12. A Frail Aristocrat

She sped as Petals of a Rose

Offended by the Wind --

A frail Aristocrat of Time

Indemnity to find --

-Emily Dickinson

o.o.o.o.

Lucius Malfoy was dangerously awake.

"I heard you talking to someone in there. You've brought a friend to visit... Whom?" Grandfather Malfoy asked, leaning forward so his wooden wheelchair moved toward Scorpius.

"No one," Scorpius lied reflexively, wishing he could think of a more convincing story.

Lucius clutched his wand in a shaking hand, eyes narrowed.

Scorpius tried saying, "I was looking at the flying carpets. I was thinking about taking a ride on one..."

"In this weather?"

"It isn't raining, is it?"

"It's drizzling."

"Oh."

"Perhaps I will look at the carpets myself. Open the door for me."

"I can bring one out for you, sir—you'll have trouble on the stairs—"

"Enough of this! Who is in there? Narcissa tells me you're friendly with the younger Potter boy...Albus Severus," he sneered, "and we agreed it is acceptable for you to ally with the powerful party at Hogwarts...However, it would not be acceptable for you to invite such a person into the heart of our Manor."

"I didn't—"

Scorpius was seized with a sudden idea.

"I didn't invite him, Grandfather, he forced his way in! I've been trying to chase him out, but he has his invisibility cloak, and—"

Scorpius cast a door-opening charm nonverbally, hoping that the lock was still satisfied with his blood, and that Rose had moved out of sight. Luckily he was right on both accounts and the door groaned open. He feigned surprise and slammed it shut, shouting, "He got out! He's running that way!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Lucius cast without hesitation in the direction Scorpius was pointing.

The intent to kill—it was a side of his grandfather that Scorpius had hoped never to see. His pounding heart was the only part of him that moved as he watched Lucius shoot curse after curse down the length of the drawing room. Meanwhile, the secret entrance was sinking back down into the drawing room floor. Rose was trapped.

Lucius wheeled toward the corridor, leaving smashed suits of armor and craters in the stone walls. Unnerved, Scorpius spoke without thinking.

"Don't!"

"Don't? What do you mean, don't?" Lucius Malfoy wheezed, turning on his grandson. Frigid, fervid menace was in his eyes.

Scorpius reacted. "Expelliarmus!" He caught Lucius' wand and sprinted towards the kitchens.

"How dare you, you little traitor! You are no Malfoy!" Lucius pursued.

Scorpius gripped the wands as he ran. The rug under him suddenly rippled, almost making him trip—Grandfather must have been so angry that he was attacking wandlessly. Scorpius would have to leave the manor, and go—where? To Hogwarts? But first he would ask Patto to make sure Rose got out.

Scorpius spun around just long enough to cast, "Arresto momentum!" before continuing to run.

Lucius snarled as his wheelchair slowed down.

Scorpius dashed around two more corners and finally made it into the kitchen. He locked the door behind him, then realized that Patto wasn't there.

"Patto!" he yelled. The desperate pitch of his own voice was frightening.

Scorpius threw open the cupboard-sized door to Patto's little room, and seeing it empty, started opening other cupboards, as if Patto might be hiding. He stopped and took a deep breath. Patto was surely somewhere in the house.

Thud! Thud! Grandfather was pounding on the door.

"Open this now!"

He doesn't have his wand, Scorpius told himself, I can just sit here, until Patto comes, or Grandmother...what will Grandmother think?

"Fine!" came Lucius' hoarse voice from behind the door. "I shall go see what you were up to in the hidden chamber."

Does he have a spare wand somewhere? Can he open it without one?

Scorpius focused hard on the drawing room. He needed to get there first. He spun.

He apparated with a lurch into the large room, and once again rolled the carpet away from the stone floor.

"Leviosa sepultus ostium."

The stones rose with frustrating slowness, stone gradually scraping against stone until the entrance had risen fully, while Scorpius wondered if Grandfather was coming directly there or going to his rooms for a spare wand. Scorpius gave the door a drop of blood and ran down the steps.

He whispered, "Rose?"

The chamber was empty. The only way she could have gotten out was with Patto's help, Scorpius assumed.

