Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1253713.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Scorpius_Malfoy/Lily_Luna_Potter, Theodore_Nott/Lily_Luna_Potter, Gregory
      Goyle/Lily_Luna_Potter
  Character:
      Scorpius_Malfoy, Lily_Luna_Potter, Albus_Severus_Potter, Rose_Weasley,
      Hugo_Weasley, Theodore_Nott, Gregory_Goyle, Draco_Malfoy, Astoria
      Greengrass, Harry_Potter, Ginny_Weasley, Ron_Weasley, Hermione_Granger,
      Molly_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Romance, Forced_Prostitution, Torture, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Oral_Sex,
      Anal_Sex, Tissue_Warning
  Series:
      Part 2 of Lilium_&_Scorpiones
  Collections:
      already_read
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-01 Completed: 2014-06-10 Chapters: 28/28 Words: 115572
****** Scarlet ******
by Ely_Baby
Summary
     Head Auror Harry James Potter pissed off one too many people when he
     ordered a raid to close down all Wizarding whorehouses. Now, Theodore
     Nott has stolen something precious from him and his vendetta will be
     vicious.
      Warning: Chapter 21 is up and it's extremely graphic. Please be
     extra-aware of all the Warning Tags listed above.
      Sequel: The_Golden_Orchid.
Notes
     This was beta-read by the lovely Alice Helena.
     This is going to be dark. Very dark. Read the warnings - read them
     well - and don't tell me I didn't warn you!
     Scenes are going to be short and chapters, as well, are going to be
     extremely short (okay between 2,000 and 5,000 words, to me that's
     EXTREMELY short, because I'm used to write from 12,000 to 22,000
     words per chapter), which is another liberating thing. It's a
     stylistic choice, by the way. Hopefully though the emotions will
     shine through despite its brevity.
     Also, this is dedicated to all the children who are abducted every
     day. I can't even start to imagine what their families go through.
     The very thought of losing someone that way makes my heart ache and I
     send all my love to people who have gone or are going through that
     right now.
***** Prologue *****
                                      ***
When asked about it afterwards, the second thing that Molly Weasley recalled
about that day was the wind. A strong, warm wind that made her laundry flutter
on the long lines behind the Burrow, creating a fascinating game of lights and
shadows on the grass and the flowerbeds.
The first thing that she remembered, though, was Harry’s upset expression, and
Ginny’s big, fat tears, as they sat at the table in her kitchen. She recalled
Hugo’s scared face, while he was questioned incessantly by the Aurors. So
ardent was Hugo's questioning, that his own uncle had grabbed his arm, and
shook him lightly when he couldn’t remember where, exactly, in the garden they
were standing when it had happened. Then the little boy began crying in
earnest. She could recall Ron, as he brought Hugo away and tried to calm him
down Harry. And Hermione, as she comforted Ginny.
And she remembered Aurors.
Aurors everywhere. Searching, questioning, taking measurements, firing spells,
and discovering nothing at all. Aurors asking her things, over and over again,
until they brought up her own tears, even though she had never stopped crying
since that morning.
Because she was gone. Completely gone. As if she had disappeared into thin air.
***
That morning, Molly Weasley smoothed the bed linen on the line, and sighed.
The grounds behind the Burrow were quiet. So much quieter, now that Rose and
Albus had finally started at Hogwarts the week before; Molly almost didn’t like
it. She was not used to it. She needed noise, and the sound of laughter and
cries, and little voices that called her and asked her to heal a grazed knee,
or to give them a glass of milk.
She wiped away some sweat from her brow, and picked one of her nightgowns from
the pile in the basket, waving it in the wind to flat it gently before pegging
it out next to the linen.
She narrowed her eyes in concentration, and tried to focus on remembering
whether or not either Hugo or Lily didn’t like fish. She had bought soles at
the fish market in Ottery St Catchpole the day before, and Arthur had told her
he had a craving for her garlic cream sauce. She was happy when she managed to
recall that it was Albus who had thrown a tantrum when he was five; a fishbone
had got stuck in his tooth for three hours, and he swore to never eat fish
again, from that very day, to his death.
She bent over to pick up a pair of Arthur’s underwear, and almost started into
letting them fall, when she saw a little shadow appearing and disappearing
behind the fluttering laundry.
She smiled and picked the underwear up once again, waving it out like a flag.
“Hello, Hugo,” she said sweetly, “having fun playing?”
Her grandson didn’t reply, but she could see his little legs and bare feet
twitching in nervousness amongst the tall grass.
“You’re so silent, Dear,” she said gently, pegging the underwear on the line.
She moved the bed linen out of the way to look at him.
His blue eyes – Ron’s blue eyes – were as big as saucers as he looked at her.
His freckled little hands were grasping his dirty t-shirt, and his shorts were
fluttering in the wind.
“Where’s Lily, Darling?” she asked, as she found a sock on the ground, and let
the linen fall back into place to pick it up.
He hesitated a little, his toes curling in the ground. “She’s gone,” he finally
said, his voice tiny.
Molly tossed some locks of hair behind her shoulders. “She’s gone?” she asked
half-amusedly. “Are you playing hide and seek again? Is she hiding?” She moved
the linen again and looked at him, beaming.
Hugo shook his head, his eyes still wide.
She cocked her head and felt her smile faltering, before disappearing
completely from her face. Suddenly, she felt as if there was something wrong.
Something out of place. Something not quite right, in the way Hugo was
behaving.
“Hugo,” she said a bit breathlessly, as she walked past the linen and came to
kneel near him, “where’s Lily?”
“He took her away,” he replied, his voice a whisper.
Molly felt her heartbeat echoing in every cell of her body, her fingers
tingling with fear. She grabbed his little arm in her plump hand, and looked at
him, as tears started to swell up in the boy’s eyes. “Who took her away, Hugo?”
she asked urgently, her voice just a throaty murmur.
He was crying when he whispered, “The man with the mask.”
***
[Article 01]
***
“Nott. Nott, you have to take her back.”
Theodore Nott looked at Gregory Goyle, disgust painted over his face. “You
sound like you are scared, Goyle,” he said haughtily.
Goyle gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring. “She’s not another Muggle girl,”
he hissed, “someone that the Muggle police will consider a lost cause. She’s
the Head Auror’s only daughter. They’ll turn the whole Wizarding World upside
down to find her.”
“Let them do it,” he replied coldly, “I dare them to find her here.”
Goyle took a deep breath, as if to calm himself down. "Okay," he said, looking
at Nott like he was a madman, "we have to do it quickly, though. Kill her, and
put her body somewhere where nobody can trace it back to us."
Nott looked at him and snorted. “Kill her?” he asked harshly. “I don't want to
kill her.”
Goyle's eyes widened. “What the hell are you talking about?” Large beads of
sweat were running down his temples now, and he brushed them away with his
forearm.
Nott returned his eyes to the inert form of the child. She was still
unconscious, her body too small and weak for the spell he had sent her way. He
would have to use a Reviving Spell to wake her up. “I don't want to kill her,”
he repeated, “that would be a waste. No, Harry Potter wiped away my business in
just one night. With his raid, he closed all of my whorehouses, simultaneously
taking away all ofmy money.” He snorted. “He doesn't like prostitutes, does he?
Well, too bad that that’s what his only daughter will become.”
Goyle’s jaw dropped. “That’s… that’s ridiculous, Nott, you can’t have her in a
brothel… what if… if a client recognises her…”
“She’ll be my crown jewel,” he continued, ignoring him, “clients will have to
pay such ridiculously high prices for her, that she alone will bring all the
income. We’ll start over, Goyle. Open a new brothel, and hide it under a
respectable façade. We’ll keep the registry with the clients, and bring the old
friends back in. We’ll let them know that we are back in business.”
“But what if she talks and tells them who she is… I’m sure the clients won’t
think twice about selling the information to Potter,” reasoned Goyle, fear in
his voice, “think about it, Nott. This is a stupid idea…”
“A Memory Charm will do the trick,” he replied dismissively, “a new name, a new
identity. I’ve always wanted a daughter.” He wetted his lips as he stared at
her. “And she’ll be in my bed every night, right after she earns her living
like a respectable little whore.” He brought his hands to his belt, unbuckling
it slowly. “In fact, I think I shall start training her tonight,” he said,
fishing out his member from his underwear, and starting to stroke it. “You’re
welcome to watch, Goyle,” he added as he made his way to the bed, climbing on
near her, “and I’m willing to share, but only after I’ve used her thoroughly.”
He smirked and added, “And I’ve filled this place with her screams.”
He pushed her legs apart and knelt between them, before finally deciding that
he wanted her awake and aware.
And Lily screamed. She screamed so loud, that Nott had to take away her memory
half way through the night, and gag her; before she deafened him with her silly
cries for Mummy and Daddy.
***
Once he was done with the child, he finally let Goyle have her. Sitting back
against an armchair, he stared at her tear-stained face pressed under Goyle’s
hand, and her blood-tainted thighs that were pushing back against his friend’s
belly, and Nott felt pleasure stirring once more inside of him.
Then his thoughts turned to Potter, and he couldn't help smirking in
satisfaction. Theodore Nott's vendetta was going to be a masterpiece of
cruelty.
***
                                 [Article 02]
                                        
                                 [Article 03]
                                        
                                 [Article 04]
                                        
                                 [Article 05]
***** Chapter I *****
                                      ***
The sluggish movement of the Hogwarts Express made Scorpius Malfoy sleepy. So
sleepy, that he could feel his eyelids flutter and his head mill lazily with
the motion.
And then there was the voice. Her voice. It wasn’t a nasty voice, nor it was
too harsh or loud. And that was exactly the problem. It was soft and sweet and
boring, and it didn’t help Scorpius one bit. He let his body be cradled by the
movement of the train and started to gently loll, bumping softly into Ursula
Zabini without even trying to mumble an apology. After all, she didn’t seem to
mind his proximity too much.
“Malfoy! Are you even listening to me?”
He groaned inwardly, and raised his eyes to the only girl standing in the whole
compartment. Her bushy red hair was swaying in time to the movement of the
Hogwarts Express, and she had a hand clutched tightly around a handle that was
framing one of the seats.
“Of course I’m listening, Weasley,” he grunted, crossing his arms and
darkening. He could feel the eyes of all the other Prefects bore into him. Some
of them were probably sniggering at the fact that he had been caught spacing
out by the Head Girl. Again.
“Well,” she said, pursing her lips in a haughty gesture. “What was I saying?”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. It was his third year as Prefect, and even though
Rose Weasley had been made Head Girl only that year, she had already given more
speeches and held more meetings than Scorpius could remember doing in the past
two years altogether.
Today was not different. They had just had the time to climb onto the train
home, for the Christmas holidays, when she had herded them to the Prefect
wagon, and started talking endlessly about… something. And that besotted idiot,
Emeric Zabini, had not even tried to stop her. Au contraire, he seemed to hang
off her words; as if she actually were interesting. But of course, the Head Boy
had the most ridiculous crush on the Head Girl. Scorpius suspected that Weasley
knew it perfectly well, and took advantage of that, to schedule long and boring
meetings, without him to stop her.
“Well?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
He sighed. “You were pairing up people for the train patrol…?” he said, trying
not to make it sound like a question, even if his voice raised imperceptibly at
the end of the sentence.
She narrowed her eyes. “And who are you paired up with?”
Well, at least he had guessed correctly. Not that he had too many alternatives,
really. What would she blabber about anyway? Homework? Like she could give them
homework. She couldn’t… right?
He tried to look around himself. Had McGonagall not insisted on her silly House
Unity policy and her friendly student exchanges between Houses, he would have
replied Alice Belby, his fellow Slytherin Prefect, from his own year. But
naturally, since being paired up with someone from the same house was out of
the question it could honestly be just bloody anybody. He just hoped it wasn’t
going to be some fifth year like Weasley’s brother.
His eyes travelled through the motley crowd of people who were all waiting
expectantly for him. As if a wrong answer would have led the Head Girl to give
vent to all her disappointment, and start with another speech on the importance
of paying attention.
He rolled his eyes again, and finally saw someone make a little movement with
his hands, index finger pointed subtly at himself. He raised his eyes, only to
let out a groan as he stared at Albus Potter’s face.
“Potter,” he muttered with a sigh.
Weasley flared her nostrils. “Right,” she replied, finally taking her eyes away
from him. “As I was saying, the partner that we’ve paired you up with today,
will be the same for the journey back to school after the holidays. Now, you
may go. And remember the carriages that you’ve been assigned, and the times of
your patrol.”
The crowd let out a chorus of murmurs more or less of agreement, and finally
people started to stand up and get going.
“Malfoy,” said Weasley, coming to stand in front of him. “You were spacing out
again.” Again, he couldn’t help noticing that she had an odd tone of voice; she
was not exactly severe, she was kind of sweet still, but as if she were trying
really hard to sound stern without really succeeding.
He rolled his eyes as he stood up. “Give it a rest, Weasley,” he grunted,
“you’re Head Girl. You’re not Minister for Magic, yet.”
She placed her hands on her hips, and glared at him. “I don’t want to become
Minister for Magic. I will apply to be an Auror next year,” she let him know as
he walked past her.
He snorted lightly, swallowing the words that he wanted to retort. The last
time he had told James Potter that everybody in his family wanted to be an
Auror only to try to find his little sister, who was definitely already dead,
he had woken up in the infirmary with Madam Pomfrey scowling at him as she
pretended to heal his broken nose, when she was actually manhandling him and
enjoying it immensely.
She had healed him in the end, though.
He hurried out of the compartment and tried to look for Albus Potter. Sure
enough, there he was. Talking to his impossibly tall cousin, and nodding and
ruffling up his unruly hair every few seconds in an almost infuriating way.
“Potter,” he called him, as he pushed some first years out of the way in a very
un-Prefect like fashion.
Potter took a deep breath, and glanced at him sideways. “I didn’t do it for
you,” he said as Scorpius approached him, “I did it for me. If my cousin was to
know that you were not listening to her for the umpteenth time, she would have
started lecturing us all on the importance of following directions and being
awake during those meetings.”
Scorpius nodded curtly, relieved that he didn’t have to thank him. “I… can you
fill me in with the times and the carriages for our patrol?” he asked stiffly.
Potter rolled his eyes. “She’s right though,” he replied, “you never ever
listen.”
“Yeah,” he replied curtly, “she’s just too boring.” He darkened when Hugo
Weasley glared at him. “Just tell me the times and carriages and I’ll meet you
there.”
Potter told him everything he needed to know, and even settled the place and
time where to meet him, probably just to see him gone on his way. And Scorpius
was glad to do it.
He walked through the train, looking into each and every single compartment to
try to find someone he knew and wanted to sit with. Unluckily, the two things
appeared to be mutually exclusive.
Finally, he found the Head Boy sitting in an empty compartment all by himself,
a leather-covered book in his hands. He suspected he was waiting for the Head
Girl, and the temptation to ruin his plans of being alone with her was too good
to resist, so he opened the door and walked inside. 
“What do you think your father would say if he knew you were drooling over a
Weasley?” he sneered as he plummeted down on a seat.
Emeric looked up from his book to glare at him. “Nothing,” he said lightly, “he
stopped saying anything when I was sorted into Ravenclaw.”
Scorpius snorted. “Thank you for pairing me with Potter, by the way,” he
hissed, “how did you know that’s exactly who I wanted as a patrol partner?”
“I didn’t,” he replied indignantly, “Rose did. She noticed that you’ve never
been paired up in two and a half years.” His lips turned up into a quick smile
and he added, “She’s clever…”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he replied curtly, before leaning his
head against the window and looking at the snow-covered landscape rolling
outside.
“Has your father shed any more light on the present he plans to give you for
Christmas?” asked Emeric as he took out a quill and started to write something
on the book, a content, almost dreamy, smile on his lips.
Scorpius looked at him darkly. “No, but knowing my father it might not be a new
broom.”
His father had spent the past two weeks writing to him about a present he would
be giving him on Boxing Day. He sounded almost excited in his letters, and
somehow when he was excited it was always about something that Scorpius didn’t
particularly like. Like a pet snake, or a walking stick with the Malfoy crest
engraved in silver on it.
But he wouldn’t shed any light this time, and Scorpius just had to wait and
see.
***
“You are late, Malfoy.” Potter’s tone was annoyed. “Do you not know that my
cousin checks on us as we check on the students?”
Scorpius rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that day, wondering idly if
they were going to roll out of their sockets by the end of the day. “Well, your
cousin is a control freak,” he replied hotly, “and I am only five minutes
late.” He darkened and added, “Let’s go.”
Potter snorted softly as he followed him. But the train was mostly quiet. All
they had to do was confiscate a Fanged Frisbee and some Dungbombs from a third
year.
“You know that our job would be much easier if your uncle hadn’t opened another
shop in Hogsmeade, right?” he asked darkly.
To his surprise Potter nodded. “I know,” he said lightly, “but that would take
all the fun out of patrol, wouldn’t it?”
***
Ron closed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, and to his dismay the Head Auror
started and snapped his head off the desk, his eyes opening wide.
“I’m sorry,” murmured Ron gently, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Harry took off his glasses to clean them on his sleeve and shook his head.
“No,” he replied, “thank you for waking me up. Ginny would have hexed me if I
stayed the night here another time, because I fell asleep in my office again.”
Ron nodded as he peered over his desk. A brochure from a funeral parlour lay
open in front of him.
“Harry,” said Ron, a knot in his throat, “you shouldn’t look at these things.”
He placed the glasses back on his nose and nodded. “I know,” he replied, before
taking a deep breath. “I just thought… for Ginny and the boys, you know, to
give them some kind of closure…” His green eyes shone bright with tears.
“She’s not dead,” he said softly, “remember? We don’t think these things.” He
swallowed and knew that he was lying. He had thought those things for years
now.
Harry nodded, his fingers brushing away the tears that he was about to shed. “I
know,” he replied, “thank you, Ron.”
Ron nodded. “Let’s go,” he said, waiting for him to stand up. “Let’s go home.”
***
Money was flowing like never before.
Of course, after the shutting down of all the whorehouses in England – thanks
to Head Auror Harry James Potter – Nott’s idea of opening a brothel, literally
under a fake law firm that sported his and Goyle’s name, had been a winning
one.
And his idea of offering Potter’s precious little flower to the clients had
been genius.
He didn’t know if the men who asked for her knew her real identity, but it
didn’t matter. They certainly seemed to enjoy her, and that was what was
important. A satisfied client wouldn’t go to the Ministry to tell them that she
was there. No matter how much money Potter offered that month for information.
And, most importantly, he enjoyed her too. Every night. Every way he wanted.
***
Nott was checking the registries for that night, when she knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he said calmly.
The door opened, and her bare feet made no sound on the floor. He knew she was
inside only because she had closed the door at her back with a soft click.
He didn’t look up from the registries when she came to stand near his desk. He
could see out of the corner of his eye her white dress – a uniform that mocked
her non-existing purity – flutter slightly.
“Are you done for the night, Scarlet?” he asked, dunking the quill into an ink
bottle and tapping it gently against the rim.
“Yes, Father,” she replied softly and politely, just the way he liked it.
He copied some numbers – payments due that month – and quirked his lip upwards.
“Are you tired?”
He could almost hear her swallowing. “Yes, Father,” she replied faintly.
He placed the quill on his desk and closed the registry, finally looking at
her.
She was a sight to behold. The most gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes
upon.
Nott knew that some of her loveliness came from the fact that her stupid little
house-elf took care of her, and her beauty, as if her life depended on it. And
it did, really. He didn’t spare death threats to the creature, when necessary.
To top that, there were the other prostitutes. He wanted them to wash her and
brush her hair every day, beautifying her before every night of hard work. And
even though most of them couldn’t stand the fact that she was the most
beautiful, the most expensive, and Nott’s favourite, he made sure that they all
treated her with respect. In front of him at least; what they did behind his
back was not his business, after all. And all he required, was for them not to
leave marks on her precious skin. Not that he had to worry too much. He knew
that women liked to use words to hurt each other, rather than knives. But they
had nails, and some of them were as sharp as claws.
Most of her beauty though, came from her family. Nott could remember her mother
at Hogwarts, and Ginny Weasley had definitely been one of the most beautiful
girls he had ever seen. And now that he was in his forties, he could appreciate
beauty even more. And the fifteen-year-old girl in front of him was a vision.
She was rather short, but perfectly built. Her long, red hair, that he had
never let her cut through the years, reached the small of her back, and he just
loved to roll it around his hand when he took her from behind. Her brown eyes,
rich and deep like the expensive sandalwood that adorned every inch of his
office, looked at him in fear and awe, and he delighted in that.
He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “You are always tired, Scarlet,” he
said, a smirk stretching his lips, “I wonder what you do all day long that you
can’t reach the end of the night without complaining.”
She lowered her eyes, her flushed cheeks letting him know that she was
embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Father,” she whispered.
“Shall I confine you to our room throughout the day?” he asked, sneering in
anticipation.
Her eyes snapped up, fear washing over her features. “No,” she said loudly,
before adding in a whisper, “Please, Father…”
He studied her face for a long moment before murmuring, “My little Scarlet
wants to be free to roam the house. Curl up with a book, where nobody can find
her, am I right?”
She looked truly abashed as she nodded. “Yes, please, Father…”
He pursed his lips, and brought his long fingers in front of his mouth. “Are
you tired, Scarlet?” he asked again.
“No,” she replied, her voice throaty.
He nodded as he picked up the quill again, and opened a drawer to put it away.
“Then undress and get on the bed,” he ordered her. “On your back first, I want
to look into your eyes, tonight.”
***** Chapter II *****
                                      ***
Despite having lived at the Manor all his life, Scorpius could never get
accustomed to the frostiness of its immense rooms and halls. Especially in
wintertime; when the snow outside seemed to cover the Wiltshire countryside
under a white blanket, and ice would form on the glass of the tall windows.
But complaining about the temperature was not considered proper behaviour for a
Malfoy. Not by his father at least, his mother never missed a chance to point
out how the cold bit through to her bones and make her ache.
But now that Scorpius was of age, he could at least cast a Heating Charm on
himself without a second thought. Not that he wouldn’t do that even before he
had turned seventeen; in fact his father always encouraged him to use magic
when he was home for the holidays, and even before he had started at Hogwarts,
for that matter.
Yes, it was illegal, but his mother was the only one who complained about it in
that Manor. His father always reprimanded her, without fail, saying that she
couldn’t understand because she was not a real Malfoy.
That silenced every complaint she might have had, forcing her to leave the
room. Fuming.
And his father would just glare at her fluttering dress, as she stormed away,
while Scorpius could only stare at his parents, drifting coldly away from each
other.
***
“Who is Father talking to?”
His mother looked up from the book she had in her lap. Her delicate little feet
stirred near the crackling fire in the hearth.
“An old friend of his,” she replied vaguely, “from back at school.”
Scorpius craned his neck to peer through the door, which led from the drawing
room to the hallway. The man his father was talking to was tall, and solidly
built. He had dark hair and very white skin, as if he rarely saw the light of
day. His hands, peering from under his cloak, seemed huge and were as pale as
his face. Like the rest of his skin, they were in stark contrast with the
darkness of his clothes.
The man nodded and smirked every now and then. He seemed to listen carefully to
his father, and his father looked very pleased about something.
When Draco nodded towards the drawing room, the man turned his head towards
Scorpius, and Scorpius’ eyes met his dark, cold ones.
Scorpius looked immediately away, caught staring, feeling his cheeks warming up
in embarrassment.
“Scorpius,” his father called him, his voice calm, “come.”
Scorpius glanced at his mother as he made his way towards the hallway. She
looked back at him with severe eyes, expecting Merlin knows what. He walked to
where the men were standing, and looked at his father’s old friend, trying hard
to hold his stare.
“Scorpius,” said his father, curling a hand over his shoulder, “this is
Theodore Nott, an old friend of mine.”
“It’s a pleasure, Sir,” he said, stretching a hand to him.
Mr Nott’s lips curled into a soft smile that looked more like a smirk.
“Pleasure is all mine, young Malfoy,” he said, shaking Scorpius’ hand.
Scorpius nodded, unsure of what to say next. Luckily, he didn’t have to say
anything at all because at that moment Mr Nott’s eyes returned to his father,
and he tilted his head lightly. “So, I shall expect him on Boxing Day,” he
said, “eleven in the evening. If he’s late, he won’t be given any extra time
after the two hours you’ve booked.”
“Obviously,” replied his father calmly. “Have a happy Christmas, Nott.”
He smirked at that. “You too, Malfoy.” He nodded softly at Scorpius and walked
towards the door, where a house-elf hurried to open it for him.
When the door closed and the elf disappeared, Scorpius finally turned his head
towards his father. “What was that all about?” he asked, gaping at him.
“Your present,” replied his father, as he walked towards the stairs.
“My present?” he asked unsurely.
His father nodded without even looking at him, his hand already on the railing,
as he started to walk back to his study. He stopped only for the briefest
moment when his mother appeared on the door of the drawing room, eyes bright
and stormy with rage. He looked back at her for a fistful of seconds, before
finishing his ascend up the stairs and into the eerie stillness of the Manor.
***
The clatter of cutlery was so loud in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place that Albus
felt the urge to say something – anything to break the uncomfortable silence.
“I had to patrol with Malfoy on the ride home, did I tell you?” he said,
cleaning his mouth with a napkin and sipping some pumpkin juice from his glass.
His father chuckled softly. “Have you done something to Rosie?”
“I don’t think so,” he replied thoughtfully, “not that I’m aware of anyway.” He
sighed almost dramatically. “She’s a control freak though, Malfoy is right…”
His mother looked up from the almost untouched plate in front of her. She had
never been the same since the kidnapping, a dark cloud seemingly her perpetual
companion, but now was one of her times of year when she would succumb to
absolute desolation. Lily’s birthday. The anniversary of her
kidnapping. Christmas. 
Lily used to love Christmas. She always woke up first. Albus’ heart clenched at
the thought that he always pushed her off his bed, and told her to get lost
when she burst into his room screaming that there were presents under the tree,
imploring him to come downstairs to open them with her. Every Christmas ever
since her disappearance, he would wake up at dawn and wait for her to open his
door, but it never happened.
“Aunt Hermione was just like that,” said his mother softly. She always spoke
softly lately. “But patrol had never run more swiftly than when she was in
charge.” She smiled as she poked some peas with her fork.
Albus nodded, knowing full well that Rose had definitely not taken after Uncle
Ron when organisational skills were involved. “When is James coming home?”
“He’s not coming home,” replied his father, “he’ll meet us at the Burrow on
Christmas day. He lives with Bran and John now.”
“Did they all apply to be Aurors?”
His father nodded, before looking at his mother. “Ginny,” he said softly,
“eat.”
Albus could see her bottom lip quiver as she shook her head and stood up.
Grabbing her plate, she placed it in the sink and walked out of the kitchen,
leaving them there alone.
His father took a deep breath. “I was thinking about a memorial,” he said
calmly, “on Lily’s birthday.”
Albus looked at him, his heart skipped a beat as he understood why his mother
had looked so miserable. “Dad,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “she’s
not…”
His father shook his head. “I don’t know anymore, Al,” he whispered, before
standing up and going after his mother.
***
“Ginny, we need to talk about it.” Harry’s voice was calm and soothing, the
tone he knew his wife would need to calm down.
“No!” she cried. “No! You… you’re losing hope.” She shook her head, and
collapsed on the armchair in their room. “She’s still alive, I know it… a
mother can feel these things!” She clasped her hands around the picture of Lily
that they kept on her bedside table. Their little angel. Sometimes Harry
wondered how true that expression was, and if she was really looking at them
from high above. In the photo, she was grinning at Uncle Ron, the one who had
taken the picture. She was standing in her shorts and tee-shirt in front of the
Burrow, flaming hair flapping in the wind and toes curling in the grass,
waiting impatiently for the picture to be taken before she could dash away to
play with Hugo again.
Harry sat on the bed in front of her. “Ginny, it’s been six years.”
“No, Harry!” she sobbed. “No! You said that until there is a body, she can be
alive. You said it!”
His shoulders slumped forward. “She could also be dead.”
“No!” she cried, tears spilling over the corners of her eyes. “No! Don’t say
it!” She buried her face in one hand, the other still grasping the picture, and
started shaking with sobs.
He stood from the bed and knelt next to her, placing two fingers under her chin
he raised her face to make her look at him, brushing away her tears. “Of course
she’s alive,” he murmured softly, “and we will find her. I promise you.” It
hurt him to lie to his wife, but she didn’t need to hear the truth at that
moment.
She shook her head, tears threatening to spill once again. “I don’t want a
memorial for my daughter,” she sobbed. “Never, never… Not in two months, not
even in fifty years. I will never lose hope.”
Harry nodded sadly at her words, wondering deep down if it would be better, in
fact, if she did lose hope.
***
Scorpius was sure that other people had different kinds of Christmas
celebrations. Christmas at the Manor meant dressing up in some bloody fancy
dress, just for the three of them, and getting bored out of one’s wits. There
was a time when his grandparents would be there. Sometimes even Aunt Daphne
with his cousins, and his other set of grandparents. But lately, it had been
just the three of them. Exchanging expensive gifts, sitting at the dinner table
in silence for hours, eating lavish dishes and drinking his father’s wine.
That Christmas, Mother had gotten him new cufflinks. He had gotten her a new
dress from Paris. His father had smiled at their exchange, and his mother had
looked at him warily. Then he had given her his present; a ruby necklace that
let Scorpius know that he needed her to forgive him something. S
he smiled and asked him to help her put it on. But when his father’s hands slid
down her back, she moved away, as if she couldn’t stand his touch.
It was late that afternoon when his father finally gave him an envelope.
“Happy Christmas, Scorpius,” he said calmly, leaning his elbows on the armrests
and crossing his fingers in front of his lips.
Scorpius stared at the envelope, where his name was written in his father’s
elegant hand, for a long moment. Well, it certainly wasn’t a new broom, but at
least it wasn’t a walking stick either. “Thank you, Father,” he replied as he
finally opened it.
Inside, there was a light blue business card.
                                 [Card Before]
And nothing else.
Scorpius turned it over, but there was nothing on the other side. He stared at
it, waiting for something to happen, but nothing changed.
He raised his eyes to his father, who just smirked at him. “Turn it over,” he
said calmly, “three times.”
Scorpius frowned slightly, but did as he was told. He turned the card over
three times and stared. Suddenly, the elaborate font of the print vibrated and
shrunk, until it disappeared completely. Little drops, of what looked like
blood, started to drip from the top of the card, disappearing once they reached
the bottom, bathing the card in crimson. Scorpius let the card fall in his lap,
disgusted and afraid to soil his fingers.
His father chuckled softly, probably at his reaction. “Look on the back,” he
said quietly.
He wrinkled his nose as he turned the card over, furrowing his brow. 
                                 [Card After]
His name, a date, a number - a time? - and... Scarlet.
He tried to think hard what that might mean. The card had turned scarlet, did
that mean something in particular? It looked like he had some kind of
appointment. Appointment for what?
“I’ve noticed that you never talk about girls, Scorpius,” his father said,
voice calm and measured. “Do you find them attractive at all?”
Scorpius’ head snapped up to look at his father. He was looking back at him
seriously. “Of course I do,” he replied sharply. And the last thing he wanted
was to talk about girls with his father.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he continued, “because you are my only heir. And one
day – in the not too distant future – you’ll have to keep the Malfoy line
alive.”
He swallowed, and furrowed his brow. How was that anywhere near related to the
card he had in his hands?
“Correct your father if he is wrong,” he continued, “but you’ve never been with
a woman.”
Scorpius could feel his cheeks burn like fire. How dared his father? The man
didn’t even know the names of his friends, or what classes he was taking in his
last year at Hogwarts. How dared he ask him such a personal question? And of
course, he wouldn’t be that embarrassed if the answer had been yes, but since
at seventeen he was still… inexperienced, the shame burned even hotter.
He could feel both his parents’ stares directed at him, waiting expectantly for
his reply. He glanced at his mother and saw that she was looking at him
sternly, as if whatever the answer to that she would have been disappointed.
His father sported the same soft smirk that he had had ever since he had given
him the envelope.
“Am I wrong?” he asked softly.
Scorpius gritted his teeth so forcefully he could hear his jaw pop. “No,
Father,” he growled. “But how do you—”
“It’s not important.” He smirked, satisfied. “Good,” he replied, “then my
present will be beautifully timed.”
Scorpius lowered his narrowed eyes to the card again, to try to understand what
his father was talking about. He read the card another time, moving his lips
slightly as he reached the last word. Scarlet.
“That’s her name,” said his father, nodding softly, “the most expensive
prostitute in Nott’s whorehouse. But Theodore is an old friend, he gave me a
good discount. Two hours at the price of one.” His smirk faltered slightly as
he added, “Still bloody expensive, but he said she’s worth it.”
Scorpius’ eyes widened slightly. A prostitute? His father had booked him two
hours with a prostitute, as a Christmas present? No wonder he had to go
overboard with his mother’s present. No wonder his mother was seething. He
clasped his hands around the edges of the card, denting it a little, and set
his jaw.
He wasn’t sure he wanted that present. It wasn’t because he considered it
degrading for a woman to sell her body, or any other Gryffindor-ish chivalry
that one might think; no, it was because that was not how he had envisioned
losing his virginity. Which was stupid, really, and a rather girly idea, but he
felt sick at the thought that his father had to pay someone for his first time.
As if he couldn’t find anybody who would shag him for free.
And to top that, weren’t whorehouses illegal? He remembered something happened
the year before he started Hogwarts. Something that had to do with Harry
Potter, because his face had been on the Prophet every day that year. Surely
his mother was worried about his safety as well. Surely he would have been
arrested if someone knew.
“Father, I…”
“No need to thank me, Scorpius,” he replied placidly. “Now listen carefully,
because Nott has given me strict instructions on how one enters their
building.” He nodded towards the card in his hand. “That’s your ticket,” he
continued, “and when you walk in their hall…”
***** Chapter III *****
                                      ***
Nott & Goyle ltd. was situated on the ground floor of an immense building, and
from what his father had told Scorpius, in the basement as well. Well, he had
used the word dungeons, but Scorpius imagined that they had more than just
chains and cold, stone cells in there.
The building was a baroque style construction, old and magnificent, with
elaborate details on the façade. Doors with golden handles, and immense windows
that showed the halls inside to the people outside. As if they had no secrets.
The wicked thing, though, was that the place was located between Whitehall and
Charing Cross. Deep in Muggle London, of course, but dangerously close to both
the Ministry and Diagon Alley. As if they were trying to challenge the
authorities. As if they thought that the best way to hide their true business
was in the light of the sun.
Surely the Ministry must have come round for routine inspections. He wondered
if anybody suspected anything at all, or if maybe someone had been corrupted by
Mr Nott to keep their mouth shut. That would almost be more probable than if
they hadn’t.
It was late as Scorpius made his way up the steps that led to the glass main
door, but the offices inside were bustling with life: people in Muggle outfits
were working as if it was afternoon and not the middle of the night, running
here and there with papers in their hands, and using Muggle devices that showed
images and graphs and texts.
Nobody seemed to pay attention to him as he walked inside, though.
It was only as he made his way towards the information desk that a young woman
bumped into him and squeaked and bowed and started to slap her face, as if to
punish herself, thus finally acknowledging his presence.
He wrinkled his nose at her behaviour, and, without excusing himself, he kept
walking towards the information desk, flipping the card in his hand three times
as he had been told by his father.
The woman at the information desk looked busy talking to someone, a bright
smile plastered on her lips as she nodded and looked in front of her with wide
eyes. There was nobody there, but she seemed to be communicating in some kind
of Muggle contraption hanging from her ear.
Conveniently, when he stopped in front of her, she raised her big, attentive
eyes on his face and smiled. “Welcome to Nott & Goyle ltd.,” she said to him,
her voice cheerful and polite. “How may I help you?”
He swallowed and darkened as he showed her the card, without saying one word.
“Of course, Sir,” she replied gently. She kept her eyes on him, and her smile
widened as the wall to her left shook slightly and the silhouette of a door
appeared on the immaculate white plaster.
Scorpius glanced at the door, before looking back at the witch. She kept
smiling, and her head bobbed up and down almost imperceptibly, as if to
encourage him to walk through it.
He took a deep breath as he stared at the entry way and started to walk towards
it, glancing back at the witch every now and then only to notice that she was
still nodding and smiling at him.
He swallowed again as he pushed the door open and walked inside, plummeting
into darkness. The door closed at his back, and as soon as the echo of its lock
catching died around Scorpius, a row of lamps sparkled to life on the wall,
lighting a narrow staircase that went down into the depths of the building. The
stone walls looked almost wet as he descended, while his steps and the flicker
of the lamps were the only sounds he could hear.
He felt like he had walked for minutes when he finally reached the bottom, only
to turn his head up and notice that the beginning of the staircase was merely a
few steps above him. He turned again and found his path barred by a thick
curtain. It was soft and heavy as he grabbed it and pulled it open and when he
did, the lamps on the staircase died out suddenly and he was enveloped by a
sweet, exotic music and a myriad of colours and scents.
He found himself in a circular room. Doors opened everywhere, and between them
there were mirrors and tapestries and paintings and vases filled with flowers.
The floor was covered in colourful rugs and Scorpius had to steady himself
against a wall as he stepped on them. They were thick and soft and made
Scorpius’ steps upon them ungraceful.
The paintings and the tapestries showed wizards and witches busy kissing or
having intercourse in the most inventive ways Scorpius had ever seen, and he
had to swallow as he felt his member twitching slightly between his legs just
by looking at them.
“Good evening, Sir,” said a deep voice at his left.
He turned to find a counter and a tall, young-looking wizard behind it. He was
wearing dress robes. He was handsome and elegant, his long, dark hair was tied
with a bow at the base of his neck and he had a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Good evening,” replied Scorpius softly, as he made his way to him.
“May I see your card, Sir?”
He nodded and handed him the card. The man smiled as he made sure that
everything was in order.
“Very well, Sir,” he said, placing the card in front of him on the counter, and
opening a big, heavy book. “I’m afraid you are slightly early,” he said, “and
she will not be available until the clock strikes eleven.” He raised his eyes
and smiled at him. “But you are welcome to wait in the room we’ve prepared for
you.” He drew out his wand and touched a button on the desk as he talked, “Food
and drinks are included, and so is our selection of music. You may also browse
our menu and start booking for another appointment, at any time.”
One of the doors burst open, and a girl with bright green eyes and curly jet-
black hair walked into the room. Her tanned skin was in stark contrast with the
white of her ankle-length dress. She had a green, satin ribbon under her
breasts, showing off her curves, while her arms were naked just like her feet.
She didn’t have any jewels nor makeup, or at least, not as much as Scorpius had
expected.
She was quite beautiful.
“Do I already have another client?” she asked as she walked to the counter. Her
tone was rather impertinent, as if she wasn’t intimidated by the man there nor
by the fact that there was a client in the room.
The wizard shot her a glare. “No, Lulu,” he replied, “Mr Malfoy is not your
client.”
Lulu looked at Scorpius from head to toe, wetting her lips with sparkling eyes,
and for a moment, Scorpius felt like he was the whore. “Too bad,” she murmured
huskily, “so young and handsome.” She perched herself over the counter, her
breasts pushing against the wizard’s hand. Malice painted over her face as she
read the card. “And rich too, apparently,” she continued. “Of course,” she
almost hissed now, “she always gets the best ones.”
“Lulu,” hissed the wizard back, “shall I report your impertinence to Mr Nott?”
The girl rolled her eyes and sneered. “As if you would, Charles,” she replied,
“I know I’m your favourite.” Her hand slid under the counter, but Charles
grabbed it before she could touch him.
“You’re not my favourite,” he hissed, “you are the only one I can afford. You
know perfectly well who I want.”
She glared at him and jerked her hand free of his fingers.
The wizard looked back at Scorpius, a soft, languid smile on his face. “I’m
sorry for that, Sir,” he said calmly, “Miss Lulu will take you to your room.”
He wrote a number and gave it to Scorpius. “Room fifteen. I hope she’ll be of
your liking.”
Scorpius nodded and glanced at the girl, who looked at him like a lion would do
with a gazelle, and turned on her heels. He followed her through one of the
doors, and some more lamps flickered to life as they stepped into a long
corridor.
They walked for quite some time in silence, until the girl didn’t seem able to
keep quiet anymore. “I don’t know what people see in her, you know,” she said
spitefully, “she walks around the house like she owns it. Just because she’s
the boss’ favourite.”
Scorpius didn’t reply.
“She’s pretty, that I’ll give her,” continued the girl with a snort, “we always
try to touch her when we bathe her. Because she can’t even bathe herself.”
Scorpius swallowed again, what kind of girl had his father reserved for him?
Someone who was mentally challenged?
“And when we feel like it, we hex her,” said the girl, “but we can’t leave
marks, otherwise the boss will punish us in the playroom.” She let out a
mirthless laughter. “Which can actually be fun sometimes.”
She stopped in front of a door that sported the number fifteen in golden
numbers. “Here you go,” she said, gesturing towards the door.
“Thank you,” said Scorpius stiffly, walking past her.
Her hand was on his shoulder before he could reach for the handle though. “By
the way,” she whispered in his ear, “she always cries when they take her in the
arse.” She giggled. “Just a suggestion if you like that kind of thing,” she
added, before walking away and leaving him there dumbstruck. He didn’t know if
she meant that he should like anal sex or seeing a girl crying. He didn’t know
about anal, but certainly he didn’t like a girl crying. Especially not during
sex.
He pushed the door open and walked inside.
The room was flamboyant. There was a richly decorated four-poster bed in the
middle, two rococo armchairs in a corner and a small round table between them.
There was a door that opened into a bathroom on the other side of the room, but
no windows. Of course. They were underground. The walls were covered in dark
crimson textiles, the same colour of the covers on the bed and the armchairs.
The wooden columns of the four-poster bed were painted in gold and had flowers
engraved on them. There was no fireplace, but candles were lit everywhere and
some of them were floating around the room.
He closed the door and walked towards the little table. There was a book with
the word ‘Menu’ in golden letters on the cover, and another that said ‘Food and
Drinks’. Next to them, there was a brochure with music, and temperature, and
scents and the correct spells to perform to change them in the room and adjust
to one’s pleasure.
He opened the ‘Food and Drink’ book and found pictures of delicious meals and
alcoholic drinks and the correct number next to each of them in case he wanted
to place the order with a house-elf. There were oysters, lobsters, strawberries
and chocolate, caviar, truffles, and many other foods that Scorpius had never
even heard of, and then there were whiskeys, wines and liquors, both Muggle and
Wizard made.
He closed the book and placed it back down. His stomach was in knots anyway, he
wouldn’t have been able to eat anything without vomiting on the girl. He felt
his heart beating a bit faster as he thought about her. He didn’t even know
what she looked like, but if she were the most expensive there, surely she
would have been beautiful.
He gnawed on his bottom lip, as he prayed that he would be able to fuck her.
Maybe he would lay down on the bed, and let her do everything. He just needed
to be inside of her, and then he would be okay; he would have reached his
father’s aim: he wouldn’t be a virgin anymore and then he could go back home
without waiting for the two hours to be over. Or maybe he would stay there,
order some food and eat. Maybe he could talk to her, if she was fun to be
around. He wondered how much she was paid for what she did. He wondered if
maybe she was someone who had been at Hogwarts, maybe someone who had finished
the past year or the year before.
He wondered how old she was, and the fact that she might – well, that she
surely was, honestly – older than him, made him a bit nervous. He had to sound
like he knew what he was doing. But he doubted he would be able to fool her
when he came after two seconds of being inside of her. He was already half-hard
for the way those portraits shagged in the round room.
He shook his head and opened the other book, the one labelled, ‘Menu’.
It was not another food menu.
He gaped. On every page there was a picture of a girl, with a number at the
bottom and a name. The girls were smiling, touching themselves, moaning,
winking at him. Page after page, they seemed to try their best to attract his
attention. There were thin and tiny girls, plump young women, short, tall, dark
skinned or fair, beautiful and less beautiful. He reached the end of the book
in a flash, enthralled by those bodies and trying to look for the one called
Scarlet, and when he was about to turn to the last page, a knock on the door
startled him.
The book fell on the floor with a thump and he hurried to pick it up and put it
back on the table. “Come in,” he said gruffly, giving his back to the door.
He could feel his heart beating furiously in his chest and in his temples. He
almost didn’t hear her steps as she walked in, but he heard the faint click of
the door, and then he could somehow sense that she was standing behind him.
She didn’t speak, and he could barely hear her soft breathing as his heartbeat
became less loud and furious.
He swallowed and felt his extremities numb a little as he turned to face her.
To face the girl he would have to take to bed.
Scorpius gaped.
He felt his heart skip a beat.
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes upon. She was
gorgeous. Long, red hair that shone in the light of the candles, warm chocolaty
eyes that lowered as soon as they met his grey ones, high cheekbones, ruby
lips, a sprinkle of freckles on her face and her shoulders, milky skin that
looked soft and smooth. She wore a long, white dress, sleeveless and plain,
just like Lulu had, but the ribbon under her breasts was crimson. And to add to
that, she wore a round and heavy-looking ankle bracelet, golden and covered in
engravings. Her ankles were small and her feet were thin. She was slim, but the
dress showed, and at the same time hid, her curves perfectly well.
She was perfect.
No.
She was divine.
For a moment, as Scorpius looked at her with eyes wide and barely breathing, he
almost cursed his father for having chosen the most beautiful creature he had
ever seen for his first time. Now he knew he wouldn’t be able to last.
She kept her eyes to the floor, her lips slightly parted and her body still,
probably waiting for him to give her directions on what to do.
But he didn’t know. He had never done it, never had sex, never been with a
prostitute. Never even seen someone like her.
And Merlin! She looked young! Younger than himself, but that, naturally,
couldn’t have been possible… she would have been underage if she were any
younger than him. And that was illegal. Not that a whorehouse wasn’t illegal,
but that would have been a step too far.
And she looked slightly familiar. Not as if he had already seen her somewhere,
but as if he had seen someone who looked like her or a picture of her someplace
one day, and then had forgotten.
And she was beautiful.
He just felt like he couldn’t breathe as he looked at her. He was suddenly
overcome with a wave of nausea at the very thought of fucking her. No, a
creature like her needed someone who made love to her, not some stranger who
had paid to pleasure himself with her body.
Suddenly, he didn’t want to touch her, afraid he would spoil her. Afraid he
would soil her beauty.
He took a sharp breath and rushed past her, hurrying into the bathroom and
slamming the door at his back. He placed one hand on the basin and turned on
the tap, splashing his face with ice-cold water.
He glanced at his upset reflection in the mirror and closed his eyes. How was
he supposed to take her? He didn’t want to. He wanted to kneel down next to her
and adore her. He wanted to keep his eyes on her feet because her face was so
beautiful it hurt him.
No, he couldn’t have her. He couldn’t. He would send her back and ask for
another one. Or none at all. He would have asked for his father’s money back
and go spend it on something else. And then he would push Ursula Zabini's ugly
face into the couch in the Slytherin Common Room as he took her from behind,
once he was back at school, and everybody would be happy.
He grabbed a towel almost furiously and dried his face, before opening the door
of the bathroom with fury and storming back into the room.
The girl had moved to the other side of the room, and her dress was a pool of
white at her feet. She stood completely naked in front of him, and Scorpius
felt heat pooling in his lower abdomen.
Her eyes, her beautiful eyes, looked at him almost fearfully, as if she hadn’t
expected him to react that way to her.
He couldn’t help looking down at the perfect swell of her breasts, at her flat
abdomen where her ribs moved gently with her breathing, andat the hairless
mound of flesh between her creamy legs.
Merlin, he felt like he had died and gone to heaven!
He shook his head forcefully and looked back at her face.
“Who told you to get undressed?” he barked nervously, the words coming out much
more sharply than he had intended.
Her bottom lip seemed to quiver as she opened her mouth to say something, but
all she could muster was, “I… I…” and then she had to lower her eyes again,
scared.
“Get dressed,” he snapped at her.
She fell gracefully and silently to her knees and grabbed the dress from the
floor, bringing it up to cover her front without wearing it. She looked at his
feet, her lips parted as she breathed quickly.
“Get dressed, I said,” he hissed, “you are going back.”
She let out a soft whimper and suddenly she was looking back at his face again,
her eyes two pools of misery. “Oh no, Sir,” she choked out, “no, please, don’t
send me back.” She let the dress fall again and soon she was grasping his
trousers around his knee.
He felt electricity going through him at the contact with her hand over his
clothes.
“Please, Sir,” she whimpered, “I’m good, I swear. Please, if you send me back
I’ll be punished. Please, Sir, I’ll do anything you want me to do.”
She tried to worm a hand between his legs, but he grabbed it and pushed it
back. “Don’t touch me,” he snarled, afraid of the way his skin had covered in
goose bumps with simply her touch. Afraid, the bulge in his trousers would
show.
She let go of his leg and curled herself on the floor, letting him have a clear
view of her perfect back and her round bottom as she shook with sobs.
He was a fool. He should take her right at that moment. He had paid for her and
she was throwing herself at him, imploring him to fuck her, to do to her
whatever he wanted.
He was a fool.
“Stand up,” he said dryly.
She whimpered slightly, but reacted faster than he had expected. She pushed her
hands on the floor and stood up, standing naked and dangerously close to him.
He wanted to stretch a hand and fondle her perfect breasts, but he couldn’t
bring himself to. He knew that his father would have laughed at him at that
moment. Spineless, that’s what he'd say.
“Get dressed,” he ordered her again.
She looked at him, her brown eyes shining with tears, her lips parting again as
if she was going to implore him once more. He couldn’t let her.
“Get dressed and sit down,” he said darkly, “I’m not sending you back.”
For a brief moment, she looked at him, shock painting over her beautiful
features. Then she scrambled on her feet and picked up her dress, throwing it
quickly over her head and letting the material cover her beautiful body.
He swallowed as she let herself fall once again gracefully on the floor,
sitting in front of him with her legs crossed, like a child would do. She
looked at him as if she expected him to bark some other order to her, but he
was already ashamed of his tone with her earlier. She looked like a princess,
she deserved forpeople to whisper to her in adoration, not to order her around.
He took a few steps and sat on the bed, unbuttoning his coat and taking it off.
“I…” he started unsurely, “I meant sit on the bed or the armchair, but if you
are comfortable on the floor…”
She nodded and didn’t move, and for a moment he had the horrible idea that she
thought that he wanted her to give him head and that was why she had sat on the
floor.
But her eyes looked at him as if he were a god and she was the high priestess
of his cult. She looked at him with wondrous adoration and curiosity, probably
wondering how he planned to fill the two hours he had with her, since it didn’t
look like he wanted to fuck her. He wondered if he were the first person who
refused to have sex with her.
Of course he was. He was hard just by looking at her. Surely none of her other
clients had been that pathetic.
But he just wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to hear her voice
without a pleading note in it; surely she had the sweetest voice ever. He
wanted to ask her so many things that he'd be able to write a book about her.
He cleared his throat and looked down at her. “I… I’m Scorpius,” he said
softly, “what’s your name?” He knew what the name on the card was, but maybe
that was a nickname and her real name was another one.
She beamed at him – properly beamed – and her auburn eyelashes fluttered as if
she were just happy that he would talk to her. “I’m Scarlet,” she said, and her
voice was really the sweetest and most melodious thing he had ever heard.
And that was really her name.
“Nice… nice to meet you,” he replied, fidgeting nervously in his lap.
“Nice to meet you too,” she said warmly and politely, her smile widening with
every word he said.
He tried hard to think about what he wanted to ask her first. They had two
hours, he could have taken his time, ask her something, then maybe look at her
in silence for a bit, then ask her something else…
Then suddenly something made him groan, he only had two hours with her.
Two hours and that was all. He wouldn’t have been able to see her again. To
look at her. To talk to her. He could already feel his heart clenching at that
thought, and he had only just met her.
He glanced back at her and saw that she was still smiling at him. He looked
away and felt his cheeks warming up. Was he blushing? Really?
He took a deep breath and started to talk to her. “How old are you?” he asked
nervously.
“Fifteen,” she replied gently, “my father says that I was born in September.”
He closed his eyes and groaned loudly. She was underage. Had he pushed her into
that mattress and someone had found out about it he would have been sent to
Azkaban without a trial. Prostitution and intercourse with a minor, the Prophet
would have loved to write that article about the heir of the Malfoy fortune.
“How old are you?” she asked softly, confused by his reaction.
“I’m seventeen,” he replied, looking at her, “and I was born in August.” Then
something hit him. “Who’s your father?”
The smile disappeared from her face, and she looked almost apprehensively at
him. “Mr Theodore Nott,” she replied, “the owner.”
Scorpius looked at her and frowned. He had seen Nott, she didn’t look anything
like him. He was a huge, rough man, and she looked so delicate and beautiful
and tiny. Maybe she looked a lot like her mother.
“Who’s your mother?” he asked her, wondering if maybe she was one of the older
prostitutes.
“I don’t know,” she replied softly, her voice quivering slightly, “I’ve never
met her.”
Scorpius bit his bottom lip. “Oh, is she… is she dead?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” she replied, “Father doesn’t want me to ask about her.”
He frowned at that. What kind of father would deny his daughter knowledge 
about her mother? He found himself almost laughing at that. What kind of father
would put his fifteen-year-old daughter to work in a brothel?
“Wait a second,” he said, looking at her, “so you don’t go to Hogwarts?” Of
course she didn’t. He would have noticed her. Was it legal to keep a witch or a
wizard away from school? Merlin, who cared! It was illegal to make her work as
a prostitute, that was sure.
Her lips parted in a smile once again. “Hogwarts,” she said in awe, “I’ve read
the book so many times.”
“What… what book?”
“Hogwarts: A History,” she replied, still smiling dreamily, “have you read it?”
“I… kind of,” he replied stiffly. Rose Weasley had tried to make all the
Prefects read it back in September, but they had all refused. He had read the
first two chapters and fallen asleep on the third one. “Do you like to read?”
he asked her gently.
“Oh yes,” she said, nodding forcefully, her beautiful hair cascading over her
shoulders, “I love to read. I read every day.” She looked at him curiously and
added, “Do you like to read?”
He hated it, but he would have said yes even if she had asked him if he wanted
her to torture him. “I love it,” he replied softly.
She looked like she had found her kindred spirit. “Oh, have you ever read The
Tale of Viridina the Witch and Her Handsome Knight?” she asked, still smiling.
“It’s my favourite book, I’ve read it twenty-four times.”
He looked at her and chuckled at her enthusiasm. He had heard the name of that
book, a romance with a silly young witch who was locked in a tower without her
wand, until a knight came to her rescue after having defeated dragons and an
evil hag and many other tasks. His mother surely had it in her personal library
at the Manor. “I haven’t read it,” he admitted, “but maybe you can tell me
about it?”
She looked at him as if it was Christmas morning and he was exactly the present
that she had longed to find under the tree the whole year. She nodded eagerly
and started to tell him the story from the very beginning, reciting some
passages by heart, standing up to mime a duel between the knight and the hag,
flushing when she had to describe the kiss between Viridina and the knight.
And throughout the story Scorpius couldn’t do anything but stare at her, at her
beautiful face, at her hair moving sinuously around her, at her swift feet
dancing around the room, at her long, white arms moving about.
He was so entranced by this gorgeous creature, he almost didn’t notice she had
finished her tale and was sitting once again and looking at him with her
beautiful, big eyes, waiting for him to ask her something else.
He blinked a couple of times and looked down at her, wanting, more than
anything, to try to find something to tell her about a book he had read. Not
one of his textbooks, even though he suspected that she would have listened to
him with rapt enthusiasm even if he told her about One Thousand Magical Herbs
and Fungi by Phyllida Spore. “Have you ever read The Tales of Beedle the Bard?”
he finally asked, knowing full well that he was cheating, because he had never
read the book himself, but his mother had told him all the stories more than
once, thus making him confident enough to be able to tell her one of them.
She shook her head, beaming and expecting him to tell her everything about it.
“It’s a collections of tales,” he said, “my favourite one is The Tale of the
Three—”
His sentence was interrupted by a loud and tinkling bell coming from somewhere
over the bed.
She turned her head towards it and her face fell. The pain and delusion that
painted her features made Scorpius’ heart clench. “I have to go,” she said
wretchedly.
“What?” he asked in disbelief, checking his watch. It was indeed one in the
morning, and indeed the two hours had gone by in a flash. How long had her tale
gone on? How could they have talked like that without noticing for two hours?
No! It was too early, he needed her to stay longer, he couldn’t let her go. He
wanted her to stay. Could he keep her for the whole night? How much would that
cost?
But she was already standing up and smoothing her dress.
“I… I’ll bring you the book next time,” he blurted out without thinking and
biting his tongue only when it was too late. He didn’t have money. Would his
father pay for another hour with her? What would his mother think?
But all that was soon forgotten when her dejected expression changed suddenly,
and she smiled hopefully at him. “Are you coming back?” she asked, her voice
thick with emotion.
He tried to smirk at her, but all he could manage was a dumb smile. “Would you
like that?” he couldn’t help asking, before he silently chastised himself for
his arrogance.
She was kneeling next to him with her hands on the bed before he could even
understand that she had moved. “Oh yes, please,” she said imploringly, looking
up at him, “nobody ever listens to me when I talk about the books that I read.”
She lowered her eyes and added, “Uncle Gregory laughs at me and Father says
that I’m a silly little girl…”
“You… you are not,” he said softly, “you are very intelligent.”
She smiled gratefully at him. “So you’ll come back,” she whispered hopefully.
“Of course,” he whispered back, unable to say anything else to her. “I’ll come
back soon.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked, her hands fisting the bedspread as she looked at him
pleadingly.
He felt a knot at his throat. If he promised to go back the next day and then
he didn’t, she would be crushed. He swallowed and opened his mouth to reply,
but at that moment the bell started to sound even louder and more insistently
than before and Scarlet jumped to her feet and looked at him with her imploring
eyes once more before telling him something that he couldn’t hear because of
the noise, and finally hurrying towards the door and outside.
The moment she had left the room and disappeared in the corridor, the sound
subdued and Scorpius was left there with a ringing in his ears and a throbbing
heart.
He felt like she had been a dream. One of those pleasant, wonderful dreams that
one wakes up from with longing and despair. Longing because it had been
beautiful, and despair because it was over.
He shook his head. That was ridiculous. He didn’t even know her and yet, he
felt like a stupid, quivering Hufflepuff. Falling in love with someone at
first—
He stood from the bed and shook his head more forcefully. He was not in love
with her. She was beautiful and perfect, and her smile and her eyes had melted
his heart, but that was not how a Malfoy behaved. Malfoys didn’t fall in love
with someone because she was perfect; they fell in love with the most suitable
marriage prospect. And if they didn’t fall in love, all the better. He was not
in love with her.
He put on his coat and started to walk towards the round room from which he had
arrived.
She was not someone to marry anyway. She was a prostitute. A prostitute. He had
forgotten about that for the two hours he had spent with her. He had always
imagined prostitutes to be vulgar, covered in heavy makeup and wearing
provocative underwear that left very little to the imagination.
Instead, she was an angel. Yes, she was angelic, that was the best way he could
find to describe her. And nobody, especially not his father, was to know that
he hadn’t fucked her.
He opened the door and walked back into the round room. There was a tall, thin
man at the counter, someone who looked way too old to be there. Someone who
looked like he had grandchildren waiting for him at home.
He was talking to Charles and he was smiling and nodding softly, as if they had
known each other for a long time.
Scorpius felt a surge of jealousy at the thought that he might have been
Scarlet’s next client. At the idea that he wouldn’t have wanted to just talk to
her, he felt his blood boil in his veins.
But luckily he wasn’t going inside, he was just leaving with a flutter of his
cloak.
Scorpius approached the counter, and Charles smiled at him. “Was she of your
liking, Sir?”
“I want to see her again,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Charles looked at him with almost a sneer on his face. He lowered his voice as
he brought his head closer to him. “She does have that effect on everybody,” he
murmured, and Scorpius had to dig his nails into his palms to avoid punching
him. Charles straightened up and looked at Scorpius intently. “You mean that
you want another appointment with her,” he specified.
Scorpius flushed with anger at his condescending tone. “Yes,” he seethed.
“Of course, Sir,” he said, flipping the pages of the registry he had in front
of him. “When would you like to book her?”
“Tomorrow,” he said anxiously.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Sir,” he said distractedly, “she’s not free until next week.”
Scorpius felt as if his heart had been carved out of his chest at those words.
He could still hear her “Tomorrow?” spoken with such desperation, such longing
to see him again.
“When?” he asked, trying not to sound too desperate, but not sure he succeeded.
“Sunday evening,” replied Charles.
That was a week from that night. Scorpius felt his stomach being turned upside
down at the thought of not seeing her for all that time. He felt sick when he
reminded himself that all those hours when she was not free to see him, were
hours when she was with someone else.
“Okay,” he said, defeated, “Sunday evening.”
“One hour or two?” asked Charles lightly.
Then suddenly Scorpius realised that he didn’t have money. “How… how much is
one hour?” he asked unsurely.
Charles looked at him curiously.
“Tonight was a present,” he hissed, feeling his cheeks getting warmer.
“Of course, Sir,” he replied, opening a drawer and taking out the same ‘Menu’
that he had found in the room. Scarlet was the last one there, the picture he
hadn’t managed to reach. She looked almost scared as she sat on a chair, her
feet dangling a few inches from the floor. A shy smile appearing on her lips,
right after she looked in terror at her left. As if someone out of the picture
was barking at her to smile. His heart clenched again.
“This is her price,” said Charles, pointing with his finger at a number at the
bottom of the page.
Scorpius swallowed. Five hundred Galleons. She was worth five hundred Galleons,
and he had just spent two hours talking to her. And he was about to pay another
five hundred Galleons to talk to her for another hour.
But blimey! He would have paid twice that price for half of the time with her.
Charles took the Menu and flipped through the other pages. “In case you find
yourself struggling to get to that money,” he said silkily, “we have many other
options that are much more affordable.”
Scorpius looked at the other girls and women. They all looked hideous now to
him. But, Merlin! Were those really the prices for them? None of them had three
digits like Scarlet’s price. Screw that, none of them was higher than fifty
Galleons!
He felt a surge of hatred and relief, simultaneously, at Nott for making her so
inaccessible. But if she was all booked for a week, it meant that many people
considered her worthy of that money. Scorpius felt the relief disappear as
quickly as it came.
He raised his eyes on the wizard. “Can I pay you next week?” he asked him
dryly.
The wizard shook his head. “You can pay us upuntil the day before your
appointment,” he explained as he prepared another card for him, “if you don’t
send the money at least twenty-four hours before your scheduled time, your card
will turn to ashes and you will have to reschedule.”
He handed him the card and Scorpius turned it in his hands three times. His
name, a new date and a new time appeared and at the bottom… her name. So pretty
that he couldn’t help but brushing his fingertip over it.
“We are glad you enjoyed your experience tonight,” said Charles with a smirk in
his voice. “We hope to see you next week, Sir.”
He looked warily at him, before turning on his heels and unsteadily making his
way on the rugs towards the curtain that led to the stairs.
Scarlet’s face appeared in front of his eyelids every time he blinked.
And he kept blinking all the way back home.
***** Chapter IV *****
                                      ***
Nott’s fingers curled around Scarlet’s hip as he pushed into her from behind.
He could see her hand fisting the pillow as she tried to smother a cry against
the material. He stopped only when he was all the way inside and her round,
perfect buttocks rested against his pelvis. He liked to take her like that, on
his side, with her smooth back pressed against his chest. But it was a
difficult and straining position, and he always ended up flipping her onto her
stomach and pushing her into the mattress.
He leant closer to her and kissed her cheek. “You’re tight tonight, Scarlet,”
he said silkily. “Have they all fucked you well?”
She looked in front of her and swallowed, her long fingers curling tightly
against the pillow. She nodded lightly.
Nott grunted in appreciation as he exited her and pushed back in, feeling her
walls snug around him.
“Even the Malfoy boy?” he asked, pulling out again and thrusting back into her.
She didn’t reply, but she arched her back and scrunched her eyes shut when he
pushed into her particularly hard. “Answer me,” he snapped, slapping her hip
and making her gasp.
“I… I don’t know who he is,” she almost sobbed.
He pulled out and leisurely pushed in a few other times, before closing a hand
around her neck and tilting her head back as he leant closer. “The young, blond
boy, who had you for two hours,” he whispered. “Was he satisfied? Were you a
good whore for him?”
She lowered her eyes like she used to do when she was embarrassed. And he
groaned. He loved to see her flush and become all shy for him. It didn’t happen
often enough lately. “Scarlet,” he grunted warningly when she didn’t reply.
“Yes,” she whimpered, “yes, he was… satisfied…”
He slid his arm under her breasts as he flipped her on her stomach, his
erection never exiting her. “Good,” he murmured against her ear before he
started to shove into her viciously. Her cries of pain and discomfort were like
a melody that urged him on and it only took him a few minutes to come deep
inside of her and collapse on her shaking body.
“Good,” he whispered again, kissing her neck and her cheek, “you’re such a good
daughter… Good…”
And as he pulled out of her he couldn’t help wondering what Potter would think
of his daughter fucking Malfoy’s son. And he fell asleep with a smile on his
lips and an arm tight around Scarlet’s waist.
***
The wooden floor board next to Rose’s bedroom creaked, in the dead of night, as
Hugo stepped on it. He pushed the door of his sister’s bedroom open and peeked
inside.
“Rose,” he whispered.
There was no reply, she was breathing softly. Sound asleep.
Hugo walked inside and closed the door at his back. “Rose,” he repeated.
She let out a sleepy, “Hmm,” and her eyelids fluttered.
“Rose,” he called her a third time, walking to the other side of her big, queen
size bed and sitting down.
“Hugo,” she murmured, trying to open her eyes, “what’s the time?”
“It’s almost five,” he replied.
“In the afternoon?” she asked, her blue eyes opening wide.
He shook his head. “In the morning,” he replied. “Can I sleep here?”
She groaned and closed her eyes again. “Hugo, you’re a grown up now,” she said
sleepily, “you can’t come here every time you can’t sleep.”
“I had that dream…” he said softly, his voice tiny.
Rose opened her eyes to look at him again, before closing them once more. “Get
in,” she finally conceded. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked as he
raised the covers and slipped inside, rolling on his side to face her.
“It’s always the same,” he replied dejectedly.
Rose nodded and yawned. “Well, talk about it,” she said. “Remember what they
said at St Mungo’s, the more you talk about it the less it’ll haunt you.”
Hugo considered her words carefully. He didn’t believe them at all. He had
spent six years talking about his dream and he was still haunted by it now.
“Hugo,” murmured  Rose, “talk now before I fall asleep again.”
He sighed and closed his eyes. “It was the same dream that I always dream,
Rose,” he replied, “Lily and I were at Grandma’s, and it was sunny. Then,
suddenly, the sun goes away and we turn and there’s this man, he is tall and
masked. Lily and I look at him, we are scared, but we don’t run away. And he
points his wand at Lily and she falls back.” He tried to keep his voice steady,
but Rose’s fingertips on his cheeks let him know that she was looking for
tears. “I remember her face as if it was yesterday,” he continued, “I remember
I thought that she was sleeping. I remember her hair splayed under her head,
and I didn’t do anything. I… I didn’t do anything…” He was crying now and
Rose’s fingertips really brushed away tears.
“Shh,” she quieted him, “shh, Hugo it’s all right.”
“I… I could have cried,” he choked, “I could have screamed for Grandma… You
would have done that, Rose…”
“You were scared, Hugo,” she murmured soothingly, “you were scared…” She smiled
sadly with her eyes closed. “And what if I were there and I screamed? What if
you had screamed? He would have grabbed Lily, and Disapparated with her before
Grandma could even hear you crying…”
“I should have done something,” he sniffled.
“You were nine, Hugo,” she soothed him, “you didn’t even have a wand.”
“I should have kicked him or bitten him…”
“And then he would have killed you,” she said, caressing his cheek, “no, I’m
glad you didn’t do anything stupid…”
Hugo sniffled loudly and Rose wormed her way towards him and kissed his
forehead like their mother would do. 
“Rose,” he whispered.
“Hmm?”
“Do you think… do you think she’s still alive?” he choked out.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
Hugo nodded. “I… I miss her,” he confessed.
“I miss her too, Hugo. I miss her too.”
***
“The Tale of Viridina the Witch and Her Handsome Knight?” asked his mother
surprised. “I might have it, Scorpius, why?”
Scorpius tried to wave a hand dismissively at her. “I wanted something to read
during the holidays.”
“A romance novel?” she enquired, cocking an eyebrow questioningly. “And since
when do you read for your enjoyment?”
Scorpius looked away, his face darkening. “I read for my own enjoyment,” he
hissed, “I just... don’t do it that often.”
His mother pursed her lips, probably wanting to state that he didn’t do it at
all. Never. And she would have been right. Instead, she turned and started to
browse the shelves of the corner of the library that his father had reserved
just for her, ever since they got married.
Scorpius looked at the volumes as well. Thousands and thousands of them, they
covered both floors of the library, from floor to ceiling, and he was sure
there were more books behind the ones on the front. He couldn’t help thinking
about Scarlet, and how much she would have enjoyed sitting there and reading.
She had read a book twenty-four times; he was sure that that meant that Nott
didn’t have that many books for her to read at all.
“Here,” said his mother, handing him an old edition of the novel. On the cover,
a beautiful witch, with dark hair and big blue eyes, was swooning in the arms
of her handsome knight. “Don’t let your father know that you’re reading such a
piece of literature,” she said sweetly, “otherwise he’ll think that you have
lost your mind.”
He didn’t reply to her, he just brushed his palm on the cover to dust it a
little. “Do we have The Tales of Beedle the Bard?” he asked, looking at her.
She looked half-annoyed and half-surprised. “Of course we do, Scorpius,” she
replied curtly, “I gave it to you for your fifth birthday. It should be
somewhere in your room, I suspect.” She flared her nostrils. “Unless you’ve
thrown it away.”
“I’m sure I haven’t,” he replied darkly. He wasn’t sure at all. “I… where’s
Father?”
“Gringotts,” she replied lightly, “taking care of some vault adjustments they
are making. Did you need to talk to him?”
He nodded softly.
“About last night?” she asked sharply.
He looked at her a bit taken aback. He didn’t want to discuss those things with
his mother. Neither the fact that he had been with a prostitute, nor that he
hadn’t been. “I need to ask him a favour,” he replied darkly. “Now, if you will
excuse me, Mother, I need to go and find a book.”
