knew that Scorpius would never have been attacked by Crane. Both Harry and Hermione had Scorpius’ blood on their hands for that and Draco would never forgive them, although, for the sake of his dignity, he would strive to be civil to them both. Someone had to be the dignified person in this situation and Harry Potter was not capable of being that person.
Thankfully, Draco could still go on with his daily business without suspicion. It had been 4 years now and the Aurors Draco knew were sent to report his movements to the Ministry were tired of watching him simply to try and find their bosses runaway son. Draco knew a few of the more junior Aurors resented their boss for making them secretly watch the older Malfoy. It didn’t help that Draco strove to make their duty as boring as possible, conducting most of his business from the Manor and rarely leaving except to walk the local Muggles Farmers Market to buy food. It was remarkably easy to annoy the younger Aurors, especially the youngest Potter who had clearly inherited his father’s lack of brains.
Draco had several holdings in America he had neglected to give the boys a chance to settle into their new lives. It was about time he started to give them his attention. He had already owl’d several of his contacts in MACUSA and in the private sector. A trip to America was not out of the question, and Draco doubted it would raise suspicion. And if he just happened to slip away for a few hours on what happened to be his son’s 21st birthday, well that was no one’s business but his.
Yes, a trip to America sounded like a good idea. And getting out of the Manor would be wonderful. He hated it here, on his own. It was the ancestral home of the Malfoys and as such, Draco felt obliged to live there but he hated it with a passion, only staying because to move would draw suspicion on him and he was not willing to compromise his son in any way. It had been better when Scorpius had lived with him. Scorpius had been such a bright child, even with the rumours and had made the dark place seem lighter.
But now, alone in the house, Draco could feel the chill of generations of darkness. Too often, he would walk along the corridors and remember the place crawling with Death Eaters, the rooms ice cold with dread. The West Wing, the strong hold of Voldemort’s forces and where it turned out, Delphini Riddle had been born (Draco was still unsure how he hadn’t known about this. He suspected his mother had something to do with it, keeping her sisters pregnancy hidden from everyone in the house and getting the girl out before the end. He had asked her portrait once but received no answer) had been locked up so that no one could ever get in there again, not that anyone would try. Malfoy Manor had a dark stigma around it. No one would dare approach. It was safe to leave.
He had already shot off an Owl to arrange a Portkey. He would leave as soon as possible to America. Reaching to the table where a quill and parchment awaiting him, he quickly wrote a few words down.
After a few moments, the hairs on the back of Draco’s neck suddenly stood up. Turning, Draco met a pair of eyes from the portrait above the fireplace.
“Mother.” He nodded politely towards the canvas likeness of Narcissa Malfoy as he placed the quill back in the inkwell and pushed the parchment safely aside. The portrait nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t say anything. Draco was not surprised.
The portrait was initially of both his parents but after his father’s arrest, Draco had banished Lucius from the portrait. He hadn’t wanted any reminder of the man who had put his family at risk, especially not around Scorpius.
Draco knew that Lucius’ likeness was now stalking around the portraits upstairs in the locked west wing. Some of the other portraits had told him about the bad tempered canvas. Narcissa, although not banished, had chosen to spend most of her time with her husband, appalled at Draco’s treatment of his fathers image, although through the years she had emerged in the large frame, normally to see Scorpius. She was fascinated by the boy, the same way the real Narcissa had been, even though she had long since died.
Still, it was strange that the portrait was here now. Raising an eyebrow, Draco sent her a questioning look but she made no reply, instead staring down at her son.
A small voice cleared its throat.
“What is it Daisy?’’ Draco asked, still staring down the portrait of his mother.
There was the shuffle of nervous feet before a female house elf approached Draco’s chair.
“Special edition of the Daily Prophet just arrived Master.” She squeaked. “And a bunch of owls have come in for you and more by the minute.”
Draco tore his eyes away from his mother’s painting to stare at the house elf. She was a free elf (Astoria’s work) and had been with the Malfoy family since Draco was a child, her loyalty to the family commendable, even though her earlier years had been terrible at the hands of Draco’s father. She was holding out a copy of the Prophet towards him. He stood up and took the paper from her, opening it to the front page.
