Avenging Angel

Chapter One

A Whole New World

Ginny groaned in frustration as she stepped into the training room, ready to tear out her hair in exasperation. She had told them to shower and get ready for dinner nearly an hour ago, and yet here they were, still too wrapped up in their duel to even notice she had entered the room.

"Expelliarmus," she muttered, her voice suitably cross, as she pointed her wand at the two teenage boys in front of her, easily catching the two wands that flew from their hands. The sudden loss of their weapons caught their attentions quickly enough and they turned, staring at her rather sheepishly.

"Sorry, Mum," said a nineteen-year-old James Potter, "We lost track of time." His dark hair, usually artfully spiked in one of those absurd teenage fashions, clung loosely to his brow as he caught his breath. Sweat ran down his bare chest, he was as usual clad in a pair of jeans and trainers for his daily training regimen.

"It's my fault, Aunt Ginny," added Scorpius, wiping a pale arm across his own sweaty brow, clad in much the same way as James.

"I do not care whose fault it is," she said in a voice that left no room for arguments, "Go and get ready for dinner right now."

She couldn't help the wan smile that spread across her features as both boys practically fled her presence, rushing straight to their rooms to shower and change. They may not be children anymore, but not one of the teenagers under her care doubted that she would hesitate to bend them over her knee if they crossed her.

Despite her stern hand she loved them all to pieces, even if there were times when they tested her patience to the very limit. She snorted to herself. When she had been younger, she had vowed to herself that she wouldn't emulate her mother who had birthed seven children. Despite that vow she had still eventually gone on to raise six. Between James, Albus, Lily, Teddy, Scorpius, and Cassandra; she was very surprised that she was not pre-maturely grey.

It hadn't been easy these past few years. There were so few who were still willing to fight that the Order had been reduced to a cult following. Had running been an option, the Potters would have left the country long ago but Grimmauld Place was their only true haven. Had they fled, like so many other prominent Order families, they would only have been signing their own death certificates.

There were nights when she still couldn't sleep, memories of that bitter night still haunting her dreams. It had been twelve years since Hermione had left her children at Grimmauld Place along with a Horcrux, and it was that alone that earned the fallen witch Ginny's forgiveness. Despite the mistakes her best friend had made, in the end she had done the right thing.

"Where are the boys?" asked Harry, raising his left eyebrow as Ginny walked into the kitchen alone, snapping her back to reality.

"Showering. When it comes to duelling they're worse than you and Ron were," sighed Ginny, her lips twitching in a faint smile.

"We weren't that bad," said Harry wistfully, reaching out to yank his wife into his lap.

"Harry James Potter, the kids will be down any minute," squealed Ginny as she felt her husband's lips on her neck.

"No they won't." He grinned at her, his hand snaking up her blouse. "Cass and Lily are still at Shell Cottage, James takes longer in the bathroom than his sister," he punctuated each word with a soft kiss along her collar, "Teddy is still in Bulgaria and Al. . ."

"Has just been scarred for life," said a teasing voice from the doorway, causing her and Harry to fly apart as though burned. Seventeen-year-old Albus Potter waltzed into the kitchen, grinning mischievously at his parent's embarrassed silence. Still blushing profusely, Ginny busied herself at the stove as her youngest son chuckled at his parents' expense.

There were days when Ginny was actually thankful that her children couldn't attend Hogwarts. Al took after his troublemaking twin uncles a little too closely for comfort, but there was a distinctly Slytherin streak in him that had come from Merlin knew where.

Inwardly, she thanked Morgana that Al had developed such a close bond with Scorpius.

Scorpius was moody and pensive, a solitary young man whose haunted grey eyes were her biggest failure. She had never managed to heal all his scars, the scars that had been inflicted during the first five years of his life by Voldemort's Death Eaters. Even now, twelve years later, he always held himself back in conversation, refraining from joining them on intimate events. It saddened her, that even now, he would often hold himself in the background until one of the family members dragged him to join them.

A part of her lived for those moments, seeing the quick spark in his eyes when he realised that he was loved and cared for. It was this quiet, brooding personality that often kept Albus from causing too much trouble and that kept James hot-headed temper in check. There was a strong bond between the four young men – even though Teddy was rarely home now that he was an active field agent for the Order – but she always noticed that the platinum-blond haired Malfoy always tried keeping himself an arm's length away from them. Cass had once told her that it was just her brother's way, a defence mechanism off sorts.

Realising that the kitchen was now fully occupied, she quickly served dinner and couldn't help smiling and taking her husband's hand as her boys, all three of them, instantly dug in ravenously.

.o0o.

"Hey, mate," said James as he strode into the room.

"Jay." Scorpius looked up from his perch on the window-seat, slipping his wand into his book as a make-shift mark before setting it aside.

"I never understand your fascination with reading, Scorp." He grinned as he pulled up the chair from his adoptive brother's desk, only then noticing the stone basin on Scorpius' desk.

"Scorp," he said curiously, "Why do you have Dad's Pensieve?"

