mischiefmaker (ex_mischiefm67) wrote in albie, @ 2007-09-13 04:32:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | adult content, albus/scorpius, mature situations, pre-slash, slash |
Fandom: HP
Pairings: None really, yet, at least, maybe George/Draco down the line. But there will be definite undertones of Scorpius/Albus.
Characters: Albus, Scorpius, James, Rose, Victoure, Neville, maybe a couple of other Professors, some Aurors, Draco, and a couple of OC’s (yis hates them too my bad!)
Warnings: All around a little squicky in places. Not for infantile minds, immature people. Some rape imagery, some abuse, and a very pissed off Herbology Teacher!
Summary: All is not what it seems in the Malfoy family. A father, a son, no mother, and little means with witch to live. Draco has more things to worry about then what one would expect, to many burdens at too young an age, and likewise his own son gets a lesson that he won’t soon forget. Albus Potter notices something isn’t right. Will his brother, cousins, and Head of House get to him before it’s too late?
Beta’d?: :wince: no. Well, yes. I did it myself, and I caught a lot of my own mistakes, but yeah… oy….
::whimper::
***
Albus just knew that something dreadful had happened, it was the one and only conclusion he could come up with. After all, this was Scorpius Malfoy that he was talking about; Scorpius loved Defense Against the Dark Arts almost as much as he loved Potions and Herbology, and he had missed all three classes four days in a row.
Of course, his classmates were all saying that he was just feeling under the weather and staying in bed; an excuse that would have been fine if not for a few small details: 1) Scorpius hadn’t gone to Madame Pomfrey-and she was always the first to know if anyone so much as sniffled inside the walls of Hogwarts, 2) His fellow Slytherins hadn’t been collecting his homework, which is exactly what housemates were supposed to do in such situations, 3) There was something about the way that some of the Slytherins giggled whenever one of the students told the teacher of how Scorpius was feeling under the weather, that just didn’t sit well at all with Albus and 4) (and he only noticed this because he had gotten Scorpius to talk to him--a couple of times when he was really very homesick--Scorpius had confided in him that he wanted to make his father proud, that he would do anything to keep his grades up, because he wanted his father to know that going to Hogwarts was the best thing ever and worth the money that they didn’t really have for him to go.
Granted, Albus didn’t know a lot about Scorpius or his father Draco Malfoy, but from the little he could glean off his friend… things weren’t exactly what one might expect. Albus wasn’t even sure if he had understood him properly, but from what Scorpius had confided in him, he and his father slept on one bed in a cramped two room apartment on the wrong side of a bad neighborhood. His father worked endless exhausting hours for little to no pay sometimes, and it was just the two of them; he wasn’t even sure he had a mum. The lady that had come with him and his Da to the platform was a co-worker that often checked in on them. The way Scorpius had explained, everything that they had seen at the platform was an elaborate illusion. His Da’s coat hadn’t looked that nice ever, but he hadn’t wanted his only child’s send off to be ogled by people that had once known him, so he had cast a very intricate Glamour Charm over his outfit and himself so that he wouldn’t look nearly as tired or run down as what he normally did.
Albus shook his head sharply as he entered the Great Hall. First; he had to find Jamesy, then he could concentrate on his search…he just had to figure out where to start.
He spotted James sitting in the usual spot in the middle of the table and jogged over to him. “Jamesy, Jamesy… I … I need your help.”
“Hrm?” James looked over his shoulder distractedly. “I told you not to use that nickname here.” He muttered under his breath.
“But… but this is important, Jamesy!” Albus tugged on his robes relentlessly.
“Oh kay, oh kay, what is it that is so important that you can’t let me eat my bloody lunch?” He snapped, slamming his fork down with a loud clatter.
Albus shrunk back a little, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the frayed hem of his sleeve. “It… it… I…”
Seeing the wetness form on his baby brothers eyelashes James sighed. “Sorry bout that, Albie…” he whispered, tugging the smaller boy closer so that no one could hear what was being said. “I’ve just had a not so great day, okay?”
Albus perked up upon hearing James’s childhood nickname for him. He dashed away his tears of frustration and forced himself to continue on. “It’s… it’s Scorpius Malfoy.”
James groaned a little. “What happened this time? Did he hex you? If he did, so help me Merlin-“
“No! He’s not done anything…I don’t think… see, that’s just the thing. No one has seen him in days and days!”
“Hmm… have you asked the Slytherins?”
“Yeah, but they all say he’s not feeling well.”
“Well, there you go, he’s just sick.”
“But Jamesy, he’s not been to seen Madame Pomfrey, I’ve checked! She’s heard nothing from him about any ailment or sickness.”
James’ brow furrowed. “Well, that is rather odd.” He looked over his shoulder until he caught Victoure’s eye, Victoure nodded, excused herself and came over.