He was shocked to see the title stamped across it in bold letters ‘MASS ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN!’
Quickly, he opened the paper to scan the articles, his heart racing as he read the names of the criminals who had escaped, their pictures glaring up at him from the pages.
In horror, he looked at the face of his own father, ravaged by time but no less recognisable.
Dropping the paper, Draco strolled to the fire place and grabbed a box of Floo Powder.
“Place the house in lockdown. No one is to get in until I return.” He ordered to the House Elf, knowing she would pass the message along to the other staff.
“Yes Master.” Daisy squeaked as Draco threw a handful of powder into the fireplace and stepped into the flames, muttering his destination before he disappeared.
------
Harry was not having a good day. Merlin, if he were to be honest, he wasn’t having a good week. And his year was pretty average too.
The Azkaban Breakout had set everyone on edge and Hermione was on the war path over it. Harry himself, along with several of his best Aurors had been made to visit the famous prison to figure out how in Dumbledore’s name, it had happened.
Thankfully, Delphini Lestrange (They had refused to try her under the name Riddle. The Ministry had initially attempted to keep the identity of Delphi’s father under wraps, not wanting a panic to ensue if word got out that Voldemort had indeed, fathered a child. Instead, she had been given the name her mother had operated under. The denial of her heritage had driven the woman as insane as her mother, even as the Ministry had failed to keep secret their high profile prisoner) was still in her cell, babbling incoherently to herself, her mind long since broken. But that had been the only relief. A lot of dark wizards had escaped, Theodore Knott and Rabastan Lestrange among them, and Harry still had no clues as to how they had done it.
The worst of all, Lucius Malfoy was gone.
Harry knew, deep down, he should Owl Draco and let the other man know of his father’s escape before Draco found out by the man turning up on his doorstep or some other horrible means.
Another Ministry secret was that Draco had been instrumental in Lucius’ capture the first time, when the man had gone after Hermione who had been running for office at the time and all the senior Ministry officials in an attempt to destabilise the Wizard community. They had never talked about it, partly because Harry hadn’t known what to say to his enemy, turned reluctant ally, and mostly because shortly after, Draco and his family had disappeared from the spotlight and become unreachable with the birth of his son.
At the time, Harry had been convinced that Draco had disappeared because of the shame of turning against his father and later, with the rumours of Scorpius’ parentage. Harry had allowed himself to believe the lies for a short while too, which had certainly damaged their chance of even a small friendship for a long time.
Merlin, Harry hadn’t allowed himself to think of Scorpius Malfoy in a long time. His son’s best friend from the age of eleven, the child had been forced to deal with more dragon shit then anyone Harry knew.
Harry had often been the target of unfair rumours. The Heir to Slytherin was a particularly bad one that Harry had endured for half a year. But Scorpius had lived with these vial rumours, of being Voldemorts son and later, being the reincarnation of Grindelwald, for most of his life. And in the end, it had almost cost both Scorpius and Albus their lives.
Harry was not proud of how he had handled that whole situation.
Firstly the years where he had refused to help Draco dispel the Voldemort rumours, even when the man had been reduced to begging for Harry’s help (as much as a Malfoy could beg. It must have cost Draco his pride to speak the rumour aloud). And then Rita Skeeter’s book which had resulted in the Crane attack.
Then his actions when Harry had learnt of Crane’s attack, He had been furious. Not at Crane but at Scorpius. He hated the fact that someone had gotten to his child, that Albus had put himself at risk for the other boy. They had only just graduated Hogwarts and Albus’ life was already under threat and Harry hadn’t been there to protect him.
Harry and his team had immediately gotten to work, making the muggles believe that the attack was a terrorist attack, liaising with the Muggle Government to hide the truth and wiping memories of the incident from the poor unfortunate Muggle witnesses.