There was a loud crack at the entrance, followed by a horrible bellow. Scorpius whipped around, wand at the ready, and saw three quarters of his grandfather clutching the side of the doorframe in order to not fall down the steps. He had splinched himself trying to apparate, and had his one attached leg tangled up in half of his wheelchair.

After all the exertion Lucius had already made that day, Scorpius was afraid this might give the old man a heart attack. Fear for his grandfather, however, was quickly mixed with fear for himself, as Lucius aimed a wand down at Scorpius.

"Incarcerous," he wheezed, but Scorpius' reflexes were quicker, and he blocked the hex.

Lucius swung his wand again, but Scorpius shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and once again disarmed his grandfather. He stood there, down in the secret chamber, with three wands in his hands but with the exit blocked.

Lucius shook with rage. "What are you going to do now, boy? Put me out of my misery? Destroy the Malfoy honor—sacrificing your own flesh and blood for those pretentious, low-born friends of yours?"

"I don't want to hurt you, Grandfather, I—"

Lucious snarled. "Where is Potter?"

"He isn't here."

"The coward abandoned you, did he? What did he steal from me?"

"Nothing, but—"

"Lies!"

"—but you need help. I don't know how to unsplinch you..."

"Narcissa can unsplinch me. Don't pretend to be worried about me, traitor. She'll be heartbroken, to find out that her own grandson is a cat in snake's skin."

Scorpius cast a cushioning charm on the stairs, to minimize the hurt if Grandfather fell, and then they stood facing each other, nothing more to be said. Scorpius had the upper hand, but he was trapped, and unwilling to hurt the old man who had always been a part of his life.

This continued for a few long minutes— Scorpius sweating under stress, Lucius growing paler and less steady, until there was a small popping sound next to Scorpius. Patto appeared.

"Dobby, help me." Lucius gasped.

"Yes, master," Patto bowed, pretending as he always did with Lucius. He snapped his fingers, and the splinched leg rejoined. Then he snapped again, and Lucius slumped into sudden slumber in his wheelchair.

"Did you take Rose home?" Scorpius asked.

"Yes."

"Good. You knew she was trapped down here?"

"House elves is having a general sense of where peoples is in our own house, even if we isn't bound to them."

Scorpius nodded. "I can't live here anymore. I'll send an owl to my parents. Will you tell Grandmother—"

"Why can't Mister Scorpius live here anymore?"

"Grandfather thinks I'm a traitor."

Patto frowned in thought. "He didn't think you was a traitor this morning. Everything was normal then. If you was making old Mister Malfoy forget about the last few hours..."

"Alter his memories? I'm not a licensed obliviator."

"Can you be doing it?"

"Maybe," Scorpius nodded, feeling clammy and nervous. He had never obliviated anyone before, but it would be the simplest way to clean up the whole disaster with no one else knowing.

o.o.o.o

Scorpius wheeled his unconscious Grandfather into his sitting room and levitated him from the wheelchair to the armchair by the fire. Patto had promised that he wouldn't wake for several hours.

Scorpius set Lucius' wands on the side table, then touched his own wand to Lucius' forehead.

"Obliviate," he said.

A pool appeared in Scorpius' mind, a rippling connection to his grandfather's memories, that he could dip into. Scorpius had practice bringing up memories with Legilimency. Obliviation should just be a matter of pulling memories up and out.

He reached in and felt for the tendrils of thought. He pictured the scene that had just taken place at the entrance to the secret chamber, and it readily floated up. The tendril came free of the pool and Scorpius felt along it, pulling out the memory of the chase to the kitchen, attacking the invisible Albus Potter, hearing suspicious sounds of people walking and talking through the corridors. No one was here today but you and me, he told Grandfather's consciousness, no Potter. We didn't open the secret chamber, I didn't take your wands, it was another quiet day of sitting.

Other threads of thought caught on to the tendril as Scorpius pulled—the image of Patto, which connected to images of other elves; the image of passing the Potter family in Diagon Alley when Albus and Scorpius were younger, which connected to a scene in Diagon Alley when Lucius slipped a diary into a little Weasley's cauldron, which connected to the image of a pale snake-like face... Scorpius tried to untangle these other threads and drop them back into the pool, but they clung and swirled chaotically and he broke a few of the more brittle ones before he finally managed to tug out the piece he needed.

