Chapter 8
James awoke to the unpleasant noise of something crashing to the floor, jerking him from sleep. Immediately, the junior Auror winced, pain shooting up his neck at the sudden movement.
Sluggishly, he blinked, trying to wake himself up and assess his surroundings. He was still in Director Graves office, curled up uncomfortably on a chair in the corner of the small room. Someone had thrown a dark robe over him as a blanket, which fell to the floor at his sudden movement.
James didn’t remember much of what had happened before he passed out. He faintly remembered his dad and the bossy director talking in low voices over piles of paperwork and then nothing.
Movement caught his eye, James turning his head in the direction of the desk. The black cat was sitting on the desk, its yellow eyes staring at him. Below it on the ground, a metal inkwell lay on its side, black ink dripping from it onto the floor. James stared at the cat and then at the mess before he inevitably met the creatures eyes a second time.
“You did that on purpose.” He accused the animal but resisted the urge to grab it by the scruff. He had gone to a school where the Head Mistress could turn into a cat. He had learnt long ago to be nice to the animals or else he could find himself in detention. He wasn’t sure what would happen now that he was an adult and no longer at school but he wasn’t prepared to risk it.
The cat gave a yawn, showing large sharp fangs, as if mocking him.
Remembering where he was, James looked around, half expecting to see his dad and Graves still in a heated discussion. But the office was empty.
Slowly uncurling himself from the chair, James rose to his feet, still looking around.
He didn’t believe his dad would just leave him alone in an office without good reason. Grabbing the robe, he folded it and draped it over his arm as he walked towards the desk, ignoring the cats soft mew as he looked down at the numerous files spread out on every available surface. His dad wouldn't have left him without leaving some note of where he was going. James just needed to find it.
Voices outside the office caused him to look up. Dropping the robe on the desk which caught the cat to mew in protest and jump to the floor, James turned and walked to the door and opened it, peering out into the larger room. A group of Aurors were standing around, talking excitedly. Quickly, James took stock of his situation. He was in a foreign country with Aurors who didn't know him. However, James had long since learn of the unofficial Aurors code which stated, regardless of cournty, Aurors looked out for each other. One of them was bound to help him find his dad.
Exiting the office, James made his way towards the group. One of them turned towards him and smile. James immediately recognised Auror Underwood.
“James.” Archie greeted. “Did you hear? We nabbed one of those Death Eaters.”
James blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that.
“What?” He asked.
“Yeah. This morning. A team raided a No-Maj apartment and located one of the bastards and that missing Potter kid.” Archie said, grinning. It was a good days work for the Aurors, catching a dangerous criminal.
There was a moment of awkward silence as James digested the news. Archie suddenly looked surprised and then concerned as he realised who he was speaking to.
“Oh. Sorry to drop that on you. Yeah, they found your brother.” he added, slightly sheepishly.
“Where is he?” James demanded, rounding on the group. Archie immediately held his hands up in supplication, the other Aurors watching James intently.
“In the interview room with a Healer from Josiah Jackson Healing Centre. He took a bad curse to the chest and the Director is waiting to speak to him as soon as he’s been given the all clear. You’re brother, by the way. I mean I just assumed, that was who you meant. The Death Eater is in a holding cell.” Archie shrugged.
James glared at him for a moment. Archie sighed, realising what that look meant.
“I'll show you. Follow me.” He said, turning from the group, his leather coat flying out behind him. From out of nowhere the black cat appeared, weaving between Archie’s legs as he walked away towards the exit.
After a few seconds of awkward silence from the remaining Aurors, James hurried to follow him out of the room and into a long corridor.
The Auror and the cat led him down several corridors, out into the main hall of MACUSA, down several flights of stairs and then through another series of hallways before finally stopping, James only narrowly avoiding stepping on the cat as it stopped behind Archie’s feet. Peering around the older Auror, James spied movement in the corridor.
