Author: Anonymous
Recipient: honorarymaraudr
Title: Snatched
Pairing(s): Albus/Scorpius, some background older-gen canoodling, Hugo/OC
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy has always brought out the idiot in Albus Potter. For the past seven years they’ve dealt with this through a cunning application of denial. Now James Potter’s life is being threatened, and everything else is swept to one side as they try to beat the most literal deadline any of them have ever faced.
Rating: M, some violence, sexual situations
Warning(s):
Word Count: ~31,000
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Thanks to honorarymaraudr for such great prompts. There is indeed a billowing Sev tucked away in the background! I hope you enjoy. And for those wondering why the news is at nine rather than ten, it’s because in this glorious age of compulsory Muggle Studies, the Muggle news is one of their highest rated shows and needs to go out live. Many thanks to my lovely beta and the reading team, and to the mods, whose patience and kindness have been above and beyond the call.

SNATCHED

“Is that it?”

“Helleborus foetidus subspecies nevillii, Lily you’re a genius.”

Lily Potter carefully photographed the precious specimen, while her partner, Scorpius Malfoy, gently snipped a leaf and flower for preservation.

“Only the third native stand we’ve found in Britain,” she said, smiling. “I think Nev will be chuffed.”

“If he ever gets over Luna naming it after him,” Scorpius replied, grinning.

The on-again, off-again relationship between the senior Herbologists had been a source of amusement to the two friends for years. Since taking up their postgraduate apprenticeships, they had had more than ample opportunity to observe it firsthand.

“Race you back down the mountain?” Lily offered brightly.

“Oh no. Remember the last time you went down a mountain quickly with a camera?”

Lily poked out her tongue, and was about to embark on a short dissertation on insults suited to Malfoys when the Owl appeared. It landed on her backpack and held out one small, gnarled leg. Surprised, she untied the parchment attached.

“Probably Neville telling us we’re late,” she joked. Then, as she read the words, the smile fell from her face.

“What? We’ve lost our funding?” Scorpius joked.

Lily shook her head. “James has been taken hostage,” she stated baldly.

Without a care for the magical signatures of the specimens they had just collected, Scorpius grabbed Lily’s arm and Apparated them to her home.


****************************


”Good Evening.

“Our lead story tonight on Wizards’ Unwired Network News is the kidnapping of award-winning journalist James Potter.

“Potter, whose groundbreaking exposé of the international trade in protected herbs for this channel won a Golden Wand at last year’s Global Flooeys, was last seen by his cameraman this morning in Helsinki, Finland, where he was working on a story. Cameraman Isaac Gamp is with us now. Isaac, can you tell us what happened yesterday?”

“Thank you, Catherine. This morning at 8am, James Potter met with me over breakfast to discuss a meeting with a source that he had scheduled for 11am. We arranged a tracking spell for safety, as is normal in our industry, and a local Portkey that would bring James back to the hotel instantly in case of trouble.

“When he hadn’t returned by 2pm, the bureau was nervous, but James is a professional and had been out with sources for longer in the past. His tracking spell showed him less than an hour from the city. At 3pm we received an anonymous tip-off that James had been taken by extremists, at that time we realised that his tracking spell had been disabled. This intelligence was confirmed by local authorities at 6pm today with the discovery of James’s wand, Portkey and recording equipment, along with a ransom demand from a previously unknown group calling themselves the Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon.

“This so-called Volunteers Battalion is demanding the release of Marti Mannerheim, a notorious local criminal imprisoned after his conviction for the senseless murders of seven Muggles. Mannerheim has become a rallying-point for anti-Muggle sentiment in the Baltics, a movement which local authorities say is not being driven by Finns, but by international extremists using the relaxed northern state as a convenient base.

“Since the first demand there has been no further contact with the hostage takers. Finnish Aurors have been working non-stop in their search for leads, and assure us that they have every reason to believe that James is still alive and well. Here in Helsinki, all we can do is wait, and hope. Back to you, Catherine.”

“Thank you, Isaac. Here in London, Head Auror Harry Potter …”

“Albus? Here, drink this, it’s not your fault.”

Albus Potter looked up from his production monitor to find a cup of tea being thrust towards him. He took it, gratefully, and gulped down a mouthful, then screwed up his face. “Jesus, Hugo, how much sugar did you put into this?”

His cousin shrugged in that annoyingly youthful manner he still had and hefted himself onto Al’s mixing panel, partially blocking his view of the studio below. “Four, Rose says you should always feed loads of sugar to someone who might go into shock.”

“Right now I’m more at risk of diabetic coma, but thanks for the thought.”

“Heard anything from your dad?”

“Not for the last hour or so. He’s been in a meeting with the Minister since eight.”

“My dad says there’s lots of forensic evidence on James’s kit. He says the teams studying it have loads of new information already.”

Albus nodded. “Thanks Hugo, that’s good to know.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Albus smiled at the younger man. “Yeah, course he will.”

“They’re going to a break.”

“After the break, Charles Marron looks at Harry Potter’s annus horribilis, and asks what now for the Boy Who Lived Twice?”

Albus punched several buttons and pointedly ignored Catherine’s pleas for her hairstylist.

Hugo whistled. “You father is going to kill you.”

“He won’t get the chance,” Albus sighed. “Mum will have done it first, notice that none of them have mentioned her?”

“That’s not your fault, either.”

Albus and Hugo exchanged looks that spoke volumes. Ginny’s fury at her treatment by the media had been the reason behind their only real family disputes after her split from Harry. George’s career expansion into media mogul had never pleased her, and when her sons and nephew followed, she had been … less than pleased.

At the worst points, James had argued in favour of freedom of the press, while Albus and Hugo had both surreptitiously cut critical seconds from news reports covering the separation and divorce. Catherine Worthing had almost left the evening news when Albus threw to a commercial break in the middle of her opinion piece on Ginny the day it was announced she had left Harry.

Hugo was more junior, but his affable manner had been more effective. A few hundred repetitions of: “She’s done nothing wrong, and she’s a terrific aunt.” had worked where Albus’s glaring had failed.

Albus was grateful. He knew Hugo had really wanted to be an Unspeakable. He had, too. Partly for the cool name, mostly for the all-black uniform. Journalism was James’s dream. But summer jobs had been offered years ago, and natural talent combined with ridiculous salaries had won out.

“Coming back in thirty. You want me to cover and you go home? It’s all right, I can do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Al, he’s your brother.”

Albus nodded, relieved. “Thanks, Huge.”

Hugo grinned. “Just make sure you call me that in front of Catherine. And don’t mention it refers to my ego.”

He pushed Albus out of his producer’s chair and waved his wand over the controls as the two anchors welcomed back viewers. “Go home, Al,” he told his cousin. “Even I can’t fuck things up in eight minutes. Give my love to Uncle Harry, and to Lils. She should be home now.”

“I will,” Albus promised, and with that he Disapparated.


****************************


“Lily!” Ginny Weasley’s voice rang out across the garden. “Oh thank Merlin you’re here!” She ran from the house and enveloped her daughter in a bear hug.

“What happened?” Lily wailed, Ginny told the story in quick bursts, holding her daughter and brushing the dirt from her climbing gear.

Scorpius considered making his escape before he was noticed, but when truth was told, he was more afraid of Lily than her mother. Her mother who chose that moment to look up.

“Oh. Scorpius. How pleasant to see you.”

Lily glared. “Don’t start, Mum, not now. Scorpius Apparated me here in one fell swoop, so he’ll need a cup of tea. I want him to stay. We’ve been out collecting samples all day, and both need a shower and a good sit-down.”

Ginny patted her daughter’s arm. “I was being sincere. Come in, Scorpius, I’ll make you that tea. Lily can find you a towel and you can use the main bathroom while Lily showers in her ensuite, there’s enough hot water for both.”

“Cheers, Mrs P— W, Ms … oh bugger.”

Ginny actually smiled at that. “You’re my daughter’s best friend. Call me Ginny. Makes me feel less ancient.”

“Have you heard anything new, Mum?”

“Your father’s due home in a few minutes. Ron says they have loads of evidence and that the forensic team in London have most of it. The Finns and your father both say that we shouldn’t worry, that the people who have James are serious and political, so they will treat him well while they negotiate. Are those dirty clothes in those backpacks?”

“Mostly clean, and a stack of samples. Can we make a stasis area in the kitchen for the ones that are still good?”

“Of course. Come on, Scorpius, you are welcome here.”

He followed them in. He had always been welcomed here, but never entirely certain that he was wholly welcome. Harry had been thrilled when first Albus and then Lily had adopted him at school, but Mrs … Ginny had always treated him with a degree of reserve. His father had explained about it being another artefact of his grandfather’s abortive politicking, but there had always been another layer to it.

Since the Potters had split, Scorpius had been able to put his finger on it. While she had never really minded his friendship with her children, she intensely disliked his father’s friendship with her husband.

“Dump your things in Lil’s room. Do you have something to put on, or would you like to borrow something of Al’s? He still has half a wardrobe here.”

“No thanks, I have a few changes. We packed clean before we headed out yesterday.”

Ginny sat on Lily’s bed while Scorpius tried to find a tidy part of the room to leave his pack. “Don’t give him your pony towel, Lil, one of the nice ones.”

“Mum!” Lily threw a green bath-sheet across the room to her friend. “As though I’d give him the pony towel!”

Scorpius nearly smiled. It was like travelling back in time more than ten years to his first visit to this house. Instead he grabbed a change of clothes from his pack. “I’ll be quick, and I can make the tea, give you two some family time.”

Ginny smiled again at that. “Thanks, Scorp. You’re a good boy.”

He shut the door behind him and walked down to the main bathroom. They were both holding up well, given the circumstances. That boded well. Harry Potter was one of the more pragmatic adults he knew, if he felt confident that James was well, then there was every probability he was.

Scorpius’s feet took their usual detour towards the cobalt blue door that marked Albus’s room, and, as he had for the last seven years, he redirected them away. It was stupid, really, he and Albus had been not-best-friends for longer than they had lived in each other’s pockets. The bathroom was down the hall, right turn, second door on the left.

