“What are we supposed to do now?” yelped Albus, looking at a large green serpent.
“I... I don’t know,” admitted Scorpius. “Dad didn’t mention what to do once we opened the secret passageway.”
Albus was still frantically trying to shoo away the snakes that were slithering towards his trainers. Scorpius was looking back at the sealed entrance. “I guess we have to go through the snakes,” he admitted, miserably.
“But they’re everywhere! I can’t go another step without walking on them!”
“There must be a way to get through them... Umm, Albus? I think the ring is hissing at me!”
The old ring had begun to glow and the silver serpent unwound itself from Scorpius’s hand. It grew, emerald eyes flashing, winding itself up Scorpius’s wrist and eventually falling to the dungeon floor, then it began to slither along in front of the boys, hissing all the while. The sea of snakes immediately parted before the glowing silver adder.
“Quick! Let’s follow it!” exclaimed Scorpius.
Albus followed down the dark tunnel, trying to ignore the piles of snakes on either side of them. “It must be telling them something in Parseltongue!”
“Any idea what?” asked Scorpius.
“Hopefully something about not biting or touching us.”
“That would be rather helpful.”
“Why did it have to be snakes?” whined Albus.
“I suppose because the snake is Slytherin’s symbol, and it’s his escape tunnel,” replied Scorpius, a bit distracted.
“I don’t like snakes,” moaned Albus.
“Well, at least it wasn’t Gryffindor’s great escape tunnel. I know I’d rather a bunch of snakes to lions.” Scorpius had never really minded snakes.
“I would have preferred this be Hufflepuff’s brilliant idea and just have a bunch of furry little badgers running around our feet.”
“I’m not sure badgers are much friendlier than lions,” Scorpius pointed out.
“It would still be better than walking through a tunnel that’s probably creepier than the Chamber of Secrets!”
“Oh, right! That was mentioned in Hogwarts, A History,” answered Scorpius eagerly.
“My mum and dad were in it,” replied Albus, a glimmer of pride overshadowing his nervousness.
“Really?” asked Scorpius, obviously interested.
“Yeah, back in Mum’s first year, she had been kidnapped and dragged down there, so Dad and Uncle Ron went down to rescue her...”
“Your Auntie Hermione didn’t go too?” Scorpius had noticed that in most of the stories he’d heard about Mr Potter, Rosie’s parents were also involved.
“She couldn’t; she was Petrified.”
“She’s that scared of snakes?” asked Scorpius. He found it hard to believe that such a celebrated hero of the war was afraid of anything so harmless.
“No,” scoffed Albus. “She wasn’t petrified from being scared; she was Petrified as a curse from seeing a Basilisk’s reflection in a mirror.” He sighed. “It’s a long story.”
Scorpius grinned. “I think I have a few minutes to spare.”
By the time Albus had finished telling the tale of his parents’ adventure, they were approaching the end of the tunnel. To the boy’s surprise they found themselves just outside the school’s walls. Albus turned just in time to see the tunnel reseal itself, perfectly hidden until it would be required again. Meanwhile, Scorpius was bending down to pick up the ancient ring; as he put his hand out, the silver snake curled around his arm and began to shrink eventually wrapping itself around Scorpius’s finger, as it became solid once more.
“I never thought I’d be so happy to be outside!” announced Albus. “I think that’s the way to the Smith mansion!”
“Are you sure?”
Albus studied their surroundings critically. “Well, the sun’s setting that way, so if the Forest is on that side... Hogsmeade is this way, and so is the Smith’s place.”
The two boys hurried in the direction Albus had pointed out, without noticing the pair of glowing eyes following them.
Neville Longbottom studied his copy of the Marauder’s Map carefully, his coffee left untouched upon his desk. He’d looked everywhere he could think of and neither Albus Potter nor Scorpius Malfoy seemed to be within the castle. Had they discovered a secret passageway that the marauder’s never had? It seemed unlikely. Granted, Harry and Ron had managed to discover the Chamber of Secrets while only in their second year. Still, if the two boys were merely exploring the school, why hadn’t they brought Fred and James along?
Fred and James currently seemed to be occupied at the top of the staircase to the Great Hall. Judging by the vigorous movement of the dots, they were now being most enthusiastically pursued by Mr Seward and Professor Macmillan. Neville couldn’t help but sigh at the sight. He guessed he had approximately ten minutes before his miscreants arrived at his office. He really didn’t want to have to meet with Macmillan tonight. Dealing with Mr Seward was trying enough; the man had done an excellent job of replacing Filch after his retirement.
Neville continued to scour the map for any sign of Albus or Scorpius; he was beginning to have a bad feeling about their seeming absence. Once he saw the dots of Fred and James being escorted towards his office by the dots of his colleagues, he quickly hid the tattered piece of parchment in a desk drawer, pulling out a stack of fourth year assignments that needed grading.
A sharp rap at the door indicated that his guests had arrived. Neville sighed again before answering, “Come in!”
He was already running out of ideas for creative detentions for the two boys and they were only in their second year. Professor Macmillan was holding a squirming James Potter by the ear, while Mr Seward had an iron grip on Fred Weasley’s left arm. All four carried the distinctive aroma of Dungbombs.