In front of them, a man was pacing in front of a large window, speaking into a small compact mirror. It took James a moment to recognise his father. Harry's clothes were askew, his dark hair wilder then James had ever seen it. The older man continued to speak softly into the mirror, voice low enough that James couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Occasionally, he would stop and take long moments to look up at the window, his attention torn between it and the mirror before he would tear himself away and continue with the pacing and the conversation. After what felt like forever, he stopped in his tracks.
“Ok. Thank you Hermione.” Harry said finally, raising his voice to a more normal level before closing the small mirror. He sighed and raised his glasses to rub at his eyes. James watched silently as his father lowered his hand which was suspiciously wet. Finally, the silence became too much.
“Dad?” James asked, stepping forward as Harry lowered his glasses and turned to peer through the lenses at his oldest child, clearly surprised to see James there. James could see that his father’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. “Is it true? Did you find Al?” he asked quickly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his dad upset and it was starting to worry him.
Instead of answering, Harry gave James a small smile before turning to look at the window again. Moving to Harry’s side, James followed Harry’s example and peered through the glass.
There, seated in the interview room with a healer next to him, was his little brother, now all grown up. James found himself staring at the sight, trying to save the image in his memory, the first he had of his baby brother in over 4 years.
Al’s shirt was off, the healer wiping away blood from a nasty looking cut on his chest. Al’s hair was even more of a mess than James remembered, messier even then Harry’s and he had grown from the lanky teen he had been into a young man. A young man who James would recognise anywhere, despite the 4 year disappearance.
“You found him.” James found himself saying, the smile growing on his face in his joy. He felt Harry’s arm on his shoulder, feeling his dad’s comforting presence as he continued to gaze at his brother, battered and bruised but alive. “Finally. He’s coming home.”
-----
“Skinny Ginny.” A voice cried from downstairs. In her bedroom, Lily Potter rolled her eyes, recognising the voice of Uncle Ron.
Sighing, she dropped the plate of dried beetles she had been feeding to her poffle of Pygmy Puffs and flung herself backwards onto her bed.
Uncle Ron had been at the house just the night before, to tell Lily’s mother that her husband was in America for work. Lily had been present at the dinner table at the time, the awkward silence almost unbearable, despite Uncle Ron’s attempted jokes and banter.
For the last few months, Lily had been living at home with her parents, ever since she had given up her apprenticeship with her Uncle Charlie and returned, jobless and moneyless, to England.
It had been an awkward few months, her mother moaning at her to get a job or return to Uncle Charlies apprenticeship, her dad constantly pointing out how, at her age, he had almost completed Auror Training, and her Aunts and Uncles continuing to offer their unwanted advice or jobs.
If Uncle Ron offered her a job at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes one more time, Lily was sure she was going to hex him. And then there were the unwanted comparison between her and her cousins. She didn’t care that Rose was following her mother and had a minor position in the Ministry or that Hugo was training as a healer. She could give less of a damn that Victorie was writing her first novel or that Louis was succeeding as a chef in France. She would rather clean out her Puffs cage 100 times then hear about how Fred and Roxy were starting a band (again) or whatever Molly and Dominique were doing these days.
She didn’t care that her brother James was already renting an apartment with his latest girlfriend or that he was bringing honour to the family name. Lily just wanted to be herself.
Sometimes, Lily found herself fighting back the scream.
People expected her to be a Potter, to be a great witch because her last name. Not because of anything she could do or say. Her talents were second to her name. And she hated it.
Sometimes, she wondered if this was how Albus had always felt. Of course, he had had it a lot worse than the rest of them.
Named after 2 great wizards (according to their dad) Albus had to deal with not just the Potter name, but his physical resemblance to their dad.
With his dark hair and green eyes, Albus had looked exactly like their dad (Lily had seen the photos to prove it) and because of that, people had expected him to be a copy of their father, to take up the legacy their father had built and continue it. When he didn’t stack up to the image people had in their heads of what Harry Potter should be like, he was immediately punished for it, criticised and looked down on. Albus couldn’t be himself, he was always expected to be a second Harry Potter.