And he stalked away, hoping to find the volume in his bedroom.
***
Scarlet had tried to read her favourite book the whole morning. But the tome
had been lying open in her lap for hours, and she hadn’t been able to go past
the first few lines.
She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t even see the words in front of her. All she
could see was the face of the young man she had met the night before. Scorpius.
Never had a name sounded sweeter to her. The way he had looked at her, the way
he had listened to her, the way he had talked to her. As if she were a
princess. As if she were Viridina and he was her knight.
A loud crack distracted Scarlet from her musings, and she held her breath as
she heard some quick steps nearing the wardrobe. She tried to push her father’s
heavy coats in front of her, sheltering herself from view, in case someone
opened the shutters, but it wasn’t enough.
The doors opened quickly and a tiny, brown hand closed around her wrist. “Miss
Scarlet shouldn’t hide from Taffy,” squealed the little house-elf, “Taffy
looked for her everywhere!”
She sighed as she let the house-elf drag her out. She stood up, towering over
the creature and smoothing her dress.
“Miss Scarlet was reading the book again,” sighed Taffy. “How Miss Scarlet can
read in the wardrobe, Taffy doesn’t know!”
“I wasn’t reading, Taffy,” she said with a little smile, “I was thinking…”
“Thinking of what, Taffy wonders,” she almost snorted.
Scarlet knelt in front of the house-elf as she was closing the doors of the
wardrobe. “I met my handsome knight last night, Taffy,” she said smiling, her
voice fluttering up high like the wings of butterflies.
Taffy looked at her with two huge, worried eyes. “Is Miss Scarlet sick?” she
asked. “Is she dreaming dreams that look like reality?”
Scarlet shook her head. “No,” she whispered, “he was real.” She smiled and let
herself fall to her back on the floor, arms stretched above her head as she
remembered. “He was tall and blonde, and he had eyes of silver. And he was
handsome and gentle and… he likes to read! No, he loves to read.”
Taffy looked down at her, her long nose almost poking her cheek. “What is Miss
Scarlet talking about?” she asked concerned.
“He came and stayed for two hours,” she replied dreamily, “and we talked and
talked and talked… and the two hours flew away…” She raised her head and turned
to look at Taffy. “And he promised me he would come back,” she whispered
urgently. “Tonight!”
“Oh,” said Taffy, grabbing her arm and trying to make her rise from the floor.
“Then Miss Scarlet needs to take a bath and get ready.”
Scarlet sat up and brought her knees to her chest. “I don’t want to take a bath
today,” she whispered, the very thought of walking into the girls’ bathroom and
letting the other girls have fun at her expense made her want to stay dirty all
her life.
“Oh, but Taffy looked for Miss Scarlet everywhere for that!” exclaimed the elf.
“The bathroom is empty. The girls are still sleeping!” she added, lowering her
voice.
“Really?” asked Scarlet meekly. That was what Taffy always said to make her go
and take her bath when she didn’t want to. And it wasn’t always true.
Taffy helped her to her feet and nodded profusely. “Really,” she replied, “and
handsome knights don’t like smelly whores.”
Scarlet lowered her eyes as she followed Taffy out of the bedroom she shared
with her father. No, Taffy was probably right, handsome knights didn’t like
smelly whores.
They walked silently on the cold stones of the corridor, and when Taffy pushed
the door of the bathroom open, Scarlet was relieved to see that the bathroom
was really empty.
She walked inside and closed the door at her back, resisting the temptation to
lock it. The last time she had done that, the girls had called Father and she
had to take cold baths for a month as punishment.
“Miss Scarlet gets undressed,” said Taffy, “and Taffy runs the bath.” She
turned on the tap of one of the smaller bathtubs and emptied almost an entire
jar of a dense soap inside. The water turned all the colours of the rainbows in
turn and started to send out a sweet scent of roses.
Scarlet let the dress fall at her feet and stepped over it, before going to
stand near the bathtub. “Miss Scarlet gets inside and Taffy will wash her
hair,” said the house-elf gingerly.
Scarlet nodded and stepped over the edge, sitting down in the water. She could
feel the warm hand of the elf on her forehead as Taffy pushed her head
backwards and under the water. The girls always tried to drown her when they
did that to her, but she trusted Taffy and let her do it without a word. When
her hair was completely soaked the house-elf let her come out of the water
again.
She laid her shoulders against the bathtub and Taffy gathered the flaming locks
in her little hands and started to lather them up with her special shampoo.
Scarlet closed her eyes and sighed as the elf massaged her scalp gently. “He
was so handsome, Taffy,” she murmured, “I think I’m in love… just like
Viridina…”
“Miss Scarlet shouldn’t say these things,” squealed Taffy, “if her father hears
her… he will put her in the playroom!”
“If her father hears what?” asked a sharp voice near the door.
Scarlet’s eyes opened wide as she heard Lulu’s voice and her swift, approaching
steps. Taffy whined softly and tightened her hands in her hair.
“Keeping secrets from Daddy, are we?” asked Lulu, looking down at Scarlet with
her hands on her naked hips.
“No,” she whispered, “I… I…”
Lulu rolled her eyes. “Move elf,” she barked rudely, pushing Taffy away, who
fell to the floor with a squeal. “I’ll take it from here.”
Scarlet sat up and turned to look at Lulu, a hand protectively on her hair. “I…
I want Taffy to do it,” she whispered.
Lulu sneered at her. “Oh, and then she doesn’t think she is a princess,” she
hissed, grabbing Scarlet’s shoulders and positioning her back against the tub
once again, “ordering us around like she owns the place. I want Taffy to do
it…” She grabbed her hair and started to massage her head forcefully, scraping
her scalp on purpose.
Scarlet scrunched her eyes closed, but she bit her bottom lip with force,
trying hard to suffocate the whimpers and not let her know that she was hurting
her.
“This hair is too long,” snapped Lulu, “it’s ridiculous. You look like a
horse.” She snickered and added, “Have you ever even seen a horse?”
Scarlet shook her head and Lulu just grabbed her more forcefully. “Don’t move,”
she snapped, “talk. Merlin, do you have a mouth? Is it good only to blow your
clients, or what?” She didn’t wait for her answer as she shoved her forward and
pushed her head under the water.
Scarlet gasped, flailing her hands as she tried to find the rim of the tub to
pull herself up, but Lulu was keeping her down and she heard her laughing from
outside the water. The noise that reached her ears through the liquid was
grotesque and almost scary. It was only when she started to gulp down the
bubbly water and her hand slipped from the rim that Lulu let her up.
She coughed and spluttered as she emerged, and grabbed the edge to move away
from Lulu. Taffy squealed pitifully at her and went to pat her back to help her
expel the soapy water.
“Oh, what a drama queen,” snorted Lulu, “if your hair was shorter it would be
less heavy, and you wouldn’t always drown when you take a bath.” She smirked
and murmured, “I can take care of that.”
“No!” squealed the house-elf, standing with a finger raised towards Lulu.
“Taffy will tell Master if Lulu cuts Miss Scarlet’s hair. Master will put Lulu
in the playroom for a week.”
Lulu glared at Taffy, and Scarlet tried to make herself smaller in hope of 
disappearing amongst the bubbles. Her mouth still tasted like soap, and she
felt like she had water in her chest. It was, naturally, all in her head, as
Taffy had told her the first time Lulu had done that to her.
“Lie down,” said Lulu snappishly, taking her eyes away from Taffy to look at
Scarlet.
Scarlet shook her head. “No,” she said feebly.
Lulu knelt near the bathtub and splashed some water into Scarlet’s face, making
her squeal like Taffy. “You have to be clean for tonight, little princess,” she
hissed, “a clean whore for her clients…”
“Taffy already washed me,” she said, her body shaking in the corner of the tub.
Lulu grabbed something from the floor and raised it in front of her eyes. “Then
why is your sponge all dry?” she asked sharply. She splashed more water in her
face and added, “Don’t lie to me, Scarlet, you know I don’t like it when you
lie to me…” She grabbed her hair and pulled her back down, her head smacking
against the rim of the tub.
She let out a whimper at the pain, but soon she was squirming under the sponge
and Lulu’s rough treatment. The girl soaked the sponge and started to brush her
breasts forcefully, her long nails scraping her skin and making her whine.
“No nails!” squealed Taffy, perching over the tub to look at her. “Master
doesn’t want you to leave marks!”
Lulu rolled her eyes as she let the sponge fluctuate on the water and moved her
hand south. “What about marks where nobody can see?” she asked softly, moving
her nails between her thighs.
Scarlet gasped and closed her legs, using one hand to try to push away her
fingers, splashing water everywhere in the process.
“Hey!” spluttered Lulu, withdrawing her hand. “Stupid little girl! I’m soaked.”
A high pitched laugh came from the door, and both Scarlet and Lulu turned to
look at a tall young woman with blonde hair and big, blue eyes. She shook her
head and made her way towards the bathtub. “You always have to have fun without
us, Lulu,” she scolded playfully.
Lulu snorted. “You sleep too much, Freya,” she replied. “Maybe you can help me
here.”
Freya smiled nastily as she grabbed Scarlet’s wrists. “With pleasure,” she
hissed.
Scarlet cried so much that they had to push her underwater again while Lulu
scraped the walls of her cunt until she bled, making the water turn crimson
between her legs.
“Now you are all clean and ready for tonight,” hissed Lulu, as her fingers
exited her and she let her go, “inside and out.”
The laughter of the girls was the only thing she could hear as Taffy helped her
stand on shaky legs, and walk out of the tub. The elf cleaned the blood away,
dried her and brushed her hair.
And Scarlet closed her eyes and imagined her handsome knight would come and
take her away from that place.
***** Chapter V *****
                                      ***
Harry was looking at a brochure for memorial services before Christmas,”
murmured Ron, sipping his morning coffee from the cup that Rose had gotten him
for Christmas. The words #1 Dadflashed on it every time he brought it to his
lips.
Hermione sighed as she put the bacon strips on top of the eggs and walked, with
the two plates, back to the table. Her children were still asleep; that was
what they did during the Christmas holiday. Instead of being up and ready to
spend time with their parents – whom they didn’t see for the whole year –, they
slept until ten or eleven. Hugo even until midday, at times. But, they worked
hard all year at Hogwarts, they deserved a bit of rest when they were at home.
“I know,” she said, poking her scrambled eggs with the fork. “Ginny was in
tears when she told me. She said she won’t let him have a memorial for Lily,
not even in a hundred years.”
Ron sighed. “I don’t know what to say,” he replied softly, cutting the bacon,
“I think it could be good for them, you know, to have some kind of closure.
That’s what Harry said, anyway… But…”
“But what about Hugo and your mother?” asked Hermione with a sigh. “He still
dreams about it, and your mother keeps saying that it was all her fault; that
she should have paid them more attention, that she shouldn’t have let them
wander out of the house and into the fields.” She lowered her voice and added,
“She still cries at night.” 
“I know,” he agreed, “if they were to have a memorial, they would suffocate
that last hope that keeps Mum from going insane and Hugo from falling into the
deepest pits of depression.”
Hermione nodded forcefully, her curls bobbing around her face. “I wish you
could find her,” she said, almost angrily, “I mean, alive or… not. I wish you
could at least find the body.”
“It would be a relief,” he sighed, nodding.
“Except for Hugo and your mother, I know,” she added, “but at least we would
know. And Harry and Ginny… they would be able to move on…”
“I know,” he murmured. “Teddy said that he might have found another trail.
Something that has to do with Wales and the unicorn trade.”
Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Where they would need a
little virgin girl to attract the unicorns,” she said, shaking her head. “He
had found so many leads in six years, and every time he reaches a dead end, I
wonder if he’ll ever get tired.”
“She was his first case,” Ron reminded her, “while he was still a trainee. And
you know that Lily was like a sister to him.” He stopped with the fork in mid-
air and swallowed. “I meant is. She is like a sister to him.”
Hermione looked at him; eyes filled with misery as she nodded gently.
Suddenly, the door of the kitchen swung open and Rose, hair in disarray and a
dressing gown loosely tied over her pyjamas, walked inside, yawning soundly.
“Ah,” said Ron, grinning at the sight of his daughter, “our Head Girl is
finally up.” He checked the Grandfather Clock and added, “And it’s only ten
thirty.”
Rose nodded at him distractedly, still too sleepy to acknowledge him with a
spoken greeting. She grabbed a bowland poured herself some cereal, before
drowning them in a milk waterfall and sitting across from her mother at the
kitchen table. She dug into the cereal bowl and stopped with the spoon in front
of her face. She blinked and looked at her parents’ plates, filled with bacon
and eggs, then she turned towards the empty pans.
“Mum!” she almost whined.
“Well, good morning to you too, darling,” replied Hermione with a smile.
Rose pouted. “I want bacon and eggs too,” she protested. “You made them just
for you and Dad.”
“And they are delicious,” said Ron with a grin, bringing a forkful of eggs to
his mouth and chewing noisily. “This bacon, especially, there’s something about
it… Merlin, Rosie, get yourself some… it’s—”
“Finished,” grinned Hermione, “which is a pity, because it’s so good, isn’t it,
Ron?”
“Mouth-watering.”
Rose pushed the cereal into her mouth and chewed on them with a pout on her
face. “Can I have bacon and eggs tomorrow?” she asked, glancing hopefully at
her mother.
She smiled at her and shook her head. “Oh Rose, your father and I are just
having you on, I’ll get you some straight away.”
Rose beamed at her as she stood and Summoned eggs and bacon from the fridge.
“Thank you, Mum, you are the best,” she said gleefully. “By the way, can I go
to Uncle George’s shop this afternoon? I want to meet up with Fred and Roxy to
decide what to do on New Year’s Eve.”
“I thought we were all going to Grimmauld Place on New Year’s Eve,” replied Ron
rather stiffly, picking up his mug again.
Rose looked at him and bit her bottom lip. “We thought we would go to a
Wizarding club or something, Dad,” she said softly, “you know, since we are all
of age…”
“Rose, you know what we think about—”
“Yes I know,” she cut him off urgently, “but Dad, we are all of age, we all
have a wand and we are not going to be alone. We’re all staying together. I
promise that nothing bad will happen.” She smiled softly and added, “Aunt Ginny
is letting Al and James go…”
“Is she?” asked Hermione, biting her bottom lip. She looked at Ron and he
looked back at her. “I suppose… if James is going and… is Teddy going?”
“Yes,” replied Rose, nodding forcefully. “And Victoire and Dom… everybody,
really…”
“We’ll talk about it,” said Ron seriously.
“Dad…”
“I said we’ll talk about it,” he repeated. “It’s not a no, Rosie. It’s just… I
want to make sure that you’ll be looked after.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m of age, I can look after myself,” she said a bit too
hotly.
“Rose, your father is only trying to protect you,” coaxed Hermione gently.
“I can protect myself, Mum,” she protested, sighing.
“I said we’ll talk about it,” said Ron a third and final time, his tone much
more serious than before.
And that was when the conversation stopped and Rose just nodded softly, waiting
for the bacon and eggs that her mother had promised her.
***
“Five hundred Galleons?”
Scorpius nodded nervously. “Yes.”
Draco quirked an eyebrow at him. “That’s a lot of money, Scorpius,” he said
silkily, “even for a wealthy family such as ours.”
Scorpius seemed to try very hard to hold his father’s stare, but failed
miserably, his grey eyes looking away, his cheeks colouring slightly after a
few seconds. “I know,” he replied, his voice cold, “I want you to consider it
an advance on my inheritance.”
“And what would be the purpose of such a sum of money?” he asked softly. Draco
thought he knew, and somehow he was definitely not happy about it.
Scorpius looked resolute when he replied, “Going back to Nott & Goyle.”
The older man snorted softly at his son’s admission. “That was exactly what
your mother feared,” he said sharply, “that you would want to go back there as
soon as you got out of it.” He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “Five
hundred Galleons,” he repeated with contempt in his voice, “how many times do
you want to go back? Every night for a month?”
Scorpius’ jaw set. “Just once,” he replied urgently, “I want to see her again.”
Draco narrowed his eyes. “And that’s what Nott warned me about,” he said
quietly. “He said she was good, but also… what was the word he used? Addictive…
I told him that my son was far better than that. I must have been mistaken.”
Scorpius pressed his lips into a thin line and didn’t reply.
“You know the answer is no, don’t you, Scorpius?” asked Draco placidly. His son
really didn’t expect him to give him more money to go see a prostitute, did he?
The first time had been a gift, a little present to help him rid himself of the
burden of his virginity. But it was not to become a habit.
Scorpius swallowed and, somehow, he seemed to look more resolute than before.
“I’ve already booked another hour with her,” he said firmly.
“Well, cancel it,” replied Draco dismissively.
“I can’t.”
Draco narrowed his eyes. “Why?” he asked in a hiss. “Are you having
difficulties locating parchment and a quill to write to Nott?”
Scorpius bit his bottom lip. “They said I couldn’t cancel it,” he continued, a
slight quiver in his voice, “there’ll be… repercussions if I do.”
Draco stared at him for a long moment. Scorpius’ face was impassive. He was a
real Malfoy after all. And for a moment, Draco didn’t know if he was bluffing
or not. He remembered Nott telling him something about clients who had been in
need of Goyle’s rough treatment, but he had never specified the reason or what
this treatment included. And if Scorpius wasn’t bluffing, they probably
wouldn’t have spared those repercussions on his family just because Draco had
shared a dorm with them for seven years.
“Is she really as beautiful as Nott claims her to be?” he asked his son
haughtily.
Scorpius nodded softly.
“Was she worth the money?”
He nodded again and lowered his eyes, his face colouring.
Draco stared at him for another long, quiet moment. The situation was almost
comical, even though Draco didn’t want to laugh at all. Scorpius looked like a
child asking for a new toy, when he was actually a young man wanting money for
a prostitute.
“An advance on your inheritance,” he said softly, caving in at the thought of
Goyle torturing them to get the money. “I have to go to Gringotts tomorrow in
the morning, and you’re coming with me. You’ll have papers to sign.”
Scorpius looked up at him with eyes wide. “Thank you, Father,” he said, his
lips curling into an involuntary smile.
Draco waved a hand in front of his face. “Just this once, Scorpius,” he replied
darkly. “You are not to book another hour with her, am I understood?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Leave me now,” he added coldly, nodding, “I have work to do.”
Scorpius nodded and jumped on his feet, walking briskly and indecorously
happily towards the door.
“Scorpius,” Draco called him. “Don’t ask me for anything else until next
Christmas.”
***
By the time Taffy walked into the bedroom, Scarlet had already been crying on
the bed for hours. Her pillowcase was soaked, and her throat hurt with every
sob that escaped her lips. Her small hands clutched the material, as if life
depended on it, and her body shook with her irrepressible weeping.
“Why is Miss Scarlet not ready?” squealed the house-elf agitatedly. “It’s
almost time!”
She shook her head and sobbed, “I don’t want to work tonight, Taffy.”
The house-elf hurried to her side and placed a comforting little hand on her
arm. “Is Miss Scarlet sore again? Does she need a potion?”
“No,” she sniffled, “I just don’t want to work…”
Taffy snorted through her long nose. “That is not an excuse that Master will
like,” she said sensibly, “Master will put Miss Scarlet in the playroom.”
Her bottom lip quivered at the thought, but she whispered bravely, “I don’t
care…”
“But Taffy cares,” said the house-elf, her big mouth stretching into a
comforting smile. “Taffy doesn’t like it when Miss Scarlet is punished. Taffy
has to spread ointments that stink on Miss Scarlet’s poor skin, and in her poor
cunt, and in her poor arsehole.”
Scarlet swallowed at the thought. She rolled onto her back and brought a hand
to her chest, closing her eyes. “I think my heart is broken, Taffy,” she
sobbed, “I think I’m going to die.”
Taffy grabbed her arm and tugged her forcefully, dragging her towards the edge
of the bed and pushing her legs down to bring her up and make her sit straight.
She climbed on the bed behind her and Scarlet could feel her little hands in
her hair, trying to comb the knots out of her locks.
“He never came, Taffy,” she sniffled, “I waited for him night after night, and
he never came.” She brushed away the tears from her cheeks and new ones
replaced them immediately. “I don’t think he loves me,” she added in a whisper.
“I think he hates me…”
The elf patted her shoulder lightly. “Nobody can hate Miss Scarlet,” she said
sweetly, “Miss Scarlet is too beautiful and nice.”
Scarlet shook her head. “Everybody hates me, Taffy,” she replied, her voice
pained, “the girls hate me…”
“The girls are stupid and ugly,” snorted Taffy. “They are jealous of Miss
Scarlet.” She managed to untangle the last knots, and jumped down from the bed.
She pushed a little stool near Scarlet’s legs, climbed on it and started to
clean her face, and blow her nose and put a potion in her eyes to get rid of
the redness.
“Sometimes I think Father hates me too,” she added softly, as Taffy worked hard
to make her look presentable.
Taffy shook her head frantically. “Oh no,” she squealed, “Master loves Miss
Scarlet. She is his favourite.”
Scarlet lowered her eyes. She was his favourite. He never had anybody else in
his bed but her, even though sometimes she wished that he did.
“There, there,” said Taffy, patting her cheek lightly, “Miss Scarlet is
beautiful again.” The elf cupped her cheeks and tilted her head back, surveying
her work attentively.
Scarlet looked into the big eyes of the little creature, seeing her own
reflection in them. She didn’t look like she had cried at all. Taffy was a good
house-elf. She smiled softly at the creature to show her thankfulness.
Taffy squealed in delight at her smile. “Miss Scarlet has to work,” she said,
jumping down from the stool, “what if her handsome knight comes tonight and he
doesn’t find her?”
Scarlet considered her words and the breath almost caught in her throat at the
thought that if he came that night and she didn’t go to work, he would never
find her again. “He will get angry with me,” she murmured fretfully.
Taffy nodded forcefully. “Yes,” she replied, tugging at Scarlet’s wrist to make
her stand up. The elf walked around her and smoothed her dress, placing her
crimson ribbon right under her breasts. “There,” she said, “Miss Scarlet is all
ready to work.”
At that moment, the bell that signalled the beginning of the night rang, and
Scarlet hurried out of the bedroom and into the round room with the other
girls.
Her heart filled with hope at the thought of seeing her knight again.
***** Chapter VI *****
                                     *** 
Scorpius had signed more papers than he deemed appropriate for an advance on
his inheritance. Especially since he was the only heir to the Malfoy fortune
and everything that was now owned by his parents would one day be his. And
since, like every other Malfoy, he would most certainly not get a job after
Hogwarts and just live with the money he inherited, he really couldn’t see why
all these papers were necessary – it wasn’t as if he was planning on using the
money to open up any kind of enterprise.
But they had spent most of the morning at Gringotts, and Scorpius had lost
count of the number of documents he had been shown and the quantity of
signatures he had to put on them. And it was only after three hours, and after
talking to four Goblins that attended them in an oval office, that they were
finally free to go, the money hidden inside their cloaks.
“You already have your appointment, don’t you, Scorpius?” asked his father
coldly as they walked out of the bank and into the chilly December morning.
All in all, he had been extremely complaisant about the whole business, his
only request had been that his mother was not to know about it. Scorpius
wondered idly if there was something that his father wanted in exchange for
granting him his permission to go back to see a prostitute. Maybe his little
lie, about Nott threatening to do something unspecified to them in case they
didn’t pay, had worked better than Scorpius had anticipated. Or maybe his
father wanted to go to Nott & Goyle himself, and didn’t want Scorpius to tell
Mother.
But Scorpius hoped fervently that it was the former possibility and not the
latter, because that very thought made him seethe. And the notion that he might
ask for Scarlet made him sick to his stomach.
Scorpius had spent every single night awake in his bed, thinking about her.
Thinking about all those hours she was busy with other clients. Thinking about
all those disgusting men who wanted to use her for their own enjoyment.
Surely, nobody was as big a fool as he himself had been. Surely everybody else
had the guts to fuck her until they came. Until they covered her in the milky
strings of their come.
He closed his eyes and suddenly he could see her. Her beautiful face, scrunched
up in pain, her body writhing under that of some disgusting old man; her
delicate little hands grasping the covers of the bed;and the faceless wizard
kissing and licking and whispering depravities to her.
“Scorpius?” asked his father, quirking an eyebrow.
Scorpius’ eyes snapped open as he looked at him. “I’m sorry, I was distracted,”
he replied softly.
“You said you already have your appointment, don’t you?” he repeated dryly. “I
mean, you don’t have to confirm it, or anything? Or maybe let them know that
you have the money.”
Scorpius nodded, gladly noticing that his father was worried about the payment.
“I will have to send the money,” he told him. “And my new appointment is this
Sunday evening, at ten.”
His father nodded curtly at him and seemed about to ask him something else,
when he stopped walking and stared at something in front of them with his eyes
narrowed to two slits.
Scorpius followed his gaze. He wasn’t looking at something, he was looking at
someone. Albus Severus Potter, more precisely. Scorpius couldn’t help groaning
as he saw him. Potter’s father had been the Auror who had all the Wizarding
whorehouses closed years before, he felt as if his fellow Prefect would know
perfectly well what he was doing there and why he needed the money that he had
under his cloak. Even though he couldn’t see it. Scorpius felt as if Potter
would surely be able to pierce through his skull, see his thoughts, and know
everything about Scarlet.
“Isn’t that Harry Potter’s son?” asked his father quietly, his eyes still on
the young man who seemed to be waiting for someone outside Madam Malkin’s.
“Yes, Father,” replied Scorpius nervously as they kept walking. They would soon
walk past him and Scorpius tried to look everywhere but at the other student,
attempting to go unnoticed.
It didn’t work.
“Malfoy,” Potter greeted him casually, nodding lazily in his direction.
Scorpius turned towards him and nodded back. “Potter,” he said trying to sound
calm, “buying a new uniform?”
Potter shook his head. “Waiting for my mother,” he replied.
Scorpius nodded. “See you at school,” he said curtly.
“Don’t forget we have to patrol the train together on the ride back,” Potter
reminded him.
Scorpius rolled his eyes and turned to tell him that he remembered perfectly
well thank you very much, he didn’t need him to remind him, when he gasped and
almost stumbled over his feet.
Scarlet was there.
He shook his head forcefully, rubbing his eyes almost angrily before looking
again.
No, she was not Scarlet.
Next to Potter there was a woman, and she was talking to him and showing him a
new dress. She must have been in her forties, just like his father, and she was
beautiful. Long, red hair, brown eyes, fair skin covered in freckles and—
Scorpius turned away. No, it had been just a trick of his mind. He was
obsessing over Scarlet, of course he saw her everywhere there was someone who
looked a bit like her.
Or a lot like her in this case.
But it was a trick.
Just a trick.
A trick of his obsessed mind.
***
“We are glad to see you back, Sir,” said Charles with a knowing smile. “Again,
you are slightly early, but you can wait for her in the room we’ll assign you
like last time.”
Scorpius nodded, without being able to reply. He felt his mouth dry, his heart
was beating furiously in his chest, and his fingers and toes had gone numb. And
he was certain that that was not how one should have felt when going on a paid
appointment with a prostitute. That was something that he should have felt when
he had a date with some girl that he liked, not someone who was paid to fuck
him. Or paid to talk to him, in his case.
But how could he remind himself that someone who looked so innocent and
beautiful like Scarlet was not a normal girl? That she was a prostitute. That
she… she didn’t go on dates, that she…
Merlin! What had he got himself into? Maybe he should ask for his money back
and cancel the appointment.
He should. And then he should forget about her. Forever.
But he could still hear her voice echoing in his mind as she said that she
would have been punished if he sent her back. And he didn’t want that. And he
had that book for her under his cloak, his fingers were gripping it like life
depended on it.
“Mr Malfoy?”
He blinked as he looked at Charles. Next to him a tall, blonde girl with green
eyes and lips as red as rubies was looking at him curiously. He hadn’t even
heard her enter the room.
“Room ten, tonight, Sir,” he said, giving him a card.
He nodded as he took the card with the number of the room from the wizard, then
the girl started to walk towards a door that swung open and Scorpius knew that
he had to follow her through it and into the dark corridor.
Luckily, this girl seemed much quieter than the other one. He didn’t want to
hear anything about Scarlet that came from the mouth of those harlots. When
they reached room ten, she pushed the door open for him and said, “Enjoy her,”
almost sweetly before closing the door at his back.
The room was a perfect copy of the other one, except for the fact that this one
was all covered in green and silver.
Very Slytherin, very fitting.
He quickly took off his cloak and laid it down on an armchair before going to
sit on the bed. He placed The Tales of Beedle the Bardon the velvety blanket
near him and sat down, fidgeting impatiently.
He felt his head light. He couldn’t believe that he was going to see her again.
Only one hour, though, and then she would have had to bolt out of the door at
the insisting sound of that damn bell.
Only one hour… and the other time two hours had gone in a flash.
For a moment he wondered if he were doing the right thing, if he would just
suffer more, for seeing her tonight. After he saw her once more, and all her
beauty and grace and fragility were once again imprinted in his mind with even
more force. Because he had suffered. He had suffered in those nights while he
was forced away from her.
And Scarlet? Had she suffered for him? Would she suffer even more? He felt a
surge of pride and smugness at the way she had pleaded for him to come back to
her. At the way she had looked at him. For the first time ever, a girl was
looking at him because he was himself, not because he was the heir of an
immense fortune and descended of an ancient family of pure-blood wizards.
He gnawed on his bottom lip as he hoped that she hadn’t looked at him like that
because she was paid to do so. Did she look at all the clients like that? Was
she just acting with him? He would slap the daylights out of her if he came to
know that she feigned her interest in him, and then he would fuck her and get
his money worth out of her.
Or maybe not. Maybe he would just smile at her and tell her that everything was
just fine, and that it was not her fault, and that he thought that she was
beautiful and—
He raised his head when there was a light knock on the door and his heart
skipped a beat. Was it ten already? Was it really her? Of course it was her,
who else could it be? It was her and he was just losing precious time.
“Come in,” he said, his voice throaty.
The door opened and Scorpius held his breath.
And there she was, walking quickly and silently inside and closing the door at
her back so delicately that he almost didn’t hear it at all.
Then she turned and looked at him and to Scorpius’ surprise something happened
to her face.
Her dejected expression changed almost instantaneously. Her eyes, which had
looked so sad and miserable the moment before she had realised that it was him
sitting there, were now shining and her face brightened up as if she had just
been given the most beautiful present ever.
He tried to smile too, but he could only gasp in surprise when she sat at his
feet and hugged his leg with her white arms, kissing his knee and brushing her
cheeks against the coarse material of his trousers. Her face had changed again
and Scorpius was crestfallen to see that she was crying now. 
“I thought you would never come back,” she sobbed, “I thought you hated me. I
almost didn’t want to go to work the other day but Taffy said that I had to
because if you came and you didn’t find me you would have been mad at me.” She
sniffled and Scorpius looked at her without being able to move, as she kept
kissing his leg and crying all over him. “I’m sorry I doubted you. You are my
handsome knight, I should have known you’d come back for me.” She kissed his
thigh and pressed herself against his leg, her soft breasts pushing against his
calf.
Scorpius felt electricity go through every nerve of his body as the beautiful
girl hugged his leg. He finally let out the breath he didn’t know he was
holding, and stretched a hand towards her head without touching her.
What was she saying? He was her handsome knight? She knew he would come back
for her? She thought that he hated her? He felt a wave of pity for her. Pity
and then desire and affection and love…
“Sc-Scarlet,” he said softly, withdrawing his hand, afraid to feel too much if
he touched her shiny hair with his bare palm.
She raised her tear-stained face and beamed at him, making him swallow almost
noisily.
“Sit down,” he said softly, “please…” And even though she was already sitting
on the floor, she seemed to understand what he meant. She let his leg go and
went to sit in the same exact spot as the first time, legs crossed under her,
fingers quickly brushing away the tears as she kept smiling at him.
Merlin! How was he supposed to tell her that this was going to be the last time
that he could see her? How could he tell her that he couldn’t afford her? How
could he break her heart? And his own…
But maybe he didn’t have to tell her. Maybe they could talk for all the time
and then the bell would have covered her last words to him and he wouldn’t have
felt too bad when he didn’t come back. Maybe…
But time was flying again and he hadn’t even talked to her properly yet.
“I… I brought you something,” he said, picking up the book from the bed and
stretching his hand towards her.
She stared at the book with surprise and something like apprehension painted on
her face before her eyes rose on him. Her lips were slightly parted and she was
breathing quickly in astonishment as if she had never received a present in all
her life and didn’t know what to do with it.
“It’s for you,” he said, stretching his arm a bit more. “Take it.”
She raised an arm and closed her long, white fingers around it. “For me?” she
asked softly as he let it go and she placed it in her lap. “Is it… is it…”
“A present,” he finished. “It’s The Tales of Beedle the Bard, the one I was
talking to you about last time. Do you remember?”
She looked at him and nodded forcefully. “I remember everything, Scorpius,” she
whispered, causing him to bite his bottom lip at the way she said his name.
She lowered her eyes on the book and brushed her fingers on the blue cover
almost reverentially, as if the volume was sacred. “Is it… a present?” she
asked again, her voice tiny. “For me?”
“Yes,” replied Scorpius, with an encouraging smile. “For you.”
He could hear, rather than see her big, heavy tears falling on the cover of the
tome and she seemed to be startled by them just as much as he was. She hastily
brushed away the liquid salt from her eyes and cleaned the cover with her hands
almost frantically, probably worried to ruin it.
“D-don’t you like it?” stuttered Scorpius insecurely.
She looked at him with apprehension. “I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly, “I love
it. Thank you, thank you so much.” She swallowed and repeated, “Thank you.”
“But?” he asked softly.
Her bottom lip seemed to quiver. “But I’ve never received a present before,”
she admitted, her cheeks almost flushing in embarrassment. “Only from Father,
only once.”
“What?” he asked in disbelief. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.
What… what do you get for your birthday?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“And Christmas?” he asked dryly.
“Nothing.”
He felt queasy. He had received so many presents throughout his life that when
he was younger he used to spend half of Christmas day opening them. And she had
never received anything? Never? Scorpius Malfoy was starting to seriously hate
Theodore Nott. He snorted inwardly, as if the fact that he would let someone so
precious like Scarlet work there was not reason enough to loathe him.
“I’m glad I was the first one to give you something,” he said softly.
She flushed at that. “Oh, Father gave me this,” she told him, raising her leg
to show him the ankle bracelet that she had secured there. Her dress rode up
her leg and caused Scorpius’ heartbeat to accelerate as he tried to focus on
the heavy ring of gold covered in runes and not her white knee.
“It’s very pretty,” he said stiffly.
She nodded, bringing down her leg. “He says it’ll protect me as well,” she
replied, “but it’s heavy and I can never take it off.” She lowered her eyes on
the book again and murmured, “But I like your present more…”
“You’ll read it, right?” he asked, with a soft smile upon his lips.
Her head jerked up to look at him, beaming, eyes shiny like two stars in the
candlelight. “Oh yes,” she replied feverishly, “I’ll read it all and then I’ll
read it all again and again! And then I’ll tell you about it!”
He felt his heart beating almost painfully at what her words implied.
“Because you’re coming back, aren’t you?” she asked hopefully. “You… you should
come back every night. Stay here all night… with me…” She lowered her eyes and
her beautiful neck moved as she swallowed. “You are nicer than the other men…
they are not like you… you are my handsome knight… and I’m like Viridina…” she
whispered. “You don’t want to hurt me like they do…”
Scorpius closed his eyes, her words, her tone of voice, her pain-stricken face,
everything in her made him ache. Everything in her made him want to come back
and… stay all night, every night. But she surely didn’t know how much she was
worth. She surely didn’t know what five hundred Galleons meant. If she did,
maybe she wouldn’t ask him that. Or maybe she knew and thought that he was rich
beyond imagination.
He opened his eyes again and saw that she was looking expectantly at him,
probably waiting for him to promise her that he would go back every night. He
had to change the subject. He had to make her forget about it, to make her
talk. “Scarlet,” he said softly, cracking a smile, “why don’t you tell me about
you?” He swallowed and added, “Like… I don’t know… What do you do all day?”
She lowered her eyes and for a moment she seemed crestfallen that she hadn’t
managed to wrest the promise to return there from him. But when she looked up
again, she was smiling at him. “I read,” she replied, “I read all day.” She
clutched the book he had given her to her chest now, as if it was the most
precious thing in the world.
“You read? That’s all?” he asked surprised.
She shook her head. “Then Taffy brings me lunch and then she bathes me,” she
continued, “and then I read a bit more before dinner…”
“Who’s Taffy?” She had mentioned her before, but he hadn’t asked her.
Scarlet smiled even more warmly at that. “She’s my only friend,” she replied
sweetly, “she’s my house-elf. She’s always taken care of me, ever since I can
remember.”
A house-elf-nanny-friend, the very notion made Scorpius wrinkle his nose.
House-elves were made to order around, not to be treated as friends.
Scorpius swallowed and tried to smile softly at her. “I’m your friend too,
now,” he whispered, before he could stop himself.
She beamed at him. “Oh, yes, yes!” she said with enthusiasm. “I’m sorry, you
are! You are my friend! Thank you!” 
“I… n-no problem,” he stuttered at her enthusiasm.
“Can I be your friend too?” she asked, her voice all shy now.
“Of course,” he replied quickly, “I’d be honoured if you accepted being my
friend.”
She beamed again and Scorpius thought that he couldn’t get enough of her
smiles.
“And you never go out for a walk or something?” he asked her gently.
Her eyes veiled with misery at his words. “Never,” she replied softly, “last
time I asked Father to go out he slapped me. I’ve never been outside, in all my
life.” She sighed. “The other girls can go out, and Father and Uncle Gregory go
out all the time, but I can’t. They say it’s dangerous for a silly little girl
like me.” A smile painted on her face. “Maybe I could ask Father if I can go
outside with you!” she exclaimed. “You would protect me, wouldn’t you?”
Scorpius’ eyes widened. He didn’t have a good feeling about that. Somehow he
could only imagine Nott punishing her really hard before writing to his father
to tell him to keep him away from his daughter. But Scorpius didn’t care what
his father might do to him, what he really wanted was for her not to be
punished. He couldn’t imagine Nott’s punishments to be anywhere near tame.
“No,” he said gently, “don’t ask him… maybe when you are of age…”
She nodded submissively. “Scorpius,” she called him, “what do you do all day?”
He started to tell her what he did all day long: sleeping late, talking to his
mother, going on strolls outside the Manor when the weather was nice and many
other things and she listened to him in rapture, nodding and swooning even at
the silliest things.
“And I read,” he added truthfully. Well, for now it was true at least. He had
spent the whole week reading about Viridina and that handsome knight of hers.
She was definitely a silly witch and he was sure that the book was not to be
taken too seriously, but it looked like Scarlet didn’t know that. He smiled at
her and told her, “I read the tale of Viridina…”
“Oh,” she sighed, beaming, “isn’t she fantastic? And the knight? Isn’t he just
as brave and handsome as you are?” She flushed as she said that, but kept
looking at him as if he really was a knight.
Scorpius looked away, his cheeks heating too. “Yeah,” he replied vaguely,
wanting more than anything to change the subject. “Anyway, next week I’ll be
back at Hogwarts, so I won’t have much time to read, except for my text books…”
She lowered her eyes, her hands squeezing the book against her chest. “You go
to Hogwarts,” she said softly, “is it… is it just as wonderful as the book
says?”
He smiled at her. “It’s ten times better,” he replied, “that book is boring.
Hogwarts is gigantic, and full of moving portraits and places where you can sit
and read and there’s a library that you would love, and outside there’s a lake
and people go there after their exams, when it’s nice and warm, and swim and…”
His voice trailed away as he looked at her. She had lowered her auburn
eyelashes, her face suddenly miserable as she stared at the floor.
“Scarlet?” he called her unsurely.
She blinked a couple of times and murmured, “I waited for my letter for
Hogwarts when I was eleven, just like the book said.” She bit her bottom lip.
“I don’t think owls go underground though, do they?” She sighed. “Maybe they
do, and I was not destined to go. That’s what Father said, he said that I was
not worthy to go there.”
Scorpius could feel the rage boiling inside of him at that admission. How could
Nott say something like that? To his own daughter? Did he have no heart? Or
maybe… was she a Squib? Did she have no magic? She didn’t look like she owned a
wand, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t do magic. He had to ask her that.
Maybe he could let her use his wand a little to see if she could do magic at
all.
He opened his mouth to ask her exactly that when the bell rang for the first
time.
Scarlet’s eyes darted above the bed, towards the sound, her already fair skin
seemed to become even paler. “There… there must be something wrong with the
bell,” she said, her voice shaky, “it’s too early, it’s barely been an hour…”
Scorpius swallowed noisily as he looked at her with misery. “I… I only had an
hour today,” he let her know, his voice quivering almost like hers.
She opened her mouth wide in surprise, her eyes huge. “Why?” she asked
crestfallen, as if she were asking why he had slapped her.
He looked at her, unsure of what to say to her. Because he didn’t have enough
money, because she was busy with other clients, because he couldn’t be there
with her. “I… I…” that was all he could stutter to her.
She went to him and knelt in front of his legs, grasping his thigh with a hand
while she clutched the book with the other. “Promise me you’ll come back,” she
said, her voice shaky, “please, please, Scorpius, promise me!”
Merlin! He couldn’t promise her that. He didn’t know if he could come back at
all. He didn’t have all that money, or better he did have all that money, but
his parents would never let him spend it on her. His father would never finance
him again. But that only meant that those were the last few minutes that he saw
her, and it broke his heart to see her like that, pleading him to come back
with her beseeching eyes and her quivering voice, looking like she could as
well die of a broken heart if he didn’t reassure her.
But he couldn’t lie to her.
He looked at Scarlet with pity and shame. Oh! How much he wanted to go back to
her! Every night even, like she had asked him to! “Scarlet,” he murmured, “I’d
love to come back to you, but…”
Her bottom lip quivered even more, and her eyes shone with tears as she waited
for him to finish his sentence.
He pressed his lips together and finally whispered, “I’ll try, I promise.”
She nodded meekly, big, shiny tears spilling over the corner of her eyes. He
felt his heart ache as he stretched a hand to brush away the tears, not wanting
his last image of her to be that of a crying girl. But the damn bell started to
ring again and she was terribly quick to jerk her head away and stand up. She
bolted for the door before he could even react and soon she was gone and so was
the bell.
Her flaming hair was the last thing he saw.
But Scorpius knew that it was her pain-stricken face that would haunt his
dreams.
***** Chapter VII *****
Chapter Notes
     Heads up for quite an intense scene at the end! And for "art"! Let me
     know just how bloody fantastic my artistic skills are!! (Restrain
     from commenting if you are a super artist on Deviantart and just want
     to make fun of me...)
                                     *** 
Astoria looked at Scorpius with a little frown between her eyebrows. She had
never seen him reading. Well, she had, she had just never seen him reading for
his own enjoyment, and so strenuously. As if her son had just discovered the
pleasure of a good book and a nice, warm fire crackling in the hearth. Ever
since Draco had paid for his two hours of cavorting with a prostitute in
Theodore Nott’s brothel, Scorpius had started reading as if his life depended
on it.
And even though the situation was absolutely despicable and she had been
seething ever since Draco had told her about his idea of a ‘perfect’ Christmas
present for their son, she couldn’t help finding that turn of events rather
comical. Did he have to lose his virginity to pick up the hobby of reading? How
were the two things even linked anyway?
But right at that moment, the last thing Astoria wanted to do was laugh. In
fact, she pushed the door of the library completely open and strode in there
with a letter from her parents in her hand and a severe expression over her
face.
“Scorpius,” she called him sternly.
He raised his eyes from the book and glanced at her. “Mother,” he acknowledged
her, before looking back down at the book.
“The Toad and the Pot of Gold?” she asked, glancing at the cover. “Aren’t you
reading too much lately?”
“You always complain that I don’t read enough,” he pointed out lazily.
She pressed her lips tightly together. He was right. “Scorpius,” she continued,
“you are going back to Hogwarts tomorrow.”
“Yes,” he replied, turning a page, “and yes, I’m going to miss you, Mother.”
She flared her nostrils. “If you are going back to Hogwarts tomorrow,” she
continued, “why would you ask your grandparents for money?”
His eyes snapped up to look at her. “How do you know?” he asked almost angrily.
She pushed the letter under his nose. “They just wrote to me,” she informed him
sternly, “asking why you needed such a sum of money. Five hundred Galleons,
Scorpius!”
He grabbed the letter from her and skimmed through it, probably looking for a
positive or negative answer to his request. They didn’t give any, though, they
just informed their daughter of what he had asked and wanted to know why he had
asked such a thing.
He snorted and gave the letter back to his mother when he noticed that they
didn’t give any explicit reply.
“I need an advance on my inheritance,” he said curtly.
“Why?” she asked, her tone suspicious.
He lowered his eyes and snapped the book closed. “I can’t tell you, Mother,” he
replied curtly. “It’s private.”
“I’m your mother, Scorpius,” she snapped heatedly. “And I want to know what you
need this money for.”
He stood up from the armchair where he was seated and shook his head. “You
wouldn’t understand,” he said with a hiss, walking past her.
“Scorpius, I’m not finished,” she thundered.
But he didn’t stop, and soon all she could hear were his steps up the stairs
and the door of his room slamming shut.
***
“Scorpius!” His father’s voice was the angriest hiss Scorpius had ever heard in
his life. “Your mother informed me.”
Scorpius darkened, he crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyes to
look into his father’s. “And?” he asked hotly, bravely staring back at him.
“I thought you agreed not to see her anymore,” he hissed.
“No,” Scorpius replied calmly, “I agreed not to ask you for any more money to
go and see her. I can ask someone else.”
“I told you not to take another appointment with her,” growled his father.
“I haven’t,” replied Scorpius nonchalantly. “Not yet,” he added with a sneer.
He felt rebellious and ready to answer back to anything his father would tell
him. Nothing and nobody would stand between himself and Scarlet. He had to see
her again. He wanted to hear her telling him about The Tale of the Three
Brothers. Did she like it? Didshe like his present?
“You are not to do it!” he snapped, slamming his fist on the table. “Don’t you
dare disobey me!”
Scorpius glared daggers at him. “I’m of age,” he snapped back, “I can do
whatever I want.”
“Not as long as you live under this roof,” hissed his father.
Scorpius’ lips quirked upwards. “Well, I’m lucky I will be leaving for Hogwarts
tomorrow, then, Father.”
There was a vein on his father’s forehead and for the first time in his life,
Scorpius saw it pulse dangerously as the man glowered at him. Had his father
been a real dragon, and did not only have the name of the creature, surely
smoke would have come out of his nostrils at that very moment. But he wasn’t,
and Scorpius couldn’t help thinking how unfair the old man was with him. He had
been the one to pay for his first two hours with Scarlet, as he told him
cheerfully to go and enjoy himself at the brothel. And now he was seething at
the prospect of Scorpius going back to see her. Would he have understood if he
told him that he didn’t go there to have sex with her? What would he have said
if Scorpius told him that he had never even touched her? Would he have laughed
at him? Or been angry at him? Probably both.
Suddenly, though, his father’s mouth twisted upwards in a disdainful sneer.
“You are not falling in love with a prostitute, are you, Scorpius?” he asked in
a hiss.
Scorpius felt his mouth go dry. He thought he was. He thought he was falling
hard in love with her. For real. He had never felt like that with anybody else
before. He dreamed of her, he closed his eyes and saw her, he thought about her
every moment of the day, he was burning with desire to touch her and kiss her
and tread his fingers through her hair. Naturally, nobody was to know about
that, especially not his father. “That’s preposterous,” he replied lightly,
looking away and feigning indignation.
“I’m glad to hear that,” replied his father icily, “because, not only would it
be a despicable and scandalous thing indeed,in the event that someone came to
know about it, but I might have also mentioned that she’s Nott’s favourite, am
I correct?” He pursed his lips and added, “She graces his bed every night, I
don’t think he would like to know that you are pining for her.”
Scorpius’ eyes widened as he sucked in his breath. What? He kept her
segregated, he made her work as a prostitute, he never gave her any presents,
he didn’t let her go to Hogwarts and… he slept with her? He felt a wave of
nausea rising in his stomach. She called him father, she said he was her
father. Had she lied to him? She hadn’t looked like she was lying.
But Nott didn’t look like a father to her, thought Scorpius.
“Father,” he murmured his voice throaty, “have you… have you ever seen her?”
His father glared at him furiously. “What are you implying, Scorpius? That I
amuse myself with those girls like you do?” he asked with scorn.
Scorpius’ cheeks flushed in anger, and he lowered his eyes at that. How dared
he? He had been the one to book his first appointment with her! “No,” he
seethed, “I’m implying that she said that Nott is her father and since you’ve
known him for years, maybe you’ve seen her at some dinner or some kind of
social event.”
Suddenly, silence descended in the study. His father didn’t reply for a long
moment and when Scorpius raised his eyes to look back up at him, he saw that he
looked slightly unsettled. “No, I’ve never seen her,” he finally replied in a
murmur, “and I wasn’t aware of Nott’s… inclinations. Evidently, my friend knows
how to keep a secret hidden from prying eyes and ears.”
Scorpius swallowed and stood up. Of course, that of Nott was a most hideous
secret that even amongst the old, slimy clients of his brothel would be at
least frowned upon. Scorpius was glad to see that his father looked genuinely
upset at the news that his school friend shared his bed with his own daughter.
He looked coldly at his father for some long moments, studying his dark
expression while he wasn’t looking at him. Finally, he said flatly, “Excuse me,
Father, I need to go get ready for tomorrow.”
His father looked back at him just as coldly, but Scorpius turned on his heels
and started to walk briskly towards the door.
As he opened the door and stepped into the corridor, his father’s voice reached
him in a hiss, “Even if you manage to get the money from your grandparents,
Scorpius, how do you plan to sneak out to a whorehouse during school?”
Scorpius didn’t reply, but he slammed the door at his back a bit more
forcefully than he had intended as he walked out of the study.
He didn’t know.
He just didn’t know.
***
“Malfoy. Malfoy!”
Scorpius blinked and groaned even before his eyes rose to look at Rose Weasley
standing on the door of his compartment.
“What?” he grunted. “I’m reading. Isn’t that what you always do? Don’t you
always say that when you’re reading we can’t disturb you?”
She crossed her arms on her chest and looked at him sternly. “Why aren’t you
patrolling with Albus?”
He took a deep breath and finally closed the book in his lap. “Because it’s not
our turn yet,” he explained slowly, “our turn is at eleven.”
“It’s eleven thirty.”
He blinked again. Surely he was fonder than he thought of this new hobby of
his, because time flew when he had a book in his hands. “Well,” he started
unsurely, “my point exactly, it’s not eleven.”
“Al said that you didn’t show up for patrol,” she said sternly.
“He’s lying.”
“I am not!” said a voice from within the compartment, causing Scorpius to start
slightly before he rolled his eyes in annoyance.
Potter took off his hood and his head appeared in mid-air. “Told you he would
have said that it’s all my fault.”
“Hey,” snapped Scorpius, “that’s against the school rules.”
“What is?” asked Potter lightly. “Telling on you when you don’t show up for
your Prefect duties?”
“No, having an Invisibility Cloak and using it at school,” said Scorpius
waspishly. “And I was busy.”
“Reading?” asked Potter with a snort. “Or maybe doing your last minute
homework?”
“Please,” he replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Finished that ages ago. You
should know that, Potter, since I do better than you in every subject.”
“In your dreams, maybe,” he replied snappishly.
“Yeah, I don’t dream about you.”
“Wow,” said Weasley, shaking her head. “Can you two just shut up?” she asked
cheerfully. “Okay, since you haven’t shown up for your patrol, and you are
going around under an Invisibility Cloak—”
“Which is not against the school rules, Rose,” snapped Potter, “Dad used it all
the time.”
She ignored him. “You are going to be paired up for two months for basically
everything.”
“What?” asked Scorpius outraged.
“No!” shouted Potter.
“If you don’t shut up now, I’m going to make it three months…” she said in an
almost sing-song voice.
“Rose, but why?” protested Potter.
“Three months it is,” she said sweetly. “And it’s because you have to learn how
to get along and collaborate.”
“Why?” asked Potter exasperatedly. “We haven’t done that in seven years, you
don’t think we can start now…”
“Four months?” she asked with the shadow of a sneer on her lips.
“Bloody hell, Potter, stop talking,” groaned Scorpius, and luckily he did shut
up.
“See?” she said satisfied. “You’re already collaborating.”
Scorpius glared at her. “Get out of my compartment,” he hissed before adding in
a low growl, “please, Weasley…”
Weasley glared at him. “You are patrolling again at two,” she said, “don’t even
think about forgetting about it.” She turned on her heels and stormed out.
To Scorpius’ surprise, Potter closed the door and collapsed on one of the seats
in front of him, before taking off the Invisibility Cloak.
“What are you doing?” asked Scorpius suspiciously.
“What does it look like?” asked Potter back.
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “It looks like you are getting comfortable…”
“Well, aren’t you just too smart for your own good?” he asked mockingly.
Scorpius took a deep breath. “Why are you doing that?”
Potter looked at him as if he were out of his mind. “You missed a patrol and
Rose paired us up for three months—”
“It would have been two if you had kept your mouth shut…”
“If you miss another patrol, she will definitely give us detention,” he said,
opening his school bag and drawing out a book.
Scorpius snorted. “She can’t do that,” he said nervously.
“Try her,” he replied calmly, opening the volume. A picture flew to the floor
and Scorpius followed it with his eyes. It was the picture of a little girl,
long red hair and a wide grin.
Scorpius felt his heartbeat increase. She looked familiar, she looked a lot
like someone he knew. Someone he was obsessing about.
He tried to reach for it to have a better a look, but Potter was quicker and
grabbed the photo from the floor.
Scorpius looked up at him and saw that Potter was putting the picture back in
the book. His face suddenly dark.
“Your sister?” he asked softly, without being able to keep his mouth shut.
“Yes,” he replied curtly. “I don’t want to talk about her.” And with that he
raised the book in front of his eyes and the compartment was suddenly filled
with an uneasy silence.
***
“I knew you would be happy,” said Goyle with a chuckle.
Nott glanced at his business partner from over the Prophet that Goyle had just
brought him. “They never learn, do they?” he asked with a smirk. “Auror Edward
Lupin encounters another dead end with the unicorn trade in Wales,” he read out
loud from the front page. “They are never going to stop looking for her
either.”
Goyle shook his thick head, barking a laughter. “Never,” he agreed. “We really
had the best idea when we locked her in here.”
“We?” asked Nott, placing the Prophet on the desk of his office. “I’m sorry,
but if I remember correctly,I was the one who had to do all the work, while you
were shaking like a leaf and telling me to take her back to her parents or to
kill her quickly.”
Goyle had the decency to flush. “Bloody sodding hell, Nott,” he grunted, “you
had the best idea… happy?” He brought his hand down to his groin and scratched
his balls. “By the way,” he added nonchalantly, “where is she? I haven’t seen
her in two weeks. Shouldn’t she come to say hello to her old Uncle Greg?”
Nott quirked an eyebrow. “Missing her?” he asked snidely.
“You bet,” he replied hotly. “I keep dreaming about her, and I wake up as hard
as a rock.”
Nott snorted at that. “Duty before pleasure,” he said sternly, “first tell me
the business with the Healer.”
Goyle nodded reluctantly. “All good,” he said. “I tried to reason with him, as
a good mediator should do.” He smirked at what he probably thought was a fun
joke or a witty thing to say. It wasn’t, and Nott just rolled his eyes. “And
when he kept saying that he would inform the authorities about Scarlet’s true
identity, I killed him, like a good business partner should do.”
Nott looked at him, unconvinced. “And?” he asked haughtily.
“And he’s dead, end of tale,” he replied curtly, “call Scarlet now, I’m
thinking about her and this is becoming very uncomfortable.” He pointed to his
groin where his semi-hard erection was already showing.
Nott ignored him. “And what did you do with the body?” he asked impatiently.
Now it was Goyle’s time to roll his beady eyes. “I stabbed him and threw him in
the Thames,” he mocked. “What do you think? I used the Killing Curse, and left
him in Knockturn Alley. They’ll think he was in some kind of shady business.”
He chuckled at that. “Which he was really…” he added as an afterthought.
“Did anybody see you?” asked Nott, not so sure about his partner’s skills to
kill a man and do it secretly.
“No, Nott,” he replied impatiently. “I was good. If you don’t believe me, wait
and see that the Aurors will never manage to link us to his death.”
Nott quirked an eyebrow. “And now? Did you find a new Healer for the girls?” He
narrowed his eyes. “Maybe someone who is not going to be smart enough to notice
that my dear girl,and Potter’s daughter are the same person?”
“I’m working on it,” he replied gruffly, “we don’t want to end up with another
case like that one, do we?”
Nott considered his words for a moment. The girls were very demanding, and
health coverage was in their contract after all. He certainly didn’t want a
mutiny in his brothel. And he slept with Scarlet every night, he wanted himself
to be protected as well. “Okay,” he finally conceded, “but hurry. You know the
girls, they get feisty if they don’t have what they want.”
Goyle snorted. “Give them Scarlet for a day to play with,” he laughed, “they
hate her with a passion.” He brought his hand between his legs and smirked. “I
don’t, though, so if you could call her now, you would make me really happy…”
Nott rolled his eyes again, but snapped his fingers and Taffy appeared at once
near the door, eyes huge. “Go fetch my daughter,” he barked at the creature,
who squealed in surprise as she saw Goyle sitting there with a smirk on his
face. “Now, elf!” he snapped when she didn’t move.
Taffy quivered and bowed, her long nose brushing the floor, then she
disappeared again. She was back in the room with Scarlet’s wrist secured
between in her fingers in a matter of seconds.
“Scarlet,” said Nott with a smirk as he surveyed her. She was clutching a book
to her chest, her beautiful eyes were wide and getting wider as she stared at
Goyle, her lips parted in surprise at having been transported right in her
father’s office in the middle of the afternoon.
“Uncle Gregory is here to see you,” he said, gesturing towards Goyle, “he has
been away on business for two weeks. Go, say hello, dear.”
She swallowed as Goyle stretched out a hand for her to take and she took an
unsure step towards him, her dress fluctuating around her ankles. But then she
stopped and lowered her eyes and swallowed again, more noisily, as if she was
crestfallen to have been called there.
“Go, I said,” snapped Nott, a hand reaching out for the book in her hands. “And
you’re always reading,” he barked, tearing the book from her, “I wonder how
long before you go blind.”
She turned to look at the book that he had slapped on the desk, her face
painting with much more fear than Nott deemed necessary for the fate of the
stupid volume. He always gave them back to her anyway, so he really didn’t know
why she was fretting.
“Scarlet,” he grunted warningly.
Scarlet swallowed a third time, but Nott suspected that her mouth was already
dry. She glanced at the book once more, before walking towards the armchair
where Goyle was sitting. She grabbed his hand and he pulled her to him, making
her fall in his lap. She gasped softly, and placed her hands on his broad chest
to steady herself. He wormed a hand in her hair and brought her face down to
his.
“Hmm,” he whispered, “you always smell so good, Scarlet.” He stretched his fat
neck until he finally reached her and then he was kissing her. Nott looked
amusedly at the couple as Goyle pushed his tongue into her mouth, and Scarlet
tried to kiss him back as well as she could. The sloppy and lewd sounds filled
the office, until Goyle finally let her go and she had to gasp for air.
He pushed his face into her hair and grabbed her hand, placing it on his
member. “I was thinking about you, Scarlet,” he grunted in her ear, “and I’m
all hard now. You have to take care of that, baby girl.”
Her bottom lip quivered and she nodded softly, her eyes staring in front of her
as if she was ashamed to look at Goyle’s face.
“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing her wetly on her cheek. “Good girl,” he
repeated as he opened his legs and pushed her down, until she was kneeling in
front of him.
She almost seemed ready to cry as she unbuttoned Goyle’s trousers and fished
out his cock. She wrapped her white hand at the base and closed her eyes as she
opened her lips to engulf the head with her mouth.
Goyle scrunched his eyes up and moaned another, “Good girl,” making Nott smirk
as he leant back against the desk and bumped into the book he had taken from
her. He turned distractedly towards it and narrowed his eyes.
The Tales of Beedle the Bard.
He didn’t know they had it amongst their books. In fact, he was quite sure they
didn’t have it. Something someone said right after the end of the Second
Wizarding War about Potter being a descendant of the Peverells, and the
Peverells being the actual brothers in the tale of the Hallows. He didn’t want
Scarlet to even indirectly know about her inheritance and thus that book had
never been amongst the ones that he let her read.
He picked up the volume and turned to look at Scarlet. Goyle had his hands on
her head, his fingers in her hair now, and he was pushing her against him,
slurping and choking sounds were the only things that left her mouth now.
“Scarlet,” he said sternly, “where did you get this book?”
She tried to pull back, but Goyle grasped her hair almost spasmodically and
kept her in place as he pushed into her mouth viciously.
Nott rolled his eyes. “Goyle,” he said warningly.
Goyle let out a whimper as he let her go. “Merlin, Nott,” he grunted, a hand on
his saliva-covered erection, “it’s just a sodding book, leave the poor girl
alone.”
Scarlet fell back on her heels, spit falling from her lips to her chin, and
face flushed. She coughed and wiped her mouth dramatically, before she raised
her eyes on Nott.
“I asked you something, Scarlet,” he said impatiently.
She coughed a bit more and finally choked out, “I… I… it was…”
“It was what?” thundered Nott. “A present?”
She lowered her eyes and nodded, but before she could add anything else,
Goyle’s hand was again in her hair and he was pushing his erection once more
past her lips as he started to fuck her face, uncaring of the tears that were
pooling in the corners of her eyes and of her hands which were trying to find
leverage on his thighs or against his stomach.
“A present from whom, I wonder,” said Nott as he opened the book.
And there on the first page he had it. The answer.
Because in a beautiful writing there was a dedication.
                   [The Tales of Beedle the Bard Dedication]
So, Malfoy had brought her a present. Interesting.
“Has the Malfoy boy come back after his Christmas present?” Nott asked Goyle,
his eyes two slits.
Goyle grunted as he kept Scarlet’s head pushed against his pelvis. Her face was
all flushed now, tears were streaming down her cheeks as she choked on the
erection shoved deep in her throat.
“I… don’t… know,” growled Goyle. He gave a sharp thrust with his hips and
howled almost like an animal, before starting a litany of, “Swallow, swallow,
swallow…”
Scarlet managed to gasp around his erection, her back arching with a spasm as
she swallowed Goyle’s come and pushed against his lower abdomen to get free
from his fingers. But his hand was like a vice around her head and he kept
himself buried in her mouth for a long moment, until she started to squirm for
air and her eyelids started to droop.
When he let her go she fell back on the floor, curling herself up in a ball as
she spluttered Goyle’s seed and her spit on the carpet. She brought her hands
to her throat and let out a loud sob that had Goyle laughing and Nott rolling
his eyes at the scene.
“Now,” said Nott in a business-like fashion, “has Scorpius Malfoy come back
after his first two-hour-appointment, Scarlet?”
She massaged her throat and brushed the tears away from her face as she looked
up at him. Her abused lips were quivering in fear. Pathetic. She nodded softly,
and finally pushed her hands on the floor to sit up.
“And did he give you this book?” he asked her, closing the volume and waving it
in front of her.
“Yes, Father,” she rasped out, her voice a low, hoarse whisper. She looked at
him as if she wanted to silently beg him to give her the book back.
Goyle chuckled and tucked himself back in. “Isn’t that sweet?” he mocked.
Nott glared at him, before returning his gaze upon Scarlet. “You are not
allowed to receive presents from anybody but me,” he said in an angry hiss. “Do
you understand me?”
She swallowed the last remnants of Goyle’s seed in her mouth, probably without
even noticing, and lowered her eyes, fresh tears falling down her cheeks again.
He grabbed the tome and turned towards the fireplace. “I hope you are happy
with yourself, Scarlet,” he snapped, “making me destroy a perfectly fine book.”
He heard her gasp and sob a loud “No,” as he threw the volume into fire.
To his surprise, Scarlet was kneeling next to the hearth in a flash, stupidly
trying to salvage the volume from the flames.
He had to grab her hair and pull her back to keep her beautiful skin from
getting burned.
“Stupid girl,” he snapped, “do you want to burn yourself?”
But she was shaking and sobbing, and her eyes were fixed on the burning book
and its fluttering pages that were slowly consumed by the flames.
“Stupid girl,” he repeated almost affectionately, pulling her to him and gazing
upon her face as she kept her eyes low. “Taffy,” he called, tilting Scarlet’s
head back to look at her dirty chin and her swollen lips.
The house-elf squealed in a corner.
“Take her to the bathroom,” he said, still looking at Scarlet, “scrub her
clean, and calm down this silly girl.”
“Yes Master,” said the house-elf, bowing.
“Stop your tears, Scarlet,” he ordered her, “it was just a book. You can go and
read that tale of that witch that you like so much…”
She nodded submissively and looked back to the fire, and he finally let her go
and let Taffy disappear with her.
Goyle clapped his hands in a mocking fashion. “Great parenting skills,” he
laughed, “she will cry throughout the evening and I’m sure every single client
is going to send her back.”
Nott snorted. “You don’t understand, my dear thick friend, do you?” he hissed.
“The house-elves said that Scarlet didn’t need cleaning after two hours with
Draco’s son, and the bed was not unmade.”
Goyle waved his hand. “He might have cleaned her himself as a courtesy, two
hours are a long time and he is so well-behaved,” he pointed out with a sneer,
“and the bed is the last place where I like to have sex.”
Nott shook his head. Something was going on with that boy, and he would have to
keep an eye on him and Scarlet before they did something stupid.
And if they were anything like their fathers, they would surely do something
stupid.
***** Chapter VIII *****
                                     *** 
“Harry is losing hope, Hermione, I can see it in his eyes when he comes home.
He never talks about new leads anymore, he keeps trying to talk me into
organising a memorial, I’m sure he thinks she’s dead…” Ginny shook with sobs
and tightened her arms around Hermione’s shoulders, her tear-stained face
pressed in her sister-in-law’s jumper and soaked it with her liquid salt.
Hermione opened her mouth to tell her something, but she couldn’t find anything
to say. She glanced at Molly, who was looking at her daughter with wide, teary
eyes and quivering lips from the armchair closer to the fireplace, and patted
Ginny’s back soothingly.
“I know she’s not dead,” sniffled Ginny, “I know it. She’s my daughter, a
mother can feel these things.” She raised her head from Hermione’s chest to
look at her own mother. “Am I right, Mum?” she asked with heart-wrenching
desperation in her voice. “Didn’t you know when Fred was dead? Didn’t you feel
it?”
Molly brought her plump fingers to her eyes to dry them hastily, surely she
wanted to pretend to look stronger than what she actually felt, as she stared
at her daughter crying. She had to look strong, for Ginny’s sake. “Ginny, that
was different,” she said, trying hard to smile comfortingly without really
managing, “there was a war going on…”
“But you knew, didn’t you?” she asked vehemently.
Hermione cupped her cheek and sighed. “Ginny, darling,” she said softly, “look
at me, dear.” She smiled at her when her sister-in-law turned to look at her.
“We all hope that she’s alive, you know, our little Lily.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, “no, I know it. I don’t just hope. I’m sure
she’s alive.” She brought a hand to her heart and pressed her palm against her
chest. “I feel it in here.”
Hermione looked at her and knew that Ginny could see all the misery and pity in
her eyes. She was sure that Ginny couldn’t possibly feel that. She was sure
that the redheaded woman’s hope let her believe things that she couldn’t
possibly know for certain. Hermione hoped that Lily was still alive as well,
naturally, but after six years she had started to fear that her little niece
was probably pushing daisies somewhere in England. And if she weren’t,
Hermione’s heart clenched at the thought of what had happened to her.
Because, really… What had happened to her? Who had taken her? Why had they
taken her? She shuddered at the very thought of what she might have gone
through, if naturally, they hadn’t killed her the very same day of her
kidnapping. Killed her and hid the body so well the Aurors would never find it
and would keep looking for her in vain for years. A cruel trick that would be.
A cruel trick indeed.
But if Hermione had been at Ginny’s place and Rose had been the one to be
kidnapped, or Hugo, she would be crying over Ginny’s shoulder at that very
moment, probably lamenting the same thing, saying that she knew her child was
alive and that she could feel it deep inside of her.
“When they find her…” whispered Ginny, snapping her out of her thoughts, “when
they find her, I’m going to give her everything, that she wanted, that I never
did. I’m going to buy her the new Firebolt, the one she kept asking for her
birthday and I told her that she had to wait because… because she was too young
to own a broomstick… I… I’m going to let her have ice-cream for breakfast like
she always wanted to do… and chocolate chip cookies at midnight. If she wants
to have chips for lunch and dinner every single day of her life she will have
them… If she still wants to sleep in our bed between Harry and me… I’ll let her
sleep there… every night. If… if she…” But then Ginny’s voice broke and she
started to cry in earnest and Hermione couldn’t do anything but pull Ginny’s
head against her chest and caress her long, red hair, hoping, without hope, to
soothe her friend.
***
Scorpius’ days were slow and boring at Hogwarts. His nights were restless and
long. All he could think about was Scarlet. He had written to his grandparents
again, making up lies about a business he wanted to pursue as soon as he was
out of school, needing the money and not wanting to ask his father about it.
They hadn’t replied yet. And he waited and waited every day growing more and
more impatient. The very thought that night after night Scarlet had to endure a
client after the other and that he couldn’t go and be with her, not even for
one hour, to make her happy and maybe bring her more books, made him ache.
His father had asked him if he were falling in love with her, and he had
scoffed at that, but now he couldn't help thinking that he probably was. He had
never felt like that with anybody at all. He kept thinking that. He had just
never felt like that with anybody. He had had crushes, and girls had crushed on
him too, and he had had his fair share of girlfriends, but… it had never been
quite like that. He had never felt like that.
He hadn’t even almost touched her at all. She had always touched his clothed
legs, imploringly, lovingly, hugging him like a little slave would do to her
master. He had never touched her face, never hugged her body, never glided his
fingers in her shiny, soft hair. He had never even kissed her. And yet, he felt
like he couldn’t breathe when he thought about her. He felt like he was in pain
when he was not there with her.
Which was ridiculous, really, because he had only seen her twice. Three hours
in total. One hundred and eighty minutes. One thousand Galleons. And this was
not a romance novel. He was not the handsome knight who saved the damsel in
distress and fell in love with her with a single glance.