They had bought a new towel rack since he had last visited. Or, more likely, Ginny had taken the old brass model with her when she left. This was a flash modern version that seemed a little anachronistic among the Edwardian tiles and taps, but Scorpius felt the warming charms as he draped his towel over it, and smiled to himself.

Definitely a Harry purchase. He had never met another adult with as much love for home comforts as Mr Potter had.

He locked the door and slipped out of his filthy clothes, turned on the hot water in the shower, and did a careful check for new cuts and bruises before taking off his glasses and popping them carefully on the vanity. It wasn’t that he and Lil weren’t careful, but their job took them up mountains, down crevasses, and even caving. Taking a battering was not uncommon. It wasn’t bad today, though, just one new bruise from where he had let the rope smack against his thigh while he was belaying Lily.

The hot water was welcome. It had been a long Apparition, on top of a long day’s climbing and gathering. As Scorpius squinted at the bottles arrayed on the ledge he found one of shampoo, and applied a liberal dose. He had just lathered up his hair when he remembered.

“Bugger!”

Scorpius rushed the rest of his shower and dived into his towel. He pulled the tiny phone from the pocket of his dirty trousers and tapped it with his wand. A miniature Luna Lovegood looked at him.

“Hello, Scorpius,” she said, smiling. “You’re not up a mountain, are you?”

Scorpius moved his towel up a little, and cursed his lack of foresight. “No, at the Potters, there’s a bit of a crisis, James has been taken hostage and Lily and I came straight here.”

“Of course, is everyone all right?”

“James is still missing, but Harry has told everyone that he thinks he will be safe. I have a load of samples; can you come by and pick them up in the next few days?”

“We’ll be there tonight,” Luna promised. “Give us a few hours. Take care of Lily, and give our love to Ginny and Harry – and Al, of course.”

“Of course,” Scorpius muttered as Luna’s image disappeared.

Scorpius dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen to begin making tea. Everything was stored where it had always been. The tea brand was slightly more expensive than the old family brand they had drunk when he visited on school hols, and there were actually chocolate biscuits in the tin now that Lily no longer lived at home.

He had a pot brewing on the table and a plate of biscuits arranged when the kitchen door opened.

“Mr Potter …”

He was wrapped up in a hug. “Harry, Scorpius. It’s good to see you here. Sorry about the circumstances.”

Scorpius felt twelve again, and, for a moment, absurdly happy. The summer that his parents had divorced had been spent with the Potters, and it had been perfect. They had sung songs around the piano, gone mushrooming, he and Al had been allowed to spend a week in a tent in the back garden, with Harry popping by nightly to shake his head at them. When he had cried, Mr Potter had given him a hug, and a Chocolate Frog, and told him it would all be fine. And it had been.

He wished he could give Harry a Chocolate Frog now. “Are you all right?” he asked, stepping back and taking in the older man’s shadowed eyes.

“Worried. Stressed. But I have every reason to believe that James is well and will be treated reasonably by his captors.”

Scorpius nodded at him. “Is he really being held by Finns?”

“As far as we can tell. And they’re famously polite.” Harry gave one of his interview grins, as Lily had termed them.

Scorpius poured him a cup of tea, one sugar, lemon. “He’s their leverage. They’ll treat him well while they’re negotiating,” he surmised.

“They will.” Harry nodded. “Where’s Lils?”

“With Ginny, she was headed for the shower last I saw her. We were on top of a mountain when the Owl found us.”

Harry’s grin was real this time. “You two go to the most astonishing places. Still enjoying it?”

“Oh yes. It’s the best job I could have imagined.”

“That’s good to hear. You two would go mad sitting in an office.”

“We would. Biscuit?”

Harry shook his head. “I should go and find Ginny and Lil, let them know I’m back. Can you stay for a few days? Lil will want you around.”

Scorpius nodded. “Luna and Neville will be here tonight, too,” he said, remembering.

“You can bunk in with Lil, then. She still has the trundle bed under hers.”

“Would you like me to start on dinner? I’m not flash, but I can put a decent stew together, or some pasta. I’d like to be useful, leave the family for family things.”

Harry patted his shoulder. “That would be great. It really is good to see you here.”

“Good to be here,” he answered softly as Harry left the room. There had been years when this room had felt far more like home than the manor ever had. If nothing else, he would be able to repay a few favours.

Scorpius had browned the beef and onions and was halfway through chopping sundry veg when Albus arrived. A chicken followed him in through the kitchen door, and so Scorpius had a full thirty seconds of Al and poultry flapping about to compose himself before his old friend looked up.

And dropped his briefcase. On his foot.

Albus tried to pretend it hadn’t happened, and was more successful at that than at hiding the surprise on his face. “You must have brought Lily,” he blurted out after what looked to be a slight struggle.

“I did. And now I am cooking dinner for all of you, because your house is about to become crazy. How are you?”

Albus pushed his tangled hair back and down with one hand while making a vaguely airy gesture with the other. “Good, fine, not too worried, happens all the time in this industry. You’re looking well. I should put the chickens away, shouldn’t I? Dad’s forgotten.”

Scorpius nodded. “Put the chickens away. I’ll make a fresh pot of tea, everyone’s forgotten about this one.”

Albus walked outside in a nonchalant fashion, which would have been convincing if Scorpius had not been able to hear him sigh with relief as he closed the door.

He felt like sighing, too, but decided to smile instead. Ill-behaved chickens had been a staple of the Potter household for as long as he had been coming here. Mr Potter had called them a connection to the land, Mrs Potter had called them evil pecking egg producers. Once, he and Albus had opened the crockery cupboard to find a chicken nestled on top of the dinner plates.

The stew was on and a fresh pot of tea brewed, with cups poured and on a tray for delivery before Albus came back in. “Yours is on the table,” Scorpius told him. “I was just taking these in for your parents and sister, but there’s room on the tray for yours if you’d rather go.”

Albus looked almost grateful. “I should let them know I’m here,” he replied, adding his cup and saucer to the tray and taking it from Scorpius.

Scorpius watched him leave the room again. Two interactions and a few dozen words before fleeing. Clearly one of those weeks, then. Before he could work up a proper grump his phone beeped. Scorpius tapped it with his wand, and a tiny version of his father appeared.

“You’re at the Potters’,” Draco Malfoy looked around approvingly.

“Yes Dad. I Apparated Lily straight here when we heard the news. About half an hour ago, now.”

“How are they holding up?”

“As well as can be expected. Are you working on the case?”

His father nodded. “I’m running the forensics.”

“That’s good.” And it was. His father had pioneered much of the science that underpinned the new field of Wizarding forensics, creating reagents that could react to spells and even certain witches and wizards, once they were on record at the Ministry.

“Will you be coming home?” Draco’s voice was quite level, but Scorpius knew what he hoped for, and was sorry to disappoint.

“Not tonight. I’ll try and come by tomorrow.”

Draco nodded. “Come into the Ministry with Harry in the morning. I have some plant samples that you could take a look at. I think an expert would be able to come up with a closer identification than I can manage. Bring Lily if you like.”

Scorpius smiled. Compliments from his father were to be treasured. “I will,” he replied.

“Make sure everyone eats dinner,” Draco reminded him. “They’ll all be a bit out of their minds, but James will be fine.”

“Yes, yes I’m sure he will.”

“Good night, then.”

“Good night, Dad. Good to see you.”

“You too.” Draco smiled and flickered out.

