Draco stood in the corner of the ruin of St. Michael’s Church. Trying to calm his nerves, he gripped and re-gripped the wand in his left hand as he leaned further back so that the sun’s first rays would not find him yet. He had arrived an hour early to check if there was someone lying in wait to snatch him. After he had searched the area around the ruin, he had set alarm spells around the structure to announce the appearance of other wand carriers in the area. Why had he agreed to meet Goyle, at all, let alone at the top of this tor was beyond him.

He had reluctantly let Goyle enter into his shop on Friday. In a fifteen minute monologue, Goyle had told Draco that he had enough evidence that could re-open the investigation into Draco’s role in allowing the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. At the time, Draco’s part had been overlooked as the authorities focused on Snape and on Dumbledore’s death. He also mentioned about an opportunity for a well-connected potion maker to make large amounts of untraceable, quick-and-easy money. Finally, he had also in passing mentioned something about Scorpius and the mystery at Hogwarts. What had concerned Draco was that Goyle had known details of what had happened to the Quince family that had not been in the Daily Prophet. He knew things that Astoria had only learned from Hannah Longbottom.

After Goyle had finished having his say, he had shouted to the back of the shop, “Astoria, say hello to your sister. Tell her if she ever wants to leave that half-blood scum she’s living with for a real man, let me know.� And with a guttural chuckle, he had left Draco behind with the lingering body odor that was the only evidence of his ever being there.

Draco closed his eyes for a second and, just as fatigue began to tug on the edges of his mind, four, maybe five, distinct gong sounds rang through the tower. Draco nodded; leave it to Goyle to not come alone as they agreed upon. Draco cursed himself for his not bringing his own back up. The only person who knew where he was currently was Astoria and Goyle probably had her under observation. He should have left a note or something at The Leaky Cauldron just in case the meeting went wrong. Damnit Draco, when did you get so f’ing trusting? I’ve spent too long away from my father. The old bastard kept me sharp, spending time with Longbottoms and Weasleys has left me soft and vulnerable.

Goyle stepped into the tower; he was still wearing the stained overcloak. He had also not bathed. The wand in his right hand was already pointing into the corner in which Draco stood. A high pitched male voice called from outside, “No back-up, visible or not.�

“No back-up. You’ve gotten old and sloppy Malfoy,� he said, as he gave a grin akin to a jackal eying an injured antelope.

Draco couldn’t let that comment pass, “Well at least I didn’t get fat, like some.�

“Good. Good, that’s the Draco I remember,� answered Goyle. “That’s the Draco who would jump at the chance to take part.�

“The Draco you speak of is gone; he was afraid and unsure of himself. I’m neither. So tell me what you want, or get the hell out of my way so I can get back to something important, like my business.�

Draco had hoped his comment would bluff his way out of the mess he’d gotten himself into. Instead it seemed to be exactly what Goyle wanted to hear.

“There’s an once-in-a-lifetime chance, Malfoy. People like me are leaderless, like a bloody ship without a rudder. For the first time in quarter of a century, there is no arse on the throne. And with a little of your help, I can seize the power, before Potter or his lap dog Weasley tumble to it and try to step in and stop me,� Goyle said. His voice was breathy and he talked in a sing-song way that made Draco wonder if he knew where he was going.

“What are you on about?� he asked, for information and to bide for time.

“Mundungus Fletcher is dead and the old men who supported him have buggered off,� Goyle smiled. “And someone will need to take control of the people in the trade, like Dung did. Mediating turf fights, helping organize big scores, and skimming a fat percentage off of everybody’s take for his own purse.�

“I still don’t see what you need me for,� Draco replied, hiding a flicker of panic caused by the realization that if he said no; Goyle might kill him here and now just to keep him silent.

“Let’s just say we need a new potion maker. Someone who can purchase ingredients like lacewing flies and Boomslang skins without tipping off the Aurors.�

“Surely you can get everything you need for Polyjuice without me,� Draco answered, seeing the trap before him looming.