“Zumthingk wrongk, mon ami?”
“Yeah, Albie here says that Scorpius Malfoy hasn’t been seen in… how long?” He looked to Albus.
“For four whole days! He hasn’t been to any meals, any classes, and he was ‘aposed to meet me in the library on Wednesday so that I could help him with his Transfiguration—he’s dead awful at it- but he never showed up. He didn’t even send a note, and Scorpius is always very courteous about that kind of stuff, ya know. And this time, nothing. I waited forever for him, and he didn’t show. And I asked Madam Prince, and she hasn’t seen him. I’ve asked other people in my year from other Houses, and no one has seen him. I’ve even asked the ruddy ghosts, and they haven’t seen him either!”
“Langeege, Alboos,” She chastised him.
“Sorry,” he grumbled, having thought that the situation warranted a little dirty language. “But that’s beside the point! No one has seen him! And no one’s been collecting his homework, and Scorpius is loathe of being behind, drives him barking mad!” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, he didn’t think they were getting it, and it was making him quite desperate.
Victoure and James shared a look, and then Victoure nodded in agreement. “Zo, have zhu askt hiz Het of Hoose.”
James gave a low snort. “You mean good old Slug-for-brains? He wouldn’t give Scorpius the time of day unless you he had a string of Basilisk Teeth strung around his neck.” James grunted bitterly, he would admit that the man was brilliant with potions, but he would be even better if he got his head out of his ass and started treating people equally- apparently, “equality” was a concept as foreign to Slughorn as a healthy well balanced diet.
“Well, zen, we will hov to go Profezzor Lungbootum.” James had to swallow a snicker; he loved it when Victoure attempted to say their Head of House’s name. She leveled him with a scathing look and he threw his hands into the air in surrender. “Farst, we ask aroon, we make shar to tull zem zat zey are noot to admeet to wut we wir talkingk about, and zen, we tell Pr-…” she cleared her throat, glaring at James. “Zen, we tell our Head of Houz of our zuzpizions, un ask for heez help.”
“Agreed, Albus?”
Albus let out a deep sigh of relief. Finally, someone that took him seriously. “Yes! Yes! When do we start?”
“Aftar loonch. I am fameeshed!”
****
Draco kept on telling himself that it was okay, that nothing was wrong, that it was very well possible that Scorpius had a ton and a half of school work and early (make that very early) revising to get done and he had simply just not gotten around to writing his father like he had promised he would.
“Da, is it okay if I write you, a lot? I mean… not like everyday… but you know… like every other day… or every… three days… I mean… you know…”
Draco smiled at his one and only sons anxiety, he felt it too, he didn’t want to send him off, but keeping him home wasn’t an option either, not in the neighborhood they lived in. After all, it was the most that he could afford, and even that was stretching it.
“How about this; I’ll write you every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, that way, you can reply to me and not have to worry about forgetting.” Seeing his sons tense shoulders relaxed was a relief to him. “I’m not going to forget you, Thunder.” He promised him, pulling him into a close embrace. He felt his son sigh against his neck at the use of his old nickname, a nickname given to him when he tried to explain the color of his eyes. ‘Not like the lightening, but the thunder that rolls just after it, when the flash is bright as it gets.’ He hadn’t used it in a while, but it had a way of connecting with his little boy when he needed it the most.
They remained standing like that until Thunder moved and rested his forehead against his fathers and sighed heavily. “I just don’t want you to forget me, and I don’t want you to be lonely.”
“I could never forget my Thunder, and I won’t be alone.” Scorpius snorted at this. “What? It’s the truth! I have my job at the Apothecary to keep me from missing you to dreadfully, but hey,” he pulled his sons face so that their eyes were close, so close that he could swear that he could see the wheels of his Da’s brain running behind his iris, “I could never ever forget you.” He dropped his sons gaze and pulled him close again. “I just don’t want you to forget me either.” He whispered sadly.
Scorpius answered by squeezing him with all of his might. “My Da is the best Da is the whole wizarding world. I could never forget ye.”
Draco swallowed harshly on the lump in his throat as his boss walked by, shuffling his feet, grumbling about his incompetence, swearing to dock his pay if the potions didn’t come out right. Not that Horace O’Grady had ever paid him fairly, but it wouldn’t be the first (or the last) time that his pay had been docked because of O’Grady’s desire to see him as miserable as humanly possible.
Draco couldn’t help but glance up every time an owl came by; hoping, praying that it would be the one that he had managed to haggle the owners of the Magical Menagerie into practically giving to him… but alas, none of the owls had the distinctive tan patch on their chest.
Horace walked by his work station and pounded him on the back of his head with a rolled up Daily Prophet. “What was that for?”