Scorpius stirred the stew. He heard the front door pushed open with a call of names at the other end of the house and realised that the Weasleys had started to arrive. Flicking his wand with the practiced ease of a bachelor, he sent the kettle off to refill.

~~~~

They ended up extending the dining room table twice. All the Weasley brothers save Charlie appeared, with wives in tow. Hugo and Rose rushed in as soon as they were able to get away from work. Mr and Mrs Weasley sat bravely in one corner, Scorpius surreptitiously poured whisky into Mr Weasley’s tea after he noticed the old man’s hand beginning to shake. He was rewarded with a smile of gratitude.

Neville and Luna arrived as everyone was sitting down to eat, and promptly offered their services. Luna’s two years living in the Baltics had given her excellent language skills, which she was happy to put to good use. Charlie Weasley was said to be flying not-quite-approved runs over the thousands of small islands that littered Finland, with plans to expand into the sparsely populated north.

It was a good hour before anyone sought to apportion blame.

“If you’d just stuck to the joke shop, George, but no, you and Lee had to revolutionise communications in the Wizarding world,” Ginny’s voice was low, but bitter. “James wanted to be an Auror when he was a boy. He’d never dreamed of journalism.”

“Ginny,” Harry’s voice was tired.

“No, it’s all right.” George turned his chair around to face his sister. “From the minute he saw what we were doing when Lee and I built the Network, James knew what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to be an Auror because he is a crusader, Gin. The best place for him is in the press, he can make genuine changes in the media, not just deal with small cases one at a time.”

“He can’t do anything while he’s held prisoner!”

Albus spoke over his mother and uncle as they both raised their voices. “He wanted to go!” he shouted. Everyone turned to him, and he continued more quietly. “I did the research for this story, and I could have given it to anyone, but he wanted to go. He always wants to go. It’s what he loves doing. Journalists get taken hostage sometimes. They get released most of the time. He … he wanted to be there.”

Scorpius, Neville and Luna crept from the living room towards the kitchen, leaving the debate to the family. Penelope, Fleur and Angelina joined them a few minutes later. Angelina took over the kitchen duties, making tea and cutting cake for the group that sat around the kitchen table.

“He will be all right,” Luna assured them. “The Finns are very organised.”

“Do you think George will be all right?” Angelina asked grimly. “I feel as though we’ve abandoned him.”

“Al seemed determined to stop Ginny killing him,” Neville suggested.

Angelina nodded. “I suppose she’s less likely to strangle him than she is George. Still, I bet he’s glad you’re here.” She smiled brightly at Scorpius.

All these years and they still forgot.

“Percy blames himself,” Penelope said, mournfully. “He wishes he’d never invented the bloody Unwired.”

Angelina and Luna both clustered around the teary-eyed woman. Percy’s year of bonding with Arthur after the war had unexpectedly led to a multi-million Galleon venture developing Wizarding versions of Muggle technology. It had meant that neither man had ever needed to return to the Ministry, which Percy rejoiced in, though Arthur had never ceased taking Kingsley’s calls.

The sudden shift in technology had replaced the War as the marker between one age and another. Arthur still referred to their inventions by their original names, the Unwired had first appeared as the Homoprojector, and wished for them to go back to their original status as curiosities. But a generation steeped in Muggle studies had seen the phone, Network and Unwired become pervasive years ago.

“It’s not anyone’s fault,” Neville muttered.

Lily and Rose came dashing in from the hallway and shut the door tightly behind them. “It’s getting ugly out there,” Lily said. “I told them I had to check the samples.”

“Hey Scorp!” Rose grinned at the face he pulled. She knew he had always hated the nickname. “You picked a hell of a time to return to the scene of the crime.”

Conversation ceased and all the older faces turned in their direction.

“Figure of speech,” Scorpius assured hastily. He turned back to Rose. “I brought Lily back, and it seemed sensible to stay.”

“I’m glad you did.” Rose patted his hand. “We need a sane head around here. The more members of the family you get together, the lower our average IQ.”

There was buzzing in Scorpius’s pocket. He pulled out his phone apologetically. “Sorry.” He stepped outside and tapped it with his wand. “Dad? What’s up?”

His father’s face was pinched. “Is Potter there?” he asked urgently. “His phone is off. So’s Weasley’s. We have news.”

“Hold on.” Scorpius ran back through the kitchen, down the hall and to the dining room where the clan was still gathered. He stopped at the door; George and Ginny were standing and yelling at each other now. Harry glanced up at the movement in the doorway, and came outside when Scorpius held up the phone.

“Dad. For you,” he whispered.

Harry walked down the hallway, muttering quietly with the projection of Draco Malfoy. Scorpius hovered beside the doorway, unwilling to intrude on the conversation. Albus slipped out of the room, where at least four people were now shouting, and joined Scorpius.

“Is there news?” he asked.

Scorpius nodded slightly. “My father, for yours. I don’t know anything yet, they’ve just begun talking.”

Albus nodded grimly and pulled a hipflask from his pocket.

Scorpius stared. “You don’t drink.”

Albus took a long swig, then coughed quietly as he tried to swallow it. “I’m taking it up.”

“I’m not sure your body is,” Scorpius couldn’t help commenting.

“Give it time; I only stole Uncle Ron’s flask an hour ago,” Albus replied with a rueful smile.

Harry came striding back up the hall. “Inside, boys, Albus, you’re about to get a call.” He turned and called down the hallway. “Lily, bring everyone, there’s news.”

His son was already tapping his phone, the figure of Catherine Worthing appeared, with hands reaching into the frame to add blusher and eyeliner.

“We need to run a newsflash, we’ve just received a file from the Finnish Aurors, it’s a ransom demand, they want it made public.”

“Run it. Run the file in full, no commentary, just an intro. Plain closing. No editorialising until we know how they want us to play it.” Albus’s voice was crisp and firm.

“Not even to question what the Ministries are up to?” Catherine’s wheedled ever so slightly.

“Nothing! Keep it plain. This is James.”

Catherine’s chin tilted up. “Of course. We’re ready to roll.”

“Go. Tell Peter to keep the camera angle on you still, you want to look serious.”

“Cheers, boss.”

Albus snapped his phone shut, cutting off the transmission. He sagged back against the wall, and stayed there as the others rushed past.

One of Scorpius’s hands reached out towards him before he thought to stop it. He turned it into a rather ungainly stretch instead.

“Should we go in?” he asked. “Watch the broadcast?”

For a moment he was certain Albus was going to say no. Then the young Potter turned and walked into the dining room.

Like most established Wizarding families, the Potters’ Unwired Network was installed in the same chimneys as their Floo. Harry flicked it on and called for quiet at the same time. “There’s a ransom,” he announced.

The woman Scorpius had just seen in miniature appeared in full colour glory in the hearth. She announced that a file had been transmitted from an Unplottable point in the Arctic Circle, and that viewers should be aware that James Potter was speaking under duress.

And then he was there, looking dishevelled but otherwise fine. Slight lines of tension around his mouth were the only indication that things were not all well.

“It’s the fourth of June and I am in an undisclosed location. I’m being held by members of the Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon, who have a list of simple demands that they require to be met before I am released. The first of these is the most crucial, they demand a Muggle-free homeland in a state that does not have an extradition arrangement with the European Wizarding Union. They require no less than one-hundred square miles of habitable territory, consisting of either a single land mass or adjacent islands.

“The second demand is for a sum of fifty thousand Galleons to be delivered to a point that will be announced later.

“The third demand is for the immediate release of Marti Mannerheim.

“My captors recognise that these are not simple requests and will make themselves available for some small negotiations. However, they require in-principle agreement to each of these demands by dawn tomorrow; here that will be 3:12am.

“If this agreement is not given, I will be executed. If all demands are not met by midnight GMT on June seventh, I will be executed.

“My captors have given me every reason to believe that they are serious. The location where I am being held is heavily guarded and I have several wizards around me ready to deliver a Killing Curse at all times.

“Aside from the imminent threat of doom, I have been well treated by my captors.”

James flickered out suddenly and Catherine reappeared in the air.

“The transmission ended at that point, at this time we have not heard from either the authorities nor the Potter family as to whether the demands will be met. Excuse me for one moment …”

Catherine pressed her earpiece and listened intently. Scorpius became aware of a muttering behind him, it was George Weasley.

“This station’s owners have just pledged to pay the sum of fifty thousand Galleons. Now all that remains is to see how far the nations involved are prepared to negotiate for the return of this favourite son. We now return you to your scheduled viewing, but rest assured that we will update with information as soon as it becomes available to us.”

“Oh Mum!” Ginny wailed, throwing herself into Mrs Weasley’s embrace.

Mr Weasley left his chair to shake George’s hand. Harry was already on his phone to Draco, barking orders as he rushed from the room. Scorpius found Lily under his arm, and held her tight. He looked up at Albus, standing in the middle of the room, and looking as lost as he had ever seen him.

“Clever!” Ron was hugging Hermione. “He’s given us his latitude. That sunrise is fifty minutes before Helsinki, they can narrow the search hugely.”

Some of the woe seemed to lift from Albus then. “Do you think they’ll release Mannerheim?”

“No,” Hermione answered seriously. “But we can negotiate in good faith regarding the land and money; there’s more than enough wealth in this family to buy James’s safety on those demands. And the Finns will hold out the promise of Mannerheim for as long as they can.”

“I don’t feel he’s their focus,” Albus muttered.

Hermione looked at him. “I agree. I had the distinct sense he was third for a reason. That’s good.”

Lily patted Scorpius’s arm. “I’m okay, you can let go now.”

Scorpius looked down at her and smiled. “Sorry, Lils.”

She looked over to where his attention had been occupied. “Talk to him!” she urged, and pushed him in the direction of her brother.

Albus looked up at him hopefully as he stumbled across the room. “Um …” Scorpius managed, eloquently. “My dad tells me they have some plant material that he thinks will help identify the hostage takers.”

“Is that public knowledge?” Albus asked, news hat on.

“I don’t think so, but you could say that there was a great deal of material being investigated, that would be safe enough.”

“I don’t want to risk anything. He’s my brother.”

Scorpius held his tongue. James was more than that. As the ticker across the bottom of the drama screening on the unheeded Unwired had it, “Wizarding’s Favourite Son” was missing.

“Both our fathers are working on this. I don’t think they’ve ever failed on a case like this, they’re not about to start.” It was the strongest comfort he could think of.

“Dad won’t let anything happen to James,” Albus agreed.

“He wouldn’t let anything happen to any of you,” Scorpius corrected.

Albus’s eyes were bare for a second, then he nodded, and went to talk to an uncle.

“You did well.” Lily was back at Scorpius’s elbow.

He snorted, and she patted his back. “My brother is a banana, but you still did well. Ooh, Dad’s back.”

Harry was pulling on his coat as he walked in the door. “I’m going back in. Bill, could you come along? Malfoy’s pulled some identifying data from the transmission that he wants you to check, and he also has some unusual fibres from James’s recording gear. Kingsley’s organised a meeting with the Finnish Minister and Chief Auror. I’ll be back, but not till very late.”

“Harry …”

“Ginny, I swear that’s all I know at the moment, but the minute I have anything else, I’ll call you. And Malfoy will call Scorpius if he has news.”

She nodded acceptance. “Good luck.”

“D’you need a hand?” Ron offered.

They glanced at Hermione, who smiled. “Go, do Auror things. There’s something I feel I’m missing in that message, but I can think about it here. I’ll help with the tidying up. Rose and Hugo can make sure I get my doddering carcass to bed while you’re off being manly.”

Ron kissed her head fondly.

They went. Hermione, Rose, Fleur and Angelina took care of the cleaning up, while Penelope and Molly sat with Ginny.

Lily and Scorpius arranged the bedding. “Luna and Neville can have the guest bedroom, Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur can have the playroom. Mum will probably want to stay over, she can have the study.”

Scorpius noticed that neither of them were suggesting anyone sleep in James’s room. They were most of the way through transfiguring daybeds into doubles and supplying blankets and fluffy pillows when Albus joined them. He carried sheets and tucked in hospital corners obligingly, helping them make quick work of the job.

It was almost like old times.

“We’re full to the gunnels,” Albus observed as they dropped some fresh towels on the end of the last bed. “Are you staying, too?”

Scorpius nodded. “Your dad asked me to.”

“You may as well sleep in my room, I’ve still got the old bunks, believe it or not.”

Was it really going to be that easy? “Um …” he began.

Albus blinked. “Oh, of course you’re bunking in with Lily, yes, obviously … um… right. Good night.”

Scorpius watched as Albus walked quickly down the hallway to his room. He turned to Lily. “He has no idea, does he?”

“My brother is very smart, but he can be spectacularly obtuse.”

A frown crossed Scorpius’s forehead. “But your father knows, doesn’t he?”

She patted his shoulder “Of course he does, or there’s no way on Earth you’d be sleeping in my room.”

“So what does Al think we fought about in sixth year?”

Lily smiled one of her womanly smiles of infinite wisdom. “He has told himself that you just grew apart once you started hanging around with me.”

Scorpius stared at her in disbelief.

She laughed. “I know, I even had first years asking whether the two of you were going to get together or kill each other. But we don’t call him Captain Oblivious for nothing, you know.”

“Just … he… I …”

Lily patted Scorpius’s shoulder. “I know, I was there. But when my brother finds something too hard to handle, he rewrites it so that it is bearable for him. Deciding you just grew apart hurts less than him admitting how much he bollocksed things up.”

“He… !”

“Scorp, I know.”


****************************


Albus was still mentally slapping himself when he woke at four the next morning. His father had let him sleep through, that was a good sign; the first deadline must have been managed. He flipped on his phone. Eight messages.

Bleary-eyed, he watched as night-shift journalists and another producer gave their updates. The Finnish Ministry had said they were prepared to discuss the release of Mannerheim under certain conditions. The hostage takers had sent a message that they were satisfied, but nothing further.

Other European authorities had offered Auror assistance, and the Americans had offered one of their Pacific acquisitions as a possible territory. There was a crowd gathered in vigil at the front of the station’s offices.

Albus hoped they were inside the main gates; that sort of thing could be difficult to explain to the average Wapping Muggle.

“You may as well sleep in my room … Idiot!” Seven years later and those bespectacled grey eyes could still reduce him to gibbering. And yet, for a moment, it had looked as though he was going to agree to the idea.

Albus stuffed his head under his pillow. And what would have happened then? Scorpius take the top bunk and they chatter through the night as though they were back at school in the Slytherin dormitory? Yes, that sounded likely.

He couldn’t even look at him without seeing that straight nose broken, a purple bruise blossoming around one swelling eye and a scratch leading up his pale forehead to where a pair of glasses were tangled in soft light hair. A good moment, Albus. Well done.

Al pressed the pillow against his face and groaned deeply. With that moment of self-pity done, he swung himself out of bed and into the shower.

He had very nearly pushed himself back into a normal morning frame of mind by the time he was doing up the cufflinks of one of the Muggle shirts he kept here, and could see sanity arriving with a cup of coffee, or decent tea if Dad had no fresh beans.

It was a plan that could have worked, were it not for Scorpius being in the kitchen.

“What are you … Sorry, good morning.” Albus wondered if hexing himself was overdramatic.

“Good morning.” Scorpius poured him a cup of coffee from the Bialetti that had just finished gurgling on the stovetop. He poured himself one, too, and offered Albus one of the pieces of toast from his plate.

Albus took it silently.

“I’m used to being up before dawn,” Scorpius told him. “A good coffee is the only thing between me and blithering. I suspected you’d be going in early today, so I put a bit extra on.”

“Thank you.” Albus lowered his head over his cup.

“Your dad got in quarter of an hour ago. He said things were going well. He’ll call you when he’s had a few hours of sleep.”

Albus nodded. He wondered if he or Scorpius would receive the fullest version of that morning’s news. Since he had gone to work for George, his father had kept information back from him. When the news had first come through yesterday, he had assembled all of his story briefing notes for his father, talked him through everything he knew about James’s assignment and, with their permission, put him in touch with the two sources who had alerted him to the wave of young Finns using addictive potions. They had both checked out, as had their story. He learned this from his sources in the Finnish Ministry, not from his father.

Scorpius was peering mildly at him.

“I’m fine,” Albus snapped, lying.

“Yes, I can see that.”

“Thanks for the coffee, I’m off. The news doesn’t write itself.”

“Albus …” The voice was soft, but enough to stop him in his tracks. “He’ll be all right.”

He turned to look at Scorpius. “So everyone tells me.” And then he had to bustle out the door and through the wards so he could Apparate away, in preference to embarrassing himself hopelessly.

It took Al about five minutes at work to realise that he had been wrong. Some days the news does write itself, and this was one of them. George and Lee had rescheduled the day’s programming for hourly bulletins, a five minute break at the top of each hour. The first minute was taken up with a simple recap of the events to hand, but the remaining four needed to be filled and there were no shortages of public figures, attractive women, championed causes and rescued puppies willing to speak of the immense difference James Potter had made to the lives of people in Wizarding Britain.

Hugo arrived a little after seven, which was something of a miracle. Albus didn’t think he’d ever seen his cousin conscious before eight-thirty, his last-minute school breakfasts had been the stuff of Hogwarts legend. He joined Al at the controller’s desk and watched the end of the bulletin. As Al threw the transmission to the morning chat show, Hugo looked at him thoughtfully.

“I should get kidnapped,” he announced.

“And you say this because …”

“The last time I saw that girl, she was shrieking that James was a man-whore who she’d like to Crucio, if only she could guarantee an all-female Wizengamot so she could get off. Now, not only is she saying nice things about him, but you can tell she’s thinking naughty ones.”

Albus laughed. “Great. When he comes back he’ll be even more insufferable than ever.”

“Wizarding’s favourite son, Al, and don’t you forget it.”

“As if I could.”

“Now Albus, no bitterness. The fact that James has found the one way possible to make himself more popular should not hurt us. We must rise above. You’re still the smart one.”

“Hugo?”

“Yes?”

“Do you like being employed?”

“Uncle George will kill you if you sack me.”

Al smiled ruefully, it was all too true. “Do you want to look at the files for the nine o’clock bulletin? Make yourself a little useful.”

“Sure, who do you have praising your sainted brother next?”

“Professor Sinistra and the Ottery St Catchpole Magical Beasts Home.”

Hugo laughed out loud at that.

“Though I’ve had Professor McGonagall on the phone twice this morning, she wants to argue the opposite case on the grounds of fairness and see if we can convince the Finns to keep James a little longer.”

“I have always loved her,” Hugo averred.

“All right-thinking people do. Here you go,” Al threw him a vial of Unwired files. “Take editing suite three.”

“Cheers,” Hugo caught them and was on his way out when he paused at the door. “So. Scorpius …”

“Go.”

“I’m gone.”

Albus shook his head. Hugo had been with Lily when she had come across him and a bloodied Scorpius panting in a hallway. She had stayed with Malfoy, Hugo had come running after him. That had more or less been the pattern ever since.

Albus pushed down the familiar wave of nausea that accompanied this memory every time. He’d been to see someone about it a few years ago. She’d been very nice, taught him breathing exercises, given him a potion.

“You need to have a good memory that you can replace the bad one with,” she’d told him. “Think of your best moment.”

And she’d been expecting him to suggest winning one of his three Flooeys, or perhaps the brief but well-publicised romance he’d had with that Italian Quidditch star. But in fact, his happiest memory had been of another black eye on Scorpius Malfoy’s face. And he had had a matching one, and the two of them were up a tree, panting with laughter, having outrun the older Slytherin boys who had ambushed them after breakfast, declaring that Malfoys were traitors and Potters were spies.

That had been the start of their friendship, on the second day of school.

Albus pulled out his phone and tapped it briskly. “Kingsley Shacklebolt,” he snapped. “Or his secretary.”