“Maybe, but would I trust them to brew it? Not a chance,� Goyle replied. “Now a man with a pretty wife and a young son who can be reached twenty-four seven, I’d trust him.�

Draco gave an involuntary swallow and was angry with himself for the show of weakness. “I’ll have to talk to Astoria; she’s the master potion maker. Also, Polyjuice potion takes time to brew. I won’t be able to get you any for months.�

Goyle seemed to think it through. The jackal’s smile returned “I’ll be outside the shop a half hour before opening Tuesday when you’ll give me the answer I want.�

Draco held Goyle’s gaze. He had been weak once. If he showed weakness twice, it might be fatal. Goyle shouted, “Time to go boy-ohs.� Then he turned and was gone. He was alone.

Draco stepped back into his corner and leaned against the stone walls for support. He had to decide. He could not leave this up to Astoria. She would go running to Potter or attempt to go it alone, trusting to luck.

Draco bit his lower lip as he reviewed his limited options. He could not come up with an angle to get out of helping Goyle. He also couldn’t know how much what Goyle said was true or just the fancy of a whisky-addled mind. Was Fletcher really dead? Could Goyle really pull off his power play? He needed someone with contacts in the underworld, but also someone he could talk to without raising flags in the Ministry. He needed someone who knew the score and would be ruthless in his analysis and tactics. He needed someone with experience playing both sides against the middle. He needed to go to the Manor and talk with his father.

Saturday morning Scorpius awoke just as the first light of the dawn began to shine into the window, he rolled over away from the window and tried to return to sleep. The sleep did not come. He went to the loo and returned to bed but there was still no sleep to be found. After almost a half an hour, he gave up.

When Scorpius sat up to get dressed, he saw a pair of eyes watching him through the bed draperies. Jimber was wide awake. As Jimber undid his curtains, Albus rolled over to face his two friends.

“Is it too early for breakfast?� whispered Albus as he looked over to the bed in the corner at sleeping lump of Harold Baird.

“It’s always time for breakfast,� answered Jimber as he began dressing.

“How can you eat? Aren’t you nervous?� asked Scorpius to his friend.

“How can I eat? How can you not eat? I’m starved,� Jimber replied in total disbelief.

Scorpius began to dress. At nine o’clock were the team tryouts and he was nervous. A part of his nerves came from the fact that his father had made the Slytherin house team as a second-year. Another part of his nerves came from the fact the he expected both Albus and Rose to make the team. He doubted Jimber would make the team, but his best friend would be leaving next year. If he didn’t make the team and the cousins did, would be left an outsider in his own dormitory? Scorpius began to feel depressed and the nervous feeling grew.

Suddenly, he felt something big and soft hit him in the face. After a seconds panic, Scorpius pushed the item away to discover he had been hit by Albus’ pillow.

Albus sat on the edge of his bed looking very proud of his toss “Are you coming or not? Or should we send a girl from the common room up to Rose, so you two can walk down to breakfast hand-in-hand?�

Scorpius felt his blood pressure rise and he grabbed the thrown pillow and tried to smack Potter’s head with it. Albus threw up his right arm to block Scorpius’ pillow attack. However, Jimber’s pillow strike took him totally by surprise. Albus yelled as both boys repeatedly smacked him with their white down weapons.

“What are you doing? It’s Saturday! Can’t a bloke get some sleep?� shouted a half awaken Harold.

“Sorry mate,� answered Jimber, as he flipped his pillow back on his bed. Scorpius just dropped Albus’ pillow on the floor and quietly finished dressing. Suppressing laughs, the three boys grabbed their brooms from just inside the door of their dormitory where they had placed them last night. Albus held the door for his two roommates and they walked down the stairway leading to the Common Room.

Jimber was almost done with his second helping of waffles, scrambled eggs, and sausage when Scorpius was finishing up his plate of strawberries, runny eggs, and toast. Albus was looking around at the lack of fellow students. Scorpius saw Albus wave at someone coming into the door. He turned to see Rose walking into the hall, broom in hand, with Kaitlin Jones, a blond third-year Scorpius just knew as Reilly and a dark-skinned girl who was possibly a fifth year. The girls sat there brooms across the table next to them building a make shift wall.

