“How the hell can you eat, Johnson? You must have shipped down far more of that stuff than me.”
“Stone-lined stomach,” Vaisey muttered and belched.
“Merlin, you’re repulsive! I’m starting to regret moving back in with you.”
Vaisey grinned. “Where are the fifth years this morning?”
“No idea, but Rokeby’s still trying to get the smell of puke out of his trunk,” Scorpius replied. He started to laugh, but stopped because it made his head hurt. “Do you think Madam Bones will give me something to help?”
“Nope,” Vaisey replied cheerily, adding in a voice reminiscent of the matron. “Self-inflicted, Mr Malfoy.”
“I bet she’d dish something out if one of the girls asked her,” Scorpius grumbled and glanced across to the Gryffindor table where Rose was looking remarkably perky. “She was as out of it as a Flobberworm last night. I saw her sharing wine with Macmillan.”
“Probably magicked up a potion,” Vaisey said and yawned. “You know what the Head Girl’s like “ everything prepared in advance.” He carried on eating, mopping up his egg yolk with a slice of fried bread; Scorpius felt his insides churn and reached for some orange juice. “Anyway, why are you up so early, Malfoy? You could have stayed in bed.”
“My granddad’s will is being read and I’m ‘required to attend’,” he muttered, quoting the official letter he’d received on Saturday morning.
“Will he have left you a lot?” Vaisey asked bluntly.
Scorpius shrugged. “No idea. There’s some crap associated with the estate. I should be getting a wedge when I’m twenty-one, or if I marry, but that doesn’t have anything to do with Granddad’s personal will. Dad’s the heir, I expect it will all go to him on the proviso he looks after Grandma.”
He spoke casually, hoping Vaisey didn’t realise quite how nervous he was feeling about today’s meeting. He was required to go to the Ministry of Magic at eleven o’clock, and as Professor Zabini would be teaching at that time, Scorpius was going alone. Mrs Zabini had offered to accompany him, but he’d politely declined knowing that her presence as both a half-blood “ who had tainted a pure-blood line “ and a journalist was likely to set his grandmother into paroxysms of rage before they even made it to Mrs Weasley’s office.
He frowned as he thought about the location of the meeting. When asked, Rose had looked puzzled and told him that as far as she knew wills were normally read out at the convenience of the heirs and at their home. A reading at the Ministry and by Madam Weasley, no less, seemed to indicate that this was an important matter.
“Good morning!” called a chirpy voice in his ear.
Scorpius groaned and slowly turned his head to see Lily grinning at him as she stood with her friends. “Have we got a bad head this morning?”
“I have no idea about the state of yours,” he complained, “but I feel as if I’ve been clubbed on the head by a Troll.”
She laughed. “You had a good time then?”
“So-so. And you?” he asked, hoping her girls’ night only in her dormitory had been just that.
“Lots of fun with make-up and face packs,” she declared airily. “And apart from Cherylanne insisting on singing that awful cover of the Weird Sisters song over and over, it was good.”
“I only sang that to stop you talking about your boyfriend,” Cherylanne replied waspishly and started to walk towards the Gryffindor table. “Lily, come on, you can mess around with Malfoy later.”
But as Lily began to follow, Scorpius caught her hand and drew her down to his lap, despite the fact that Vaisey and the other Slytherins were looking boot-faced at her presence there. “I’ve got the will reading today,” he murmured, “so not sure what time I’ll be back, but maybe we could meet up later.”
“Mmm, I’d like that. What do you suggest?”
He grinned at her, knowing she was thinking he was about to suggest a deserted classroom for a quick bunk-up, or another sortee into the Prefect’s Bathroom “ and, yes, he would have liked that, but on the other hand ...
“How about we take my Firebolt out?”
“Perfect!” she exclaimed, and in a move he knew was partly to annoy the Slytherins, and especially Ariadne who was glowering at them, she kissed him thoroughly before sliding off his lap and darting to her table.
“That girl is going to get you into a lot of trouble,” muttered Vaisey. “And I don’t mean with the teachers.”
Leaning over the table, Scorpius helped himself to a slice of toast, and smirked as he remembered Saturday afternoon and a very satisfactory meeting in the changing rooms. “She already has, Johnson. But it’s worth it.”