Scorpius focused back on his physical surroundings. Grandfather's mouth hung slightly open. Outside the window, the grey day had darkened into evening. Something white and translucent floated past the window—Scorpius walked to the glass to see what it was, but it was gone.

Patto was waiting in the corridor. "Was it working?" he asked.

"I think so."

"And, was you and Miss Rose finding what you was looking for around the Manor?"

"Mostly. We wanted to look at the planetarium again, and she is going to translate some runes from the secret chamber."

"She was very polite to Patto."

"Yes. She likes elves, and goblins, and most things really."

"Is Mister Scorpius hungry?"

Scorpius hadn't been thinking about it, but he realized he was. They walked to the kitchen together, and Scorpius ate there. He asked Patto if he knew anything about the elf that had worked at Malfoy Manor before Dobby.

"Patto has heard of Swobby. Poor Swobby, she was Dobby's sister—you know your manor was having two or three elves at a time in some generations."

"What happened to her?"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named asked old Mister Malfoy to give her up, to use as..." Patto's voice cracked a little, "...as payment for the dementors that served him."

"Oh..." Scorpius shuddered.

"Dobby wasn't talking about her much, it was being very hard for Dobby, but he was not feeling loyal to his masters after that, and all of us who was working for Death Eaters was being scared."

Scorpius nodded. "I'm glad things are better for elves now."

Patto looked away. "Yes sir, things is all perfect now, Mister Scorpius."

o.o.o.o

Scorpius had collapsed on his bed, glad the day was done, when he was startled by a great, glowing commotion. Albus' patronus burst through the windowpane and alighted on a chair back.

"Scor, are you alright? I'm telling this patronus to wait until you are alone to approach you, so I don't know when you are receiving this, but Rose and I are waiting to hear from you. She heard your grandfather shouting, and we're worried. You should come visit us. We will be at the Burrow on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, with the whole clan, so why don't you come to my house before all of that—tomorrow. It will just be my family, and maybe Rose's. Please reply as soon as you can."

Scorpius sat up wearily and wrote a reassuring reply, even promising to come visit on the following afternoon. If he wanted Rose to ever consider coming near the manor again, he ought to show willingness to visit her family in return. He opened his window and whistled into the cold evening air until Antares returned from hunting, then Scorpius mailed the letter, and finally went to sleep.

o.o.o.o

According to Al, the Potter's house was at the east end of a row of muggle cottages in Godric's Hollow. Scorpius wondered why, then, there were runes carved in the corner fence posts of every house he walked past. But of course, he reasoned, the Potters are the sort of wizards who would set protections around their muggle neighbors.

When he did reach the end of the street, there were hardly any differences between this house and the rest. It had the same little iron gate, the same brick and half-timber cottage, the same steady glow of muggle lighting from the windows. Only a wizard would notice the runes above the doorway or the snow-charmed valerian flowers blooming among the ivy.

Scorpius opened the gate and stepped in between two stately holly trees that stood on either side of the path. Crowded with red berries, the holly looked festive, but to Scorpius it also looked prickly and forbidding.

He stood unmoving, undecided, for a long moment. A bowtruckle wandered out from under one of the holly trees. Then it saw Scorpius there, fled chattering back into the tree, and Scorpius' confidence fled with it. He turned and lunged for the gate.

"Petrificus quadriplegus," said a laughing voice, and Scorpius' limbs froze. "Where are you going, Malfoy?"

"Nowhere, apparently, Potter."

James Potter removed his invisibility cloak. "We've been wondering when you would come inside."

Scorpius grimaced. "As soon as you let me move."

"Finite. Hurry up!" James laughed as he led the way.

Albus opened the front door. "Enter, greetings, and welcome and all that!"

For a moment, the small doorway was a haven between the chilly outdoors, and a broad entry hall where bright, warm light gleamed on polished wood. The stairs revealed that there were at least three levels. It's bigger on the inside, Scorpius realized. Not surprising.

James wandered further into the house, announcing, "Warning! A dark wizard has breached the defences!"

Al whispered, "I'm glad you came. Is everything really safe with your grandpa?"