But Scarlet thought that he was. She really did think that he was her handsome
knight. That he was there for her. And only her.
And Merlin! He wanted to believe that too. He wanted to believe that he was
there for her too, just for her. He wanted to believe that he would have taken
her from that place, brought her to his Manor and lived happily ever after with
her. Just like Viridina. She deserved that. She deserved to be taken away from
her father and the life he had imposed on her.
But he was just too spineless for that. He knew it. Scarlet shouldn’t rely on
him, because he was just a self-centred git and a fool, a spoilt young man
brought up with the idea that nothing but himself mattered.
And he knew that in the end he would just hurt her.
And despite that, all he wanted to do was to see her again.
***
“Rose, I didn’t know you would come to Tomes and Scrolls too! What a wonderful
surprise,” said Emeric Zabini brightly, his dark eyes shining with happiness.
Rose looked at him and sighed. “Of course you knew, Emeric,” she replied
calmly, “I wrote it to you in the diary this morning.” She placed her hands on
her hips and added, “That’s why I told you to meet me later.” Couldn’t one
book-loving young woman have a bit of quiet time in the only bookshop in
Hogsmeade?
“Really?” he asked, with a dumb smile that made Rose roll her eyes only half-
heartedly.
“Well, since you’re here,” she said slowly, “can you get me that book up there?
The one about advanced charms. I can’t reach it and—oh, thank you.”
He grinned at her, once again, as he handed her the volume and Rose smiled back
distractedly, opening the tome to have a look at it. This was exactly what she
needed to prepare for the Auror training. Yes, of course she knew that there
were still five months to go before her N.E.W.T.’s and then another three
before the training itself, but she was already at a perfectly fine point with
her studies, having finished revising most subjects during the Christmas
holidays, and was ready to tackle the most advanced spells that she would need
to know as an Auror.
“So,” said Emeric, leaning against a shelf. “You want to go to the Three
Broomsticks after you’ve finished here? Maybe get a Butterbeer? I’ll buy…”
She closed the book and sighed. “I told you, we need to go and prepare
tomorrow’s Prefect meeting later,” she reminded him, “we still need to decide
who should—”
“Weasley.”
Rose stopped dead as Scorpius Malfoy, jumping quite out of nowhere apparently,
came to stand in front of her. His face was serious as he stared at her from
above his Slytherin’s scarf.
“Malfoy,” she greeted him unsurely. What did he want from her anyway? He
usually was impossible to find when she needed him to do some extra Prefect
work.
“Scorpius,” said Emeric impatiently, “can’t you come back later? We are talking
here…”
Malfoy turned to glare at him. “I have to ask something to Weasley, can you
wait five minutes before you commence your obscene flirting?”
Emeric flushed, he stuttered something that sounded like, “Not flirting,”
before he pretended to be interested in something on the higher shelves and
walked away.
Malfoy turned towards Rose again, his face grave. “Weasley,” he said, “you like
to read, right?”
She nodded hesitantly. Yes, and it was not a secret. Everybody knew she liked
to read. Everybody teased her about it, Malfoy had teased her and called her
names that had to do with her hobby ever since they were in their first year.
“And you’re a girl…”
She raised an eyebrow in annoyance. “Well spotted indeed,” she replied dryly,
“Al is right when he says that you are too intelligent for your own good.”
Scorpius took a deep breath, as if he wanted to try to keep himself calm and
definitely not start a quarrel. “Listen,” he said in a business-like voice, “I
need a favour.”
“And you’re asking me?” she asked suspiciously.
He nodded stiffly. “I need to ask you something,” he said, raising two books in
front of her eyes. “I want to buy a present for someone who likes to read.”
Rose grinned. “A lady friend?” she giggled for a few seconds, before her girly
expression was replaced by a frown as she remembered something. He had had tons
of girlfriends and he had never asked her for any advice at all. Actually, they
had never talked almost at all in seven years, only to call each other names
and, now that she was Head Girl and he was a Prefect, to boss him around. Why
would he ask for her… what did he want again?
“Yes,” he replied, his face darkening, “a lady friend. She likes to read
romance novels. Which… which one?”
Rose looked down at the two books in his hands and read the titles. The Further
Adventures of Viridina the Witch and Her Beloved Knight or The Damsel in the
Tower and the Wizard Who Loved Her. She wrinkled her nose at both titles.
“Those are really sappy, Malfoy…” she said truthfully. “And the first one looks
like it’s part of a series.”
Malfoy nodded. “She has the first one,” he murmured, looking at it, “she loves
it.”
Rose pursed her lips. “Then go with that one,” she suggested, before grinning
again. “So, who’s the lucky witch?”
Malfoy put the second book down on a shelf and swallowed. “Nobody that you
know,” he said flatly.
“If she likes to read, I’ve probably seen her in the library,” pointed out
Rose, crossing her arms.
“She doesn’t go at Hogwarts,” he replied grimly.
“An older witch,” she giggled. “Are you meeting her at Madam Puddifoot’s
later?”
To her surprise he darkened even more, before replying a curt, “No,” and
walking away without even thanking her for her help.
Rose stared at him as he clutched the book in his hands and went to pay for it.
He looked weird. Not that Malfoy was not usually weird, but more often than not
when he had a girlfriend he was the first one to let everybody know, Rose knew
that pretty well because he had had many girlfriends amongst the Prefects.
Except for her, luckily. Not that he was not good-looking or studious or
intelligent, in fact he was all these things, but the two of them were just
incompatible, she had noticed that much.
He didn’t like her bossy attitude, and she didn’t like his arrogance. And the
few times they had been paired up for anything at all, they had almost killed
each other in the process.
But apart from that, he was all right.
***
Ron crossed his arms as Harry signed and closed the file on the Welsh unicorn
trade. He stared at his best-friend, brother-in-law, and father of his missing
niece with pity, as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily.
Another dead end.
Another hope that was snuffed out like a candle flame in the wind.
The band of unicorn hunters were using the only woman of their gang, an ugly
hag in her forties who was still a virgin, to attract the animals before they
killed them.
Ron would have to talk to Teddy. He should verify his sources before he started
to give false hopes to Harry and Ginny.
He walked towards Harry’s desk and sat down in front of him. “Hey,” he said
softly.
Harry brought down his hands, his green eyes shining with tears as he put his
glasses back on. “Hey,” he replied, his voice calm.
“Teddy did a good job,” murmured Ron, “arresting a whole gang of unicorn
hunters.”
Harry nodded. “Yes,” he replied feebly, his eyes on the file. He was silent for
a long moment and Ron looked at him as he took a deep breath and shook his head
imperceptibly as if to send away an unwanted thought. Finally, when the silence
started to become deafening, he whispered, “I really thought… for a moment
there, I really thought…”
“I know,” replied Ron softly.
“I’m tired, Ron,” murmured Harry, “Ginny is right, I’m losing hope.”
Ron swallowed and looked at him with concern. He could only imagine what he and
Ginny went through every time something like that happened. “Harry…”
He shook his head. “If it weren’t for Ginny, I might have stopped looking for
her already,” he whispered. “I… I feel like… The Prophet says that I’m
obsessed…”
“She’s your daughter, Harry,” pointed out Ron, “and since when is the Prophet a
reliable source of information?”
Harry nodded, his eyes shining again. “When she was born, she was so small,” he
murmured, his voice weary, “do you remember her, Ron?”
Ron nodded. He remembered her perfectly well, born only a few days after Hugo,
a little bundle of screaming joy. She was a little fireball and Luna had come
back, all the way from Australia, just to be her godmother. The little daughter
that both Harry and Ginny had always wanted.
“I remember that I said,” Harry continued, his voice becoming a bit choked, “I
remember that I said that I was her daddy, and that I was going to protect
her…”
Ron had to close his eyes, because the sight of Harry crying made his heart
break; even though the Head Auror shed his tears silently and in a very
composed way. He just couldn’t bear to look at him like that anymore.
It was only after a few, interminable minutes that Harry sniffled loudly and
blew his nose. “I think I should go home,” he murmured finally, his voice calm
once again.
Ron opened his eyes again just in time to see him brushing away tears from his
face.
“Yeah,” he replied, “just go. Don’t worry here, I’ll take care of the file.”
“Thank you, Ron,” he whispered, standing up and retrieving his coat. “I’m… I’m
sorry, you know…”
“Don’t be,” he replied softly.
Harry looked at him and nodded. He walked slowly towards the door and stopped
short of it. “I’ll be in for the morning shift tomorrow,” he said softly.
“I know,” replied Ron.
Harry nodded again and walked out.
Ron listened until his steps died out in the corridor, before picking up the
file and bringing it to the archive.
***
Scorpius couldn’t breathe.
His hands were shaking and he was probably looking like a complete idiot at
that very moment.
His grandparents had believed his lies. They even sent him their best wishes
for a prosperous venture in the business world.
And a Gringotts cheque.
Five hundred Galleons.
He was glad he hadn’t opened the letter that morning at the Slytherin table. If
Ursula or Alice or some other girl saw him with a cheque for all that money,
they would have never left him alone.
He was far better off on his bed, with the thick curtains drawn around him
while all his fellow seventh year Slytherins were still at dinner.
He couldn’t eat.
Not now when he had the money to see her again.
One more time. One more hour.
Now all he needed was to understand how to do that.
He was back at Hogwarts after all. He was not allowed to go on late night trips
into London. Especially not to a whorehouse. Not that he would have said that
to Professor McGonagall, but she surely wouldn’t let him go out for a night
even if he told her that he was going to have tea at the Potters’.
Which was ridiculous, really, because he was of age. He should have been able
to go to Hogsmeade and Disapparate without so much as a “Goodnight” to the
Headmistress.
But he couldn’t.
Or could he?
Maybe he could lie to get out of there. Tell them that he was going home and
instead he was going to Nott & Goyle, just for a night. Maybe his father was
sick. Or his mother. And he needed to attend her. Would they believe him? Or
maybe he could disguise himself and go to Hogsmeade. He would be mistaken for a
traveller, surely not a student. Or maybe…
Merlin! Why did everything have to be that difficult? Why couldn’t he have
Potter’s Invisibility Cloak to sneak out without being disturbed?
Scorpius sighed.
He would find a way to get to her. He didn’t know how to do that yet; all he
knew was that he was going to do anything in his power to see her again.
He needed to see her again.
***** Chapter IX *****
                                     *** 
“Miss Scarlet has to stop crying!” squealed Taffy frantically, “Miss Scarlet is
all cried out and doesn’t eat. She is going to be sick and die!”
Scarlet didn’t listen to her. She had been crying for days now. Ever since her
father had thrown the book into the fire. And even though it had been more than
a week since that horrible day, she still didn’t seem able to stop her tears,
like she was ordered to do more and more harshly every day.
But how could she stop crying? The book had been Scorpius’ present to her. The
only present she had ever received.
But when she had told that to her father, he had laughed at her and told her
that the ankle bracelet that he had gifted her was ten times more valuable than
that stupid book.
Scarlet didn’t know the value of things. She had never seen those Galleons that
Father and Uncle Gregory kept talking about, but she knew that she wanted the
book far more than she wanted any jewel her father could ever give her.
Scarlet wrapped her arms around her naked legs and leant her head on her knees.
Her body shook with a new wave of sobs and she could feel some warm tears
tracing down her calves.
The steam coming from the bathtubs, where the other girls were taking their
baths, and her salty tears fogged her vision, so she just pushed her nose into
the bend of her elbow and cried a bit louder.
“Oh Merlin,” said Lulu waspishly from one of the tubs, “shut up, Scarlet, will
you?” She placed a wet sponge on her forehead and sighed. “So Daddy burned your
present. Get over it, you stupid girl. You probably didn’t deserve a present
anyway.”
The other girls sneered, but Scarlet just started to sob again, this time
trying to choke her whimpers and sniffles against her arm.
She could feel Taffy shudder behind her, as a small indignant huff left her
brownish lips, but the elf didn’t retort anything. She just tried to untie her
knots a bit more quickly, to hopefully get her out of there sooner.
“You are lucky Daddy didn’t decide to burn all your books,” said Freya lightly,
“maybe we should suggest it to Mister Nott… We could entertain you during the
day, Scarlet.”
The girls sniggered their assent and Scarlet felt her heart being seized with
fear at the very thought. All day with them… she didn’t even want to think what
kind of tortures they would invent for her.
“Ugly whores will not stuck their ugly noses where they don’t belong!” snapped
Taffy suddenly, brandishing a brush in her hand.
The girls looked at her half outraged and half surprised.
“You little, impertinent monster,” snarled a plump girl.
“I’m going to drown you in the bathtub,” snapped someone else from a bench.
Scarlet squirmed on the stool and turned to wrap her pale arms around Taffy’s
little body, pulling her against herself as some of the girls stood up from
stools and tubs, and looked at them with hatred.
“No…” whimpered Scarlet feebly, closing her eyes.
Taffy patted her back lightly and when Scarlet opened her eyes again they were
sitting in her bedroom.
“Miss Scarlet doesn’t worry for Taffy,” said the house-elf, covering her
quivering body with a nightgown as she helped her up. “Taffy knows the girls
are stupid.” She made her sit on a chair and started to dry her hair with a
towel first and then with magic. “But Miss Scarlet needs to stop crying,” she
said sternly. “Or Master will punish her again.”
She looked at the reflection of the elf in the mirror as she brushed her hair
until it shone. Sometimes she braided it with some little flowers that she got
Merlin knew where, but not when she had to work. The clients liked to grab her
locks and make her arch her back as they pushed into her, and thus her father
didn’t want her to pull it up when it was already evening.
Then the nightgown was tied properly around her body by the nimble, brown
fingers of the elf and Taffy pushed a bowl of soup in front of her.
“I’m not hungry,” she said weakly.
“But Taffy made Miss Scarlet’s favourite,” squealed the elf. She grabbed the
bowl in her hands and dunked in a spoon, gathering up some soup and making it
fall down back. “With little pieces of bacon and potatoes.”
Scarlet looked at it and then lowered her eyes. “I don’t want to eat,” she
whispered.
“But Miss Scarlet needs to eat,” said the elf coaxingly, “Miss Scarlet is going
to die if she doesn’t eat.”
“I don’t care,” she replied miserably.
The house-elf squealed. “But Taffy cares,” she said, “and Miss Scarlet doesn’t
want to make Taffy sad…”
Scarlet looked at the elf. No, she didn’t want to make her sad. Taffy was her
only friend. What would Taffy do if Scarlet let herself die? She wouldn’t have
anybody to look after… She stretched her hands towards the bowl and put it in
her lap, bringing a tentative spoonful of soup into her mouth under Taffy’s
beaming eyes.
The soup was good, but to Scarlet it almost didn’t have flavour. She swallowed
and smiled wetly at the elf, who patted her arm back happily.
But Scarlet just wanted to curl herself up in a ball and die. Her father had
burned Scorpius’ present, and Scorpius had never promised her he would come
back. He said he’d try, but days had slipped into weeks and she had never seen
him again.
She was sure she had been forgotten.
After all, Scorpius was surely a knight, but Scarlet was certainly not like
Viridina.
She was just a whore.
***
The card that Scorpius got in the post that morning said 31st of January at ten
in the evening. One hour. Just like the time before.
All he had to do now, was seriously start thinking about an excuse to get out
of school.
Or not really.
After all, he could really just slip out of the main gate before Filch closed
it in the evening, and go to Hogsmeade and wait at the Three Broomsticks. Would
Madam Rosmerta tell on him? No, he had already thought about it for days! He
had to wear a cloak and not show his face. He could have been anybody. And
then, he would wait until nine thirty to Apparate to London, and at ten…
His heart beat a bit faster as he thought about her. About Scarlet. He had
written her name in his Potions book the day before. He hadn’t even noticed at
first and when Mary Davidson had asked him who she was with a sneer on her
face, he had luckily been quick to reply that that was the colour the potion
had to turn in the end. And didn’t she hear? Slughorn had said that just a
minute before…
Mary was in tears when her potion turned green – the colour it really should
have been – and Professor Slughorn didn’t have a clue what was wrong with her
and started to panic when she couldn’t stop crying. All in all, it had been a
fun lesson.
Scorpius was just grateful that Nott hadn’t called her ‘Scarlett’. That would
have been much harder to come up with an excuse.
He wished he didn’t have to come up with any excuse at all, though. He wished
he could just let everybody know who she was. Let everybody know that the most
beautiful creature ever to walk on earth looked at him as if he were a god. As
if he were her own private deity. That she cried when he told her that he
wouldn’t be able to see her, that she kissed his legs in adoration when she saw
him.
It was wrong, he knew that, and he was glad he felt the nausea raising in his
stomach when he thought at the way she looked at him. Now at least. At first he
felt smug and thrilled to be adored like that, but now all he wanted was for
her to be happy, to go outside and walk with him and give him one of her
beautiful smiles like she did every night in his dreams.
Because he dreamed of her every night. She was always there. She usually talked
to him and told him tales that she had read. And once she had even kissed him,
and her lips were the softest and most delicious thing he had ever touched. And
when he woke up he felt all flustered and dismayed that it had been just a
dream.
He couldn’t wait to see her. He clutched the card in his hand. He couldn’t
wait.
***
Albus pocketed Lily’s picture and glanced at his watch again. It was almost
nine and Scorpius Malfoy was nowhere to be found. Somehow, the Gryffindor had a
feeling that Rose wouldn’t be happy with either of them if they skipped a
patrol, even when the fault was blatantly Scorpius Malfoy’s. 
To be honest, he had been quite an all right patrol partner up to that point.
Silent, but punctual, always brooding and not really up for talking, not even
for their usual bantering that had gone on for the past seven years. But it was
not as if Albus didn’t welcome the change, at least they could wander for the
castle while both of them minded their own businesses. And that was that.
The clock chimed nine.
Not that night, though. Apparently, it had been too good to be real. Albus was
certain that Malfoy was not going to show up and the raven-haired boy was going
to kick the Slytherin for that.
***
It had honestly been all a bit of a blur.
The gate, the Three Broomsticks, the dark alley in Hogsmeade, the thought that
he was skipping patrol… and then London and the fake offices of Nott & Goyle
ltd., the employees and the smiling witch who opened a passage into the wall
just for him. Then the corridor, the curtain and Charles, almost smirking at
him as he called a girl to lead him to room fifteen, again.
He was early, again, Charles had said, and Scorpius couldn’t have cared less.
The girl was talkative that night, she was dark skinned and muscular, and she
kept saying something about what a whining spoilt child Scarlet was, and
Scorpius had to tune out her voice before he hexed her for good.
He didn’t even look at her as he walked inside and slammed the door shut. He
hurried to take off his coat and sat on the bed, waiting expectantly for
Scarlet to arrive, almost tasting the moment she would be there.
And that moment tasted so deliciously.
Scorpius could feel his insides flutter and disappear as he sat there. Merlin,
but that was not normal! He knew that. That was not healthy. He should have not
felt that way for her. He was not supposed to feel anything but lust towards
her, and instead he just wanted to see her and be close to her and talk to her.
He tapped his foot on the floor impatiently as the time for her to arrive
neared. He looked at the book he had in his lap. How she would like it! The
sequel to the tale of Viridina, and Scarlet’s second present. She deserved to
be covered in presents, and for a moment Scorpius wished he could give her all
the gifts that she hadn’t been given in her life. For each birthday and each
Christmas that she hadn’t celebrated properly. He sighed as he imagined Scarlet
at the Manor. His own Christmases would have been much happier with her by his
side!
And then there it was, a knocking. A soft, shy knocking on the door. It took
him far too long to find his voice and reply a faint, “Come in,” but when he
did the door opened and closed so quickly, that he convinced himself that she
must have recognised his voice through the wood. Surely she did, because she
was kneeling next to him in less than a second, her hands grasping his legs as
her little body shook with sobs and whimpers.
She buried her head in his trousers and soaked them with her warm tears leaving
him petrified on the spot. He looked down at her, her pale fingers were
grasping the material as she tried to push herself against him with all her
forces.
“Scarlet,” he breathed, “what’s wrong?”
She sobbed louder and started to murmur a string of words, “I’m sorry Scorpius
it’s all my fault I’m sorry I should have never done that I’m sorry please
forgive me…”
“What?” he asked, dazed. What was she talking about? “What happened? Scarlet,
look at me, please. What happened?”
She raised her eyes to look up at him and he saw how wasted she looked that
night. As if she were paler, thinner, wearier than ever before. A month had
passed since he had seen her the last time, and she had never looked quite as
worn out as she did now.
“What happened?” he repeated softly.
She leant her cheek against his knee and looked up at him. “Father burned the
book that you gave me,” she sobbed, “he says I’m not allowed to receive
presents from anybody but himself.”
Scorpius’ jaw set. He couldn’t have cared less about that stupid book. He could
buy himself thousands of copies of that book. But that very volume had been
Scarlet’s only present. His present to her. She had been so happy when he gave
it to her, and it had been so heart-breaking to hear that she had never
received anything before that moment. Only that stupid ankle bracelet.
And now? He had bought her another book, and he had felt so thrilled about the
thought of giving it to her. Another story of Viridina, she would have been so
much more excited than she had been for the tales of the Bard. And now, the
very thought of telling her that he had another volume, but that he surely
couldn’t have given it to her – unless he wanted Nott to probably unleash all
his rage on her – made him mad.
“Did… did he punish you?” he asked in a whisper.
She nodded softly. “Yes,” she replied, “because I couldn’t stop crying.” She
brushed away the tears from her cheeks. “But no client sent me back, and he
said that he was pleased,” she added in a whisper, looking at him as if she
hoped that he would be pleased with her as well.
Scorpius closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists. He wanted to hex
Nott. He just wanted to hex his balls off. And if only Scarlet could do magic,
she would surely hex him herself, wouldn’t she?
Then suddenly he remembered something, the last time he was there, he had been
about to ask her just that, if she could do magic, right before the bell
interrupted them.
“Scarlet,” he said, opening his eyes and looking down at her. Her eyes were
still shiny, but she wasn’t crying anymore. She was still pressing her tiny
body against his legs though. “Can you do magic?”
She shook her head, miserably. “Father says that I can’t,” she replied softly.
“You can’t because you don’t have magic, or because you are not allowed?” he
asked quietly.
She lowered her eyes. “He just says that I can’t.”
“Have you ever done magic?” he asked again. “Accidentally, maybe?”
She looked at him apprehensively, before glancing briefly at the door at her
back. When she spoke her voice was a whisper. “I think I did,” she murmured,
“once.”
“How do you know?” he asked. “What happened?”
She lowered her eyes again. “Lulu was hurting me,” she replied in a whisper,
“she was using her nails, and Taffy says that she’s not allowed to use her
nails on me. And I just wanted her to stop and…” Her voice trailed away as she
pressed herself a bit closer to him.
He knew that Lulu was a despicable little slut, he remembered her words from
the first night that he had been there. All lies about Scarlet. “And?” he asked
softly.
“And suddenly all the towels flew towards her and she couldn’t see anything and
fell back into a tub… and the girls said that I wanted to drown her, but I
didn’t, I swear, I didn’t even know what I did…”
“And then what happened?” asked Scorpius.
She closed her eyes as if she was remembering. “The girls told Father and
Father kept me in the playroom for three days,” she said softly, “and three
nights.”
Hex was too tame a word for what he wanted to do to Nott. He swallowed, afraid
to ask, but needing to know. “What’s the playroom?” he whispered.
She looked up at him, and for some reason that Scorpius couldn’t quite grasp,
she seemed almost ashamed. “It’s where Father takes us when we misbehave,” she
told him, her voice quivering. “And he punishes us.”
He nodded, not wanting to hear any details about those punishments. “I…
Scarlet, I want to try something… stand up,” he said, taking out his wand from
his pocket.
She stood and looked at him with apprehension as he stood up as well, wand in
hand. He turned it and offered the handle to her. “Take it,” he said gently.
“B-but Father doesn’t want me to—”
“Your father is not here,” said Scorpius firmly, “take it.”
She looked at him before lowering her eyes to the wand. When she finally
stretched her hand and closed her fingers around it, Scorpius could almost feel
her digits shake around the wooden stick. Nothing happened though; but that was
not her wand, it was his, he didn’t expect anything to happen.
“Good,” he said, walking around her and coming to stand behind her. “Now, the
first spell I was ever taught was the Levitation Charm.” He stepped closer to
her, until his nose was almost pushed into her hair. She smelled so good, like
flowers, and she was warm and as he stretched his arm in front of her to grab
her wrist he felt his heartbeat increase at how soft and smooth her skin was
under his fingers. He had to focus though, because he wanted to see if she
really had magic or if she were a Squib and maybe one of the girls had tried to
frame her with the towel trick.
“Now,” he said, trying to concentrate and ignore how close to her he was
standing, “you have to move your wrist like this.” He guided her hand in a
tortuous gesture for a couple of times, and then he made her repeat the motion
until he was satisfied. He felt very much like Professor Flitwick at that
moment. “Perfect,” he finally said, lowering her arm, but still keeping his
fingers around her, “now say Wingardium Leviosa.”
She swallowed and murmured the incantation so softly he barely heard her.
“Louder, Scarlet,” he said gently.
“Wingardium Leviosa,” she repeated a bit more loudly.
He made her repeat the spell until she could say a nice and long ‘gar’ as he
had been taught, and by that time, his thumb was rubbing circles on her wrist
and he wasn’t even noticing.
“Okay,” he said, swallowing, “now, point the wand to that pillow.” He raised
her arm again and made her point it to one of the pillows on the bed. He leant
his chin against her temple, and it was only then that he noticed that she was
shaking. She was quivering like a leaf at the thought of disobeying her father.
He turned his face to kiss her head as his other hand went to her arm, rubbing
it soothingly. “Shh,” he whispered, “it’s okay, Scarlet, it’s okay. We are only
doing a bit of magic.”
She nodded faintly at him, and Scorpius was sure that she had moved her head a
bit towards his. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and wondered if she
could hear how excited he was to be that close to her and to touch her.
“Now point, wave and say the spell,” he whispered gently, his voice a bit
throaty.
She nodded again and he let go of her wrist.
“Now,” he told her.
She swallowed before she waved the wand and said, “Wingardium Leviosa.” The
pillow didn’t move. It didn’t even flutter a little. She lowered her head and
her arm at the same time.
“What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing her arm again and pointing it back to
the pillow. “No, no, no, that’s normal. It took me hours before I could make a
feather levitate. We’ll just keep trying.”
“I don’t think I can do it,” she whispered dejectedly. “I’m not like you or
Father. I’m just a silly little girl…”
“No, Scarlet,” he said forcefully, “I don’t want to hear anything like that
from you.” He gave her another kiss on her silky hair, fighting the urge to hug
her. “Viridina would not give up,” he reminded her gently.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if she was trying to let his words
give her courage. Then she finally pressed her lips together, nodded again a
bit more resolutely, and opened her eyes again. Finally, she waved her wrist,
saying the incantation another time. Once again, nothing happened, but this
time he didn’t have to coax her into trying again, she repeated the movement
and the charm a third time and then another.
To Scorpius’ utter surprise, at her fourth attempt, the pillow levitated from
the bed for a few seconds, it waved slightly in the air, and fell down again on
the covers with a faint ‘thud’.
Scarlet gasped in surprise. “I did it!” she exclaimed, excitedly. “I did it!”
She did it. She did it at her fourth attempt. Scorpius was speechless and when
she turned to hug him, her nose pushing against his neck and her hair tickling
his jaw, he was even more dumbfound.
“You did it,” he murmured, dazed, unable to move his arms to hug her back. “You
did it.” Only Weasley had been that good to manage to levitate a feather in
their first lesson, and only after many attempts. Of course, Weasley and
himself had been eleven at that time, and Scarlet was fifteen, but still… for
someone who had never done any magic on purpose nor held a wand in her hand,
she had managed incredibly quickly.
She was definitely a witch. Definitely not a Squib. He gritted his teeth. She
deserved to go to Hogwarts. Why wasn’t she at Hogwarts?
Something was terribly wrong there.
Let alone the fact that she was underage and forced to work as a prostitute.
Let alone the fact that she was segregated in a brothel without being able to
go out.
Let alone the fact that her own father slept with her.
She was a witch who hadn’t received her Hogwarts Acceptance Letter. What had
happened? Did the Ministry know that she existed at all? Did McGonagall know?
Or maybe she had received her letter, but her father had thrown it away? But
why didn’t the Ministry investigate?
Scorpius’ eyes widened in comprehension.
But surely the Ministry didn’t know about her. If it did, the Aurors would have
already closed that place and taken her away from Nott.
How stupid could he be? How thick? Honestly!
She was… she was… what was she? A captive? A hostage to her father’s madness?
She was a victim, of that he was sure. He had to take her out there. He had to
free her, to bring her to a place where Nott would never find her.
But how? How? He couldn’t go and tell the Ministry. They would send him to
Azkaban the moment he said the word ‘whorehouse’, and if Nott did as much as
sense that Aurors were coming to take her away, he surely would do something
drastic.
But alone… no, Scorpius couldn’t do it alone. She was certainly under strict
surveillance. There was no way that he could ever take her through the round
room without Charles crying havoc, and Nott having her punished and him
reported to his own father.
He looked down at her and saw that she was staring up at him, her lips
stretched in a small smile, her arms tight around his torso. Scorpius grabbed
her arms gently and untangled her from him, he took his wand from her and
pushed it back in his pocket. “Scarlet,” he said, looking seriously into her
eyes, “you can’t tell your father about this, okay?”
She nodded, lips parted in surprise. “Yes,” she replied quietly.
He nodded back. “Good,” he said, “this is going to be our secret.”
She nodded again, looking at him almost conspiratorially, like a child who was
told to keep mummy’s birthday party secret. He couldn’t help smiling down at
her and she smiled back right away. Her tears from before all forgotten.
“You…” he whispered, “you are so beautiful…”
She beamed at him. “Like Viridina?” she asked hopefully.
“Ten times more beautiful,” he murmured, pulling some of her long, silky hair
behind her ear.
She flushed gently and her ruby lips moved a bit. He couldn’t help looking at
them, they seemed so soft and delicious to kiss, just like in his dream. He
just wanted to do it. He wanted to envelope her in his arms and never let her
go. He tilted his head a little to bring it down to hers, and her eyelids
fluttered as she stretched her neck to reach him.
Then the first bell rang.
And Scarlet moved her head back at once and let out a soft sob. “You only had
one hour,” she whined.
He closed his eyes for a second, hating that bell with all his heart. He looked
down at her and grabbed her shoulders. “Listen to me,” he said quickly, the
other bell would ring soon, “I promise you, I’ll come back, okay? I don’t know
when, but I’ll come back, do you understand me, Scarlet?”
She nodded, her pretty lips parted in surprise. “Yes,” she murmured, “you are
my handsome knight, you’ll come back for me…”
“Yes, I'll come back for you.” Merlin! He wanted to kiss her, he was burning
with desire to brush his lips against hers and feel that pleasant electricity
going through every cell of his being. But, as if the bell had known his
intentions, that infernal device started to ring again.
Scarlet threw her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly one last time,
before bolting for the door.
She was gone before he could even say goodbye to her.
***** Chapter X *****
Chapter Notes
     The second to last scene features explicit non-con. Read at your own
     discretion.
                                     *** 
“Is this the room?” asked Nott, following a dark-skinned woman through the
door.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied, crossing her slender arms across her chest. “Scarlet’s
ten o’clock, a blond, young and handsome bloke.”
Nott walked into the middle of the room and surveyed the place attentively.
“Handsome? Do you think he’s handsome, Ebony?” he questioned slowly.
She giggled. “He was,” she replied, “I wished he was my client.”
Nott looked at the bed, the armchairs, the table, and finally the bathroom,
which was visible through the slightly ajar door. Some people, Goyle was right,
didn’t like to use a mattress. Some men liked to sit on the armchairs and have
the girls ride them, or they wanted to pick them up at the waist and push them
against the wall, or they liked to have a shower and take them from behind.
But they always left some tell-tale detail of their coupling – a dented pillow
on a chair, some sticky bodily fluids on the wall, a wet floor in the bathroom.
Not in that room, though.
Nothing was out of place there. Not the armchairs, not the bed, not the
bathroom. There was only a pillow that had been carelessly placed in the middle
of the bed, as if it had been thrown there for Merlin knew what reason.
“You wish he was your client,” murmured Nott thoughtfully, “but he is
Scarlet’s, he always asks for her…” He turned to look at Ebony and raised his
chin. “Are you sure the elves haven’t already cleaned in here?”
“Positive,” she replied softly, “when you said that you wanted to see the room
nobody touched anything, Sir.”
He nodded. “What do you think, Ebony?” he asked, looking at the room once
again.
“I think he didn’t fuck her,” she replied with a little chuckle.
Nott darkened. “Why would someone pay five hundred Galleons, for an hour with
her, if he doesn’t want to fuck her do you think?”
She laughed more loudly. “He is in love, obviously.” She slid her arm around
his waist and pressed herself against him. “In love with a whore, isn’t that
tragic and hilarious at the same time?”
Nott turned towards her and entangled his fingers in her thick, curly hair,
tilting her head back. “Hilarious,” he agreed in a murmur. “I want to be
informed next time Scorpius Malfoy books an hour with Scarlet.”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir,” she said, wincing slightly as his hand tightened around
her locks.
“Good,” he replied, letting her go. “Go now.”
Ebony left silently, her bare feet making almost no sound on the carpets of the
room. Nott took a deep breath as he looked at the room one last time and
snapped his fingers. Two house-elves appeared with a loud ‘crack’ in front of
him.
“Clean this room,” he ordered darkly, “even if there’s nothing to do.”
The house-elves squealed and started to work, and Nott turned on his heels and
stalked away, his head swarming with dark thoughts of Draco’s son and Potter’s
daughter.
***
Teddy rubbed his temples as he stared at the little dot that was pulsing
insistently on the map that James had handed him.
“You went there?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
James nodded. “I thought I had to check,” he said, “it was a Trace after all.”
Teddy took a deep breath. “I know,” he replied, “we’ve caught that Trace for
years, but we never found anybody.” He looked at the dot again. “It’s strong
tonight, though,” he added thoughtfully.
“As if the child was doing magic,” agreed James with a little nod.
Teddy shook his head. “But nobody with magic lives in that part of the city,”
he said, “we’ve checked extensively.”
“This part of the city,” pointed out James, “it’s between the Ministry and
Diagon Alley.”
Teddy nodded. “I think that’s the trick, James,” he replied calmly, “too much
magic. We get signals of things that don’t exist.”
James nodded softly back in agreement, but his shoulders slumped forward a
little bit, disappointed, almost ashamed, to have followed a trail to something
that didn’t exist.
“Go home,” said Teddy in a fatherly fashion, “you have the day shift this
week.”
James nodded again and yawned. “You are right,” he replied, “good night,
Teddy.”
“Night, James.”
And as his Auror trainee walked out of his office, Teddy Lupin stared at the
pulsing, little dot on the map. Wondering, like he did every time, if it really
was just a trick.
***
“Mr Malfoy!” said Professor McGonagall, her old, wrinkled face a mask of
horror. “You spent the night unsupervised at the Three Broomsticks! Without
parental consent! While at school!”
Scorpius lowered his eyes and darkened. “Yes,” he replied through gritted
teeth. He glanced at Weasley, Potter and Emeric Zabini, and narrowed his eyes.
Surely Potter had told Weasley that he hadn’t showed up for patrol, and Weasley
had gone straight to the Headmistress to tell on him. Zabini was there just
because he had a crush on Weasley, and would do anything she told him to do.
Professor McGonagall brought her hand to her chest. “What in Merlin’s name were
you thinking?” she asked, her voice high-pitched with horror.
“I wasn’t.”
She nodded. “That’s… that’s a good answer, Mr Malfoy,” she said sternly. “Why
on earth would you spend the night there? Don’t you have a bed in the seventh
year Slytherin dormitory?”
“Yes, Professor,” he replied sullenly.
Professor McGonagall collapsed heavily on her chair. “I will write to your
parents,” she said sternly, “and you will serve detention for two months
starting withtonight.” She darkened and added, “And consider yourself lucky if
I don’t take away your Prefect privileges.”
He gritted his teeth and nodded curtly. He would have preferred if she did,
really; because he had promised Scarlet he would go back to her and he didn’t
need Potter to report him another time.
“From tonight, you are required to go to the Trophy Room and clean each and
every single article in there, without the aid of magic,” she continued
sternly.
Scorpius’ head snapped up. “But that’s what first years do!” he protested. He
had hoped for something different, maybe the Forbidden Forest with the
caretaker; where he could have disappeared through the woods and to Hogsmeade
once more, as soon as he found the money to get to Scarlet again.
“And that’s exactly what you’ll do,” snapped Professor McGonagall, “since you
seem to have forgotten rules that even first years should know!”
Scorpius tried very hard not to roll his eyes, but he didn’t seem to manage
fully well, because when he looked up at the Headmistress she was fuming.
“You may go,” she hissed in the end. “All of you,” she added towards the other
three while Scorpius stood up. “And Mr Malfoy,” she called after him as he was
already starting to walk away, “at your next transgression of the school rules,
I will take away your Prefect privileges and summon your parents.”
He gave her his back and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Headmistress,” he muttered,
before walking down the stairs, followed closely by the three other students.
“Malfoy,” Weasley called him as soon as the Headmistress’ office door closed at
their backs. “Where the heck did you go?”
“None of your business, Weasley,” he growled, without turning.
“Did you go to see your girlfriend?” she asked, and he was surprised not to
hear a sneer in her voice. She sounded almost worried. Well, of course she was
worried, she was afraid that he would be made to resign from his Prefect
position. And that meant that she would have had to teach someone new
everything about the most efficient way to patrol the school, or the exact
phrase to recite when taking away points, thus losing a lot of precious time
that she might have used for studying.
He turned to face her and saw that Potter and Zabini were looking intently at
him. “I said it’s none of your business.”
“You are a Prefect, and I’m the Head Girl,” she replied haughtily, “of course
it’s my business when you break the rules.” Then, suddenly, her expression
seemed to morph: from the stern-looking Head Girl she turned into a regular,
almost giggling girl. “Did you give her the book?” she asked with a soft smile.
“Did she like it?”
Scorpius looked away. “I didn’t give it to her,” he replied darkly, before
turning again.
“Oh,” he could hear Weasley say as he walked away, could it be that she sounded
almost disappointed? Those girls were a true mystery to Scorpius.
All of them but Scarlet. He wanted to believe that he knew her, even though he
was fully aware that he didn’t know anything at all about her.
“Malfoy,” called Potter. Merlin, had his punishment no end?
“What?” he snapped, not even turning.
“Remember that we have patrol at nine tonight,” he said.
And with that, Scorpius heard the three of them walking away.
***
Nott looked at Scarlet from the armchair in their bedroom. On the bed, her
naked, sleeping body was flushed and covered in his come.
He was sure that she had noticed that he was furious. She hadn’t said a word,
naturally, but she had looked at him fearfully after he had finished with her.
And he was glad she had noticed, because he was really enraged.
He hadn’t been angry with her at the beginning of the night, really.
Au contraire, he was usually nice to that silly, little girl after a hard night
of work, and even that night he had made her lie down on her back and pushed
into her gently, kissing her tears away, whispering sweet words into her ear
and suckling on her breasts until they were coated with his saliva.
Almost making love to her, rather than having the crude, animalistic sex that
he himself favoured.
But then… then he had woken up in the middle of the night with her face close
to his, her eyelids fluttering and her pretty lips moaning a name.
Not his name.
The Malfoy boy’s name.
Scorpius.
It was just a whisper, really, and she wasn’t even saying it with wanton or
lust. But in the middle of the night it had resounded loud and clear like a
cry. She was calling his name, she was dreaming about him.
And Nott had felt his blood boil in his veins.
He hadn’t even woken her up. He had rolled her onto her stomach and pushed into
her arse, without so much as a muttered spell to lube her tight hole. She had
woken with a startled cry of pain, her body convulsing as she fisted the covers
and sobbed that Father was hurting her, and to please stop.
He didn’t listen to her. But after he came in her arse the first time, he made
her raise on her hands and knees and took her again. She cried so loud, Nott
thought that he could almost hear the girls laughing outside their door.
He had licked away her tears and rolled her long hair around his fist, tugging
her head back to kiss her as he pounded into her. Her soft, creamy arse was a
delight against his lower abdomen and his free hand had sneaked under her body
to fondle her breasts, and pinch her nipples until she cried again and
collapsed on the bed in exhaustion.
When he had exited her and ordered her to stop crying she had pushed her head
into the pillow and fallen asleep in a matter of minutes, shattered. Now he was
probably going to wake her up soon, because her round arse with her tight hole
that still oozed his seed, and her white back splayed with those beautiful red
locks were quite an arousing sight, and he felt his member twitching once again
between his legs.
And he was angry with her, he needed to hear her scream and cry a bit more to
placate his fury.
According to the registries, she had only seen Scorpius Malfoy three times.
There had been clients that had wanted only her ever since she was nine. Not
yet a woman, not even a girl, only a child, really, and they had booked her
until some of them had gone skint. But he had never had to worry. She had never
come into his office clutching a present from these men in her hands, she had
never cried if said present was thrown into the fire, nor had she said their
names in her sleep.
Nott shook his head bitterly. And to think that he had just wanted to do
something nice for Draco. His old friend. Two hours with his precious Scarlet
at the price of one for Malfoy’s son. He would have rather preferred that Draco
himself had come to use her… but Draco was soft, and he had a conscience, and
surely he would have recognised Ginny Weasley’s features on the girl. And then…
His old friend would have either blackmailed him, or told on him straight away.
In both cases Nott would have ended up killing him, which was quite a hassle
really. Especially because his trusted killer was Goyle, and Nott somehow knew
that he would have surely had thousands of protestations in the event that he
ordered him to kill Malfoy.
But Draco’s son was no better than his father. He was as soft as Draco himself:
falling in love like that, with a prostitute! Now that Nott thought about it,
Scorpius was probably even softer than his own father. He wondered what would
have happened if he had given him a night with Lulu, or Freya, or Ebony, or any
other girl in his brothel. Would he have fallen for them too?
Probably not. Scarlet was a diamond amongst rocks. She was as bright as the
sun, and as beautiful as a flower. And she had those eyes… those innocent and
trusting eyes, as if she could see good in anybody; even in the girls when they
tried to drown her, or in her father when he punished her.
He smirked as he wondered what Potter would think if he saw her now. His
little, pure, innocent daughter… a first class prostitute.
And Scarlet was so submissive and docile, that Nott believed that he should ask
Potter for money for how well he had brought her up. Nott had done all the
work, really, because she was a spoilt little brat when he had kidnapped her.
But the Memory Charm, long nights of hard work, and some well-deserved
punishments, had put her in her place. And now she was a profusion of “Yes,
Father,” and “I’m sorry, Father,” and always ready to please him in every way
he wanted.
The only thing he couldn’t quite get rid of were her tears. She was prone to
shed them every time her emotions overwhelmed her senses. Fear. Delusion. Pain.
But after all, Nott didn’t mind them too much. Sometimes, he found them quite
alluring.
Nott looked at her as Scarlet stirred gently on the bed and murmured,
“Scorpius,” in her sleep, one more time.
He darkened as he brought his hand to his member.
His pupils dilated the moment he started to stroke himself to hardness. 
His lips twitched upwards at the thought of punishing her again and again,
until she screamed and cried for mercy.
***
“Are you tutoring Hugo?” asked Albus, plummeting on the couch behind his
cousins.
“Yes,” replied Rose evenly, “but only in Charms, he doesn’t need help with
anything else.” She unrolled a bit more of parchment and kept checking her
brother’s essay, while he tried to move his wrist in a range of motions he
would probably need for his O.W.L. exam in June.
“How on earth do you find the time to do that?” groaned Albus. “You have Head
Girl duties, your N.E.W.T.’s to study for, your ten thousand clubs where you’re
either chairman or bursar or whatever you—”
“Oh please,” she said brightly, “I only have the book club, S.P.E.W., the Charm
club, the Muggle-studies club, the D.A.D.A. club, the—”
“Merlin,” Albus cut her off, exhausted at the simple mention of that infinite
list, “I only have Quidditch trainings and with my N.E.W.T.’s this year I feel
like I can’t cope already.”
She shrugged a shoulder dismissively. “Zabini is in each and every single club,
in which I am, as well, and he has Head Boy duties and his N.E.W.T.’s too, so
honestly, it’s not like I’m doing something extraordinary.”
“Rose,” said Albus softly, looking at her with an exasperated look, “Zabini is
in each and every single club you are in because he has a bloody huge crush on
you. If you were at least a bit merciful, you would tell him you’re not
interest.”
Rose’s cheeks flushed crimson to match her hair, as she rolled up Hugo’s essay
and gave it back to her brother. “Oh please,” she replied, pulling some curls
nervously behind her ear, “the fact that he always agrees with everything I say
doesn’t mean that he has a crush on me.”
“He follows you around like a puppy,” pointed out Hugo with a grin.
“He gave you the diary,” said Albus, nodding towards a small leather book that
lay on the couch near her hand.
Rose rolled her eyes. “We just work together most of the time because we have
duties in this school,” she reminded them, “it doesn’t mean he fancies me.” She
snorted quietly and added in a murmur, “And he certainly doesn’t follow me
around like a puppy…”
Albus looked at her a bit taken aback. “Really?” he asked. “I mean, really you
don’t notice that he is madly in love with you?”
She snorted again and stretched her arms over her head. “It’s in times like
this one, that I wish that Victoire or Dominique or Roxanne or Lucy or Molly
were here,” she said calmly, “they would tell you to just—”
“Or Lily,” Albus cut her off quietly, looking at her.
Rose’s voice died in her throat. She nodded and lowered her eyes. “Or Lily,”
she murmured in agreement, forgetting what she was about to say to them.
“I’m off to bed,” said Hugo, standing up, his voice seemed a bit choked after
the mention of his cousin.
Albus yawned. “I wish I was too, but I have to retrieve Malfoy from the Trophy
Room in half an hour for patrol.”
Rose beamed at him. “Good boy,” she said patronisingly. “And I need to meet
Zabini in the Great Hall for a—oh, stop sniggering you two!”
***** Chapter XI *****
                                     *** 
Scorpius’ arms were in pain.
Honestly, he could endure hours of Quidditch training without so much as a
slight tiredness in his muscles at the end of the day; but his noble limbs were
not used to rubbing silver polish onto frames and trophies over and over again
until they shone.
Stupid, old-fashioned detentions…
As a result, for the first time in his life, Scorpius Malfoy couldn’t wait to
see Albus Potter.
Seeing Potter would mean that the time of patrol had at long last arrived, and
the Gryffindor boy would finally save him from the undesirable task of cleaning
the entire contents of the Trophy Room with what Filch had given him: a rug, a
sponge and some silver polish.
And those damn trophies and frames and plaques were as dirty as if they hadn’t
been polished in years, maybe decades. Which was surely not the case because
Scorpius knew that first years regularly carried out their detentions in that
room.
He suspected that Professor McGonagall tarnished them with some charm or
something, just for fun, right after one finished cleaning them. So that the
room was always ready in case someone was given a last minute detention.
Like himself.
Scorpius sighed. Oh well, that was his punishment and there wasn’t a way out of
it, really. And after all, apart from the pain, the smell of the silver polish,
and the general boredom of cleaning objects the Muggle way, it wasn’t as
terrible a task as he had expected it to be: he didn’t have to talk to anybody,
he didn’t have to think about what he was doing, he didn’t have to do much but
take out one trophy after the other and clean them mechanically, leaving his
mind free to wander.
And that was exactly what his mind was doing.
And, unsurprisingly, his mind soon filled with thoughts about Scarlet.
The more he thought about her, the more he understood that he felt something
for the girl. He had tried very hard not to feel something her, tried very,
very hard, but he hadn’t succeeded one bit. He had feelings for her and that
was all.
His father would kill him if he knew, and somehow Scorpius didn’t care.
Draco Malfoy had told him loud and clear that it was a deplorable thing to fall
in love with a prostitute. And Scorpius agreed with him. There was no doubt
there. But Scarlet didn’t look like a prostitute. She looked like a child,
really. A child in need of love and affection, and even though Scorpius had
never been a very affectionate young man, he couldn’t help thinking that he
wanted to be the very person to give her all the love she needed to be happy
for the rest of her life.
His parents would never accept such a union, though. They would kick him out of
the Manor. They would disinherit him. They would disown him.
Naturally, thinking about it as an indefinite thing, something that might or
might not have happened in an undefined future, was easy. He could tell himself
that he didn’t care about his inheritance, that he would free Scarlet, leave
Hogwarts, find a job somewhere and attend to each and every single need the
girl might have.
He furrowed his brow as he stopped rubbing the polish into the silver. That was
such a stupid concept though, that he had no idea how he could even think those
things. He was as good as a Pygmy Puff with anything manual, he was used to
relying on his parents for everything, he didn’t have the patience to take
orders from anybody at all, he didn’t even know where he would have lived with
Scarlet…
He shook his head forcefully and darkened as he started to rub the polish a bit
more forcefully now.
Professor McGonagall had written to his parents to let them know that he had
been away from school for one night, and his father’s reply had been cold like
the dungeons of the Manor on a January night.
His father hoped Scorpius had not gone to see the whore again. His grandparents
were particularly disappointed in him for his reckless behaviour. His mother
was seething. He told Scorpius that that was the last time he would allow him
to do such a thing. They would talk during the Easter holidays and he hoped
Scorpius didn’t expect him not to punish his son just because he was of age.
Scorpius had crumbled up the letter and thrown it away. He didn’t care. He
didn’t want to care. He had promised Scarlet he would go back and he was going
to do just that.
How, when and with what money, he didn’t know, but all he knew was that he had
to go back to see her.
No. Not go back just for an hour before the damn bell rang again and she had to
go to meet some other client. No. He really wanted to take her away.
Away from Nott. He had to.
He took a deep, angry breath, as he put away the heavy, silver dish he was
cleaning, and took out a small trophy. Someone called Betsy Magpie back in 1954
had been Head Girl and had done something that deserved a dusty old trophy in a
glass cupboard of the freaking Trophy Room. Good for her. Now if she could come
and pick up her trophy to take it home, Scorpius would have been utterly
ecstatic. It might have had some sentimental value as well, didn’t she want it
in her living room?
He sighed as he started to rub the silver polish into the trophy.
Stupid McGonagall…
He shook his head to think about something else, and somehow he was back to
thinking about Scarlet before he could even notice. He wondered what she was
doing at that very moment, but then he remembered that it was evening and a
surge of nausea rose in his stomach. The very thought of her perfect, beautiful
body being pushed into a mattress by someone who had to pay for sex made him
sick.
How could those people not see that she was special? That she looked like she
had royal blood flowing in her veins? And did they know that she was only
fifteen? He wondered if that turned her clients on even more. That she was
underage.
He grabbed the trophy with more force than was probably necessary and slammed
it back into the cupboard. He took out the frame next to it and snorted. 1997.
There was no order whatsoever in that place. And if the trophy had been about a
Head Girl who did some undefined good deed for the school, this was a picture
of a Quidditch Team winning the House Cup.
He glared at it. Gryffindor, naturally. At least if it had been the Slytherin
team he wouldn’t have minded that much. But it was Gryffindor, with all the
people wearing red and gold and…
Merlin! That must have been Potter’s father because he looked exactly like him.
And that one… red hair, tall, lanky, he looked quite a bit like Weasley. Hugo
Weasley, not his sister. And that one there…
Scorpius brought the frame closer to his nose.
That one there was Scarlet.
He sucked in his breath, his fingers tightening around the frame.
But that was not possible.
He scrunched up his eyes and bit his bottom lip. It’s not possible, it can’t be
possible. He opened his eyes again to stare at the picture once more.
No. Scarlet was not quite as bubbly as the girl who was jumping up and down
next to Potter’s father, sporting a grin that went from ear to ear. Scarlet was
delicate and soft and calm… But would she be if she hadn’t been confined in
that place all her life with a father like Nott? Maybe she would be just like
the girl there… the girl who looked so much like her, yet who seemed so much
happier… so much more—
“Slacking off, are we?”
Scorpius had to grab the frame at the last minute before it fell to the floor.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “What the hell is your problem,
Potter?” he hissed.
Potter’s head appeared from under his Invisibility Cloak. “You are my problem,
Malfoy,” he said nonchalantly, “I even have to come and pick you up.” He peered
over his shoulder and at the picture in Scorpius’ hands and smirked. “Looking
at my family’s picture?”
He looked down again and furrowed his brow. “What?” he asked confused.
“Well, almost,” he said, probably shrugging an invisible shoulder under the
cloak and pointing to the people in the picture. “My uncle, my father, my
mother, Aunt Katie even though she isn’t really—”
“Your mother?” asked Scorpius, looking intently at the girl sporting a grin. Of
course! Now he remembered. He had seen her in Diagon Alley that December
morning. Yes, during the Christmas holidays when he was there to collect the
money to go and see Scarlet. That day, at first, he had thought he had seen
Scarlet, but then noticed that he had been looking at a grown-up woman, not a
girl.
Scorpius’ swallowed. But this picture… it could have fooled anybody. Potter’s
mother looked incredibly like a prostitute, did the Gryffindor boy know? He
almost laughed at that. Of course he didn’t.
“Yeah,” replied Potter, snorting, “there’s a picture after this one where she
kisses my father, you don’t want to see it.”
Scorpius glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “No, I most certainly don’t,” he
replied dryly, putting the frame back into the cupboard and closing it.
“Are you ready for patrol?”
Scorpius looked at him and nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, and as Potter took off
his cloak, Scorpius followed him out of the Trophy Room.
***
Grimmauld Place was silent. So silent it was almost eerie.
Kreacher was sleeping in some cupboard, Harry and James were at work, and Albus
was at school.
Ginny was standing in Lily’s empty bedroom.
And Lily was nowhere to be found.
Ginny pulled the covers over the pillow and tucked them under the mattress. The
freshly laundered linen smelled of lavender, and Ginny couldn’t help thinking
of how much Lily liked that smell, as she unfolded, shook, and then refolded a
pink blanket over the foot of the bed. She took the stuffed animals that her
daughter owned and put them back over the covers.
The unicorn next to the Pegasus, she had heard Lily say once, because they are
both special horses and they will have lots to talk about and won’t get bored.
She heard, rather than saw, the loud thump of the first tear falling on Lily’s
pillow, and she hurried to rub her eyes dry before putting the soft toy that
looked like Padfoot next to a bunny and finally the teddy bear.
She surveyed her work and nodded.
Everything was ready. Everything had been ready for the past six years, five
months and two weeks. If Lily had come home that evening, she would have found
her room all set for her, she could have slept there straight away, and Ginny
would have slept with her and cradled her in her arms and told her how much she
had missed her for the whole night. Even after her daughter had fallen asleep.
And then she would have said, “I told you so,” to all the people who thought
that she would have never been found again. Because nobody believed her when
she said that her daughter was still alive. That she could feel that she was
not dead. Deep inside her heart.
She sighed and sat on the bed, leaning her head against one of the bedposts of
the four poster bed. If she closed her eyes she could still see her playing on
the floor with her toys, or listening to Rose as she read her a book out loud,
or Lily herself reading to her teddy bear.
She remembered her as if she had seen her the day before. Her bright eyes, her
smile, her little, naked feet on the cold floor of Grimmauld Place.
Ginny closed her eyes and didn’t even try to fight the tears. She would give
all the gold they had in Gringotts, she would give Grimmauld Place and
everything she owned to have Lily back.
Everything.
***
“I thought you polished that frame yesterday, Malfoy.”
Malfoy turned to look at Albus, eyes dark. “Yes, yes,” he replied hastily. “I
was just putting it back right.”
Albus looked warily at him and nodded.
That night Scorpius Malfoy hurried in front of him to go to patrol and he
didn’t say a word.
***
Scarlet was lying on her stomach on her bed when Taffy climbed up next to her.
She scrunched her eyes closed and clutched the pillow in her arms as the little
creature spread the ointment between her legs and proceeded to push a finger
inside of her tight hole to coax her abused walls.
“Why is Master so angry with Miss Scarlet?” squealed the elf agitatedly. “What
does Miss Scarlet do to make Master so angry?”
Scarlet sniffled loudly and tensed up as the smelly ointment came into contact
with the lacerated tissue inside her anus. Taffy massaged the small of her back
to soothe her and Scarlet tried to relax under the ministrations of the elf,
but it hurt, and all she wanted was to change position, curl up in a ball and
cry with her head pushed in the pillow.
“I don’t know,” she choked out. “I don’t know…”
When the elf’s finger exited her and Taffy jumped off the bed and walked
towards the bathroom, Scarlet let out the breath that she didn’t know she was
holding, and let all her muscles relax against the soft covers of the bed. The
ointment was quick to take effect and soon she could feel her lacerations heal
and her soreness disappear. She was glad that whatever she had done to make her
father so angry, it wasn’t that terrible that he would forbid Taffy to take
care of her.
“Is Miss Scarlet feeling better?” asked Taffy as she returned from the
bathroom, her clean hands patting her back.
“Hmm,” replied Scarlet, closing her eyes. “Better… thank you…”
The elf started to walk around the room, cleaning and folding her dresses and
her father’s clothes, and Scarlet listened to her as she worked, and every now
and then mumbled something in her high-pitched voice. Scarlet liked her voice,
even though it was not particularly pleasant, she had always associated Taffy’s
voice to the only happy moments in her life, and hearing her talking made her
feel safe and happy.
But thinking about Scorpius and imagining herself talking to him when he came
to see her made her feel all giddy and loved like she had never felt before in
all her life.
He was her knight.
Her friend.
Surely, he was the love of her life…
“Taffy,” she said softly, “I think I’m in love… no, I’m sure I’m in love…”
Taffy squealed. “Miss Scarlet must stop saying those things! Taffy is sure that
Master is angry at Miss Scarlet because of those things!”
Scarlet slid her arms up a bit, and hugged the pillow to her chest. “Father
doesn’t know,” she murmured thoughtfully. “I wish I could ask him if Scorpius
could come and stay with me all day…” She sighed. “And we could talk and talk
and talk and I would read to him and he would listen to me…” She opened her
eyes and waited for Taffy to come closer to her to whisper, “He made me do
magic, Taffy.”
Taffy’s huge eyes became even wider as she stretched a hand and covered
Scarlet’s mouth. “Miss Scarlet mustn’t say these things aloud,” she whispered,
“Master doesn’t want Miss Scarlet to do magic!”
She nodded and Taffy took her hand away. “I know,” said Scarlet softly, closing
her eyes for a moment. “He promised me he would come back. I don’t know when,
but he said he would… for me…” She yawned and felt Taffy place a blanket on top
of her.
“Miss Scarlet sleeps now,” said the elf softly, “Taffy will wake her up for
lunch…”
“Hmm,” she replied sleepily, “thank you, Taffy…”
The house-elf kept talking to herself as she worked around the room, and
Scarlet fell into a peaceful sleep filled with dreams of Scorpius and Taffy and
soup with bacon and potatoes and Viridina the witch…
***** Chapter XII *****
                                     *** 
For the fifth evening in a row, Scorpius took out the Gryffindor Quidditch team
picture from 1997 and stared at it. Albus Potter’s parents were doing the same
exact things that they had been doing the first four evenings. They were
smiling and raising their brooms up in the air, and jumping up and down and
looking just plain happy.
For the fifth evening in a row, Scorpius couldn’t help noticing how similar
Ginny Potter looked to Scarlet. His heart almost beat at a faster rate when he
looked at her, as if the two young women were the same person. In that picture
Ginny Potter should have been about the same age as Scarlet was now, and
honestly, the only difference was in their clothes and in the expressions on
their faces.
He had always seen Scarlet cry, or smile, or even beam at him, but he had never
witnessed her being in such high spirits like Potter’s mother was in that
photo.
He wished he could see Scarlet look like that one day.
He brushed his thumb over the picture and took a deep breath.
Scarlet didn’t look anything like Nott. Did that mean that somewhere there was
a witch who looked like Ginny Potter, and who was Scarlet's mother? Scorpius
didn’t know why he cared that much about that particular, but when she had told
him that her father didn’t want her to ask about her mother, he had felt a
surge of anger towards Nott, and a strange longing to discover Scarlet’s
heritage. As if there was a secret hidden somewhere in the girl’s story…
Scorpius’ head jerked up as an idea popped into his mind. An absurd idea,
really, that just couldn’t have been…
But they did look so similar…
Honestly…
What if Ginny Potter was Scarlet’s mother? Maybe there was a shady intrigue in
that story. Ginny Potter had had an extra-conjugal affair with Theodore Nott,
she had become pregnant and to hide the child from her husband, she had given
her to Nott to raise. That could have been why he didn’t want to tell her about
her mother, because it was a secret. A well-kept secret…
Scorpius shook his head forcefully. But that was absolutely ridiculous. He was
no expert in pregnancies and children, but somehow he imagined that Ginny
Potter would have had to hide her pregnancy, not the baby herself, and how to
hide a pregnancy? There were probably charms to disguise a woman’s extended
belly but honestly… Could one wear a charm for nine months? Would she have been
able to hide her pregnancy from her own husband?
No. He was really stupid.
And Ginny Potter didn’t seem the kind of woman to cheat on her husband. With
Nott, of all people.
No. That was absurd.
To add to that, he remembered seeing some pictures of Potter’s mother in the
Prophet, when they wrote articles about her daughter. The daughter that someone
had taken from her. She always looked so heartbroken and desperate, that
Scorpius couldn’t help thinking that she would have never given up a child like
that.
No. Surely she would have never given her daughter away like that. Because
someone had stolen Ginny Potter’s child and she had—
Scorpius’ head snapped up again as he stared in front of him. “Bloody sodding
hell,” he muttered.
He gasped out loud as if he couldn’t gulp down enough air and his heart started
to beat at double speed. His head began to hurt as another idea entered his
brain.
Ginny Potter… Ginny Potter was Scarlet’s mother.
But Theodore Nott wasn’t her father.
Scorpius’ eyes lowered to the picture again as he stared at the raven-haired
boy who looked a lot like Albus Potter.
Harry Potter was Scarlet’s father.
Scarlet was… she was…
Scorpius scrunched his eyes up. He had read about it, about the kidnapping.
Everybody had read about it, every student had talked about it at Hogwarts for
weeks after it had happened. James and Albus Potter, and a myriad of Weasleys,
had been removed from school for almost a fortnight after it had happened. 
Scorpius was in his first year and Potter’s sister was what? She was what,
dammit? Nine? Ten? Nine, she must have been nine. In his first year, that was
six and a half years before and that made the girl… fifteen… like Scarlet.
Scorpius shook his head. But that was ridiculous. No… Aurors had looked for her
everywhere, all around Europe even. And they had never found her.
And Scarlet… she talked like she had never been out of that place, she said she
had never seen what’s outside, she called Nott ‘Father’, she didn’t ask about
her parents, she said that Taffy had taken care of her since she was little,
she…
He closed his eyes again. No, she hadn’t. She had said that Taffy had taken
care of her ever since she could remember.
Remember.
Maybe she didn’t remember. She didn’t remember her parents, she didn’t remember
her life before Nott.
Maybe Nott… Nott had done something to her... Maybe he had cast her under a
spell... Maybe he had erased her memory, maybe...
Yes, maybe he had kidnapped her and erased her memory.
Scarlet…
Scarlet was Potter’s sister.
“I think you spend your evenings looking at pictures rather than cleaning,
Malfoy.”
Scorpius gasped and let the frame fall to the floor. The glass shattered into a
myriad of shards as the silver frame bounced on the stone floor with a loud
thud.
Scorpius turned to look at Albus Potter, his eyes as wide as if he had seen a
ghost. “Potter,” he breathed.
Potter quirked an eyebrow. “Yes,” he said matter-of-factly, “did you expect
someone else?” He looked down and sighed. “You either really like, or really
dislike that picture,” he said, drawing out his wand to probably repair it.
“No!” exclaimed Scorpius, picking up the photo and shaking the shattered glass
from it. “I… I’ll do it…” He looked at Potter as the Gryffindor gaped back at
him. “I… I’ll do it… later…” He pocketed the picture, perhaps not as subtly as
he had hoped because Potter exclaimed a loud, “Hey!”
Scorpius gave him his back and swallowed.
He needed proof, he needed to do some research. He needed to go and see Scarlet
again, and ask her about her past. See how far back she could remember. He
needed money. He needed to… he needed…
“Malfoy, what’s your problem?” asked Potter, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Nothing,” muttered Scorpius hastily, turning to look at him. “Let’s go.”
“You just stole a picture and broke a frame that will surely be worth a lot of
Galleons, shouldn’t you at least mend it and put the picture back?” he asked,
hands on his hips like Rose Weasley would do in that situation.
“What?” gasped Scorpius, taken aback.
“I said that you should mend the frame and put the picture back.”
“No,” snapped Scorpius, “not that, before that… it’s worth a lot of Galleons?”
Potter shrugged a shoulder. “Well, it’s silver,” he replied, “I’m sure
everything in here is quite valuable…”
Scorpius looked around himself. He was right. Those things were valuable. And
there were lots of things there. Surely not even a tenth of the stuff there was
worth… five hundred Galleons.
Just what he needed.
He drew out his wand and mended the frame hastily. “There,” he said to Potter,
before putting it back in the cupboard and closing it.
Potter gaped at him. “You have the picture in your pocket,” he said, as if he
was talking to a really young and really stupid boy.
“Do I?” asked Scorpius, cracking a nervous smile as he drew it out. “Oh, you’re
right…” He looked at the picture again before he put it into the cupboard
against the frame. “Let’s go,” he hurried to say, walking past him, “I have
something to do after patrol.”
***
Scorpius had letters to write after patrol.
The first letter that he wrote was addressed to the Daily Prophet.
He had to think for a couple of minutes about the name he wanted. He had read
it so many times in the past, but somehow he had managed to forget it. So, he
had had to go and ask his fellow Slytherins, but they all seemed uninterested
in the Potter kidnapping and didn’t remember anything as well.
Luckily, the Head Boy was not. Emeric Zabini seemed to know everything about
Potter’s sister. Scorpius imagined that, because of his crush on Rose Weasley,
he had listened to her talking incessantly about the events that had taken
place six years before, or maybe he had researched about the girl to show all
his sympathy towards the Head Girl.
Lily Luna Potter.
That was her name.
Scorpius’ heart beat a bit faster when he thought that that could have been
Scarlet’s name.
Her real name.
She had disappeared in September, six and a half years before, the ninth of
September more precisely. While she was in her grandparents’ garden. Hugo
Weasley was the only witness, and he had seen a tall, big man Stunning his
cousin and Disapparating with her in his arms.
Nott was tall and big.
But then Zabini didn’t know anything else, except that they had never found
her.
And so Scorpius was requesting all the past issues of the Prophet that had an
article on Lily Luna Potter.
And then, he needed all the issues that had an article on Theodore Nott as
well, before the ninth of September. Because honestly, why would he have taken
away Potter’s daughter? Just for fun? Was he really that cruel? And that didn’t
make sense, he could have gotten Hugo Weasley as well, if he wanted children
just for fun, but he hadn’t even looked at him.
No, he had wanted Lily. Just Lily.
And yes, Lily was beautiful, and she surely brought in his business quite a lot
money at the price he sold her, and he forced her to sleep with him and all,
but… was that all there was?
Did Nott just need a baby prostitute, and got the first child he could find?
And Lily was unfortunate enough to be there? But no, Potter’s grandparents
lived in Devon… That was quite a long way from London, and he could have gotten
a horde of Muggle girls, and the Ministry wouldn’t have even blinked.
Scorpius shook his head. He needed to read the articles. He needed to
understand. He wrote the letter quickly and sealed it in an envelope.
The second letter he wrote was for Nott & Goyle ltd. Did they accept valuables
besides money? He had lots. Silver trophies and frames and plaques. He would
shrink them, stuff them in a little pouch and send them as many as they wanted.
His owl was strong and used to travel with heavy weights.
He wrote them, requesting another hour with Scarlet.
He would send silver articles, equating five hundred Galleons.
The next morning he was in the Owlery before dawn, to send the letters.
***
Nott’s mouth twitched upwards as he read the message that the young Malfoy had
sent him.
Did they accept valuables besides money?
No, they didn’t, but for the one and only heir to the Malfoy fortune, they
could do an exception. Especially as he would be stealing from Hogwarts to be
with a prostitute.
Nott would have to remember to visit the Manor right after the young man was
expulsed from school. He couldn’t wait to see Draco’s face.
He tapped the tip of his wand on a silver button on his desk and waited.
Ah, what one did for love!Stealing. Visiting brothels. Conserving the non-
existing purity of a prostitute by refusing to fuck her.
There was a quick knock on the door and Charles walked into Nott’s office, as
soon as he was bade. “You called, Sir,” he said, bowing slightly.
“Yes, Charles,” he replied, handing the letter to him. “Answer to Mister
Malfoy, please, tell him that we accept anything that he wants to send us.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And once he books his appointment with Scarlet, let me know,” continued Nott,
“I want to talk to him after he finishes with her.”
“Yes, Sir,” repeated Charles.
Nott looked at his employee and cocked his head. “How far along are you,
Charles?” he asked with a subtle smirk.
Charles swallowed and smiled nervously. “I’ve still got two hundred Galleons to
go, Sir.”
Nott nodded thoughtfully. “Don’t worry,” he said, “she’s worth the effort.”
***
Scorpius had underestimated the importance of Lily Luna Potter.
He was unsure as to how he could have possibly done that – in all fairness, she
was the only daughter of the Head Auror, The Boy-Who-Lived and saviour of the
Wizarding World – but Scorpius had. And now he was staring at an impressive
pile of past issues of the Daily Prophet being delivered to the Slytherin
table, right in the middle of breakfast. And, naturally, all the other
Slytherins were looking at him.
No, the whole Great Hall was staring at him.
Particularly Rose Weasley, and with a murderous glare to add to that. Really,
as if she was certain that he was doing something that was completely and
utterly wrong, and that would have got him – one of her precious Prefects –
into trouble again.
He lowered his eyes to the pile of newspapers and gritted his teeth. He took
out his wand and shrunk them, as much as he could, before levitating the pile
towards the door of the Great Hall, ignoring the whispering coming from the
people around him.
“Where are you going?”
Scorpius let out a frustrated groan. “The library,” he replied, without even
looking at the Head Girl.
“What is this?” she asked and he could almost sense her hands on her hips in
her voice.
“Newspapers.”