The room at the Ministry set aside for their meeting was obviously Madam Weasley’s private office. That much could be evinced by the set of photographs on her desk featuring not just Rose and Hugo, but a large beaming man that Scorpius recognised as her husband. It was a tidy desk, and the shelves behind were arranged neatly. It wasn’t alphabetical, he realised, but he was pretty sure there was a method attached to Madam Weasley’s filing system.
He’d arrived ten minutes ahead of time, hoping he could take his seat and act nonchalant when he saw his family, but when he’d entered the office, both his parents and his grandmother were already seated.
“Nice of you to turn up,” his father said curtly. Then he did a double take, looking him up and down. “You look bloody awful. Have you been fighting again?”
“Only with a bottle of Aunt Daphne’s tequila,” Scorpius replied smoothly. “I’m afraid it won.”
“Drinking,” his grandmother said archly. “I might have known.”
“I was celebrating the end of my exams, Grandma,” he snapped back. “I did particularly well in my Defence against the Dark Arts practical and managed to conjure a corporeal Patronus. Would you like to know the form it took?”
“I presume you’re going to tell us whether we ask or not,” Draco said, sounding on edge. Beside him, Astoria removed her hand from his and gestured for Scorpius to sit in the chair next to her. He did so, but pulled it further away.
“I’d like to know, darling,” she said. “That’s quite an achievement even at N.E.W.T. level.”
“It’s a vixen,” Scorpius replied, loading his voice with irony. “They have a lot of red fur. Funny that, isn’t it?”
Before his father could answer, or his grandma do anything other than fix an icy glare on him, the door opened and Madam Weasley entered the room.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” she said, not sounding in the least remorseful as she sat behind her desk. “I had a few last minute issues with another case “ fortunately not as complex as this one, but distracting all the same.”
“Yes, yes, Granger, we get that you’re important and you’re deigning to see us,” Draco said sarcastically.
“It’s Weasley, now,” she remarked placidly. “Although you, Malfoy, may call me Madam, if you’d rather.”
A small sound like a giggle appeared to emanate from his mum, and as Scorpius looked at her, he could see her covering her mouth with her fist.
Unperturbed by his grandmother’s expression of disgust that her son was being treated in this manner, Hermione Weasley withdrew two large scrolls from her briefcase, and set them on the desk in front of here.
“I apologise, also, for the delay in reading the will of the deceased,” she said calmly. “As you probably know, all wills are studied by the Ministry for twenty-eight days, and then the probate begins. However, there were certain irregularities that we needed to investig-”
“My father had no more Dark Artefacts,” Draco interrupted. “The whole of Malfoy Manor was thoroughly searched as a condition of us not being sent to Azkaban. You know this, Granger, so what is the irregularity? Unless it’s just a desire to hack me off.”
She smiled wintrily at him, and then her eyes flickered towards Narcissa before settling back on Draco. “I have no desire to annoy you, Malfoy. You are quite right that the ‘irregularities’ had nothing to do with the personal possessions in the will, but rather to do with an amendment, which required the department to search for the Malfoy Estate documents.”
She turned to Narcissa. “Madam Malfoy, I believe you were present when the deceased added a codicil to his will.”
“That is correct,” she replied stiffly. “It was shortly after Easter. My husband wished to change something.” She glared at Scorpius, who felt his heart start to thump.
“Yes, I can see that,” Madam Weasley replied, and turned to Scorpius. “Your grandfather added a clause in his will concerning your entitlement from the estate. I understand you’re entitled to a legacy amounting to fifty thousand Galleons when you turn twenty-one, or if you marry.” Scorpius nodded. “Your grandfather wished to change this. He couldn’t alter the amount or remove you from the Malfoy legacy, but he did add a clause saying that in the event of you marrying a non pure-blood, then all monies would be returned to the estate.”
“WHAT!” Scorpius stood up, suddenly roused to anger, his hangover forgotten as he faced his dad. “You knew this, didn’t you? That’s why you kept telling me to call it off with Lily. What the hell!”
“Sit down!” Draco ordered. “I had no idea about this, Scorpius, although it seems logical given my understanding of the inheritance of our ancestral home.”