~~~~

His father showed up in person this time. This was new, thought Albus. The last two remonstrances had been sent by memorandum.

“You can’t screen it,” Harry told him, walking into his office without announcement.

“It’s news, Dad.”

“It suggests we don’t have full agreement from the Finns on the Mannerheim situation.”

“We don’t.”

Harry sighed. “No. We don’t. But that’s not for broadcasting. It will put James at risk.”

Albus stood up and looked at his father, who was looking patiently back at him. “I know that, Dad. That’s why I’ve already cut that whole section from the interview. Do you really think that Uncle Kingsley would be that honest with me if he couldn’t rely on my discretion?”

“Yes,” Harry answered frankly. “You’re that good.”

“And that’s good as in talented, not good as in morally reliable.”

“Albus …”

“Now’s not a great time for this. I’ve cut the file, I won’t broadcast it until James is back. Your work is done. Don’t you have a huge international case to get back to?”

“I came by to see how you were.”

“Oh.” Albus sat on the edge of his desk. “Right. Well, busy, worried, hopeful. Similar to you, I suppose.”

“Scorpius mentioned he thought you might be blaming yourself,” Harry began.

“And he’d know, because we’ve been so close lately,” Albus snapped.

“He knows you. Even if he doesn’t particularly like you these days.”

Albus felt as though he had been slapped.

Harry raised his hands apologetically. “He didn’t say that, I’m just guessing from the fact that the two of you can’t stand to be in the same room for more than a minute.”

Albus wanted to tell his father to go to hell, but speaking was something of an issue.

“Oh fuck it,” Harry stood up and walked over to his son and hugged him. “Al, I’m sorry. That was an awful thing to say. I’m tired and foul-tempered and a fairly appalling human being at this point.”

“It’s okay.”

His father looked at him with eyes full of concern. “You just make me a bit crazy, as I’m sure I do you.”

Al couldn’t hold back a half-smile. “It’s because we’re alike.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“You have deep-seated issues,” Al informed him.

“Mostly to do with my many failures as a parent,” Harry agreed.

“As well you might.”

“It’s really not your fault.

Albus shook his head. “I sent him there, Dad.”

“Has James ever done anything he didn’t want to do?”

“Has James ever been able to resist anything that made him look good? I bundled the story up for him in an award-winning package, and gave him a hot Finnish interpreter to boot. It is my fault.”

Harry rubbed Albus’s shoulder. It was comforting, like being a boy again. Suddenly Albus pulled away, at the exact moment his father’s hand dropped.