"Yes. He doesn't remember what happened."

"Rose and I were panicking, waiting to hear from you. We almost told Aunt Hermione. Why didn't you send Patto instead of Antares?"

"I didn't think of it."

Al stared at Scorpius. "If you could send a Patronus message, that would have been even faster."

"Well, sorry," Scorpius retorted, now getting annoyed in return.

Al sighed. "It's alright. I'm glad the memory charm worked. You know, you're welcome to stay with us for the rest of the holiday, if you don't want to go back there."

"No thanks."

"Okay, Scor." Al acquiesced, and led the way into a comfortable open kitchen and family room. There was an abundance of Christmas decorations, appetizing smells, and people.

Mrs. Potter greeted Scorpius, and Rose gave him a half-smile from the table where she was playing chess with her mother. James had sprawled out on a couch with a Quidditch magazine, next to Mr. Potter, who was reading a thick book. Mrs. Potter, Lily, and the elves Kreah and Reg were decorating an elaborate gingerbread castle.

"Who's winning now? Al asked as he moved toward the chess table.

"I believe I am," said Professor Weasley genially.

"Hmm," mused Rose while Al and Scorpius sat down.

Al nudged Scorpius and pointed to the kitchen. Behind Mrs. Potter's back, Reg was holding a bowl of icing. He had mixed an assortment of sweets into it, and waving his thin fingers, he was multiplying the mixture until it rose above the bowl.

Scorpius watched curiously as the elf took this sticky mixture, shrunk it into the size of a single gum drop, and handed it to Lily. Then he took a step back, snapped his fingers, and it exploded to its full volume, all over her face and robes.

"Merlin! Reg!" she shouted, amid general laughter.

"You is looking very sweet, Lily!" Reg squeaked innocently, then burst into giggles.

Professor Weasley retrieved a camera from a cupboard, and snapped a picture of her niece, covered in gluey icing and candy.

Mrs. Potter looked Lily up and down, then started to wave her wand. "Hold still dear, we'll have this off in a moment," she said, but her wand work was having very little effect. If anything, Lily was becoming even more sugar-coated.

Mrs. Potter frowned, then rounded on her elf. "Reg! Are you stopping this from coming clean?"

Reg giggled harder. Kreah looked torn between shock and laughter.

"Aghh! We have failed as parents, Harry. Even our house-elf is a troublemaker!"

Mr. Potter shook his head in mock-disappointment. "We never could get any of them to behave. It's my fault, I'm sure."

"Oh no!" Reg trembled. "Master is wonderful. Reg is sorry!"

Mrs. Potter patted him on the head, laughing. "That was a very clever prank. We wouldn't actually want a family that behaves all the time. Besides, we know we haven't failed all of you; Lily isn't a troublemaker."

"For all you know..." said James.

"What?" demanded Mr. Potter.

Lily rolled her eyes. "James is joking. This is very funny, Reg, but can you get this goo off me please?"

Reg snapped his fingers, then squeaked in dismay. Lily's hair was standing on end and her robes looked threadbare and bleached. She was smoking slightly.

Kreah breathed, "sometimes it is best to clean by hand."

"Reg didn't mean to sanitize you, Lily, oh!" Reg wailed.

Lily giggled. "Whew! That felt weird. Don't worry, Reg. I'm fine, but I need to go change," and she headed into the hall.

"Don't change too much," Mr. Potter called after her. "We like you the way you are!"

"Dad! That joke was funny the first time," Lily shouted in response as she climbed the stairs.

"I don't think she was born the first time," commented James from behind his magazine. "C'mere, Reg, I think you deserve a seat next to me."

"Was I being that bad?" Reg moaned.

"What? I mean I'm proud of you. Come!"

Reg glared at him. "You isn't my master. Don't be saying 'come!' at me."

"I will be when Dad and Mum die."

"Not you James. I'll be serving Lily."

"It doesn't work like that. I'm the eldest."

"So? Reg is being enslaved to whoever Reg wants!"

"No, Reg," Mr. Potter explained, "Unless we free you, you'll be bound to James. Of course, James will give you permission to go where you please."

Al whispered to Scorpius, "Kreah and Reg's father was an old elf Dad inherited from the Black family. His dying wish was that we would never free Reg."