His mother touched his hand, and slowly Scorpius sat back down again. Fifty thousand Galleons “ Merlin, it was a lot to give up.
“Ah yes,” Madam Weasley continued, and smiled again, this time taking in Scorpius. “That brings me to the second irregularity. On reading Lucius Malfoy’s last will and testament, I dug out the estate documents which detail the line of succession and the inheritance of the Manor.” She licked her lips and took a sip of water before continuing. “Malfoy Manor can only be inherited by pure-bloods. Anyone who marries out or has a child with a non pure-blood is automatically disinherited.”
“And where is the irregularity in that?” Narcissa questioned. “It has been a requirement for generations, and there is nothing you can do about it.”
Madam Weasley raised one eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, she turned to Draco. “The irregularity is that this document was tampered with fairly recently. None of the wording has been altered. We’ve run stringent tests on it, which is why this has taken so long, but someone certainly broke the seal on the scroll and read the details.”
“What difference does it make if nothing has been altered?” Draco demanded.
“Are you telling me that if I marry out or have a kid with a half-blood then I can’t inherit anything?” Scorpius interjected, trying to make sense of these revelations. She nodded at him, a small sympathetic smile on her face. “That’s outrageous!”
“It makes a difference because it is irregular, Malfoy, and that type of thing always puzzles me,” Madam Weasley replied. She turned her attention back to Scorpius. “Sorry, it is an odd quirk of mine to always look much deeper than strictly necessary. Besides, I haven’t said you can’t inherit anything. It was merely your grandfather’s intention.”
He saw his grandmother’s look of bewilderment and wondered if it mirrored his own. “My husband had a perfect right to dispose of his money in any way he thought fit. He was the head of the Malfoy family, after all.”
“Oh yes, I know that, Madam Malfoy,” Hermione said softly. “The thing is, that under 2010 Equality in Blood-Status Act, wills are no longer allowed to exempt someone from an entitlement based on their blood status. You, Scorpius , could marry a ... a ... Thestral, and you would still be entitled to the money because you are a legitimate Malfoy heir. Your grandfather was badly advised when he added the codicil.” She smiled again, and this time he saw a hint of mischief in her eyes. “If the deceased hadn’t added the part about marrying a pure-blood, but had delayed the legacy until you were thirty, citing your irresponsibility “ or something, then it could well have escaped my notice and would have got through, but he didn’t.”
“What about Malfoy Manor?” Astoria asked, speaking for the first time. “Is Scorpius still the heir?”
Madam Weasley took a breath and twisted a smile at Astoria. “At the moment, yes, he is, but unfortunately, I cannot apply the law retrospectively. Scorpius, if you do marry a non pure-blood, then as it stands, I’m afraid you lose all claim to Malfoy Manor.”
“The old bastard,” Scorpius murmured and slumped back in his chair.
His grandmother smiled triumphantly. “My husband had proper pride. The Malfoys always did.” She stood up, her head held high, and turned to her son. “Draco, I wish to return to the Manor now that this sordid business has ended. As your examinations are finished, Scorpius, I expect you to leave Hogwarts early and join us.” She smiled at him, mockingly. “Fifty thousand Galleons is nothing compared to the Manor. You’ll soon see sense.”
“You can go bollocks!” Scorpius exclaimed. “There’s no way I’m putting up with your matchmaking attempts.”
“Scorpius, perhaps it’s best you do as your grandmother “” his mum whispered.
“You as well! ” he shouted, outraged and hurt that his only ally was turning against him. “Thanks, Mum, I thought you were on my side.”
“It’s a stupid infatuation,” she said. “You’ll have broken up with her in weeks. She’s only sixteen.”
“Like you were when Dad knocked you up,” he replied rudely.
“Don’t you DARE speak to your mother like that!” Draco roared, reaching across and grabbing Scorpius by his robe lapels.
“Enough!” Madam Weasley ordered, rapping her hand hard on the desk, and brandishing her wand. “Malfoy, you will not start anything in my office, unless you want me to finish it.” His father’s hand twitched on his robe as he glanced across to her. “Do not tempt me, Draco, you know what I can do!”