“The interpreter,” they said together.

Albus pointed his wand at his phone and then at his father’s. “Number, image and voice print. She works with the Finnish bureau, you may be able to get the Aurors there before she works out we’re onto her.”

Harry hugged him. “Good work. I’ll see you soon.”

Albus watched him go. Sometimes he wished that he was James or Lily, who had such easy relationships with their parents. He had always been the closest to his father, which was not the same as being the favourite. Not at all.


****************************


As a boy, Scorpius had loved going into the Ministry with his father. Draco Malfoy’s appointment to the Department of Mysteries had marked a turning point in his childhood. Before had been constant travel and new people; after had been stability and real friends.

His father’s office had been full of wonderful books, and his laboratory had been a magical place. As an adult, he found it even more so, because now all of those instruments made sense to him on multiple levels.

“Look at you,” Lily teased him. “Happy as a pig in mud. Ooh! Spectrascope!”

“And you don’t like it here at all.”

She grinned.

Draco swept out of his office with a minion in tow. “And make sure that Weasley gets that report in the next five minutes.”

“Yes sir,” the minion all but saluted and walked off quickly.

“Hello you two,” Draco greeted them. “Come to help me with my identification?”

“If we can,” Lily replied.

“Good. Potter believes they’re holding James somewhere round the 65th parallel, most likely still in Finland, but possibly in Norway, Sweden or Western Russia. It’s not likely to be Iceland or Canada, or James would have made an issue of the time change, but we can’t rule them out, his captors may not be feeding him all the information they could. And as long as they have not moved into a later time zone, they wouldn’t be jeopardising him.”

He walked them over to a microscope. “These are two of the plant samples we retrieved from his equipment. They could be from the hostage takers, they could be from him, they could be from a passing goat. I’m hoping you have more luck with them than I did.”

“We’ll try, Dad.”

“Good lad.” Draco turned his attention to Lily. “How are you holding up, Red?”

She grinned, as always, at the pet name. “You and Dad, Aunt Hermione and Uncles Ron, Bill and Charlie are on the case. Add me and Blondie, and the bad guys should quake in fear.”

“That’s the spirit.” Draco patted her hair.

“Dad, don’t patronise my colleague.”

“I remember when you used to complain because she stole your broom and called you Sourpius.”

Lily wrinkled her nose. “I was ten.”

“And you gave the broom straight back,” Scorpius added in fairness.

Scorpius looked at the main plant sample beside microscope. It was a section of triangular stem, with the start of an inflorescence at the top, of which only the bract remained intact. “Looks like a sedge,” he muttered.

“Yes, I did manage to get that far.” His father’s voice was amused, as usual.

Scorpius looked through the microscope to the slide prepared there. He flicked the filter to pick up magical traces, found none. Switched it to a DNA reading, and paused. “Lily, have a look at this ...”

She peered through the lenses. “It looks like something from an aapa mire ...”

“I agree,” Scorpius muttered, flicking on his Network. Like most Muggles, he and his father had access built into the lenses of their glasses, though Draco Malfoy’s glasses were of the high-fashioned sun-protection variety. Scorpius suppressed a smile as he saw his father pull them out of his pocket.

“Give me a while,” Scorpius said. “I think I can match that on one of our databases. I’ll project it if I find it.”

He flickered through images for some twenty minutes, before pausing on one and then moving carefully to the next.

“I think this is it,” Scorpius announced, and tapped a project command with his wand. “Carex canescens x lapponica, native to northern Finland. What do you think, Dad, Lils?”

The other two scientists walked around the projected image. After fifteen minutes of close study, Lily hummed agreement. “All the base pairs are lining up, and the cellular composition seems identical. Good call. This narrows down our search area hugely, basically we’re down to the lower part of northern Finland. You’ll find the plant in Lapland, but the latitude is too high for the time match. May I?”

She held out a hand to Draco Malfoy, who handed her his sunglasses. With a tap of her wand she projected a map of northern Europe, then zoomed in onto the area under discussion. “My best guess is somewhere around Bothnian Bay. That’s where you’ll find the main distribution of this sedge, with the right latitude and a good geography for hiding.”

Draco took his glasses back, and ended the connection. “Good work, Lily, let’s go and tell your father.”

Scorpius was not surprised when Draco led them to the MLE tearoom rather than Harry Potter’s office. In thirteen years he had seen Harry innumerable times at the Ministry, but only twice in his office. Ron and Hermione were there with him, and Scorpius could hear Harry talking about Albus as he approached.

“And he never lets me know, I only found out because Kingsley rang me.” Draco stopped them all in the doorway so that Harry could finish. “I was never that pigheaded, was I?”

Hermione held her tongue, but Ron erupted into peals of unsupportive laughter. After a moment he managed to rein himself in. “But, of course, you were being haunted by Voldemort and were being looked to by everyone to save the Wizarding world, so you had an excuse.”

Scorpius was not surprised when Harry punched his oldest friend in the arm. Draco coughed genteelly from the door.

Three sets of eyes turned to them. “We have good news,” Draco announced. “Your daughter and my son are brilliant. Show them, Lily.”

She walked over to the Unwired port on the tearoom wall and repeated her earlier demonstration. “It’s not great,” she apologised. “There’s still a huge area to cover, but it’s at least one country and one region.”

Harry hugged her. “Brilliant work, Lily.”

“Scorpius identified the plant,” she reminded him.

“Brilliant work, Scorpius,” Hermione grinned at him.

“Are they …” he began, and then stopped. He had never been able to get over being rather shy around the Deputy Minister.

“Go on, are they what?”

“Are they really going to release Mannerheim?”

Hermione shook her head. “He’s a multi-murderer and quite mad. It would be dangerous, even if it wasn’t wholly unethical.”

“Then all you can really offer them is the money.”

She shook her head again. “I’ve been in negotiations all morning. We have a number of possible territories that we can offer them, too. If they’re serious about a Muggle-free homeland, they’ll give up Mannerheim in favour of the land.”

She pulled out a chair, and Scorpius sat beside her, grateful for the cup of tea Ron passed to him, breakfast was hours ago now. “How will you know if they’re serious?” he asked.

“It depends what type of terrorists they are.”

Lily snorted. “Terrorists are terrorists. Just because they call themselves a battalion, it doesn’t suddenly make them official.”

“That’s not true,” her father chided gently. “Your aunt is making a valid point. Are they more like the terrorists who led to the formation of Israel, or modern South Africa, or are they more like al Qaeda and the Red Brigades?”

“Fingers crossed for the former,” Hermione muttered.

“And toes,” Lily agreed.

~~~~

Lily was faffing. Scorpius suspected she was doing it for him, and after the third Muggle shop to look at hats, he called her on it.

“We can go back to your parents’, it’s all right. Your mum isn’t that bad,” Scorpius told her.

“You don’t have her hugging you,” Lily replied, with mock grimace. “Can we just take another ten minutes? It’s nice to pretend.”

Scorpius knew what she meant. People had called his father a fashion plate when he had returned to England, citing the Muggle clothes that he favoured for himself and his son as an affectation. Draco had been pleased by that. It was much easier to be thought vain than recognised as a coward. Nineteen years had been just long enough for him to shop on Diagon Alley again.

As Lily chatted with the salesgirls, none of them knew. None of them gave her the pitying look that had been worn by everyone at the Ministry. There were no murmurs of encouragement, no whispering as they walked past. She was just a girl in a shop, trying on an absurd number of hats.

“So, did you see Al before he went to work this morning?” she asked, all innocence.

“Yes, I did. We drank a cup of coffee and had a perfectly normal conversation.” Scorpius noticed the salesgirls’ chatter declining at that.

“Did he ask you to sleep with him again?”

The salesgirls weren’t even trying to hide their interest now.

“I will miss you when I have killed you and disposed of your body,” Scorpius told her.

“You love me,” Lily reminded him.

“Not as much as Albus thinks I do.”

“Tell him.” Lily looked out from underneath a straw and peony construction at him. “If you don’t tell him, I will.”

“You promised,” Scorpius reminded her. “You’re not about to break that now.”

“Yes, well at this rate I’ll be breaking somebody’s neck before soon. What about this one?”

Lily posed coquettishly in a green and white canvas hat.

Scorpius could not help laughing at her. “Yes, you should definitely buy that one.” He avoided the eyes of the shopgirls and wandered outside while Lily paid for her purchase. It was a beautiful day, maybe they should spend a few more hours out and about. They’d done all they could for James.

His phone rang. He flipped it open and answered on Muggle setting. A shakier image and tinnier voice appeared. It was Albus. Scorpius stared, unable to say a word. Al started, instead.

“Are you with Lily?” he asked, agitated.

“Yeah, she’s just inside the shop.”

“Can you take her home? Right now? We’re getting news out of Finland. Something big is happening. I don’t think it’s good.”

Scorpius nodded. “We’ll be a minute, maybe two.”

“Thanks. Keep Mum away from the Unwired, yeah?”

“I will. Let me know what’s happening?”

“I will.”

The grainy image of Albus looked at him, Scorpius cursed Muggle interference. In a crisp Wizarding transmission he’d be able to read that expression. The image flickered and was gone. Scorpius snapped his phone shut just as Lily appeared beside him.

“What’s wrong?” She didn’t protest as he grabbed her arm and dragged her towards a dark corner where they could Apparate.

“Albus thinks something’s about to break. He wants us at your house, and your mum away from the news for now.”

“But she’ll want to know! I want to know!” Lily finished her sentence as they dived into the alleyway.

“Al will tell you when he should,” Scorpius promised. And it was an easy promise to make. Al had always made sure the news got out when and where it should. With everyone but him.

“You don’t think …” Lily’s knees were suddenly uncooperative and she stumbled.

Scorpius swung her up in his arms. “No. He’d have told me. He’d have told you. Hold on, here we go.”


****************************


“FUCK!”

“Al, stop shouting, you’re scaring the engineers.” Hugo looked as though Al was starting to scare him, too.

“Is there anyone actually in this building or has the entire staff gone for an early lunch?” Albus spotted the work experience girl filing in one corner. “You, what’s your name?”

“Elizabeth, sir,” she replied, eyes wide.

“Can you read an autocue?”

“Leave her alone,” Catherine Worthing’s elocuted tones cut through the air. “What do we have?”

Albus rounded on her. “Rumours coming out of Finland that Mannerheim is dead, killed in a prison brawl. I need someone from the Finnish Ministry to confirm or deny. I need you to get a bulletin together, deploring the breakdown in prison safety at any time, let alone during such delicate negotiations.”

“Should we wait for the confirmation before I start on that?”

“Of course not.” Al tapped on his earpiece, listened for a moment and grunted an agreement. “Right, I’ve got the head of Wizards for a Muggle-free Britain coming in, you’re to give him three minutes to put his case. Only argue errors of fact.”

Catherine stared at him. “Max Mitford is a raving nutter and you want me to interview him?”

Albus turned on her. “Yes. And you will be courteous and delightful. And you will do whatever it takes to convince those fuckers who have my brother that Britain had nothing to do with this.”

“Albus,” Catherine’s voice was genuinely gentle. “They won’t be watching British news.”

He took a breath. “Not now, no. But they’ll be downloading it soon enough. Please, Catherine.”

“Of course. We should talk to the Minister about the implications for our negotiations with the hostage takers.”

“He’s about to be swamped by diplomats. We’ll get the Deputy Minister. You’ll need to ring her, secure her involvement, and brief her if we’re ahead of them as the situation unfolds.”

“She’s your aunt. Can’t Hugo? She’s his mum!”

“That’s why it has to be you.”

“Pay rise,” Catherine shouted after him as he walked away.

“Week in Greece with a bar tab,” Albus countered.

“Done!”

“You’d have done cheaper with the pay rise,” Hugo muttered as they walked back towards Al’s office. “I have my source from the Finnish Aurors on the phone, he says it’s true.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes.”

They shut the door behind them and put Hugo’s phone onto the desk. He switched off the mute. A nervous man in red uniform appeared.

“Mika,” said Hugo, “this is my cousin, Albus. James is his brother.”

“Good to meet you,” said the Finn. “I need to be quick, I have to be back in a few minutes.”

“Was it really a murder?” Albus asked.

“Yes. His head has been crushed by a rock, there is nothing magical about it. It’s been done by someone without a wand, but with a great deal of strength. It was a large rock.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Albus began. “But was it …”

“One of us?” Mika shook his head. “The guards are all accounted for. There were no visitors in the jail at that time. In fact, he has his own personal guard made up of other prisoners. We believe it was one of them. You need to know, that guard was made up of Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon.”

That doesn’t make sense!” Hugo protested.

“Or it makes a frightening amount of sense,” Mika said soberly. “I have to go.”

“Thank you,” Albus looked the image in the eyes. “I won’t forget this.”

“Eh, maybe you can do a story on us when we get your brother back. Make me popular with the girls.”

“Maybe.”

“Goodbye.”

“See you Mika, cheers mate.” Hugo reached forward and switched off the phone. “Fuck,” he breathed.