“Professor Macmillan, Mr Seward, boys, to what do I owe the pleasure?” asked Neville in the most pleasant tone he could manage, while giving each a curt nod.
“Since these troublemakers are in your house, I thought you ought to be the one to supervise their detentions,” snapped Macmillan.
Neville’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Certainly, Professor. Now, what is it that they’re being punished for?”
Mr Seward’s eyes bulged slightly. “Are you daft? Can’t you smell that stench?!”
Neville tried not to roll his eyes. “Yes, Mr Seward, unfortunately I can smell it. However, I was merely trying to establish if Mr Potter and Mr Weasley had only been caught throwing Dungbombs, or if they had managed to further add to the list of incidents that I will be writing to their parents about.” Here, Neville did his level best to give both the boys a stern look.
Mr Seward shifted uncomfortably. “Er, no. It was just the Dungbombs, er, Professor Longbottom.”
“Have you already taken points?” Neville asked casually.
“Twenty,” replied Macmillan. At the courteous nod from Professor Longbottom he added, “Each.”
“I would have thought that it ought to be twenty-five, but since you feel twenty is sufficient, I certainly won’t argue,” replied Neville.
Macmillan was unable to mask the sour look on his face. “Well, what are you going to do about their detentions?”
“I haven’t decided yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” replied Neville cheerfully.
“I expect them to be properly disciplined,” added the Potions master with an air of haughtiness.
“If you’re concerned I’ll be too lenient, by all means, feel free to assign them detention yourself,” offered Neville, with the faint hope that he would be spared trying to think of something after all.
“I’m already supervising enough detentions of your unruly students,” snapped Professor Macmillan. “If you can’t properly discipline your own house…”
“Which students?” interrupted Neville.
“Malfoy and Potter; they were completely disruptive in class today; tardiness, talking back, disrespectful…”
“What are they doing for detention?” asked Professor Longbottom. He was quite certain he’d already checked all the normal detention rooms for the two missing boys.
“Sorting Flobberworms.”
“Where?” Surely Macmillan hadn’t been so idiotic as to send the Potter and Malfoy boys into the Forest. Even Ernie couldn’t possibly be that thick.
“In the Potions class, where else?” asked the now thoroughly confused Potions master.
Neville dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “When did you last check on them?”
Professor Macmillan looked slightly uncomfortable. “Well, it was a large tub of Flobberworms… I suppose it’s been a few hours since I left them.”
“Albus and Scorpius had to show up at six o’clock,” volunteered Fred.
“For their completely undeserved and unfair detention,” added James, still glaring at his captor.
“I don’t have to justify my decisions to a second year student, particularly one who’s nearly failing my class and just broke school rules,” snapped Professor Macmillan.
“Forget about that, has anyone seen Albus or Scorpius in the past three hours?” asked Neville urgently.
“Well, no, but they’re perfectly safe in the Potions classroom.”
“Only if they’re actually still there,” argued Neville, who was almost certain that they weren’t.
“Of course they are,” replied Professor Macmillan. “They couldn’t have simply wandered off; I took the precaution of locking them in.”
“You what?!” demanded Professor Longbottom.
Meanwhile, Scorpius and Albus were approaching the Smith home. The boys had to crawl through a small hedge to gain access to the grounds, however, this didn’t prove overly difficult after their adventure in Slytherin’s tunnel. The sun had finished setting and a nearly full moon had risen, illuminating the mansion’s elegant white columns. A few windows shone with a soft light, contrasting with the dark ivy that grew up around them.
“How are we going to get inside?” whispered Scorpius, still crawling through the shrubbery.
“Maybe through a window?” suggested Albus.
Scorpius pointed to one of the highest windows, also one of the few with a light on. “I bet that’s where they’ve got Rosie.”
“Why?”
Scorpius shrugged. “I dunno. Isn’t that how it goes in the stories? It’s always either the highest room in the tallest part of the place or the deepest darkest bit of the bottom of the cellar.”
“Well, I’ve had enough of tunnels for a lifetime; let’s try the top window then. Even if she isn’t in that room, we’ll still be inside. Besides, I think I can climb that tree next to it.”
“I wish I had my broomstick here, it would make this a lot easier,” sighed Scorpius, craning his neck as he looked up into the branches of the massive oak.
“Give me a boost?” asked Albus, rubbing his hands together.
“Sure.” Scorpius put his wand in his pocket then cupped his hands. Albus placed his right foot onto them and grasped for the lowest branch then furrowed his brow.
“What is it?” Scorpius asked.
“It’s what you said about your broom,” began Albus.
“Well, it doesn’t make much difference, it’s not like I was allowed to take it to Hogwarts even,” pointed out Scorpius.
“No, about it being easier. Don’t you think it should have been harder to get in here? Like shouldn’t the grounds be guarded or have jinxes or something?”
Before Scorpius could answer, a deep familiar voice behind them answered, “As a matter of fact, they are.”
Scorpius’s wand was still in his pocket and Albus was hanging from a tree. Two men in hooded cloaks stepped out of the shadows. Scorpius never even had a chance to yell before the jet of red light hit him.