Draco stared at Scorpius, his grey eyes flickering coldly. Then he released him and, taking his mother’s arm, stormed out of the office. After shooting him an exasperated look, but saying nothing, Astoria followed, leaving Scorpius alone with Madam Weasley.
“Thanks,” he muttered, “but I could have handled Dad.”
“Mmm, no doubt,” she replied, “but I didn’t want my files caught in the crossfire.”
“Is it true about the money? It’s still mine?”
She nodded, then took another sip of her water. “How much difference would it make if you had been left disinherited?”
“Uh ...” He thought carefully, knowing he could probably lie his way out of this and Lily’s aunt would think he was a decent human being, but something about her stare unnerved him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s a lot of money to lose, especially if Lily and I might not make it past a year.”
“Indeed.”
“But -” He leant forward, hoping she’d believe he was sincere. “I don’t want them telling me how I’m supposed to live. It was what turned my father into a Death Eater. If I do what they tell me now, then I won’t have any sort of life of my own, Madam Weasley.”
“Good for you,” she replied, “and you can call me Hermione. Now how about some tea?”
He nodded, and waited whilst she called on one of her clerks to fetch a pot and two cups. “I could ask Bletchley for some of his hangover potion, if you’d like,” she teased. “You look rather like my husband after a night out with the boys.”
“End of exam celebra ... uh ...” He stopped speaking as something slid into place. “Sorry, who did you say?”
“Miles Bletchley. He’s the senior clerk in my office. Been here for years. Do you know him?”
“No, but I know his niece,” Scorpius replied grimly. “Madam ... uh ... Hermione, Ariadne Bletchley was my girlfriend. I finished with her when I started seeing Lily, but for the past few months she’s been trying to get back with me.” He smiled sheepishly. “I had thought it was my dynamic personality, but um ... if he was the one that tampered with the estate document ...”
“You think he told his brother?” Hermione asked.
“Well, it would explain why she’s been running after me,” he finished lamely, unsure she believed him.
“It would indeed, although I believe my niece is enamoured of your ‘dynamic personality’,” she said, with a warm smile that made her seem a lot less intimidating. “Thank you, Scorpius. That has been very helpful. Tell me, are you going to take the clerk position with Harry?”
“Well, it looks like my best option,” he muttered. “I’ve not given him an answer yet, though.”
“His office is the next floor up,” she replied. “You could give him the news now. I never really saw the appeal of the Auror Department, but I think it will suit you very well.”
It was nearly the end of the year and the June sunshine shone down on the grounds of Hogwarts giving those students who had no lessons, plenty of time to idle away the hours together. Scorpius and Lily were lying on the grass, staring at the largely cloudless sky and simply enjoying being in each other’s company.
“Scorpius,” Lily murmured.
“Mmm,” he replied, turning his face towards hers and noticing she had rather a serious expression on her face. “What’s up?”
“This business with Malfoy Manor...”
“I told you, Lily. It doesn’t concern you. I could easily just refuse to get married and not have any children. That way I could inherit the Manor and then burn the bloody place down.”
“No, it’s not that,” she said. “I just wondered what would happen if you were disinherited. I mean, who would inherit?”
Scorpius shrugged. “Nearest pure-blood Malfoy relations. Dad’s an only child, though, and Granddad’s brother died without having any children. I think there’s a dotty aunt somewhere, but she was never talked about. Probably married a Muggleborn like Andromeda.”
“So if there’s no pure-blood relative, what happens next?”
Scorpius yawned. “Not really sure. Your aunt seemed to think it would go to the Ministry and they’d sell it off.” He propped himself up on one elbow and grinned down at her. “Are you going to start saving up, baby Potter?” he teased, and started to kiss her.
“Don’t call me that, Scorpy,” she murmured, but kissed him back.
Sliding his hands to her waist, Scorpius pulled her close until he was half lying on top of her and nuzzled her neck. “Are you going off me now I’m not necessarily the heir to a huge manor?”
“Yes,” she breathed, sliding her hand onto his thigh and laughing when he groaned. “Can’t you tell?”
“If you don’t stop doing that,” he muttered, “then it’s going to take more than Mrs Zabini and her water jet to break us up.”
Lily laughed and pushed him off. “We could swim in the lake. That will cool you down.”