Lily had to admit, she had always felt sorry for her brother. Although she bore the Potter name, she looked a lot more like her mother with her red hair, pale skin and brown eyes (not that looking like Ginny Potter didn’t have its own set of challenges amoung the diehard quidditch fans. But Ginny was not one of the Golden Trio. Her resemblance was far less of a burden). James too, had looked more like their mother, with the brown eyes. His hair, although as unmanageable as their fathers, was a lighter brown, bordering on the Weasely red. Very few people looked at him and expected him to be another Harry Potter.
No, that curse was for Albus alone.
Lily hadn’t been surprised then, with that weight on him, Albus had failed to live up to the enormous legacy of their father. He had never stood a chance.
Lily knew that there was only one person outside the family who had ever truly seen beyond the Harry Potter label people had attached to Albus. That was Scorpius Malfoy, one of the kindest and most caring people Lily had ever met.
Lily had always liked Scorpius, even when, in her second year at Hogwarts, her father had started speaking out against the boy and his family, using those disgusting rumours against him.
Lily had known, even as a young girl, the distrust her parents held for the Malfoy family. But Lily had never seen it in the youngest Malfoy. Instead, Scorpius had been her Slytherin friend, helping her study for her OWLs even when he should have been studying for his NEWTs. It was Scorpius who used to sneak her into the Slytherin Common Room whenever she felt homesick and wanted to see her brother. Who would all but bully Albus when he got mopey about something and would occasionally help her practice for Quidditch, even though they were on opposing teams. Who had been her first crush before she had realised Scorpius’ interest in Albus, after she caught them snogging in a empty corridor of the castle in her fifth year.
Scorpius who had been attacked and driven from the Wizarding World on the say so of one of mum’s colleagues.
Scorpius, who was like another brother to her and who’s exile had driven a rift between her and her father.
Lily had been present that day, when Mr Malfoy had arrived at the house and told Ginny about the fight and the ultimatum Harry had given Albus. How Harry had raged at Albus, uncaring for the fact that Scorpius had been gravely injured and was fighting for his life, how Albus too was tied up in Skeeters stupid rumour.
Lily had found herself crying when a short while later, her dad had arrived home, kicking off a fight between her parents that Lily would never forget, Ginny screaming at Harry for what he had done to their child, for threatening Albus like that and causing him to flee. Lily had felt her heart break as her father, the man she had trusted all her life, didn’t refute the accusation but confirmed Lily’s worst fear.
She would never forgive her father for driving her brother, or the boy she thought of as family, out of the country.
It had been a relief to spend the rest of her summer at the Burrow with her grandparents, away from her father.
Although like her mother, she had eventually returned to the house, it had never been the same. Her father was stained with the darkness that hurt and betrayal caused. He was no longer the man she had admired above all others. He was a flawed individual who had taken her beloved brother from her, had hurt her Slytherin friend.
Even being back at the family home now was difficult. Albus’ room was still there, the door locked and untouched. Occasionally, Lily had seen her mother unlock the door and go inside, not to clean or take anything away but to stand and think. Her father too would do the same, on All Hallows Eve. Once Lily had even caught him at it, sitting in the dark on Albus bed, holding a small blanket to his chest as he stared into space.
Lily had backed away and gone to her own room to cry over the brother and friend she had lost. The next day the door had once again been locked and both Harry and Ginny acting like it had never been opened.
Lily knew her mother was trying but occasionally she still found herself resenting how Ginny had moved on with her life, as if her middle child wasn’t missing and possibly gone forever. How Ginny had the keys to Albus’ room and would not let anyone else in, like it was a privet shrine for only her and Harry, like they were the only ones grieving for their lost family member.
If Lily could choose, she would have rather stay anywhere but at the home, with a father she didn’t trust and a mother who seemed to not care for her daughter’s pain. But Lily didn’t have a job. And she would not stoop to a pity job offered by her family.
Lily would find her place. And it wouldn’t be as a copy of the grandmother who she had been named for, who died taking on the Dark Lord to save her father, nor as the daughter of Harry Potter, the boy who lived. No, she would be Lily Luna Potter, the one and only. And she would do it on her own.
“Lily.” Her mother shouted from downstairs, distracting her from her thoughts.