"James, don't!" began Scorpius as James reached for the basin, getting to his feet to try and keep him from touching the writhing pool of memories. It was too late, his fingers had already broken the surface, and he'd slipped into the Pensieve.

At first, his new setting was dark, he couldn't see anything. Then memories began to form from the shadows, the twisting darkness coalescing to form a scene from Scorpius' past.

.

It was Scorpius's eleventh birthday and to celebrate, Mum had invited the entire Weasley clan over for dinner. Celebrations had been far and few between because of the war, but his parents were determined to give their adoptive son a special party to celebrate what would have been his entry into Hogwarts. He remembered seeing his kid brother's huge grin at being the centre of attention for once as everyone clustered around the dinner table, singing the Happy Birthday song and giving him presents.

It was only when his parents presented Scorpius with his wand did things go wrong.

"But that's Hermione's wand," protested Uncle Ron as he took note of the elegant vines engraved on the handle.

"Yes Ron," said Dad in a warning tone, "Hermione told Ginny and I to give it to her son when he comes of age."

"What a beautiful gesture," murmured Nana Molly, exchanging a nod with Gramps.

"So you're going to give my Hermione's wand to the spawn of a Death Eater?" asked Ron angrily, refusing to heed the warning looks in most of his family's eyes.

"Mum was never yours, was she? She loved my dad," interjected Scorpius in a small voice, "They helped us, didn't he Auntie Ginny?"

"Your father was a bloody cowardly git who stole the woman I loved, and then brainwashed her into becoming a Death Eater just like he was," roared Ron furiously.

"That's enough, Ron," yelled Harry ,"Shut up and sit down."

"I will not shut up and sit down," he roared, before turning to face Scorpius, who had sought shelter behind James and Teddy, "Malfoys have no place in this home, and they never will."

"You're out of line, Ronald," snapped George, gesturing for Teddy to take the youngsters upstairs, seeing that most of his family looked ready to spit fire.

.

The scene slowly faded to inky black as new images began to form.

.

"I hope you all haven't started without me," came Ron's voice as the family ate around the crowded dinner table. He walked into the room, looking cross as he realised that the Potter's had already tucked in.

"Strange that you haven't set me a place," he snapped his eyes turning to glare at Scorpius, who looked older than the last memory . . . thirteen, perhaps.

"Ron, I didn't think you'd be joining us," Mum said, standing up quickly to get him a plate and cup for the newest arrival.

"Don't worry Aunt Gin, he can have my seat," said Scorp quietly, "I'll just go eat in the living room."

"You don't have to do that, Scorp," said Harry, his emerald green eyes shooting daggers at his brother-in-law.

"It's no trouble, Uncle Harry," he said, picking up his plate and turning to leave the room.

"Ronald," growled Ginny angrily as Scorpius left the room.

"Ginny, this is a family meal," Ron said pointedly, "It's not like they're . . ." He glared at Cassie who shrank into Albus. "Our blood."

James stood up and left the room at this point, clenching his fist as he stomped up the stairs.

"Well maybe not," scowled Ginny, "but. . . ." Scorpius never heard the rest. He'd been listening at the door and Ginny's first words sent him rushing off to the living room, blinking back tears.

There was a flash of vibrant-red hair dashing after him as the scene faded to inky black once more.

.

New memories began taking shape.

.

It was Christmas and the Potter's were all lounging about the living room enjoying the peaceful morning. Even Cassie was there, her head resting on Teddy's arm. Scorpius stood at the top of the stairs, watching them as Ron walked past him. . .

"Enjoying the view Ferret? Look at them, they don't even notice you're not there. . ."

.

"Scorp," she said tenderly, walking into his room. He was sitting in the window seat, watching the night sky as she walked towards him and put her arm comfortingly on his bare shoulder. The fact that he was wearing nothing but pyjama bottoms didn't seem to faze her.

"When I was a kid, my mum used to take me stargazing," he said softly. It was rare to hear him speak about his childhood.

"We used to look for my constellation," he continued. "Why does he hate me?" he asked suddenly, abruptly.

"You should just ignore him, Scorp," Lily said, lowering herself so that she was perched on his lap.

"But it's true, isn't it?" he said, meeting her eyes, "I don't belong here."

"Scorp. . ." she began.

"It's OK, Lily," he said softly, "Just stay with me tonight."

She sighed at his interruption, but nevertheless, she quieted down and stroked his silky hair till he fell asleep, his head buried in her ruby shoulder.

.

"You filthy, little scumbag!" Ron yelled, "How dare you raise your wand against her?"

"Uncle Ron, NO!" shrieked Lily, her voice hysterical as she watched him raise his wand.

"You want to duel little boy, let's duel," Ron growled angrily, "SECTUMSEMPRA!"

The curse caught Scorpius by surprise, slashing him across his arm and sending him sprawling. The next second, Ron lay on the ground, his niece's wand trained at his face.

"Get out!" she shrieked, "I asked him to help me train!"

"Lily, he's a Death Eater . . . you should train with somebody trustworthy." There was a flash of guilt in Ron's eyes, before it was replaced with hate.