By the time he had received Ginny’s irate Owl to get to the hospital, it had been a whole day since the attack and Hermione, on receiving her own angry owl from Ron, had threatened to kick Harry out of the building if he didn’t go see his son. On arrival, Harry had spied Albus, sitting in the waiting room with Draco, a few bruises and bandages on his face and Harry had seen red. It wasn’t until later that he had even realised that Scorpius wasn’t there, that the other boy was in another part of the hospital, fighting for his life. All he had seen was the damage to his precious son and he had hated Scorpius Malfoy for it.
He hadn’t expected Albus to fight him, for the screaming match to escalate to what it became. Albus had always been quick temptered, something Ginny said he had inherited from Harry, but normally, Harry was able to keep his tempter around the younger man. Only once before had he truly lost his temper at his son and it had blown up in his face. He hadn’t expected Albus to, in a fit of rage, reveal the extent of his relationship with the younger Malfoy. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming.
Harry didn’t even remember drawing his wand on his son, demanding that Albus chose between his family and his friend (more than friend. Inside, Harry had known about the relationship, possible before Albus did. He had thought he didn’t have an issue with it until everything had come crashing down around him). Even now, he had no idea what he had been planning to do with it. But he did remember Draco’s right hook, knocking him to the ground and snatching the wand from his grip before he could utter a single spell. He remembered Draco standing over him, one arm wrapped protectively around Albus as Harry’s son stared at him in horror and fear.
Harry had risen shakily to his feet, his face throbbing from the blow. Draco had never been the sort to use physical violence when he could use magic and the punch had shaken Harry more than he was prepared to admit (and although he wasn’t ever going to say it aloud, was probably justified)
“Albus.” He remembered saying to his son and starting as Albus had turned his face away and pressed himself against Draco’s side, refusing to look at Harry, refusing to listen.
“Leave Potter.” Draco had hissed, still keeping a protective grip on Albus’ shoulder. “Now.”
Harry remembered Draco throwing the wand back at him, looking at him with absolute disgust before Harry, shoulders slumped, had retreated to his office in the Ministry to bury himself in his work and try not to think about what he had almost done.
Harry hadn’t returned home for a few days, choosing to sleep in his office and try to figure out how his life had become so screwed up and when he did, the nightmare had truly begun. Albus and Scorpius were both gone and Draco had told Ginny of their confrontation.
Ginny had been furious. Their son had fled and unlike his kidnapping at the hands of Delphi, it was all Harry’s fault.
Harry had never truly been the object of his wife’s hatred before that night when Ginny had packed up, taken Lily to the Burrow (James had been on tour in France) with strict instructions that Harry was to find Albus, apologise and not contact them until he did.
Harry, in a state of misery, had tried his best. But locating his son, even to apologise for what he had done, had been impossible. Albus and Scoprius had become ghosts in the wizarding world. Even when Harry had called the whole Ministry and anyone else who owed him favours in to try and find his son, he had been unsuccessful. Not since that fateful day when Albus was 14 and trapped in the past fighting Delphi, had Harry felt so helpless.
It was a few days later when he had finally heard from Albus. Albus had managed to get a letter through to Ginny, telling her that he was alright and he and Scorpius were not coming back. The letter had made no mention of Harry, not of their fight or Harry’s idiotic ultimatum to his son. No reference to him at all. Albus was blocking him out.
Ginny, reluctantly, had moved back home and she and Harry had begun the long process of attempting to repair their fractured relationship, both of them very aware of the missing piece of their family.
Harry had gotten ahold of Albus letter one night and cast every tracking charm he could think of on it but to no affect. Albus was too good at hiding and he had reason to. Never before had Harry seen his own child so frightened. And of him.
Albus’ disappearance had hurt more than just Ginny and Harry. Lily, still a Hogwarts student at the time, had been devastated to learn her brother’s disappearance and had immediately blamed her father, freezing him out of her life. It had almost been a relief when she had left for the start of her 6th year of school but the damage was insurmountable. Even now, their relationship was strained, Lily no longer looking on her father like he was the light in her world. And James… despite his constant teasing, James adored his little brother and wanted him back badly. It was the driving force that had led to James leaving his career as a professional Quidditch player like his mother in order to focus on finding his brother.