“Why do you have newspapers?”
He finally looked at her. “You are joking, right?” he hissed. “I mean… this is
private.”
She flared her nostrils. “You are not getting into trouble again, are you?”
“Of course I am,” he replied, rolling his eyes, “I am always getting into
trouble. Just because I really want you to have the worst year ever as a Head
Girl.” He turned on his heels as Weasley started to become red with fury, and a
satisfied smirk crept on Scorpius’ face.
***
Scorpius didn’t know what he should have expected from the articles. He knew
the whole story now, that was sure, or at least the story that the Prophet had
published.
But apart from the fact that she had been kidnapped when she was nine, on the
ninth of September, that Hugo Weasley had seen a tall, big, masked man, and
that she had been taken away and never returned to her family – all things that
he had known from Zabini anyway – the Prophet didn’t talk about her.
It talked about her family, about the various leads that had all resulted in
dead ends, and about the anniversaries of her disappearance.
And then there were pictures of her. At first they were pictures that her
family had given to the newspaper. That was the child that the Ministry was
looking for, did anybody have news about her? And then they morphed the picture
to make her look like she had aged. In those pictures, she looked vaguely like
Scarlet, but Scarlet was even more beautiful and just plain… different.
Somehow, especially in her eyes, she was nothing like those pictures. The eyes
of the girl in the morphed photos were glittering with childish mischief,
Scarlet’s were dreamier and sadder.
He took a deep breath and folded all the newspapers, pushing them to a corner
of the table he had occupied in a sheltered alcove of the library.
Nott. He needed to focus on Nott now.
There wasn’t much about him, but the Daily Prophet had been quite thorough, and
had sent issues from back in the days about him. His father was a Death Eater,
his mother died when he was just a child. He had fought on the wrong side of
the battle during the Second Wizarding War.
But Scorpius’ father had too.
In the oldest pictures, he looked tall and thin and quite weakly built, but his
harsh features and his malicious eyes were easily recognisable.
Scorpius picked up some of the most recent issues. The summer before Lily’s
disappearance for example. They talked about Nott quite a few times, and he had
to go back to May to find the first article of the series.
Scorpius’ heart skipped a beat. There had been something, something that Head
Auror Potter had done that involved Theodore Nott. A raid. A raid to close down
all Wizarding whorehouses across Great Britain.
According to the Prophet. Theodore Nott owned three, two in London and one in
Liverpool. Many other people owned many others, and they had closed a total of
fifteen. Nott was barely mentioned really, only a name in a list. But the
people involved had to pay quite a sum ofmoney to stay out of Azkaban. Most of
them were broke by the end of the trials.
In the United Kingdom, prostitutes were not illegal, brothels, au contraire,
were; but nobody in the Wizarding World had felt the urge to abide by that law
until the moment Harry Potter had enforced it with severity.
Luckily, the Daily Prophet had ignored his wish to request issues only until
Lily’s disappearance, because after the ninth of September of six years before
there were a couple of articles that talked about Nott & Goyle ltd., and about
how a Wizarding enterprise had started working in the Muggle world and it was,
apparently, prospering.
According to the newspaper, Nott was a role model.
After a shady past in the business of whorehouses, he had redeemed himself and
constructed a financial empire. And to top that, he was a pure-blood wizard and
the son of a Death Eater, who now worked with Muggles.
Scorpius gritted his teeth. Most of that money was brought in by Scarlet alone.
He doubted that the Muggle enterprise even existed.
He needed to go back to the brothel and see her again.
Right now he was almost sure she was Potter’s daughter, but he needed to be
certain before he acted. And after his suspicions had been confirmed, he would
need to decide what to do about her…
Scorpius shook his head.
Did her identity really matter? What if she wasn’t Potter’s daughter? What if
Nott was her actual father?
She didn’t deserve to be left there in his care a minute longer…
Yes, Scorpius already knew what to do about her.
He just needed to find a way to do it.
He needed to rescue the girl from that place.
***** Chapter XIII *****
                                     *** 
Scorpius sent five hundred Galleons worth of silver articles to Nott & Goyle
ltd.
Or not. Maybe he sent more than that, maybe he sent less. He was not an expert
on precious metals and their value on the market, but he was sure that had he
not reached the sum of Galleons that Scarlet was worth, Nott would have let him
know straight away.
It had taken him a great effort to choose the items that he thought had the
highest value amongst the ones stashed in the Trophy Room, and then shuffle the
other trophies and plates around to cover the empty spaces he was leaving. He
had to crouch in a corner far away from the prying eyes of Brutus Scrimgeour's
portrait, to shrink them with a whispered, “Reducio”. Then patrol time came
around, and while he was profusely sweating his life out as he walked the
corridors, he was also hoping that Potter couldn’t hear the slight tinkling of
the miniature medals and cups and awards in his pockets.
All of this he endured until the day he felt he had piled enough silver in his
trunk.
So Scorpius sent the stolen silver to Nott & Goyle ltd. – and his Eagle Owl was
very displeased with the little burden of shrunken items he had to bring all
the way down to London, and made that painfully clear by biting Scorpius’
fingers with a powerful snap of its beak as he tied the pouch around its claw –
and they finally sent back one of their trademark cards with Scorpius’ full
name, a date and a time, and Scarlet’s name at the very bottom.
The day was the twenty-fifth of February.
The time, ten in the evening.
And Scorpius waited impatiently for that day and time to arrive.
He was terrified of McGonagall or Filch finding out about his thefts before he
could make his way to Hogsmeade for the second time. But the day of his
appointment arrived faster than he had expected and nobody, not even Potter,
who came to pick him up in that room every evening, noticed that anything was
missing. After all, the notion of a student stealing from Hogwarts sounded so
absurd that nobody went to verify the state of the items after he carried out
his detention night after night. And in addition, there were so many old and
dusty things in that room that even when forty-six items had been taken –
stolen, he reminded himself – it most likely made no difference at all.
A second time probably wouldn’t have gone unnoticed, but for now he didn’t need
to worry about that.
And the night of the appointment, Scorpius walked out of the school without
thinking twice about what the Headmistress would tell him the following
morning, once he had been found missing yet again. He was ready to resign his
Prefect badge. He didn’t care.
He was going to see Scarlet.
That was all that mattered.
***
“It’s such a pleasure to see you again, Mr Malfoy,” said Charles, his voice
almost amused as he smirked at him. “Room number seven tonight, Sir, Freya will
take you there.”
A blonde girl guided him through the corridor. Scorpius didn't pay her any
attention at all – he didn’t even know if she had said anything to him. He had
looked around himself the whole time, trying to memorise the place.
Apart from the thick curtain that led to the staircase, many doors opened on
the round room. One led to the bedrooms where the girls met the clients, and
that was the only one he had ever used. He suspected that one led to Nott’s
private rooms, as well as maybe those of the prostitutes, while he was afraid
that one opened on to the playroom and whatever other depravity Nott had in
there. Surely dungeons and cells for when the girls misbehaved.
For when Scarlet misbehaved.
The others… they could be fake doors, really, or they could lead anywhere, but
he doubted they led outside, and that was the only thing that he needed to
know.
“Scarlet will be with you shortly, Sir,” said the girl with a slight smirk, as
Scorpius opened the door and walked inside.
He looked around himself. The room looked the same as number fifteen and number
ten, but the colour was yet again different. This one was blue, even though it
had the same pieces of furniture and the same disposition of the other rooms.
Scorpius took off his cloak and started to pace about the place.
He tried to list all the questions that he had thought to ask her. All the
questions that he needed to ask her. What’s the first thing that you can
remember? How old were you when you started working here? Have you always lived
here?
And many other things, too many, he hoped an hour was enough. He wasn’t sure,
but he had to focus and, above all, make Scarlet focus. Tonight, her mind
couldn’t wander. They couldn’t talk about Viridina, or about spells. She had to
listen and reply to his questions. She had to understand that he needed her to
pay attention.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door that distracted him from his musings,
and Scorpius turned his head so quickly that he could hear his neck crack.
“Come in,” he said hastily.
Like the time before, the door opened and closed too rapidly for him to notice
the movement at all, and soon Scarlet was in his arms. He had opened them right
before she was on him, knowing that she would hurry to hug him and wanting to
be ready to welcome her. She pressed her little body against him, and he
squeezed her tightly, leaning his cheek against the top of her head. Her silky
hair was soft against his skin, and her nimble fingers gripped the back of his
robes as if her life depended on it.
“I missed you,” he whispered, unable to restrain himself.
She pressed herself even more forcefully against him. “I missed you too,” she
murmured. She raised her head to look at him and beamed. “Are we going to do
magic tonight?” she asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
He shook his head and unhooked her arms from around his torso. He took her hand
into his own and guided her towards the bed. “Sit down,” he said, tightening
his hand around hers as she motioned to go and sit on the floor. “No,” he
continued, “sit on the bed with me, tonight.”
She smiled wide and sat next to him, looking impossibly happy to be so close to
him.
He turned a bit towards her and stared gravely at her face. She mirrored his
movements to look back at him, brown eyes wide with expectation.
“Scarlet,” he started resolutely, “I need to ask you some things tonight.”
Her lips parted in surprise and she nodded. “Yes,” she replied, “everything you
want, Scorpius.”
He nodded back and took a deep breath. “What’s your first memory?” he asked,
looking into her eyes.
She frowned slightly, as if she found the question odd, but then she lowered
her eyes in concentration while she tried to recall the first thing she could
remember. “I… I…” she stuttered as she thought. “I think… I think my first
memory is when I woke up in bed with Father one morning and he told me to dress
quickly because I had to take a bath with the girls…”
“How old were you?”
She smiled at that, as if that was an easy question. “Nine, it was right after
my birthday,” she replied securely.
Scorpius swallowed. Nine. Nine. Lily’s age when she had been kidnapped.
“I… I have other memories, you know,” she added, fidgeting nervously, “but they
feel different…”
“What do you mean?” asked Scorpius urgently.
She shook her head. “I don’t know,” she replied, “I have a memory of Father
slapping me when I was five after I spilled a glass of milk, but it’s all
foggy, and one of him and Uncle Gregory laughing when I fell from a chair when
I was little, but that too is all unfocused…”
He looked intently at her. Of course, if they were fake memories that would
have explained why they felt different to her. But Merlin! Had she really
started working there at the age of nine? That was revolting. Scorpius felt
rage and disgust rising in his stomach. A child. She had been a little child
when she became the most expensive prostitute in Nott’s brothel. He wanted to
kill Nott with his bare hands at that very moment. He wanted to feel the life
leaving his body under his fingertips.
“Have you always lived here?” he asked her, trying to suffocate his feelings.
She nodded. “Ever since I can remember,” she replied softly.
So Nott had brought her there from her grandparents’ house and never let her
out. She had been outside, she just couldn’t remember it. He swallowed and took
a deep breath. “Have you ever heard of Harry Potter?” he finally asked.
She shook her head, and Scorpius felt rather more disappointment than he
thought he should. “No,” she replied, before cocking her head a bit. “Is he in
a book?”
He nodded. “Many books,” he told her softly, “he’s famous.”
She beamed at him. “Maybe you can tell me about him?” she asked Scorpius,
probably hoping to hear a tale from him.
He shook his head firmly. “Not tonight.”
Scarlet looked at him, a bit taken aback, and lowered her eyes. “Yes, sorry,”
he murmured meekly.
Scorpius took a deep breath. If only he could, he would tell her everything.
No, he didn’t want to be the one to tell her everything. He wanted to look at
her face as Harry Potter himself told her everything.
Everything about him.
Everything about her.
He placed two fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to make her look at
him. He smiled softly at her. “Not tonight, Scarlet,” he repeated gently, “I
need to ask you some more things.”
Her brown eyes filled with confusion as if she didn’t understand why he wanted
to ask her so many things, but nonetheless, she nodded.
He smiled at her. “How do you know that Theodore Nott is your father?”
She looked at him, her mouth a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. “I know,” she said
softly, “I just… I just know… he told me.”
Of course. “Scarlet, if you close your eyes and focus, are you sure… are you
sure that you have never been in any other place but this one?”
She beamed at him. “Oh, but I’ve been in so many places! I’ve been in all the
places that Viridina has been, and I’ve been to Hogwarts and I’ve been around
the world with Newt Scamander as he looked for his fantastic beasts and—”
“No,” he cut her off more roughly than he had wanted, “no, real places,
Scarlet. Outside. I don’t know, a house with a garden and a pond, or Diagon
Alley, or… I don’t know… a station.”
She shook her head. “No,” she replied dejectedly. “I’ve never been anywhere.”
She looked up at him and added, “I’m sorry, Scorpius…” her voice tiny.
“It’s not your fault,” he said softly, shaking his head.
“Maybe you can tell me about them?” she asked gently, her beam again stretching
her lips.
“No, Scarlet,” he replied almost impatiently, “not tonight.”
She looked at his face, probably crestfallen to have annoyed him a little bit.
She slid from the bed to her knees and hugged his waist, leaning her head onto
his lap and starting to cry. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m sorry, Father is
right, I’m only a silly, little girl… I’m sorry…”
Scorpius placed his hands on her head and started to caress her hair. He still
had to ask her so many things, and she just wanted him to tell her stories. But
it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t imagine why he needed to know these things,
nor could he tell her. It was too dangerous. What if she said something in
front of Nott and he punished her and next time Scorpius came, he didn’t let
him see her?
He slid a hand down her arm and she raised her head to look at him. He wrapped
his finger around her soft flesh and guided her back on the bed, closer to him,
until her knees bumped into his.
“You are not a silly, little girl,” he murmured seriously. He cupped her cheeks
and brushed away her tears. “You are perfect,” he told her, stretching his neck
to plant a kiss on her forehead. “And I want to tell you everything, every
story and tale that I know, but I can’t tonight, Scarlet, okay? I… I just need
to ask you more things… about you…”
She nodded, but looked disconsolate. “But you already know everything about me,
Scorpius,” she whispered.
He nodded back. “I know what you do all day,” he agreed, restraining himself
from adding, ‘and all night’. “But I need to know what you used to do before
you worked here.”
She shook her head, still confused. “Nothing,” she replied softly, “I’ve always
worked here.”
“Do you have anything… anything that your father didn’t give you? Anything… a
piece of clothing, a ribbon, a bracelet…”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Do you ever dream of people you’ve never met?” he went on asking, his tone
almost frantic now. He didn’t know what he was looking for; some proof, some
tangible proof, maybe, that she was not Scarlet Nott. That she was someone
else.
That she was Lily Luna Potter.
She lowered her eyes. “No,” she replied, her voice tiny. Her cheeks flushed
slightly and she seemed to want to add something, but she didn’t.
He swallowed and asked, “Does the name Lily tell you anything?”
He was not an expert on how Memory Charms worked exactly. But he remembered
that they had studied that each one was different, depending on what the caster
wanted to erase. And Nott had seemed to have wanted to erase every bit of her
life until the day he had taken her away.
She shook her head. “No,” she replied, before sniffling. “I’m sorry…”
He furrowed his brow. “Why?” he asked confused.
“Because I don’t know anything,” she sobbed.
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “No,” he whispered
soothingly, “it’s all right, Scarlet.” After all, now that he thought about it,
that was exactly the proof that he needed. She didn’t remember anything, not
only her family and herself, but she didn’t remember Nott before she was nine,
and when she did she was confused, as if those memories had been planted there
by someone else.
She had to be Potter’s daughter.
She had to be Lily Luna Potter.
Yes. Scorpius didn’t need to ask her anything else. He was sure now. He had
been sure for a while, but the absurdity of it all had made him doubt it. Made
him doubt her identity.
They stayed in the arms of the other for more time than Scorpius thought it
should have been wise. But even though he had more questions for her, he didn’t
need to ask her any of them, and he just couldn’t bring himself to let her go.
She was small and soft and smelled so good. She was breathing softly against
his neck and his flesh was covered in goose bumps right where her breath
tickled him. He wondered if she could hear his frantic heartbeat, if she could
feel that her proximity did something to him, if she could notice that he had
to take shallow breaths to calm down and shift on the bed to hide his half-hard
member.
He didn’t care if she noticed though. He just didn’t want to let her go. Ever.
But he had to. Time was flying. He didn’t even know for how long he had kept
her in his arms. For too short a time, honestly. He wanted to keep her there
for all his life. He closed his eyes and saw himself at the Manor, with Scarlet
by his side curled on a couch in the drawing room and a merry fire crackling in
the hearth. He saw himself kissing her and heard her giggling against his lips.
He imagined her little digits threading through his blond hair.
With great effort, he opened his eyes and forced himself out of his reverie. He
unwrapped his arms from around her body and made her tilt her head back.
“Scarlet,” he said seriously, “don’t tell your father anything about this,
okay?”
She nodded, her eyes wide and her lips parted in her usual surprised
expression.
He smiled softly at her. “Good,” he whispered, “good…” He pulled some locks
behind her ear and brushed her cheek lightly with his fingertips. He wanted to
kiss her. He wanted to kiss her so badly that the desire burned through his
veins and made him ache.
And somehow the fact that Scarlet Nott was a prostitute didn’t matter.
And not even the little detail that Lily Luna Potter was the only daughter of
the Head Auror, and sister to Albus Potter, made any difference.
Scorpius didn’t care. Whoever she was, he had fallen head over heels in love
with her, and all he wanted was to take her away from that place.
Take her away from Nott.
“Scarlet…” he murmured, looking at her ruby lips.
“Yes,” she breathed, waiting probably for him to say something, anything.
“I… I want to… I need to…”
But once again it felt as if the bell had known his intentions, because every
time he was about to kiss her, the infernal sound bounced on the walls of the
room.
Scarlet whimpered at the sound, her white, soft hands gripping the front of his
robes. “You’ll come back?” she asked frantically.
“I promise,” he murmured, bringing his lips to her forehead to kiss her.
Then the second bell rang, much sooner than he had expected, and she looked at
him longingly before standing up and hurrying outside. Once again she was gone
too quickly for him to even say goodbye.
Scorpius sighed as he grabbed his cloak and donned it. He had wanted to tell
her that next time he would come back he was going to take her with him. But he
had no idea how to do it or when that would be. And he couldn’t risk her saying
anything, not even to her house-elf – because what if the creature told on her?
And then what if the next time he booked an appointment with her, they forbade
him from seeing her?
He shook his head to send those scary thoughts away.
But how, how could he take her out of there? Maybe he should have alerted the
Aurors, but then he would be sentenced to Azkaban for presumably having been
with Scarlet, even though he had never been with her at all. He wondered if his
word – and maybe hers, if someone asked her – would have been enough against
the registries where his name appeared so many times next to hers.
Again, he tried to send those thoughts away, but he only managed to end up
thinking about what awaited him when he would go back to Hogwarts, because
surely Potter had told on him once again. Surely, McGonagall was waiting for
him at the gate. Maybe she had found out about the missing pieces from the
Trophy Room after all. Maybe he was going to be kicked out of school… but
suddenly, he didn’t even care that much. School seemed such a stupid thing at
that moment. Especially when he thought about Scarlet and her life.
He had lived all his life like a spoiled prince and the girl he loved was a
slave. How could he care about something as trivial as school when he thought
about that? He was not even going to work after Hogwarts, he was a Malfoy, he
had a fortune to spend as he liked, he didn’t need to conclude his studies. He
wanted to stay in his Manor with Scarlet. With Lily. He wanted to be with her
forever.
He shook his head as his heart clenched at those thoughts. He finally walked
towards the door, opening it and stopping in his tracks as he looked down at
the tanned and cunning face of Lulu.
“Mr Malfoy,” she said with a sneer, “Mr Nott would like to talk to you.”
Scorpius swallowed hard. “Why?” he asked dryly.
Lulu smirked in response. “If you’d like to follow me, I’ll take you to his
office,” she replied, and Scorpius suspected that she, as well, didn’t know why
the owner of the brothel would want to talk to him.
Scorpius didn’t want to follow her. What did Nott want? He hoped fervently that
it was something about the payment he had made. Money was not a problem, he
would tell him to contact his father; Draco Malfoy would bark and howl but he
would pay in the end and after that all Scorpius needed was more money to see
her. One last time.
But what if Nott… Scorpius didn’t even know. What if Nott had noticed
something? But something like what? He had told Scarlet not to say a word to
her father and she had nodded and promised him. But what if he had other ways
of getting to know things? What if he had used Veritaserum on her, or if he
spied on them when he came to see her? What if he was going to tell him to
never come back?
Scorpius felt his heart growing heavier as he finally stepped out of the room
and followed Lulu into the corridor. She walked swiftly and he had to hurry to
keep up with her. She guided him all the way back into the round room, and
closed the door at his back when they were inside.
Scorpius glanced furtively at Charles, but the man was busy with a client and
didn’t even look back at him. Lulu, though, guided him towards one of the many
doors in the room and opened it for him.
“Follow the corridor, Sir,” she told him, brushing his back with her hand,
“it’s the door at the very end.”
Scorpius nodded stiffly and walked inside. The moment the door closed at his
back, lights sparkled to life on the walls. He swallowed again. He had to stay
calm and look composed. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had just talked to
her. Was that the problem? Did he have to have sex with her? Was that mandatory
when one booked an hour with a prostitute? What if one didn’t want to? He would
accuse Nott of violation of privacy, if he had anything to say to him about
that.
He could feel his heart in his throat as he stepped in front of the door that
sported the name of the man that he had come to hate so much.
He raised his hand to knock, but Nott’s voice reached him loud and clear before
his knuckles could even touch the wood. “Come in,” he said calmly.
Scorpius bit his bottom lip as he pushed the door open.
Nott was sitting at his desk, apparently busy writing some documents. He smiled
and gestured for Scorpius to sit on a comfortable armchair opposite to him, but
didn’t even look at him as the young man followed his wordless directions.
“Hello, young Malfoy,” the wizard finally greeted him as he closed the folder
in front of him. He looked at him and smiled almost affably.
“Mr Nott,” replied Scorpius stiffly.
“I hope I’m not keeping you from anything important,” he said calmly, “even
though I couldn’t help noticing that tonight is a school night, and if I’m not
mistaken you should be at Hogwarts.”
Scorpius shifted nervously. “You are not mistaken,” he replied icily, narrowing
his eyes.
“I’m surprised Professor McGonagall would let you roam freely about the country
at night while at school,” he continued, “especially to visit a prostitute.”
Scorpius gritted his teeth. “Obviously, she doesn’t know.”
Nott laughed. “Obviously,” he repeated. “I don’t think she would allow anything
like that if she knew.” He smirked and added, “Ah, what one does for a woman,
young Malfoy, am I right? Especially one like Scarlet.” Her name rolled on his
tongue almost vulgarly and Scorpius couldn’t help thinking that that name
didn’t belong on that man’s lips.
“Especially one like her,” replied Scorpius coldly, his grey eyes narrowing as
he stared at the man in front of him with hatred.
Then something flashed in his mind. An idea. A risky, stupid idea. An idea that
had no business being executed, especially because Scorpius was already sure of
Scarlet’s identity. But he felt like he wanted to try it. For some unknown
reason, deep inside, Scorpius wanted to try it. He crossed his arms over his
chest and almost smirked at him, feeling suddenly bold. “She’s beautiful like a
flower, isn’t she?” he asked softly. “Yes, pretty and innocent-looking. Like a
lily flower…”
Scorpius’ voice trailed away and his words hung in the air for a long moment
after he had stopped talking, but then the boy had to grit his teeth to keep
himself from reacting to Nott’s reaction.
It had only been a flicker over the man’s face, quick like the flutter of the
wings of a butterfly, but his muscles had tensed for a spare second, his eyes
had flashed with a sinister light as he glared at Scorpius at the mention of
the flower.
Oh yes.
She was just like a lily.
No.
She actually was Lily.
Scorpius smirked at him. “Isn’t she though?” he asked calmly.
“She most certainly is not,” he replied coldly, before barking out a laughter.
“There’s nothing innocent and pretty about a prostitute. She’s very skilled in
the art of pleasing a man, though. But I’m sure you know everything about that,
young Malfoy.”
Scorpius felt the colour drain from his face as he listened to him, his
audacity from before completely forgotten as he tried to push images of Lily
and Nott in bed from his brain. “Yes,” he replied icily.
“Even though,” said Nott, thoughtfully, “I don’t think you’ve taken her in the
arse yet, am I right?” He smirked and added, “She squeals and cries so
deliciously when someone does. You can hear her throughout the whole
whorehouse.”
Scorpius felt nausea rise inside his stomach. He didn’t even want to think
about that. The very thought of Scarlet crying as someone took her like an
animal made him sick. He stared coldly at Nott and didn’t reply.
Nott sneered at him, surely sensing his discomfort like an animal sensing fear.
“But I’m glad you find her of your liking, young Malfoy. I’ve never seen
someone come back quite that often for a prostitute. Not even for her.” He
raised his eyebrows and smirked. “But then not many people have access to such
sums of money as you do.”
“I imagine they don’t,” he replied frostily.
Nott nodded, cocking his head. “She’s worth that money, though,” he said,
before adding in a lower tone of voice, “but one has to be careful not to start
feeling something for her.” He looked at him with a piercing stare. “She’s a
prostitute after all, and she doesn’t know what love is, all she has always
known is lust. The lust of many men before you, Malfoy, and even after you.
Long after you’ll get tired of her company and forget her, she’ll still be
here, pleasing man after man and bringing money to my humble enterprise.”
Scorpius’ hands balled into fists, he was not sure he could hide the hatred on
his face at that moment. He wanted to hex him. He wanted to kill him and go get
Scarlet and disappear into the night with her. Let her know that he would never
get tired of her. He could never get tired of her.
“I’m afraid I have to go, Mr Nott,” he muttered, his voice like ice. “It is a
school night after all, as you pointed out.”
“Of course,” said Nott, standing up. “I understand.” He smirked and added,
“Please, do send us more of those valuables, in case you want her services
again, Malfoy.”
“I will,” replied Scorpius, standing up, turning on his heels and walking
towards the door.
“Malfoy,” Nott called him before he could walk out.
Scorpius stopped and looked at him from over his shoulder.
“She’s not the flower you think she is,” said Nott, his voice far tenser than a
few seconds before.
Scorpius stared at him warily, before smirking softly. “Then I must have
mistaken her for someone else,” he replied, giving him his back again as he
opened the door and walked into the corridor.
“Malfoy,” Nott called him one last time.
This time Scorpius didn’t even turn as the man hissed, “I’d rather see her dead
than have her taken away from me.”
And then the door slammed shut, and Scorpius’ insides turned to ice as he let
Nott’s words sink into his brain.
***
Scarlet didn’t fall asleep that night.
She passed out under Nott, after he took her for the third time.
He exited her tight cunt with difficulty, his own muscles strained with the
effort of thrusting into her with fury, his body covered in sweat. He collapsed
next to Scarlet and manoeuvred her body until she was facing him. His arms
wrapped around her in a mocking gesture of love. He brushed her matted hair
from her face and made her tilt her limp head up.
“What do I have to do with you, my little flower?” he whispered to her. “Should
I have died your hair? Should I have scarred your face? Should I have cut off
your tongue?” He looked at her closed eyes and caressed her flushed cheek. “But
then you wouldn’t have been Potter’s daughter anymore, and I needed to preserve
you like I found you, I needed to see your mother on your face every single
day… You are my spoil of war. He might have taken all my money and my business,
but I took you from him.” He squeezed her in his arms and she whined pitifully
in her sleep. “But that Malfoy boy is not as stupid as I thought he was… We
will have to guard ourselves from him, my little flower…” He kissed her on her
forehead and smirked, “We don’t want him to take you away from me…”
***** Chapter XIV *****
Chapter Notes
     The last scene features explicit, femslash non-con. Read at your own
     discretion.
                                     *** 
Scorpius was feeling the urge to confess to Professor McGonagall that he had
been to a whorehouse. Just for fun really, because if her face was already all
red now, he could only imagine how she would have looked once he had delivered
that piece of information. Maybe she would sprout whiskers as the rage took
hold of her senses, and she half transformed into a cat.
But that foolish thought was quick to pass – unlike the night before when he
had not-so-subtly hinted to Nott that he knew about Scarlet’s real identity –
and instead he sat there in silence, listening to her as she told him that he
had lost all his Prefect privileges with his latest bravado, that she was going
to summon his parents, that if he broke the school rules one more time he would
be expelled.
He pretended to care and look contrite, when in reality all he wanted to do was
bolt from that chair and go somewhere tranquil, where he could think. Think
about how to find the money that he needed, and how to get Scarlet out of that
place.
“And tell your friend he’s lucky I don’t summon his parents as well!” snapped
Professor McGonagall indignantly. “He didn’t report you when he knew you were
missing! Outrageous!”
Scorpius furrowed his brow. “Who are you talking about?” he asked slightly more
harshly than he had intended. “Professor,” he added as an afterthought.
She looked sharply at him. “Mr Potter,” she replied curtly, “he knew perfectly
well that you were gone, and he didn’t say anything. Not a single word!”
“What? Why?” asked Scorpius in disbelief.
Professor McGonagall ignored him as she opened a drawer and took out a quill
and a piece of parchment. “I will write to your parents, Mr Malfoy,” she said
severely, “they must be informed. They need to come here, and I shall talk to
them.” She looked at him and took a deep breath, probably trying to calm
herself down. “Is there anything you would like to tell me before I write to
them, Mr Malfoy?”
Scorpius lowered his eyes and shook his head. “No, Professor,” he replied
softly.
She took another deep breath, her nostrils flaring with the motion. “Very
well,” she said sternly, “you may go, Mr Malfoy.”
Scorpius nodded and stood up. He heard the scraping of the quill on the
parchment and groaned at what his parents would tell him once they came to
Hogwarts. His mother would either turn crimson with rage, or she would pale
with indignation, because she surely would know straight away where he had
been. And his father would wonder where he had found the money for the
prostitute this time… but Scorpius hoped he wasn’t going to ask him in front of
Professor McGonagall.
Scorpius closed the door at his back and shook his head. Surely his father
wouldn’t ask him that in front of the Headmistress. That would have meant
admitting that he knew that his son was frequenting a brothel, and Professor
McGonagall was a close friend to Potter’s father. She wouldn’t have thought
twice about reporting Scorpius’ parents and Scorpius himself. No, his father
wouldn’t say anything in front of her, but afterwards, surely, he would have
hauled him over the coals.
But maybe Scorpius could have gone back to Nott & Goyle and taken Scarlet away
before his parents arrived. And then they would  be on the run together. He
shook his head again, almost furiously this time, to send that thought away. He
didn’t want her to be on the run, she had to go back to her family. Her real
family. Even though she didn’t remember them at all.
But how? How? He was sure that Nott suspected that he knew something. The way
he had looked at him, surely he had known that Scorpius had not just said the
first flower name that came to his mind when he had described her. Surely Nott
knew that he knew. He had been quite stupid to say her name out loud in his
face in that challengingly way. He should have kept silent. For Scarlet’s sake.
Now that he thought about it, what if Nott made him pay for his nerve? And even
though Scorpius was not afraid of what he might have done to him, he feared for
Scarlet… No, Lily, he had to start calling her Lily. She was not Scarlet Nott,
she was Lily Luna Potter. And what if the night before she had been punished
because of him? Scorpius would have never forgiven himself if—
“You are an idiot.”
Scorpius stopped in his tracks and raised his eyes to look into the dark ones
of Emeric Zabini. He snorted loudly and sneered, “Well, coming from the dimmest
Ravenclaw I know, it’s almost a compliment.”
Zabini didn’t bulge. “You just got de-Prefected,” he pointed out. “Rose is
fuming and I have no clue how to untwist her knickers this time. To add to
that, Albus almost had to give back his badge as well, since he saw you leaving
the castle last night and didn’t say a word, or try to stop you.”
Scorpius glanced at him and frowned. “Yeah, McGonagall mentioned something like
that too,” he replied, faking nonchalance, “why was that again?”
Zabini shook his head. “No idea,” he said, “but Rose is giving him a roasting.”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Why is she so unhappy that she doesn’t have to order
me around anymore?” he grunted. “She’ll be given another Prefect to boss about
before midday, someone who will cause much less trouble than me, and everybody
will live happily ever after.”
Zabini shook his head again. “Didn’t you hear? No new Prefects,” he replied,
“we are one short and need to reschedule all the patrols from now to June.”
Scorpius didn’t care. All he wanted was to go some place quiet and think about
a way to get Scarlet out of the brothel. Think hard. He wished he could talk to
Zabini about her. He was quite intelligent, after all, he called him dim just
to get on his nerves – something that Scorpius failed to do regularly since
Emeric was probably the most patient person he knew.
Weasley too, she was intelligent. She was definitely more intelligent than
himself, Potter and Zabini put together…
Scorpius brought a hand to his temple and suddenly realisation dawned on him.
Scarlet… Lily, she was… she was Weasley's cousin. Scorpius should have told
Rose Weasley about her. Or better, he should have told Potter, really… because
Potter was her brother… But then… what would Potter do? Call his father and get
Nott to kill Scarlet the moment a horde of Aurors barged into the brothel.
I'd rather see her dead than have her taken away from me, that was what Nott
had promised.
But Potter had something… he had something that Scorpius might need, something
that might help him in what he wanted to do… the Slytherin couldn't deny that
things would have been ten times easier if he owned an Invisibility Cloak just
like Albus Severus Potter did… 
Zabini snorted loudly and Scorpius blinked. “What?” he asked as he saw the
Ravenclaw's lips moving without hearing a word he said.
“Rose is right,” sighed Zabini, “you never ever listen.”
***
Scarlet could see Taffy’s feet as they scampered around the bedroom. She bit
her bottom lip and tried to hold her breath, sliding noiselessly towards the
darkest corner under the bed.
She didn’t want to take her bath.
Something was wrong these days. Her father had never been crueller than he was
now with her, and the girls just revelled in that. They had tried to drown
Scarlet two times in the past week, and Freya had told her to call her handsome
knight to save her, and they had all laughed at her.
And Scarlet’s eyes had filled with tears. Their words hurt more than their
nails on her skin, because she knew that her handsome knight could not save
her. Only in her dreams maybe, when he came and sat down with her and listened
to her as she read to him and he told her that he loved her. And in her dreams,
he took her outside and she could feel the sun on her skin and the wind in her
hair and hear the chirp of the birds that filled the air.
She closed her eyes and smiled at that. In her dreams, the sun and the wind had
felt almost real, as if she had known those feelings from somewhere. Of course,
she remembered reading about Viridina as she perched from the window of the
tower. They described her so well, the sun, the wind, the leaves of the trees
that fluttered in the meadows. So well, that in her dreams she could almost
feel the softness of grass under her naked feet.
She opened her eyes again and sucked in her breath. Taffy was staring at her,
eyes wide and a contrite expression over her face.
“Miss Scarlet needs to take her bath,” she squealed almost apologetically.
Scarlet felt the tears swell up in her eyes. “I don’t want to, Taffy,” she
murmured dejectedly.
The house-elf let out a whining noise and stretched her little, brown hand to
grasp her wrist. “Taffy will protect Miss Scarlet,” she promised, tugging at
her arm to get her out of there.
Scarlet looked at her with eyes as big as saucers and as shiny as stars, trying
to tell her, without words, that she really needed her protection. She slid
from under the bed and sat on the floor with her back against the wall, her
knees up to her chest and her bottom lip quivering slightly.
“Miss Scarlet needs not be afraid,” murmured Taffy, patting her arm lightly,
“Taffy will protect Miss Scarlet.”
Scarlet nodded softly as the coarse fingers of the elf brushed away her tears
before she could even shed them. She tried to smile at the creature and the elf
squealed in delight as she helped her up. Her little, brown hand tightened on
the girl’s wrist, though, as if Taffy was afraid that she would escape and hide
some other place. Scarlet would do just that, really, if she could find a place
where she was sure that neither Taffy nor her father would be able to find her.
But there was no place like that there. The elf always knew where to find her
and her father as well, she could not get away from them.
Taffy dragged her out of the room and into the corridor. The cold stone floor
dug cruelly into her naked feet, and she almost tripped over to keep up with
the creature's quick pace. The closer they got to the bathroom door the louder
the laughter and chatting of the girls became, and Scarlet's heart skipped a
beat at the thought of entering in there. Her mouth went dry and she felt fear
gripping her insides at what was yet again awaiting her.
But Taffy seemed to ignore her discomfort, and instead she just pushed the door
open and dragged her inside.
All the chatter and laughter died away the moment they walked through the door,
and the girls turned to look at Scarlet as if she were a kitten and they were a
pack of starving Crups.
“Well, well, well,” sniggered Lulu, looking at her from a small stool. Her
long, curly locks were all sleek and shiny with some potion and she looked like
she had stopped brushing her hair to turn towards Scarlet, because she held her
brush still tightly in her hand. “Someone is a bit late for her bath,” she said
with a sneer.
Scarlet’s hand searched Taffy’s, but the house-elf had left her side to go
prepare a tub and the girl whined pitifully as she looked for the creature and
hurried towards her.
“Now, now,” said Freya, walking towards Scarlet and grabbing her arm, her nails
digging into her skin. “I hardly think you want to take from us the pleasure of
preparing you for another night of hard work, am I right, Scarlet?”
Scarlet tried to wriggle her arm out of Freya’s fingers, but Ebony gripped her
shoulders and brought her fleshy lips to her ear. “No, you don’t want to do
that, do you?” she whispered, grasping the straps of her dress to drag it down
her body.
“No,” whined Scarlet, trying to grab the dress before they tore it from her.
“Don’t touch Miss Scarlet,” squealed Taffy, as she hurried to stand next to
them.
“Shut up, elf,” snarled Ebony, kicking the creature and sending her to the
floor with a squeal.
“No!” cried Scarlet, wriggling out of the hands of the two girls and kneeling
next to the elf. She tried to reach Taffy to help her to her feet again, but
Ebony grasped her hair and pulled her back, laughing.
“Bring her here,” said Lulu, parting her legs.
Ebony sniggered, pulling Scarlet to her feet before pushing her towards Lulu.
She landed on her hands and knees, only a few inches from Lulu, her legs and
palms throbbing as she came into contact with the hard tiles of the floor.
Lulu’s fingers enlaced into her long hair, she tilted Scarlet’s head up and
made her look into her eyes. “You know what,” she sneered, “I really want to
know why you are worth five hundred Galleons.” She traced Scarlet’s jaw with a
long finger until she reached her chin and grabbed it between her thumb and
forefinger. “Open wide,” she whispered to her with a smirk, “I want to feel
your tongue.”
Scarlet whimpered as Lulu pulled her head forward. She had to grab the girl’s
thighs to steady herself as the musky smell of her folds filled her nostrils.
Lulu moved on the stool until she was sitting on the edge and arched her back
as she pushed Scarlet’s face against her centre.
“Hmm,” she murmured as Scarlet’s nose bumped into her clit, “that’s it.”
Scarlet tried to push back against Lulu’s legs, her eyes half-closed as she
pressed her lips together and sobbed, she didn’t want to concede to the
disgusting request of the older woman. She didn’t want to open her mouth to
give her pleasure.
But Lulu tightened her fingers in her hair and tugged harshly. “I said,” she
hissed, “use your tongue!” She pushed herself against her face and ground, and
Scarlet could feel someone grasping her wrists and pulling them behind her back
as she was pushed forward.
Scarlet scrunched her eyes close and whimpered slightly as she finally obeyed
the girl and parted her lips to stick out her tongue.
Lulu tasted sour.
Lulu tasted like iron and lemon.
Lulu tasted of too many men, and the more Scarlet flattened her tongue against
her clit, the wetter she became. Soon her juices were flowing out of her slack
hole, and Scarlet felt her lips and chin being coated with the sticky, white
liquid while the musky smell of the woman made her nauseous.
“Hmm,” murmured Lulu, her thighs quivering near Scarlet’s head.
“Is she good?” asked Ebony somewhere close to Scarlet’s ear.
As a reply, Lulu’s fingers tightened in her hair and she moaned loudly.
Ebony laughed. “I want to try her, too, later,” she whispered, kissing
Scarlet’s temple.
“Ugly girls will not try Miss Scarlet!” squealed Taffy and Scarlet could hear
her little feet hurrying to her side, without being able to see her.
“Little, insolent monster!” snarled Freya, “I’m going to hex you for good this
time.”
Scarlet tried to scream and worm away, but her voice was muffled against Lulu’s
folds and the hands of the girls were like iron on her body. She heard Taffy
squeal impotently, and felt her heart skip a beat. She started to struggle more
forcefully, until both Ebony and Lulu were painfully digging their nails into
her flesh, drawing blood.
She cried and started to shake, feeling utterly defenceless in the hands of the
girls. She wanted to reach Taffy, she wanted to hug her and let her take them
both back into her room. She wanted to disappear from there, she wanted them to
let her go… she… she wanted to… she wanted to…
Suddenly, Ebony let her go and screamed, she took a step back and Scarlet heard
her falling to the floor with a loud thud. Lulu’s grip on her hair slackened
and Scarlet was able to push against her thighs and sit back on the warm tiles,
out of the woman’s grasp. Her cheeks were covered in tears she didn't know she
had shed and her chin was slick with Lulu’s juices as she turned and looked at
Ebony writhing on the floor.
Scarlet stared at the scene with her mouth wide open and her heart beating
furiously in her chest.
There was a towel around Ebony’s neck and it was squeezing and wrapping itself
tightly around her skin, like a snake with prey. Her dark lips were parted as
if she couldn’t breathe, and her eyes were bulging out of their orbs. She was
trying to loosen the towel, but every time she managed to move it a bit away
from her, it quickly went back to wrap itself tightly around her neck once
again.
“What are you doing?” screamed a plump girl with blond hair. “Stop it!”
“You bitch!” cried someone else.
“Let her go!”
Scarlet gaped with her eyes wide as the dark-skinned girl squirmed and squealed
while the other girls started to crowd around her.
Lulu grasped her hair again to turn her head to make her look at her. “What are
you doing?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes. “Let her go!”
“I’m not doing anything,” whined Scarlet, her hands going to her scalp where
Lulu had scratched her earlier.
“Stop it!” cried Freya, letting Taffy go and going to kneel next to Ebony to
try to wrestle the towel from her body.
“I don’t know how,” whimpered Scarlet as Lulu tugged at her hair.
Someone pointed her wand to the towel and cried, “Finite Incantatem.” And even
though the towel stopped squeezing for a few seconds it resumed its slithering
almost immediately.
“Scarlet!” snarled someone.
Scarlet started to cry. “I don’t know how…”
Then Taffy was at her side again, her brown face a mask of fear. “Miss Scarlet
has to stop it,” whispered the elf urgently, “Miss Scarlet is going to kill
Ebony.”
Lulu let her go and scrambled to her feet as Ebony’s struggles became more and
more feeble.
“Miss Scarlet…” whined Taffy, staring at Ebony through the legs of the girls.
Scarlet sobbed loudly and hid her face in her hands. Stop it, stop it, stop it,
she chanted in her head, hitting her forehead with her palms as if it could
help her bringing the magic to an end. She felt Taffy’s comforting hand on her
shoulder and turned to hug the elf.
And then, as suddenly as it had started, it finished.
Scarlet heard Ebony cough, and then the girls were helping her up and bringing
her water and patting her back and hugging her as if she was some kind of
heroine. The towel was now immobile on the floor and the girls were asking, all
worriedly, if everything was okay.
Scarlet closed her eyes and hugged Taffy more forcefully, trying to find
comfort in the arms of the little creature and wanting more than anything to
disappear from that place forever.
“We’re going to tell Daddy about this,” snarled Lulu.
“He’s going to lock you in the playroom for a week!” sneered Freya.
The girls laughed at that, even Ebony, and Scarlet whimpered and sobbed as
Taffy guided her towards the tub that she had filled for her.
The first thing she did was to wash her face of Lulu’s juices, and then she
started crying again.
She cried until Freya told her to stop unless she wanted to be hexed bloody.
And so she stopped and waited silently, until all the girls had left the
bathroom, before she started sobbing again.
***** Chapter XV *****
                                      ***
“I don’t want to go.”
Harry’s shoulders slumped forward as he looked at his wife. “Ginny…”
She shook her head firmly. “You know what I think,” she replied darkly.
Ron and Hermione exchanged a quick glance. Harry knew. They all knew what she
thought, all of them, not just the ones sitting in the living room of the
Burrow that afternoon. All, from James to Arthur to Bill to Lucy to Angelina to
Victoire…
“It’s just a walk in the fields,” replied Harry gently. “I promise I told James
and Teddy where we were going and…” He was going to say that if something
happened they would be informed straight away, but it had been more than six
years now and nothing had ever happened. “…and they know where to find us,” he
finished softly.
Ginny snorted. “In the fields? How?” She crossed her arms and looked towards
the fireplace, something flickered in her eyes. Hope? Expectation? Harry
couldn’t say.
“Ginny,” said Ron, leaning his elbows on his knees as he perched forward on the
couch where he was sitting next to Hermione, “it’s just an hour. A bit of fresh
air will do you good.”
Ginny didn’t even look at him. “There’s plenty of fresh air in here as well,”
she retorted, “I came all the way from London for some fresh, Devon air.”
“A walk,” continued Ron, smiling weakly at his sister, “just a walk. We could
go and have tea in that pub in Ottery, how about that? Like we used to do when
we were children.”
“No.”
Harry took a deep breath as he slid from the couch to kneel next to Ginny. He
tried to close his fingers around her hand, but she wouldn’t let him, she
wormed it away from his touch and tucked it under her arm. “Ginny, darling,
what’s wrong?”
She snorted and shook her head, but her resolute expression faltered a little.
“You know perfectly well what’s wrong,” she almost hissed.
Harry took a deep breath. “Is it… is it the memorial still?” he asked
dejectedly. “I told you we were not doing it. I told you it was just a stupid
idea… I’m sorry I even thought about it.” Oh, how much he regretted having
thought about that, now! The very mention of a memorial for Lily managed to
throw Ginny into the deepest pit of despair. And to be honest, Harry felt just
like her: he knew he wouldn’t have been able to sit through a memorial service
held for his daughter without crying his heart's content, but somehow he had
felt like it was a good way to make things better. In what way it would have
made things better though, he couldn’t remember anymore.
“It’s not just the memorial,” snapped Ginny. “It’s… it’s… everything.”
“Everything what?” asked Ron.
Ginny shook her head. “Everything,” she hissed, “you just… you don’t
understand…”
“Ginny—”
“I heard you, you know,” she said, looking at Ron, “the other day, you said
that Lily was such a lovely child.” Her eyes shone with restrained tears. “You
said was!”
Ron looked at her uncomfortably as he leant back against the couch and moved
involuntarily closer to Hermione. “I meant that she would not be a child
anymore,” he murmured, lowering his eyes, “I meant that now she would be a
teenager, like… like Hugo…”
Ginny stomped her foot on the floor. “You’re doing it again!” she cried. “She
is a teenager!”
Ron looked at Hermione as if to ask for her help. But Harry suspected that if
his sister-in-law had kept silent until that moment there was a perfectly good
reason for that. He also suspected that the explanation was that keeping their
mouths shut was the right thing to do there. But he just couldn’t keep silent
when Ginny looked so dejected once again.
“Ginny,” sighed Harry as he turned to look at her, “we don’t know what happened
to her…”
“You think she’s dead,” she cried, looking from Harry to Ron to Hermione. “You
all do!”
The silence that descended after Ginny’s accusation was heavier than an anvil
on their shoulders. Their silence said everything. They thought she was dead.
“We don’t know, Ginny,” murmured Ron after what felt like hours.
She looked at him, the back of her hand brushing away her tears almost
furiously. “I do,” she snapped, “I do.”
“You can’t know,” said Ron almost pitifully.
“I know!” she almost snarled at him. “I know, because she is my daughter!”
It was with great relief that Harry looked as Hermione stood up and went to
Ginny. She slid her arm under Ginny’s armpit and helped her up. “Let’s go,” she
said softly, “let’s have a cup of tea.”
Ginny looked at her with her brown eyes wide, before leaning against her. “You
know, Hermione, don’t you?” she whispered. “You know what I mean…”
Hermione nodded as she guided her towards the kitchen of the Burrow. “I do,”
she murmured.
Harry looked as they disappeared through the door, and finally he turned
towards his best-friend. Ron’s pale face sported a desperate expression as he
looked at Harry with eyes filled with pity. “I don’t know if she’s alive,
Harry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Harry closed his eyes and nodded. “I know.” And then he had to take a deep
breath to try to keep the tears at bay.
He didn’t succeed.
***
Scorpius waited for Potter.
He waited for him after Herbology.
The Slytherin was actually glad that Albus Potter knew Professor Longbottom
that well. And he was glad for the fact that the Gryffindor would always stay
behind to chat with him for a bit after their lessons, because now Scorpius was
presented with the perfect opportunity to talk to him alone, without anybody
overhearing them.
Still, sometimes it took them ages to just chatter about a bloody Mandrake or a
stupid Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Or whatever they blabbed about when they weren’t
talking about plants. How’s the family, how’s the inn, what’s for dinner
tonight. Whatever.
But Scorpius had to wait. He hadn’t had time to talk to Potter alone in the
past few days. First of all, he had been given a long and irritating roasting
by the Head Girl. The reprimand had gone on for hours, since she had chased him
tirelessly from class to class, until he finally had to go back to his Common
Room where she couldn’t reach him. Some of his fellow Slytherins had told him
that she was waiting for him outside the entrance – and that she was looking
particularly aggravated – but Scorpius decided to skip dinner that evening
rather than have to hear her scolding him over and over again.
Then, his parents had arrived, his mother had been red-faced for the whole time
that they had sat in the Headmistress office, while his father had looked much
paler than Scorpius could ever remember seeing him. They had barely glanced at
him; throughout Professor McGonagall’s speech they had kept their eyes on her,
nodding and agreeing with every word she said.
Another month of detention was simply the thing he deserved. They just hoped
that he understood. Even though now he was of age, that didn’t meant that he
could go and spend the night away from the school without telling his parents
or his professors.
Scorpius barely registered the words. He sat there, thinking about what was
coming once Professor McGonagall had finished her speech and once she had left
the room, wanting to let them talk to Scorpius in private. And when the door
closed behind her back, Scorpius gritted his teeth in anticipation.
His father had known straight away where he had been. What he had done – or
what he thought he had done – and with whom. He had asked him how he had
managed to get the money that time, but laughed at him when Scorpius replied
that he had stolen it. His mother hadn’t said anything at all. She had just
looked at him as if she wished she had never had children. He couldn’t help
thinking what she would say when he brought Scarlet home to hide her at the
Manor. Yes, because now, in his head, that was what was going to happen. To
hell with giving her back to her family. He would schedule another appointment
with her, he would go there and take her home with him.
How?
Well, as soon as Albus Severus Potter was done talking to Professor Longbottom,
he would know just that. Potter had something he needed. Something that he knew
would help him spirit Scarlet away.
Potter had the Cloak.
“Potter,” Scorpius called him when he saw that he was finally starting to
retrieve his books from the long, wooden table and preparing to leave. “Can I
talk to you?” He tried to keep his voice even, but couldn’t hide a slight
edginess that cut through his throat.
Potter looked at him for a long moment, his green eyes almost scrutinising his
face, before he returned his attention to his belongings. “The answer is I
don’t know,” he said nonchalantly.
Scorpius furrowed his brow as the Gryffindor walked past him and out of the
greenhouse. “You don’t know if I can talk to you?” he asked confused, but
following him.
“No,” replied Potter, not even looking at him now. “I don’t know why I didn’t
report you to Professor McGonagall.” He stopped and narrowed his eyes as he
finally turned his attention to him. “Isn’t that what you were going to ask
me?”
“Yes,” he replied, “no… I mean… not just that.”
Potter raised his chin. “Then what is it?”
“I…” Scorpius looked around himself, Professor Longbottom was curiously looking
at them from the door of Greenhouse number two, while on the other side of the
meadow, the Hufflepuff team seemed to be on its way to the Quidditch pitch for
practise. “Can I talk to you in private?”
Potter rolled his eyes. “There’s nobody here, Malfoy.”
Scorpius bit his bottom lip. He was pretty sure that Potter’s initial reaction
would have been of scorn. He surely would have laughed at him or yelled that he
was mental. He couldn’t let him do that in front of a group of nosy
Hufflepuffs, or an even nosier professor. “Right,” he grumbled, “let’s just…
walk that way, then.”
He started walking towards the longest and least travelled path that brought
one back to the castle. At least, if Potter wanted to scream or laugh at him,
nobody would have heard him and wondered why.
“Malfoy,” said Potter, walking closely behind him, “just ask me what you have
to ask me, I need to finish my essay for D.A.D.A. for tomorrow.”
Scorpius rolled his eyes and turned to face him. He knew he was going to
snigger at him. He just knew it. Nonetheless, he took a deep breath and said,
“I need you to lend me your cloak.”
It took Potter slightly longer than Scorpius had anticipated. He first looked
at him as if he was about to laugh, but instead he only snorted lightly, then
he narrowed his eyes, maybe waiting for him to say that he was joking, and when
that didn’t happen he finally gaped at him as if he was crazy. “Are you having
me on?” he finally asked, sounding vaguely amused.
Scorpius looked at him gravely and shook his head. “No.”
In the end, Potter did laugh out loud and Scorpius glowered at the fact that
those Hufflepuffs could probably hear him down at the Quidditch pitch. “I’m
serious,” he grunted.
“Oh,” snorted Potter, “you are serious, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “Then,
by all means, let me go and fetch it for you, Malfoy! What do you need it for,
if I may ask? Oh, wait, is it to sneak off of the castle at night? Of course,
it is, isn’t it? Well, do you need anything else? Maybe the Marauder’s Map, so
that you can dodge my cousin on your way out?”
Scorpius darkened. “I don’t need a cloak to sneak out of the school,” he
replied haughtily.
“No, apparently, not,” snorted Potter. “Then what do you need it for?”
Scorpius looked away. Why did he have to be that curious? Couldn’t he just give
him the bloody cloak? He would have returned it, what did Potter think? Bloody
hell! Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was no thief! Of course, he was also not the
fairest person when it came to Quidditch or other silly matters, but this was
no silly matter either. This was serious. This was about a human being. This
was about a beautiful girl being kept prisoner by an evil wizard… just like
Viridina in the tower. Yes, suddenly, Scorpius understood why Scarlet liked
Viridina that much.
Scorpius bit his bottom lip as he stared at the Forbidden Forest. Could he tell
him? Maybe he should have… she was his sister after all… but then he would have
hexed him and called his father before Scorpius even managed to get to the end
of his confession and then… Then nobody would save Scarlet at all.
No, not Scarlet. Lily.
“I can’t tell you,” he replied sourly. He looked back at him, gritting his
teeth. “But I swear that I will give it back and that… I… I need it for
something good…”
Potter narrowed his eyes. “Something good like what?”
“I can’t tell you,” repeated Scorpius, “I just need it…” He set his jaw, he was
about to add a ‘please’ and that was definitely not good, Malfoys didn’t plead.
Had he involuntarily begged him for the cloak, though, he would have told
himself that it was all for Scarlet. Lily.
“You are out of your mind,” Potter let him know, smiling cheerfully and finally
walking away.
“Potter…” Scorpius called after him. “I… I need it…”
The dark haired boy didn’t even turn. “Yeah, in your dreams, Malfoy.” Then he
stopped and finally turned to look at him. “You could at least tell me why you
need it, you know,” he replied, “I am quite curious to know what’s wrong with
you, really.” He walked away then, leaving Scorpius there to look at him as he
became smaller and smaller and finally turned behind a wall of the castle and
disappeared from his sight.
Scorpius let out a frustrated growl and kicked a rock down the slope.
He needed to find a way to that cloak; he needed it to sneak into Nott & Goyle
and steal Nott’s treasure.
He needed it to get Lily out of there.
***
There was a knock on the door, a mighty knock that had the power to shake the
wood off its hinges and make Nott roll his eyes.
“Come in, Goyle,” he said gruffly, not looking up from the contract he was
revising.
Goyle opened the door and walked inside with graceless steps. “Nott,” he
grunted, “the girls say Scarlet is not available.”
Nott rolled his eyes again and smirked. “The girls are surprisingly telling the
truth, Goyle,” he snorted. He looked at him and cocked his head. “The Healer,
that you just found for us, is with her right at this very moment.”
Goyle pressed his lips together, almost pouting. “A routine visit?” he asked
casually. “Then can I see her?”
“It’s not a routine visit,” replied Nott. “She needed… some Healing.”
Goyle rolled his eyes as he collapsed heavily on a chair. “What happened?” he
asked visibly frustrated to be there and not have access to his favourite girl.
As he looked at him attentively, Nott leant back on his chair, his fingers
tapping his chin lightly. “She has been in the playroom for four days,” he
replied with a soft smirk on his lips.
Goyle took a deep breath and snorted. “What did she do?”
“She tried to kill Ebony.”
Goyle rolled his eyes. “Seriously,” he replied hotly, “what did she do?”
“Seriously, she tried to kill Ebony.”
Goyle’s face painted with surprise first and then incredulity. “What?” he
asked, his jaw dropping. “She… what? On… on purpose?”
“Oh Merlin,” smirked Nott. “Oh no! She was scared out of her wits. She was
soaking my trousers with her tears while the girls were telling me what had
happened. Kept saying she didn’t do it intentionally. Didn’t even know what she
was doing, apparently…”
“What happened?” asked Goyle, his face now finally worried. “Did she…”
Nott nodded. “She did indeed,” he replied. “Magic. Accidental, Wandless magic.”
He closed the contract in front of him and corked the ink bottle. “That’s why
she was in the playroom, really. I couldn’t care less about Ebony, but I
certainly can’t tolerate Scarlet’s behaviour.”
“Well, what happened?” asked Goyle impatiently.
Nott glared at him before replying, “Apparently the girls were having a bit of
fun, when out of the blue, she Summoned a towel and tried to strangle Ebony,”
he replied curtly.
Goyle rolled his eyes. “Had those nitwits tried the Counter Spell,” he asked,
and Nott was surprised to hear something intelligent coming from him.
“Yes,” he replied slowly, “they said it didn’t work.”
“Why didn’t they Stun Scarlet, then?” he asked impatiently.
“Because they are not allowed,” thundered Nott, “they can’t use spells or
anything that leaves marks on her.” He darkened. They had left marks on her,
Ebony and Lulu’s nails had been well imprinted on her skin until the Healer had
healed the cuts.
Goyle’s lips curled into a smirk. “Only you,” he pointed out.
“Only me,” he replied, nodding. He darkened even more and started to put away
the contract, the ink, and the quill with jerky movements.
“You look tense, Nott,” said Goyle.
“And you look almost intelligent today, Goyle,” he grunted, before shaking his
head and finally admitting, “I’m slightly concerned.”
“About Scarlet?”
Nott nodded. “First the Malfoy boy, and now this,” he said, “I’m afraid my dear
Scarlet is trying to slip away from me.”
Goyle snorted at that. “A hard task for someone who is kept under more strict
surveillance than a prisoner in Azkaban.”
Nott looked at him for a long moment, considering his words carefully. Goyle
was right after all. Weirdly enough, he was right. Nott didn’t know what he was
worried about. Scarlet was his and only his, she was in his power and nobody,
not the young son of his former schoolmate nor the powerful magic she had
inherited from her parents, would ever take her away from him.
Nott smirked.
Yes.
Scarlet was not going anywhere.
***
Scorpius stared at the curtains around his bed almost with hatred. Oh! How he
wished he could cut them, fashion them into a cloak and use it to sneak Scarlet
out of the brothel.
But he couldn’t.
It would just be a cloak, everybody would see her leaving, and they would be
stopped.
No.
There was nothing.
Nothing. Nothing he could use. Nothing he could do. Nothing he could plan.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Except for the Invisibility Cloak.
Except for Albus Severus Potter’s Invisibility Cloak.
He needed that cloak.
Scorpius had thought about bribing a Gryffindor into telling him the password
to their Common Room. But then he didn’t have a clue how to go get the Cloak
from Potter’s trunk – or from wherever he kept it, honestly, he didn’t even
know that piece of information – without being seen and sent to the
Headmistress once again.
He had thought about ambushing Potter during one of his patrols, but truth was
that the Gryffindor almost never had his Cloak with him. He used it very
rarely, and he couldn’t see him using it any time soon. Especially not now that
Scorpius had told him about the fact that he needed it.
And then, once again, Scorpius had thought about telling Potter the reason why
he needed that Cloak. But then, he had wondered what would happen if the
Gryffindor called the Aurors… he would have put Lily’s life in danger without
even knowing it. Scorpius had even contemplated the possibility of casting a
minuscule Memory Charm on the Gryffindor Prefect to prevent him from doing
something so reckless…
In the end, Scorpius had come to the conclusion that telling Potter was the
best chance – if not the only one – he had to save Lily’s life.
***** Chapter XVI *****
                                      ***
James stopped in front of Lily’s door.
The shin guards he had just retrieved from his old room were pushed tight under
his armpit. He was going to play Quidditch with his fellow Auror trainees that
upcoming Saturday. He hadn’t played in a while, but hopefully his skills as a
Chaser had not suddenly vanished ever since the Gryffindor team had won the
Quidditch House Cup the past May; because that was the last time he had played,
almost nine months before.
Right at that moment though, Quidditch was the last thing on his mind.
There had been a loud thump, coming from Lily’s room. A noise of something
falling to the floor. Nothing that seemed to have broken, really, but something
had fallen and he felt the urge to put it back right before his mother noticed.
He took a step towards the door and placed his hand on the cold knob.
He hadn’t entered Lily’s room in six years. Ever since she had disappeared, and
he didn’t think that Albus or Teddy had either. Nor his father.
He knew that his mother went in there every day, though. She tidied up –he
didn’t know what –, she changed the sheets, she cleaned… she prepared the room
for her daughter’s return.
Nobody had the heart to tell her to stop.
James felt his heart in his throat as he pushed the door open.
Lily’s room was dark in the light of the sunset, but through the pale orange
rays of the last sun he could see her toys neatly piled in a chest in a corner
and her toy broomstick against the wall. Near it, a wood bookend in the shape
of a cat had fallen to the floor and her books had toppled over on her shelf.
He knelt to pick it up and pushed the volumes back up and together, securing
them with the bookend once again. He swallowed and felt a shiver creeping down
his spine. The curtains around her bed fluttered slightly as a breeze came from
her half-opened window. 
It was cold in there.
He crossed the room quickly to push down the single hung window that his mother
had forgotten to close and lock it in place. He looked out of the window for a
moment, staring at the first, shy leaves trying to sprout from the bare
branches of the trees in the garden of Grimmauld Place. He had helped Lily up
one of lowest branches once, and his mother had shrieked and paled as she eased
her down with her wand, but Lily had just giggled for the whole afternoon and
thanked him and hugged him.
His mother had given him a roasting, but it had been worth it.
He shook his head to send the memories away and turned towards the door.
“James! What are you doing in my room? Get out! I’m going to call Mum if you
don’t get out now.”
James’ breath caught in his throat as a pale as ghost, nine-year-old Lily
stared at him from her desk, and then, in the blink of an eye, she disappeared
before he could even register that she had been there in the first place.
But she hadn’t been there.
He brought the heel of his hand to his forehead and pushed slightly against his
skull. He was an Auror, for crying out loud, he shouldn’t have been that
impressionable!
Lily was not there.
Lily hadn’t been there for the past six years.
Lily was probably never going to be there ever again.
***
Scorpius was waiting. Again.
His latest two-month-detention – somehow, from a day to the other, the time of
his punishment had just doubled, he suspected his parents were involved in that
decision – was not to be carried out in the same way as the first one.
Professor McGonagall had been suggested by his father – once he had understood
that Scorpius wasn’t having a laugh when he had told him that he had stolen the
money – that he was sent to the Forbidden Forest or to help some Professor
doing something useful, and not put back into the Trophy Room where he would
have had access to more valuables.
It didn’t matter.
He would find a way to the money once again. To another five hundred Galleons.
All he needed now was Albus Severus Potter and his cloak. Because that was what
he had been repeating to himself over and over again: the cloak was the only
way to her. To Scarlet. To Lily. To whoever she was.
So Scorpius was waiting.
He was waiting outside the Trophy Room, because he needed to show Potter the
picture in case he refused to help him. He needed him to know, he needed him to
see. Potter wouldn’t refuse him if he knew what Scorpius knew.
Scorpius was aware that if Albus Potter was anything like his father, he would
have looked at him horrified at the idea that he had been to a brothel to see a
prostitute. He would have thought him a disgusting human being. And even though
Scorpius had never touched Scarlet in that way, he couldn’t have helped
agreeing with him.
But was that really important? After all, Scorpius didn’t care what Potter
thought about him. He had never cared, so why would he start now? Well, of
course, now he was Lily’s brother… And Scorpius had feelings for Lily and… it
was a weird sensation, but he wanted her brother at least not to find him
disgusting… They didn’t need to be suddenly friends, but it would have been
nice if he didn’t look revolted at him …
But if he had to tell Potter what he knew and what he had done and where he had
been, to convince him to help him, he would do just that. To hell with keeping
up appearances! And Potter would help him. And if not, Scorpius had his wand…
he had spent days reading about Memory Charms. He was going to do it…
But somehow, he was sure that the Gryffindor would help him… And then… Potter
would take Lily home. Her home. Yes. The idea to have her at the Manor and hide
her for the rest of her life was stupid. He understood that now. That was not
the life he wanted for her. She needed to be free, not to be confined again in
yet another cold place where people were unable to love.
Scorpius sighed.
He knew that everything would have been much easier if he just wrote to the
Ministry. But he couldn’t alert the Aurors to go and get her. Nott… he was…
evil and crazy. What if he used Lily as a shield to flee from that place while
it was surrounded by Aurors? Or what if he really killed her as he had promised
because he didn’t want Potter’s father to have her back?
No, Scorpius had to act alone. With Potter’s help in the form of his
Invisibility Cloak. If Potter believed him enough to lend him his cloak, of
course.
But surely… His father said that Potter’s father had that thing… he had called
it a ‘saving thing’, he couldn’t stay away from helping people, surely Albus
Potter was just like him… Potter was going to believe him… he was going to help
him…
Scorpius swallowed. Potter was probably going to tag along…
Voices echoed through the corridor and snapped Scorpius out of his musings. He
held his breath and listened. It looked like Hugo Weasley and Jenny Wood had
taken over the nine o’clock patrol, and Scorpius managed to slip through the
ajar door of the Trophy Room and hide in the darkness behind one of the
cupboards as soon as he heard the voices of the two fifth years getting near.
For a moment, he wondered who Potter had been paired up with, then he
remembered that Zabini had told him that they hadn’t gotten a new seventh year
Prefect for Slytherin. He hoped the son of the Saviour of the World had not
been paired up with anybody at all.
And as he hid in the shadows, until Weasley and Wood walked past, Scorpius
waited.
***
“Al.”
Albus rolled his eyes. Was it bad that sometimes he agreed with Scorpius Malfoy
about his cousin?
“Al.”
“I heard you the first time, Rose,” he said flatly, closing the book in his
lap.
“You didn’t reply,” she pointed out, hands on her hips. “Do you want me to come
with you?”
“No,” he said calmly, “I only have to walk around the school and make sure that
nobody is out of bed, I hardly think I need your assistance, but thank you for
asking.”
She nodded. “You should go now, you know,” she pointed out again, “actually,
you should have gone three minutes ago.”
“Rose,” he said, looking at her intently, “you are a control freak, you know,
Malfoy is actually right sometimes…”
“Don’t mention that name in front of me!” she almost screeched.
Albus rolled his eyes as he stood up. “I’m going to patrol,” he announced
dryly, walking towards the Portrait Hole.
“Good, and remember that if you—”
Luckily, the Portrait of the Fat Lady swung close and Rose’s voice was
swallowed by the silence of the corridor. Albus took a deep breath and started
to walk. He had patrolled alone for the past few days and he had never met
anybody. It was just a walk, really, that was what he had told himself. He
almost welcomed it when Rose was nagging him as annoyingly as that night. He
loved Rose dearly, like a sister – like he had loved Lily. No, like he loved
Lily – but sometimes she was really good at getting on his nerves.
He shook his head and walked a bit more briskly, trying to make his patrol the
shortest possible. He still had to practise some spells for Charms and it was
late already, and he didn’t want to go to bed too late, when he did he always
overslept the following morning. He didn’t know how Rose did it, but she was
always the last one to go to bed, and the first one up in the morning. In the
whole school, he suspected. Maybe only Zabini was up as early as she was, but
for different reasons. 
Well, Rose was definitely her mother’s daughter from what his father had told
him about Aunt Hermione’s days as a Prefect.
Albus raised his wand and muttered, “Lumos,” as he turned into a particularly
dark corridor. He walked past the snoring portraits of some grumpy-looking
wizards and ignored a hiss coming from Mrs Norris who was crouching in a
corner. “I’m a Prefect, you stupid cat,” he hissed back, walking past her.
He kept strolling through the castle and he didn’t know for how long he had
done just that when he turned a sharp corner, and stopped in his tracks as he
found himself gaping at the pale figure of Rose’s nemesis.
Scorpius Malfoy.
The seventh year, de-Prefected Slytherin was staring back at him with a severe
frown creasing his forehead and his lips pressed together in a thin line.
“Potter,” he said gravely.
“Bloody hell,” Albus muttered in reply, walking quickly to get to where the
blond boy was standing. “What the hell are you doing out of bed at this time,
Malfoy?” He nodded towards his chest and added, “Have you noticed that you are
not a Prefect anymore?”
“I need to talk to you,” he said firmly.
Albus rolled his eyes. “Again?” he groaned.
“Yes,” he replied, “I need your cloak.”
Albus snorted. “Malfoy,” he said patiently, “we are not friends. Can you
remember that?”
Malfoy nodded and suddenly he looked much less resolute than before. “I’ll tell
you why I need it,” he whispered, his expression somehow seemed almost pained,
as if he didn’t want to tell him at all, but felt like he had no choice. 
Albus looked at him in disbelief. Did he really think that he would have given
him his cloak? Even if he told him for what mischief he needed it? Malfoy must
have been out of his freaking mind. “I don’t even care anymore,” replied Albus
nonchalantly, “just go back to the Slytherin Common Room before I start taking
away points.” He walked past him, shaking his head emphatically and he could
almost hear him groan in reply.
“It’s for a girl, Potter,” Malfoy called after him, his voice uneasy.
Albus stopped and turned to look at him as if he were crazy. “Take her to Madam
Puddifoot’s, then, you nitwit,” he pointed out, before turning again.