Sighing, Lily rose from the bed. She knew that she would have to make an appearance downstairs of her mother would be upset. Lily didn’t feel like fighting with Ginny right now. Besides, she had left the Mealworms for her branch of Bowtucks downstairs.
“Here’s the grumpy-bum.” Uncle Ron said, watching from his seat at the kitchen table as Lily made her way downstairs. “How are you Kiddo?”
Lily tried to ignore Uncle Ron, making a beeline to the cupboard where she kept her animal supplies.
“Same as yesterday, I see.” Uncle Ron observed, looking across the table at Ginny with meaning. No doubt the two had been discussing her before Lily had made her way downstairs.
Lily had to take a deep breath as she opened the wooden panel with more force then she meant, sticking her arm inside the cupboard to rummage around for the mealworms.
There was a soft woosh from the fireplace.
Surprised, Lily looked up as both her mother and her uncle rose from their seats.
“Hermione?” Ginny asked, trying to flatten out her skirt as the Minister for Magic entered the kitchen.
“What’s going on love?” Ron asked, moving to greet his wife but Hermione pushed him away.
“They found him. Ginny, they found Albus.” She stated to the stunned kitchen.
-----
The dank basement reeked, the stone floor damp, soaking the bottom of the wizards robes worn by the occupants of the room. Lucius Malfoy ignored this as he paced across the confined space. In one corner, his underlings worked, messing with the large stone basin in preparation for this day’s work. As Lucius looked on, Rabastan Lestrange drew a few bottles of misty silver fog closer to the basin before peering into it once more as several candles flickered, stolen wand moving in complex patterns. No one paid any attention to the empty space by the basin.
They were down one man, Theodore Nott having not returned from his task to destroy the evidence of their appearance. Lucius was not too worried. Nott was a poor excuse for a Death Eater and like a rotten limb, should be amputated as soon as possible. And even if Lucius wanted him gone, no doubt the snake would come crawling back soon enough.
Although his skills with creating cursed objects was admirable, there was little need for such skills now. Now that they had all the pieces.
Turning to begin a new lap of the small space, Lucius’ eyes fell on the young figure sitting quietly in the corner. His grandson Scorpius.
The man, little more then a boy, was still bound tightly, not that it was needed. The milky blue glow of his eyes showing the deep trance Lucius had placed him in as soon as the boy had started to fight back against his destiny, not comprehending what fate had in store.
He was everything Lucius had imagined from the moment the plan had begun to form, when that fool Crane had been brought into Azkaban, raving like a lunatic.
Crane had tried to stop fate. But it seemed, instead he had given it a helping hand, the mans raving of a new prophecy spreading through the prison once the man had been secreted away in Azkaban, whispered down the dark corridors until they had reached Lucius’ cell.
Lucius couldn’t help but stare at this grandson he had never met. The boy was young, powerful, and a spirited fighter. Even now, Lucius could see the boy’s body twitch slightly as he fought against the Imperius curse keeping him under control, so close to breaking free. But Lucius would not let him, not until the time was right.
The boy was a true Malfoy, carrying the same white hair, grey eyes and pointed chin of his ancestors. A throwback to his father, his grandfather and countless Malfoys before him. It was good to see that Draco’s unworthy wife had not tainted the boy too badly.
Lucius had very little opinion of the girl Astoria, even as a pure blood witch from a decent family. Even less of Draco for marrying her. When he had wanted to restore the family to their rightful place, it was clearly Astoria who had pulled Draco back from following his destiny. Clearly Astoria who had sunk her claws into the last Malfoy, leading to Draco’s betrayal of his whole family.
Draco, the son and heir Lucius had raised to be the pride of his family, torn down and destroyed by that girl before Lucius very eyes.
If it hadn’t been for the girl carrying his grandson at the time, Lucius would have gotten rid of her when he had the chance.
But the girl had not stopped fate. In fact, her hand would play an important part in history now, through the boy Scorpius.