Harry had, with some surprise, discovered that both his children had already known about Albus relationship with Scorpius and both were also worried for the missing Malfoy. James had had the making of a talented Auror, had joined the Ministry with the goal of finding the two missing men. Despite his pride in his oldest, Harry wished he hadn’t joined in such circumstances. Not at the cost of his brother.
The search was entering its 4th year now. If it wasn’t for the occasional letter Albus somehow managed to send to Ginny, Harry would have fallen into desire. As it was, the search had dwindled to just Harry and James. Hermione tried to help too but she couldn’t be seen to provide too much of her time. She was the Minister of Magic and as such, she had a duty to the whole Wizard World.
Ron too, kept his ear to the ground to little affect. As he had said multiple times ‘when you run a joke shop, no one takes you seriously’.
Initially, Harry thought Draco would help, given his reaction to the Delphi incident but the older Malfoy had made it clear that he was not interested in Harry ‘ruining’ his son’s life. Harry strongly suspected that Draco knew exactly where the boys were hiding and was possibly funding them but Draco was too good at covering his tracks and without proof, Harry could not go after him. Not that he hadn’t tried once, early on in the search. It had almost cost him his job when Hermione had found out.
Harry was already on thin ice as it was. And if he was honest with himself, he was tired of fighting with Draco. Tired of constantly being at odds with the other man. And with the search in its 4th year, he had had a lot of time to reflect. If Draco had a line to Albus, then he was clearly helping the boy contact Ginny, the occasional letters appearing to let Ginny and Harry know that their son was thriving away from the Wizard World. Harry couldn’t truly blame Draco for that, even if he resented the man having contact with Albus where Harry didn’t.
Shaking his head, Harry tried to get back to the task at hand. Lucius Malfoy, along with several others, had escaped from Azkaban.
Harry had no idea where they could be heading or what their plans were. When Harry and his team had visited the cells of the escaped prisoners, they had been empty, nothing to show what was being planned. But something had to be in the works. Something bad. A mass breakout from one of the most secure wizard prisons in the world could not be spontaneous. This had to be planned for a long time.
There was a commotion outside Harry’s office, raised voices shouting at one another.
Standing up, Harry peeked outside. He froze.
Before the door, James was standing, nose to nose with Draco Malfoy. Malfoy looked proud and tall, staring down at James, who was a good deal shorter then him and who was clearly trying to prevent him from getting into Harry’s office.
“Do not waste my time Potter.” Draco was saying, voice dangerously low.
“Tell us where they are Malfoy.” James spat back. “I know you know.”
Quickly, Harry opened the door to his office.
“James. Enough.” He stated. James turned to stare at Harry, his blue eyes looking into his father’s green ones. “I believe you have a report due. I expect it on my desk in an hour.”
James glared at his father for a moment before turning and deliberately shoving past Draco, swearing under his breath as he made his way back to his desk.
Draco turned his grey eyes on Harry.
“Draco. Please come in.” Harry stated through gritted teeth. He could already guess what this was about. Someone must have talked to the Prophet and now Draco was out for blood.
Returning to his office, Harry was very aware of Draco stalking in behind him.
He turned, prepared to offer Draco a drink, partly to be a good host but mostly to give him time to mentally prepare himself but Draco wasn’t having any of it.
“Lucius Malfoy. Why was I not informed?” The blond man spat.
Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.
“We have it handled.” He replied. “we…”
“Oh really?” Draco cut in. “You have it handled. It’s been a week. A week Potter. My father has been on the run for a whole week and you didn’t see fit to inform me?”
“Draco…” Harry started. To be honest, he didn’t know what to say in reply. Yes, he should have told Draco about Lucius escape. If anyone was in danger from the man, it would be Draco. Lucius was all too aware of who had been the cause of his capture and that would no doubt wish to punish Draco for his betrayal.