“Keep warking! Ye’ve goot nay time to be deedraymin ye warthlus Dark Scavenger, or there’ll be no bane for the Wolf this full!” He laughed heartily as Draco grimaced sharply, ducked his head down and got back to work. If he could find employment somewhere, anywhere other than this nasty old place, with that nasty old man, he would have. But there aren’t too many places that would open its doors to a Werewolf; he knows it, and so does O’Grady.
‘Please, Thunder, write me, come on son, just put me fears to rest.’ He prayed as he worked through lunch, past closing and into the dark of night, all the while, the feeling of dread and fear in his gut grew worse, something was wrong, something was very wrong. He just didn’t know what.
Neville had listened to the four of them (Rose had insisted on joining them as she and Scorpius did play the occasional game of Wizards’ Chess) with a level head, a calm expression, and attentive ears. When they were all done he felt like an idiot. “I knew I should have said something to Horace. I did say something to him on Monday. But he said everything was under control. He assured me that no harm could come to one of his first years under his watchful eye.” He let out a long breath. “What a bloody idiot I am.” He shook his head and closed his eye.
“Okay, here’s what we are going to do. Since tomorrow…” he looked at the clock on the wall, ‘dammit, we’ve been talking for hours. It’s nearly midnight.’ “Correction, this morning, after breakfast, or before it if I can wrangle all of the teachers and the Headmaster together, I will explain the situation. Then, we’ll scour the premises. He can’t have possibly left the building, the Centaurs act as our pupils’ guardians now, informing us of any unusual activity regarding the comings and goings of our young, they’ve been our pupil’s guardians since the end of the Second War here at Hogwarts.” The children nodded, he had their rapt attention.
“That means he’s still in the building; which is rather frightening considering we’re all in the building.” He made a mental note to floo Harry to come and give the ‘Chamber of Secrets’ a good look around. ‘Damn, how I am going to explain that one to him? Oy, not a fun prospect, but it must be done’ He thought ruefully to himself.
He could tell by the way that James had his arm protectively draped around Albus’ shoulders as the boy wrung his tiny hands together that both boys had inherited their fathers need and desire to fight for what they believed in, even if it meant plunging themselves into a common room of bitter Slytherins that were none to happy to oblige them.
“You guys might as well go to back to your dorms.” He said after a second. He was unsurprised when they all groaned. “Look. Everyone is asleep. Nothing is going to get done properly if we’re all dead on our feet.” ‘I really shouldn’t have used the D word, dammit.’ He cursed himself. “Look, as I see it, if we start now, we’re all libel to overlook something, something that could possibly lead us directly too Scorpius.” He reached over and covered Albus’ hands with his own large hands and gave them a good squeeze. “It’s okay Albus; we’re all a little worried okay? Here, I want you to take this before you got to bed.” Neville pulled out a small vial of a purple liquid.
“If any of you have done your Potions homework, you know that this is a small dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion. Now, I realize that you don’t take any potions, Albus, but I think, just this once, you deserve a full nights rest before you go off searching for your friend.”
James almost felt insulted, but then he looked down at Albus’ stricken face and accepted the potion from his Professor. “You’re not just doing this for show; you are going to help us, right?” He asked softly, hoping that Albus would be too wound up (he inherited that from Dad too) to pay attention.
Neville knew better than to take his words to heart, he was protecting his brother, he expected nothing less. “No, I’m not putting you on. I have every intention of scouring this castle from one end to the other until we find him.” He wondered, absently, if he should ask the Head Master if it would be okay if he carried the Sorting Hat around with him; it had worked last time after all.
“Thank you Professor, it means a lot to us.” Rose said softly, Victoure nodded.
“We zhoul get going, mon ami’z. Eet, ees pazt curfoo already… we do no want to get caught, yisno?” Victoure added softly.
“Ah, forgot about that…” he chuckled. “I remember when your parents and I were in school, it didn’t matter what time they went out; they never got caught.” He smiled at the wane smiles they gave him, but Albus was staring off into space, deep in thought. “I’ll walk you back, that way I can get you back to the tower safely, and at the same time, prevent any house points from being deducted… oh… and for your concern for your fellow students despite their being of a differing house, 50 points to Gryffindor for each of you.”
James, Victoure, and Rose all smiled, Albus looked up started. “Huh… what happened?”
“Nothing, Albie, we’re just getting ready to go back to the tower.”
“Oh.. okay… I’m just… you know… worried… I hope he’s not to scared, wherever he is…” he whispered mournfully and distracted as his hands squeezed the vial in his hands tightly.
James gave his shoulder a squeeze and dropped a kiss onto his raven mop top. “Twill work out in the end, you’ll see.” He whispered, but got no real response.
“Everyone ready? Kay, we’ll just… hang on a …” a thought just occurred to Neville. He wondered… he had no idea if it would work… but it couldn’t hurt to try. “Before I take you all back to the Tower; let’s check something first… James, you wouldn’t happen to have a map of Hogwarts by any chance, would you?”