"What about Kreah?" Scorpius whispered back.

"Aunt Hermione had already freed her, as soon as they took her home with them. Old Kreacher hated Aunt Hermione for it, but apparently he already hated her for being muggle-born, so she didn't care much."

"Checkmate," Professor Weasley said, and Rose sighed.

"Good game, mum."

The back door opened.

"Scorpius!" sang out Emilia's cheery voice, and Scorpius felt a delightful rush of relief to see her there. At least there is one person here who I know doesn't judge, he thought, one person I'm not trying to impress.

Emilia, Hugo, and their father came in. They brushed snow out of their hair. It looked like they had been flying.

"She loved it," Ron said, and everyone responded happily. Emilia bounced over to Scorpius, showing him her broomstick.

"It's my early Christmas present. You know it's really safe to fly and comfy?"

"I didn't know that, but it sounds great."

"Because my mummy and aunts and uncles are super experts at broomstick enchanting but also want me to do some safe flying and not too crazy rolls or dives."

"How is that pizza doing?" Ron asked, and he strolled over to the oven to check. The kitchen appliances looked basically muggle, but Scorpius suspected that they ran on magic.

The house elves casually continued decorating the gingerbread castle, while Ron Weasley and Ginny Potter pulled six large pizzas out of the (definitely magical) oven.

"Kids, set the table please!" said Mrs. Potter.

Al and James took hold of either side of the wooden table and stretched it out to double its length, and then did the same with the benches. Rose and Hugo went for plates and silverware, and Scorpius trailed after them, attempting to be helpful. Lily returned, and they all helped until the table was set with pizza, fruit, garden salad, and water. It was a simple meal for such wealthy, high-ranking wizarding families, but apparently they didn't care. Perhaps they were saving the feast for Christmas.

Rose sat on one side of Scorpius, and Al probably meant to sit on the other side, but Emilia claimed the place first. When everyone was settled, Mr. Potter smiled and said, "I'm thankful for Ginny's sense of humor," which Scorpius thought was an out-of-place comment, but then each person around the table stated something they were thankful for. Emmie said, "I'm thankful Scorpius is here so we have more Slytherin power in this house!"

Scorpius fidgeted. "Er, I'm thankful for music."

That was lame, he thought, but then Rose said, "I'm thankful for Arithmancy," and that made it seem more fitting.

While eating, Professor Weasley and Kreah talked about the Department of Cooperation and Communication with Magical Beings.

"The werewolves asked for a group of elves to deliver their wolfsbane ingredients individually, because shopping for them themselves is potentially embarrassing, they said," explained Kreah.

"What do they propose to pay each delivery elf?"

"Two knuts a day."

"Only that?"

"Many elves would be willing to, and they said any more would be prohibitive. I think it might be a good service—we might not have any werewolves choosing to go without the potion that way," Kreah offered.

"Consider whether you want to let them take advantage of elves so heavily, though...werewolf rights and support services are important, but they each still need to be held accountable for managing their own transformations."

Kreah looked strained. "How do I tell them that? The werewolves..."

"I know some of them can be intimidating."

Kreah squeaked in agreement.

Rose joined in, "Kreah, maybe you need another elf or two to go in to the ministry and back you up."

Kreah threw up her hands. "There isn't anyone else who will!"

Rose looked at Scorpius.

"My—I mean, Patto might consider it. He has had a lot of experiences, and might give you more perspective," he said.

"We've asked him before, I think," said Kreah, but she looked hopeful. "I'd appreciate another elf who can handle talking to ministry humans and werewolves and goblins...it can be difficult."

"He can handle my senile grandfather; he can probably handle anything."

"Senile? What is old Lucius Malfoy up to these days?" Mr. Potter asked.

"Nothing, he just sits...usually."

Reg piped up, asking, "What is it being like, living with a Death Eater? Is he being a loving grandpa?"

Mr. Potter cleared his throat. "Reg, that is a personal matter."

"You were all talking about it before he—" Reg slouched down, silenced by the looks the family was giving him.

Scorpius answered, "It's okay. My grandfather loves...he loves himself, and I'm one of his heirs, so...as long as he sees me as an extension of himself, he wants the best for me."