“….I’m sorry.” He muttered. “I should have owl’d you. I just. I didn’t know what to say.”
“Your father has escaped from Azkaban. How about starting with that?” Draco shot back.
Harry felt his face flush with anger.
“It wasn’t that easy.” He defended himself.
“Do you even know where he is?” Draco asked.
“Do you?” Harry shot back.
Draco’s eyes flashed but Harry saw him subside slightly. Harry too slumped back. For a moment, they weren’t the childhood enemies they had once been, nor the barley tolerant and reluctant allies the incident with Delphi had turned them into. Instead they were two tired men, stick of all the fighting and pain from a war that should have been over years ago.
“Do you have any idea what is he planning?” Draco finally asked.
Harry shook his head.
“His cell was empty. The guards all state they don’t know anything. Lucius kept to himself mostly, not interacting with the other prisoners and none of them ever heard anything suspicious from him.”
Harry looked up at Draco who was starting at the wall, lost in thought. His fingers were drumming against his thigh absentmindedly. For a moment, Harry remembered his first meeting with Lucius when he was just a child. The man had been stern, proud and would never be caught fidgeting. It struck Harry suddenly that, despite their physical similarities, Draco was nothing like his father.
“Do you know of any safe houses he might have? Anywhere he could go?” Harry finally asked. For a moment, he through about Malfoy Manor. If the escaped prisoners had gone there, Draco would more than likely be their prisoner or dead, not be standing in his office now.
Draco shook his head.
“I gave up all my father’s secrets years ago. If he had anywhere, I never knew about it.”
Harry nodded. He knew that Draco had been kept from the worst secrets of his family during the second Wizard War, both because of his youth and because of the protection of his mother who was trying to save him from danger.
“And the Manor? Would Lucius go there?” Harry asked. He already knew the answer but he had to rule it out. Just in case.
“He would be foolish to. Its heavily warded and I got rid of any Dark items long ago.”
“Except a Time Turner.” Harry shot back.
Draco gave him a look which clearly said Harry should be grateful that Draco had kept the Time Turner. It had saved both their sons lives in the end.
“How’s your mark?” Harry asked. He had wanted to avoid the question but there was no way around it. It was an insensitive but it needed to be asked.
Draco’s expression changed to a blank mask of indifference, preventing Harry from guessing his feelings on being asked about a mark gained during such a dark and shameful moment in his life.
“No change.” He replied after a few moments of silence. As if to prove the point, Draco pulled up his sleeve, showing the scar across his forearm, the remains of the Dark Mark.
“Yours?” He shot back, knowing that Harry had the same reaction when his own scar was mentioned. But Harry was ready for it.
“Nothing.” Harry nodded as Draco dropped his sleeve.
The two stood in silence for a long moment, staring at each other, neither sure of what to say.
“It’s Scorpius’ birthday soon, isn’t it?” Harry finally asked before he could stop himself. Inwardly, he winced at the error. Draco’s mask broke for a second before a scowl crossed his face, the man remembering their unpleasant confrontation in the hospital those years ago as well as Harry did.
“Let me know if you hear anything about Lucius.” He replied, turning so fast towards the door, his blond hair went flying.
“Draco, wait!” Harry called, rising from his desk. “I’m sorry. I just….I miss him.”
Neither needed to know who Harry was talking about. It was evident.
Draco paused at the door for a moment before Harry heard a quiet mutter.
“I do too.”
Draco pushed the door open, the heavy wood almost striking a dark haired witch standing just outside. The woman turned and without asked, pushed her way past Draco and into the room, her black robes, edged with gold, flying with the force of her movements. Draco stumbled back into the room, looking surprised but the woman ignored him, walking straight to Harry.
“Mr Potter.” She said in a heavy American accent. Harry immediately recognised her. Even without looking at the golden eagle stitched into the breast pocket of her robe. His counterpart from MACUSA.
“Ms Graves.” He replied, nodding towards the witch. He opened his mouth to give a further greeting but was cut off, the woman holding up her hand to silence the Auror.
“There has been an attack.”