A few steps behind the girls, Freddy Weasley and three other guys walked in and plopped themselves and their brooms at the far end of the table. One of the people with the Captain was James Potter; James did not immediately sit down with the older boys. He walked up to the second-years and began to talk to his brother. “Ally, do try and stay on your broom today. I’d hate for you to be a total embarrassment to the family name. Hey, Kitty-Kat, if you don’t make the Gryffindor team maybe your cousin will let you be a reserve for Hufflepuff.�

Kaitlin stood up with her hands on her hips and a dangerous gleam in her eyes. Her quick reaction surprised Scorpius, Rose fixed her cousin with slight grin. “You know, James, if you keep going out of your way to pick fights with Kaitlin, people will start to talk. They might wonder why you care so much.�

Rose’s comment drew two sets of looks sharp as daggers. Scorpius looked at the James and Kaitlin and wondered what Rose was up to. Albus exploded into laughter, then reached over to grab one of Jimber’s last pieces of waffle and tossed it at his brother.

“Go back to your mates, lover boy,� taunted the younger Potter. At his brother’s comment, James retreated up the table.

Kaitlin now faced Albus hands still on her hips. “I didn’t need your help!�

“What? It got him to leave, didn’t it?� asked an amused Albus.

Kaitlin sat down and started grabbing food for her plate. Scorpius caught Rose’s eye and they shared a smile, before returning to eat.

As James mumbled something about Kitty-Kat to the older players, Freddy searched the rest of the Great Hall. “Great. Lee’s here for breakfast. He must have found out about our try-outs and wants to spy for Ravenclaw.� Freddy searched the other tables. No one was at the Hufflepuff table and only three sat at the Slytherin table. Two of the Slytherins were a boy and a girl of about sixth-year who were kissing, giggling, and feeding each other breakfast, and, at the end of the table closest to the door, a first-year girl was eating all by herself.

Fred smiled. Let Lee spy. Heck, why not invite the Captain of Ravenclaw onto the pitch? Our try outs will be so strong that it will probably demoralize him. Freddy marveled at his innate brilliance as he ate his breakfast.

A couple of more Gryffindors stumbled in for an early breakfast, including Harry and Abby Baird. Abby plopped down in between Rose and Kaitlin. She began to pepper Rose with questions about Quidditch. Rose smiled and took time to answer each inquiry thoroughly. Scorpius smiled. He knew that teaching Abby would relax her for the tryout. He also found her sweet voice had a calming affect on him.

At eight thirty, Freddy and his group stood up and, without preamble, walked towards the doors. At the same time, Scorpius noticed a thin, black-haired boy leave the Ravenclaw table. The group around Scorpius was starting to stand when Jimber nudged him on the shoulder.

On the way out, Abby waved at the girl who was sitting alone at the Slytherin table. She did not respond. Abby sighed, and continued following the group toward the front doors.

As the group of Gryffindors neared the pitch, they saw Hagrid and Auror Broomwright walking toward them. Broomwright had her arms extended, showing her palms. Hagrid spoke before anyone could ask.

“Hold on, you lot. You can’t go any closer to the forest, not until the search is over anyway.�

“What search?� asked Freddy Weasley.

Broomwright shook her head, unhappy with Hagrid for speaking before she did “No comment. It’s all ministry business. Now go back up to the school,� added the female Auror.

“Are they searching for the intruder?� asked Rose.

“Ministry business,� Broomwright countered.

“Do you think it’s safe, ma’am? Maybe Hagrid should escort us back to the school just in case,� offered Scorpius.

Rose gave Scorpius a look of disbelief, but then he saw her expression turn into one of understanding. “Yes, I’d feel much safer if Hagrid escorted us back.� Broomwright shrugged at Hagrid, and the giant of a man began to walk the team back toward the school. /

Rose and Scorpius moved next to Hagrid. “So, Hagrid what was Rose’s dad doing with the centaurs?� Scorpius asked.

“I didn’t know there were female centaurs in the forest� said Rose.

“Of course, there are lady centaurs! Where do you think they come from?� Hagrid answered. “I know that they’re very protective of their female folk and their foals. Probably why they reacted so much about the human scent and signs of digging they discovered in the forest.� He paused and shook his head. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.�

Rose looked around Hagrid’s girth gave Scorpius a smile and a wink. So there had been an intruder and it was in the Forbidden Forest.