~~~~


Albus was halfway to the set when his phone rang. It was his father. He ducked behind a scrim, this was not a conversation he wanted anyone to see.

He opened the phone.

“We have her, Al.”

“What?” His father wasn’t making any sense. Had who?

“The interpreter. They picked her up as she was packing. They’re bringing her here, along with their two best interrogators.”

“Dad–”

“Hang on, I have another call coming in; it’s Hermione, I’ll conference us.”

The small figure of his aunt appeared beside Harry on Al’s phone. “Don’t conference m– ah. Albus.” She looked anxiously between the two figures and didn’t speak.

“You’ve just heard from Finland,” Al guessed.

“You know?”

“Know what?”

“Mannerheim’s just been killed in a prison attack,” Hermione told him gently. “They’re keeping it as quiet as they can, but the news is seeping out. It’s going to break soon.”

Harry’s image whirled to face Albus. “You knew? When were you going to tell me?”

“Dad, I had to start putting things in place straight away,” Al tried to explain.

“Yes, because Merlin forbid you put your family before the news!” Harry was working his way up into a rant.

“I tried to tell you a minute ago!”

“When I called you!”

“Harry. Harry!” Hermione spoke over them. “Now’s not the time. Al, are you the reason I have a message from Catherine Worthing asking for an urgent interview to assure the Battalion of the British Ministry’s continuing good faith?”

Al nodded.

“Good thinking. I’ll tell my Finnish counterpart to do the same.”

“Dad, our source says he thinks the other Vapaaehtoiset prisoners were behind the attack.”

Harry nodded, a deep frown creasing his face. “I’ll tell our teams. Do the Finns know?”

“Our source has connections within the Aurors,” Albus caged.

“When are you going to air? I’ll make sure I get home in time to be with your mother.”

“Stay there, I’ve sent Scorpius and Lily to her. I’ve got to go. Aunt Hermione, can you do the interview?”

“Already messaged a yes, I’ll be at the studio in five.”

Al snapped his phone shut and took a deep shaking breath. Then he strode out from behind the scrim. “Right, Granger’s on her way, can we have make-up ready for her? Catherine, how goes that confirmation? Work Experience Girl, Elizabeth, come down here and sit with Catherine while she does her prep. Learn something. Make her cups of tea if she wants them. Come on, people, we need to be on air in seven minutes!”


****************************


“He said he’d call you back,” Lily whispered, scared, as they walked up the drive to her family home.

“It’s been sixty seconds, Lils. He’ll be dealing with the actual crisis,” Scorpius reassured her.

“I need to know!”

Scorpius paused and turned the news ticker on along the bottom edge of his glasses. “There. It’s a private read. Nothing yet. If your mother notices the flickering, I’ll tell her it’s stock updates.”

Lily squeezed his hand.

The front door opened. “You two are back early,” Molly Weasley greeted them. “Everything all right?”

“We identified the plant they found with James’s stuff,” Lily told her with a hug. “Dad and Mr Malfoy think it’s going to help them narrow the search area.”

“Clever girl!” Molly patted Lily’s hair as Scorpius slipped past them inside the house.

He looked for Ginny. She was not in the sitting room, nor in the dining room, nor in the study. He’d looked through the kitchen, the conservatory, the good drawing room, the playroom … then he kicked himself. He knocked on the door of James’s old room.

“Come in,” Ginny’s voice called out.

She was making James’s bed.

“Harry never puts fresh sheets on after the children have visited. He’s convinced they ought to do it for themselves now, but I like taking care of them still,” she told him, not looking up.

Scorpius smiled. He didn’t think James Potter knew how to make his bed. Around the walls were the standard detritus of childhood; Quidditch posters, a few band images, a board of photos filled with waving schoolmates and family. There was a shelf full of cups and trophies, one of James’s Flooeys was perched precariously on the edge. There was even a photo of him – with Al – propped up at the back of James’s desk.

“So does your being back before lunch suggest good news?” Ginny asked quietly.

“Lily and I were able to identify the plant samples,” Scorpius told her. “It’s an unusual variety of sedge, it only grows in a limited area. Harry and … Ron think that it was caught up in the clothing of one of the hostage takers; they think it might come from where they’re holding James.”

Ginny stopped her work, but still did not look up. “That is good news.”

Scorpius decided that there was one easy way to keep her busy. “Have you had lunch?” he asked.

“Not yet. Have you and Lily?”

“No, why don’t I put some on?”

She looked up then, and smiled at him. “You’re surprisingly useful, Scorpius. Where did you learn that?”

He shrugged. “My parents always taught me that I should learn as much as I could, because I never knew where life would lead me.”

Ginny gave him a measured look, then patted his arm as she walked by him to the door. “Come on, Mum and I will do lunch, you and Lily can keep us company and tell us what the young people are up to these days.”

Molly and Ginny had chops frying and a salad under construction before Scorpius’s phone rang again. He stepped out of the kitchen to take it in the quiet of the hall.

“Are they all with you?” Albus asked, looking harried.

“In the kitchen,” Scorpius answered.

“Can you take me back in?”

Scorpius turned without a word and went back into the room, placing the phone and its small projection on the table. “Albus has news,” he announced.

Ginny sat heavily in a chair, with Lily and Molly taking up positions behind her.

“Mum, don’t panic, James is still fine as far as we know. But something’s happened that touches on the case and I wanted you to hear it from me. Marti Mannereim has been murdered, we have every reason to suspect that it was by the Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon, but we are running the news as though it was a terrible conspiracy against them, as are the Finns. We think they want us to feel as though we are on the back foot, so that’s what we’re doing. Aunt Hermione is coming in to speak for the Ministry. My contacts in Finland all say they have heard nothing from the battalion. This is a negotiating step by them, we’re letting them think they’ve won on it.”

Ginny looked stricken. “How can you be sure?”

“Dad thinks the same!” Albus blurted.

It seemed to work. Ginny nodded acceptance. “All right. Should I watch the news or will it just upset me?”

“It’ll upset you. Have some lunch. Go for a walk. I’ll call Scorpius the minute I learn anything.”

“Good boy, Al,” Ginny smiled softly, but he was already gone.

Scorpius closed his phone. “He seems confident,” he ventured in the silence.

“It’s like that Italian journalist that was kidnapped for ransom last year,” Lily offered. “Once they’d paid over the money and the two new wands, he was released totally unharmed. They just want more money, that’s all.”

Scorpius nodded. “You hear about journalists being kidnapped all the time, then they come home and write award-winning books about it.”

Ginny shook her head at him. “Albus says that’s just the way things are, but it’s not true, Scorpius. I was with The Daily Prophet for years. None of our journalists ever disappeared.”

Scorpius bit his tongue. The Prophet had been one of the first casualties of streamed Wizarding media, its old-fashioned reliance on Ministry press releases and gossip no match for the instant news of the Network, nor the professional standards of the Unwired.

