“Sometimes I can’t believe how dumb you are.”
Scorpius looked up at me, a maniacal glint in his heavily lidded amber eyes. His heavy brow was furrowed as he stared at the cold, steel waves in front of us. They crashed against the cliff we stood on, sweeping debris and pieces of rock back into the icy depths of the ocean. The wind was lethal; it howled down our ears and whipped our hair into our eyes, temporarily blinding us, which was extremely dangerous considering how close to the edge we were standing.
“I’m not dumb,” he replied carefully, taking my hand in his, “I just need to do this.”
I sighed. “Do you really need to do this? I mean, what is there stopping us from going home now and waiting?”
“We’ve been over this a million times, Lyra,” he said, half exasperated, half amused. He tucked a strand of my long, dark hair that had fallen into my face behind my ear. “We’ve waited five years, and they’re still in there, rotting. Meanwhile, there’s us, free as we like, and we’re no closer to finding Him than they ever were.”
“We should keep looking,” I said quietly. “Once we find Him, it will be easy to jail break them.”
Scorpius shot me a furious glance and I fell silent immediately. The only noises that could be heard over the deafening wind were the shrieks of a lone gull and the relentless pounding of the sea against rock.
After a few moments, he inhaled heavily, his face inscrutable. “You don’t understand.”
“I know.” I kept my expression as blank as his. He gazed into my eyes and I felt faint when I saw that his were burning with anger. “Tell me,” I added quickly. “I want to understand.”
“I have told you,” he said sadly. “Not properly,” I argued.
“Please, Scor. I need to know.”
“I love them—they are my parents.” He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with the end of his wand. “I can’t really explain it, Lyra. I know in my heart that this is the right thing to do.”
“And you trust your instincts,” I said quietly.
“Yes,” he agreed, blowing smoke rings. They looked almost purple against the inky black sky, fluttering apart in the wind. “They are normally correct.” He smiled at me, stroking the pale skin of my hand with his thumb.
We saw the boat before we heard it. There was an old-fashioned lamp on the rigging and it illuminated the water so that it glittered white. Scorpius picked up a sack behind him and scrambled down to the harbor, preparing to board. I followed, feeling sick as I looked at his luggage. The Muggles inside could awake at any moment.
When it arrived, we got on board and went below deck—it was far too cold to stay up top. The journey seemed to last seconds, just like most things do when you are dreading something. I barely noticed the bobbing of the boat as we moved far too quickly toward the prison. I saw the gray walls of Azkaban looming up in front of us as I looked out of the window. My heart sank; we were closer.
The boat came to a sudden halt. Scorpius helped me up on deck and down the plank that had been lowered onto the rough pebbles of the shore. I somehow managed to marvel at how strong he was even though I was terrified, for he was carrying the two Muggles as well.
“Are you one-hundred per cent sure you want to do this?” I whispered, gazing up at his pale face.
"For the love of—yes, Lyra, I’m sure!” he snapped irritably.
“What about the Muggles?” I hissed. “What will happen to them?”
“They’ll get sent back to wherever they came from,” said Scorpius harshly. “They’ll have their memories wiped, and that will be the end of it.”
“What if they’re killed?” I asked, gripping his hand tightly. “Seriously, what if they kill them?”
“They won’t,” he replied firmly. “I just know, OK?”
We walked toward the heavy iron doors, Scorpius casting a Disillusionment Charm on the sack as we went. I was panicking so much I could barely concentrate. The sounds of my boots crunching on the stones seemed to echo in my mind, and the wind was barely a whisper compared to the pounding of my own blood through my ears.
For five long, lonely years, Draco and Astoria Malfoy had been trapped in this hell. They were not the only ones that this had happened to; ever since the Exército de Leoa had invaded Britain nine years ago, many people had been dragged into Azkaban. I did not really know what the Exército de Leoa actually did; I just saw the reactions on people’s faces when they were mentioned. I knew that they were an army; their name gave it away. It meant something along the lines of The Army of the Lioness in Portuguese. No one actually knew where they had come from, either. All we knew was if there was an odd disappearance, or an unsolved murder, or an inappropriate attack—any situation where something was inexplicably incorrect—it could be traced back to the Exército de Leoa.