And what a grand part it was. Even though he had hidden in the Muggle World, the boy was powerful. Lucius could feel it the moment he had laid eyes on the stunned boy in that small flat. All repressed power, hidden away until the time was right. Although Lucius didn’t approve of hiding among muggles, clearly the boy had been smart, keeping away from any wizards who would attempt to stop his destiny until the time was right.
He could have chosen a better companion to hide with. Lucius cringed at the choice of a Potter as a companion for his grandson. The boy a mixture of Potter and that treacherous Weasely blood. But then again, maybe it hadn’t been such a stupid idea after all. If Scorpius could command the loyalty of a Potter, then there was little the Ministry could do to stop him. The older Potter (Lucius mentally spat the name) was weak and wouldn’t dare take on his son if the boy stood at Scorpius side. In fact, he could hinder his beloved Mudblood Granger. Not that Granger was a threat. Scorpius was powerful and once they returned Grindelwald, he would be more powerful still. A true leader of Wizarding kind unlike the Ministry. True wizards would fall over themselves to join the cause.
All the Mudbloods and betrayers would be wiped from the world and the Pure Wizards would take their places above the muggles and scum.
Maybe Draco would return to the fold after all. The boy had some strange ideas, something Lucius had never managed to stamp out of him, despite his efforts, but Lucius had heard enough to know that the boy would more then likely come running back when his son was involved. And Lucius would welcome him into the fold, after some reprimands, of course. The boy wouldn’t escape punishment once he was back under his father’s hand. Lucius would make sure the boy knew his place.
It would be glorious to see the honour of the Malfoy family returned, three generations standing together as one. The Dark Lord returned to his rightful place.
Stepping forward to kneel down beside the bound figure, careless of the damp and dirt on the floor, Lucius reached down, running his fingers along Scorpius cheek. Unlike before he was placed in the trance, thos time the boy didn’t flinch at Lucius touch.
Applying a small amount of pressure, Lucius pushed Scorpius head to the side. In the dim candle light, he could see the scars peaking up above the collar of the boys green jumper. A reminder of those pathetic scum and their miserable attempt to stop the future. An attempt that had failed.
Lucius would not let them get a second chance. No, the plan was almost ready now.
Soon, their Lord would rise.
Raising to his feel, Lucius turned away from the boy and back towards his underlings to complete his work. Because of that, he didn’t hear the faint buzzing or notice the soft glow coming from Scorpius pocket.
------
“Mr Potter.” A voice said as Albus grabbed at his shirt and tried to ignore the wave of nausea as the Death Eaters curse slowly faded.
The healer had left after asking several uncomfortable questions, leaving Albus trapped alone in this room.
Pulling the shirt over his head to try and hide his face and buy himself a few seconds (Scorpius shirt. He hadn’t changed it since the previous day and now, to his dismay, there was a large rip in it where the Death Eaters curse had cut through the material) Albus tried to think of a way to escape the room and this building.
His father was here, somewhere in the building. Albus had lost sight of him when he had been transported here and marched into this room by a group of faceless Aurors and his wand confiscated, and Albus was not keen on hanging around to see any more of him.
He needed a way out. He needed to find Scorpius. They were both in so much danger. For all Albus knew, they already had Scorpius locked up somewhere, accused of some crime he didn't commit and ready to lock him up forever, away from Albus. Albus didn't have much time. He needed to escape now.
The door clicked shut as Albus finally pulled the shirt on and squinted at the speaker. His glasses had not been recovered and no one had let him get his contacts in the chaos so he was left trying to see as best he could without them.
It was a middle aged witch with dark hair and eyes, holding a manila folder. She was dressed like an Auror, the feeling of power surrounding her and Albus thought he could see the faint outline of her wand in her pocket. Too far for him to try and grab.
The witch gave him a friendly smile as she walked towards the table in the middle of the room where Albus’ shirt had been placed when the Healer was looking him over. She placed the folder down and opened it, leaving Albus to again squint to try and make out the insides with his less then perfect eyesight.
“My name is Gwen. If you don’t mind, I have a few questions for you.” She said. Behind her, Albus could hear the sound of the door locking with a second, deafening click, blocking any escape. He was too late.