“I don’t want to cool down,” he called after her, as she wandered down to lakeshore stripping off her t-shirt and shorts to reveal her flowery bikini. “And you wearing that particular outfit doesn’t help at all!”
She waved to him from the waters’ edge, then broached the lake, swimming with bold strokes. Steadily he got to his feet and stripped to his shorts. “I forgot to tell you,” he said, wading out to her. “I got an invitation to Teddy’s wedding in the post this morning. He even said I could bring a guest.”
“Are you going to?” she asked as she floated on her back her long red hair splayed out like a mermaid’s.
“Nah,” he replied, and grinned. “Thought I’d try my luck with the bridesmaid.”
“Dominique is choosy,” Lily said. “And I don’t think she goes for blonds.”
“Well it’s a bloody good job that it’s the gobby redhead I fancy, isn’t it?” he mocked, and diving under the water he swam underneath her, surfacing on her other side.
“Bloody good job,” she agreed, treading water in front of him.
He reached across and smoothed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “I wish you weren’t going away,” he muttered. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Me too,” she sighed. “But it’s only for two weeks, and you’ll be busy looking for a place to live.”
“Yes, I know,” he replied, thinking of the task ahead. Since accepting the clerk’s position and informing his mum that he would be starting his job in August, the complete lack of reaction from her, or the rest of his family, had irritated Scorpius. Their London house had been sold and his belongings were currently boxed up at Malfoy Manor, where his parents had taken over residence. Astoria had written to him, moaning about the colour scheme and her plans to landscape the garden, but she had not asked after Lily or congratulated him on the job. Instead, she seemed to be sticking her head in the sand and ignoring anything remotely disagreeable. As this was his mum, who had never been backwards at poking the proverbial rattlesnake, he wondered if something was wrong, or whether this was just part of a greater plan.
“This time tomorrow, we’ll be on the train,” Lily said, interrupting his thoughts. “It will be your last trip. Are you going to miss it?”
“It’s been part of my life for seven years, Lily. Of course I will,” he replied, then grinned at her. “I thought I might break with tradition and sit with the Gryffindors. Do you think that will be okay?”
“Wonderful,” she said. “You can rescue me from Harry Cootes.”
“Lily Luna Potter, when you’ve quite finished, I’d like to get home!” Ginny Potter’s voice rang out across platform nine-and-three-quarters.
“Mum,” Lily wailed as Scorpius reluctantly released her. “We’re not going to see each other for ages.”
“Two weeks, Lily,” Ginny replied scornfully, taking her arm. She smiled at Scorpius. “We’re only in France, so I’m sure my daughter will send you a postcard, and we’ll see you at the wedding, if not before.”
“Thanks, Mrs Potter,” he replied, relinquishing his hold on Lily’s other arm, but quickly giving her another kiss and ignoring her mother’s rolled eyes. “Have fun,” he whispered, “and I’ll see you in two weeks.”
As Lily sighed and walked off with her mum, brother and cousins, Scorpius stared after her, watching until at last she’d disappeared through the barrier. Then, dragging his trunk across to the side of the platform, he dug out a list of addresses given to him by the Ministry.
“Sorry I’m late, darling. I was hideously delayed in Twilfit and Tattings. You would not believe the mess they’ve made of the new curtains I ordered. Have you been waiting long?”
He looked up to see his mum standing in front of him. “Uh, hello. I wasn’t expecting to see you,” Scorpius replied and awkwardly bent his head to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Don’t be silly. Of course I want to meet the train. And your father would have as well, only he’s stuck with some extremely tedious estate business.”
“Why are you here, though?” Scorpius asked. “I thought I’d told you that I’m moving into a flat.”
“Did you?” she said vaguely and took the list from his hand. “You don’t appear to have actually found anything yet, darling. And some of these addresses are in the worst possible places.”
“They’re Ministry approved,” he said, trying to get the list back from her, but she tucked it away in her pocket. “Mum, I want to take a look at some of them.”
“It’s six o’clock in the evening, Scorpius. I don’t think anyone’s going to let you look around now.”
“Well, I was going to book into the Leaky Cauldron for a night or two.”
Astoria raised her eyebrows. “You have money to burn then, darling? Only I’m sure you haven’t been paid before you start your little job, have you?”