“I can’t,” he murmured. “Potter… please…”
Albus stopped again, eyes wide as he stared in front of him into the darkness
of the corridor. Did Malfoy just… plead? With him? Did Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy
just plead with him, Albus Severus Potter? What was wrong? What was wrong with
Malfoy? Albus turned to look at him and saw that the Slytherin boy was gnawing
on his bottom lip and staring back at him, his eyes seemed truly worried now.
“What…” Albus’ words died in his throat as they heard Filch’s raspy voice
talking to his stupid cat. If Albus was a Prefect and could be there, Malfoy
certainly couldn’t. He hurried towards the first door and pushed it open. “Get
in, hurry,” he whispered harshly to Malfoy.
He walked inside and heard the blond boy following him, the door closed softly
at their backs and as Albus lit his wand again he saw that they were standing
in the Trophy Room. Well, Malfoy must have liked that place a lot if he was
still hanging around it even now that his detention had changed. The Forbidden
Forest, wasn’t it? But he hadn’t started, yet, had he? Otherwise he wouldn’t be
there…
“Okay,” whispered Albus, turning to light up Malfoy’s face with his wand, “why
can’t you take her to Madam Puddifoot’s?” He didn’t like that place at all, but
that was where all the boys took their girlfriends for their first date ever
since… Well, his father had taken his girlfriend there back in the days. Not
his mother, no – their first date must have been at the Quidditch pitch or
something like that – but that Cho Chang woman Uncle Ron had told him about.
Malfoy gaped at him as if he was going to be sick any moment now and Albus
couldn’t really imagine why. It was just a question and he had started it, and
even if the two of them never talked about girls – or about anything at all,
really – he had started it. Honestly! Albus stared as Malfoy swallowed noisily
and finally replied, “She’s a prostitute.”
Albus’ lips parted in surprise, but he recovered quickly and soon he pressed
them back together into a thin, severe line. That was too absurd to be real.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked coldly. The Slytherin was surely having him on.
Malfoy shook his head, looking positively green now. “No,” he whispered weakly.
Albus swallowed. That was… unexpected, even for Malfoy. “Are you out of your
sodding mind?” he hissed. “Are you asking me for my father’s cloak to sneak out
of the school and see a prostitute?” Something hit him right then. “Is that
where you’ve been going all these nights? To see a whore? And to think that I
didn’t report you!” He looked at him aghast. “You are absolutely disgusting,
Malfoy.” He shook his head and walked past him and towards the door, unable to
stand his presence a second longer.
Malfoy’s hand was quick to clutch his wrist though. “No,” he said, his voice
tight, “you don’t understand, Potter…”
Albus jerked his arm away from him. “Oh, I think I do,” he snapped, “you pay to
screw a woman. You disgust me.”
“I’ve never even touched her,” he whispered urgently, “I swear.”
Albus laughed at him. “Yes, right,” he replied, “you talk to her, I imagine. Or
do you play Wizard’s Chess with her?”
Malfoy lowered his eyes, his teeth imprinting dents in his lips. “I talk to
her,” he admitted, “I… I…” He looked up again, his eyes seemed to silently
implore him. “Potter, I need your cloak.”
“I was given the understanding that you could make your way to her without the
aid of my cloak,” snapped Albus, feeling revolted at the very thought that he
was asking for his father’s cloak to be used for such a purpose.
“You don’t understand,” he said urgently, “I need it for her…” He took a deep
breath and added quickly, “She’s held captive in a brothel, Potter.”
Albus crossed his arms. “Now I know you’ve lost your marbles,” he snorted.
“There are no brothels in England, my father closed them all.”
Malfoy shook his head frantically. “There’s one,” he whispered, “it’s a secret.
It’s in London… she… I need your cloak to take her out of there.”
Albus looked at him, unable to move, speak or breath. He was talking nonsense.
There were no brothels. His father had closed them all. The summer before he
started at Hogwarts. The summer before Lily was taken. He remembered it like it
was the day before. A huge operation, his father had been interviewed so many
times. His face had been on the Prophet every single day.
“You… you are talking nonsense,” he said to Malfoy, shaking his head furiously.
“Nonsense…”
“I’m not,” Malfoy almost snapped, “I can tell you everything. She’s fifteen,
she’s… she’s been there for six years, she’s been tortured, forced to work as a
prostitute, to sell her body… she’s… she’s the most…”
“The most?” asked Albus, his voice a murmur. He felt dazed by that load of
information about this mysterious girl. But Malfoy was talking rubbish. He was
passionately talking nonsense about something that could not have been.
“She’s beautiful,” whispered Malfoy, lowering his eyes and blushing slightly.
Albus looked at him with his eyes wide. What was he saying? That was
ridiculous. That was crazy. That was not possible. There were no brothels. And
an underage prostitute, if there was someone like her he had to alert the
Ministry, not telling him. “You’re out of your mind.”
“There’s another thing,” said Malfoy urgently, he spun on his heels and went
towards a cupboard, he opened it hastily and took out the same frame that he
had been looking at every single night that Albus had come to pick him up for
patrol. He turned it towards him and held it in front of his eyes. “She…” he
whispered, swallowing and pointing to a certain player, “she looks like this.”
Albus felt his rage boil in his veins. He gritted his teeth and brought his
hands to Malfoy’s neck, pushing him back with all his force against the wall
behind him. “What the hell is your problem, Malfoy?” he almost yelled, uncaring
about Filch or his damn cat. “I told you that’s my mother.”
To his surprise Malfoy didn’t try to fight him back. He nodded frantically. “I
know,” he murmured throatily.
Albus gritted his teeth. “So what are you saying?” he snapped, dunking his
fingers in his skin. “That there’s a prostitute who looks like my mother?”
Malfoy nodded and Albus looked at him in horror. “She looks exactly like her,”
he gasped as Albus involuntarily squeezed his fingers with rage around his
throat. “Think about it, Potter, she is fifteen… she’s been there for six
years…”
Albus felt his breathing increasing. What was he saying? She looked like his
mother, she was fifteen, six years… no, that was not… that couldn’t be…
He let him go and stepped back while Malfoy brought his hands to his neck,
coughing slightly.
Albus shook his head, his lips parted, his eyes wide as he tried to make sense
of those words. “No…” he said, “what are you saying?” He looked at him and
gritted his teeth. “What the hell are you saying, Malfoy?” he yelled.
Malfoy swallowed and nodded. “I think she’s your sister.”
For a moment, Albus felt as if all the air had been knocked out of his lungs.
“No,” he gasped, shaking his head. “They’ve been looking for her everywhere…
no… she’s… no…”
Malfoy nodded again. “She is your sister,” he whispered, “they took away her
memory, and kept her as a prisoner for six years, but… it’s her…”
“How do you know? How can you be sure?” he almost whined. After all, Scorpius
hadn’t known Lily. He didn’t know what she had looked like, he didn’t know
anything about her.
“I know,” said Malfoy firmly, “everything… everything fits. Your father closed
Nott’s whorehouses and he took her away as… I think she was… something like his
personal revenge. He had taken away her memory, she remembers only from when
she was nine years old. From September.” He lowered his eyes on the picture and
added, “She looks so much like your mother, but she is so different… She is
so…” He shook his head. “I can’t even describe her.”
Albus felt his stomach churn. “Lily…” he breathed. A prostitute. A prisoner. In
a brothel. No… that… didn’t make… didn’t make sense… it… It didn’t… it did… it
did make sense… Why they’d never found her… Why she had disappeared without
trace… Why nobody knew anything… why… why…
Malfoy nodded. “They call her Scarlet now,” he said softly.
Albus looked at him as if he saw him for the first time. “We need… we need to
alert the Aurors,” he said, walking towards the door as if in a daze, “we need
to Floo my father…”
“No!” Malfoy almost screamed. “No, Potter, please…”
Albus looked at him as if he were out of his mind.
“We need to take her out of there first,” he murmured, “I… I need your cloak… I
need to take her out of there…” He swallowed. “If Nott knows that Aurors are
coming, he will… He will kill her… he told me…”
Kill her, the words echoed in Albus’ head and sunk painfully in his brain.
“I need your cloak, Potter, please…”
Albus looked at him for a long moment, too dazed to reply.
Bloody hell.
“Yes,” he finally said, nodding forcefully, “okay. You can take my cloak.”
Malfoy seemed to let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Potter, I…
thank—”
“But I’m coming with you.”
The Slytherin’s grateful face fell, and now he looked positively green once
again, but it seemed to last only for a spare second before he recovered; as if
Malfoy had somehow expected Albus to propose just that. He furrowed his brow
and stretched his hand towards him. “Deal,” he murmured.
Albus shook it without even noticing. “Deal,” he murmured back, before gritting
his teeth. “Now, tell me everything.”
Malfoy looked seriously into his eyes and nodded.
And he told him everything.
And Albus could feel a little bit of his heart being carved out of his chest
with every one of Malfoy's words.
***** Chapter XVII *****
                                      ***
“Five hundred Galleons?” growled Potter. “That’s mental.”
“That’s what she’s worth,” replied Scorpius darkly. “One hour, for five hundred
Galleons.”
Potter seemed to pale, just like he did every other time Scorpius told him
something about Scarlet. But the Slytherin had to give credit to the
Gryffindor, he was strong. In fact, Potter was stronger than he had expected
him to be. Especially considering the situation.
Potter swallowed and his face darkened. “And you’ve been there four times?” he
asked, his voice thick. “Are you really that rich?”
Scorpius smirked in reply. “Of course I am,” he replied casually, “but I had to
steal some stuff from the Trophy Room to cover that sum of money last time I
went to her.” He picked up a big rock from the ground and threw it in the lake.
“My father doesn’t want me to go there anymore,” he added, before Potter could
comment on the theft.
“Does he know…”
Scorpius shook his head. “He thinks I go back to… you know,” he murmured,
flushing. Luckily, he didn’t have to spell it out for Potter because the
Gryffindor nodded in understanding. “My father doesn’t know who she really is.”
“Damn it, Malfoy,” growled Potter hotly, “we need to find the money.” He picked
up a rock as well and threw it into the water with a grunt of frustration.
“Quickly.”
Scorpius nodded, staring in front of himself while the surface of the lake
wavered gently as the Giant Squid swam near the shore, probably disturbed by
the stones they sent its way. Its tentacles came up lazily and rolled over the
water in gentle dance like movements.
“Malfoy,” whispered Potter all of a sudden, “how is she?”
Scorpius turned to look at him, but Potter was stubbornly staring in front of
him.
“I mean… just… I don’t even know…” he said softly, shaking his head.
Scorpius swallowed as he looked away. He had told him that he couldn’t describe
her. It was true. Potter was her brother, he couldn’t tell him how much he
wanted to kiss her or to wrap his arms around her, or how beautiful and perfect
she was. He certainly couldn’t tell him that he had seen her naked, even if it
had been only for a fistful of seconds. But maybe he could tell him something
else… “She’s sweet,” he finally murmured, “and… I don’t know, Potter, she’s
just… she’s a bit like a child…” It was true; and now that he thought about
that, he felt even more disgusted at the thought that someone as gentle and
child-like as her was used for pleasuring sick, old men. “She likes to read,”
he added, trying to smile a little, “a lot. She likes… she likes a book about
Viridina the witch, she… she read it twenty-four times and—what?”
Scorpius had turned to look at Potter,and just then noticed that he was gaping
back at him.
“You…” he murmured. “You were buying a book about that witch… Rose told me.”
Scorpius flushed and looked away. “I know,” he said darkly, “it was for her.”
He gripped a spare blade of grass and tore it with force. “I couldn’t give it
to her,” he murmured, “I gave her my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and
Nott burnt it.”
Potter looked away, and Scorpius could almost hear his teeth gritting with
rage. “You’ll have to testify, you know,” he said, his voice dry and filled
with anger, “once we manage to get her out of there.”
Scorpius nodded curtly.
He didn’t want to do it.
He wanted to send Nott to rot in Azkaban, of that he was sure, but he was also
sure that they didn’t need his testimony to do it. And he didn’t want to give
it. His name was in their registry. He was, on paper at least, guilty of
sleeping with a minor and encouraging prostitution. The only way out of it was
for Scarlet to tell them that they had never had sex. But what if they asked
her and she replied that they had, just because he was her handsome knight and
that was what Viridina and her handsome knight did in the book?
“Can we go through the plan?” asked Potter nervously, snapping him out of his
thoughts. “Just one last time.”
Scorpius sighed. “We book an appointment,” he said, “we Apparate to London, I
walk in there, with you under the cloak. We wait for her, and then we wait
until the hour is almost over to take her out of there, under the cloak with
you.” He swallowed and added, “Then we go to the Ministry straight away.”
Potter nodded. “It seems so easy,” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” replied Scorpius quietly. His heart was already racing in his
chest at the thought that he would have to look exceptionally calm while they
smuggled Scarlet out of the brothel under the Invisibility Cloak. “Have you
checked that the cloak is long enough for two people?”
He nodded. “You said she’s this tall,” he told him, touching his own shoulder.
“That’s a bit less than Rose, I’ve tried it with her last night, Hugo couldn’t
see anything.”
“You didn’t tell them, did you?” asked Scorpius alarmed. “I told you not to
tell anybody.”
“I didn’t, Malfoy,” replied Potter snappishly. “Calm down. I told them that I
wanted to sneak off to the Astronomy Tower with Sarah Peterson, and needed to
see if Filch could see us at all. Rose was fuming, but I told her that at least
I haven’t been de-Prefected like someone else’s…”
Scorpius looked away, darkening. “Sarah Peterson is ugly,” he replied
haughtily, “you should have said… I don’t know, Lydia McKinnon.”
Potter shook his head as he threw another rock into the lake. “Are we really
arguing over this?” he asked flatly. “We need to find a way to get five hundred
Galleons.”
“Isn’t your family kind of wealthy too, Potter?” he asked nonchalantly. He was
pretty sure that the Weasleys weren’t particularly rich, but the Potters had
been fabled to have a good-size house and a lot of money at Gringotts. His
father was Head Auror, after all, and his mother was a former Quidditch star.
They were famous, for crying out loud!
“Yes,” replied Potter flatly, “and I was actually just wondering if, when I
write my parents, I should open the letter with the fact that we need the money
for a brothel. Or if that went at the end, right before I asked them how
Grandma was doing…”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Well, lie to them,” he snapped, “do you know how to
lie? Just tell them that you need the money… I don’t know, because you want to
buy something expensive for yourself, I do it all the time. Or because… you
want to open a shop in Hogsmeade, or you want to invest it somewhere… or…”
“Blimey!” muttered Potter, turning to look at him. “A shop in Hogsmeade!”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “It was just an idea. You think of something if you
are so—”
“No!” he cut him off. “I meant, a shop in Hogsmeade! Zonko’s! My uncle!”
Scorpius furrowed his brow. “Do I have to put the words together and make a
sentence?” he asked confused.
Potter didn’t even look at him as he stood up and started pacing nervously near
the shore of the lake. “We can ask him,” he said, “he is rich. No, not my
uncle… Fred! We need to ask Fred! Fred is managing the branch of the shop in
Hogsmeade… We need to tell him… Tell him… tell him that we need the money, Fred
will not refuse. Fred…” He turned to look at Scorpius, and set his jaw. “We
need to tell him about Lily,” he told him dryly.
Scorpius shook his head furiously. “No!” he snapped, standing up as well. “No!
Potter! I told you, that’s… no! It’s a classified mission. There! You want to
be an Auror, this is your first secret mission, and you have to keep your mouth
shut.” He darkened and looked back at the lake. “Maybe we can take the money
without telling him,” he suggested, “if we manage to get Nott imprisoned, your
uncle will get it back at some point.” He took a deep breath. “When we manage
to get him imprisoned,” he corrected himself.
He was sure Potter was going to protest about that being unethical, or stupid,
or something along those lines. To his surprise, instead, he seemed to really
consider the idea. “I… I know where they keep the money,” he stammered softly,
“I guess… it would be like borrowing…”
“Without asking,” pointed out Scorpius softly, eyeing him and waiting for his
refusal.
It didn’t come.
Instead, Potter nodded. “Yes, without asking… but I’m sure he’ll be happy to
know… afterwards… what we’ve used it for…” He lowered his eyes and bit his
bottom lip. “I know my father will be happy… and my mother… she’s been… I can’t
remember her being happy, since that last day I saw her with Lily at King’s
Cross…”
Scorpius nodded curtly, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the sentimental
turn the conversation had taken. “We should go then,” he muttered. “The shops
close at five, and today is a Hogsmeade weekend.”
Potter looked at him gravely. “Yes,” he replied, “let’s go.”
***
Albus had panicked.
“We need five hundred Galleons.”
“What?” asked Fred, looking at him as if he was completely bonkers.
“What?” groaned Malfoy at his back.
Albus tried to smile, but all he could muster was a nervous little twitch of
his lips. “We need five hundred Galleons,” he repeated to his cousin.
Fred cocked an eyebrow as he shifted his eyes from Albus to Malfoy and back to
him. “Yes,” he replied, “sure. Let me just grab them for you.” He crossed his
arms and leant the small of his back against the edge of the counter, unmoving.
“You’re not going to grab them, are you?” asked Albus dejectedly.
Fred took a deep breath as he glanced askew at Malfoy once again before
returning his eyes to Albus. “What have you gotten yourself into, Al? If you
need help you know that—”
“Stupefy.”
Albus groaned as he turned towards Malfoy, his wand was still pointed at Fred.
“Malfoy!” he hissed.
Malfoy walked past him and towards the lying body. “I thought we were going to
borrow the money without asking, Potter,” he said, without looking at him.
“We can’t…”
“Listen,” he snapped, “if you’d seen her you wouldn’t hesitate.”
Albus swallowed. He was right. Malfoy was right; he had to mark the calendar
because that was probably the first time in history that Malfoy was right about
something. He had to do it for Lily. He would go back later and tellFred
everything. After he brought his sister home. Fred would surely tell him that
it didn’t even matter. Lily was worth much more than any sum of money.
“Right…” he murmured.
“Get the money, then,” snapped Malfoy as he pointed his wand once again at
Fred. Albus hurried to the till and pushed the red side button that opened a
little, hidden drawer. There he found the key that opened the safe concealed
under the trapdoor near the counter. He hoped fervently that they had five
hundred Galleons in there. But, surely they did. Albus and his fellow Prefects
had confiscated so many items from that shop, in the past few months, that
surely Fred had much more than that there. He heard Malfoy muttering a Memory
Charm and whispering a new memory to Fred – he had slipped and fallen on a
Portable Swamp, he had hit his head, there had been nobody there when it had
happened, he should have paid more attention, he was definitely as big an idiot
as all the Weasleys were – while Albus opened the safe and started to count
Galleons one by one.
“Hurry, Potter,” muttered Malfoy, as he knelt next to him and started to
countlessly shovel the shiny Galleons into his pockets and school bag. “We’ll
count them later.”
Albus nodded, and soon he was blindly grabbing fistfuls of coins just like
Malfoy.
Before Fred could even stir, they were hurrying out of the shop and making
their way back to the castle with their pockets and bags filled with money.
***
Two weeks later, Scorpius found Potter in the library.
He sat down next to him, pushed the card he had just received via owl towards
the Gryffindor, and looked at him as he surveyed the words attentively.
The library was silent and mostly filled with fifth and seventh year students,
studying for their upcoming exams.
Potter pushed the card back to him and nodded. “So it’s done,” he whispered,
“tomorrow night.”
Scorpius nodded. “Did your cousin notice that the money was missing?”
Potter nodded back. “Yes,” he replied nervously, “he reported it to the
Ministry. They are investigating.”
“Right,” Scorpius replied softly, trying hard not to show any nervousness
himself. He stood up and pocketed the card. “Tomorrow night, Potter. I’ll meet
you in front of the Great Hall at nine.”
Potter nodded back and, without adding a word, Scorpius stood up and walked
away.
***
Scarlet hunched her back as she felt her father’s lips brushing against her
naked shoulder.
“Does your back still hurt?” he whispered against her shoulder blade. He slid
an arm around her waist, and pulled her against his chest, without waiting for
her answer.
She swallowed. It still hurt, even though the Healer had managed to make all
the signs of the whip disappear, with some miraculous ointment that stunk
horribly and stung her skin, the pain was still there. “Yes, Father,” she
replied softly, her fingers clutching at the pillow as he flattened his chest
against her back, and his erection poked at her thigh.
He tightened his arms around her and kissed her neck. “I know,” he said softly,
“I asked him not to take away the pain this time.” He brushed his fingers over
a nipple and her muscles stiffened. “A little reminder of what you did,
Scarlet.”
She felt tears swell up in her eyes once again as her father reminded her for
the umpteenth time of what she had done. “I didn’t mean to,” she sniffled. “I
swear, Father, I didn’t mean to…”
“I know,” he replied softly, cupping her breast before he squeezed it until she
whimpered. “But you did it, Scarlet.” He let her flesh go and brought his hand
up to cup her face, making her turn to look at him. “You almost killed Ebony.”
Her bottom lip quivered slightly as he brushed away the tears. “I’m sorry,” she
murmured.
He made her turn on the bed and gently tugged one of her legs over his hip. “I
know you are,” he said, as he rolled on his back and brought his hands to her
waist, bringing her on top of him.
She closed her eyes and balled her hands into fists as he entered her in one
swift movement.
“Ride me,” he ordered her, and she could almost feel the small, satisfied smile
in his voice the moment she obeyed him.
***
Teddy slid an arm around Victoire’s shoulders and pulled her to him. He lowered
his head and kissed her gently. “Hmm,” he murmured, leaning back against the
couch, “I can’t believe you finally moved in…”
She giggled against his lips and tilted her head back a little. “Well, you gave
me this beautiful ring,” she told him, raising her hand, “I couldn’t have
refused, even if I wanted to…”
He grinned. “Yes, indeed, you agreed to marry me, Miss Weasley…”
“And I’m so glad I did…” she whispered, diving in for another kiss.
Teddy pulled her to him a bit more forcefully, and she fell on his lap between
giggles and laughter. “I can’t believe your parents let you move in before we
tied the knot, though,” he admitted with a smile.
Victoire looked at him and grinned. “My mum wants a grandchild,” she giggled.
Teddy shook his head and chuckled. “Oh man… already?”
“Yes,” grinned Victoire, her hand going to pat her tummy, “a little Teddy or a
little Victoire to cart around…”
It was unexpected when Teddy’s amused face darkened suddenly. “A little Teddy,”
he said gravely.
Victoire furrowed her brow slightly at the change in his tone. “Or a little
Victoire,” she repeated.
He shook his head firmly. “No, just a little Teddy.”
She grinned and slapped his arm playfully. “Edward Remus Lupin! I didn’t know
you were such a sexist,” she giggled, “I’m sure that you’d love to have a
little girl, she’d be daddy’s little princess and—”
“I don’t want a girl, Victoire,” he repeated firmly.
Victoire’s lips parted in surprise as she raised her head to look more closely
at her fiancé. “You’re serious,” she murmured.
He nodded and looked away. “Yes,” he replied curtly, “I don’t want a daughter
who might disappear for Merlin knows what reason, while she is visiting her
grandparents.”
Victoire’s heart skipped a beat. “Teddy…” she murmured.
“And the Auror assigned to her case would never be able to find her, no matter
how many leads he follows, how many times he tries.”
“Teddy,” repeated Victoire a bit more forcefully, her hand sneaking to the
shaking cheek of her future husband.
“And then her parents will lose all hope,” he continued, his voice a bit
choked, “and her mother will just cry all the time and declare that her
daughter is alive when everybody just thinks that she is dead… and I… I walk
past Harry’s office and hear him cry every time we think we’ve found her, and
instead… and I… I didn’t even… I tried so hard to find her…”
Victoire raised her head and pressed her soft lips against his stubble-covered
cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and felt Teddy hugging her back as
he shook with tears. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered against his skin,
“it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”
She could feel him hiding his face in her hair. She could feel his hot tears
against her neck. She could feel his strong arms trembling with grief and guilt
and anger. “Victoire,” he murmured thickly, “don’t let me go…”
“Never, Teddy, never…”
***
Hugo walked back into the Common Room and furrowed his brow. Rose was there,
which was not surprising, but she wasn’t studying, which was extremely
shocking. She was sitting on the couch and was staring into the fire, her knees
to her chest and her leather-covered diary next to her.
“How is it that you are not studying?” he asked her as he came to stand next to
the couch, a smile stretching his lips. “Are you sure you’re my sister?”
She looked up at him, brown eyes as big as Galleons, lips parted in surprise as
if he had somehow startled her. “Hugo,” she said softly.
Hugo frowned as he sat down next to her. “Are you okay, Rose?” he asked,
staring at her face, illuminated by fire light.
She nodded. “Hugo,” she whispered, “stay in the Common Room with me tonight.” 
“What?” he asked, without really understanding why she would ask him something
like that.
“Please,” she murmured.
“Sleep here?” he asked, looking at the battered, old sofa with a groan.
She nodded. “Trust me,” she said softly, but firmly.
“Why?”
She swallowed, and looked away from him. “Because you want to be here if
something happens…”
He furrowed his brow and looked at her intently; but when it was clear that she
wouldn’t say anything else, he just turned to look at the fire as well, waiting
for some unknown event.
***** Chapter XVIII *****
                                      ***
When Scorpius felt the ground materialising under his feet, he finally opened
his eyes. Nott & Goyle ltd. was right in front of him, in all its sickening
glory. Its windows were all alight and, even from outside, he could see the
employees hurrying about and pretending to be working.
The air was cold, and the street was dark and deserted around him. He took a
deep mouthful of air to compel his heart to beat a bit slower, and for his
breath not to sound as laboured as it was now.
Tonight was the night.
The night he would save Scarlet from her horrid father, and a life in hell.
The night he would give Lily Potter back to her family.
The night in which he would become the unwilling knight in shining armour; as
well as, most likely, the night he would be arrested despite said heroic feats.
The night that would change his life, as well as the life of the people around
him forever.
The night he was going to join forces with Albus Potter, to save the girl he
had fallen in love with.
Yes, tonight was the night.
“Potter,” Scorpius hissed softly.
“I’m right here, Malfoy,” he replied somewhere at his right.
“Stay close to me,” he murmured as he started to walk towards the entrance.
“And let me know when you’ve walked inside the doors okay?”
“I know what to do, Malfoy,” replied Potter nervously. “It’s not the first time
I've used this cloak.”
Scorpius didn’t reply. He nodded imperceptibly, and swallowed, as he stretched
his hand towards the handle. He opened the door and felt Potter’s presence
closer to him as they both slid inside at the same time. The harsh lights of
the place hurt his eyes. “Pay attention to those people,” he murmured, trying
to move his lips as little as possible. “They move fast.”
Potter didn’t reply, but Scorpius could feel him brush against his side as they
walked towards the witch at the information desk. He took out his card and
turned it over three times in his hand, before he showed it to the woman who
sat in front of him.
“Good evening, Mr Malfoy,” she said with a smile upon her lips.
He nodded nervously and turned his head towards the door that had started to
appear on the wall. The witch was still smiling as he walked towards the
passage. She always smiled, that was all Scorpius had ever seen her doing. She
looked so calm and relaxed, as if she was sure that nothing out of the ordinary
could happen there.
Suddenly, Scorpius’ mouth was dry as a thought crossed his mind. What if there
was a reason why she was so relaxed? What if there were warding spells? What if
Potter would be bounced back because he didn’t have a card? What if he was
hexed, and their whole plan discovered? What if Potter died? Weirdly enough, he
found that he cared if Potter died. He tried to convince himself that it was
because he needed him to save Scarlet, but maybe it wasn’t just that. Maybe it
was the fact that he was Scarlet’s brother. Or maybe it was because he actually
kind of thought that Potter was an all right person after all.
He pulled the door open and walked inside, closing his eyes and waiting, hoping
and wishing fervently that nothing would happen. He could feel his heart
beating furiously in his chest, as he stood there with his hands balled into
fists and his jaw set.
“What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?”
His eyes snapped open, and he was glad that Potter’s whisper had come from
somewhere in front of him. “Nothing,” he murmured, as the door closed at his
back, and the dark staircase lit up with the flames of the torches. “Let’s go.”
They climbed down the stairs in silence and, when they walked past the thick
curtain and into the round room, Scorpius felt his feet sink into the plush
rugs and his heart skipped a beat. Was he leaving imprints in the soft
material? Was Potter going to leave imprints as well? He walked inside and
turned quickly to look at the floor.
“Potter,” he murmured softly through gritted teeth.
“What?” whispered Potter back.
“Your feet,” he breathed, “hide the footprints…”
Potter didn’t reply, but he could feel him walking on his other side, farther
from the counter than before.
“Ah, Mr Malfoy,” said Charles as he finally made his way to the wizard, “what a
pleasure to see you back at our establishment.”
Scorpius put the card on the table and nodded. He didn’t want to talk to him;
he didn’t trust his voice at the moment.
Charles took the card and started to copy his information on the registry, he
seemed to be slower than usual, or was Scorpius just too nervous? “You are, as
always, Mr Malfoy, a bit early,” he said to him, “but you can wait in the
room.”
Scorpius nodded. “I know,” he said hoarsely.
Charles smiled at him. “Marvellous,” he said as he pushed the button to summon
the witch that would bring him to the room. “Room Eleven tonight, Sir.” He
handed him a new card with the number of the room on it the moment a girl
opened one of the doors and walked inside.
She was tall and thin, with willowy arms, a mass of blonde curls, and eyes that
seemed as if they were made of ice. She looked at Scorpius and licked her lips.
“So handsome,” she murmured walking towards him. Scorpius could actually feel
the air that Potter displaced, as he tried to move out of her reach. “Not for
me, is he?”
“No,” replied Charles dryly. “Room Eleven, Effie.”
The girl glared at the wizard, before turning her back to him and smirking at
Scorpius. “Follow me, Sir,” she purred.
Scorpius followed her through the door and into the corridor. He didn’t need to
be escorted anymore, really, but he imagined that they didn’t let the clients
walk towards the rooms alone for Merlin knew what reason. They could come out
by themselves once they were ready, but they probably thought that that was a
different situation. The men were sated and happy after an hour with one of the
girls, and they probably just wanted to go home and relax afterwards.
The girl was talking about something that Scorpius was not caring to listen to.
Something about the fact that he looked rich, and that she was not too
expensive if he wanted to have a quickie after his appointment. Scorpius didn’t
reply, he didn’t even look at her, and he could see her annoyance on face;
probably because of what she must have thought was contempt on his part.
“Thank you,” said Scorpius, as she stopped in front of a door that sported the
number eleven on the top.
She nodded curtly, and snorted in irritation, as she walked away, leaving
Scorpius and Potter there. He waited until she had disappeared behind a sharp
corner of the corridor to open the door and walk inside. The room was blue, and
slightly different from the other two he had seen. The bed wasn’t canopied and
the two armchairs were covered in fluffy blankets. The wall-to-wall carpet was
also light blue, and so thick it almost made Scorpius motion sick as he stepped
on it.
“This is so tacky,” murmured Potter from under the cloak.
Scorpius nodded at him as he took off his own cloak and started to pace
nervously about the room.
“Was that girl a prostitute?” asked Potter as he pushed down his hood. His head
was floating in mid-air as he looked intently at Scorpius.
He nodded again. “All the girls here are prostitutes,” he replied dryly.
“Whatever they say, don’t listen to them. They are always lying or trying to
get money from you.” He turned towards him and smirked. “Unless they say that
I’m handsome.”
Potter snorted. “That’s the only thing I was sure she was lying about.”
Scorpius couldn’t think of anything to retort with. All he could think about
was the plan. A seemingly easy and infallible plan. She would walk in any
minute now, and they would tell her what to do, and then they would be walking
out of there and towards Scarlet’s freedom in roughly a bit more than an hour.
He could hardly believe it. His heart was beating so fast and loud, and he just
hoped that Potter couldn’t hear it, because it was somehow embarrassing to feel
that nervous. He should have shown composure and cold blood. He was a Malfoy,
after all, and he had to be in control.
On the other hand, Potter was almost never in control. Scorpius looked at him
and narrowed his eyes accusatorily.
“What?” asked Potter defensibly.
“You need to keep it together,” he hissed. “When you see her, I mean.” He
raised his chin and added, “They are going to hear you if you cry under that
cloak.”
To his surprise – or maybe not, only now Scorpius understood that he was about
to witness something that would have been quite too emotional for his liking –
he didn’t snap back at him. “I won’t do anything that could put her in danger,”
he replied softly.
Scorpius looked away from him. “Good,” he muttered. That didn’t mean that he
wouldn’t cry, and the Slytherin wasn’t ready to see that. “Listen, I told you
that she—”
He was interrupted by a knock on the door. His grey eyes filled with
apprehension as they turned towards Potter. “Wear the hood,” he whispered
urgently, the last thing he wanted was to scare her into running away before he
could tell her what was going to happen.
Potter complied quickly, and Scorpius could see his hands shaking as he pulled
the hood over his head.
He nodded towards the place where Potter had just disappeared, and finally
cleared his throat, and said, “Come in.” He noticed that suddenly he couldn’t
hear his heart beat, nor could he understand if he were breathing or not. He
didn’t care though.
The door opened and, just like the time before when Scarlet had recognised his
voice, she was in his arms before he could even understand what had happened,
the door closing at her back again and her little body pressing against him.
“Scorpius,” she breathed as she hugged him tightly. “I missed you.”
He lowered his eyes on her, his arms instinctively wrapping around her back and
stopping as she whimpered faintly against his chest. “Scarlet,” he breathed,
“are you… are you alright?”
She nodded and tilted her head up to look at him. “I am,” she beamed at him. “I
thought about you, every day.”
Scorpius nodded and tried to smile, but his senses were invaded by a thousand
feelings and emotions, and all he wanted to do at that moment was to never move
from there, to keep her safe in his arms for all his life.
In order to do that, though, he had to move and let her go.
He grasped her wrists and unclasped her arms from around his body, bringing her
hands between them and rubbing his thumbs soothingly on her soft skin.
“Scarlet,” he murmured, “there’s something I need to show you.”
She parted her lips as her eyes widened in expectancy. She nodded quickly,
looking even more like a child than usual.
He nodded back. “Don’t scream,” he murmured as he made her turn towards Potter.
He waited for Potter to take off his cloak, but nothing happened and for a
moment he wondered if the Gryffindor was there at all and hadn’t maybe instead
run to the bathroom, throwing up the contents of his stomach because of the
emotions that were surely rampaging through his guts. “Potter,” he hissed.
Only then Potter’s hands appeared from under the cloak, and Scorpius could see
his face as he looked at Scarlet. And he was almost sorry for the way he had
hissed his name a second before. Potter was staring at her, his open mouth and
wide eyes were almost mirroring her expression, his eyes were bright and it was
uncomfortably clear that he was going to cry.
“Oh,” whimpered Scarlet as she took a step back and bumped her back against
Scorpius’ chest, “was I overbooked?” Her voice sported such despair that
Scorpius’ heart clenched at her tone.
“No, no… he—”
“You are her,” whispered Potter, interrupting him. He shed the cloak completely
and it pooled at his feet, finally visible. “You really are her.” His voice was
filled with ten thousand emotions that Scorpius really couldn’t make out. He
took a step towards Scarlet and she stood perfectly still.
“Lily…” breathed Potter.
The silence that followed her name was almost deafening. Scorpius couldn’t hear
anything but his heartbeat and suddenly he felt like he was invading the
siblings’ private space. He stepped back and Scarlet didn’t follow him. She
stood there, motionless, probably wondering what the young man who looked on
the verge of tears wanted from her.
Scorpius walked backwards towards the armchairs and sat on the plush blanket.
It was outrageously warm and it smelled of flowers. He looked at the two
Potters and, to his surprise, he noticed that neither of them was moving a
muscle.
Then, slowly as if she was a wounded animal he was afraid to scare, Potter
raised his arm and stretched his fingers towards her face. “You really are
her,” he repeated stupidly, his voice was choked now and Scorpius could see the
tears that he had dreaded falling, pooling at the corners of Potter’s eyes. His
fingers finally brushed her face and she looked at him without moving, letting
his digits slide on her smooth skin.
“You… you don’t remember me,” he finally choked out.
Scarlet shook her head and lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she murmured.
“Are you a client?”
Potter didn’t reply, but he stepped closer to her. “Can I… can I hug you?” he
murmured. From his voice he really seemed on the verge of crying.
She raised her eyes to look at him, her mouth a perfect ‘o’ of surprise,
probably at how gentle Potter was being with her. Scorpius was just glad that
the Gryffindor was remembering what he had told him and was not letting his
emotions run wild and maybe scare her to death. She nodded slowly, looking at
him almost apprehensively.
Potter moved slowly, every movement a calculated gesture to be as gentle and as
unhurried as he could while he approached her. Finally, he was crying. And he
was sniffling loudly, unashamed, though he was in front of Scorpius. He looked
at her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She whimpered again and that
didn’t go unnoticed to Scorpius. Something was wrong with her.
Potter seemed to notice as well, because his arms didn’t squeeze her. “I missed
you so much,” he murmured to her. “We’ve looked for you everywhere… I’m so
sorry. I… I’m sorry I didn’t want you to hang out with me when Fred and Louis
came over, I’m sorry I didn’t want to wake up on Christmas morning to open the
presents with you, I’m sorry I… I…” His words were swallowed by his tears and
Scorpius had to look away because that scene made him uncomfortable.
He looked back at them only when Scarlet hushed him gently. Her hands patted
his back gently and caressed his hair. “Shh,” she whispered soothingly, “don’t
cry. It’s all right… It’s all right… don’t cry…”
That reaction from her, somehow, had the power to make Potter cry even louder.
“I… I…” He turned his head towards Scorpius and brushed away the tears hastily.
“Can I tell her?” he asked him a bit throatily.
Scorpius shook his head, swallowing. “No,” he replied firmly, standing up,
“we’ve talked about this, Potter. Afterwards.” He didn’t want her to feel all
confused and scared and flustered after they told her that Potter was her
brother. She needed to be calm and focused as they took her out of there. “Put
yourself together,” he told him, walking towards them and coming to stand in
front of Scarlet. “Scarlet,” he said, taking a deep breath, “we are taking you
out of here.”
She looked at him with a blank expression upon her face, probably trying to
register his words. “Out?” she asked softly.
Scorpius nodded forcefully. “Out,” he replied. “Outside.”
“For tonight?” she asked, her voice shy. “Does Father know?”
Scorpius glanced at Potter, the raven-haired boy was looking at her as if she
were a nymph of the woods and would disappear any moment now. Scorpius shook
his head before looking at her again. “Forever,” he said firmly, “and your
father doesn’t know. We are putting you under an Invisibility Cloak with Albus
and—right. Albus, his name is Albus, I… I forgot to tell you.” He had forgotten
to introduce him and apparently Potter had too. Of course it must have felt
weird for him to introduce himself to his own sister, and after all, Potter
seemed upset. Right… now that Scorpius glanced at him he looked like he was in
shock. The Slytherin gritted his teeth. Merlin! He needed him to be clear-
headed for what they were about to do.
“I’m Albus,” said Potter, nodding softly.
Scarlet beamed at him as brightly as she usually beamed at Scorpius. “I’m
Scarlet,” she replied warmly.
Potter smiled back at her and thankfully he didn’t correct her.
“Okay,” said Scorpius. “Scarlet, we are taking you out of here under that
cloak. We are freeing you, do you understand me?”
She shook her head as she looked back at him. “But… but Father is going to get
angry…”
“Your father won’t know until you are out of here,” said Scorpius, “and when
you are, he won’t be able to hurt you anymore.” He stretched his arms to close
his fingers around her upper arms and brushed his thumbs on her skin. “We’ll
protect you, okay? Nothing bad will happen to you. Do you trust me?”
She finally pressed her lips together and looked a bit more resolute than
before when she nodded. Then her eyes widened as if a thought had crossed her
mind. “I need to go and get Taffy,” she said seriously, already walking towards
the door.
“No!” said Scorpius, grasping her wrist and pulling her to him to stop her.
“Who’s Taffy?” asked Potter, furrowing his brow.
Scarlet looked at him, her face all worried as tears started to form at the
corner of her eyes. “But she’s my best-friend and she takes care of me,” she
sobbed. “I can’t leave her…”
Scorpius looked at Potter. “It’s her house-elf,” he explained, before looking
down at Scarlet. “No, Scarlet, we’ll send for her tomorrow, okay? I promise.”
She looked at him with pleading eyes and sniffled another time before nodding
reluctantly. “Tomorrow?” she asked shyly.
Scorpius nodded forcefully. “Yes,” he replied, “have I ever lied to you?” He
had, involuntarily, he had.
Graciously, she shook her head. “No,” she replied softly, “you’re my handsome
knight…”
Scorpius felt his cheeks on fire as he avoided looking into Potter’s eyes,
after her words.
“Right,” he said, rather stiffly, “we have to wait until almost the end of the
hour and then we’ll all go together. You are going to be invisible, so you
cannot make a sound, okay, Scarlet?”
She nodded, looking at him in awe and with a bit of apprehension.
Scorpius smiled softly at her, trying to reassure her; if she started to cry or
shake or talk under that cloak, they were going to be discovered. “Let’s try
it, okay?” he asked to both Scarlet and Potter.
“Yes,” said Potter quickly, picking up the cloak and brushing away the remnants
of his newest tears from his face. “Come here, Lily…”
“Scarlet,” mouthed Scorpius over her shoulder, glaring at him.
Potter swallowed. “I mean, Scarlet, come… come here…”
She walked towards him and Potter just stared at her, his expression
transfixed. “You look so much like Mum,” he whispered, before he could stop
himself. He shook his head lightly and added, “Stand here, close to me. Yes,
put your arm around my waist, we need to be able to walk without falling, but
we have to be close. Good, like this.” He brought the cloak over them and they
disappeared from the room. “Can you see us?”
“No, Potter, you’re under the cloak,” pointed out Scorpius, crossing his arms.
“I mean our feet, Malfoy,” replied Potter with a sigh.
He looked down but all he could see were little imprints in the carpet. “Just
where the carpet dents,” he replied, swallowing. “Try to walk.”
They did and to Scorpius’ dismay, in the silence of the room, he could hear the
faint chafing of her ankle bracelet against Potter’s trousers. “I can hear the
bracelet,” he muttered frantically.
The hood came off and Potter looked at him seriously. “Let’s take it off,” he
suggested matter-of-factly.
“I can’t,” replied Scarlet in a murmur, her eyes tearing up. “It’s magic. I’m
sorry, I can’t… Father sealed it on me… I’m sorry…”
“No, no, no,” said Potter, pulling her to him to kiss her forehead and calm her
down, “don’t worry. We’ll switch places. You’ll stand on the other side and if
Scorpius can still hear it… Scorpius… Scorpius will pretend he has a cough…” He
looked at Scorpius expectantly. “Right, Scorpius?”
Scorpius nodded, feeling a bit unsettled to be called by his first name by
Potter. “Yes,” he replied. “We’ll cover it.” He looked at Potter and added,
“Can you walk all right?”
Potter nodded, he took off the cloak and turned to look at Scarlet. “You can’t
talk when we are under the cloak, okay?” he murmured urgently. “And you have to
slow down your breathing, they can’t hear us.”
She nodded and swallowed, eyes wide.
Potter took a deep breath as he caressed her cheek. “I missed you so much,” he
murmured. “I can’t believe Scorpius found you. We’ve looked for you
everywhere…”
Scarlet looked at him with a confused expression. “I’m… I’m sorry…” she
whispered.
“No,” Potter whispered back, “don’t worry… everything will be all right now.”
She nodded, probably more to make him happy rather than because she knew what
‘all right’ meant. She didn’t know anything but the brothel and Nott’s rough
manhandling; she didn’t know how wonderful her life was going to be. Scorpius
felt excitement pooling in his stomach at the thought of how happy she was
going to be.
The blond boy looked at the Grandfather Clock near the bathroom door. Almost
forty minutes had gone by since they had entered the room. They still needed to
stay in there a bit longer. People would question him if he walked out of there
so much earlier than usual.
“Scarlet,” he called and to his pleasure she turned towards him at once. “Come
here.”
She walked to him and he grabbed her shoulders in his hands. He wanted to tell
her that she would be wonderful, that he just knew that, when she winced at
that slight contact of his fingers on her back and buried her face in his
chest. Scorpius let her go immediately.
“What’s wrong?” asked Potter apprehensively. “What happened?”
Scorpius looked at him and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted, before
he closed his fingers around her upper arms and pushed her back gently.
“Scarlet, what happened? Are you in pain?”
She looked up at him, eyes shining with tears, and nodded.
“What happened?”
She swallowed and her cheeks flushed slightly. “Father put me in the playroom
for four days,” she whispered.
“The playroom? What’s the playroom?” asked Potter, setting his jaw as if he
could already imagine what that place was.
“It’s where Father sends us when we are not good,” she replied meekly, looking
at him.
“Why… why were you sent there?” whispered Potter.
She lowered her eyes and her tears finally fell down her cheeks. “I used
magic,” she murmured, before looking back up at him. “But I didn’t do it on
purpose! I swear, it just happened, I don’t even know how…” 
Potter smiled comfortingly at her. “Of course,” he replied sweetly. “When we’ll
get you out of here, we’ll buy you a wand and you’ll use all the magic you
want.”
Her lips parted in surprise again as she brushed away the tears with the back
of her hand. “Really?” she asked shyly.
Potter nodded. “Mum and Dad will teach you everything,” he whispered, before
throwing himself into reciting a list of thousands of other things that she
would be able to do. Going to Hogwarts, walking in their garden, going to the
beach with them, shopping in Diagon Alley…
“Potter,” hissed Scorpius when Scarlet’s rapt expression let him know that she
was already getting over excited about those promises. That was too much
information for her at that moment.
“Sorry,” said Potter, smiling warmly at Scarlet. “Is it time?” he asked to
Scorpius.
Scorpius glanced at the Grandfather Clock. “Yes,” he breathed. “It is time.”
***
Albus looked at Malfoy from behind the cloak. He was aware that the blond boy
could not see them, but he had seen where they had disappeared and knew that
they were standing there, so he nodded to them.
Albus nodded back instinctively and out of the corner of his eye he saw Lily
nodding too. He turned to look at her and couldn’t help smiling at her resolute
expression. She really looked like a child – Malfoy had been right – a child
who had been given a puzzle and was trying hard to solve it, because her smooth
forehead sported a little frown of concentration.
He just wanted to tell her everything. To talk to her about Mum and Dad and to
tell her that he was her brother, and that there was James as well and he was
her brother too. He wanted to let her know that tonight she would sleep at
home, in her old room, right next to his. He wanted to give her a heads up that
their mother would cry all day and all night for weeks, but that they would be
tears of happiness. Not to worry.
He also wanted to kill Nott. Slowly and painfully.
“Ready?” asked Malfoy as he looked at them without seeing them.
“Ready,” replied Albus.
“Ready,” agreed Lily, her voice tiny.
Malfoy nodded at them and walked towards the door, he opened it and finally
walked outside.
Albus’ arm ghosted around Lily’s shoulders as he tried hard not to put pressure
where she seemed to hurt the most. He could feel her little hand grasping his
robes around his waist. She was shaking slightly and he started to rub his
thumb over her upper arm to calm her down, just like he had seen Malfoy do
earlier. They walked into the corridor and Malfoy started to cough lightly
every time there was a noise coming from behind one of the closed doors. Even
though that was really not necessary, because there was no sound coming from
that ankle bracelet at all.
As they reached the door that brought them back into the round room where
Scorpius had stopped to give his card to the man at the reception, though, all
Albus could hear was Lily’s laboured breath against his shoulder. He made her
slide quickly through the door and brought his hand up to cover her mouth and
nose. He brought his other hand to his mouth and then pushed a finger against
his lips, gesturing for her to make less noise.
She widened her eyes and nodded and he released her. She brought her free hand
to her mouth as soon as he let her go and covered it, looking at him as if she
expected him to tell her that he was satisfied. He nodded and smiled gently at
her. He wanted to hug her and kiss the top of her head until she pushed him
away like she used to do when she was a little girl. And he would have done
just that, but not now nor in that place. That night, though. Once she was safe
and sound outside, far, far away from Nott and that horrible place.
“You finished early tonight, Sir,” said the man behind the counter, his face
slightly surprised. “Was she not pliant?”
“She was perfect,” replied Malfoy sourly. “I’m just in a hurry.”
The man looked at him and sneered. “Five hundred Galleons for an hour with her
and you’re in a hurry, Mr Malfoy,” he said coldly. “Your family must really be
as rich as everybody says.”
“More than that,” replied Malfoy haughtily. “The receipt, please, I need to
go.”
Albus wondered if that man could hear the nervousness in Malfoy’s voice, he
certainly could. He gritted his teeth and tried hard to telepathically tell him
to stay calm. Naturally, nothing happened.
“Of course, Sir,” said the man obsequiously. He drew out a piece of parchment
and signed it at the bottom. “Would you like to schedule another appointment?”
he asked with a smile.
Malfoy took the parchment and pocketed it. “No,” he replied. “I’ll write.”
“Of course, Sir,” repeated the man while Malfoy was already walking towards the
door. “Have a lovely evening.”
Albus looked as Malfoy didn’t even reply to him, he squeezed Lily’s shoulder
and nudged her forward. The curtain was only a few feet from them and it was
getting closer and closer. Soon, oh! so soon! They would be out of there.
Outside, with Lily safe and sound, and he would tell her everything.
Malfoy was already drawing the curtain aside, nobody had noticed their imprints
in the carpet nor their breathing nor the faint noise of her heavy ankle
bracelet. An ankle bracelet that she could not take off. That was sealed onto
her ankle with magic. Albus knew that their father would do everything in his
power to break Nott’s magic. His mark, because surely that was just that. A
mark. As if she was a pet. Nott’s pet.
Not anymore.
Malfoy slid through the curtain and Albus took a deep breath as they walked
closely behind him, he dunk slightly to walk under the curtain without brushing
it with the top of his head.
And then, suddenly, something went horribly wrong.
Lily’s fingers clutched desperately at his robes, once, twice, three times.
Then he could feel her body starting to shake next to him.
Then her hand slid from her mouth and she screamed. She screamed so loudly and
with such pain that Albus felt his heart stop beating.
He turned to look at her the moment she fell to the floor, her body convulsing
as if she had been hit by the Cruciatus Curse. But nobody had fired. He was
sure.
“What’s happening?” cried Malfoy, turning to look at them. “Potter! What’s
happening?”
Albus pulled the cloak away from them and to his horror he finally saw what was
wrong. Lily’s foot was stuck in the round room as if an invisible force was
keeping it there, the ankle bracelet was spinning around her ankle and
something dark was insidiously crawling up the pale skin of her lower leg.
And she was in pain, in so much pain, tears started to trace her cheeks again
and her muscles went all stiff as she cried and cried and cried.
It was not just a mark.
That was an alarm. A ward. A trick to keep her from running away.
“Damn,” he heard Malfoy murmur in horror, before spells were fired at Albus’
back and everything went black.
 
***** Chapter XIX *****
Chapter Notes
     This chapter features very strong suggestive language. Read at your
     own discretion.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                      ***
“Engorgio. Engorgio. Engorgio!”
Scorpius’ eyes fluttered open as he heard the muttered spell. Someone was
trying really hard to enlarge something and he honestly didn’t want to know
what they were trying to enlarge or who was doing that or why. His head hurt
and every bone and muscle in his poor body was screaming in pain.
He wanted to stay in bed forever, or at least until a house-elf came to massage
his sore back. He felt as if he had fallen down a flight of stairs, landed on
marble steps, and laid there until someone had come to drag him away. Someone
who took special care to ensure that his head hit every wall on the way…
His eyes snapped opened.
He had fallen down a flight of stairs!
Someone had hexed him and he had fallen and… Scarlet! Albus! He pushed his
hands on the cold surface under him and noticed that it was no bed at all. It
was the cold floor of what looked like a dark cell somewhere deep in some
dungeons.
“Engorgio!” the voice said again, and finally Scorpius recognised it.
“What the—” he croaked out, his voice a murmur, nothing more than a painful
rasp in his throat.
“Tell me you are good at casting Wandless spells,” snapped Potter impatiently.
Scorpius pulled himself up in a sitting position and groaned. The back of his
head was already sporting a swelling and it hurt. “What the hell happened?” he
grunted. “Where are we?” He looked around himself and his heart clenched.
“Where’s Scarlet?” he whispered.
Potter looked at him coldly. “Lily,” he corrected him icily. “She’s not here. I
just woke up as well. We’re in some kind of cell, somewhere underground.”
“Everything is underground here,” Scorpius pointed out sourly. “Where is she?”
he asked again, apprehension in his voice.
Potter lowered his eyes and darkened. “I don’t know,” he murmured, shaking his
head. “If Nott harms a single hair on her head… I swear… I swear I’ll kill him…
and then my father will reduce his body into pieces so small that nobody will
ever find him again.”
Scorpius resisted the urge to tell him that Nott had already harmed her more
than he could bear to know, in the past years. Instead he dragged himself
towards the stony wall and grasped the rocks to help himself to his feet. He
had to steady himself before he could take an unsure step forward and have a
better look at the place. There wasn’t much to see, though. There was only a
kind of a makeshift bed in a corner, and that was all. Three walls and the
floor were covered in large, cold stones, while on one side of the little cell
there were bars from the floor to the ceiling, both horizontally and vertically
to form a perfect reticulate that imprisoned them in that place. There was a
door almost hidden amongst the bars, and it was – naturally – locked as
Scorpius noticed when he tried to uselessly shake it out of its hinges. On the
other side of the bars there was a small corridor with a wooden door on the
left. The place was only lit by a torch on the wall opposite the bars.
Scorpius took a deep breath and turned his back to the web of iron, he let
himself slide down to sit back on the floor. Where was Scarlet? What were they
doing to her? What had happened? He knew that bit, naturally. A present from
Father, she had said. He wanted to close his hands around the neck of his
father’s friend. He wanted to kill him without the aid of magic, to feel the
life leave his body under his digits.
And apparently Potter wanted that too as he was still murmuring under his
breath.
“How?” groaned Scorpius.
Potter turned to look at him. “How what?” he asked impatiently.
“How are we going to kill him, Albus?” he asked back, sighing. He was aware
that that was the first time he had ever addressed the boy by his first name,
but desperate times called for desperate measures, and somehow he suspected
that this adventure of theirs was going to bring them quite close together. If
they survived it, naturally. “We are in a cell without our wands and not even a
soul knows that we are here. They are going to kill us and nobody will ever
find us again. Just like your sister.”
Albus shook his head. “Of course someone knows that we are here, Scorpius!” he
said hotly.
Scorpius took a minute to register his words. He had made him promise not to
tell it to a soul. Albus had promised. He… he had lied to him! That was very
Slytherin of him! And he was so glad Albus had a bit of it in him. “You lied to
me…” he moaned surprised.
“Yes. Boohoo, the Gryffindor lied!” Albus snapped back.
Scorpius stared at him with his mouth open, barely registering the scornful
note in his voice. “Who—”
“Rose,” Albus grunted quickly.
Scorpius groaned. “Your cousin?” he asked. “What will she do? Summon a Prefect
meeting?”
“Tell the Aurors, you nitwit!” he snapped.
Scorpius shook his head. “Tomorrow morning,” he pointed out, “when we don’t
come back. We will be dead by then.”
“Tonight,” Albus said, standing up and walking closer to him to show him his
hand. There was a miniature quill and a leather-bound book the size of a Knut.
“I need to enlarge this enough to write on it.”
“What the hell is it?” asked Scorpius as he narrowed his eyes to look at it.
“A D.E. Diary,” he replied impatiently.
Yes, Scorpius understood his impatience, maybe that was not the time to explain
things. “A Death Eater Diary?” he asked nonetheless, frowning.
Albus rolled his eyes. “A Double End Diary,” he told him, “they sell them in
pairs. This is Rose’s, Rose has Zabini’s. They have used them to communicate
all year. You write something on one of them and it appears on the other
diary.” He groaned and added, “I miniaturised it to fit it into my pocket and
hide it in case something didn’t work out, but they took our wands and I’m not
good at Wandless spells.”
“I’m not good either,” replied Scorpius, sighing.
Albus bit his bottom lip. “I don’t need much, just a little bit,” he said,
pushing the book and the quill in his hand.
“I’m not good…”
“Just try it!” snapped Albus. “For Lily, Scorpius…”
He looked at Albus and darkened. He was not good at Wandless spells. They
should have focused on writing something really small instead of bringing the
diary and quill back to their original sizes. Nonetheless he tried to focus. He
closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Engorgio!” he commanded.
He cracked an eye open and unsurprisingly the quill and diary had not changed
of an inch. “I told you—”
“Keep trying!” hissed Albus.
Scorpius glared at him. “Engorgio. Engorgio. Engorgio…” he kept saying the
spell over and over, and every time he did nothing happened.
“Keep try—”
“Shut up,” snapped Scorpius. “Just… let’s… let’s do it together.”
Albus looked at him as if he were either crazy or a genius. But since they
didn’t have much time – surely someone would come sooner or later – and didn’t
have any other better option, they both focused on the diary and the quill and
kept saying the incantation over and over and over, until Scorpius almost
couldn’t say the word right anymore. ‘Engiorgo’ was what was coming out of his
mouth at some point and still nothing happened.
Focus, he hissed to himself, focus for Lily! He gritted his teeth and they both
said, “Engorgio!” with a bit more passion than before, and somehow the items in
Scorpius’ hand seemed to grow bigger. Not much, but they definitely looked
bigger now. 
“We did—”
“Again!” hissed Albus.
They kept going at it until the quill was big enough for Albus to write and the
diary wide enough for him to scribble more than just a letter on each page.
Scorpius looked at the raven-haired boy as he took them back from his hand.
“Good,” Albus said nervously. “I’ll write to Rose.”
“Tell her to go and get my father,” muttered Scorpius. “Tell her he knows how
to get in here, otherwise the Aurors will never find the entrance.” He
swallowed and added, “Tell her to be quick.”
Albus nodded and opened the diary, but his eyes snapped up when they heard
steps nearing the wooden door. “Damn,” he breathed, his green eyes wide.
Scorpius stood up and pushed him roughly towards the darkest corner of the
cell. “Pretend you’re still unconscious,” he hissed as the door swung open and
Albus dropped quickly to the floor, giving them his back.
The first thing Scorpius saw was Scarlet. She was pushed inside with such force
that she fell with a choked moan of pain on the cold stones in front of the
bars. Scorpius’ breath caught in his throat as he looked at her. Her ankle
bracelet was gone, but her ankle was now tainted with a black, ghastly-looking
bruise, her hair was in disarray all over her shoulders and back, and she was
whimpering on the floor. Her dress was a triumph of wrinkles where she had
clearly been manhandled.
Scorpius grabbed the bars and looked at her. “Scarlet,” he whispered.
She pushed her hands on the floor and raised her eyes to look back at him. Her
cheeks were covered in dried and fresh tears, her eyes shining with yet new
ones. She looked terrified and betrayed. And she had all the rights to feel
like that. Scorpius had promised her that nothing bad would happen. He had
promised her that he would take care of her. And instead they had been captured
and imprisoned like idiots.
“Draco Malfoy’s son consorting with Harry Potter’s spawn,” thundered Nott as he
walked in there and came to stand near Scarlet’s shaking body. She whined
slightly and crawled away from him. “To steal something of mine.”
“Return her to her family,” hissed Scorpius, bravely looking into his eyes.
“I am her family,” snarled Nott. “And you have no business taking her away from
me.” He drew out his wand and pointed it to Scorpius, his dark eyes shone like
coals in the fire, his nostrils flared as he gritted his teeth. “You will die a
slow and painful death, and I will send your body to your—”
Scorpius gasped as Scarlet grasped Nott’s arm with her little hands. He hadn’t
even seen her moving. She tried to shift Nott’s arm from where it was directed
at Scorpius, but she had to lock both her arms around his forearm to manage to
make him budge a little bit. “No,” she cried, “please, Father, punish me…
don’t… don’t punish them…”
“Scarlet… no…” murmured Scorpius, his hands grasping the bars painfully until
his knuckles turned white.
There was laughter and it took Scorpius a fistful of seconds to understand that
it hadn’t come from Nott. He looked towards the door and saw a tall, fat man
standing there, his belly shaking with laughter.
“Goyle,” barked Nott, glaring at him for a spare second before he turned his
attention to Scarlet. He lowered his arm to shake her off and pocketed his wand
as she fell back on the floor.
Nott almost smiled as he stretched a hand to her upper arm and brought her to
her feet as if she was a doll.
“Oh, Scarlet,” he said softly, “are you in love with him, my darling?”
The most heart-wrenching thing was that she didn’t seem to hear the mockery in
his voice. She looked up at Nott as if she expected him to give her his
blessing, eyes wide with hope and shiny with tears, lips parted in
anticipation.
And she nodded softly.
It took Scorpius a few seconds to understand that she was admitting that she
loved him. She was in love with him. Him. Despite the situation, he felt his
heartbeat quicken at her admission.
“Oh, of course you are,” continued Nott, his fingers slithering in her hair and
tightening around her locks, “of course. I know dear, I can hear you saying his
name while you sleep. Do you dream of him?”
“Yes, Father,” she replied softly, nodding again.
Scorpius’ heart swelled.
Nott made her jerk her head towards Scorpius and she scrunched her eyes up and
brought her hands to her scalp, but no sound left her lips. When she opened her
eyes again, she looked at him as if she thought that everything would have been
all right now that she had told Nott about her love for him. As if surely he
would have understood, because he was her father, surely he wanted her to be
happy.
“And look at him,” whispered Nott, bringing his mouth near her ear. “Look at
his eyes. He loves you too, my dear.”
Scorpius gritted his teeth and raised his eyes to Nott. “Let her go!” he
growled, trying to shake the bars out of the way to reach him.
Nott howled with mocking laughter. “It’s like in one of your novels, isn’t it,
Scarlet?” he asked, pressing his lips to her neck, in a territorial kiss, his
other hand worming its way to her shoulder. “The witch meets her knight, and
they fall in love, and they live happily ever after.” He slid his hand from her
shoulder to her throat, and closed his fingers around her neck, squeezing until
she started to gasp for air and had to bring her own hands to his, to try to
loosen his grip. “Too bad this is not a book,” he barked, throwing her to the
floor once again.
She let out a whimper as she fell onto her back on the cold stones, but Nott
was on her before she could even try to open her eyes again. He bent and
grabbed her hair, pulling her to him again, her small hands pushed feebly at
his chest to steady herself.
In a corner Goyle sniggered.
“You are mine,” he growled, “only mine. Do you understand me?”
“Let her go!” snarled Scorpius. “Don’t touch her!”
Nott ignored him. “Do you understand me, Scarlet?” he hissed, shaking her.
She nodded frantically. “Yes, Father,” she sobbed.
Nott looked at her with narrowed eyes and Scorpius saw her lower her gaze,
unable to hold his stare. “You want to be punished in their place?” he asked
her softly but firmly.
She looked back up at him, and nodded quickly. “Yes, Father,” she sniffled. “I…
I…”
“Oh, don’t worry, Scarlet,” he whispered, brushing away her red hair from her
face, “your punishment will be theirs and theirs will be yours.”
“No!” cried Scorpius, terrified for the horrors that his words surely implied.
“No! Nott, no! It’s not… it’s not her fault. Let her go!”
Nott laughed at him. “Too late,” he hissed. He turned away, dragging Scarlet
with him, and only then Scorpius noticed that she was limping, her cursed ankle
probably still hurting her. “Goyle,” he called, “get the Malfoy boy.”
“What about Potter’s spawn?” he asked, looking inside the cell at Albus’ still
body.
“We’ll get him later,” replied Nott icily. “First, I want to have fun with the
lovebirds in the playroom.” And with that he dragged Scarlet away.
Scorpius glanced at Albus and hoped fervently that the son of the Head Auror
managed to contact his cousin.
Then Goyle opened the cell and pointed his wand at Scorpius, intimating that he
walk out of there.
***
Rose glanced at Hugo. He was snoring loudly on the biggest couch of the Common
Room, his lips were slightly parted and drool was dribbling down the corner of
his mouth.
He looked so peaceful and oblivious.
Well, of course he looked like that. He was peaceful and oblivious.
He had no idea.
Rose hadn’t told him. Albus had been adamant, no telling to anybody at all.
Only if he wrote to her. And if Albus wrote, it meant that something had gone
terribly wrong and that they needed help. That, or that Malfoy was full of
rubbish and she could go to bed.
Because in that case, the girl Malfoy had talked to Albus about was not Lily.
The Slytherin had never found any missing person before, let alone one that was
missing for six years. How could he now?
Albus had just trusted him too quickly and too easily.
But… but if she were… Lily… her cousin… then…
Rose remembered seeing her at King’s Cross just the week before she had been
taken. Rose had promised to write to her. Every week. Promised to tell her
everything, and go to Grimmauld Place for the winter holidays.
She certainly hadn’t expected to be pulled out of school only ten days after
that, by her upset parents who kept telling her and Hugo that they were going
to find Lily soon. Soon, they just had to wait… And instead days had turned
into weeks, and weeks had slid into months. Finally, months had become years
and Lily had never been found. Hope had slowly and silently been lost to their
family, and now the only person who still believed that one day Lily would
sleep in her old bedroom at Grimmauld Place again, was Auntie Ginny.
And now Albus.
And maybe Rose.
And somehow Malfoy.
Suddenly, the couch vibrated and Rose’s head jerked towards the diary so fast
her curls whipped her eyes almost painfully. On the leather cover of the diary
the word ‘Message’ had appeared, and it was flashing insistently in bright
white light.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Albus just wanted to let her know that it was
another dead end. They had found lots – well, the Aurors had. Maybe they were
not in danger. Maybe they… maybe… maybe…
Rose swallowed and picked up the diary. She finally opened it, and noticed that
her hands were shaking.
Albus was still writing because words were continuously appearing.
But the first line made her heart stop beating.
                             [DE Diary Number 1.2]
She gasped so loudly that it was a miracle Hugo didn’t wake up.
Rose—It is Lily. Lily. Lily. Lily. She kept reading her name over and over
again, without being able to believe it.
Lily. It was Lily. It was her. Lily. Lily. Lily…
She lowered her eyes as the message was completed.
                             [DE Diary Number 1.2]
Later, Rose knew that she should have reacted much quicker to those words.
Later, she knew that she should have sprinted from the Common Room and found
the Headmistress. Later…
Right at that moment, though, she could feel her heart beating painfully in her
chest, and her hands shaking and fingers going numb, every muscle in her body
was petrified with fear and her mouth was suddenly dry.
All she could think about was Lily. That she was alive. That Scorpius Malfoy
had found her. In a brothel.
That… Rose’s eyes widened as she stared at the dying fire.
That someone wanted to kill them!
Rose gasped once again as those words finally sunk into her brain, and once
again she was surprised when Hugo didn’t even stir. She stood up from the
armchair and went to her brother. Her hand surely grabbed him much more
forcefully than she had intended.
“Hugo,” she called him, shaking him awake. “Hugo!”
“Bloody hell… Rose…” he replied sleepily.
“Get up,” she hurried to say, already walking away. “Let’s go.”
He pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes, yawning noisily.
“Go? Go where? It’s the middle of the night.”
“To see Professor McGonagall,” she said, clutching the diary at her chest as
she waited for the portrait hole to swing open. She turned to look at him and
pressed her lips together. “They found Lily,” she whispered and then stepped
out of the Common Room.
***
Goyle’s wand dug painfully into Scorpius’ back. “Inside,” he hissed as he poked
Scorpius until he passed the threshold into the brightly lit room.
The playroom.
The infamous playroom was one of the most unnerving places Scorpius had ever
seen.
It looked like a particularly nefarious interrogation room from the Spanish
Inquisition.
In addition to the chains on the walls, the sadistic-looking torture devices in
the middle of the room, and the cages that hung from the ceiling, the room was
also pervaded with the sour and metallic stench of blood and other undefined
bodily fluids.
He felt sick at the very thought that some of the blood and fluids might have
been Scarlet’s. They certainly were hers. She must have been tortured in there
by Nott more times than he surely wanted to know.
Scarlet whimpered softly as Nott dragged her inside. His big hand was
constricting her upper arm to the point that most of her limb was turning
purple for the lack of circulation. Her black ankle must have hurt her beyond
words, because she almost didn’t seem able to stand when Nott let her go to
unfasten his cloak.
“Shall I tie the Malfoy boy up?” asked Goyle, pressing the wand in Scorpius’
back.
Nott grabbed Scarlet’s wrist and dragged her forcefully towards a tall table.
“Make him sit there,” he said calmly, nodding towards a wooden chair with a
tall back and two wide armrests. “Turn the chair in this direction. Good. Then
bind him to the seat. Something nice and strong, Goyle, we don’t want our dear
boy to interrupt us while we are having fun.”
Goyle snorted as he grabbed Scorpius’ arm and pushed him unceremoniously onto
the chair. The boy landed on the hard wood and swallowed a whimper as he could
feel some invisible force wrapping around his forearms and binding him to the
armrests.
He heard Goyle’s howling laughter die out as he stepped back and went to close
the door, and Scorpius raised his eyes to look in front of him. Scarlet was
looking back at him, her lips parted and trembling, her eyes still shiny with
tears. Her whole body quivered like a leaf in the wind as she stared at him and
grabbed the table for support. She looked worried, and somehow Scorpius knew
that she wasn’t worried for herself, even though she was the one that Nott was
going to punish first. He gritted his teeth. No. They were going to be punished
together, because whatever that horrible man would do to Scarlet, Scorpius
would suffer as if it was being done to him as well.
“Who do you think I shall discipline first, Scarlet?” Nott asked her almost
conversationally. Surely he just wanted to hear her beg for her punishment
again, because Scorpius was already tied securely to the chair.
She turned her head quickly towards him. “Me, Father, please,” she begged,
sobbing loudly. “Don’t hurt him, please…” She fell to her knees and tried to
hug his legs pleadingly, but Nott grabbed her hair and brought her back to her
feet. “Oh,” he said softly, tilting her head back to gaze into her eyes.
“You’ll be the first to receive a real punishment, but don’t think even for a
second that I won’t discipline him as well.”
She whimpered as if the promise to punish Scorpius scared her more than the
promise of the pain of her impending torture. Scorpius’ heart clenched at that,
his hands writhed on the armrests and he could feel the invisible bonds dig
painfully into his arm.