“Ooh, the chops!” Molly sprang over to the frypan and turned them. As though it were a signal, Ginny returned to the salad and Lily went off to find a tablecloth. Scorpius suddenly remembered that yesterday had been June the fourth and went running after Lily.

“Can you make my excuses?”

“Aren’t you hungry? I’m starving after this morning, and you ate breakfast hours before me.”

He shook his head “It’s Dad’s birthday. I didn’t say a word this morning – forgot what day it was until just now.”

Lily laughed. “Go. I’ll tell Mum and Gran that Gringotts called, or that you had a sudden hair crisis.”

“It’s so sweet you think you’re funny.”

He was halfway up the hall when she called his name softly. He stopped and turned around. “What?”

“Al rang you.”

“I’ve not been thinking about that.”

“Twice.”

“Because I always answer my phone and don’t keep it in the bottom of my bag where no one can hear it.”

“Because he can rely on you.”

“Shut up, Lils.”

“Give your dad a kiss for me.”

“Will do.”


~~~~


Charlie Weasley was walking out of Draco Malfoy’s office as Scorpius arrived. He smiled and waved when he saw the young man, but Scorpius could see that he looked exhausted.

“I hear that you’re the hero of the hour,” Charlie greeted him. “You’ve cut back my search area to something manageable.”

“Hey Charlie,” Scorpius hugged him briefly. “You just in?”

“Portkeyed over half an hour ago. I’m going to sleep for a few hours and then head back.”

“Ask the house-elves to make Dad a cake when you get to the Manor?’

“Will do. Good to see you, I’ll catch up with you when we’ve found James, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Scorpius rarely saw Charlie these days. The longstanding on-again off-again relationship between him and Draco was meant to be a deep secret, but, as Harry put it, if they didn’t want people to know, then Charlie should not give gifts of – and Draco should not wear – dragon-hide boots.

Scorpius paused at his father’s door until Draco looked up and saw him. “Back again?” he asked with a broad smile.

“I forgot to wish you happy birthday,” Scorpius confessed.

Draco grinned. “I’d forgotten it myself until Charlie reminded me.”

“Well, for once I actually have a present ready.”

Draco laughed. “Shame, I was rather fond of the trays of chocolates.”

Scorpius reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, which he handed to his father.

Draco opened it carefully. It was a small glass paperweight, inside was a delicate blue flower with light green, white-spotted leaves. “It’s lovely,” he said, smiling. “What type of flower is it?”

“It’s a new type of lungwort. I discovered it last year on our trip to Latvia.”

“That’s brilliant, Scorpius.”

“I was the first to name it in the literature: Pulmonaria draconii.”

Draco’s hand barely shook, but it was a moment before he spoke again. “Thank you, son.”

Scorpius’s phone rang. “Sorry.” He looked at it, and flipped it open. “Al?”

The image of Albus looked about. “You’re at the Ministry? Mr Malfoy? Oh thank Merlin, I can’t get my Dad. You have to. It’s bad.”

Draco placed the paperweight carefully on his desk, then ran from his office.

Albus bit his lip so hard that Scorpius could see the purple bruising forming underneath his teeth. “I’m coming over,” he decided.

Albus looked at him in surprise. “No, you should be with Lily, and Mum, I don’t want them alone when they … I think he’s dead, S. They’re saying there’s a file … that shows … I need to be here, I need to see it.”

“Send Hugo to your house, I’m coming over now. Tell your security to let me through or I’ll hex them.”

Albus nodded, and ended the call.

Scorpius took a deep breath. Then he, too, turned and ran from his father’s office.


****************************


“I do not give a flying fuck who you think you need approval from, you will send us a copy of that file now or I will Apparate to Helsinki and … good. That’s what I want to hear. Thank you very much. I’ll call you when all this is done and apologise. Thank you, yes, my cousin. Thanks.” Hugo tapped his earpiece and leant forward to hold onto his desk.

“Are they sending the file?” Albus asked from behind him.

Hugo nodded, his shoulders slumping.

“Go home. Or go to my parents’. You don’t need to be here.”

Hugo looked up at him. “I need to see if it’s true.”

Albus reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Hugo clasped his hand.

“I’ll go and sit with Aunt Ginny, Gran and Lily if it is,” he offered.

“Thanks. Mr Malfoy has gone to find Dad, Scorpius is coming here. I think Dad will come here, too, probably with your mum and dad, unless they already have the file at the Ministry.”

“Do you think it’s true?”

Albus was silent. Mika had phoned Hugo five minutes ago. There was a rumour, a file showing an execution, it looked like James, they said. He didn’t know if it was true that there was a file, he didn’t know if the file was real or not. Hugo had immediately begun haranguing the Finnish Minister’s senior secretary, Al knew that later this year he would be running a special on why Eeva Räikkönen was the next big thing in European Wizarding politics, and he would be happy to.

There were tentative steps behind him. Scorpius Malfoy was standing in the doorway. Funny how he looked so out of place indoors these days. Al remembered stealing his glasses one afternoon to make him stop reading. Now he wore hiking boots.

“Al?”

“We’re still waiting on the file.”

“Oh.” Scorpius came in and sat on the corner of Hugo’s desk. He tapped his glasses with his wand. “Text,” he read. “Dad’s on the way with your dad, and your parents, too, Hugo.”

There was a knock at the door, it was George Weasley, who looked frankly ill. “Catherine just found me. Do you have anything yet?”

“Not yet.” Hugo tapped his Network display irritably.

“It could be a hoax,” George muttered.

No one could look up at him. All eyes stayed on Hugo’s display. A small beep indicated the arrival of a new file. Hugo looked up at his cousin.

“Should I wait till your dad gets here?”

Al shook his head, but then raised a hand to stop him pressing play. “Give him a minute,” he whispered.

“They’re here.” Scorpius pointed out the four adults walking swiftly down the hallway through Hugo’s glass door.

“Dad,” Albus went to him. He looked scared. Beside him, Mr Malfoy looked angry.

“We have the file in now, we’re about to watch it.”

Harry nodded. “Press play, Hugo.”

Al stood with his father, and held his hand. His Uncle and Aunt went to stand with their son, and Hugo leaned back against them.

The Unwired here was a conference set-up, so the figures appeared nearly life-sized in the middle of the room. There were two masked men, and James, with his wrists bound. One of the men began to speak in Finnish. Hugo leaned forward and tapped the Network with his wand. The language switched to English.

“ … flagrant disregard for our demands. The outrage perpetrated by the authorities in allowing the death of the battalion’s founder cannot go unanswered. We execute James Potter in the name of the future of Wizarding Europe, and rest assured he will not be the last victim of this conflict.”

James had been glaring at his captors until the word ‘unanswered’. Al knew that he spoke enough Finnish to know what was being said. Understanding swept across his face in the time it took for a breath. He closed his lips and gave a small nod to himself. Then he looked directly at the cameraman. And he smiled.

Al realised his own face was wet. His brother pulled his smile further up on one side, in that way he had always had when he was being encouraging. Don’t worry about being a Slytherin, Al, you’ll win at Quidditch next year, Lily has not stolen your friend, you idiot. That was his big-brother smile.

“Oh god!”

Albus heard his Aunt’s sob, and felt his father’s hand crushing his, and these were both more real than the figure who had just stepped forward and felled his brother with the killing curse. That smile stayed on James’s face, even as he dropped.

Albus blinked.

Scorpius was looking at him, questioning with those grey, serious eyes.

“It’s fake.”

Scorpius nodded.

“Albus,” his father’s whisper was soft, broken.

“No, Dad,” he took both of Harry’s hands, then dropped one to wipe his father’s tears with his cuff. “Dad it’s a fake, it really is, I can prove it.”

He stopped looking at his father then, because he couldn’t afford to break down now.

“Hugo, back it up four seconds. Thanks. See here? The angle of the face is wrong as he starts to fall. The expression has been superimposed onto a figure.”

Ron shook his head. “It’s James’s body, Al, look at the scar on his knuckles.”

Al nodded. “That’s what’s so clever about it, it’s all James.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and accessed his remote Network, then scrolled through his files. With each tap of his wand another image of James appeared on the Unwired, each tiled to make room for the others.

“Okay,” Al pointed to the front left figure, which was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt. “Here’s the fall.”

He tapped play, and James waved expansively off to his left. “Of course, as the Muggles have been telling us for years, life in the Middle East is full of the unexpected.” At which point he dropped suddenly to the ground.

“Heatstroke,” Al said quickly. “He didn’t want to wear a hat. Now look …”

He deleted that image and moved to the next. James’s hands were bound and he stood still. Al hit play. “… forced to spend up to twenty hours in restraints at a time. After four minutes I can tell you that my shoulders are aching and my hands are going numb …”

“It was our special on Russian prisons.”

He could look at his father now. “They’ve spliced together elements from all this footage to make something new. You see?”

“Are you sure?” Harry whispered.

Albus nodded. “Look.”

He flicked away a few of the images and went to one of James wearing dress robes and holding an award. He played it. “But above all, I have to thank my little brother. Who is an appalling know-it-all, and astonishingly hard to please. Worst of all he’s in Coventry with the flu instead of being here with us tonight. So, Albus, this one’s for you.” James looked straight at the camera and smiled.

“Al!” His father was hugging him tightly, and suddenly he was lifted up and swung around.

They were laughing around him, wild gulps of relief.

George’s phone rang and he sent the signal to his earpiece. “Weasley. What? No, it’s a fake. Tell them to pull it. Right, on the floor, we’ll be with you in a minute.”

He looked up at his family and the Malfoys. “It’s already gone out on the Network straight from Finland. The commercial Unwired is starting to run it. We need to get this out. Al, give me your phone.”

Albus tossed the phone to his uncle. “The files are all on the front menu, go in reverse order of the displays for what I’ve just shown you.”

“Good boy. Harry …”

“I’ll go straight to Ginny. With a bit of luck she doesn’t have the news on.”

“We’ll come, too,” Hermione and Ron stood up.

“I’m with George,” Hugo ran after his uncle down the hallway.

Harry kissed Al’s forehead. “That’s my brilliant boy. See you at home later?”

Albus nodded.

“I’m back to the Ministry, I’ll hose things down there, get the search back on track. Find out why they’ve done this,” Draco offered. The four of them left together.

“Al?”

He had forgotten Scorpius was still there.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, good, fine.”

“You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I had coffee for lunch. And breakfast. And morning tea.”

Scorpius walked over to him and put his arms around him. “It’s all right. You did well.”

Al gave himself one moment where he could rest his head on that square shoulder and feel that lean muscle.

“I have to get back to work,” he said, stepping back.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m just happy he’s all right.”

Albus nodded. And meant to walk straight out towards the studio. Leaning over and kissing Scorpius’s lips fleetingly was completely unplanned. As he strode down the hallway, away from his stunned former friend, he decided that he was quite probably in shock.

And if he hadn’t been a moment ago, he certainly was now.


****************************


Scorpius Flooed back to the Potters, since Apparating would not have been a good idea.

Lily was pacing the sitting room anxiously, she startled when he came in through the unlit fire. In the distance, he could hear raised voices.

“Is it true? What Dad says?”

“Yes,” Scorpius assured her. “Al had clear-cut proof. And there’s a flaw in the manipulation; if you look very closely, even if you don’t know the original files, you can see that it’s faked.”

Lily stopped pacing, and her body relaxed a degree. “We’d better stop Mum, she’s working herself up into a fit.”

Scorpius smiled, and flung an arm around her shoulders for a quick hug as she led him through the house.

Ginny was indeed halfway to some sort of conniption. “But Dad and Percy said, and it’s all over the Network!”

“Gin, it’s a fake.” That was Harry’s voice.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW?”

“Ginny, when you look at the file, you can see mistakes, you can see that it’s been made up of other files. They have all the originals it’s been compiled from at the studio. The Network reports are based on rumour. George, Hugo and Al are putting together a broadcast now.” Scorpius and Lily came into the kitchen as Hermione finished talking.

“But how do you know they’re right? You can’t trust Albus! He’s not reliable!”

There was a sudden hush.

“Ginevra Weasley!” Molly was outraged.

Scorpius steered Lily out of the kitchen.

She waited until they were out by the henhouse before she looked up at him. “Sometimes, when she says Albus, she really means Dad.”

“I guessed.”

Percy and Arthur Weasley were walking quickly up the kitchen path. Percy’s glasses showed the tell-tale flicker of an Unwired feed, and he was narrating the updates to his father.

“Is it true?” Arthur called out when he saw them. “It’s a fake?”

Scorpius and Lily both nodded.

“Yes Gramps,” Lily called back to him, and ran down the path to tuck herself under his arm, subtly offering support. “Al figured it out. They don’t know why yet, Dad and Aunt Hermione are inside with Mum.”

“Who’s working on the case?” Percy’s voice was cranky, but his face was worried.

“My Dad is liaising with the other departments at the Ministry,” Scorpius replied. “While your brother Charlie is running the search.”

“That’s good. Malfoy is smart, he’ll stay on top of it.”

“What are you two doing out hiding with the chickens, poppet?”

“Mum’s having a moment, Gramps. Hiding out with the chickens was a tactical withdrawal.”

“Do I need to go in there and yell at her, or should we just wait a minute?”

“Gran’s handling the yelling, I think giving it a minute will do the trick.”

Arthur mussed Lily’s hair. “She loves you all, you know that.”

“I know,” Lily sighed.

Scorpius stepped away a little. He had been jealous of Lily and Al’s hands-on mother when they were young, but as an adult, his affectionate but vague maternal figure had her charms.

It was Ron Weasley who stuck his head out a few minutes later. “It’s safe, you two. Oh, hello Dad, hi Percy.”

There was a call from further down the path, Luna and Neville were walking up it with boxes of groceries, oblivious to the afternoon’s dramas.