Al asked, "And if he knew how different you are from him?"

"He would be...very disappointed." Scorpius shrugged.

When the eating had slowed down, and Professor Weasley had helped Emmie wipe sauce off her face, Hugo claimed the last slice of pizza and said, "let's watch a film. Has Scorpius ever seen a film? They're like paintings with a whole story, that you watch on a special machine—"

"Yeah, I've seen films."

"Oh."

"Return of the Jedi," suggested James.

"Let's play a game or something instead," objected Mrs. Potter. "We should actually interact with each other instead of looking at a screen."

Emmie tugged at Scorpius' sleeve. "Scorpius can play the piano for us, and we can dance!"

Al jumped up. "Yes! Clear the table, and Scor can transfigure it into a grand piano."

Scorpius shook his head, trying to look humble, but secretly he hoped they would pressure him into it, because he was far more comfortable playing music than trying to participate in conversation. As a general rule, he preferred playing music to doing anything else.

"I would enjoy some music, though I'll leave the dancing to younger people," said Professor Weasley.

"Yes!" Emmie spoke, and the matter was settled.

Scorpius waved his wand over the table, and it morphed into a large, shiny instrument. On a whim, Scorpius waved his wand again and gave it a painted holly garland design around the sides.

"Blimey," Emilia said appreciatively.

Scorpius began to play 'Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly.' Emilia, Al, and the elves jumped and skipped in a circle. After a few minutes Lily and Hugo joined in.

Mr. Weasley initiated a chess tournament for those who weren't dancing, which included Rose.

After a few more songs, there was a chime from the front hall.

"Who is that?" Harry Potter wondered, his wand already in hand.

"Probably mum and dad," said Ron, "did I forget to mention that they were dropping by tonight?"

Scorpius stood from the bench and whispered to Al. "I had better be going; I'll take the back door."

"No, stay, I want to show you something golden," Al whispered back.

"Golden?"

Emilia loudly asked, "Why did you stop playing, Scorpius?" drawing everyone's attention to him.

"I just..."

Al put a friendly hand on Scorpius' shoulder. "Grandma and Grandpa are verifiably the nicest old couple that has ever lived on earth."

"Therefore, I don't want to ruin their evening."

Al rolled his eyes.

"If you're really not comfortable with meeting them, put this on," Mr. Potter said, and handed over James' cloak. It was the silkiest thing Scorpius had ever touched.

"I'll get the door," Mrs. Potter said.

"Just sit down and play," Al instructed, while Scorpius got under the cloak. "We'll tell them it's a magic piano."

Emmie chuckled.

Scorpius found that the cloak was not too much of an obstacle between his fingers and the keys, though it was odd to watch the keys move without actually seeing his hands. He played 'The Entertainer,' true to player piano tradition. Arthur and Molly Weasley came in with hugs for everyone, and immediately noticed the piano.

"A jukebox!" Arthur exclaimed. "Where did you find one of these?"

"I made it," Al said proudly.

"What a beautiful thing," added Molly, running a hand along it, but thankfully not feeling around to the keyboard side. "I didn't know you were such a fine artist, Albus."

"Dance with us!" said Emilia, and pulled her grandfather into the circle. He was quite happy to comply. If there was any stiffness in his knees, he made up for it by bouncing his elbows excessively.

When Scorpius finished 'The Entertainer,' he played a fun South American ragtime piece called 'Galhofiera." Emilia imitated Arthur's jaunty, goofy way of dancing, then she grabbed both of his hands and they spun around each other, laughing out of the pure pleasure of being together.

Being invisible, Scorpius could look around the room freely. He watched Rose thoughtfully moving her chess pieces, and he noticed with a small amount of satisfaction that she tapped her toes in time with his music. He wished she would dance, and he poured all the energy and expression he could into his playing, trying to lure her away from the chessboard.

Molly Weasley continued to admire the piano. Albus noticed her moving dangerously close to Scorpius, and he steered her away.

"Let me show you how it works, Gran," Al said, and he patted the top. "I've put about two thousand pages of muggle sheet music inside here, and bewitched the piano to be able to read them. The best part is, it chooses what to play by gauging the moods of everyone in the vicinity. Or, you can tell it what to play."