“I have money,” he said haughtily, jingling the Galleons in his pocket that Fred had given him for the information. “And it’s in the Auror department, so that’s hardly a ‘little job’, is it?”
Astoria sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just don’t want it to be like this with you and your father not talking. Living at Malfoy Manor with your grandmother in situ is a nightmare and I could really do with your support.”
“Mum,” he complained, “I can’t live at the Manor. You know what she’ll be like.”
“Just for a few days,” Astoria pleaded. “Come on, Scorpius, I’ll even help you look for a place to live.”
He closed his eyes, knowing when he was beaten. “Sure, lead the way.”
It was, he discovered as soon as he’d Apparated to the Manor, a monumental error on his part to have trusted his mother. He landed perfectly, in the drawing room, along with his trunk, to see his dad and grandmother sat at the table, obviously waiting for him. His grandmother clapped her hands for the house-elf, and ordered that Scorpius’ trunk should be taken to his room and unpacked. Then she commanded Scorpius to sit down.
“Why?”
“Because I say so, and we would like a chat.”
“Perhaps I don’t want to chat,” Scorpius replied and started to yawn. “It’s been a long day and you know how tiring travelling can be.”
“Sit down, Scorpius,” thundered his dad.
Scorpius sat.
“That’s better,” his grandma said smiling. “Now then, Scorpius, here are the ground rules. While you are staying in my house “ ”
“Your house?” Scorpius said and raised his eyebrows. “Sorry, I thought Dad was head of the household.”
“As I was saying,” Narcissa continued, completely ignoring him. “Whilst you are living here, you will not invite anyone without my express approval, and you will make yourself agreeable to my guests.”
“Like the Bletchleys?” Scorpius snorted. “No chance, Grandma.” He stood up and walked to the door. “I’ll tell the house-elf to stop unpacking. I’m not staying for this.”
“Oh no, Scorpius,” he heard her say in a voice that made his insides curdle. “You cannot leave here. I forbid it.”
“How are you going to stop me?” he said, then started laughing. “I can Apparate out of here with or without my trunk!” To prove his point, he turned sharply on the spot and thought of Diagon Alley ... but nothing happened.
Narcissa laughed. “There is an Anti-Apparition jinx surrounding the house, Scorpius. You cannot leave.”
“I’ll take the Floo.”
“It’s been disconnected,” she rapped.
“Then I’ll fly.”
“The house elf has already disposed of your broom, Scorpius. You will not be flying anywhere for a long time.” She turned to Draco. “Ridiculous sport, I still don’t understand why your father encouraged him.”
“You’ve destroyed my Firebolt!” Scorpius shouted, rage at this infraction burning at his gut. “How dare you! That was mine. You can’t bloody do this!”
“Yes, Scorpius,” his dad said, sounding weary and not at all triumphant. “We can do this because we think it’s in your best interests.”
“But I’m starting a job in six weeks!” Scorpius protested. “You have to let me leave for that.”
“I’ll tell Potter you’ve changed your mind,” Draco replied. “A clerk’s job isn’t good enough for a Malfoy, anyway.”
“You knew all about this, didn’t you?” Scorpius accused, turning to his mum. “All that crap at the station about helping me find a place to live. It was a lie, wasn’t it?”
She nodded, looking shamefaced, then faced him with a earnest plea in her eyes. “I want what’s best for you, Scorpius. Giving up all of this for an adolescent fling is stupid. You’re not thinking properly.”
“I’m older than you were!” he yelled. “Merlin’s fucking pants, I’m eighteen.”
“Don’t swear at your mother!” shouted his dad.
“Stop treating me like a fucking eight year old, then!” Scorpius shouted back and withdrew his wand. “You can’t keep me a prisoner like this. I’m of age!”
“Don’t be silly, Scorpius,” his grandmother said calmly, barely raising an eyebrow when he faced her. “You may go anywhere you please, as long as you stay in the confines of the Manor.”
He took a breath and stared at them all. His mum wouldn’t look at him, but his father stared back, his face implacable in the face of Scorpius’ rage.
“What would you have done, Dad, if Mum had been a half-blood or a Muggle-born?” he asked in a softer tone.