“Let her go,” he hissed. “Don’t touch her… I… I’m going to kill you if… if you
harm a hair on her head…”
Nott finally looked at him and smirked with such malice, that Scorpius’ heart
started to beat furiously in his chest at the realisation that no pleads or
threats would stop the man.
“Tell him, Scarlet,” he said, his eyes still on Scorpius. “Tell him what I do
to you in this room…”
She let out a heart-rending moan and tried to push her face into Nott’s chest,
in a vain attempt to find comfort in him, but he grabbed her neck and made her
turn. “Tell him,” he snarled. “Look at him and tell him.”
She looked as if she was on the verge of tears, once again, as she looked at
Scorpius with desperation and humiliation painted on her beautiful face.
“Tell him,” hissed Nott, shaking her.
She took little gulps of air as if she was trying to push back the tears
without really managing. “You… you…” she stammered, but didn’t seem able to
continue.
“I do what?” hissed Nott. “Tell him, Scarlet.”
“You…” she sobbed.
“I fuck you in the arse,” he hissed, bringing down a hand to knead her buttock
harshly, making her whimper. “Tell him, damn you stupid girl!”
“You… you fuck me… in the arse,” she choked out between sobs, her eyes lowering
to the floor.
Scorpius gritted his teeth and he couldn’t help noticing how those harsh words
had no business on her lips. “Let her go,” he snarled, trying to slip free from
the invisible restraints. “Let her go, Nott! Let her go or I swear I’m going to
kill you as soon as you untie me. I don’t even need a wand to do that… Just let
her go!”
Nott sniggered and ignored his vain threats altogether. “Then what else do I do
to you?” he asked sweetly to Scarlet. “Tell him,” he whispered. “I want you to
look into his eyes and tell him what I like to do to you.”
She was crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You like to… you like
to…” she sniffled.
“What?” he hissed. “I like to what?”
“You like to… to whip me…”
Nott laughed and licked the tears from her cheek, making her shiver. “That’s
right,” he whispered. “I like to whip you until you bleed, right?”
She nodded and sniffled.
“Good,” he hissed, pushing her away.
She had to grasp the table at the last moment not to end up on the floor for
the third time, a whimper left her lips as she placed her black foot on the
floor.
“Undress, Scarlet.”
Her bottom lip quivered even more. “Father…” she said in such a heart-breaking
tone that, Scorpius was sure, the Dark Lord himself would have had pity on her.
“Undress,” he barked, and Scorpius watched as she gasped and hurried to comply.
“Good,” he said again, as her white dress fell to the floor and she turned to
give Scorpius her side, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Let’s play a little
game, shall we?”
He was answered only by Goyle’s nasty laughter.
“I’m going to fuck you in the arse,” he said almost conversationally, licking
his lips, “and while I do, you are to keep your eyes open and on the Malfoy
boy.” He looked at Scorpius, and added, “And he has to look back at you.”
“You are a sick bastard,” hissed Scorpius, writhing in the chair.
“If either one of you looks away or closes their eyes,” he continued,
unbuttoning his trousers, “I’m going to stop and give her ten lashes.” He
grabbed her forearm and made her turn her smooth, naked back to Scorpius. “Ten
lashes on her beautiful back…” he murmured, tracing her skin with his fingers
and making her whimper. “Uh, you hurt already, don’t you?” he smirked.
She didn’t reply, but her body was shaken with sobs. He turned her around. She
was completely naked, and her arms went to cover herself as best as she could,
when Nott made her face Scorpius.
For the first time in years, Scorpius felt the urge to cry.
For the first time in his life, he felt the urge to cry for someone who was not
himself.
“Don’t be shy, Scarlet,” hissed Nott, as he grabbed her waist and dragged her
behind the table, making her face Scorpius the whole time, and positioned her
body with her upper thighs against the rough edge. He raised his eyes and
looked at the blond boy. “Have you ever even seen her naked?” he asked him
scornfully. “I know you’ve never fucked her, Malfoy, but did you at least have
her suck you or jerk you off without clothes? Or are you really that much of a
pussy?”
Scorpius could almost feel the rage boil in his veins. Weirdly enough though,
he didn’t care for his words. All he cared about was Scarlet, and the fact that
she was about to be punished because of him. Why hadn’t they called the Aurors?
Why had he been that stubborn? If they had… maybe… “Don’t touch her,” he tried
to hiss, but his voice was much feebler than he had intended. “I swear Nott, if
you touch her…”
“Hands on the table, Scarlet,” he hissed, “you know where.”
She lowered her eyes, and flushed, as she placed her shaking palms on the
table, her shoulders hunching slightly as she positioned them below her
breasts. Suddenly, two thick leather handcuffs secured themselves around her
wrists, which in turn secured her wrists to the table.
“Good,” murmured Nott, as he started to stroke his cock to life. He grabbed his
wand and pointed it towards Scorpius. For a moment he thought that he was going
to spell his eyes open or his head into position, but then a silver light left
the tip of his wand and Scorpius felt the spell hit the wall at his back.
He turned his head and managed to see the wall behind him ripple in little
waves, the rocks disappearing as the surface was transformed into a mirror.
Of course. To see if Scarlet looked away.
Scorpius turned his head and stared at Lily. She was slightly bent over the
table and secured there. She was shaking like a leaf, her breasts quivering,
her eyes shining, and her mouth wide with trembling lips. She whimpered
pitifully when Nott grabbed her hip with a large, rough hand.
Scorpius thrashed his arms, again, on the armrests. His heart was racing in his
chest.
Nott looked at him and smirked, “Ready to play?”
Chapter End Notes
     PLEASE, BE AWARE THAT NEXT CHAPTER IS VERY GRAPHIC.
***** Chapter XX *****
Chapter Notes
     THIS CHAPTER'S CONTENT IS EXTREMELY GRAPHIC. SCENE THREE AND FIVE IN
     PARTICULAR. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.
                                      ***
"What are you still doing here?" asked Ron, with a small smile on his lips. He
crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head as he stared at his
brother-in-law.
Harry raised his eyes to look at him and smiled back tiredly. “I’m about to go
home,” he replied softly, “I was just looking at the report on Fred’s case.”
Ron snorted quietly. “You know what I think about it, don’t you?”
“I heard you talking to George the other day,” chuckled Harry, closing the
report and leaning against the back of his chair. “I couldn’t remember you two
quarrelling like that in quite a while.”
Ron shook his head. “George is as stubborn as an ass, sometimes.” He rolled his
eyes as he noticed Harry’s meaningful stare. “Okay, I can be too,” he admitted,
“but come on, Harry, you know Fred, don’t you? I’m sure that he just misplaced
the money and can’t remember where he put it.”
Harry shrugged a shoulder. “Well, you know there are thousands of ways for
someone to—”
But Ron never got to hear any of those ways because the door burst open, and
Teddy strode into the Head Auror’s office, looking from Harry to Ron with
apprehension. “Harry, Ron,” he said nervously, “there’s a Floo Call from
Hogwarts.”
Ron felt his heart stop. A Floo Call from Hogwarts? At that time of the night?
That meant only bad news and his children and nephew were all still at
Hogwarts.
“What?” asked Harry, standing up at once.
“It’s McGonagall,” said Teddy throatily.
“What… what happened?” asked Ron, turning to look at him. “Is everything
alright? Are the children okay?”
Teddy swallowed, his hair changing from blue to silver, apparently without him
noticing. “She wants to talk to you, she wouldn’t say why,” he continued, “she
said it’s urgent.”
“Well, get the call through my fireplace,” said Harry quickly.
Teddy nodded and disappeared out of the office. Ron looked at Harry. His best-
friend was so pale his eyes seemed darker than usual as they stood in contrast
with his skin. “I’m sure everything is fine,” he tried to murmur. The last time
someone had Floo Called them urgently nothing had been fine; it had been his
mother and Lily had been taken away. But this was different, they were at
school, nothing bad could have befallen his children or his nephew.
Suddenly the fireplace sparkled with green flames and Professor McGonagall’s
face appeared amongst them. Her usually primly styled hair was a disarray of
white locks all around her head, her face looked more wrinkly than usual, and
despite seeming quite sleep-deprived, she was staring from behind her lunettes
with wide eyes.
“Professor McGonagall,” said Harry, hurrying towards the fireplace. “Is
everything okay?”
She raised her eyes to look from Harry to Ron. “Potter, Weasley,” she muttered,
“I… we… two students… We…” Her voice trailed away, and she seemed to be at a
loss of words as her eyes wandered wildly from the room. Suddenly, she turned
her head and they heard her saying, “Miss Weasley, tell them, show them the
diary.” And she disappeared without another word to them.
For a moment Ron groaned inwardly at the mention of Rose… and a diary? Was that
another cursed journal? Did people never learn? Were there more Horcruxes? Was
history going to repeat itself? What was going on?
Rose’s head appeared where McGonagall’s had been until a few seconds before.
“Rosie,” said Ron urgently, “what… what’s happening? What’s wrong? Are you
alright? Is Hugo alright?”
Rose looked from him to her uncle, her lips moving as if she was trying to form
words, but no sound came out of her mouth.
“Rose, what’s wrong?” Harry urged her as well.
“I… I…” She closed her mouth and swallowed, probably trying to find the courage
to explain herself. “Dad, Uncle Harry… Al and Scorpius Malfoy…”
“What?” asked Harry, kneeling in front of her face. “What Rose?”
“They found Lily,” she finally breathed.
For a moment, everything was quiet.
For a moment, time seemed to stop.
For a moment, Ron didn’t feel the urge to breath.
The words he had waited to hear for the past six and a half years had been
spoken, but somehow he had never expected to hear them coming from his own
daughter’s mouth. He expected it to be Ginny or Harry to say them, maybe as
they burst into his house in the middle of the night with grins upon their
faces or tears of joy streaming down their cheeks. However, that was not what
had happened.
Nevertheless, it didn’t matter.
Lily had been found.
He turned to look at Harry and saw that he was as still as a statue. His face
petrified in the most stunned expression he had ever seen him wearing. He
seemed to have no air left in his lungs, nor the ability to control his stiff
muscles.
Then, suddenly, a tear, a shining, wet tear, traced his cheek and caught in the
corner of his mouth.
“You have to hurry,” said Rose urgently from the fireplace, “they want to kill
them.”
“What?” asked Ron, jerking his head to look at his daughter. “What are you
talking about? What… what’s happening Rose?”
Harry  took a sharp breath. He looked at Rose with wide eyes, waiting for her
to tell them everything. “Rose what’s happening?” he asked, brushing the tear
away with force.
She fumbled with something, and suddenly she was handing them a leather bound
book through the flames. “Malfoy… Malfoy found her,” she said, “in a brothel.
Nott & Goyle ltd. That’s what it's called. He… he said he never touched her,
and she doesn’t remember anything, but Al said… he said it’s her…”
Harry opened the diary and there, clear as day, was Albus’ handwriting. Telling
Rose to alert the Aurors and tell them to call Draco Malfoy, and then to go to
Nott & Goyle, and finally to hurry because they were probably going to get
killed.
“Nott…” murmured Harry transfixed. “Theodore Nott and Goyle… Gregory Goyle…” He
raised his eyes on Ron. “We… we questioned them when Lily disappeared… they
were amongst the suspects…”
Ron nodded, before looking back at Rose. “Rose,” he said firmly, “tell
McGonagall not to contact Aunt Ginny or Grandma or Mum or anybody, do you
understand? Not until we do.”
She nodded quickly, probably at a loss of words.
“Okay,” he said, his mouth dry. “Let’s go, Harry,” he added, helping him up.
“We need to go to Wiltshire.”
***
Harry had forgotten he owned a wand, and that said wand was in his pocket right
at that moment. He had forgotten he even knew how to do magic, as he grabbed
Draco Malfoy’s nightgown and harshly pushed his shaking body against the wall
of the entrance hall of his Manor.
The mass of Aurors and Auror Trainees crowded around them.
“How do you get into Nott & Goyle?” snarled Harry.
The house-elf that had opened the door to the Aurors was squealing in a corner,
while Astoria Malfoy was standing there in her nightgown as well, with her
hands clasped on her mouth.
“I don’t even know what—”
“Don’teven try it, Malfoy,” hissed Ron. “Albus said that we had to ask you,
that you knew!”
Malfoy swallowed, and Harry could feel the movement of his throat against his
knuckles. “I don’t even know why Potter’s son would—”
“Your son is there right now,” snapped Harry. “They are going to kill him.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Potter?” asked Malfoy, his voice nervous
and fearful at the same time. His wife let out a whiny gasp.
“They are there,” snarled Harry, “they have my daughter there! My son and your
son went on some kind of expedition to save her.” He pushed Malfoy up against
the wall, until he was standing on tiptoes. “Tell me how to get in there,
Malfoy, or I swear you’re going to rot in Azkaban for the rest of your life.”
“I’ll tell you,” said Astoria hastily, going to stand next to her husband
without even looking at him. “I’ll tell you. I remember what Draco told
Scorpius the first time he went there…” She swallowed and her eyes filled with
tears. “Please, don’t let anything happen to my son…”
Harry looked at her and pressed his lips together. “I’ll try very hard,” he
muttered.
***
Nott closed his fingers around the base of his erection and moved it up and
down the cleft of Scarlet’s arse. She squirmed and he could actually see her
minuscule ring becoming almost invisible as she involuntarily contracted her
muscles and, at the same time, tried to worm away from him without really
managing. He had taken her arse so many times, and yet she was still as tight
as a virgin. He shuddered in anticipation at the snugness of the hole that was
waiting to be filled.
“I usually use something, don’t I?” he murmured distractedly, as he probed her
hole with the tip of his member. “Lube or your saliva or some of your juices.”
He leant his erection on her buttock and brought his hand to her cunt, pushing
a finger into her and making her squirm. “Too bad you’re as dry as the desert
today,” he murmured, before lowering over her until his lower abdomen was
pressing against her arse and his cock was trapped between their bodies, her
elbows bent a little under his weight. “I’m not even going to stretch you, not
even going to prepare you,” he whispered into her ear.
She sobbed out loud and shook, her muscles shaking under him. He grabbed her
hair and pulled her head back. “You better keep your eyes on him, Scarlet,” he
said, straightening up. “You better look into his eyes as I fuck you.”
He grabbed his member again and lined it up with her rear entrance. He was not
sure that he would fit, or even that he would be able to slip inside at all.
And he was slightly worried that it might hurt him too. Pain was not a bad
thing during sex, but only when his partner was the one who suffered. He
brought his free hand to his mouth and spat on it before coating his erection
with his saliva. It wasn’t much, but at least he would be able to slip inside
of her a bit more easily.
“Nott!” whined the Malfoy boy. “Don’t! Don’t! Please…”
Nott laughed at him, delighting in the fact that he had managed to make him
plead. “Eyes on her, Malfoy,” he hissed as he pushed forward.
She was tight. She was unbearably tight. Unprepared, unstretched, unlubed. She
was almost painful around him. But Nott gritted his teeth, and with the
knowledge that she must have felt the sting ten times more strongly than
himself, he kept pushing into her.
She sobbed and screamed and writhed, and her legs gave way as her flat belly
collapsed on the table underneath her. Her muscles were twitching against his
stomach as he managed to push half of the head inside.
She was warm and tight and, despite the slight sting given by the taut ring of
muscles that didn’t want to loosen around him, she felt divine. “Keep looking
into his eyes,” he panted as he pushed further into her.
She screamed again, but he didn’t stop. He had Transfigured a wall into a
mirror to keep an eye on her, but at that very moment he wasn’t even looking to
see if she had her eyes open and on the boy, or vice versa. He was entranced by
the view of her puckered, little hole swallowing his cock with greed.
He tried to push a bit more, but she let out a strangled moan and attempted to
worm her legs away. Her feet slid pathetically on the floor, though, and she
only managed to hurt herself by hitting her pelvis against the table.
“Relax,” he snapped. “You are almost hurting me.”
She took a sharp gulp of air and quivered, her arsehole pulsing as if she was
either trying to push him out or pull him in. Either way, her twitching walls
of muscles were a delight around him.
He rolled his eyes in pleasure and pushed more forcefully into her, the head of
his cock finally breaching past the puckered ring. The room filled with her
cries again, and somehow her screams of pain went straight to his lower
abdomen, duplicating the pleasure.
He grunted and finally focused his eyes to look at her reflection. To his
delight her eyes were wide and gaping almost blankly in front of her. He
lowered his gaze on Malfoy and found him as white as a ghost, his blond hair
was matted with perspiration and he looked like he was unable to breathe.
What a pathetic sight he made.
Nott smirked as he grasped Scarlet’s waist and brought his eyes back on her
reflection. “Here I come,” he whispered as he pushed mercilessly all the way
inside of her. He stopped only when his balls slapped against her cunt and her
eyes scrunched up in pain.
“Uh-oh, Scarlet,” said Goyle in a sing-song voice, “you closed your eyes, baby
girl.”
Nott raised a hand and spanked her buttock hard. “Bloody hell,” he hissed, “now
that I managed to bury myself balls deep into your fine arse?” He grasped her
waist and pulled out a little, only to push back in with more ferociousness,
making her shake and cry out from under him. “What am I going to do with you,
Scarlet?” he growled. “Can you feel how hard I am? Can you feel how hard you
make me?” He spanked her again, and she tried to push her feet on the floor to
worm away, but once more her legs quivered and she slipped, whining as she fell
on the table again.
“Nott,” said Goyle placidly, “you better whip her good.”
Nott glared at him. It was not his place to suggest to him what to do with her.
She was his, and only his, and he was to use her as he pleased. Nevertheless,
Goyle was right, he had to postpone his pleasure to do as he had promised. He
would lose her respect if he didn’t keep his promises. He dug his fingers into
her hips and pulled back, feeling her tight hole squeezing almost painfully
once again around his length. He let out a grunt as his cock popped out of her
arse with a lewd sound.
She was still shaking and he stared as she leant her head down on the table,
her tears pooling under her face.
“Now, now,” said Nott, walking around to reach for her hands, his erection
painfully hard between his legs. “Don’t get too comfortable, Scarlet. Time for
your whipping.”
“Don’t touch her,” groaned Malfoy, “don’t you dare… don’t… don’t you dare…”
Nott didn’t even look at him. “Look who’s found his voice,” he said
distractedly, grabbing his wand and pointing it at her hands. He murmured a
spell and her wrists were yanked from the table up into the air.
She gasped and screamed as every muscle in her body was stretched and pulled
upwards. Her wrists were secured in the air, by an invisible force, and she was
brought forward, her feet sliding on the floor, until she was standing on
tiptoes in the middle of the room, only a few feet from Malfoy.
“I hope you have a strong stomach, Malfoy,” said Nott, as he picked his
favourite whip from the wall. A thin, long string of leather that painted the
skin with delightful strokes. “I’d hate to have to vanish vomit from my floor.”
He rolled the long, black tool around his hand before he made it crack on the
floor.
Scarlet turned to look at him, her face a mask of horror and fear. She tried to
move, but the spell on her handcuffs had her hands exactly where Nott wanted
them, and she couldn’t do much but scamper about hopelessly.
“I want you to count out loud,” he said, looking at Malfoy, “and you better do
it right.” He walked behind Scarlet and pushed her long hair to her front.
“Because if you don’t, I’m going to start over.” He cracked the whip another
time on the floor and Scarlet tried to wriggle. “Stay still, silly girl,” he
thundered. “I want to see if I can draw a nice pattern on your back before you
start to bleed.”
He raised the whip, and finally brought it down expertly on Scarlet. The first
lash went from hipbone to hipbone. She screamed, arching her back and
stiffening her muscles as her knees buckled forward.
Nott looked over her shoulder at Malfoy. The boy looked on the verge of
fainting. Of course, Malfoy’s spawn, just as weak as his father. His eyes were
glued to Scarlet as she sobbed quietly. “Malfoy,” he said with a growl.
The boy looked up at him, eyes wide. “One,” he breathed, his hands grasping the
armrests.
Nott smirked. “Don’t get distracted by the bounce of her breasts,” he hissed.
“Aren't they nice?” He walked closer to her and pressed himself against her
back, making her whimper. He brought a hand to her breast and kneaded it
forcefully. “They are, aren’t they?” he whispered.
Malfoy didn’t reply, and Nott just laughed at him.
He stepped back and raised the whip another time, then another and another, in
quick succession. She tried to cry, but every time a new lash blew on her skin
she had no time to recover before another followed. And then another and
another.
Malfoy struggled to keep up with the count. “…five, six…” he breathed, his
voice choked.
Nott smirked as he looked at the blooming red stripes on her back. “Oh, I can’t
wait for you to see it, Malfoy,” he sneered, “a masterpiece.”
Scarlet had her face hidden in her hair by now, her nose pushed into her arm,
and she was crying so much that the tears were falling on the floor like
raindrops.
Nott sniggered. He raised the whip and brought it down again, between her
shoulder blades. She pushed herself forward and cried as Malfoy counted,
“Seven,” with a voice that seemed to come from the hereafter.
“Right,” said Nott, as he stroked his cock impatiently, “let’s move this
along.” He whipped her two more times and took his time with the last lash,
placing it on her hip, right where his fingers would dig as he pushed into her.
“Ten,” Malfoy choked out as Scarlet stopped sobbing and let the handcuffs
support all her weight, her legs too weak to do it.
“Well done, Malfoy,” snickered Nott, “now we can go back to what we had to
interrupt.” He pointed his wand at her wrists again and she was dragged back to
the table, secured there once again. She lay down now though, her eyes closed
as she breathed with difficulty.
“What a drama queen you are,” snapped Nott, positioning behind her and spanking
her buttock. “I didn’t even draw blood.”
She whimpered far more feebly than he would have liked as he grabbed her long
hair and rolled it in his hand. “I’ll give you a hand,” he said, raising her
head to make her look back at Malfoy. “Don’t close your eyes this time,
Scarlet.” He laughed. “Not before I come, at least.”
He steadied himself by leaning the hand wrapped in her crimson locks on her
back, and she cried out, his other hand went to his cock as he stared at her
arsehole again. “Oh Merlin,” he grunted, “you’re still so tight, not even
gaping…”
But he was tired of waiting, and he just needed to come inside of her. He
positioned himself and pushed. He pushed and pushed and pushed, slowly but
steadily, until he was completely sheathed inside of her once more.
She almost didn’t even cry out, but when he slapped his pelvis against her
arse, she let out a loud sob and her eyes filled with fresh tears. He raised
his eyes to look at her reflection, and at Malfoy.
They were looking at each other. Scarlet probably not seeing anything from
behind her glassy eyes, and Malfoy probably not wanting to see. But they were
obediently looking at each other.
He smirked as he grasped her hip, right where he had laid the last lash, and
started to pull slowly out of her. “You’re too tight, damn you,” he growled,
“too tight, how am I supposed to fuck you…” He kept pulling out until only the
head was inside and then pushed back in, feeling every inch of her snug walls
enveloping him like a fist.
“Need help?” sniggered Goyle.
Nott raised his eyes to look at him. He had a hand down his robes, and his
trousers were already tenting, as he moved his fist furiously up and down his
shaft.
He smirked back. “No,” he panted, “everything is under control.” He pulled out
again and then pushed back in, and then again and again, until he started to
feel her hole beginning to accommodate him. She was almost not moving anymore,
but her muscles were twitching involuntarily and soft whimpers were leaving her
lips every now and then.
When her taut ring of muscles loosened enough, he started to increase the tempo
of his thrusting. In and out, in and out, in and out, until his balls were
slapping loudly against her cunt and his fingers were digging into her skin.
“She’s closing her eyes, Nott,” sneered Goyle.
Nott tugged her hair forcefully. “Not yet,” he grunted as he drove into her
with vicious force. She started to whimper every time he pushed hard into her,
and he pushed harder and harder, just to hear her moan in pain.
“Yes,” he groaned, “yes, yes… keep it up… moan for me… little whore…”
Apart from her whines, the only other sound in the room was the furious
slapping of his pelvis against her arse. “Oh, fuck,” he finally grunted. He
felt the familiar pull of his balls as he reached his orgasm. He didn’t fight
it, he just increased his tempo until he finally felt his cock pulsing, and his
seed coated her walls. He gritted his teeth and buried himself to the point
where she was pushed onto the table, her tiny feet raising from the floor. As
the last spurts of his semen left his softening member, he collapsed on her
battered back and she finally screamed again.
But that was not what he needed now, and he pushed a hand over her mouth to
stop the unwelcomed sound. She gasped against his palm as he licked her salty
cheek and traced the marks of her whipping with his fingers.
“So fucking good,” he murmured into her ear.
“She closed her eyes,” Goyle reminded him, brushing his hand, covered in his
own come, over his robes.
Nott groaned. “It tires my hand to whip her,” he almost complained, pushing his
hands on the table near her and finally pulling all the way out, his member
popped out and come oozed down from her arsehole down to her cunt.
“Can I do it?” asked Goyle excitedly, his beady, dark eyes shining with
excitement.
Nott shook his head and glared at him. “Not tonight,” he told him. “Tonight
she’s all mine.” He didn’t bother to put his flaccid member back inside his
trousers as he pressed two fingers into her arsehole and coated the ring of
muscles with his semen. “There you go,” he said gingerly, “all lubed up for
round two.” He grabbed her hair and tilted her head back. “Thank Uncle Greg,
who reminded your father that you closed your eyes,” he whispered to her.
She whined and writhed under him, her eyes filling again with tears. How many
could she shed before her eyes ran dry?
“Scarlet!” he snarled. “Be polite!”
She sobbed loudly. “Th-thank you… thank you, Uncle Gregory…” she sniffled.
“You’re welcome, my dear,” sneered Goyle.
Nott smirked and patted her back, making her howl in pain. “Okay,” he said,
leisurely pushing his member between her arse cheeks. “Let’s get on with the
other ten lashes, before I feel the urge to fuck you again…”
***
The most nauseating thing about the whole business was that Nott & Goyle ltd.
was only a short walk from the Ministry. Ron felt sick at the very thought that
his niece, his belovedlittle niece, had been there all that time. Only a few
feet from their offices. So close. So well hidden.
It was so incredibly maddening.
Ron turned to look at the crowd of Aurors as they climbed up the few steps that
brought to the main door of the Nott & Goyle building. Harry was in the front,
leading the team, and Ron could see his hands balled into fists at his sides,
one of them tightly wrapped around his wand. He took a deep breath before he
pushed the main door open.
They all walked inside and stared in disbelief.
“What the hell?” muttered Ron as the employees of the firm kept walking around
and working, completely ignoring them. Them. A crowd of Aurors in Ministry
uniforms, with their wands raised, who were waiting for their boss to give them
an order before shooting dangerous spells. “What the hell is wrong with them?”
grunted Ron. “Who works in an office at this time of night anyway?”
“Nobody,” replied Harry firmly, as he closed his hand around the tiny wrist of
a woman who walked past him. The woman looked at him fearfully and started to
squeal, eyes wide and getting impossibly wider. Harry pointed his wand at her
and muttered, “Finite Incantatem.” To Ron’s horror the woman squealed even
louder and started to shake, her body shrinking and changing colour, until she
fell onto the floor, and screamed once more, as she turned into a house-elf
with a nose as big as a potato and huge, bulging eyes.
“Damn,” muttered Ron. He looked around himself and noticed how all the other
house-elves, disguised with human features, were now finally looking at them.
Petrified with fear.
“Lock the door,” ordered Harry. “Don’t let a single one of them get out.” He
nodded towards a desk, where a woman was sitting and looking at them with eyes
wide.
“Let’s go,” said Ron, as they walked to her.
She put on a nervous and cold smile. “Good evening, Sirs,” she said with fake
courtesy. “How may I help you?”
“Open the door,” said Harry icily.
The woman smiled again. “I’m sorry, Sir, but I’m afraid I don’t know what you
are talking about.”
“I think you do,” replied Ron frostily. “Open the door, or you’ll get the
Dementor’s Kiss before you get a trial.”
She swallowed, and lowered her eyes. “I… I’m just an employee, Sir,” she
murmured, but Ron’s threat had been enough, and a door appeared on the wall at
her left.
Harry looked at it and took a deep breath, his face darkening as he stared
resolutely at the passage. Instead of walking straight there, though, the Head
Auror turned and stared at the crowd. The Aurors looked like they were just
waiting for him to give them the order to kill anything that moved, and they
would have happily complied.
“Ward the place,” he said tightly. “Not a single person, or house-elf, or any
other creature, is to leave this building without an Auror knowing. Arrest
everyone and everything, and bring them to the Ministry for questioning. Nobody
is to be let go, without my permission.”
There was a series of murmured agreements, and people bobbing their heads up
and down, wands at the ready.
Harry nodded back at them. “James,” he said, looking at his son, “you stay here
with Bran and Jason, and start transforming those house-elves back.” He looked
at Teddy, and finally at Ron. “Let’s go,” he breathed, his voice thick with
emotion.
***
“…eight…” sobbed Scorpius.
Yes, he sobbed it; and he was not even ashamed of that.
This was madness.
Nott was completely out of his mind.
And he was pure evil.
Scarlet’s head was lolling on her neck, her eyes were only barely open, her
body was stretched uncomfortably, and she was able to stand only thanks to the
invisible force that kept her wrists up in the air.
It was the third whipping in less than an hour, and this time it had been all
Scorpius’ fault.
He couldn't endure looking into her glassy eyes any longer. He couldn't keep
watching as Nott pushed into her over and over again, as he pressed himself
against her back, his white shirt soaked with her blood. As he howled while his
orgasm rolled through his body once more, and as his come dripped from her legs
and onto the floor. It was either looking away from her, or throwing up. He
should have kept his eyes on her, he knew that. He should have thrown up,
without turning his head. Now she had to suffer more for his weakness.
And Nott had noticed it straight away. Almost laughed at him. He had pulled out
of her, hung her cuffs to the invisible hook off the ceiling, and was whipping
her brutally now. Almost more forcefully than before. Surely more forcefully
than before, because blood was spattering on the floor and on his robes now.
Scorpius himself was splattered with some of it; such was the projectile force
of Nott's lashes.
And Lily was whimpering only slightly now. Her forces abandoning her more every
second. She didn’t seem able to sustain her weight by herself, and Scorpius
could see her wrists were bruised where the handcuffs chafed her skin
mercilessly. Her ankle was still a horrible black colour, and she seemed to
whimper every time she tried to put some pressure on it.
And Scorpius was counting, his voice a breathy murmur as he counted the lashes
one after the other. But Nott was slow, and he was taking his time now, leading
her to believe that he might stop her torture before he reached the ten lashes,
that he was not as horrible as he wanted them to think.
But he was. No. He was ten times worse than that.
“Are you counting, Malfoy?” he asked, as he wiped some blood from his cheek
after the last, particularly vicious, lash.
“Eight,” he choked out, his voice weak.
Nott nodded and smirked. “Good job,” he said, “good job, boy. I might almost
reward you, and switch her place with yours.”
Scorpius nodded and swallowed. “Please,” he shamelessly pleaded. “Please, do
it…”
Nott pressed himself against her back, and moved her hair out of the way, to
kiss her cheek. His eyes on Scorpius. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he
whispered. “Take her place, suffer for her. Be her knight in shining armour.”
He sneered. “Instead, you are the one comfortably sitting on that chair while
she is being punished for your bravado.” He kissed her again, and added, “I
hope this is a lesson for everybody.”
He stepped back, and whipped her twice in quick succession. Scorpius gasped
softly and had to hurry to say, “Nine, ten,” as she writhed in the restraints,
without letting out more than a subtle sob.
Nott threw the whip on the floor and walked back to her, he pressed his chest
to her back again, the blood colouring his shirt even more. He grabbed her chin
and turned her head delicately towards himself. “Are you tired, Scarlet?” he
asked almost gently.
Her half-opened eyes lowered slowly, as if even that movement was difficult for
her. She nodded almost imperceptibly, silent tears falling down her cheeks.
“You are, my dear, aren’t you?” he murmured, smiling softly. “Would you like to
sit? Would you like to sit and look, while I punish your knight?”
A crestfallen expression painted her face as she shook her head.
“Shall I continue to punish you?” he purred.
She nodded again. “Yes, please, Father…” she said, her voice a throaty murmur.
“No!” cried Scorpius. “No! Nott! You can’t… Whip me! Let her go! Let her go…
You are going to… you are going to kill her… if you kill her… I swear, Nott… I
swear…”
Nott ignored him altogether, and stepped back. “I’m bored, and my wrist hurt,”
he said with a sigh. “I want to change games.” He pointed his wand to her
wrists and said, “Finite Incantatem.” The handcuffs disappeared at once, and
Lily collapsed to the floor, too weak to support herself. She tried to slow
down her plummeting to the ground with her palms, but her arms were too tired,
and instead she fell harshly on her front. She let out a loud moan of pain as
her shoulder and cheek slammed against the cold rocks.
Scorpius had to swallow to keep his nausea at bay. Now that she was lying at
his feet, he could see her back, and it was the most atrocious sight he had
ever laid his eyes upon. Her back, once so white and smooth and perfect, was
covered in lashes, and most of them were bleeding. One of them was so deep, he
could see something white peering from the wound. He felt his heart stop at the
realisation that it might be bone.
Her bottom was lacquered in blood. Morbid, crimson handprints lividly decorated
her body,and he could see Nott’s copious seed slowly rolling down from between
her arse cheeks.
“This is a new game, Scarlet,” said Nott, raising his wand. “They say it hurts
as if white-hot knives were piercing every inch of your skin. I’ve never had it
tried on myself, but you tell me if it’s accurate… Crucio!”
It lasted only a spare second, he just wanted to tease her with it, but Scarlet
cried as if real knives had really been pushed into her skin, and her body
writhed on the floor as if she was a dying animal.
“No!” screamed Scorpius. “No!”
“Hmm,” sneered Nott. “Yes, I think it really hurts.”
He pointed his wand at her again, and Scorpius sucked in his breath without
managing to gulp down any air at all. He stared with eyes wide as Nott opened
his mouth to use the Cruciatus Curse on her another time.
Then he stopped.
And Scorpius took a deep breath of relief as a frantic knock sounded through
the door, and a girl’s voice that called, “Mr Nott,” resounded through the
playroom.
Nott rolled his eyes. “Goyle,” he said, nodding towards the door.
Goyle strode towards the door and opened it quickly. “What the hell?” he
snarled. “Didn’t we say that we don’t want to be disturbed?”
Scorpius turned to find himself looking at a panic stricken Lulu, her hair in
disarray, her dress all wrinkled. She looked from Goyle to Nott, and whispered
frantically, “Aurors! Aurors everywhere! They are arresting everybody! The
girls, the clients, Charles, the house-elves…”
Scorpius closed his eyes. He had completely forgotten about Albus and Rose
Weasley, and the diary, and the fact that they were going to save them. All he
had wanted for the past hour was to suffer in Lily’s place, to die for her if
it was necessary.
But now there were Aurors. They were here. They were going to save them.
“What have you done?”
Scorpius opened his eyes again to find Nott’s furious face only inches from
him. Nott pointed his wand at his neck and gritted his teeth. “What the hell
have you done, Malfoy?”
Scorpius swallowed, the wand digging into his windpipe. “You’re going to
Azkaban,” he whispered, looking into his eyes.
“You—”
“He’s right,” said Goyle, his voice filled with apprehension. “He’s right Nott.
They… they are going to send us to Azkaban… We need to… to give the girl back
to Potter… to return her…”
“Shut up, Goyle!” he snarled. “Give her back to Potter? And what will he do?
Say thank you, and be on his way?” He snorted. “She’s going to be our pass out
of here.”
Goyle shook his head. “No. No!” he snapped back. “You’re crazy. If he sees her
like that… He’ll kill us… I’m… I’m going!”
“Don’t you dare!” roared Nott, sending a spell his way. Goyle snarled a spell
back, and Scorpius could see it singe a couple of Nott’s locks.
“You are crazy!” grunted Goyle. “I told you we should have killed her the night
we got her.”
“As if you haven’t enjoyed her for the past six years,” hissed Nott.
Goyle shook his head frantically. “If they kill me, she was not worth it… I’m
leaving. Do whatever you want with her.” Scorpius could hear him mutter a
counter spell as the man walked past him, and he felt the bindings release his
arms.
If that idiot of a man thought that the Aurors wouldn’t test his wand for spell
identification, if he thought that untying him at that moment was an excuse to
avoid the Kiss… well, he was just that. An idiot.
“Goyle! Don’t you dare! Goyle! We are in this together, you arsehole!”
But the door had already closed, and Scorpius could hear Lulu squirm as she was
pushed in front of Goyle and into the corridor.
The man’s face darkened as he returned his eyes to Scorpius. “You are going to
pay for this, Malfoy,” he growled, before lowering his deranged eyes on
Scarlet. “But first… let’s finish preparing her for Daddy.”
He raised his wand again, and pointed it at Lily’s body.
But now Scorpius was free.
And he didn’t even have to think about it.
He threw himself in front of her.
And Nott was right.
The curse really did hurt like white-hot knives piercing his skin.
***** Chapter XXI *****
Chapter Notes
     This chapter has some suggestive language, nudity and references to
     the previous chapter. Read at your own discretion.
                                      ***
They opened door after door, after door and, as they did, half-naked girls
screamed as they were dragged out into the corridors, and men of all ages
cursed and tried to cover themselves as best as they could; their eyes wide as
they stared at the Aurors and understood that they were in trouble.
Oh, they had no idea.
“Harry.”
The Head Auror didn’t lower his wand as he turned towards his brother-in-law.
“Did you find them?” he asked anxiously.
Ron shook his head. “No,” he replied, “not a sign of either Goyle or Nott.”
“And the boys? And Lily?”
He shook his head again.
Harry gritted his teeth. “They must be here!” he growled. “Albus wouldn’t have
written those things if he wasn’t sure.”
“We need to find Goyle and Nott,” replied Ron, nodding in agreement.
“I know, we need to—Stupefy!” he screamed suddenly. “Ron, it’s Goyle!” He
pointed his wand, and Goyle squealed like a pig as he dodged the spell, using a
tiny-looking woman as a shield, before disappearing behind a corner. “Get him!
Get that man!” roared Harry.
Aurors from all over the place turned to look at Harry, and towards the
direction he was pointing at. A variety of spells were shot, and Harry had to
scream, “Stop him without killing him!” He needed to question him. He needed to
find Nott and Albus and Scorpius and Lily.
Goyle ran through the open door that led to the round room, with the tiny girl
still stalking closely behind him and screaming every time a spell flew close
to her face.
“Stop him!” cried Harry, sprinting to reach them with Ron in tow.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
Teddy’s spell hit Goyle right in the chest, and the girl at his back had just
enough time to jump to her right to avoid his massive body from falling on top
of her.
“Take her, Ron,” ordered Harry, as he kicked Goyle’s wand away from his hand.
“Finite Incantatem!” he said, and Goyle squealed again as his eyes lay on
Harry. “Where are they?” snarled Harry, pointing his wand at him. “Where. Are.
They?”
“Potter… I… I don’t know what…”
“Don’t you dare, Goyle,” he snapped, “where are Nott, and my children, and
Malfoy’s son?”
Goyle swallowed. “Your children? I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
Harry’s wand dug into Goyle's fat neck. “You have my daughter,” he hissed, “and
my son.”
“Your daughter? That’s who she was?” he asked, faking surprise. “I thought… I
thought she was Nott’s daughter…”
“Tell us where she is, or I swear Goyle you will die in Azkaban.” He would die
in Azkaban either way, really, he just didn’t need to know at that very moment.
He swallowed. “I… I didn’t touch her,” he said, “never… never harmed a hair on
her head…”
The girl next to Ron snorted. “Yeah, right,” she hissed.
“Shut up, whore!” snarled Goyle.
“Where are they?” snapped Harry, gritting his teeth.
“She’s in the playroom with Mister Nott and the blond boy,” said the girl.
“She’s been punished for trying to run away with the two boys.”
“Where’s the other boy?”
“One of the cells,” replied the girl.
Harry nodded and stood up from the place where he was crouching next to Goyle’s
lying body. He grasped the wrist of the girl, almost spasmodically, and tugged
her forward. “You take me to the playroom,” he hissed, before turning to look
at Goyle again. “And you take Ron to the cells, do you understand me?”
Goyle nodded and whined.
Harry pressed his lips together and looked at Ron, his brother-in-law nodded
back in understanding as he pointed his own wand at Goyle.
“Let’s go,” hissed Harry to the girl.
***
Scorpius’ eyes fluttered as he heard the barking voice of Nott hovering over
him. “You’re good for nothing! Just like your father!” he was snarling at him.
Somehow the boy managed to ignore the harsh voice and instead focus on the
warm, quivering form that was pressed against his side, and the long, thick
hair that was tickling his chin.
He was lying on the floor, on the cold, blood-covered floor of the playroom.
Scarlet, it could only be her, was pressed against his side and had one hand on
his chest. Her little nose was digging into his neck and her breathing was soft
against his skin. She was not unconscious, she was crying softly.
Crying for him.
He tried to stretch a hand to touch her, but every muscle in his body hurt and
even the simplest task, like breathing, was torture. He tried to open his mouth
to say her name, to let her know that he was okay, even though he wasn’t.
“Scar…let…” was all he managed to breath out, but her hand tightened against
his robes and she pressed her naked and abused body against his own with a bit
more force.
Then someone tried to open the door, but it didn’t seem to budge from the
hinges.
“Time to go, little whore,” hissed Nott, and suddenly Lily’s body was yanked
from his own. He half opened his eyes in time to see Nott’s big hand closing on
her forearm, and pulling her to her feet and away from him. “Time to make
yourself useful.”
Then the door exploded and everything went black.
***
The girl squealed and ran off, when Harry destroyed the door. He didn’t care,
Ron or Teddy, or some other Auror was going to arrest her before she even tried
to reach the stairs. He would see her in Azkaban.
He stepped into the room, and the stench of blood and other bodily fluids
flooded his nostrils. He narrowed his eyes to look around himself and darkened.
Blood was everywhere, dried blood from months or weeks before, and fresh blood
that coated the floor and made his steps sticky.
And next to a puddle of the crimson liquid, there lay a figure. A blond,
unconscious young man. “Malfoy,” he breathed, hoping that he was still alive.
He stepped towards him and placed two fingers on his neck. There was a pulse, a
soft, almost imperceptible pulse. But there was one.
“Well, well, well,” hissed a voice from the other side of the room.
Harry jumped to his feet and raised his wand at once.
And stopped.
He stopped breathing.
His heart stopped beating.
And all of his muscles stopped working.
Nott was standing there in front of him. A sneer on his ugly face. A wand in
his hand. A young, naked girl pressed against his chest.
Lily.
His Lily.
His daughter.
His Lily. Lily. Lily.
She was there. She was really there. After six years. She was there. They had
found her. He couldn’t believe it. The emotions pooling in Harry’s stomach…
they were too overwhelming. Harry felt his fingers and toes go numb, his
heartbeat increased until all he could hear was the furious thumping of his
heart pumping blood in his temples, his hair stood on end along his body.
Lily was there and she was… not fine. Harry’s jaw clenched. Nott’s hand was
closed around her tiny throat, one of her cheeks was bruised and one of her
ankles was completely black, and there was some liquid falling from between her
legs with a loud toc toc. Blood, and something white.
He raised his eyes to Lily’s face, she was not… she was not fine. Her eyes were
closed, she seemed to have difficulty breathing. She looked like she was
standing only because Nott was supporting her.
“Lily,” he whispered, trying hard to keep the tears from blurring his sight. He
needed to keep himself focused. First, he had to take Lily away from that
monster, and then he could cry. Yes, he would shed so many tears, he would be
able to fill all the jars in Molly’s kitchen. But Lily was his priority. Her
safety was. Before his own emotions.
“Oh, that’s not her name anymore, Potter,” hissed Nott, as he pushed the wand
under her jaw to tilt her head back, and kissed her temple. “I wiped that name
away from her. There’s nothing pure and virginal left in her. That Lily is
dead.” He looked at Harry and smirked. “Her name is Scarlet now. No, not
because of her hair,” he said, placing a sloppy kiss on her locks, “even though
the colour is quite convenient… Because she is a scarlet woman now… a
prostitute… a whore…”
“Shut up!” snarled Harry. “Let her go, Nott. Let her go or I swear to Merlin
that I’ll kill you.”
“Oh, come on, Potter,” he sneered, “look at her. Five hundred Galleons for an
hour with her…” His hand left her throat and slid down her body, brushing
obscenely over her breast and continuing until he was cupping her between her
legs. Lily whimpered softly at the touch.
Harry had to grab his forearm to steady his wand arm. “Don’t touch her,” he
hissed, with hatred, through his gritted teeth. “Let her go!”
“Tell me you wouldn’t pay five hundred Galleons for an hour with her, Potter?”
he snorted. “Don’t worry, she has a daddy kink, I made sure of that…”
“Nott, I’m going to kill you,” hissed Harry, his voice choked. “I swear… I’ll
kill you…”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, bringing his hand back up to her throat again.
“Not today though, are you, Potter?” He pushed the wand under her jaw, and she
whimpered again, as she angled her head back against his shoulder for the
second time. “Actually, put down your wand. Unless you want to see her ripped
to shreds.” He smirked and added, “Which would be a pity, wouldn’t it, Potter?
Now that you've just found her.”
Harry didn't even think about it. Anything... anything for Lily. He lowered his
wand and threw it to the floor. He could feel his back soaking with cold sweat.
He had to keep his mouth open, to keep his teeth from chattering in fear. His
hands were shaking again.
Now that he had found her.
Now that he was so close.
No, he wouldn’t let him… Nott was not going to… he was not going to kill her…
“Tell me something, Potter,” said Nott almost conversationally. “Why did it
take you so long? Are you sure you really wanted to find her at all?”
“You’re a monster,” growled Harry. “You are going to die… I’m going to kill
you…”
Nott ignored him. “Maybe you are better off with only… how many do you have?
Two now, right? Better off with two children,” he told him, “and to be honest,
I feel like you should thank me. I brought up a subdued, obliging young lady,
who can make any man or woman go crazy in bed.” He chuckled. “Or on the floor,
against a wall, on a table…”
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” snarled Harry. He felt like every word Nott said
was carving out a piece of his heart.
“And just a heads up, Potter,” he hissed, bringing his face to hers to lick her
temple, “she hates to be taken in the arse. She squeals like a little piglet.”
He smiled and added, “And that’s exactly what I did today. How many times,
Scarlet? Three right? Or was it four? Such a tight hole, and my come is still
seeping out…”
“You are going to die,” spluttered Harry again, his green eyes wide with rage,
and fear, and hatred, behind his glasses. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Oh, now I can see after whom Scarlet takes her dramatic nature,” he sighed. “I
just told you that I brought her up myself, as if she were my own daughter,
that I took a weight off your shoulders and that’s how you repay me? Death
threats?”
Harry’s vision blurred slightly as he listened to him. Nott had taken his
daughter and abused and subdued her for years. His Lily… his little princess…
raped, forced to sell her body, mistreated… And now he was mocking him… he was
a monster… Harry felt nausea rising in his stomach. “You… you…” He couldn’t
even find the words to express the depth of his loathing.
“I know,” he smirked. “You’re welcome. I wouldn’t have minded bringing her up a
bit more, as mine, and to be fair, I think I will.” He took his wand away from
her and pointed it to Harry’s chest.
“The place is warded, and filled with Aurors,” he hissed.
“Oh,” said Nott with a smirk, “then after I kill you, I’ll kill her. Because if
I can’t have her, then nobody will.” Harry swallowed and gritted his teeth. Was
he going to die? At that moment, he didn’t care. But if he killed Lily, if Nott
killed Lily, Harry knew that he wouldn’t reach Azkaban in one piece. The Aurors
would have—
Suddenly, Scorpius Malfoy moaned softly on the floor between them and his eyes
fluttered, without opening, as his head lolled on his neck.
Nott barked a laughter. “I almost forgot about the Malfoy boy!” he grunted. He
brought his lips to Lily’s ear and whispered, “Shall I kill him, Scarlet?”
Her eyes half-opened and she shook her head feebly. “No,” she choked out as he
squeezed her throat, “no, please, Father… kill me, don’t kill him…”
Harry’s heart stopped beating when she called Nott ‘father’. He wanted to cry.
He wanted to cry so much. He managed to suppress the overwhelming urge by
sniffing loudly, and could almost see Nott’s lips curving at the sound. Her
tone of voice was heart-wrenching and Harry could literally feel his heart
cringe in his chest with every word she said. Her voice… the voice that he
still heard in his dreams… the voice of his daughter… it was so… so… so weak
and scared…
“Lily,” he whispered, sniffling again.
“Oh Potter, she doesn’t know that name,” sneered Nott. “I erased her memory.
You are nobody to her. She doesn’t know anything but me, and the brothel.” He
looked back at her and kissed her again. “Now, shut up, Potter, I’m talking to
my daughter.”
Harry gritted his teeth. He was going to kill him. No, death was too kind a
fate for him. He was going to get the Dementor’s Kiss. And then Harry would
cast the Cruciatus Curse on Nott, every day of his life. His cries would fill
Azkaban, until he would drive all the other prisoners out of their minds.
“Look at him, Scarlet,” he whispered. “He’s suffering… I should kill him, put
an end to his pain…”
“No,” she sobbed, “no, please, no…”
He pointed his wand towards Scorpius and murmured, “But you are heartless, my
dear. I shall do it for him.”
Lily’s little body shook in horror and her eyes finally opened, wide and filled
with fear. Harry felt his heart beating painfully in his chest as she started
to cry. “No!” she screamed. “No! No!” Her face was scrunched up in dread and
pain, and her hands went to Nott’s to try to wriggle free of the fingers around
her neck.
At first, Nott laughed at her. He laughed so heartily and smugly, that Harry
knew that that was his moment of opportunity. The moment he could tear her from
his grasp.
He took a step forward.
But then, suddenly, something happened.
Something, that only in hindsight, once his head cleared, Harry recognised as
magic.
All of a sudden, one after the other, the cages that hung from the ceiling
started to swing. It was only a slight movement at first, as if a gentle wind
had started to blow in the room, but their creaking was sinister and made Harry
raise his eyes over his head.
Then the first one fell near the door, and Harry could see fear beginning to
fill Nott’s eyes as he looked back at him. Then, in quick succession, they
began falling in earnest; the unnatural whine of wrought metal being destroyed
could be heard, the infernal tools and devices that littered the rooms took
flight and were now lethal in their own right, and the chairs hovered
menacingly, feet from the floor, before slamming back down with obliterating
force.
“Stop it!” snarled Nott, a hint of fear in his voice as he squeezed Lily’s
throat more forcefully. “Stop it, Scarlet!” He took a frantic step back as a
hammer flew dangerously close to his nose.
Lily opened her mouth to gasp for air, and Nott gritted his teeth as he shook
her vigorously to try to bring her magic to an end.
But Lily only whimpered in response, while a tall table near them was snapped
in half, and collapsed to the floor.
Harry had to dodge a whip as it flew near his head. Then, a menacing creaking
came from a dangerously close place. Harry looked, with his heart in his
throat, as Nott raised his fearful eyes to the ceiling. Nott’s mouth opened
wide, and he just had the time to jump back and shove Lily away from him, as a
cage fell to the floor and shattered, right where they had been standing.
Harry threw himself towards his daughter.
And then time stopped.
***
Ron sprinted the last few feet, when he heard the sudden clamour coming from
the room that Goyle had told him about.
Then there was nothing.
Nothing but a cry. The heart-rending cry of a grown man.
And when Ron walked in there, his heart stopped dead.
Harry was kneeling on the floor. His arms were around the naked, bleeding body
of his daughter, and he was pressing her against his chest and crying, soaking
his uniform with blood and shaking with sobs.
And Lily…
Merlin, Lily!
She was… Ron didn’t know. Her eyes were closed, she was as white as a ghost and
she was covered in blood. She wasn’t moving. Ron didn’t know if she was
breathing.
Ron didn’t know if she were alive.
He hurried to Nott’s body. He was lying motionless with his broken legs trapped
under a cage. Ron kicked his wand from his hand and knelt to push two fingers
against his throat and feel his pulse. He was alive. But unconscious and
unable, to hurt anybody, at the moment.
He turned towards Scorpius Malfoy. He was breathing, softly and raggedly, but
he was breathing.
“Harry,” he finally let out, turning his attention towards him.
But Harry didn’t even hear him over his sobs.
Ron raised his eyes to the door and pointed his wand.
His Patronus found Teddy first.
“Call St Mungo’s. Hurry.”
***** Chapter XXII *****
                                      ***
Ginny turned on the light, with a distracted wave of her wand, as she walked
into the kitchen. She stepped sluggishly towards the counter and grabbed
blindly for the kettle. She pushed it under the tap to fill it with water,
before putting it on the cooker and murmuring a sleepy, “Incendio.”
As soon as Harry came home, she would give him a piece of her mind. Surely he
had fallen asleep in his office again. Surely that was what had happened,
because it was almost four in the morning and his shift ended at midnight that
week, and he would have sent an owl or Floo Called, if something else had
happened and he had to stay behind for some unexpected mission.
But he hadn’t, and Ginny had woken up in the middle of the night and found
Harry’s side of the bed empty and cold. For the umpteenth time. Sometimes her
husband just didn’t understand that she needed him. Even just the feeling of
his body lying next to hers was a comfort great enough for her, when she woke
up from one of her dreams. Dreams where she was singing lullabies to Lily, or
pushing her on a swing at the park, or scolding her because she had stolen some
biscuits from the pantry.
She always woke up in tears from those dreams.
She looked out of the window, onto the dark backyard. The sun was still far
from rising and colouring everything pink, and all Ginny wanted was to warm
herself up with a cup of tea and to go back to bed.
She took out a cup from the cupboard and put a tea bag inside. She almost opted
for chamomile tea, but, on a second thought, she wanted to be awake for when
Harry finally came back. English Breakfast Tea would do the trick, it was
strong and would keep her awake. 
The kettle whistled suddenly and she started.
Grimmauld Place was so silent at night, that even the smallest sound could give
a fright to the most stoic, imperturbable person, let alone a thoughtful one.
And Ginny felt rather thoughtful that night. She felt quite inexplicably
anxious, really, as if something was going to happen any minute now. Something
bad or something good. She couldn’t really say.
She poured the boiling water into the cup and let the tea bag soak in gently.
She was going to meet up with Hermione the following day. Her sister-in-law had
told her that she wanted to buy a new cloak for Ron, for his birthday, and even
though there were still a couple of months before Ron turned forty-four,
Hermione was not one to do some last minute shopping.
A bit of air would do her good, too. She suspected that Hermione kept asking
her to go here and there, with her, just for that. Because they kept saying
that a bit of air, and a nice chat, would do her good.
But Ginny knew that the only thing that would have done her good, she couldn’t
have.
“Ginny.”
Ginny’s cup ended up on the floor, with a loud crash, and she gasped a soft,
“Oh”, as she turned to look at her husband. “Harry,” she breathed, taking out
her wand from her pocket and waving it to clean the floor and piece the mug
back together. “You startled me. I…” Her words trailed away as her eyes
wandered over his uniform. “Oh my, you’re covered in blood,” she whispered,
looking up at his face. “Is it yours? Are you all right?”
“It’s not mine,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.
Ginny looked at his face. He looked serious and rather solemn, his eyes were
puffy, as if he had cried. Cried. Harry didn’t cry easily. And usually he only
cried when they were talking about—
“What…”
“They found Lily.”
His words made their way to Ginny’s heart before they could reach her brain.
The kitchen started to swirl around her, and suddenly her legs felt unstable on
the floor. She parted her lips and took a sharp breath. Something fell onto the
swell of her bosom with a soft toc. Was that a tear already? She couldn’t see
anything anyway, was she crying? She brought a hand to her cheek to find it wet
and burning, as if she had a temperature. She took an unsteady step towards
Harry. “What…” she breathed.
Harry didn’t move, and somehow, it scared Ginny that he wasn’t smiling or
laughing or crying in happiness. It scared Ginny that he was covered in blood.
She closed the distance between the two of them and grabbed his forearms. “Why
are you covered in blood?” she asked frantically. “What happened? Where…
where’s Lily? Where’s my daughter? Is she… is she… alive?”
Harry nodded softly. “She’s at St Mungo’s,” he murmured. “Let’s go. We need to
change and go to see her. Let’s go.”
And as they walked up the stairs, he still wouldn’t smile.
***
Ron wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the acrid taste of vomit
stubbornly lingered on his lips. He flushed the toilet and staggered towards
the basin. He had to forcefully grab the cold porcelain, with one hand, to
support himself, while he turned on the faucet with the other and stared at the
clear liquid.
“Don’t touch her!”
Ron fell back on his heels as he stared at Harry, who was hugging Lily to his
chest. He had just wanted to touch her wrist. He had just wanted to check her
pulse. “Harry,” he tried to say, but Harry’s sobs were too loud and they were
making Ron’s sight blur.
He cupped his hands and placed them together. He let the water fill the basin
of his hands, and his lips parted in surprise as he saw the liquid blush red.
Lily’s blood.
“The Healers are—Lily…”
“No!” cried Harry, pushing her body against himself. “No! Teddy, don’t look!”
He finally looked at Ron. He finally saw him. He finally recognised him. “Ron,
cover her, please… cover her… don’t let them… don’t let them see… my baby…”
Ron waited for the blood to run down the drain before he brought the water to
his lips. He drank avidly, as if he was dying from thirst. He spit out a
mouthful, and finally felt the sour taste leaving his mouth.
Ron found a cloak on the floor. Right at that moment, it didn’t matter if it
was Nott’s cloak or someone else’s. It was long enough to cover Lily like a
blanket, and Harry arranged it around her shoulders and hugged her more
forcefully.
“No, no,” he chanted, lowering his head to kiss her hair matted with sweat and
blood. “No, you’re alright, you’re okay… Daddy’s here… you’re okay…”
Ron held his hands under the water once again and splashed some ice-cold fluid
all over his face. He didn’t want to look at his reflection in the mirror above
the basin. He already knew what he looked like.
Ron raised his eyes in time to see Albus appearing at the doorframe of that
damned room. Teddy didn’t seem to notice him, as he stood there, and looked at
his father’s back while he rocketed Lily in his arms and cried.
He opened his mouth to say something, but Ron didn’t let him. He was on him
before he could utter a word. He hugged him tightly in his arms and didn’t let
him wriggle free. Even though he tried. Oh! How much he tried.
“Lily! No! No! Lily!” he cried against Ron’s chest.
“She’s alright,” lied Ron in a whisper. “She’s okay.”
When Ron raised his eyes to finally look at his reflection, he was only
slightly startled to see Hermione standing there at his back.
Her eyes were red and puffy and he knew that – as her husband – he should have
gone to her, and should have tried to soothe her anguish. He had heard her
crying, right after he had told her. 
Instead he lowered his head. “I threw up,” he whispered.
The Healers had to wrestle Lily from Harry’s arms. Someone said that she was
alive, and Ron’s took such a deep breath of relief that his head started to
spin. Or maybe it was the smell of the blood. Or maybe it was the sight of
Lily’s back as they moved her on a stretcher. Or maybe it was everything.
“We have to go to St Mungo’s.”
Ron didn’t look at her as he nodded.
“Can you… can you manage?” she asked softly.
Ron took a deep breath and nodded again. “Yes,” he replied, and her arms around
his waist were all the comfort he needed.
***
Harry was ashamed to feel this way.
He really was, but Ginny’s tears soaking his clean shirt, and her hands
clasping his arms, made him feel calm. Calmer. Calmer than before. Calmer than
when he had been in that room, with Lily’s body pressed against his chest, and
with all that blood, and with Nott…
“Lily… Lily…” sobbed Ginny.
And no other words left her lips.
It was all his fault.
But Harry had felt the urge to tell her.
She needed to know.
Needed to know what had happened to their daughter.
And he couldn’t have handled all that pain by himself.
***
“I want to see her. She’s my daughter, I want to see her.”
Harry had lost count of how many times Ginny had said those words. For the
whole morning, really. And for the majority of the afternoon. Every time a
Healer walked past her in the corridor, every time Harry tried to hand her
something to eat, every time Albus or James asked her if she wanted to go home,
maybe, to wait more comfortably, and every time Healer Pye, the one in charge
of the Spell Damage Ward, came out of the room, they had been told, they had
assigned to Lily.
Harry had told her everything he knew. And then Albus – shaking, crying,
sobbing against his father’s chest, and with his mother’s hands in his hair –
had told them everything. Everything about Scorpius Malfoy. And everything
about Lily. And the fact that she didn’t remember her own brother, that she
didn’t know who he was, that she had asked if he was a client. He told them
about the cursed ankle bracelet, and the fact that he heard her say that she
loved the Malfoy boy.
Harry had gone looking for him. Scorpius Malfoy. To thank him. To comfort him,
because Merlin only knew what he had gone through! The Cruciatus Curse,
apparently, and forms of baser torture, probably. But he had already gone home,
retrieved by his crying mother as the Aurors arrested his father.
Teddy and James and Albus hadn’t gone home at all, and soon the whole Weasley
clan was crowding the corridors. People were crying, Molly was asking
incessantly when her daughter could see her granddaughter, Hermione was
comforting Ginny, Fred was listening with his mouth open as Albus told him what
had happened to his money, and Ron was sitting silently in a corner with Rose’s
hand comfortingly on his forearm, waiting like everybody else. The Healers
tried to gently shoo them all to the Fifth Floor to wait in the cafeteria, more
than once, but nobody moved.
Then, at one point, one of the Trainee Healers hurried out of Lily’s room, and
when she came back, Pye was with her. They were talking in hushed tones, and
only glanced at Ginny and Harry once, before they opened the first of the two
doors that brought to their daughter.
“What?” asked Ginny, standing up at once. “What’s happening?”
They didn’t reply to her, and the door locked at their backs,as they walked in.
They were in there for interminable long hours, and Harry grew as restless as
Ginny while they waited for Merlin knew what.
“I want to see her. She’s my daughter. I want to see her,” sobbed Ginny.
“I know, darling,” whispered Hermione, caressing her hair. “You’ll see her
soon.”
***
Augustus Pye’s office was filled with books concerning both Magical and Muggle
medicine, and suddenly Harry remembered him being the Trainee Healer who had
tried to stitch Arthur Weasley’s wound after he had been attacked by Nagini.
The one who wanted to experiment with Muggle techniques. He seemed to have not
discarded his passion, even though he was not on the Creature-Induced Injury
floor anymore. He was the Healer-in-Charge of the fourth floor.
“I want to see my daughter,” said Ginny, her voice now raw after a whole day
spent repeating those words. “Why can’t I see her?”
“Mrs Potter, please, sit down,” the Healer said calmly.
“No!” snapped Ginny as she walked, nonetheless, towards the desk and the
chairs. “Why can’t I see her? She needs me! I’m her mother!”
“I understand—”
“No, you don’t!” she snapped again, tears swelling in her eyes. “She needs me.”
The Healer took a deep breath, and finally Harry grabbed his wife’s arm and
pushed her gently into a chair, before sitting down next to her. He looked at
the Healer and swallowed. “Is she… is she alright?” he murmured. He had seen
her covered in blood, at the brothel, the cage almost crushing her legs as Nott
threw her to the floor and she hit her head against the cold rocks. He knew
that she was not alright.
The Healer smiled softly. “She’s awake and aware,” he replied, “and I’ve talked
to her.”
Harry felt a wave of relief washing over him. Awake and aware. That was what he
needed to hear.
Ginny brought her hands to her mouth and sobbed loudly. “I want to see her,”
she sniffled. “I want to talk to her, too.”
“I know,” said the Healer softly, “and you will. In fact, I will ask her
tomorrow morning.”
“No! Now!” sobbed Ginny.
The Healer shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he replied calmly, “but Miss Potter is
my patient, and I have to do what is right for her.”
“Surely seeing her parents is right for her,” pointed out Harry, his lips
pressed together in a thin, severe line.
The Healer looked at him with piercing blue eyes. “Yes, it is,” he conceded,
“but gradually. And she will not be forced to see you, I’m afraid. She will be
asked. And if she agrees, you will be admitted inside to see her.”
“But… but… but of course she wants to see me,” whimpered Ginny. “I’m her
mummy…”
Healer Pye looked at her with pity in his eyes. He took his time to reply to
her, though, as if he was not sure that he should reply at all. Finally, he
took out a folder, with the name of their daughter printed on top, and opened
it.
“Mrs Potter,” he said softly, “your daughter was tortured under the Cruciatus
Curse, thankfully we were able to cure the ache in her body. She was whipped
until her skin was perforated to the bone, and we are taking care of the wounds
on her back and the bruises on her face. She was placed under a warding spell,
through a cursed ankle bracelet, and we removed the dark magic from her leg.”
He lowered his eyes, as if he couldn’t look at them as he continued, “She was
raped, and my Healers have taken care of her.”
Ginny shook with loud sobs, and Harry had to place a hand to her shoulder and
pull her to his chest to comfort her. Her white hand sneaked its way to his
collarbone and grabbed his robes there.
The Healer looked up again, taking a deep breath, as if what he was going to
say was going to be even worse than what he had already told them. “She was
cast under a Memory Charm, Mrs Potter. She doesn’t remember you,” he murmured
truthfully. “She doesn’t remember anything but the years she spent in
captivity.” He took the folder into his hands and continued, “When I asked her
what her name was, she said it was Scarlet. Her surname, Nott. She knew she was
fifteen. I asked her what she likes to do, she said that she likes to read and
that she would like to see outside. I asked her what she doesn’t like to do and
she said that she doesn’t like to…” His voice trailed away as he bit his bottom
lip, and his eyes travelled through the file.
“To?” asked Harry hoarsely. He needed to know.
“To lie with the clients,” he replied softly, his voice a bit strangled, “to be
taken in the arse, to swallow, to be put in the playroom, to—”
“No! Stop, stop, please…” whimpered Harry frantically, squeezing a shaking
Ginny in his arms. “What else did she say? Anything else… not this…”
Healer Pye nodded. “I asked her if she knew who her family was,” he continued,
visibly relieved to change the subject. “She said that her father was Mr
Theodore Nott. And Taffy was her only friend.”
“Who’s Taffy?” asked Ginny, blowing her nose and raising her head a little from
Harry’s chest.
“Her house-elf,” replied the Healer. “She takes care of her apparently. I asked
her if she remembered anything from the night before and she said that she
remembered everything. She told me everything that happened from the moment she
met Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter in the room.” He swallowed and paled visibly, as if
recalling the tale was something that made him sick, before adding, “She also
asked me if Scorpius was coming to see her.”
Harry swallowed. “He’s already gone home,” he replied softly.
“I know,” he replied, “then she asked me if I’ve read the…” He stared at the
folder and narrowed his eyes as he looked for the piece of information he
needed. “The Tale of Viridina the Witch and Her Handsome Knight,” he finally
said. “I said no, and she asked me if I wanted to hear the story. I said yes,
and she started to tell me the book almost by heart.”
“She’s so… so intelligent,” murmured Ginny, sobbing quietly. “So intelligent…
she’s always been… my Lily…”
“She is,” replied the Healer with a comforting smile, “but she is not the child
you might remember her to be, Mrs Potter.”
Ginny’s expression darkened as she brushed away her tears on her cheeks with
force. “I know, Healer, she’s a teenager now,” she almost snapped. “She will
always be my baby… but I know… I know…”
Healer Pye shook his head. “Not only that, Mrs Potter,” he murmured. “She was
brought up in a very particular environment, her idea of what is right and what
is wrong, her relationship with other people, her relationship with herself and
her body… they might be slightly… twisted.” He took another deep breath.
Ginny’s lips parted as she started to cry again. She turned towards Harry and
pressed her face into his chest once more. His hand sneaked its way to her head
to caress her flaming hair.
“That said, Mrs Potter,” Healer Pye added gently. “She is also extremely sweet
and polite.” He smiled reassuringly. “She thanked the Healers five times, while
I was in there, and she kept asking them if they wanted to tell her a story.”
He swallowed and his smile faltered slightly as he continued, “She doesn’t
think like a fifteen-year-old, I’m afraid. Mentally, she is closer to a child.
A ten or eleven-year-old.”
Harry swallowed. “But… but that can be improved, right?” he asked hopefully.
“At home, with a loving family and a healthy environment where she—”
“You are talking like it matters,” Ginny cut him off, looking at the Healer
resolutely as she straightened her back again. “You are talking as if that’s
important. I don’t care. She is my daughter, and I don’t care what she looks
like or how she thinks. I don’t care if she has lost her mind, or if she had
been Transfigured into a monster, or if she has the brain of a two-year-old. I
just want to see her.”
Harry looked at her and almost felt guilty for having worried about such a
silly thing as her mental age. Ginny was right, it didn’t matter. They would
love her no matter what.
“Tomorrow,” said the Healer. “After I’ve talked to her again. But we need to
agree on some things first.”
“Like what?” asked Harry, frowning.
“Like how much you want to tell her,” he replied.
“Everything,” said Ginny forcefully. “Everything, everything, everything. She
needs to know that now things will be alright, that she has a loving family and
a mother who needs to make up for the time lost with her.” She balled her hands
into fists and added, “And I don’t want her to think that her name is Scarlet
Nott anymore. Tell her that her name is Lily. Lily Luna Potter.”
The Healer looked at her for a long moment, before turning his gaze upon Harry.
Harry could only nod in agreement though.
Healer Pye sighed. “I will introduce the subject tomorrow morning,” he said. “I
will tell her about you, and maybe mention what happened six years ago.”
“And her name,” urged Ginny.
“And her name,” agreed Pye. He sighed again and closed the folder. “It might
take a while for her to want to see you, Mrs Potter.”
Ginny pressed her lips together. “Then I’ll wait,” she said firmly. “I’ll wait
all my life if that’s what it takes.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” he replied softly. “She might want to see
you straight away as well. Surely, the promise of meeting her loving parents
will help her decide what to do. You can go home for tonight I will see you
in—”
“No,” Ginny cut him off, standing up. “I’ll be in the corridor.”
***
Scorpius winced slightly when he stood up from the armchair near the fireplace.
“Does it hurt?” asked his mother quickly. “Are you in pain? Do you want to go
back to St Mungo’s?”
He looked at her almost warily. It was weird to have her worrying so much about
him, as if he was a little child once again. “No, thank you, Mother,” he
replied quietly. “I need to go and collect some things from my room for
tomorrow.”
“Oh, Scorpius! You don’t have to go!” she almost whined. “Professor McGonagall
said you could take all the time you needed.”
“I don’t need any more time,” he replied softly. “I want to go back to school.”