"That is perfectly brilliant, Albus," Molly said. "Ahem—play 'Don't Be a Naughty Pixie.'"

Scorpius grit his teeth. He could see Rose trying not to laugh, her eyes watering with the effort. He pounded out a few notes of the atrocious melody along with some minor chords in any key but the right one.

"Oh dear!" Grandma Weasley's eyes went wide.

Hermione said, "Maybe it doesn't know that one. You said you only put muggle music in, right Al?"

"It should know that one," Al grinned mischievously, "maybe I need to turn it off for a little while," he said, drawing his wand.

Whatever you're threatening to do, Al, you had better not! Scorpius thought. Fine, I'll show them. He drew his own wand, and maneuvered under the cloak so he could set it on top of the piano. It required him to bring his feet up under him in an awkward kneeling position. Then he started playing, making the sounds of a drum set. He brought in a saxophone, and soon had a jazz band sizzling as he improvised and expanded on the original song. Emilia danced over to his side and started singing along. It was a challenge to accompany her—her timing wasn't perfect—but Scorpius was up to it.

"I've tried to catch you—in vain—you keep on buzzing around my brain..." she sang.

The Weasley grandparents started to dance with each other and Lily, Hugo, Al, and James jumped and shouldered each other to the beat, endangering the things on the bookshelves. The house-elves stomped their feet and flapped their ears. The chess tournament was forgotten, while even those least inclined toward dancing watched Emilia and the "magic piano" perform. Mr. Weasley's mouth was slightly open, impressed in spite of himself, and Rose's cheeks were very pink. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were grinning and whispering to each other.

Scorpius felt oddly disconnected—his piano was the center of attention, but he was invisible, and he was alien to the bond of genuine family affection that everyone else was sharing. He missed his own parents. He loved them, but he wished they could act less formal, and he wished they didn't have to spend thousands of galleons and travel halfway around the world so they could pretend to be happy.

Emilia waved, blew kisses, and basked in her audience's praise.

"Can you play 'The Holly and the Ivy'?" Professor Weasley requested.

He began it, while Al's grandparents complimented Al effusively on his "invention." James transfigured Al into a peacock, then submitted to being scolded by his grandmother while Reg attempted to pluck Al's feathers, and for once Scorpius appreciated James.

Molly Weasley untransfigured Al (no one else was in a hurry to do so). Al watched Rose win the chess game she was playing against Mr. Potter, and then she and Al left the room.

Where are they going? Scorpius thought, miffed at being left alone with his friends' families. He decided it was time for some trickery. He took his wand in two fingers and used the other eight to play.

Impello Mnemoceive. He prepared the piano for a repetitive motion charm. He played the last verse of 'A Partridge in a Pear Tree,' with all 12 parts distinguished magically by silent incantations, then he charmed the piano to play the pattern of the whole song—to add parts verse by verse. Finally he charmed it to repeat the entire thing faster and an octave up, just in case he needed that much time. After setting that long formula to work, he stood, wrapped the cloak tightly around himself, and slipped out of the room.

Scorpius tiptoed through the corridor and up the stairs. He glanced into a room devoted to potion brewing, a room like a breezy flowering hillside, a couple of guest bedrooms, a luxurious bathroom, and finally found Al and Rose in the Potter's cluttered library. The door was ajar, and Scorpius slipped in unnoticed.

Al was standing up on a ladder, reaching for a large golden egg that was on display on an upper shelf, and he was saying, "...don't try to deny it, Rose."

"I don't deny he's very talented on the piano. Emmie was certainly enjoying herself."

"Like a fairy in a zinkle-berry bush."

Rose smiled. "Anyway, we didn't get nearly enough information from his manor yesterday. I'll have to go there again, if I can.

Al descended the ladder, golden egg under his arm.

The library door swung wider, and Harry Potter strode in with Reg. "What are you three doing up here?" he asked.

Scorpius remembered what Patto had said about knowing where people were in their house. I forgot about Reg...classic pureblood fail. He removed the cloak, and held it out to Mr. Potter.

"Al was going to show me that golden egg, Mr. Potter," he said.

"That golden egg happens to be mine."