“That is immaterial,” Draco replied. “I love your mother.”
“Yeah, but would you have loved her if she’d been a ‘Mudblood’?” Scorpius spat, using the reviled term and watching as his mum flinched. “Or would you have forced her to abort me?”
“I wouldn’t have got involved with her in the first place,” Draco replied brutally. He reached out to hold Astoria’s hand, but she’d already turned away.
There was a long silence, and then Scorpius turned and left the room.
“Dinner is at eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“Eat without me. I won’t be there,” he retorted, and then stomped up to his bedroom.
He didn’t join them for dinner, despite being extremely hungry and smelling the tortuous scents of his favourite foods wafting up the stairs. But at eleven, when the hunger pangs were threatening to devour him, he crept downstairs to the kitchen.
“Any food available?” he asked the house-elf, who was scurrying about tidying up the kitchen.
He averted his eyes from Scorpius. “The mistress has said the young master is not to be given food if he doesn’t eat with the family. Biffy is not wanting the young master to go hungry,” he squeaked, but broke off and started to hammer his hand with a rolling pin.
“It’s okay, Biffy,” Scorpius said wearily. “You can stop that. I’m not going to eat anything.”
He trudged back to his room, and tried not to think of the stash of chocolate frogs he’d bought for Lily that afternoon when she’d been bemoaning the fact that French chocolate wasn’t as good as English.
“I thought one missed meal would bring you to your senses,” his grandmother remarked the next morning.
“Mmm,” Scorpius replied, piling his plate high with toast and rashers of bacon. “Obviously starving me into submission is the way to go, Grandma.” He looked round the table. “Where’s Mum?”
“Migraine,” Draco replied shortly. “You upset her last night.”
“I upset her,” Scorpius said, raising his eyebrows. “Sorry, Dad, I think the realisation that you wouldn’t have gone near her if she’d not been a pure-blood was more upsetting.” He rose from his seat. “Anyway, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m going to my room.”
“You will sit down and indulge in civilised conversation!”
“What are you going to do? Banish my food?”
As soon as he said it, the toast pile on his plate began to vanish. Hastily, he grabbed what he could in his hands and stuffed some in his mouth, then laughing, he loped away from them both and ran to his room. It wasn’t much that he’d manage to salvage, but at least he knew the score. He was supposed to attend meals with them to get enough food. This would stave off the hunger pangs for a while, but he’d have to face them both at lunch.
“We are planning a party, Scorpius. Tell me who you would like me to invite?”
“Let me think, Grandma,” he replied courteously as he started on the chicken pie. “Mmm, this is delicious. Biffy’s pie is always so good.”
“I was thinking the Bletchley girl. You like her well enough.”
He didn’t speak as he loaded his fork with food and began to eat.
“There’s also the Avery girl, from last time, and I believe the Flints have a daughter.”
“Yeah, she’s twelve, Grandma. That shouldn’t bother you, though. I expect you have a book in the library sanctioning pure-blood marriage at that age,” Scorpius murmured under his breath, stuffing more food into his mouth.
“Anyone else?” she asked, not quite hearing him
He paused, pretending to think, yet still loading his fork with food and smuggling a couple of bread rolls under his robes. “There’s the real Felicity Macmillan. She’s not bad for a Hufflepuff.” His grandma nodded approvingly. “And then there’s Lily Potter, Rose Weasley, Roxanne Weasley and ... uh ... well, why not invite Albus Potter? I’m sure you’ll get on just fine.”
Laughing, he ran out of the house and into the garden, heading for the orchard. His grandma may have been able to keep the house-elf from feeding him, but here there were fruit trees, and in July, the early apples were sweet and juicy. He plucked one from a low bough, and examined it. Green on one side, red on the other, the colours mingling in the centre, perfectly complimenting each other. He bit into it, letting the juice trickle down his chin.
“They won’t break me, Lily!” he screamed to the sky.
It was on the seventh day of his incarceration that Scorpius’ confidence started to flag. He’d managed to get enough food by raiding the orchard or answering his grandmother’s questions with just the right amount of interest, but in the afternoon of that day, he was staring out of his bedroom window when something caught his eye. It was Pomme, flying towards him, a message in his claws. Gleefully, he opened his window and prepared to write a note in response, but then something happened. He watched as Pomme tried to fly towards him, but seemed to hit something in the air. He tried flapping his wings higher, or swooping lower, but it was as if there was a barrier between Pomme and Scorpius that stopped him delivering his letter.