His mother sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me, Scorpius?” she asked in a pained
whisper. “I could have helped you.”
“You would have thought I just wanted to be with a prostitute,” he replied
hotly, giving her his back. “You would have never believed me.”
She let out a soft moan but didn’t reply, and Scorpius almost felt the urge to
turn and say that he was sorry, that he didn’t want to be so harsh with her,
especially now that his father was awaiting his trial.
“Don’t you want to go and see her?” his mother asked softly. “I’m sure you’d
make her happy. And you would be too…”
He swallowed and shook his head. "No," he replied, "it's better if I don't." He
lowered his eyelids for a moment, and Lily's glassy eyes stared into his own.
Nott was hovering over her and sneering at them both. He opened his eyes again
and gasped for breath.
Scorpius shook his head vigorously to send that memory away. Finally, he walked
out of the drawing room and into the cold corridor of the Manor.
***** Chapter XXIII *****
                                      ***
Scarlet—no, notScarlet, Healer Pye was saying that her name was Lily,and Healer
Pye seemed so gentle and intelligent, he didn’t look like he wanted to hurt her
at all, and he surely didn’t look like he could be lying to her—opened her eyes
wide.
“My parents?” she asked shyly, fidgeting with the covers of the bed. “Is Father
coming? To take me home?”
“Mr Nott?” asked Healer Pye, frowning a little.
She nodded, who else?
“No, Lily,” he replied, smiling gently. “Your actual parents. Your mother and
your real father. They are out here. They want to see you, you know, they
missed you.”
She lowered her eyes and furrowed her brow in concentration. Her actual
parents? She had a mother? They missed her? But Father had said that… No,
Father hadn’t said anything at all about her mother… She didn’t… She was sure
she didn’t have a mother… Surely that was not possible, surely Healer Pye was
mistaking her for someone else. This Lily, he was talking about, maybe… “But I
don’t… I don’t think you are right,” she whispered, unable to say anything
else. “I only have Father and Taffy…”
“Theodore Nott is not your father, Lily,” he told her patiently, a smile always
curving his lips upwards. “Your real father is out here.”
Scarlet’s—Lily’s (or was it Scarlet’s, after all?) heart was thumping painfully
in her chest. Another father. Another Father. Was this another person just like
Father? Her bottom lip trembled at the terrifying thought. She pushed the
covers away and threw herself to the floor; her bony knees throbbed as they
banged against the cold tiles. She hugged Healer Pye’s legs and started to
weep. “No,” she sobbed, “no please… I want to stay here… please…”
She could feel Healer Pye stiffen under her touch. “No, Lily,” he said quickly,
grabbing her upper arm. “Bianca, help her up, please. No, dear…”
Bianca, her newest friend, the one who – with Myrcella – was taking care of
her, now that Taffy was not with her anymore, grabbed her under her armpits and
pulled her back to the bed. She sat down next to Lily and soothed her gently
with a hand on her head. Bianca always wore a lime green uniform, just like
Healer Pye, but she had told Lily that she was still a trainee. Lily had asked
what that meant, and she had told her that she was still learning how to take
care of people.
To Lily, both Bianca and Myrcella knew perfectly well how to take care of
people. She had never been happier in the care of a human being before.
“No,” wept Lily, hugging Bianca’s waist and looking at Healer Pye. “No… please,
Sir, I want to stay here… don’t send me to my father… please… I don’t eat much…
I don’t use much room, I’ll sleep on the floor, I won’t disturb you… please,
Sir… don’t send me away…” She closed her eyes and sobbed loudly. “I’m good, I
swear, I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Sir… I’ll undress for you, Sir… I’m
good…”
Bianca gasped softly as Lily hugged her forcefully.
“No dear, no,” whispered Healer Pye feebly. “You don’t have to do that, Lily…”
Bianca took a deep breath as her hands treaded Lily’s hair. “Lily, sweetie, why
don’t you want to see your parents?” she asked with a smile in her voice.
“Bianca, that’s not the correct procedure for this kind of—”
“I don’t want to go back to the brothel, please…” she replied, raising her
head.
Bianca smiled comfortingly at her. “But your father and your mother live in a
house, not in a brothel,” she soothed her, “and they have a garden, you know,
you keep saying that you want to see outside, I’m sure they are always walking
outside and listening to the birds sing and looking at the colours of the
sunset…”
Lily raised her wet eyes to Bianca, her mouth wide at those wondrous words.
Outside. They were always outside… She wanted to go outside… She wanted to see
the world outside… She had always wanted to do that… Maybe, maybe she could go
outside with them… and with Bianca and Myrcella and with Healer Pye… and then…
then she would ask to come back to this room. She felt safe here. Nobody asked
her to undress, nobody rolled her hair around their fingers, nobody wanted to
take her from behind, here.
And a father… another father… not another father… She didn’t want another
father. She just wanted to weep, because she didn’t want her own father either.
She was a bad daughter, wasn’t she? But she just didn’t want to go back with
father or anybody that treated her like he did… “I don’t want another father,”
she whimpered.
“You know,” whispered Bianca, “sometimes my father tells me to find a
boyfriend, and get married, and give him a bunch of grandkids so that he can
spoil them rotten…”
Lily looked at her without understanding, her lips parted in surprise at those
words that seemed to have nothing to do with what they were talking about.
“I tell him he’s nuts,” she continued with a smile.
Lily’s eyes filled with fear, Bianca told her father that he was nuts? And her
father didn’t put her in the playroom? “And he punishes you?” she asked
terrified.
Bianca shook her head. “Oh no, he sighs and snorts, but in the end he always
smiles and says that he loves me…”
Lily felt her bottom lip quiver again. Bianca’s father said that he loved his
daughter. But fathers didn’t love their daughters. Father had never told her
that he loved her. Father didn’t love her. And Lily just wanted… she just
wanted to be loved so much…
Lily had imagined what love would feel. Real love. It would feel warm, she
thought, and gentle and… She closed her eyes, love would feel like someone
holding her and caressing her hair and kissing the top of her head and… She
wanted someone to do that to her. Mothers did that, didn’t they? She had read
that in some books… Maybe, after all, she could ask to see her mother… maybe
even her father… Just to try what it felt like. Scarlet—Lily would know if they
loved her. Maybe she would be able to feel it… And Bianca and Myrcella and
Healer Pye would know if Father and Mother tried to take her away, wouldn’t
they? They would stop them, right? They would stop them if she didn’t want to
go with them…
“Healer Pye is a father too, you know,” whispered Bianca, “to two boys, and
even though he looks severe, he is a big softie, isn’t he?”
“Bianca!” Healer Pye flushed magenta as Lily gaped at him. Yes, he looked like
a big softie to her. And despite that, he was a father…
“But I don’t know my parents,” whimpered Lily.
“I know,” replied Healer Pye softly. “You don’t remember them, but they’ve
looked for you for years. They love you, Lily, and they just want to talk to
you. Just talk.”
She swallowed. “And then I have to go back to Father?” she asked meekly. “Or go
with them?”
“You won’t have to do anything that you don’t want to,” he replied, his voice
gentle, “and surely you will never have to go back to Mister Nott. Your real
father is a good man who can’t wait to hug you and talk to you.” He smiled and
added, “And hear everything about Viridina and that handsome knight of hers,
you know.”
“That’s not the correct procedure, Healer Pye,” grinned Bianca.
“Oh, shut up,” murmured Healer Pye with a smile.
“Oh,” whispered Lily. Maybe if they just wanted to talk… and hear about
Viridina… maybe she could meet them… “Then maybe… if they want to hear
everything about Viridina… maybe I should talk to them… Just a little bit…”
He nodded gently. “Maybe you should,” he agreed, “but only if you want to.”
She nodded back. “Yes,” she said, sounding resolute; like a child who had just
been told a secret and asked not to tell it, “yes. I’ll talk to them.” She
swallowed and looked at him fretfully. “I don’t have to go with them, though,
right?”
“Not unless you want to.” Healer Pye stood up. “Shall I let them in then?”
Her heart was beating furiously in her chest now. Surely they wouldn’t take her
away if she didn’t want to. Surely she could just meet them. And then… maybe…
she would know if they loved her. She had known straight away with Scorpius,
the first time she had seen him. She nodded again, before whispering, “Sir…”
“Oh, Lily, you can call me Augustus,” he replied with a smile.
“Augustus,” she called him, “is Scorpius coming to visit me today?”
***
“She wants to see you,” said Healer Pye, and Ginny could feel her heart swell
in her chest. “She was afraid that Mr Nott would come to take her back to the
brothel.”
“Oh,” moaned Ginny, “did you tell her that she doesn’t have to worry about him?
That Mummy is here now… that I won’t let anybody hurt her anymore…”
“You tell her, Mrs Potter,” he replied gently. He moved away from the door, and
Ginny barely registered Harry’s hand on her shoulder as he pushed her forward
and they finally walked inside. Her family was holding their breath at her
back, and her husband was whispering something in her ear, but she didn’t even
hear him, she couldn’t hear anything except her heart.
Then the first door closed at their backs and a second one opened with a click
in front of them. Ginny’s hand shook as she pushed it open.
The first thing Ginny noticed was that the room was colourful. It was not
white, as she remembered her own room to be when she gave birth to Lily – the
last time she had been in the hospital. No, this room was filled with colours
and she was extremely grateful for that; there were flowers, and a big bed with
some chairs around it, and beautiful paintings of children playing on the walls
and many colourful pillows on the foot of the bed.
And then there was Lily. Her Lily.
Lily was sitting on the bed, the snow-white blankets bobbed in her lap. She was
wearing a flowery nightgown, and Ginny had just the time to glance at her
slightly apprehensive and beautiful face before her sight blurred with tears.
She searched for Harry’s hand and grabbed it forcefully for comfort.
Harry squeezed her back. Without words, he seemed to say to her that he was
there. That she was not alone. Ginny was confused. Why did she need to be
comforted in that moment? She swallowed. She was scared. What if Lily asked
them to leave? What if she didn’t want to talk to them? What if she shied away
from Ginny’s touch? What if her heart had become unable to love after all those
years in—
“Hello,” said Lily shyly.
Ginny sniffled sharply at her daughter’s voice.
“Hello,” replied Harry, his voice thick with emotion.
Ginny tried to open her mouth to say something, but no sound left her lips. She
took a sharp breath as Harry guided her slowly towards a chair near the bed.
She didn’t sit on it, though. No. She swallowed hard, and tried to clear her
eyes from the wayward tears she was about to shed, to finally manage to look at
her properly.
She had been asked by Pye not to cry, but she seemed unable to comply with his
request.
And she had been asked not to touch her, if Lily didn’t touch her first.
But, again, Ginny just couldn’t do what she had been told.
“I… I knew you were alive,” she sobbed, sitting on the bed next to Lily and
enveloping her in her arms. “I knew you were alive. I just knew you were alive.
I knew it… I knew it… I’ve always known it… always, I just knew…” She leaned
her head against her daughter’s, wetting her hair with warm tears. She moved
her hands up and down, over Lily's back, to try to hug every single inch of her
body.
Lily was breathing softly near her neck. She wasn’t hugging her back, but she
wasn’t pushing her away either. Suddenly, her little hand came to pat Ginny’s
back comfortingly. “I’m alive,” she said gently, “don’t cry. I’m alive.”
And the more that tiny, sweet voice told her not to cry, the more Ginny wanted
to do just that. So she cried as she squeezed Lily hard in her arms, caressed
her long hair, wet the top of her head with more tears, cradled her in time
with her sobs.
“I missed you so much,” she sobbed, kissing her head, “so much. So, so, so
much… So much… Lily, my Lily… my princess… my little angel… nobody… nobody will
ever take you away from me… nobody… nobody will touch you… nobody will hurt you
anymore… I swear…”
Minutes that tasted like mere seconds passed, and Ginny didn’t let her go. Lily
didn’t seem to mind, and Ginny didn’t seem able to release her… If Ginny could,
she would have never let her go. How much she had missed her! How much she had
waited for that moment. Her Lily. Her daughter. She just wanted to hug her
forever. To make sure that nobody ever took her away from her. To make sure
that nobody ever lay a finger on her again.
“Ginny,” said Harry softly, “Ginny let her go, darling, her back…”
Ginny unwrapped her arms from around her body. “Oh,” she said, brushing away
the tears, “oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She cupped Lily’s cheeks and
looked at her. “Did I hurt you, Lily? Did Mummy hurt you?”
She shook her head and gave her a small, reassuring smile.
“Oh,” she murmured, “you look just like me when I was your age…”
Lily nodded seriously. “And you look like me,” she said in wonder. She glanced
at Harry and her lips parted in surprise. “And you look like Albus,” she
murmured.
Harry nodded and smiled warmly as he sat on the other side of the bed. “Albus
is your brother, Lily,” he said gently.
“Oh,” she breathed, her lips a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. “I have a brother.”
“You have two, my sweet angel,” said Ginny, finally releasing her cheeks to put
her hair behind her ears. It was long and silky and shiny, and she was pale,
and so beautiful and innocent. “And they are out there. When you want to see
them, we can call them so you can talk to them.”
She nodded, then she lowered her eyes, her cheeks flushing. “What… what’re your
names?” she asked shyly, and that single question had the power to make Ginny’s
tears swell up in her eyes again.
“I’m Harry,” said Harry softly, “Harry James Potter.” He swallowed and added,
“But you can call me Dad… or Daddy… or whatever you like…”
She nodded gently, eyes as wide as two Galleons.
“And my name is Ginny, dear,” she sniffled, “Ginevra Molly Potter. But… but you
call me Mummy, okay? You… used to call me Mummy… when you were little…”
She nodded again, but lowered her eyes and suddenly she looked very sad. “I… I
don’t remember you,” she murmured, her voice a bit choked. “I’m sorry…”
“No, no, no, no,” Ginny hurried to say, sniffling again. “It’s not your fault,
Lily, darling. And it doesn’t matter, dear, we love you, you know, and that’s
all that matters, okay? We just… we just love you… And we have so many pictures
of when you were a little child. And it doesn’t matter if you don’t remember…
We will show them to you… The cutest baby, you were… the cutest…”
Lily beamed at her and Ginny felt her heart swell again. “Was I?” she asked in
wonder.
“Oh yes, darling,” she whispered, caressing her cheek. “The cutest…”
She looked all shy now. “Can you tell me?” she asked softly.
Ginny’s tears, which had been threatening to fall once more, finally rolled
down her cheek. “I can tell you,” she sobbed, “I can tell you everything you
want to know…”
“Everything,” she beamed. “I like stories. And I like to read…”
“I like to read, too,” said Ginny sweetly, sniffling as she did.
She beamed again, eyes shining with happiness. “Oh, have you read The Tale of
Viridina the Witch and Her Handsome Knight?” she asked, all serious.
Ginny nodded. “It’s my favourite book,” she admitted gently.
Lily’s mouth opened wide as she looked at her. “Mine too!” she exclaimed, and
she sounded truly surprised. “My most favourite book in the whole world!”
Ginny smiled at her. “Yes, because you are my daughter,” she whispered gently
as if that explained that.
She knew it didn’t.
She had read it back when she was younger and she had found it slightly too
sappy for her own enjoyment; but now, suddenly, she thought there was no book
better than that.
Lily smiled at her and then she looked at her father, her expression resolute
all of a sudden. “Is Scorpius coming to visit me today?” she asked softly.
Harry and Ginny glanced at each other. “Not today, Lily,” he replied gently,
“but soon. I promise.”
She nodded, her face suddenly slightly more miserable than before.
Ginny looked at Harry with apprehension and he nodded towards Lily with a smile
on his lips. She nodded back at him. “Lily,” she called her gently, Lily
turned, and Ginny was ecstatic to see that she seemed to know that that was her
real name, as if she had never been called Scarlet at all. “Shall we tell you
your story now?”
She beamed at them again, so fast, that Ginny was almost surprised at how
quickly her emotions would change. Pye was right, she was just like a child. A
beautiful, pure, little child that nobody had ever managed to soil. Her child.
Just like the child that had been taken away from her. Yes, nothing had
changed… “Yes, please,” Lily replied, moving the covers a bit to make some room
for Ginny. “You can sit here if you want,” she murmured shyly, before lowering
her eyes and adding, “And you can hug me again, if you like…”
Ginny looked at the spot next to her daughter, before bringing her eyes back to
her face. “I’d love to,” she whispered, sitting with her back against the
headboard and wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she started telling the
story of Lily and what a cute baby she was.
***
Days passed and Ginny never left Lily’s room. She slept there, she ate there,
she used the bathroom reserved for the patients, and she never even set foot
into the corridor.
She talked to Lily relentlessly, she told her everything, and some of the
stories that she seemed to like the most she told them twice or three times.
She showed her so many pictures and articles about their family that she had
lost count. She told Harry to bring her Chocolate Cauldrons and cookies and
sweets and all the things that she wanted. Lily seemed to like the Chocolate
Frogs most of all, and she kept opening them and trying to catch them as they
jumped about the room. Then she laughed, and Ginny cried again at that
beautiful sound that she had never forgotten. And then she put all the
Chocolate Frog Cards that she had found on her bedside table and read them over
and over again.
Ginny brushed her hair and braided it, she taught Lily how to play Exploding
Snap, she sang her lullabies in the evening. She showed her more pictures and
more articles about her father, and she held her hand when the Healers were
visiting her or checking her now smooth back, or her little, pale ankle.
And one after the other, the members of the family were admitted to see her for
the first time. Ginny told her everything about them.
James and Albus were first, and she kept smiling and blushing as they told her
what she used to do when she was little. How eager she was on Christmas morning
when she wanted to open her presents, how much she liked to fly behind her
mother’s broom, how loud she was when she laughed.
Her grandparents were the second people to whom she was introduced. Grandma
Molly cried the whole time; so much so that she had to lie down on Ginny’s
makeshift bed as she repeated, “It was all my fault,” over and over again,
touching her chest with her palm. Seeing this, Lily lay down next to her,
kissed her softly on her cheek, and reassured her that it was not her fault.
Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron talked to her for hours. Ron tried to joke and make
her laugh, and Ginny was genuinely happy when he managed to do so. Hermione
brought her some books, because Harry had told her that she loved to read.
Then there were Teddy, Bill and George, and Percy and Fleur and Roxanne,
Victoire, Dominique, Louis and Charlie. And Fred and Angelina, and Audrey and
Molly and Lucy, and even Luna came, and she told Lily why she had been given
her name.
Rose sat with her for hours the first afternoon that she had arrived from
Hogwarts. It had taken her days to finally go and see her, and Ginny couldn’t
help noticing how scared and nervous she looked.
“Aunt Ginny told me that you like to read,” she had said, her voice thick with
emotion as she tried hard not to cry. “I like to read too…” She took out a book
from her bag and opened it. “When you were small like a little shrimp, and
couldn’t read, I used to read to you,” she continued, smiling shyly and
swallowing hard. “Do you want me to?”
Lily turned to look at Ginny, who was sitting on a chair in a corner. “Oh,
yes,” she said, “Mother, can she read to me?”
Ginny smiled at her. “Of course,” she replied softly, “but Lily, darling, I
told you, call me Mum… or Mummy…”
Lily nodded, but somehow that name wouldn’t stick with her. “Yes,” she said,
turning to Rose. “Can you read to me, Rose?”
Rose started to read from the book she had brought. Cinderella, a Muggle tale
from Hermione’s library, apparently. And when her voice started to get raw,
Lily offered to read to her and they finished the whole volume in one
afternoon.
Then they talked and talked, and Rose admitted to her that she had always been
her favourite cousin, and not to tell Victoire or Lucy. And Lily laughed and
solemnly swore, just like Uncle Ron had showed her.
“I have to go now, Lily,” said Rose sweetly as she stood from the chair and
leaned in to kiss her cheeks. “I have to go back to school. To Hogwarts.”
“Oh,” Lily whispered surprised, “Scorpius goes to Hogwarts.”
Rose nodded and smiled. “I know,” she replied gently.
“Rose…” murmured Ginny with apprehension.
“Oh, do you see him?” Lily asked softly.
Rose glanced at Ginny. “I… I do… every day,” she said unsurely.
Lily looked at her hopefully. “Is he coming to visit me today?”
Rose bit her bottom lip. “No…” she replied quietly. “But soon. I’ll show him
the way to your room, okay?”
“Yes,” she replied, eyes wide, “maybe he doesn’t know where I am.”
“I’ll tell him,” said Rose softly.
Lily stretched her neck and kissed her on her cheek before Rose waved goodbye
and walked out of the door. Once Lily was alone with her mother, she asked her
if she could braid her hair for when Scorpius came to visit her.
But the next day, it wasn’t Scorpius who came. It was Hugo. He was the last one
of the family who still hadn’t visited Lily. He told her that he was the only
one present when Nott had taken her away, and that it was all his fault, and he
cried, just like Grandma had done. But Lily offered him a Chocolate Frog and
told him that it was not his fault, just like she had done with Grandma. Then
she asked him if he wanted to sit on the floor with her and tell her about
those days when they played at the Burrow, and to describe the feeling of the
sun and the wind on the skin, for her.
And while he did, Ginny felt that it was time for her child to go home.
***
In the dead of night, Lily snuggled closer to her mother. She pushed her nose
against the woman's collarbone, and sighed contentedly, as her mother’s arms
tightened around her to keep her close to her heart. She felt a soft kiss being
planted on top of her head, and then her mother’s cheek leaned against her hair
as she started to hum a lullaby for her daughter and rock her gently against
her chest.
Yes,thought Lily, smiling blissfully, this is definitely what it means to have
a mother.
This is definitely what being loved feels like.
***** Chapter XXIV *****
                                      ***
“That is ridiculous,” snapped Harry, “ridiculous and idiotic and stupid and…
and…”
“I know,” agreed Ron calmly.
“I don’t… I will not go…” he continued. “First of all, that would mean a week
away from Lily… a whole week… and I won’t do it, not now that she’s recovering
so well… and Ginny… she would never accept… never and…”
“Lily will have to go, though,” pointed out Ron.
“Not in the courtroom,” replied Harry heatedly. “Not to face Nott again.”
“No,” agreed Ron again, “but she has to testify against him.”
Harry sat at his desk and gritted his teeth. “What did he say exactly?” he
asked again.
“That he will confess everything, only if you and Ginny are present at each and
every single one of the hearings,” Ron sighed. “He wanted Lily as well, but it
was made clear that that was off the table.” He bit his bottom lip. “He
wouldn’t let go about you and Ginny, though.”
“But it doesn’t matter, does it?” asked Harry nervously. “He will get the
Dementor’s Kiss even if he denies everything. I’ve already testified against
him, and so have Scorpius Malfoy and Al.” He swallowed and lowered his eyes.
Yes, Scorpius and Albus and James and everybody had testified already, and Doge
had agreed to keep them away from the trial – or forbade them in James’ case.
“And Lily will have to do that soon as well…”
Ron took a deep breath. “He said that he is going to use the insanity defence,”
he told him. “Apparently, he did his homework when he set up that fake business
on top of his brothel. He studied the Wizarding and Muggle laws extensively, to
have every paper in order, and he came to know about this little quibble.”
“But that’s a Muggle thing,” protested Harry. “He can’t use it with the
Wizengamot.”
Ron shook his head. “It’s not just a Muggle thing,” he replied gravely. “We had
to go and research what he was talking about, and unluckily it’s not just a
Muggle thing. It’s a very rarely used claim that dates back to the Wizarding
Laws that existed at the time of the Founders.”
Harry darkened. “I don’t need the history lesson, Ron,” he grunted. “What does
that mean for Nott?”
Ron looked at him seriously. “It means that if he claims the insanity defence,
he is not going to get the Dementor’s Kiss. He is not even going to go to
Azkaban. He will be put in the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungo’s for the rest of
his life.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Harry gritted through his teeth. “I should have killed
him.”
“Harry—”
Harry looked at him and darkened. “I should have though,” he muttered. “If I
had, I wouldn’t be here talking about his future. I would be with Lily and
Ginny…”
“You are a good man,” whispered Ron with a soft smile.
Harry looked at him and considered his words attentively. Was he a good man? He
didn’t know. He had wanted to kill Nott, but the moment he had talked to Lily
again he had almost forgotten about him and Goyle and about everybody else. He
knew that he was in the hands of the Ministry; he thought he didn’t have to
worry anymore… and now…
“Doge asked me to try to convince you and Ginny to be present,” he sighed. “He
wants Nott to confess everything.” He bit his bottom lip and took a deep
breath. “He seems to hate him with a passion already. He just wants the whole
Wizarding World to know what a despicable man he is.” 
Harry looked at Ron, his face pale. “I don’t want journalists…”
Ron sighed. “I know. But considering the number of the people indicted, and…
the fact that she is your daughter… We won’t be able to keep them out.”
Harry leaned back against his chair and closed his eyes, his mind weary. He
didn’t want to see Nott. He didn’t want to have to listen to him as he told a
courtroom filled with people what he had done to his daughter. And he didn’t
want journalists to take notes and then write articles about it. But he wanted
him to confess all his crimes and be sent to Azkaban, to get the Dementor’s
Kiss, along with Goyle. Harry had campaigned all his life to reduce the use of
Dementors in Azkaban, but right now he was just glad that all his protestations
had never been listened to.
“We thought something,” continued Ron. “Nott is cunning, much more cunning than
Goyle. He said that he will know if you and Ginny are not you, he wants you two
to be in the courtroom all afternoon with him, and if he suspects that you are
drinking anything but water, he will deny everything and claim that he is
crazy.”
“Ginny, no… though…” Harry whimpered softly. “No… Ginny, no… I can’t ask her
Ron…”
“No,” agreed Ron, “Ginny shouldn’t be there. That’s what we thought. Teddy.
Teddy will be Ginny.” He pressed his lips together and added, “He doesn’t need
Polyjuice Potion to transform and he can wear her features for as long as
necessary.” Ron looked at him seriously. “But you’ll have to be there,” he
said, “for Ginny and for Lily.”
Harry took a deep breath. “I’m so tired,” he said softly. “I just want to take
Lily home and send Nott and Goyle to Azkaban.”
“When is she coming home?” asked Ron, smiling gently.
“After the trial,” replied Harry. “We can’t wait.”
“I’m sure.”
Harry nodded and stood up slowly. “Call Teddy, tell him to start practise,” he
said. “I’m going to the hospital now.”
“Say hi to Lily and Ginny from me, okay?”
“Of course,” replied Harry with a tired smile, as he walked to the fireplace
and disappeared amongst green flames.
***
The sun was warm for being March. There was a slight breeze, which was cold,
but the sun was nice. And it did Scorpius’ aching body good.
“She keeps asking about you, you know.”
Scorpius slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Albus Potter. He was staring
calmly down at him, his face as serene as Scorpius had never seen it before. He
moved and sat on the grass next to him, facing the lake.
“You keep telling her to stop, I hope,” replied Scorpius flatly.
“No,” he said evenly. “I keep telling her that you’ll go as soon as you manage
to get your head out of your arse.”
“Get lost, Potter,” grunted Scorpius, closing his eyes again. Now that they
were no longer in a life-threatening situation he could go back to call him
Potter. He was surely going to go back to calling him Malfoyanyway.
“I should probably mention to her that it’s quite a big head, so it might take
a while.”
Scorpius cracked one eye open and looked at him. “You don’t know anything,” he
said snappishly. “I… I’m not who she thinks I am…”
Potter looked at him with his eyebrows raised. “Who does she think you are?”
Scorpius pushed up from the ground and sat up next to him, he stared at the
lake and darkened. “She thinks I’m her handsome knight,” he said, flushing red,
“her knight in shining armour or something…”
“No!” exclaimed Potter, sarcasm dripping from that syllable. “How dare she! Why
on earth would she think something like that?” He grabbed a rock and threw it
in the lake. “Just because you saved her from that hell of a life? Because you
brought her back to her family after almost seven years of searching? Because
you went against your own family to do so? Because you spent thousands of
Galleons just to sit and comfort her and talk to her?”
Scorpius gritted his teeth. “Sod off,” he murmured. Potter didn’t know
anything. He had been in that cell all the time. He hadn’t seen what Scorpius
had seen. He hadn’t seen what Scorpius had promised Lily wouldn't happen.
“I was there, you know,” he continued. “I was not really unconscious when she
said that she loved you.”
Scorpius snorted and turned towards him. “She doesn’t know what love is,” he
snapped. “She gets her twisted version of love from the romance novels that she
reads. She just has no idea…”
Potter shrugged a shoulder. “Does anybody?”
Scorpius shook his head. “Don’t get all philosophical with me, Potter,” he
hissed.
For a moment, a long, calm moment, the wind was the only thing that they could
hear and Scorpius hoped that the Gryffindor would get tired of staying there
and would walk back to the castle and leave him alone.
He didn’t.
“You know,” he said instead, “every time someone walks into her room at St
Mungo’s, she always asks if you are going to visit her. Every time. Even to the
Healers. And when we tell her that we don’t know, she always looks so sad, it
breaks our hearts.”
Scorpius looked away from him, his heart was breaking too, at the very thought
that he was making her sad. But she was no longer in the brothel, she was back
with her family now. She didn’t need him anymore, and her family was not just
any family. They were the Potters. She was a Potter. He couldn’t go and see her
as if everything was normal. Not when he had not been able to protect the
daughter of the Hero of the Wizarding World from Nott. They didn’t know
anything. They hadn’t been there…
He stood up from the ground, and to his surprise and annoyance, Potter did too.
“I need to finish studying for my N.E.W.T.’s,” he let him know sourly.
“Wait,” said Potter, stretching a hand towards him. “My father asked me to give
you this.” He handed him an envelope, sealed with the Ministry insignia.
Scorpius’ name was printed on it. “He could have owled it to you himself, but I
reckon he thought we needed an excuse to have an awkward conversation.”
Scorpius snorted as he opened the envelope. “Tell him that that’s the only
thing we don’t need,” he replied as he fished the letter out. “What’s this?” he
asked, skimming through the text. An invitation… the Auror training program…
his application would be taken into special consideration… he was very warmly
suggested to apply before July… He looked up and swallowed. “I… I didn’t plan
to become an Auror.”
Potter shrugged his shoulder again. “Nobody is forcing you,” he replied calmly,
“but my father wanted you to know that you will basically be accepted, even if
you get all T’s on your N.E.W.T.’s.” He chuckled and added, “Of course, that
means that you’ll have to train for three years with Rose and me, so, you know…
if you can’t bear the thought of being bested in everything, by my cousin, for
the duration of the training, after seven consecutive years of school… I’d
understand.”
Scorpius couldn’t help smiling at that. “I’ll think about it,” he said, placing
the letter back inside the envelope. “The all T’s thing is quite an incentive.”
Potter nodded. “It is, isn’t it?” He turned on his heels and started walking
towards the castle. “By the way,” he called, once he was climbing up the steps
to the castle, “the Healers said that you’d be considered family, so you can go
whenever you want. No need to follow the visiting hours.”
Potter finished talking, not breaking step once, and never stopped for a
backwards glance.
***
Ginny had Harry’s arm around her shoulder, as she stared at Lily and Elphias
Doge talking on her bed. The old man looked like a loving grandfather, or maybe
great-grandfather, talking to his granddaughter. He was patient, and sweet, and
listened to her carefully. He never interrupted her, not even when she started
talking about Chocolate Frogs and about Viridina. He just smiled and nodded,
and when she finished he asked her another question.
He had been the one to suggest – quite unexpectedly at his age – that he be the
one to come all the way to St Mungo’s, instead of Lily being brought to the
Ministry, for her deposition. Harry and Ginny had accepted with relief, and
felt as if a rock had been lifted from their hearts. So, that morning, he had
come in, sat on her bed, and had started to question her.
His questions hurt. They hurt Harry, they hurt Ginny, they surely hurt Doge as
well, because he blew his nose several times when she told him about the
playroom and what Nott used to do to her when he was angry. The two Aurors, the
three members of the Wizengamot and the two Trainee Healers that were in the
room as well, stared, upset that such a young and innocent-looking girl could
talk so directly of what had been done to her, as if Nott had either managed to
hurt her too much, or not enough.
“And you had to work every night, dear?” he asked her gently.
She nodded. “Every night,” she replied seriously. “Except when I was in the
playroom.”
“Of course,” said Doge softly, “and Lily, have you… have you had sex with all
of the clients?” His voice was uneasy; beads of sweat were caught in his
wrinkles.
She shook her head. “Scorpius didn’t want to have sex with me,” she whispered.
“He just wanted to talk to me.” She looked up at him, eyes wide with hope. “Is
Scorpius coming to visit me today?”
Doge turned towards Harry and Ginny. “I… I don’t…”
Ginny shook her head imperceptibly, her face painting with despair. Why was it
taking him this long? Lily kept asking about him, why couldn’t he just come and
make her happy? He had paid two thousand Galleonsto go and see her, and now
that he could do so for free, he wouldn’t come.
“I’m sure he will come soon,” said Doge, turning towards Lily again, a wrinkly
smile on his face.
She nodded meekly, but her face was suddenly miserable.
Doge rolled the parchment, from which he had read the questions, and handed it
to one of the Aurors. “We brought one of the witnesses to see you, Lily,” he
said gently. “Would you like to see her?”
Ginny squeezed Harry’s hand. That was not what Doge had told them. He had said
that she was going to be asked questions in her room here, and that was going
to be her testimony, and that was all. Nobody had ever talked about a witness
coming to see her…
Lily’s eyes opened wide, like every time they asked her if she wanted to see
someone, as if she was getting ready to see that someone really well. She
nodded, her lips parted.
Doge smiled and nodded. “Let her in,” he said to one of the Aurors.
“Harry,” murmured Ginny apprehensively.
“Doge…” said Harry. But it was too late, the door opened and a small, big-eyed
house-elf, who looked rather terrified to be there, walked inside.
Ginny had never seen Lily react with such swiftness. She let out a small cry of
joy and threw the covers away, scrambling her feet on the floor to get to the
creature. “Taffy!” she screamed, hugging the elf.
The elf squealed in surprise. “Miss Scarlet,” she whined. “Miss Scarlet is
alive and well!”
Lily rocked the elf in her arms for a long moment, tears catching in her auburn
eyelashes as she leant her head on the creature’s little shoulder. “I missed
you so much,” she sobbed. “I was scared that they had killed you.”
Ginny’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at her daughter crying for the
house-elf. It was like a déjà-vu of something she had never even seen, Harry
and Dobby, but Luna had told her everything.
“Miss Scarlet doesn’t need to be afraid for Taffy,” said the elf seriously.
“Taffy is strong.”
Lily nodded and brushed away her tears as she let the elf go. “I’m not Miss
Scarlet anymore, Taffy,” she said gently. “I’m Miss Lily now.”
The elf nodded in understanding, her eyes impossibly wide. “Miss Lily,” she
said, “Miss Lily, Miss Lily, Miss Lily…” She repeated her name as if to
memorise it.
Lily nodded. “Oh, Taffy!” she exclaimed. “You have to meet my mother and my
father.” She stood up and took her little brown hand as she guided her towards
the corner where Harry and Ginny were standing.
The house-elf gasped softly. “Master?” she asked with fear, looking at Lily.
“Oh no, no,” Lily hurried to say. “Master is not my father.”
Ginny’s heart swelled at her words, but she did her best to keep her tears from
falling.
“This is Mother,” said Lily, pushing the house-elf towards Ginny.
“It’s a pleasure, Taffy,” she said, stretching a hand to her.
Taffy squealed in happiness as she shook it shyly.
“And this is Father,” she continued, pointing towards Harry.
“Hello, Taffy,” said Harry gently.
Taffy squealed again and looked back at Lily. “Is Taffy going to live with Miss
Lily?”
“Oh,” breathed Lily, “oh yes.” She went to her mother and knelt in front of
her, hugging her legs. “Can she live with me? Can she, Mother? Please…”
Ginny flushed slightly as she tried to grasp her arms to bring her back to her
feet, but it was only when Harry grabbed her around her waist that Lily let him
help her up. “Can she, Father?” she asked pleadingly.
“Of course, Lily,” replied Harry quickly, smiling. “Taffy can live with us, she
will become friends with Kreacher, that’s… that’s our house-elf, and she will
have a nice bed and food every day, and… and… everything you want, Lily…”
Ginny couldn’t help smiling at the notion of Kreacher becoming friends with
Taffy. Or with anybody at all, really.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Father,” said Lily, hugging him before
kneeling again at Taffy’s height. “You’ll live with me Taffy,” she reassured
the elf.
“Can she, right?” murmured Harry to Doge.
Doge nodded. “We still need her for the trial,” he said, “but when the trial is
over, you can take her home.” He nodded. “Lily kind of is her rightful owner
now, after all.”
Harry nodded and Ginny looked at her daughter, who seemed to be deep in
conversation with the elf about something that had to do with a soup that
consisted of pieces of bacon and potatoes.
She couldn’t help smiling at the scene.
***
Courtroom Twelve was immense and filled with the entire Wizengamot, too many
journalists for Harry’s liking, and the people accused in the trial against
Theodore Nott and the Nott & Goyle case. Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Potter, and
Lily Potter were absent. As was Ginny Potter, but nobody needed to know that.
On the first day of a series of hearings, which would proceed for a week,
Theodore Nott was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, his wrists
tightly tied to the armrests, and two Aurors standing at his sides. On the
chairs behind him, sat all the other people indicted in the case: lots of
angry-looking girls, and many young and old men whose names had been found in
the registries. Goyle was sweating like a pig, and he was twisting his tied
hands, as if trying to break free from his restraints.
Nott’s eyes were fixed on Harry, a slight sneer upon his lips.
Harry’s hand was on Teddy’s arm. His godson looked remarkably like Ginny. He
could have fooled anybody, even Harry himself. He knew what expressions to
pull, what movements she would have made, and even the tone of voice that she
would have probably used if she had been there.
Harry moved his lips to his ear and murmured, “You should try to cry at some
bits, I think, Teddy. Ginny would.”
Teddy turned to look at him. “I don’t think I will have to try very hard,
Harry,” he murmured softly.
Harry nodded gently with a soft, reassuring smile upon his lips. “I know,” he
whispered. “I’m here.”
Teddy nodded and patted his hand on his arm. “Me too, Harry.”
***
“What do you want me to say?” asked Nott, snorting. His eyes were boring into
Harry’s.
“Just a plain recollection of the facts since the day you took Lily Luna Potter
from her grandparents’ house in Devon, Mr Nott,” said Doge icily.
Nott didn’t look away from Harry. “Hmm,” he said, licking his lips. “I remember
that day. That was the day I found myself a daughter, and a little whore to
warm my bed night after night—”
“Mr Nott, foul language will not be tolerated in this courtroom,” snapped Doge.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” he sneered. “The first night Goyle and I took her, she cried
so much and so loudly that she almost deafened me. She was crying for her Mummy
and her Daddy to come and help her. I can still remember her words as if it was
yesterday…” He narrowed his eyes and broadened his sneer. “Daddy, please, Daddy
help me…” he said in a high-pitched tone of voice.
Harry closed his eyes as someone cried an epithet from amongst the crowd.
Suddenly he could hear her too. Lily crying for him to help her as Nott raped
her. His daughter crying for him. For him.For him.
Nott’s vicious vendetta was not over yet. He was going to make Harry suffer.
“Goyle and I took her for the whole night,” he continued. “She was so tiny,
such a tight, warm, little hole. I had to mutter the anti-pregnancy charm at
the last minute, but I hardly think she could have conceived children at that
time, she was so young.”
Harry opened his eyes as he heard Teddy crying next to him. He stretched an arm
towards him and dragged him to his chest. “It’s alright,” he murmured
mechanically. “It’s alright.”
It was not.
He knew that Nott had only just begun.
“I had to take away her memory,” he went on, “completely, wipe it clean. I gave
her a new name and a new identity, and I brought her up as if she was mine. And
she was so obliging, so quick to satisfy my most perverse cravings, so perfect
and polite.” He smirked. “After all, Potter had taken away all my money, I just
wanted to take away something of his… And oh! How I liked to use every single
hole of hers, I made her an expert in the art of—”
“That’s enough,” snapped Doge nervously. “Tell us about the clients.”
Nott rolled his eyes as if he would have rather continued his story. “They
paid, they came in, they fucked her in every way they wanted,” he said curtly.
“Language, Mr Nott!” scolded Doge. “I am not going to repeat myself.”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” said Nott oily. “The clients came to my establishment, they
booked an hour with Scarlet, they paid five hundred Galleons, and then they
were led to a room where my daughter would join them for an hour. They could
have intercourse with her in any way they wanted.” He narrowed his eyes and
smirked again as he stared at Harry. “In her vagina, in her mouth, in her
arse—”
“Mr Nott!”
“—and everywhere they wanted. On the bed, against a wall, on a chair…”
“Mr Nott,” hissed Doge. “That’s enough.” He wiped away some sweat from his
forehead and looked at his papers. “Tell us… tell us about the playroom.”
“Uh,” sneered Nott. “I thought you'd never ask.”
“Do not comment,” snapped Doge. “Just answer the question.”
“The playroom is a wonderful place,” he started. “I had Scarlet in there so
many times, I lost count. Took her from behind, and whipped her until she bled,
locked her in a cage for the night, bleeding and shaking and sobbing, tied her
down to a table as I fucked her tight arsehole…”
The courtroom erupted in cries and clamours, and many of the people there
called Nott names that Harry wouldn’t be repeating to Ginny when he saw her
that night. Doge tried to call the order in the room, but it took him long
minutes to do so.
Harry felt Teddy’s hand on his wrist, and only then did he notice that he was
standing. His hand tightly closed around his wand.
“Harry,” he whispered, looking at him through Ginny’s eyes. “Harry, sit down.”
Harry looked at him and saw that he was still crying.
Harry nodded and collapsed back on the chair. “I… I…”
“I know,” sobbed Teddy.
“That’s enough, Mr Nott,” said Doge, when the courtroom was finally silent once
again. “Did… did everybody know about Miss Potter’s young age?”
“Everybody,” he replied. “Some people like their girls young.”
“Did Mr Goyle have sexual intercourse with Miss Potter?”
Nott smirked. “So many times I can’t count them.”
Goyle squealed in his seat. “No,” he cried. “I never… I didn’t even know her…”
“Silence!” snapped Doge. “And your other employees? Were they there willingly?”
“All with a regular contract,” replied Nott. “Regular health check-ups,
holidays, in-house accommodation and food. All willing.” He said those things
as if to show what a good employer he was, as if that could have somehow
mattered.
“Can you confirm all the names on your registries?”
“All of them.”
“And all the names of the people who asked for Miss Potter in the six years you
had kept her at the brothel?”
“All of them.”
“They all engaged in sexual intercourse with her.”
“All.”
“Except for Scorpius Malfoy.”
Nott snorted. “That’s what he told you?”
“That’s what Miss Potter said,” replied Doge icily.
Nott’s smirk widened as he stared at Harry. “Oh, so you asked her,” he said.
“You asked my little whore… did she describe everything? Every night? Every
day? Every second she spent in my bed…”
The courtroom was again filled with yells and shouts, and Harry closed his eyes
and tried to keep Nott’s voice out of his head for the rest of the afternoon.
***
“How did it go?” whispered Ginny, as Harry sat on a chair and looked at Lily’s
sleeping face.
Harry closed his eyes. “I wanted to kill him,” he murmured. “I want to kill
him.I don’t want to go back for a week. I… I might kill him… in the courtroom…
I might actually kill him… I don’t even care… in front of everybody…”
Harry started to quietly sob, and Ginny’s arms slid around his neck to give him
comfort.
He hugged her back and hid his face in her auburn hair.
He had to be strong. Only four more days. Then he would go back to his life
with Lily.
***
“Tell us about Miss Lily, Taffy,” said Doge gently.
The elf squealed. “Miss Lily is beautiful and nice,” she said. “Miss Lily is
Taffy’s friend.”
“Of course,” replied Doge. “Can you tell us something about the time she was at
the brothel?”
The elf squealed again. “Miss Lily didn’t want to be a whore,” she said. “But
Master wanted Miss Lily to be a whore every night. Even when poor Miss Lily was
all sore and Taffy had to spread ointments that stank, in her poor cunt and in
her poor arsehole.”
“Taffy,” said Doge, grasping the parchment in front of him. “That’s not the
kind of language we use in this courtroom.”
The creature squealed fearfully. “Taffy is sorry, Sir,” she sobbed. “Taffy
doesn’t know.”
“I know,” said Doge quietly, looking at a very pale Harry Potter and his
sobbing wife. “Tell us about the other girls, was Miss Lily your only
responsibility? Were the girls nice to Miss Lily?”
Taffy scoffed at that. “The girls are ugly and jealous of Miss Lily,” she said
forcefully. “The girls tried to kill Miss Lily, and they made her bleed.”
“Little monster,” hissed a girl. “Those are lies!”
“You horrible creature!” snapped another one. “How dare you?”
“You’ll pay for that!” snarled a third one.
“Silence!” said Doge firmly. “Yes, Taffy, please continue.”
The house-elf looked only slightly worried about the threats as she continued,
“Miss Lily didn’t want to take her baths because Miss Lily was scared of the
girls.”
“And what about Mr Nott and Mr Goyle?”
The house-elf squealed again as she started to tell them about what Mr Nott
used to do to her, and the way Mr Goyle liked to use her mouth. And Doge looked
as Mr and Mrs Potter didn’t even try to hold back the tears.
***
“I didn’t touch her,” repeated Goyle. “I didn’t know she was fifteen.”
“Three people have already testified against you, Mr Goyle.”
“They are lies, all lies!” he cried. “I never… never… never touched her!”
Nott laughed, and Goyle glared at him furiously.
“They are all lies… all lies…”
“Enough Mr Goyle,” said Doge calmly. “If you don’t want to collaborate, you
won’t get a chance to defend yourself. The Wizengamot retires for the—”
“Wait… maybe… maybe I fucked her… once or twice…”
Nott laughed again.
***
“She was a slut,” snapped Miss Amelia Jenkins, who had been known by the name
of Lulu amongst her clients. “She walked around as if she owned the place. We
had to bathe her and comb her hair, and prepare her to go to work.” She rolled
her eyes and crossed her arms. “And you tell me we couldn’t have at least a bit
of fun with her?”
Some of the girls laughed, some others were not quite amused.
“What kind of fun did you have with her, Miss Jenkins?” asked Doge frostily.
She laughed. “You know, girl’s fun,” she said. “She has a tongue that does
wonders. And I just repaid the favour with my nails in her cunt.” She tried to
look as innocent as possible as Doge reprimanded her for her language. “She
tried to kill Ebony, did she tell you?”
“Accidental magic is not considered attempted murder,” replied Doge.
“Especially when it is triggered for personal defence.”
“Oh, of course, Scarlet is the little princess, isn’t she?” She looked at Teddy
in Ginny’s body and giggled. “She squealed like a little pig when Mr Nott took
her in her arse…”
***
“I didn’t know she was fifteen.”
“You paid for her and saw her. She doesn’t look like she is seventeen, does
she?”
“I didn’t know, I didn’t ask for her age.”
“Would you have stopped if you knew she was underage?”
“Of course! Who do you think I am?”
Doge looked at his cards distractedly. “A family man who pays for sex with
children?” he countered icily.
***
“I’ve never been there.”
“We know, Mr Malfoy,” replied Doge. “Your name is not in the registries.”
Draco nodded. “Then I don’t know why I’m here.”
“You knew about the brothel, even though brothels are illegal. And you booked
an appointment for your own son.”
“Yes,” replied Draco stiffly, “but I didn’t know she was the Head Auror’s
daughter, nor that she was underage.”
“We know,” replied Doge. “Have you advertised the brothel to any of your family
and friends?”
“No!” snapped Draco.
“Have you been paid by Mr Nott to do so in the future?”
“No, that’s absurd!”
“Did you have plans to visit the brothel yourself?”
“No.”
Astoria’s face was a mask, void of emotions, as she kept her eyes away from her
husband.
***
“You didn’t know what was going on downstairs, Miss Llewellyn?”
The girl shook her head. “All I had to do was keep an eye on the house-elves,
and let the clients in.”
“You didn’t know there was a brothel in the basement?”
She shook her head.
“You’ve never been asked to work downstairs?”
“Never! That’s disgusting!”
“Then why there’s your name in one of the registries?” asked Doge, donning his
lunettes to look at his papers. “You were substituting for a certain Miss
Freya.”
“I… I… it was just a week…”
“That’s all, thank you, Miss Llewellyn.”
***
“Your name, please.”
“Charles Clarks.”
“We found something interesting under your name, Mr Clarks,” said Doge. “A
saving fund for five hundred Galleons.”
“Yes, so?” he asked icily.
“Why five hundred Galleons?”
“Round number,” he said softly.
“To do?”
“That’s personal.”
“Then the reason for payment, on the documents, that says ‘For an hour with
Scarlet’ is to be considered personal?”
***
Friday evening seemed to arrive after Harry’s longest week.
“A verdict has been reached,” announced Doge. “The entirety of the Wizengamot,”
he continued, “had found Mr Theodore Nott, and Mr Gregory Goyle, guilty of the
accusations of forced prostitution, intercourse with a minor, rape, abuse,
segregation, torture, kidnapping, improper use of Memory Charms, and use of the
Unforgivable Curses.” He looked at the two men, tied up and standing in the
middle of the room and continued, “Therefore the Wizengamot sentence them to
receive the Dementor’s Kis,, and to life imprisonment in Azkaban.”
Goyle started to cry shamelessly, but Nott looked impassive at Doge.
“The employees of Nott & Goyle ltd.,” he went on, “are condemned to life
imprisonment in Azkaban, for involvement in forced prostitution, intercourse
with a minor, rape, abuse, segregation, torture, and kidnapping.”
Some of the girls screeched their disappointment, many members of the
Wizengamot clapped their hands and bobbed their heads in agreement with the
sentence.
“Amongst the clients of the brothel, the Wizengamot decided to differentiate
between Miss Potter’s clients and the others. Miss Potter’s clients are
condemned to ten years in Azkaban, for having engaged in intercourse with a
minor, the other employees’ clients are condemned to five years and the payment
of a fine that has to be decided for each case. Mr Draco Malfoy,” he finished,
“is condemned to a year in Azkaban, or the payment of a ten thousand Galleon
fine.”
Draco swallowed hard.
“Case closed,” Doge finally announced as the trial was brought to an end.
Harry moved towards Teddy, and whispered something to him. He looked at Nott
icily, as his godson changed back into himself.
But Nott’s infuriated expression didn’t give Harry any pleasure at all.
***
They looked for the Head Auror, to ask him if he wanted to assist to the
Dementor’s Kiss.
But Harry had already gone back to the hospital.
He didn’t want to see Nott or Goyle. Ever again.
***** Chapter XXV *****
                                      ***
“But… but… do I have to go?” whispered Lily, fidgeting with the Chocolate Frog
Cards in her hands. “Really, really have to go?”
“Oh Lily, darling,” murmured Ginny, sitting next to her on the bed and smiling
comfortingly. “Don’t you want to see your house? And your room? And Taffy?
Taffy is already home waiting for you…”
Lily looked at her mother, eyes shining with tears. “But… does Scorpius know
where I live?” She sniffled. “What if he doesn’t find me?”
“Albus will tell him,” said Ginny gently, brushing the tears from under her
eyes, “and Rose will show him the way. And I’m sure that he will come to visit
you very soon. Very soon indeed.”
Lily nodded. “I think he is my handsome knight, Mother,” she said softly,
leaning her head on Ginny’s shoulder. “Like Viridina.”
“I know, darling, you told me,” she replied sweetly. She tilted her head back
and looked at her daughter. Lily was wearing a pair of jeans that belonged to
Rose and a soft, yellow sweater with an ‘L’ embroidered in green on the front.
Grandma Molly’s present. Lily said that that was the first time that she wore
anything like that – Ginny knew it was not true, but she never corrected her
daughter when she said something that reminded them of the painful fact that
she didn’t remember them or her life before her captivity.
And Lily liked those clothes, so there was no need to make anybody sad.
Au contraire. She was her mother, she knew perfectly well what to say to her to
make her smile again.
“Lily,” she said sweetly, “do you want to go outside this afternoon?”
Lily’s eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise. Suddenly, she seemed
almost unable to contain her joy. “Yes, Mother,” she exclaimed, “yes, please!
Please, Mother!”
Ginny caressed her hair. “Then we better get ready for when Daddy comes to pick
us up,” she told her gently.
Lily nodded eagerly and started to put her Chocolate Frog Cards in the pretty,
beaded handbag that James had bought for her.
And Ginny just smiled, as she felt her heart swell in her chest, at the thought
of bringing Lily home.
***
Scorpius had The Further Adventures of Viridina the Witch and Her Beloved
Knight in his hands. He had ordered one of his house-elves to wrap it in a
colourful paper and add a nice bow on the top. Girls liked colourful papers and
nice bows.
He knew that when people went to visit patients in the hospital, it was
customary, and very probably expected, to bring flowers or chocolates. But
Scorpius couldn’t think of any flower, or any kind of chocolates that Lily
would have wanted more than that book.
His heart beat a bit faster than usual as he dwelled on the fact that he knew
what Lily wanted more than anything in the world. Surely nobody, not even her
brothers or her parents, knew her deepest desires like he did and, for a very
brief moment, Scorpius’ chest swelled with smugness.
It was a feeling that lasted only a few seconds though, because then he
remembered why it had taken him so long to find the courage to finally go and
see her, and he suddenly felt as small and as insecure as a child.
Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was afraid.
Yes, indeed. He was afraid of the moment he would be admitted into Lily’s room,
and finally came face to face with her.
Up until that horrible night – the memory of those hours in the playroom still
gave him nightmares – she had always called him a knight. No, not just any
knight, her knight. And he had let her believe that he was just that.
But now… now he had to come clean. Now he had to tell her. He was not a knight.
He was not chivalrous. He was nothing she thought him to be. He had hoped that
Rose or Albus or Hugo would have already opened her eyes during one of their
frequent visits to the hospital. He had hoped they would let her know what a
despicable, slimy git he was. That would have saved him the awful task of
having to do it himself.
But they didn’t. Otherwise she wouldn’t keep asking for him as she, apparently,
did…
He could almost see her. Her face. Her beautiful, loving face – the thing he
had missed the most about her – looking at him, in horror, as he told her that
he was a despicable man. That he was not worthy of her affection.
But honestly, how had she not realised it yet? Was she really that blinded by
her idea of love? Scorpius still didn’t know how she hadn’t forgotten him yet.
After all, certainly the only reason she had fallen in love with him was
because he was the only one to have treated her right at the brothel. But now…
now, surely, everybody was treating her kindly and lovingly… even much more
than he had ever done.
Scorpius closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And that night… that night he
had promised her that nothing would happen to her, that she just had to trust
him, that he would protect her.
Instead, everything had gone wrong.
He hadn’t protected her. She had suffered, and he had stared into her eyes as
she pleaded with Nott to take her, and hurt her, instead of harming Scorpius.
Did she not know that she had been the knight and Scorpius had been the damsel
in distress that night?
He opened his eyes, and swallowed, as he made his way towards a desk with a
sign that read Inquires on top of it. A dark-haired, middle-aged witch wearing
a bright yellow Wizarding robe was busy giving directions to a couple who had
placed a tall and menacing-looking plant, on the desk, while they listened to
the woman. Scorpius waited patiently for his turn and his mind wandered back to
Lily.
Yes, she had saved herself, and him. She had saved her father even. She didn’t
need Scorpius, he was there just to tell her that. He was not worthy to be with
her… even though he wanted to… Merlin! How much he wanted to be with her! But
he was an idiot. He had been an idiot…
That ankle bracelet, Albus, the playroom… He should have known it wouldn’t have
been that easy. Nott thought of her as a prized possession. His trophy.Scorpius
should have known that he would have fought for her.
And Scorpius should have pleaded louder for Nott to whip him. He should have
never looked away from her… he should have let the magical bonds, that had kept
him in the chair, sever through his flesh as he tried to reach her…
He had been weak and stupid and egoistic… he had been scared and useless and
upset…
And now, he would tell her exactly that. What a pathetic human being he was.
And if that wasn’t enough to take him off of the pedestal she put him on, then
he didn’t know what to tell her… only, maybe, that she should ask her brothers
and her cousins… They would confirm what an idiot he was.
“Hello, Sir,” said the receptionist, snapping him out of his musings. “How can
I help you, today?”
Scorpius took a deep breath. “I’m looking for the Spell Damage Floor.”
“Fourth floor, Sir,” replied the witch promptly. “If you’re looking for a
specific patient, please ask the Information Desk on the floor of your
destination, it’s located right in front of the stairs.”
Scorpius nodded. “Thank you,” he said softly, clutching the book in his hands,
and, at the same time, paying attention not to ruin the bow.
He walked towards the stairs. He was glad that she was on the fourth floor; he
had time to let his mind clear and compel his heart to beat at a less furious
pace.
After all, he had compelled himself to go and see Lily to finally set the
record straight about himself, it wouldn’t have been good if he wasn’t able to
speak to her because he was too nervous. No, he would march in her room, try to
make his brain work long enough before it melted in the presence of her beauty,
and finally tell her that he was not a knight. End of story. And then he would
give her the present and be out of there before she might try to talk to him.
He swallowed as he stopped, for a moment, to stare in front of himself. But
maybe… maybe before he left he would ask her if he could touch her soft skin
one last time. And thread his fingers through her hair. And give her that kiss
that he had never managed to give her…
“Hello Sir,” said a young girl, in a lime green coat, from behind the
Information Desk of the fourth floor. “How can I help you?”
Scorpius bit his bottom lip. “I’m looking for a patient,” he said softly.
“Then you are in the right place,” replied the Healer with a broad smile.
Scorpius nodded stiffly, not really managing to appreciate the witch's
cheerfulness at that moment. “I’m looking for Lily Luna Potter.”
Unexpectedly, the Healer darkened and her tone was suddenly cold. “Of course,
Sir,” she said, studying him from head to toe. “May I see an identification?”
Scorpius stared at her and frowned. “I don’t… I don’t have an identification…”
The witch narrowed her eyes in distrust. “Are you with the Prophet?” she asked
sternly. “Or any other newspaper? Because I’m afraid the Potter Family has a
very strict policy about journalists.”
“I’m not a journalist,” said Scorpius dryly.
“Can you tell me your name, Sir, as we verify your identity?” she inquired,
taking a quill and a piece of parchment from a drawer.
Scorpius sighed. “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy,” he said, expecting her to write it
down.
She didn’t. Instead, she opened her eyes and her mouth wide as she looked at
him. “Scorpius?” she asked in disbelief. “That Scorpius?”
Was he famous? “That Scorpius…?”
But the young Healer wasn’t even looking at him anymore. “Myrcella,” she
shouted to another young girl who was walking past with a pile of folders in
her arms. “Myrcella, come here!”
“Bianca,” replied the other young Healer. “I’m swamped today, what—”
“This is Scorpius!”
The folders fell to the floor with a loud thud, but neither one of the Healers
seemed to notice. Scorpius looked at them perplexed as they stared at him in
bewilderment. “Scorpius?” asked the Healer. “That Scorpius?”
“Well, he asked to see Lily, I’m sure he is that Scorpius!” She narrowed her
eyes again as she surveyed him. “Not a common name anyway, is it?”
Scorpius was about to tell her that no, it wasn’t, and what was the deal with
him anyway? Why were they staring at him as if he was a freak? But Myrcella
beat him.
“Oh! But Bianca, did you tell him?”
Bianca shook her head and sighed. “Not yet.”
“Tell me?” asked Scorpius confused. “Tell me what?”
“Lily went home this morning!” said Bianca with a sigh. “Oh my, Scorpius, why
didn’t you come before?”
Scorpius felt his heart skip a beat at the unwanted news. “I… I…”
“She asked for you every single day,” said Myrcella, “every day. Even when
Healer Pye went in there to visit her. She would ask everybody. Every day, poor
thing…”
“Oh Merlin!” sighed Bianca. “Wasn’t she the sweetest thing ever? She was so
lovely and gentle. We spread those stinging ointments on her wounds and she
would thank us, and we gave her those disgusting potions and she would never
even complain…”
“So adorable,” confirmed Myrcella, “and she would talk to us about Viridina and
about you, and about her family… and to think that she was just learning
everything from her mother… Ah! Such a lovely woman, Mrs Potter! So patient,
and so much in love with her children… And Mr Potter! Such a wonderful man…”
“And how much she loves those Chocolate Frogs!” continued Bianca. “She would
spend hours jumping behind them, and then laughing and eating them!” She turned
and blew her nose in a white handkerchief. “I miss her already…” she sniffled.
“Me too,” murmured Myrcella.
They were clearly distracted as they reminisced about their patient, and
Scorpius just stood there with his heart beating even more furiously than
before. She was a sweet little thing, wasn’t she? And she kept asking about
him… she really wanted to see him…
He should have gone to talk to her earlier.
He gritted his teeth. And Albus-sodding-Potter could have told him that they
had taken her home!
Scorpius shook his head and took a deep breath. Or maybe it was not meant to be
that he saw her. She had gone home that morning. That morning. He had missed
her by only a few hours. Maybe he was not destined to talk to her. Maybe Fate
was protecting the most beautiful creature to ever walk on earth from the
monster that he was. The monster that would break her heart. 
“Do you want her home address?” whispered Myrcella softly. “I don’t think I
should give it to you, but I’m sure Lily would be ecstatic if you went there
today…”
“Oh yes,” said Bianca. “She almost didn’t want to go home, said that you didn’t
know where to find her otherwise…”
“No,” murmured Scorpius, pressing his lips together. “It’s… it’s okay, I’ll ask
her brother.”
“But you’re going today, aren’t you?” asked Myrcella with apprehension.
Scorpius smiled nervously. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s any of your
business,” he replied curtly as he walked away.
***
Lily was standing in the little garden of Grimmauld Place.
Her home.
Mother and Father had showed her the whole house. She had a wonderful room,
filled with books and toys, and paintings that she had done when she was
little, and she found tons of photo albums that her father had prepared for her
to see on her desk. There were presents on the bed and she had spent a whole
hour unwrapping them. From Grandmother and Grandfather, from her cousins, from
her uncles and aunts, and even from Mother and Father and James and Albus.
Clothes and shoes and books and toys and hair accessories. She spent thirty
minutes in front of the mirror putting on a Headless Hat – a present from Uncle
George – and then taking it off and laughing every time her head appeared and
disappeared. And her mother had spread the Out to Lunch Fake Moustache lotion
that Fred had sent her under her own nose, and now she sported a Mexican style
moustache that had Lily giggling incessantly for long minutes, until she asked
Mother to spread some on her and she sprouted a delightful moustache à-la-
Musketeer – as her mother called it. She looked at it in a very satisfied way
and rolled it every now and then around her finger as she kept opening her
presents.
“They are all, all mine?” she asked in wonder as she took out the umpteenth
pair of shoes.
“All, all yours,” said her mother sweetly.
Then they showed her Taffy’s new room, a closet with all the comforts that
Taffy could want. A little bed with a feather pillow, a soft mattress and
blankets and even some nice pictures on the walls. Then she met Kreacher, but
he looked so old and he wasn’t really interested in listening to her as she
told him about her. And he didn’t seem to like Taffy too much as well.
Then she was shown all the rooms of the house. Many, many rooms. The kitchen,
where she could have everything she wanted at any time she wanted, and the
little library, where Ginny and Harry kept their books and told her that she
could read all of them if she wanted. And then the bathrooms and the various
living rooms and sitting rooms and drawing rooms, even though Lily could not
understand the difference at all.
But what she was most interested in was what there was outside. She would stop
in front of every window and look at the green, green grass, just the colour
she had read about, and the blue, blue sky, and the brown, brown trees with the
little flowers that were starting to sprout at that very moment.
“Why don’t we have lunch and then we go outside?” asked her father, placing a
hand on her shoulder.
“Really?” asked Lily in awe.
“Really.”
She ate the soup with little pieces of bacon and potatoes that Taffy cooked for
her, and so did Father and Mother and they agreed that it was the best soup
they had ever had, making Taffy’s chest swell with pride as Lily nodded in all
seriousness. “Because you are my parents,” she told them knowingly, “we like
the same things.”
“Yes,” whispered her father sweetly, his green eyes shining with tears. “That’s
right.”
And finally, she was outside.
She stood right in the middle of the garden. Arms outstretched at shoulder
height, and the sun on her face. She should have closed her eyes because the
sun was the most brilliant thing she had ever seen, but she couldn’t get enough
of outside. The grass was so brilliant and soft under her new shoes, the breeze
was so cold against her cheeks and she could feel her nose freeze pleasantly
under it.
Then a butterfly flew in front of her and she opened her mouth in surprise as
she started following it around the garden. She had seen some of those
creatures in a book, but a real one was ten million times more beautiful than a
drawing. It was only when the butterfly flew away that she turned towards her
parents and walked briskly to where they were sitting.
“Aren’t you cold, Lily?” asked her mother, touching her cheeks with her palms.
“Oh,” she replied, “my nose is all frozen, Mother.” She smiled and asked,
“Maybe I can put some moustache on it? To keep it warm?”
To her surprise, her mother’s expression changed from taken aback to amused
until she finally started giggling and told her that it was truly a wonderful
idea.
Her father chuckled too, and Lily noticed that that was the first time she
heard him laugh.
***
“I’m going back to Hogwarts this evening,” announced Scorpius. “I only had the
afternoon anyway.”
“But I’m sure that if we owl Professor McGonagall and ask her for you to go
back tomorrow, she’ll just be happy to—”
Scorpius shook his head. “No, Mother,” he replied, “I don’t want to.”
“But Scorpius, don’t you want to see her? We can ask for the Potters’ address
as well…” She smiled at him. “You went to the hospital. You want to see her,
and I’m sure she wants to see you too.”
Scorpius kept shaking his head, as if to reassure himself. “No, I… I don’t want
to disturb her at home…”
Astoria looked at him from the other side of the dinner table. She wanted to
tell him something else to try to convince him to go and see her. But he didn’t
look like he wanted to be convinced at all.
He looked like he was too crestfallen to ever go and meet her again.
He looked like he would need a slight push in the right direction to finally
pull himself together.
***
“Lily, if you don’t want to sleep alone…” said Ginny anxiously as she stared at
her while Taffy brushed her hair.
Lily looked at her as she waited for her mother to finish her sentence. “Yes,
Mother?” she asked softly.
“You can sleep with Daddy and me, or… or I can sleep here with you…” She knew
she shouldn’t, she was fifteen after all, but to hell with conventions, she was
her baby and that was her first night in a house that sometimes gave Ginny,
herself, the shivers in the middle of the night.
Lily lowered her eyes and Ginny could see her bottom lip quiver slightly.
Taffy, too, seemed to become slightly more nervous as she pulled a bit at
Lily’s hair.
“If… if I sleep with you and Father…” she started softly, her voice a bit
choked.
“Yes, darling?” said Ginny encouragingly.
“If I sleep with you and Father, will I… will I have to get undressed for
Father?” she finished, her voice a murmur.
It took Ginny a long moment before she actually understood the meaning of her
words, and when she did she felt as if someone had punched her in her stomach.
“Oh Merlin,” she murmured horrified. “Oh no, Lily, no! No! Daddy… Daddy doesn’t
want that.” She swallowed hard to push back her tears. “That’s not what fathers
do to their daughters, my darling. Daddy… Daddy wants you to feel safe; if you
don’t want to sleep alone… you can sleep with Mummy and Daddy… Daddy will move
a bit so that everybody will be comfortable on the bed. And we’ll be all nice
and toasty…”
Lily looked at her, a small, hopeful smile on her lips. “Father doesn’t want to
have sex with me, Mother?”
“No,” murmured Ginny throatily, “no. No… Never…”
Her smile broadened and Taffy seemed to relax as well. “Then can I sleep with
you and Father, please?”
***
“You could have told me!”
Albus stopped in his tracks as he walked out of the Gryffindor Common Room. His
eyes wide as he tried hard to pretend that Scorpius Malfoy hadn’t just scared
him out of his wits. “I could have told you… what exactly?”
“That your sister was going home today!”
Albus looked at the annoyed young man before him. He wasn’t wearing his
Hogwarts uniform, that could only mean that he had just come back from… “You’ve
been to the hospital!” he exclaimed half surprised and half amused. “Oh!
Malfoy!”
Scorpius snorted and turned away. “I went there for nothing…”
“Well, I’ll owl my parents right now,” said Albus, smiling. “When do you want
to go to my house? Tomorrow? Shall I come with you?”
“No!” he snapped, turning to face him. “I… I mean… no… that’s not… I
shouldn’t…”
“What the hell, Malfoy,” Albus snapped back, “you should. You should have
already gone to see her!” 
Scorpius darkened. “No, I told you… I shouldn’t…”
“Listen, Merlin’s beard, just listen to me,” growled Albus. “Before that night,
the very thought of you going close to any of my cousins, or my friends,
revolted me.”
“Well, aren’t you a doll,” deadpanned Scorpius.
Albus took a deep breath. “But now, I am starting to plot slow and painful ways
to kill you, if you don’t pull yourself together and go to see Lily.”
Scorpius shook his head. “You don’t understand, Potter…”
“You went to the hospital! You wanted to see her!” snapped Albus.
“Yes… but… I changed my mind…” He started to walk away and Albus let out a
particularly loud snort.
“Rose has a theory about you,” he called after him.
“Doesn’t she, though?” hissed Scorpius, slowing down his frantic steps without
stopping.
“She said that you are afraid.”
He stopped and turned. “Afraid?” he snapped. “Afraid of what? A fifteen-year-
old? Well then, tell her that she’s not as bright as she thinks she—”
“Afraid to hurt Lily,” Albus cut him off.
Scorpius darkened and muttered something that the Gryffindor didn’t quite
catch, his usually pale face flushing crimson. Rose was always right, thought
Albus, knowing that it was better if he didn’t tell her that.
“Listen, next month it’s Lily’s birthday,” said Albus patiently. “I’m sure my
mother will go overboard and have the biggest party you’ve ever seen, at
Grimmauld Place.”
“I… I thought her birthday was in September…” muttered Scorpius.
“She told you that, right? Because that’s what she thought too,” sighed Albus.
“It’s the tenth of May. I will make sure you’ll get your invitation.”
“I… I have to study on the tenth of May…” he murmured.
Albus laughed at him. “Now you sound just like Rose,” he scoffed. “You better
come by yourself, unless you want me to drag your fat arse all the way to
London.”
Scorpius tried to reply something – some other excuse, surely – but Albus
didn’t let him. He turned and walked away, leaving him there, and smiled when
he heard the Portrait Hole swinging open again and Rose’s voice starting to
scold Scorpius about going to see Lily.