Al got over his surprise and answered, "I'll only show him, dad. He's interested in Mer gold."

"It's Mer?" Scorpius inquired.

"Yes, and you should hear the difference between the sounds it makes in air and water."

"Do you mind if we show him?" Rose asked.

"I suppose not. I'll—whoa!" He exclaimed, as Al created a deep, gleaming pool of water right at their feet, in the library floor.

Mr. Potter raised an eyebrow, "you could use the bathroom."

Al jumped in, fully robed, then bobbed up to the surface. "Come on in, Scor!"

Scorpius resignedly sat and slipped into the water, trusting that Al could dry them off again as soon as they were out.

Under the water, the egg sang a haunting, ethereal song about taking something valuable from someone, but above the water it made a horrible screeching noise.

"There is definitely more to that than the physics of sound!" Scorpius said, as Al dried them and removed the pool.

Mr. Potter suggested, "Magic?"

"The patterns of the Mer voices get mixed up, in some way," Rose said, "But their voices are embedded in the gold, so it's the gold itself that is emitting the magic sound."

"May I borrow it, sir, or come look at it again, when I have a velometer?" Scorpius asked.

"Yes, Hermione has told me about your experiment with repelling dementors, just be careful with it—I had to fight a dragon for it."

"I will, Mr. Potter. Thank you."

Harry Potter had begun to tell the story of the Triwizard Tournament, when they heard Arthur Weasley call out, "Albus, the jukebox has stopped working!"

Mr. Potter looked amused as he told Scorpius, "It sounds like you're wanted downstairs."

"Actually, it's about time for me to be going home. Grandmother thinks I'm out shopping for presents, but the shops will be closing, so she'll wonder... I enjoyed dinner, thanks for inviting me."

Al said, "Glad you came. I'll think of an excuse for the piano."

Scorpius took the golden egg and slipped out the front door. He began walking to a discreet place to disapparate, when he heard Rose following him.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to you about the enchantment on your manor," she said. "We need to find more runes." He nodded, and she continued. "The ones I've recorded only effect strength and security. Nothing mentions wealth or money except the runes above the door—you know, the line about the thousand years' plenty—and it only appears that once, like a decoration rather than an enchantment. It isn't enough to have much effect."

"Right," he replied, "you could come there again after Christmas, and in the mean time, I can look around on my own."

She nodded.

Scorpius said, "Maybe the missing pieces are in the planetarium, or out on the grounds."

"You never mentioned there being runes on the grounds."

"I haven't seen runes, but there are a few interesting stones. I think there were a pattern of them around the border, once, but only a few are left."

"That sounds worth investigating. When can we get everyone out of the manor?"

"Well, grandfather never leaves the manor..."

"What if he was invited to a special event?"

"He gets invited to special events all the time. He doesn't go. I think trying to get him out would raise suspicions. But we'd be fine if we stay away from the main floor..." Scorpius ignored the incredulous shaking of Rose's head and pressed on, "...The family lives on the main and second floors most of the time. We could fly in through the windows on the fourth floor and climb the planetarium tower from there. And no one would be out on the grounds, especially in the winter."

Rose sighed. "Alright, it's probably unwise, but I'll try again. The rest of the holiday is going to be busy for me, but on a Hogsmeade day..."

"...we could apparate to the manor. Excellent."

"Yes," she said, uncertain. "I'll see you at school then. Have a good Christmas."

It was a beautiful, sparkling night in Godric's Hollow, and Scorpius had to resist the impulse to step closer to her. He wished he had something cleverer to say than, "Merry Christmas, Rose."

o.o.o.o

Scorpius endured a quiet celebration with his grandparents. There were expensive gifts, owls from Draco and Astoria, and elaborate meals that must have kept Patto busy all day, but none of the joy Scorpius had witnessed at the Potters'. Grandfather seemed to scowl at Scorpius more often than before, but it could have been his imagination.

o.o.o.o

Notes:

Can this still be rated K, or were the scenes with Lucius Malfoy intense enough that it should change to T?

When I write Scorpius' thoughts in italics, is that ever confusing? I have some ideas for a story where there is a lot of mind-reading and mental communication, so I want to be able to write characters' thoughts into the middle of a story without it being awkward. Any suggestions?