"I trust him with my life, now get out, or I swear that I will curse you," she screamed, red sparks flaring from her wand as the older man turned on his heel and all but fled. She ran to the blond, gasping at the blood pooling around the floor before moving her wand over his cuts, murmuring healing incantations.

.

"I don't belong here, Lily," he said, stuffing clothes into his suitcase.

"Scorpius, please just listen to me," she sobbed.

"I don't deserve this, I don't deserve everything your family's done for me. I'm done causing problems to the only people who have ever accepted me," he said.

"The Order had accepted you, Scorpius."

"They tolerate me because of Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. They look at me like I'm a Death Eater who just killed their puppy." He slammed his suitcase shut and made for the door.

She grabbed him by his wrist and yanked, tears falling freely from her eyes.

"Scorpius stay. . .stay for me."

.

"Albus and James are my best mates, I can't betray their trust like this," he said.

"Scorp, my brothers don't have a say in who I date."

"How long will it take for them to turn on me when they find out I've been snogging their baby sister." He sounded torn.

"They would never turn on you, Scorp," she said seriously, realising his insecurities . . . then she grinned cheekily and pecked him on the nose, "Even if they do you'll always have me."

"Always?" he asked as he took her in his arms.

"Always. . ." she breathed into his ear.

"You're all I need," he said, trembling like a leaf in her arms.

.

James was shaken back to reality, and gasping, he quickly turned to see Scorpius's ashen face.

"Why didn't you ever say anything, mate?" he asked reassuringly, for the first time knowing why Scorpius was always so withdrawn, often preferring his books to their companionship.

"It's OK, James," Scorpius said with a sigh. "He was right anyway. I'm not really a part of this family."

When James remained silent, unsure of how to properly respond to a statement like that, Scorpius continued, "And I didn't want to bother you or Al."

"Bother us about what?" asked Albus, leaning against the doorframe. James shot him a serious look, hoping he'd be able to drawn on some form of latent sibling telepathy and convey to him the seriousness of the situation.

"Oh, did James find out about you and Lily then, mate?"

"You knew," said James his jaw dropping to the floor.

"How?" asked Scorpius, aghast, his face blanching more than humanly possible.

"You talk in your sleep, mate. It's disturbing to hear you moan her name at night." shrugged Al. "Oh, Lily. . . Ooooh, Lily. . .Lily. . ." he added in a high falsetto voice.

There was a second of silence before all three boys dissolved into hysterics despite the tense atmosphere.

"So you guys aren't mad?" asked Scorpius timidly, "You don't hate me?"

"We could never hate you," said Albus indignantly, "You're our brother."

"But . . . I," began Scorpius.

"No buts, Scorp, you're stuck with us whether you like it or not," said James.

"And for the record, Lily would be hard pressed to find a better guy than you mate," said Albus.

"Though if you hurt her . . ." James trailed off warningly.

"You've seen us duel," finished Albus with a wink.

Scorpius couldn't help the grin that spread on his face as the Potter boys pulled him into a manly embrace. James smiled to himself at the sight of that grin; it was the boyishly innocent grin that he hadn't seen in years.

.o0o.

"Crucio," the words slithered of the Dark Lord's serpentine tongue in a silky tone, and he writhed in agony as the curse came crashing over him. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming.

It had been a long time since he'd been imprisoned, and in that time he learned enough to know that he would never give Voldemort the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

When the curse ended, he gasped slightly, breathing deeply as he filled his lungs with the stale air that was ever-present within the dank dungeons.

"It's been twelve years, Riddle," he spat at the delusional half-blood who styled himself a Lord, "Why am I still alive?"

"You amuse me, Draco." Voldemort stroked at his chin. "The stubborn Gryffindor nature of your wife seems to have leached into you."

His grabbed the blond by his matted hair and dragged him out the room and down a long corridor till he reached an exquisitely carved stone door. Draco went without fight, belatedly wondering what lay in store for him now.

"I will show you why you are still of use to me, Draco."

Despite years of not practicing magic, he could feel the powerful hum of power emanating from the room. He heard the Dark Lord speak in Parseltongue, wincing at the harsh language, remembering all the times over the years that the language of serpents had heralded a visit from Nagini.

The door slid open and Draco felt his breath catch in his throat.

In the middle of the room stood a swirling pillar of sparkling crystal, spiralling into a shimmering prison of celestial energy. The monument gleamed with power and just being in its presence caused his Dark Mark to burn as if on fire. But it wasn't the radiant beauty, nor was it the searing power than rocked him to his core.

Brunette curls fell to the small of her back, framing her pale skin, and cupping her delicate features. She was wearing the same clothes he had last seen her in, that elegant skirt and blouse she had worn the night she'd gotten the children to safety. Her eyes were closed, chocolate orbs hidden from his sight. He saw her, frozen within the pillar, and for a split second he imagined that her chest rose . . . a breath of life

"She's alive?" he asked, in a voice choked with emotion, as he took in the sight of Hermione Malfoy, frozen in time.