In our hearts, the Wizarding Community knew that the Ministry had once again been infiltrated, for the second time in thirty years. Harry Potter (the head of the Auror Office) had been swamped with complaints and Howlers, because when the last disaster had happened, he had been the one to solve everything. Eventually, he had vanished six years ago, presumably cracking under the strain, leaving behind his devastated wife and three children.
I had a huge amount of sympathy for Harry, as did Scorpius. Our fathers had told us tales of Harry’s teenage years, and we had listened in awe. Now we were desperately searching for Harry, but we had no idea where to start. Draco had known him at Hogwarts, and Scorpius had managed to convince himself that if his father joined our hunt, we would find Harry and peace would be restored. I clung to this hope too; I loved Scorpius with all my heart and while he had faith, he was back to the boy I had hopelessly fallen for in my fourth year at Hogwarts.
All had changed in our seventh year. Draco and Astoria had been thrown into dingy cells and left to rot. The Ministry had never been clear as to why they were incarcerated. All at once, Scorpius had seemed to age twenty years. Even on our wedding day, he wasn’t happy. It broke my heart, yet I still clung to the belief that he loved me as much as he did. I was not too sure about that now, but there was no going back: we had been married for four years.
The Watch-Wizard greeted us warmly when we entered; we were regulars, after all. Scorpius had been visiting his parents for five years. He raised the Probilty Probe apologetically as we passed, and I saw Scorpius pull his wand from his robe.
“No, it’s OK, lad,” said the Watch-Wizard thickly. “I checked your wands last week, remember?” His expression changed from concerned to blank in the space of five seconds. “I’ve checked you, haven’t I?”
Scorpius nodded, and pulled me the concealed sack and me towards the dark staircase that led to the cells.
“What did you do?” I was panicking. We’d agreed that we’d keep the magic to an absolute minimum. “Scorpius, you promised you wouldn’t use any Unforgivables!”
“I didn’t,” he said, walking so fast I had to run to keep up with him. “I Confunded him,” he lowered his voice to a whisper and slowed as we passed yet another guard.
I panicked yet again. I couldn’t help it; questions were running through my mind, screaming about every possible scenario. What if the guards realized one of them had been Confunded? What if they held Secrecy Sensors built into the walls? The further we walked, the stupider the plan seemed.
Scorpius stopped abruptly, breaking my troubled reverie. We had reached Astoria’s cell.
“Scorpius?” she whispered. “Lyra? It is so lovely to see you.”
“Yes,” said Scorpius, “it’s great to see you too.”
Then Scorpius acted so fast he was a blur. He pulled the Muggle woman out of the sack, grabbed a strand of her hair and unlocked his mother’s cell door with his wand. Then he pushed a goblet full of potion into Astoria’s hand, dropped the hair into it and pulled one from her head. He placed it in another potion and forced it down the Muggle woman’s throat.
Astoria’s skin began to bubble and change. I turned around, too squeamish to watch and counted the gray bricks that made the wall. I reached thirty-four before Astoria’s transformation was complete. Her normally red-brown hair was a dull, scraggly yellow, and her usually flawless skin blotchy and red. The Muggle woman on the floor was still unconscious, but I could see that she had grown at least six inches and lost about half a stone.
“Come on!” Scorpius urged, pulling us out of the cell and sprinting toward Draco’s, dragging the Muggle man behind him.
Astoria and I stumbled behind him, struggling to keep up. By the time we’d caught up, Draco’s baldhead was growing rust colored locks and his eyes were changing from blue to brown. I cast a silent Disillusionment Charm on Scorpius’ parents, and then we were rushing back to the front doors, while Astoria whispered her gratitude into my ear repeatedly.
The Watch Wizard waved bemusedly as Scorpius stalked past, and I threw him an apologetic smile.
“OI!” yelled another Watch-Wizard. “You haven’t been checked! Get back here!”
We broke into a sprint, dodging the Stunning Spells he sent after us. I slipped and stumbled as we ran, having to lean on Astoria for support. More wizards were emerging, racing after us as they brandished their wands haphazardly.
Then we were on the shore, the salty tang of the sea scratching my nostrils. The boat was still waiting for us. Scorpius ushered us down below deck again, pulling the tiny lace drapes that hung by the window shut and locking the door. Then he turned to face his invisible parents, who I could sense were a couple of inches to my left.
“As soon as we’re back on land, we have to leave our home.”