***
Teddy stared at the chessboard. There was something not quite right there.
He was down to three pieces, and even though he had to admit that he had never
been good at Wizard’s Chess, it was not quite right to be beat by a fifteen-
year-old who had learnt how to play only an hour before.
“Checkmate!” cried Lily happily as her Queen moved towards Teddy’s Bishop and
threatened to smash it with her throne.
Teddy looked at her in disbelief, then raised his eyes to glance at James, who
was looking back at them with his mouth open.
“Good job,” murmured Teddy. Honestly, was that normal?
Ron walked into the living room with a glass of pumpkin juice in his hand.
“Here you go, Lily,” he said and placed it on the table near Lily, who thanked
him and smiled, before grabbing it and gulping down the liquid.
He looked at the table. “Did you turn the chessboard around?” he asked frowning
a little.
“Nope,” replied James quietly.
Ron chuckled. “What do you mean? That Lily crushed you, Teddy?” He winked at
him as if to let him know that he knew that he had let her win.
“No, no,” said Teddy softly, “she crushed me alright. I didn’t… I didn’t stand
a chance.”
Ron furrowed his brow. “What? Oh come on, Teddy, I taught her how to play half
an hour ago… all the rules in one go… she couldn’t… I told you to play a test
game with her.”
Teddy stood up as he looked at Lily. She was drinking her pumpkin juice and
licking the inside of the glass now, just like a little child would do. “We
didn’t need to. She remembered all the rules,” he murmured to Ron, “all of
them. I swear, I didn’t… she must have known how to play already.”
James slid from the couch to the floor and knelt next to her. “Lily,” he called
her softly, “Lily, did you… did you already know how to play?”
She placed the glass down and licked her sticky lips. “No,” she replied
seriously, “no, I swear.”
James smiled at her. “You’re having us on, aren’t you?”
She looked at him, almost crestfallen. “No,” she replied. “No, I swear. I would
never lie to you, I swear.” She threw her arms around his waist and hugged him
forcefully, hiding her face in his chest. “I swear James, I’ve never played
before.”
“Hey,” murmured James, “it’s okay.” He hugged her back, rubbing her back
soothingly. “I believe you. You are just… you are just a genius or something…”
James raised his eyes on Ron, but he didn’t seem able to reply anything.
Ginny appeared on the door, eyes wide as she hurried to her children, kneeling
next to them and caressing Lily’s hair. “What’s wrong?” she asked anxiously.
“What’s wrong, Lily? Are you okay, my darling?”
Ron nodded reassuringly to her as he grabbed her upper arm and brought her to
her feet and away from James and Lily. “She beat Teddy at Wizard’s Chess,” he
whispered to her.
“Oh,” replied Ginny, “then why is she crying? What happened?” She looked back
at her daughter apprehensively.
“She’s not crying,” murmured Teddy. “We couldn’t believe that she had never
played before and asked her if she was having us on, and she said that she
would never lie and started hugging James. That’s all.”
Ginny scowled him. “Well, believe her then,” she muttered, “and don’t upset
her!”
“We are not,” replied Teddy defensibly. “We are just… I mean, she remembered
all the rules, never faltered once, it looked like she knew what she was
doing.”
“Well, Ron taught her, didn’t he?” said Ginny. “Wasn’t that the point?”
“Yes,” replied Ron quietly. “What we are trying to say is that she was
particularly quick to learn how to play and to pick up on the rules and
everything.”
“You might not remember, Ron,” she told him sharply, “but my daughter is very
intelligent. She’s always been. A very clever child.”
“I know, Ginny,” replied Ron patiently. “I only mean that that’s not normal.
That she was too quick…”
Ginny darkened. “My daughter is perfectly normal, thank you very much,” she
hissed, turning towards Lily and James again. “Lily, my dear, would you like to
lie down a little? Are you tired? Would you want Mummy to read a story to you?”
Lily raised her face from James’ chest. “Can I play a bit more with Teddy and
James, Mother?” she asked shyly.
Ginny smiled at her. “Of course,” she replied, “of course, Lily, yes… of
course.”
Lily smiled back at her mother and then turned towards James. “Can we play
Wizard’s Chess a bit more, James?” she asked him softly.
Teddy stared as James didn’t seem to be able to do anything but smile at her.
“Of course,” he replied, kissing her forehead.
She beat James. And then she beat her father. And finally she even beat Ron.
But despite that, Ginny would still deny that she was anything but normal.
***** Chapter XXVI *****
                                      ***
Harry walked through the fireplace of his living room and stopped. There were
voices and giggles coming from upstairs. He closed his eyes and smiled; he had
missed giggles in his house, missed them dearly.
“Master Potter is home!” squealed Taffy, waking him from his reverie. “Taffy
takes Master’s jacket! Taffy makes Master a sandwich?”
Harry took off his jacket and smiled at the elf, who was surely an eager,
little creature. “Thank you, Taffy, maybe lat—”
“Nosy, insolent elf,” grunted Kreacher, dragging his old legs into the living
room. “Master Harry is not Taffy’s task. Master Harry is Kreacher’s task.”
Harry stared patiently at him for a fistful of minutes as he made his way to
Taffy and grabbed his jacket. “Taffy doesn’t know how to hang Master’s jacket
properly,” he grunted.
“Taffy knows,” she scowled him. “And Taffy is faster than Kreacher.”
“Taffy is a nosy, cheeky house-elf, and Master will give her clothes if she
doesn’t behave,” snapped Kreacher.
Harry sighed. “Now, now, Kreacher,” he said tolerantly. “Can’t you two
collaborate? Taffy can help you and you could rest a bit more, now that we have
a younger elf in the house… No? Ah, of course not… Never mind… Where are Lily
and Ginny?”
“In Miss Lily’s room,” replied Taffy quickly.
“With Mistress’ mother,” added Kreacher gruffly.
“Thank you,” said Harry satisfied. “See? Not so difficult…” He left the two
house-elves quarrelling in the living room as he started to make his way to the
first floor. The closer he got to the stairs though, the louder the voices and
the giggles became. He could hear Ginny’s and Molly’s and Lily’s silly laughs,
and his heart just swelled at those wonderful sounds.
He stopped at the door and peered inside. The three red-haired women were
sitting on Lily’s bed. In front of them, behind them, around them, and on every
surface of the room, there were pictures. Pictures and more pictures. Moving
and still, magical and Muggle, all scattered in a mess that Ginny would have
never normally allowed in her house, nor Molly would have usually approved of.
“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” he grinned.
“Father!” cried Lily, jumping up and walking on tiptoes to him amongst all the
pictures. She wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly. Harry
hugged her back and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
“Harry, come here,” said Ginny, patting the bed next to her. “Lily, darling,
show Daddy, show him what you can do.”
Lily unwrapped her arms from around Harry and grabbed his hand, to guide him
through the pictures and to her bed, while Ginny gathered some of the photos
aside to make some room for them.
Harry looked at her with a confused frown between his eyebrows, but Ginny just
smiled and nodded as Lily climbed on the bed between him and Molly, and her
Grandmother started to caress her hair almost instinctively.
“Choose a picture, Harry,” encouraged Ginny.
Harry frowned again and picked a photo with a ten-year-old Fred and a six-year-
old Albus sitting on a couch with their arms crossed and sporting matching
pouts on their faces.
“Lily, show Daddy, dear,” whispered Molly encouragingly.
Lily peeked at the picture and smiled. “That’s Fred, and that’s Albus,” she
said. “They were at the Burrow, in Uncle Ron’s old bedroom. Fred had just eaten
all the chocolate cake that Grandmother made, and Albus had tried to slap him,
but Fred had thrown up all over Albus’ trousers and now they were being
punished.” She looked up at Harry and beamed.
Harry turned to look at her with his mouth wide open and his heart beating
furiously in his chest. “Lily… darling, you… you remember…”
Ginny’s hand closed gently on his shoulder. “She doesn’t, Harry,” she murmured
softly, “but she learnt all of them by heart.” She opened her arms to show him
the whole room. “All of them.”
Harry looked around himself. He tried to ignore the silly disappointment that
pervaded every cell of his body. Memory Charms lasted forever, he knew that.
Only torture would bring back Lily’s memories of the time that Nott had
mercilessly wiped away from her brain. And he would have rather died than allow
anybody to torture his daughter. He took a deep breath and compelled himself to
smile. She didn’t remember, but those were thousands of pictures, and that was
a great accomplishment. “How?” he asked gently.
“Just by listening to me when I told her,” replied Ginny sweetly. “Ask her
another one.”
Harry picked another picture, a Muggle one this time.
“Oh,” said Lily, “that’s Aunt Hermione’s mother. She was trying to knit a new
sweater for Rose, Grandmother had taught her how to do it, but she showed her
the magical way and she couldn’t manage to make the needles work.” She giggled
softly and Harry stared at Mrs Granger as she looked puzzled at the knitting
needles hovering in the air in front of her. 
He took another picture and showed it to her.
“That’s Cousin Dudley and his wife Anna and their children, John and Michael.
This was taken when we went to see them for Cousin Dudley’s birthday when he
turned thirty, outside his house in Little Whinging, Surrey.”
Harry placed the picture down on the bed and looked at her. “That’s right,” he
said gently, bringing a hand to her head to caress her hair. “That’s right, my
little genius.”
Lily beamed at him. “Father…”
“Yes, my darling?”
“When Scorpius comes to visit me, can I take a picture with him?”
Harry glanced at Ginny, who looked back at him, and took a deep breath.
“Tons of pictures, Lily,” said Molly gently, “tons of them…”
***
Ginny closed the bathroom door and hurried downstairs. She pushed her head into
the fireplace, sprinkled some Floo Powder all over her hair and muttered Ron’s
address.
“Hermione,” she called out loud as soon as her brother’s living room appeared
before her eyes. “Hermione, hurry! I don’t have much time. Taffy is bathing
Lily, but I think they’ll be done soon.”
Hermione walked into her living room with a cup of tea in her hands and grinned
at Ginny. “Don’t have much time? Hmm… why so secretive, Mrs Potter? Have you
opted for the surprise party then?”
“I still don’t know,” sighed Ginny. “I’m afraid that a surprise party might be
a bit overwhelming for Lily. Especially one where she is the centre of
attention.”
“Well, it’s her birthday after all,” replied Hermione calmly. “And she had
never been anything but enthusiastic when people came to visit her, maybe a
surprise party could be nice…” Hermione furrowed her brow. “Does she know that
it’s her birthday?”
“Yes,” replied Ginny. “She thought her birthday was in September.” She darkened
and hissed, “Nott…”
Hermione nodded in understanding. “I would go for the surprise party,”
suggested Hermione. “Invite the whole family. Maybe Luna… Is she in England by
any chances? What about Neville and Hannah? And… maybe… you know… Scorpius
Malfoy?”
Ginny sighed again. “Al told him already, but I don’t know if he’ll come.”
Hermione cocked his head. “He is a bit overwhelmed as well,” she said gently.
“I’m sure he is feeling quite apprehensive about… you know…”
Ginny nodded. “Al said that Lily confessed her love for him to Nott,” she
murmured. “And surely he… I mean, he wouldn’t have done what he did if he…”
“Surely,” said Hermione brightly, “but I think Rose is right, he is a bit
scared to hurt her.”
“He is hurting her,” replied Ginny curtly, “by not coming to visit her.”
“He probably doesn’t understand that.”
Ginny shook her head. “Boys,” she sighed.
“Boys,” agreed Hermione.
“Okay, I better check on Lily,” said Ginny. “I will owl you the details for the
party tonight and you’ll let the others know, okay?”
“Of course,” replied Hermione. “I’ll swing by this afternoon anyway, though;
I’ve found a book, which Lily might like, in Rose’s room.”
Ginny beamed at her. “We’ll wait for you, then.” And with that she pulled her
head out of her fireplace and hurried upstairs to check on her daughter and her
house-elf.
***
Harry’s hand was squeezing Lily’s so tightly, his daughter was surely trying
hard not to whimper. But Harry was nervous, and all he wanted was to be close
to her.
“Are you ready, Lily?” asked Healer Pye with a smile.
Lily nodded seriously and, with a flick of his wand, the Healer turned all one
hundred Chocolate Frog Cards face up on the table. A hundred different faces
squinted their eyes in the light of the room, and a couple grunted their
disappointment. Hermione’s card looked at Ron’s, and shook her head, as her
husband seemed to have fallen asleep.
“You have ten seconds, dear,” said the Healer, and Lily nodded again.
Ginny’s favourite thing to say about Lily, nowadays, was that her daughter was
perfectly normal. And Harry was sure she was absolutely right. Lily Luna Potter
really was perfectly normal: she was healthy, she laughed all the time, she was
sweet and nice and loving with everybody.
But…
Harry couldn’t possible deny the fact that there was something about his
daughter that was not quite there, when she had been a child. Everybody had
noticed. Teddy before everybody else, but even Ron and James, and basically
every person with whom she had come into contact.
Lily’s memory seemed to have been enhanced by something and her intelligence as
well. Harry didn’t know what had happened, he just knew that it was not normal
for a person to read a book once, and then be able to recite it by heart
afterwards. It was not normal to remember thousands of pictures, and their
stories, after having heard her mother talking about them no more than twice.
It was not normal that she could beat Ron at Wizard’s Chess. Merlin’s beard!
Harry had tried for years to beat him!
So he had brought her to St Mungo’s – with Ginny’s knowledge, but without her
approval. And he had asked Healer Pye to have a look at her to make sure that
everything was just as normal as they hoped.
“Okay, Lily?” asked Healer Pye. “I’m going to turn them over now.”
“Okay,” replied Lily quietly, and the cards just flipped on the table once
again.
“How would you like to proceed? Shall I point a card or would you want to go in
order?”
She shrugged a shoulder and shook her head. “I don’t mind,” she replied with a
shy, little smile.
“Then why don’t you start from the top row here?” He pointed to the card
farthest away from her and she nodded. “Start when you are ready, dear.”
“Armando Dippet,” she said immediately.
Pye tapped the card with his wand and it turned to reveal the old Headmaster
face, smiling benevolently at them.
“Very good, Lily,” said Healer Pye. “You can keep going.”
“Gondoline Oliphant. Paracelsus. Oswald Beamish. Queen Maeve. Auntie Hermione.”
She stopped to look at her father, with a beam, and then continued, “Salazar
Slytherin. Wendelin the Weird. Newt Scamander…” She stopped only when she
reached Harry’s card, just to give him a hug, and then kept going. And she
continued and continued until she reached the very last card, and she didn’t go
wrong once, nor did she stammer before any name.
All one hundred cards. All right.
“That’s very good, Lily,” Healer Pye complimented her. “Very good, darling.” He
smiled softly as he piled the Chocolate Frog Cards in a corner. “Would you like
to go and see Bianca and Myrcella, dear? They are waiting for you in the
corridor, maybe you can go upstairs to the cafeteria and have a hot chocolate,
what do you think?”
Lily smiled excitedly at the mention of the two Trainee Healers. “Oh yes,” she
replied, “can I go, Father? Can I?”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of parting from his daughter, even
if he was going to see her again in a matter of minutes. Nonetheless, he smiled
warmly at her, doing his best to hide his discomfort. “Sure, darling, sure,”
replied Harry as she kissed his cheek and bolted for the door at once.
Once the door clicked closed again, Healer Pye smiled at Harry. “She is a sweet
child, Mr Potter,” he said gently, as he scribbled down on a file.
Harry nodded. “She is,” he agreed quietly. “Healer Pye, is she… is she
alright?”
“She looks perfectly fine to me,” he replied with a smile.
“But that… that trick with the cards… that’s not normal, is it?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not,” he replied, “but I don’t think it’s anything
you should worry about.”
“But she wasn’t like this when she was a child… are you sure it’s not something
that will… I don’t know, that’ll get out of control?” asked Harry anxiously.
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” he replied, “but so far she doesn’t look too
overwhelmed by her gift.”
Harry took a deep breath. No, she wasn’t overwhelmed, she looked fine, really,
but still… Harry couldn’t help worrying. “But, what might have caused it?” he
asked softly. “My wife said… she said that maybe it’s because she has a lot of
space in her head since more than half of her memories had been wiped away.”
Healer Pye raised his eyebrows. “I think that’s highly unrealistic, Mr Potter,”
he replied. “We don’t know what might have caused this reaction in her brain,
maybe she had always been like that but you’ve never noticed. Or maybe… maybe
it was some kind of… treatment… that Nott subjected her through the years.” He
smiled kindly. “But it’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure.”
Whether Healer Pye was saying those things to make Harry feel better, or
because it was true, Harry didn’t know, but he did feel a bit better anyway.
“So she is okay, I mean… she is just… a genius?”
Healer Pye nodded. “You can call her that. I prefer someone with a gift,” he
told him gently.
Harry nodded back and finally smiled. Someone with a gift. Yes, she was. And
she was perfect and perfectly normal.
And she was with them again now.
***
The tenth of May arrived faster than any of them had anticipated and that very
morning something else, that nobody had anticipated, arrived as well.
Ginny stared at the big envelope, with Lily’s name on its back, and the
Hogwarts crest on the other side. Her eyes wide, her half-made cup of tea
forgotten on the counter. “Oh my,” she murmured as the big Snowy Owl flew out
of her kitchen window with a hoot.
“Was that post?” asked Harry, walking into the kitchen with a soft smile upon
his lips. “Lily is in the bathroom, she’ll be down here in a—”
“Lily’s letter,” Ginny cut him off frantically. “From Hogwarts.”
Harry’s lips parted in surprise as he sat at the table. “Oh,” was all he could
say. “That’s… I haven’t thought about that…”
“She… she can’t go, Harry… she can’t go, that’s… that’s ridiculous,” said
Ginny, fighting the desire to tear the letter in half. “She’s not eleven… what
will she do? She should be a sixth year, but she surely won’t be… she’ll be a
first year… no… no that’s ridiculous…”
“Ginny…” murmured Harry softly.
Ginny glared at him. “Don’t Ginny me,” she thundered. “What if the other
students make fun of her? She can’t… she can’t take care of herself… she is…
she can’t even bathe alone!”
Harry nodded and smiled. “I will miss her too,” he said quietly.
“No, Harry, no! You don’t understand, I’m serious… she is… she needs me…”
“It’s her birthright.”
Ginny turned to look out of the window. “I… I thought I could teach her, you
know… We could go to Ollivander’s this summer and we could get her a wand, and
then I could home school her… and Hermione could help me…”
“Hermione has a job, remember?” said Harry gently. “And didn’t the Prophet
contact you for that position as a Quidditch correspondent?”
“But Lily wouldn’t need much of my time,” she whined. “She is so intelligent…
remember the pictures? Healer Pye said she has a gift, didn’t he? Please,
Harry…”
Harry nodded. “I think she might be a Ravenclaw,” he told her thoughtfully.
“Harry!” said Ginny exasperatedly, turning to look at him. “Are you even
listening to me?”
Harry stood up and walked to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace. “How
about,” he whispered, “we ask Lily what she wants to do?”
“Harry…” she whined.
He brushed her red locks from her face, before kissing her forehead. “Isn’t
that the right thing to do?”
Ginny’s bottom lip quivered. Yes, it was, but the thought of losing Lily again,
even if it was to Hogwarts, made the tears swell in her eyes.
Suddenly a small arm wrapped around Ginny’s middle and she started slightly as
she turned to look at Lily’s beaming face. She looked up at her and at Harry
with her hands on their backs as if she was trying to hug them both.
“Oh, Lily,” said Ginny as Harry let her go. “Happy birthday, my sweet, sweet
darling.” She squeezed her securely in her arms and Lily hugged her back.
“Oh,” she replied, almost quivering in excitement in her mother’s arms, “it is
my birthday, isn’t it?”
“Of course it is,” said Harry, as he kissed her hair and wished her happy
birthday as well. “And you’ve got post.”
Lily’s eyes burned so bright at the news, that Ginny felt guilty for having
thought about tearing the envelope apart.
“Post?” she asked, involuntarily squeezing her mother in her arms. “For me?”
“A special delivery from Hogwarts,” beamed Harry, nodding towards the table.
She let out a small cry of surprise and excitement as she leapt for the letter.
Ginny stared at her with apprehension, when Lily picked the missive up and read
the envelope with her face all screwed up in concentration. Her lips moved
slightly as she read the words.
“It is for me!” she exclaimed, her hands shaking in excitement. “From Hogwarts!
Can I open it? Please, Mother, can I open it?”
“Of course,” murmured Ginny faintly.
She opened it carefully, as if afraid to break it somehow. And when she took
out the letter, she read it out loud for them to hear. Ginny’s heart clenched.
                             [Letter_zpsa16b37ce]
When she reached the end of the letter, Lily let out another cry of joy, before
she started to jump up and down about the kitchen. “I’ve been accepted! I’ve
been accepted!” she kept repeating.
Harry beamed at her, and Ginny knew that the words that she had been about to
speak – “You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to…” – would have just sounded
stupid now. But how she wished Lily wouldn’t want to go! Was she being just
incredibly selfish? She really didn’t think so. That was her daughter; and
someone had taken her away, and she had only got her back now. She was being
perfectly reasonable, when she thought that she didn’t want her to—
“There’s a letter for you, Mother,” said Lily suddenly, drawing out another
parchment from the envelope.
Ginny bit her bottom lip. “Oh, that’s… that’s the list of things you’ll need,
Lily…”
“Oh no,” said Lily, narrowing her eyes again as she read the first few words of
the letter. “It’s for you.”
“Me?” asked Ginny faintly. Was McGonagall going to apologise for sending the
letter to Lily? She should have.
“It says, Dear Mrs Ginevra Molly Potter,” read Lily, “that’s you, Mother. Your
name is Ginevra, and then you’re called Molly like Grandmother, and then you’re
called Potter because you married Father.”
Ginny smiled softly at her. “That’s me,” she said as she took the letter from
Lily’s hand. She didn’t want to read it out loud, but Lily was looking at her
expectantly, maybe wondering if she had been accepted at Hogwarts all over
again just to be with her.
She looked at the letter and her eyes widened. She kind of had been accepted to
Hogwarts all over again.
“Ginny?” asked Harry concerned. “Is everything okay?”
She looked up at Harry and beamed just like Lily. “I’m going to Hogwarts!” she
cried happily.
Lily let out another scream of happiness as she went to hug her waist. “Mother
is going to Hogwarts with me!”
Harry furrowed his brow. “What… what are you talking about?”
“Madam Hooch is going on an early retirement,” replied Ginny, fighting the
desire to jump up and down like Lily had done. “They need someone to teach
Quidditch to the students!”
Harry chuckled lightly. “And do you think you’ll accept the position?” he asked
her, trying to sound serious.
“Oh shut up, Harry,” Ginny scolded him playfully. “Lily, Mummy is coming to
Hogwarts with you! She’ll teach you how to fly. Look at you! You’ll make… hmm…
a great Chaser, yes, just like me…”
“I vote for Seeker,” pointed out Harry, but Ginny was too busy hugging Lily and
finally jumping up and down to reply to him.
***
It had been a surprise. The best surprise ever, and Lily had thanked Mother and
Father so many times she had lost count.
Grimmauld Place was swarming with people, like Lily had never seen. And they
were all there for her. All of them. And all of them had presents, and there
was cake and sweets and colourful hats, and games and all of her cousins and
relatives and everybody was asking her if she wanted to play some game, or to
go out in the garden to sit in the sun, or to read with them, or to have
another slice of cake without Grandmother knowing.
And she loved them all. She loved Lucy, and the fact that she was so shy, that
Lily had to ask her if she wanted to play with her. She loved Fred who kept
fishing funny products out of his pockets and laughed heartily when Lily
giggled at how funny he was. She loved Rose who would sit with her and hug her,
like a mother, and tell her stories. She loved Victoire who would use her wand
to make Lily’s hair turn blue and then yellow and green and pink, just like
Teddy’s, her boyfriend, who would then turn his own hair to match Lily’s.
And then there was Grandmother Molly and Grandfather Arthur who would kiss her
sixteen times to wish her a very special birthday. Then James and Albus, who
told her that their present was to take her to Diagon Alley, on the weekend,
and have her choosing anything she wanted from any shop she wanted. She had
looked at them with eyes wide and whispered, “I’ve never been in a shop!”
And Uncle Ron who took pictures of her as she blew the candles on her cake, or
while she sat on the couch near Dominique and Louis, or when she went to hug
Mother and Father for the beautiful, beautiful new dress. And the new shoes.
And the new books.
And then…
“Lily, do you want to come outside with us?” asked Rose gently. “We have
another present for you…”
She felt her heart flutter in her chest. “Another?” she asked, her voice thick
with emotion. She had gotten more presents than she knew what to do with, for
the rest of her life. More books than she could read, more clothes than she
could wear, more sweets than she could eat. But none of them compared to the
gift of having all those people around her. People who loved her for real.
People who loved her because she was her.
People that didn’t want to use and abuse her.
Rose smiled warmly at her as she grabbed her hand and guided her towards the
door. Albus and Hugo followed them.
“It’s getting cold outside,” said her mother apprehensively as she spotted
them.
“We’ll only be a minute, Auntie Ginny,” promised Rose gently, but Lily stopped.
“Can I go, Mother?” she asked softly.
Her mother smiled. “Yes, yes,” she replied, “but only a minute, then you come
inside, you are not dressed warm enough…”
She nodded, and finally they were walking into the garden.
“Lily,” said Rose, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you call
your parents Mum and Dad?”
Lily lowered her eyes. “I don’t know…”
“They would like that, you know,” said Hugo, smiling at her.
“They would like ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’…” pointed out Albus.
She swallowed. “I… it’s just that…”
“Yes?” Rose encouraged her with a warm smile.
“Mr… Mr Nott said that… that ‘Dad’ and ‘Daddy’ are not respectful enough… that
I should always use ‘Father’…”
Albus grabbed her upper arm gently and made her turn to look at him. “Anything
Nott has ever told you, Lily, you should forget – even though I know it’s not
easy for you to forget,” he said darkly. “Mum and Dad want you to call them
whatever you want, but not because Nott had told you to use a word over
another. ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’ are less… cold… less coldish… than ‘Mother’ and
‘Father’.”
“Easier to say as well,” agreed Hugo with a grin.
“And they make Auntie Ginny and Uncle Harry happy,” added Rose.
Lily considered their words attentively. She didn’t want to be disrespectful of
the people that loved her so unconditionally, but they were right… Mother and
Father really insisted on those appellatives… She should have probably tried
to—
“Okay,” said Rose as they stopped under a tree. “Close your eyes.”
She did it and grinned wide as she felt the three of them getting closer around
her.
“Stretch your hands in front of you,” said Rose.
Again, she did as she was told and felt a little, rectangular package be placed
on her palms.
“And open,” said Albus.
Lily opened her eyes and stared at the colourful present with a big, elegant
bow on top. “Oh,” she beamed. “Thank you!”
“It’s not from us,” said Hugo, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
Lily’s lips parted in surprise. “No?”
Rose smiled at her. “It’s from Scorpius,” she said softly. “He couldn’t come
today and—”
“Yes, he is sick,” snorted Albus. “He has an acute case of stupidity.”
“Al!” snapped Rose, but Lily already wasn’t listening to them.
A present. From Scorpius.
She had started to think that he had forgotten her. That he didn’t love her
like she loved him. That he hated her because he had to suffer for her that
night in the playroom.
But if he did hate her then he would have never sent her a present. A present
on her birthday. All for her. From him. A present. A beautifully wrapped
present with lots of colours and a bow. She loved bows. How did he know that
she loved bows? He really was her knight.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” asked Hugo with a grin.
Rose elbowed him lightly in his ribs. “She’ll open it when she wants to open
it, Hugo,” she said severely.
“I want to open it,” she said resolutely, starting to carefully unfold the
paper, and paying attention not to tear it. She wanted to conserve everything,
even the bow. “Oh!” she exclaimed as she read the title of the book. The
Further Adventures of Viridina the Witch and Her Beloved Knight. “Oh! Oh!
Viridina!” she whispered in awe.
“He knows that you like her,” said Rose sweetly.
Lily’s eyes filled with tears. “I love her,” she admitted softly, before
looking at her cousin. “Is he coming to visit me?”
Rose smiled at her. “Soon, I’m sure about that.”
“He asked us to wish you ‘Happy birthday’ from him, Lily,” murmured Albus.
Lily smiled as she brushed away her tears. “Can you tell him that I love him?”
she asked softly.
Albus stiffened slightly, and Hugo turned as red as his hair at Lily’s
admission.
“I’ll do it,” replied Rose sweetly. “Now let’s go back inside before your Mum
starts looking for you with a scarf, mittens and a hat in her hands.”
Lily folded the paper and grasped the book securely in her hands as she nodded.
When they walked back into the house, the birthday girl looked for her mother
first.
“Mummy! Mummy! Look!” she said, running to her. “A present! From Scorpius!”
Her mother looked at her and took a sharp breath. “Lily, darling, what did you
call me?” she murmured.
“Mummy,” she replied softly. “Look!”
“It’s wonderful,” she told her in a whisper, as she hugged her tightly, and
somehow Lily could sense that she wasn’t talking just about the present.
***** Chapter XXVII *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                                      ***
“She loves you.”
Scorpius blushed furiously and tried to disappear behind the book he was
reading for his N.E.W.T.’s: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 7) by Miranda
Goshawk.
“She asked me to tell you,” said Rose simply.
Scorpius bit his bottom lip as he peered at her from over the tome. “Thank
you,” he replied stiffly. “Did she… did she like…”
“Loved it,” grinned Rose. “Said it was the best present she received, to my
uncle’s dismay. I think she has already read it all. Twice at least.” She
looked at Scorpius as he tried to wipe his goofy smile from his face without
really managing. “She asked when you’d go to visit her and—”
“Thank you, Weasley.”
***
The Eagle Owl stared grumpily at Ginny as she read the letter that she had just
been delivered. “Oh!” was all she could say as she reached the bottom of the
epistle. She felt very much like Lily: surprised beyond belief about something
as silly as a missive. But in her defence, that was not a letter that one
received every day.
The owl hooted disagreeably at her when she sat unmoving on the kitchen chair
for what might have been minutes.
“Oh, alright, alright,” snapped Ginny, grabbing a quill and a piece of
parchment. “I’m replying already.” But she couldn’t help feeling her lips
twitch upwards into a smile.
***
“Have I already told you that she said that she loves you?” asked Rose.
Scorpius groaned and wished he had Potter’s Cloak at that very moment. “Today?”
he asked with a sigh. “Only twice.” He looked at her and narrowed his eyes.
“Are you trying to wear me down?”
“Ah!” exclaimed Rose. “So you are not stupid!” She leant her back against the
door of his compartment and crossed her arms, apparently not wanting to leave
him alone just yet. After all, it was her last chance to pester him about Lily.
Scorpius rolled his eyes. “I was about to read a book,” he said sourly. “You
always tell us about the importance of reading, so…”
“Well, I always tell you about the importance of going to visit Lily, but I
don’t see you doing it,” she replied calmly.
Scorpius groaned. “Please, Weasley, tell me something else,” he sighed,
“anything… tell me again how you got all O’s in your N.E.W.T.’s, or that you
have already written your Auror application letter fifty times over, or how you
were—”
“Oh, I almost forgot! Are you applying to be an Auror?” she asked him, smiling
and ignoring his river of words.
He lowered his eyes and darkened. “I don’t know yet,” he replied. “Maybe… I’m
not looking forward to having you and your cousin driving me up the wall about
you-know-who for another three years…”
“I should hope that you would go and see her before three years have passed…”
Scorpius sighed. “Listen, I have patrol now so—”
“You are not a Prefect.”
“I meant that you’ve got patrol…”
“Not on the very last train ride home from Hogwarts…” she said quietly with an
almost melancholic note in her voice. “I’m going to miss it. Hogwarts, I mean…
Aren’t you?”
“I guess…” he replied softly.
“I almost envy Lily, starting next year…”
“She’s going to Hogwarts?” asked Scorpius, his eyes suddenly wide.
She nodded softly. “Got her letter on her birthday.” She grinned and brushed
some curls from her eyes. “You better go and visit her before the first of
September you know…”
***
Astoria folded the letter and put it in her pocket as she heard Scorpius’ steps
approach the drawing room. She put on a smile and raised her eyes to look at
him as he came in. “Did you sleep well, Scorpius dear?” she asked brightly.
He looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. “Fine, thank you, Mother,” he replied
slowly. “And you?”
“Like a baby, dear,” she replied sweetly. “Would you like some breakfast? Or
maybe a little brunch today? Would you like to eat in the garden? I think it’s
warm enough, isn’t it?” Her smile widened. “Have you decided what to do about
your Auror application, darling?”
He tilted his head a little as he stared at her. Surely he must have felt that
there was something going on with her. She was never that cheerful. She had
been happy to see him when he had come back from Hogwarts two weeks before,
especially because the Manor was a lonely place when the only company a person
got was that of the house-elves, but she knew that she was acting
uncharacteristically cheerfully and surely her son could sense that. She
couldn’t stop herself though.
“I’d love some breakfast,” he replied calmly, as he ruffled up his unruly hair,
“and I decided that I might as well apply for the job. It’s not like I would do
anything else anyway… and it might interesting, you know… just to keep me busy
with something…”
“Wonderful, Scorpius,” she beamed.
Scorpius nodded thoughtfully. “When is Father coming home?” he asked softly.
His mother darkened slightly, but forced out a smile as she looked at him. “End
of August,” she said stiffly. “Just in time to see you start your training as
an Auror, then.”
“If I am accepted…”
“I’m sure you’ll be.”
He didn’t reply, but a soft smile played on his lips. “I’m going to get some
breakfast, Mother,” he said after a while.
“Sure, Scorpius,” she replied. “Ah, darling,” she said as an afterthought, “we
are having a guest for tea this afternoon.”
Scorpius stopped on the door and turned to look at her. “Who?” he asked,
furrowing his brow.
“I can’t tell you,” she replied with a smile. “But please, do dress quite
elegantly.”
***
Ginny had never been to Malfoy Manor before, but she had heard Harry, Ron, and
especially Hermione, describe it so many times that, as soon as the tall walls
appeared in front of her eyes, she knew that she had Apparated in the right
place. Then, when a little, frightened house-elf squealed and opened the gate
as she approached it, repeating, “Welcome, Mrs Potter, Mistress is waiting for
you,” over and over again, she was absolutely certain that she was at the right
address.
Of course, in case she still had any other doubts at that stage, the gigantic
M’s placed practically everywhere – over the iron bars at the gate, on the
roofs of the towers, at the windows, and even in the M-shaped rose bushes –
would have clarified once and for all any reservation she might still have
about her location.
Ginny followed the creature all the way through the park. It was immense. A
gigantic garden, filled with flowers and trees and benches. Harry had not
described it like that at all, but in all fairness, Ginny was quite a bit
certain that those flowers and those nice benches were Astoria’s additions. She
was, after all, quite nicer than any of the Malfoys Ginny had ever met. Of
course, not that she had ever met Astoria before – she had just talked to her
through the sparse correspondence of the past few weeks and maybe glanced at
her askew at King’s Cross every time she went to collect or bid farewell to her
children in the past seven years – but there was a point over which they both
reckoned they could definitely bond.
Their children were longing to see each other, and somehow they couldn’t.
Whether it was because one wouldn’t know how to find the other or because the
other was afraid to hurt the first one, of only one thing both Astoria and
Ginny were sure about: Mothers should join forces to put an end to all that
nonsense and drama, and help the two beloveds finally find each other.
Astoria had suggested to Ginny, to bring Lily to the Manor, with the excuse of
having tea with an old friend of her mother – apparently, she wanted to look at
Lily as she saw Scorpius; it appeared that Astoria was far more romantic than
Ginny would expect a Malfoy to be – but Ginny had opted for a less drastic
solution:coaxing Scorpius into going to see Lily at Grimmauld Place.
She knew that Rose and Albus and Hugo had tried hard for months to convince him
to go and see her, and she had been dismayed to learn that he had almost done
that but missed Lily, for a fistful of hours, at the hospital, but she was sure
that all he needed was the right incentive, and then he would knock on the door
of Grimmauld Place the following day.
The house-elf pushed the great oak door open and bowed deeply in front of Ginny
as she walked into the massive hall.
“Ginevra,” was the first thing she heard as she stepped inside, “you are
fabulously on time.”
Ginny raised her eyes to the beautifully dressed woman and smiled. “Thank you,
Astoria,” she replied, somehow Draco Malfoy’s wife felt comfortable using her
first name. Ginny had not expected that. In her letters she had always
addressed her as Mrs Potter and she had called her Mrs Malfoy. But Ginny had to
admit that it was not an unpleasant surprise. “You have a beautiful garden.
Lily would love it.”
Astoria looked intently at her for a long moment. “Then I’d like to invite her
to explore it with Scorpius,” she said seriously.
Ginny smiled at her. “That’s really gracious, thank you,” she replied, “maybe
after Scorpius has come to Grimmauld Place though.”
Astoria nodded, and if she was disappointed, she didn’t show it. She guided her
guest through a tall, decorated door and gestured for her to sit on a precise
chair. “You’ll be the first person he’ll see when he comes in,” she explained,
“but I have to warn you, I’ve tried incessantly to tell him to go and visit
your daughter for the past few months, and he has never changed his mind.”
Ginny smiled, unconcerned by the news. She pushed her hand deep in her pocket
and fished out a voluminous stack of photographs. “Well, I brought something
that might change his mind,” she said calmly. “Would you like to see them?” she
asked to Astoria, unable to keep the pride out of her voice.
Last time Scorpius had seen Lily, she was… No, Ginny didn’t want to know how
she was, how she had looked like that day. They hadn’t let her in to be with
her daughter and Harry hadn’t described the way she had looked to her. And she
was grateful for that. But surely Scorpius had forgotten how perfect and normal
she was, and what a kind and loving face she had.
Astoria took the stack into her hands and Ginny stared at the woman as she
looked at them. “That’s Lily, the day of her birthday,” she explained, “blowing
the candles on one of her cakes.”
Astoria smiled softly as she stared at the girl that her son loved.
“That’s Lily opening her presents,” she continued as Astoria changed picture.
“And that’s her trying to fly for the first time. She is sitting behind James,
her brother.”
Astoria bit her bottom lip. “Yes,” she murmured. “I can see why my son is so
enamoured with her.” She raised her eyes and snapped her fingers, and suddenly
a house-elf appeared in front of them.
For a moment, Ginny imagined herself snapping her fingers at Grimmauld Place
and having Kreacher and Taffy killing each other over who should appear first.
“Tell my son to come downstairs,” ordered Astoria. “Our guest is here.”
The house-elf squealed and disappeared again with a loud crack.
“She is lovely,” murmured Astoria, looking back at the pictures. “I… I can’t
believe Nott was amongst Draco’s guests at our wedding…”
Ginny took a sharp breath and swallowed, nodding stiffly. “I’m sure you
couldn’t imagine… couldn’t imagine that he…” Her words trailed away, her
eyesight suddenly blurred with tears.
“No,” replied Astoria dryly. “I certainly couldn’t.”
Ginny had just the time to brush away the tears that threatened to spill over
the corners of her eyes at the mention of Theodore Nott, when the door of the
drawing room opened and a very elegant and very bored-looking Scorpius walked
inside. His eyes wandered from his mother to Ginny and he suddenly stopped in
his tracks, completely petrified with surprise and apprehension.
“Hello Scorpius,” said Ginny promptly, standing up to go and hug him. “I’ve
been waiting for you to show up at Grimmauld Place for ages.”
Scorpius stiffened slightly as her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed
him gently on his cheek. He seemed to try to hug her back in the gentlest way
he could muster, but his hands were too shy to linger on her back. “I… I…” was
all he could stammer.
“I wanted to thank you for what you did for my daughter,” she continued,
letting him go and bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks. “And my husband as
well, he would love to thank you. Oh, and if you have your Auror application
ready, I will be more than happy to deliver it to Mr Potter.”
“I’m sure he does,” said Astoria gently. “Come, Scorpius, Mrs Potter brought
some pictures for you to see.”
Scorpius looked from Ginny to his mother and then back. His grey eyes were
still wide with astonishment at having Lily’s mother coming to visit him at the
Manor. “P-pictures?” he asked softly.
“Oh,” said Ginny as she released his face. “Yes. Lots of them. Lily loves
pictures. It’s a bit like seeing memories for her, I guess…” She went back to
sit near Astoria and flipped through the pictures carefully, searching
specifically for one in particular. “Here,” she said, handing it to Scorpius.
In the photograph, Lily was sitting on the couch of the living room in
Grimmauld Place, The Further Adventures of Viridina the Witch and Her Beloved
Knight lay opened in her lap, and she was wearing a very focused expression on
her face. “She loves that book, Scorpius,” said Ginny gently. “She knows it by
heart. She said that she was sure that you would know exactly what she wanted
more than anything else in the world because you are her handsome knight.”
Scorpius swallowed as he stared at the picture, silence finally enveloping the
three them. It looked as if a miserable smile was about to curl his lips, but
it didn’t. Finally, without a word, he tried to hand it back to Ginny.
“Oh, keep it, Scorpius, I’m sure Lily would like you to have it.” She smiled
and added, “And when you come to our house be ready, because Lily has already
asked to take tons of pictures with you.”
Scorpius clutched the photograph almost spasmodically and took a deep breath.
“Mrs Potter,” he said softly, “I… I don’t think I should come to see her.”
“And why is that, Scorpius?” asked Ginny gently.
“Because… because I’m not who… I’m not who she thinks I am… I’m not a knight,
I’m not a good person,” he muttered, flushing just slightly. “I’m… I think I
would hurt her if she was to know who I really am…”
Ginny smiled softly. “You should have more faith in yourself, Scorpius,” she
said gently, “and in Lily. She would love you even if you were a toad, and not
the knight you are.”
Scorpius sighed, “That she thinks I am…”
“No,” murmured Ginny, “that you are.” She smiled softly and stood up, walking
to him once again since the young man seemed petrified on the spot and bringing
her mouth close to his ear. “Nott kept her for six years. She had been sold to
more men than I have the heart to know,” she whispered, her voice a bit choked,
“and she never talks about anybody but you.” She fished out another picture
from her pocket and handed it to him. On it, Lily could be seen talking to
Rose, and even to someone who was particularly unskilled in lips reading, it
was blatantly clear that she was saying his name, while her face was looking
expectantly at Rose, waiting for news from her beloved. “I am certain, like
only a mother could be, that you are her knight,” she murmured. “And I’m sure
your mother told you that mothers are always right…” She pointed to the picture
and smiled. “She is asking about you,” she told him, “like she does every day…”
Scorpius swallowed hard, his eyes on the picture. “I… I…” He looked at her and
shook his head. “But you don’t understand, Mrs Potter,” he choked out. “If it
wasn’t for me she would have never… she would have never… you haven’t seen the
playroom. You… you didn’t see what he did to her…” Scorpius’ bottom lip was
trembling frantically, but his eyes seemed still dry. “I should have known he
would never let her go without a fight… if it wasn’t for me…”
“I know,” whispered Ginny softly, “if it wasn’t for you, she would have been
dead. Or never found.”
Scorpius’ eyes widened as he shook his head frantically. “No, no! If it wasn’t
for me she would have never suffered, she… she asked to die at my place, you
don’t… you don’t know… don’t know anything…”
“You are right,” she replied quietly. “What I know is what my husband told me.
He said that if you hadn’t stirred on that floor, she would have let Nott kill
her. She didn’t care about anything or anybody but you. That’s what I know…”
Scorpius swallowed, his eyes lowering. “But I didn’t… I didn’t…”
“You did,” she assured him forcefully. “Don’t worry, you did…” She smiled at
him. “We don’t have anything to do tomorrow afternoon, you know,” she said
gently. He was going to come, Ginny knew that much, even if she had to spend
the whole afternoon convincing him.
Scorpius bit his bottom lip as he closed his eyes. He seemed to be thinking
hard about something, to be considering her words carefully, before opening his
eyes again. “Me neither…” he whispered as he looked at Ginny. “But… I’ll come…
I’ll come just… just to tell her that I didn’t save her… that I—”
“Well, then, I hope you like Chocolate Frogs, because she will most certainly
try to feed you them,” said Ginny gingerly, cutting him off.
Scorpius took a deep breath. “I love them…” he replied with a sigh.
“Marvellous,” said Astoria, standing up. “Let’s have tea now, so that Ginevra
can show us more pictures of her beautiful daughter.”
And Scorpius almost didn’t touch his tea nor the biscuits, but he seemed to
want to memorise each and every single picture of Lily. And Ginny smiled the
whole time, and couldn’t help thinking just how happy her daughter would be the
following day.
***
Lily didn’t quite understand why her mother had asked her to wear the yellow
dress, the one that Albus and James had bought her in Diagon Alley. It was
beautiful and it was nice and cool, in the heat of the June day, but she had
been told that it was only for special occasions. And an afternoon at home was
not what her parents usually considered a special occasion – she did, but that
was different. Mummy had also styled her long hair into a pretty French braid –
that’s what she called it – and made her wear a pair of beautiful pumps with
little flowers on them.
And now she was sitting at the kitchen table, her little hands balled into
fists and pressed against her cheeks while she was reading, for the fifteenth
time, The Further Adventures of Viridina the Witch and Her Beloved Knight.
“Lily, sweetheart, are you cold in that dress?” asked her mother anxiously.
“Mummy made you wear it, but if you want to wear something else…”
She raised her eyes to her mother and beamed. “I’m not cold, Mummy,” she
replied politely. “Thank you.”
Her mother nodded and glanced at the Grandfather Clock near the door.
“Mummy,” called Lily. “Where are James and Albus?”
“Diagon Alley, darling,” replied her mother, “looking for new… things… for
Auror training… or something…”
Lily cocked her head and nodded seriously. That was the first time since Albus
finished school that she was home alone with her mother. Usually, her brothers
were there, and quite often, a bunch of cousins, and her grandparents to keep
her company.
“Mummy?”
“Yes, Lily?”
“Aren’t Grandma and Granddad coming?” she asked, a soft smile spreading her
lips.
Mummy smiled back at her. “Maybe later, dear,” she replied. “Grandma was… she
was knitting this afternoon and Granddad was working with plugs… I guess…”
Lily nodded again. “And is Rosie coming?”
Her mother smiled again, walking to Lily and kissing her head as she wrapped an
arm around her shoulders. “Lily, my sweet, sweet darling,” she murmured. “Rosie
and Hugo are busy.” She leant her head against Lily’s, their hair mixing
together. “But you and I are having a guest this afternoon,” she finally told
her.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement. “Who is it, Mummy?”
“It’s a su—”
But her sentence was cut short by a knock on the front door. Her mother whipped
her head towards the hall and straightened her back.
“Taffy will open the door,” squealed Taffy from the hall.
“Taffy is an insolent elf,” growled Kreacher. “Kreacher opens doors at
Grimmauld Place…”
“No! No! Both of you!” called Mummy irritably. “Go back todoing what you were
doing… Lily will open the door…” She looked down at her and smiled. “Come on,
Lily, I’m sure it’s for you…”
Lily felt her heart flutter with wonder. For her? Who could have been at the
door for her? Her family usually used the fireplace; it had only been Luna,
once, who had come knocking on the front door when she had visited. Maybe it
was Luna again… maybe she had brought her another present from some distant
land, and she would sit with her and tell her everything about it.
“Yes,” she said, standing from the chair and hurrying to the door. She turned
the key three times and unhooked the chain that kept it closed, and finally
pulled it open.
And stopped dead as her eyes met the silvery ones of Scorpius.
***
Scorpius could feel his fingers go completely numb as he heard the lock catch
in the door in front of him. His heart was beating painfully in his chest. His
blood was pulsing in his temples. His muscles were as stiff as rocks.
He had just the time to ball his hands into fists and grit his teeth with
resolution as he reminded himself that Mrs Potter might have persuaded him to
come and see Lily, but that he was going to tell her exactly what he had wanted
to tell her that day at the hospital.
He was going to tell her everything she should know about him.
Everything. Everything. Everything.
He swallowed, only to find his mouth dry, as the door opened with a loud
creaking sound.
And then time suddenly stopped as she stood there in front of him and looked at
him with eyes as big as saucers.
She was beautiful. How could he have forgotten how beautiful she was? He
hadn’t, really, but seeing her again, right in front of him… it was entirely
too much, it brought back feelings and sensations that he had tried to bury
away without much success considering the amount of times he had dreamt about
her in the past weeks.
But she was… she was different…
She was dressed in a yellow, summery dress, her hair was pulled up, her face…
her face looked happy. As happy as he had never seen her before… And her eyes…
her eyes were wide, and so was her mouth, opened wide as she stared at him. And
she wasn’t as pale as he remembered nor as emaciated as she was the last few
times he saw her, her cheeks were rosy and her little hand grasped the handle
of the door as if she needed it for support. And she seemed unable to move as
much as he was.
Scorpius tried to wet his parched lips with his tongue and finally he breathed
a “Hi,” which was much weaker than he had expected. He also tried to smile, but
the muscles of his face didn’t seem to want to obey his brain.
Unexpectedly, Lily lowered her big, brown eyes and murmured a soft “Scorpius,”
before throwing herself at him. To his dismay, she didn’t try to hug him, but
fell gracefully to her knees and enveloped his legs in her arms. “Scorpius,”
she sobbed. “Mummy look, it’s Scorpius.” She kissed his thighs and tears
swelled up in her eyes as she brushed her cheeks against his trousers.
For a moment, Scorpius was back in the room of the brothel, with Scarlet
worshipping him as if he was the god he had let her believe he was. For a
moment, Scorpius was mad at himself for letting that happen.
He felt the urge to look at the doorway to see if Mrs Potter was staring at
that scene, maybe with a horrified expression upon her face. She wasn’t there,
luckily. He lowered his eyes to the girl who was still pushing herself against
his legs.  “Lily, no,” he pleaded, grasping gently her upper arms. “Stand up…
don’t… please…”
She let him guide her to her feet and looked at him with her tear-stained face
for a brief moment before she slid her pale arms around his chest. “I missed
you so much,” she sobbed, pushing her head against his neck. “I thought you
were mad at me… I thought you didn’t want to see me… I… I thought you hated
me…”
Scorpius took a sharp breath at her admission. She thought he hated her. She
did, and it was all his fault. He really was a horrible person; she surely
could notice it already, couldn’t she? His arms closed around her tiny body and
he leaned his cheek on the top of her head. “What?” he murmured crestfallen.
“No… why… how could I ever hate you?”
She tilted her head back, and Scorpius’ warm hand went to brush away the tears
on her face. He didn’t even notice he had moved, he just did it, just because
he couldn’t bear the sight of her tears.
Not again.
“Because you had to suffer for me…” she sniffled. “Because of the Unforgivable
Curse… because of what Mr Nott did to you… in the playroom…”
Scorpius closed his eyes and groaned. Merlin! He wasn’t worthy of those words!
How could she think that he hated her because he had just taken an Unforgivable
Curse for her, when she had been tortured and raped for him for hours?
He had to tell her what a horrible man he was. He couldn’t stand to lead her on
any longer.
“Lily,” he murmured. “Can we talk?”
She nodded gently, lips parted once again in surprise, and unwrapped her arms
from around his torso. She grasped his wrist and tried to guide him into her
house, but Scorpius closed his fingers around her forearm and pulled her back
gently. “No,” he murmured, “outside, please…”
She furrowed her brow, creasing her forehead in confusion at his request. But
Scorpius needed some privacy. Maybe she would cry when he told her the truth,
and certainly he didn’t want Mrs Potter to hex him because he had made her
daughter cry.
And he just wanted to be alone with her. He wouldn’t have been able to tell her
everything he thought, if someone was staring at the two of them.
He looked around himself. The garden of Twelve Grimmauld Place was small, just
a postage-stamp sized piece of land compared to the park of the Manor, but
there were a few trees and a little gazebo with some chairs and a small, wooden
table. He walked her to them and turned to look at her. “Lily,” he murmured,
“sit down, please… I… I need to talk to you…”
She pressed her lips together and nodded, sitting in a chair and bringing her
knees to her chest, as she hugged her pretty yellow dress around her legs.
“How do you know?” she asked softly as he sat down opposite to her.
He bit his bottom lip. “How do I know what?” he murmured.
“How do you know that my name is Lily?” Her eyes were wide with expectation.
“I… I’ve known for a while… even before you did…” he replied quietly. “I found
a picture of your mother at Hogwarts and she looked so much like you… and… I
just knew it was you… I… I’m just sorry I didn’t understand that before…”
“Did I know you before?”
Scorpius shook his head softly. “I’ve only seen you once. I’ve seen you at
King’s Cross when you accompanied your brothers, the week before you were
taken.”
She smiled hopefully at him. “You remember that. I don’t… but you do…”
He nodded. “Yes,” he murmured, before taking a deep breath and looking into her
eyes. “Lily, I have to tell you something,” he said decidedly.
She nodded softly. “Yes, everything you want, Scorpius,” she replied meekly.
He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Lily,” he said, “Lily… I…” He bit
his bottom lip as his voice trailed away. Was he ready to tell her? Was he
ready to see her face screw up in horror? No, he wasn’t but he had to do it.
“Lily, I’m not who you think I am,” he finally breathed out.
She cocked her head a little, a small frown creasing her forehead once again.
“You are not Scorpius Malfoy?” she asked softly, her chin leaning thoughtfully
on her knees.
Well, that was not a good start indeed. “No,” he replied, fidgeting in his lap.
“I mean, yes. I am Scorpius Malfoy, but… I’m not… I’m not who you think I am.”
He took another deep breath and added, “I’m not a knight. I’m not chivalrous… I
am not a good man.” He looked away from her, because surely now she would start
to look at him revolted by his admission and he couldn’t bear to see that
expression on her face. “I don’t care about anybody but me… I am a selfish man…
a slimy git… I…” His voice died in his throat. Did he have to go on or did she
get it already?
“But I don’t understand,” replied Lily softly. “How can you not care about
anybody but yourself if you… you came back for me?”
Scorpius darkened. “Yes, I came back for you, and what happened? You were… you
were tortured and… abused and whipped… right before my eyes and I couldn’t…”
“I’m sorry,” whined Lily, sniffling. “I didn’t want you to see…”
Scorpius shook his head frantically. “That’s not what I meant,” he hurried to
say. “I just… I didn’t want you to go through it for me… I wanted to be whipped
at your place… I should have been. It was all my fault. All my fault… if he
killed you I… I would have killed myself…”
She was silent just as she had been in the brothel and when Scorpius raised his
eyes to look at her, he was surprised to find her kneeling in front of him. Her
pretty dress probably getting all dirty on the grass. Another reason for her
mother to hex him.
“Lily…”
She brought a hand to his face to cup it. “Oh no,” she whispered, “I’ve been
punished so many times in the playroom… I knew he wasn’t going to kill me, I
just knew… he liked to say that he was going to kill me, he told me every time…
but I didn’t know about you, you know. What if he killed you? I wouldn’t have
survived… But I thought… I thought you hated me because of what you saw… and
because of the Unforgivable Curse you took for me…”
Scorpius swallowed. “I don’t hate you,” he replied quickly, placing a hand on
hers. “If anything I love you.” He bit his bottom lip. What had he just said?
He had never… never said that to anybody at all… He felt his cheeks go up in
flames and surely she could feel the change in temperature under her palm. “I…”
“You love me?” she murmured shyly. “I love you too.”
For a moment, Scorpius wanted to tell her that she couldn’t love him. He was
not lovable, he was not a nice person. But that was not what left his lips. “I…
I wanted to kiss you so much,” he mumbled, “since the very first moment I saw
you… I just wanted to kiss you… I dreamed about kissing you…” He lowered his
eyes. What was he saying? That was not what he had meant! He shouldn’t say
those things to her. What was wrong with him?
“Wouldn’t you kiss me now?” she murmured, her cheeks looked like they were on
fire too now. “If you still want to…”
Scorpius swallowed, only to notice that his mouth was completely dry. “I… I…
Lily… I don’t think…”
“Please…” she whispered, before she shyly lowered her eyes. “I want to kiss you
too…”
Scorpius’ breath caught in his throat as he looked at her in surprise. “You
do?” he asked breathily. He had never imagined that she would want to kiss him.
She had surely been kissed more times than Scorpius had and he could not
imagine them being loving kisses at all.
She raised her eyes again to look at him and nodded, then a soft smile curved
her lips and she closed her eyes as she stretched her neck towards him,
puckering her lips a little and expecting him to close the distance and finally
confirming his assumptions on how soft and delicious her lips were.
Instead, he grabbed her upper arm and brought her up to her feet, before
pulling her to him and making her sit in his lap, her feet dangling against his
shin.
She placed her hands on his chest to steady herself and looked down at him with
surprise and anticipation.
“Don’t you ever kneel in front of me,” he murmured softly, as he sneaked a hand
up her back and cupped the nape of her neck. “Okay?”
She nodded softly. “Okay,” she replied breathily.
“Good,” he whispered as he stretched his neck and pulled her to him.
Her lips were soft.
And delicious.
And that moment right there, when their mouths met and Lily’s arms wrapped
around his neck as she leant against his chest and her fingers grasped his
robes, that moment was the moment that Scorpius knew that he was gone for her.
Utterly and completely gone. He just knew that.
His brain melted and suddenly he knew that he was already addicted to her. No
matter what he told her, no matter what he told himself, he was gone. He was
smitten. He had fallen for her.
He loved her.
The kiss was soft and delicate, she tasted of chocolate and she smelled of some
kind of rose perfume. And despite the fact that his mouth was still dry, it was
definitely the best kiss Scorpius had ever given any girl at all. And the best
one he had ever received.
When he let her go, she let out a soft giggle and hid her face in the crook of
his neck, her fingers going to play with his robes on his shoulder.
“Scorpius,” she breathed, and the warm air that she puffed out of her pretty
lips tickled his neck and made his skin cover in gooseflesh.
“Yes?” he said softly, his fingers enlacing over her hip.
“Is it okay if I don’t believe you?” she asked shyly.
Scorpius felt his heart in his throat. “What…”
“When you say that you are not a knight,” she murmured, and surely she knew
that she had some kind of power over him because she followed that statement by
planting a small kiss over the pulsing vein under his ear, and he just melted
in the chair as if he had no bones.
“Yes,” he replied blissfully, without even noticing that he was talking at all,
“yes… it’s okay…” He wanted to tell her that she was his knight, instead, but
he just couldn’t put the words together.
He turned his head to kiss the top of her head and only then noticed that Mrs
Potter was making her way towards them, a soft smile playing on her lips.
Scorpius flushed the colour of Lily’s hair, but before he could even try to
shift the girl in his lap into a less intimate position, Mrs Potter came to
stand next to him. “Hello Scorpius,” she said softly, cocking her head. “Are
you staying for dinner?”
Scorpius swallowed as he stared at her from over Lily’s head. “I… err… I…”
“Yes, yes, please,” said Lily promptly, eyes wide and begging as she raised her
head from his shoulder. “Please, stay for dinner…”
He looked at her and smiled like an idiot. He couldn’t have stayed though; he
didn’t want to disturb them. “I’d love that,” he murmured softly. What?
“Well, then,” said Mrs Potter with a smile, “if you need to use the Floo to let
your mother know, there’s a fireplace in the living room.”
“Thank you,” he replied as Lily shuffled to her feet and offered him a hand to
stand up.
“Can I show him the house, Mummy?” asked Lily, when Scorpius stood up as well
and laced his fingers into hers. “And the rest of the garden?”
“Oh Scorpius has a huge garden at his house, Lily, you should see it,” said her
mother thoughtfully, a grin splitting her face in two.
“Yes, you should come to see my house,” blurted out Scorpius without even
noticing he was talking again. “I… I mean… if your mother wants you to…”
“Of course,” said Mrs Potter gently. “As long as you always bring her home in
the evening.”
Lily let out a soft cry of joy and jumped at his neck, making Scorpius blush at
her enthusiasm. “Yes! When can we go?” she asked, squeezing him tight.
“Tomorrow?”  he suggested, without being able to keep a grin from invading his
voice. “Or whenever you want, really.”
“Tomorrow,” she replied, nodding eagerly and kissing his cheek. “Please.”
Scorpius sighed contentedly. “Tomorrow,” he murmured. “Anything you want.”
When they walked inside, Mrs Potter let him use the fireplace to Floo Call his
mother and Astoria sent over a tray of lemon cakes, from the kitchen of the
Manor, to avoid giving the impression that her son had been raised by wild
animals.
Then Lily showed him her house, and then a bit more of the garden, and then
they had a tea break with the lemon cakes and Chocolate Frogs. And they sat
outside under a tree and she read to him from The Tales of Beedle the Bard – he
was glad that she hadn’t suggested to read from the second book of the saga of
Viridina. And then they snogged a bit more. And finally, Albus and James came
home and then Mr Potter – who talked to him about his Auror application and who
had to brush away the tears as he whispered a hasty, “Thank you,” while Lily
wasn’t looking – and then they all had dinner, and Scorpius said that the soup
with little pieces of bacon and potatoes was delicious, and Lily’s smile seemed
to brighten up even more at his admission.
And the next day Lily went to see him at the Manor and gasped at how gigantic
the park was, and at how many books he had in the library, and at how long the
dinner table was just for him and his mother, and at how many house-elves they
had.
They sat outside on a bench and Scorpius laid his head on her lap as they
looked at the redbreast robins drinking from the main fountain.
“Hmm,” Lily finally said.
“What?” asked Scorpius gently, eyes half-closed because of the sun.
“Scorpius,” she said all serious. “When I marry you, like Viridina and the
knight, can we put a pond, like the one at the Burrow, near the orchard?”
He was silent for a long moment, and Lily stared at his face as he was deep in
concentration. “Yes,” he finally said, as seriously as she did. “And then what
else do you want?”
“A dog,” she replied, “and a library outside…”
“But then the books would get all wet when it rains,” he pointed out.
“But once I finish Hogwarts, I could charm them to stay dry all the time,” she
said sensibly.
He smiled and closed his eyes. “You are right,” he murmured, “and then? What
else do you want?”
And she told him and he agreed to everything she said. And they spent every
single day of summer together, and Lily told him that she had never been
happier.
And Scorpius knew that he hadn't either.
***
The corner where Scorpius had guided Lily to, on Platform 9 ¾, was not nearly
as private as he had hoped. Children kept walking past them screaming
incessantly, parents seemed to stop on purpose in front of them to fret where
to put suitcases and cages of various shapes and sizes, and students kept
whispering as they saw them. Someone even giggled and pointed, making Scorpius
glare in their direction.
“I’m going to miss you,” whispered Lily, eyes shiny with tears, her hands on
his chest.
“I’m going to miss you too,” he replied, cupping her cheeks. “But I promise
I’ll come to visit every free weekend I have.”
She brushed away the tears with the back of her hand and nodded. “Every free
one?” she asked shyly.
“Every free one,” he confirmed. “I just hope that your father doesn’t make me
work each and every single one of them…”
She looked at him resolutely. “I’ll tell him not to,” she said seriously,
disentangling from him to go and look for her father already.
Well, that would have been embarrassing: pleading his boss to have free
weekends before he even started working. “No,” he said, grabbing her wrist and
pulling her to him again. “I’m sure he won’t…” He smiled at her and she beamed
back at him.
Merlin! She was beautiful! And she was all his. Scorpius still didn’t know what
he had done to deserve her.
Well, okay, now he knew – Lily had explained it to him, and so had her mother
and his own mother – but still… she seemed a reward much richer than what he
should have merited for his actions.
He brushed some of her flaming locks from her eyes and lowered his head. Her
lips were soft and wet and warm, and she still tasted of chocolate, her
favourite food. He kissed her thoroughly, enveloping her in his arms and
pulling her little body flat against his own. She wrapped her hands around his
neck and kissed him back with equal passion, her little, coldish nose poking
into his cheek.
“Malfoy, if you kiss my sister like that, I’ll have to hex you.”
He let her lips go and groaned as he squeezed her in his arms. “Get lost,
Potter,” he grunted, looking at Albus darkly.
Lily giggled against his chest and he just hugged her more tightly against his
chest.
“Can I say goodbye to my girlfriend properly?” asked Scorpius hotly.
“I don’t know,” said Albus, hands on his hips. “Does that involve a lot of
tongue?”
Scorpius cocked an eyebrow. “What saying goodbye?”
Albus snorted and rolled his eyes half-heartedly. “You know what I mean.”
“Maybe,” he replied with a soft smirk. “Can you give us five more minutes?”
“Five,” replied Albus sternly. “Everybody wants to say goodbye to her.”
Scorpius nodded and looked as the raven-haired boy went back to the platform.
He finally turned his attention back to Lily. “Where were we…?” he asked with a
goofy smile upon his lips.
“Are you going to write to me?” she asked anxiously.
He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Every day,” he replied. “I’ll tell you
everything that your father makes me do at the training, and how many times
Rose bests me in basically every subject and… how much I miss you…”
He leant in close to her and kissed her again, trying to focus on the softness
of her lips, on the way she tasted, on her smooth skin under his digits. But
his head was light and his heart was pounding, and all he could do was let
himself get lost in the overwhelming sensations.
When he let her go, she had her eyes closed and a soft smile wasupon her lips.
He brought his mouth to her ear and, sighing, he whispered, “Let’s go.”
She nodded as she opened her bright brown eyes and beamed at him. He enlaced
his fingers into hers and they started walking to where there was a little
crowd of redheads. 
“I’ve never had these many people coming to see me off,” grinned Hugo as they
reached them.
Lily giggled out loud, but soon she was whisked away by her mother – who would
have seen her anyway at the feast that evening, but who was naturally fretting
to have to separate from her for the train ride – and then her father and her
brothers and cousins and basically everybody, even Emeric Zabini, who had a
date with Rose that evening and seemed unable to wipe a stupid smile off his
face.
“Did you kiss her goodbye properly?” whispered Rose, with a grin, as she came
to stand next to him.
“We were interrupted by your cousin,” he replied, shaking his head, “but she
was properly kissed goodbye…”
Rose smiled again. “Lily,” she called her as soon as she saw that the sixteen-
year-old had managed to disentangle herself from their Uncle Charlie. “I’ve got
a present for you. Come here.”
Lily hurried back to where they were standing, her hand automatically searching
for Scorpius’. Rose smiled as she produced two identical leather bound books.
“One for you,” she said, giving one to Lily, “and one for you.” She handed the
other one to Scorpius. “When you write on yours, Lily, Scorpius will see it
straight away,” she explained, pulling out a quill and opening Lily’s diary to
show her. “Like this,” she said, writing on the first page.
Scorpius’ diary started to vibrate gently in his hands and the word ‘Message’
appeared on the cover in bright letters. He opened it and stared.
                             [DE Diary Number 2.1]
“Great,” he snorted half-heartedly. “They work.”
Lily beamed and she threw her arms around Rose’s neck, thanking her with little
kisses on her cheeks. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she chanted. She took
Rose’s quill into her hand and turned her back to Scorpius, giggling the whole
time she wrote in the diary.
Scorpius looked as the words appeared on the page under Rose’s message.
                             [DE Diary Number 2.2]
He smiled softly. “I’ll miss you, too,” he replied out loud, blushing.
Lily turned and let out a little cry of joy as she kissed his cheek gratefully.
But then the Hogwarts Express whistled loudly and soon Hugo was helping Lily on
the train, and Scorpius found himself standing there waving goodbye with the
others as he finally understood that she was leaving, and that he would only
see her on the weekends. His free weekends. And that he was going to really
miss her.
The train had only just left the platform, when the diary started to vibrate
again in his hands. Scorpius chuckled as he opened it.
                             [DE Diary Number 2.3]
“Quill?” asked Rose casually, handing him one.
“Yeah,” he replied with a grin, taking the quill from her hand. He scratched
his nose and started writing.
                         [DEDiaryNumber24_zpsd6648b44]
                                      FIN
Chapter End Notes
     What is going to happen next? For all of you who are wondering, the
     Sorting Hat will want to put Lily in Hufflepuff (and before you start
     the hate campaign, I am a Hufflepuff on Pottermore!), because she is
     extremely loyal and a very hard worker, she is patient and very
     tolerant and she is very, very kind. But the Sorting Hat keeps into
     consideration the desires of the students, and Lily will start
     pleading to be put in the same house as her cousin and only other
     person she knows from the moment the Hat is placed on her head. Thus,
     Gryffindor it will be.
     Lily will take four years to complete her education. The only year
     that she’ll need a whole year to complete is the last one, because of
     her N.E.W.T.’s. Her mother will teach her Quidditch and she will be
     granted many permits to go home to spend the weekends with her family
     when she wants to. She will be a wonderful Seeker, just like her
     father, but mainly because she likes to ride her broom out in the air
     and follow the Snitch around the pitch rather than because she is
     really interested in the game itself.
     The students will mostly be good with her, and when they won't be
     Hugo will take care of them. So much so, that two times he will end
     up in the Headmistress office for having hexed boys who had called
     Lily names behind her back. The Headmistress will offer him biscuits
     instead of giving him detention.
     After Hogwarts Ginny and Harry will fret that Lily will want to
     pursue a career as an Auror and be put in constant danger. Ginny will
     also be afraid that she will become a professional Quidditch player
     and spend most of her time travelling with some team. However,
     Victoire will help her land a job at her son’s school – I mean, there
     must be a school for children under eleven, right? I mean, J.K.
     Rowling has never mentioned it, but there must be. How do they learn
     how to read and write if their parents are working all day? There,
     she will take care of the toddlers and love her job to bits.
     Scorpius and Lily will always be together, but five years into their
     relationship and Scorpius will still be a virgin. He is too scared to
     ask her to make love to him. Too scared the experience would bring
     her back to the days of the brothel. They will sleep (just sleep)
     together though, and after Lily's graduation Scorpius will have
     dinner almost every night at Grimmauld Place.
     If you want to know what happens afterwards, well, head over to the
     sequel. It's called "The Golden Orchid" and you can find it on this
     website. It's very different from this story: it's a mystery/drama/
     fluff/humour story that features lots of Lily & family moments, lots
     of Lily/Scorpius moments, lots of mother/daughter angsty moments with
     Ginny not wanting Lily to grow and Lily needing to do just that.
     Scorpius will want to ask Lily to marry him, Draco is definitely
     changed after Azkaban, Rose has been dumped by Emeric, and many other
     things will happen. Also, there's a crime to solve!
     So go find that story, or not. Up to you, but for now... Mischief
     Managed!
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