“Tell her it’s not my fault!” Scorpius yelled in despair, but Pomme was only an owl and couldn’t speak. He would return to her, having not delivered his message, and Lily would have no clue what was going on. He imagined her biting her lip and wondering whether to send another message. She’d said she’d write every day. What if this was not the first message, but the seventh? How long would she continue to write before giving up?
There was a knock at the door. “GO AWAY!” he yelled.
“Scorpius, it’s me,” his mum said. “Please open the door.”
“What, so you can persuade me to marry a bitch like Ariadne!”
“No,” she replied. “Because your father is overseeing something on the estate and Narcissa is having an afternoon nap. But I can’t guarantee she’ll be asleep for long.”
He shuffled over and opened the door. “What do you want?”
“To apologise, above everything,” she replied, her voice regretful.
“You helped them,” he retorted. “Merlin, I thought you of all people would understand.”
She entered the bedroom and sat on the bed, no doubt taking in the fact that Scorpius hadn’t unpacked anything. The walls of his new bedroom remained freshly painted but without posters. Clothes hung in his wardrobe, but they were new and not the ones he particularly liked wearing. His books, unpacked by Biffy, had been thrown back in his trunk. Scorpius refused to make this his home and he hoped his mum could see that.
“I didn’t want you to lose out,” she muttered. “I want everything for you, Scorpius.”
“So me being imprisoned here and forced to marry someone is okay because Malfoy Manor’s attached.”
She sighed and very slowly leant forwards to smooth his hair from his face. “No, it’s not. I realise that now. Malfoy Manor is your father’s dream and mine, but it doesn’t have to be yours.”
“It’s too late though, isn’t it?” he said bitterly. “Grandma and Dad have stopped me from going anywhere and even Lily’s owl can’t get through. I can’t escape from this. It’s no good.”
She smiled lopsidedly at him, and then took a breath. “You can with help,” she whispered.
“What sort of help?”
“Truckle is in the kitchen,” she replied. “Narcissa and your dad don’t know she’s here.”
His eyes widened, and a smile “ the first proper one for days “ lilted on his lips. “She can get me out of here, can’t she?”
“Yes, she can,” Astoria replied. “You can go wherever you want, but don’t send her back. The old bat will hex her to bits if she finds out.”
“What about you? Do you want to come with me?”
Astoria smiled at him and held him close. “Your father takes careful managing, darling. I’ve learnt that much after eighteen years. I will be fine because when it comes down to it, he loves me. And he also loves you “ very much.”
“Really?”
“He just can’t show it right now,” she said as she squeezed his hand, adding briskly, “Right, I suggest you only pack the basics and then go and find Truckle.”
Truckle Apparated him exactly where he needed to go. After stuffing a bag with some clothes and a few books (and cursing the fact that he couldn’t find his Firebolt), he’d given her an address and they’d turned up on the porch, hammering on the door.
“Okay, okay, where’s the fire!” yelled a voice from inside.
Scorpius stood there, relieved when the door opened and Teddy answered, naked except for a towel around his waist. “Merlin, great timing, cousin,” he grumbled, but all the same let him and Truckle in.
“Sorry, I needed somewhere to run to and didn’t know who else I could trust,” Scorpius muttered.
“Sounds serious,” Teddy replied thoughtfully.
“Yeah, it is,” Scorpius said. He was about to tell him the whole story when a female entered the room.
“Teddy,” said the witch, wearing a matching towel. “Are you coming back to “” She stopped and blushed. “Sorry, I didn’t realise we had company.”
“Victoire, this is Scorpius. Scorpius this is Victoire,” replied Teddy, making the introductions. “I have no idea who the house-elf is, but she seems to have disappeared anyway.”
A clatter from the area of the flat that Scorpius remembered as the kitchen, made him grin. “That’s Truckle. I think you’ll find she’s tidying up.”
“Fantastic!” Victoire exclaimed. “Scorpius, I like you already.”