James looked at him confused. “No sir, I don’t.”
Neville’s brow furrowed. “Ah, that’s okay, we can still check out one last thing before we take you back okay?”
All three shrugged; Albus would have shrugged too, but he too busy worrying to think about anything else. They all followed Neville out the door curiously, as they had no idea what they were about to discover.
***
Somewhere deep in Knockturn Alley, in the back room of an old seedy Apothecary, Draco Malfoy sat on a makeshift bed that had been transfigured out of a work bench. He hated this part of the job… but it was the only way he kept his bloody job. Sometimes he even thought it would be worth it if he quit, but then he would imagine the look of disappointment in his son’s eyes and he complied, like always.
He heard the back door creak shut and grimaced.
“That ruddy bitch gone yet?”
“Anastasia’s gone home for the night sir.” He whispers as he starts to unbutton his shirt.
“You still not undress yit? ‘Member the last time you dawdled?”
“I’m sorry sir, I just…”
“BAH! No excuses! Just hurry up you filthy worthliss bag of bones.” He growled, prodding him with the bottom of his wooden cane.
“Yessir,” he whispered in resignation, he remembered what happened the last time he had dawdled, the buttons had gotten stuck and O’Grady had ended up hexing it off of him… he had really liked that shirt too… he was still trying to pack it back together on his rare day off.
“Ah, there you are… filthy little bitch.” The old man growled as he turned and saw that Draco was totally undressed. Draco sat on the creaky uncomfortable mattress, his shoulders hunched over so much that he was very nearly doubled over. “Filthy, worthliss, stupid little bitch, arnchee?” He rasped, as his cold, calloused, hard hands rubbed his back then slid onto his belly. “Heh? I didn’t hear no answer, boy!”
“Sorry, sir, yes… stupid, worthless, filthy mongrel.”
This earned his a sharp slap.
“BITCH! I called ye a BITCH! Stupid mongrel!”
“S-sorry,” he was too busy internalizing, too busy shutting himself off, too busy trying to concentrate on his sons face as the mattress dipped behind him and one nasty, cold, hard, calloused hand joined the other in rubbing him down ‘sensually ’. “Stupid, worthless, filthy bitch.” He whispered, knowing that if he raised his voice even a little that O’Grady would get mad, and a mad O’Grady took his time. He didn’t want that at all.
“Good, good,” the man whispered his breath reeked of cheap Fire Whiskey; Draco caught a whiff of it as the old man breathed heavily against his shoulder. “Wouldn’t want our mongrel to forget his place, now would we?” He chuckled as his chapped dry lips descended onto his neck, scraping against his skin.
“No sir, I won’t forget my place.” He heard his voice whisper distantly.
“And where is that place?” The old man queried, as one hand ventured further south, and the other moved his legs out from under him.
“Under you, sir.” He heard a distant voice say, but it didn’t sound like himself to himself, or perhaps, that was what he always thought when this happened, he never did remember much.
“Oh yes… under me…”
He vaguely could feel skin on skin, and other distant physical things, but the more he felt the more he burrowed into himself.
Maybe, just maybe, this time it would work.
***
No one knew exactly what they were doing on the seventh floor in front of the Tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach Trolls how to Ballet. And none of them knew why Professor Longbottom was pacing in front of an empty stretch of wall.
“Vic, you think he’s finally gone round the bend?” James; who was now carrying Albus (who was much smaller than him.) asked softly as he, Victoure and Rose followed Neville with their eyes.
“Sssh, I am shur zat it weel make sense zoon.” She whispered softly.
‘I need a place to help me find Scorpius Malfoy.’
‘I need a place to help me find Scorpius Malfoy.’
‘I need a place to help me find Scorpius Malfoy.’
When that didn’t work Neville wracked his brains until it came to him like a crack of thunder.
‘I need a place to hide Scorpius Malfoy.
I need a place to hide Scorpius Malfoy.
I need a place to hide Scorpius Malfoy.’
A sharp gasp came from the side. Neville spun around and noticed a door had suddenly sprung from the wall.
‘Oh Merlin, please, please, please…’ Was all he could think as he took out his wand and approached the door.
James set down Albus who was stirring rubbing his eyes, and looking around in confusion. He withdrew his wand as Victoure and Rose followed next to him. Albus grabbed his wand and followed them.
Neville smiled at them. “Stay back for a second. If I need any help I’ll…”
“Scream like a girl?”
“In a round about way, yes.” Neville smiled weakly as his hand came to rest on the door knob, he cast a muffling charm so that the hinges wouldn’t give him away. He opened it slowly; wand tip barely lit… and inside… once inside the sight that he met made his blood run as cold as ice.