~~~~

With a kitchen full of Weasleys and associates, Lily weaved through the crowd and led Scorpius up the hall to her old room. “This,” she explained, “is neither hiding nor a tactical withdrawal. It is the voice of experience that says more than four members of my family at once should not be endured by outsiders. Not even you.”

She switched on the small desk Unwired as they entered the room, it was showing the deconstruction of the faked footage. “So, my question for the day is: what were you doing in Hugo’s office when Dad got there?”

“What?”

Lily grinned. “Dad told me, he and your dad met up with Aunt Hermione and Ron just as they were returning from the studios. The four of them went straight back to the studios, were told where Al was, and there you were with him.”

Scorpius shrugged. “Al rang me at the Ministry.”

Lily grinned at him.

“Your family is congenitally unable to leave their phones on,” he replied with a glare.

Lily shuddered, looking at the footage. “Who do you think would do this?”

“I really don’t know. My Dad thought the more important question was why.”

There was a gentle knock at Lily’s door. Harry poked his head in. “Scared the two of you off, have we?”

“You survived!”

Harry shook his head. “Don’t be sarcastic, Lil. Your mother is finding all of this incredibly difficult.”

Lily went over and hugged her father. “We all are, Dad. But she’s just …”

“She’s just a mother who loves her son and is frantic with worry. And she doesn’t work in an area where she can help to find him. So let her be. Now.” He let go of Lily and looked at her and Scorpius. “I am headed back to the office with Hermione and Ron. Scorpius, your father suggested that you and Lily might like to come back in and put yourself to further use on some of the fibre traces they found on James’s kit. I know it’s not your main field, but he says that you can prepare the samples as well as any of his staff, and it will give you something to do.”

“Yes.” Lily agreed immediately for the two of them.

“We’d like to be useful, thanks,” Scorpius replied more formally. He strongly suspected that his father’s invitation had come in response to a suggestion that he and Lily be kept out of the house for a while.

“Come on then. Lil, you need to give your mother a kiss and let her know you might be out all night.”

“Righto,” said Lily, grabbing her backpack. “I’ll take a change in case I get a chance to shower or kip.”

“That’s my girl.”

Molly Weasley had restored order to the kitchen when they walked back in. Lily gave her grandmother a hug, then turned to her mother. “Mum, Dad says they have science that I can help with at the Ministry. I’m going in to do what I can. I’ll let you know if we hear anything, or come straight home if you want me. Okay?”

Her mother held her tightly. “You’re a good girl, Lily. And you promise to send me word?”

“The minute we know.”

Scorpius was already waiting at the kitchen door for her. Once the older three had finished their goodbyes, they walked past the Wards and Apparated back to the Ministry.


****************************


“Hugo!”

“Yes, Al?” Albus jumped as Hugo’s voice piped up behind him.

“Don’t do that today. It’s been an hour, do we have any response from the Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon? Anything from the Finns on who they think the hoaxers are? Anything?”

“Not yet. Though Mum’s just asked for a high-res display so she can review last night’s file of James.”

“Send it to her.”

“Already have.”

Albus perched on the corner of his desk. He’d not heard anything on the interpreter, which meant either that she hadn’t cracked, or that his father was keeping the news quiet for procedural reasons. None of their Finnish sources were providing any fresh details, though Isaac Gamp was out working his shadier contacts even now.

“Get Max Mitford back in. See if you can convince Charles Marron to sit down with him and have a serious discussion about Wizarding Separatism. Steer him away from anti-Muggle prejudice, if he can keep it all to the pro-case for magical protection we’ll screen it uncut.”

“Albus …”

Al raised a finger to silence his cousin. “Once this is done we will have your mum present a very eloquent argument for peaceful co-existence. But not today, okay?”

“Okay. Al?”

“Yep?”

“It’s going to be all right.”

“Yeah, Huge, I’m sure it is.”

“I’ll go and talk to Charles.”

“Cheers.”

Al leaned back and looked at his ceiling. If James were here, he’d have a plan. Of course, James’s plans had usually been for James to go in and Do Something, but even that had to be better than sitting on the wrong side of the North Sea and Waiting For Something.

Al wondered if his Uncle Charlie had found anything. Then he wondered how his Uncle Charlie was flying a dragon around Finland when there were only about three hours of darkness a day. Then he wondered if four hours of sleep was really enough. And why he had kissed Scorpius. And really, wasn’t it time one of his highly paid journalists reported something?

“Catherine!”

His anchor stuck her head into his office. “You bellowed?”

“What am I missing?”

Catherine came in and sat in Albus’s vacant chair. “Your brother, Al, you’re missing your brother. Aside from that you are doing everything possible. We’ve offered the money, the Ministry has several credible offers of land, Mannerheim is off the table. Our people can’t do anything until they hear from the Battalion.”

Al sighed deeply. “Should I go and show the work experience girl how to file archive tapes?”

Catherine laughed. “I have Elizabeth helping Charles out with background research, you’ll have to find other ways to kill time. Like telling me who the tasty blond who came running in looking for you was.”

Albus looked at her blankly for a moment. “Oh,” he realised. “Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy.”

“Ah.” Catherine nodded.

“Not you, too.” Albus dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes for a moment. “All right, I’m getting back on the phone to Finland. You go and make yourself look pretty, I want us to have something to take out there at four.”

“Yes boss.” Catherine patted his knee and grinned at him. Then she paused. “You’re doing everything right, Al.”

“I just wish I knew if it was doing anything.”

Catherine kissed his cheek. “I’ll tell him how much he owes you when he comes back.”

Hugo appeared at the door. He had his phone in his hand. “Mika,” he announced. “There’s news.”

Albus flipped open his phone and tapped it three times. “Dad, Hermione, Scorpius,” he ordered. When the figures appeared he spoke without preamble. “Are you getting anything in?”

“No,” said his father.

“Go,” Al gestured for Hugo to continue his conversation.

Mika’s voice came through tinnily, as though he was speaking in the wind. “Eeva asked me to tell you that the Minister has been told he will receive a new file at six. That’s six o’clock our time. The transmission came from the same source as the first one.”

“Thanks, Mika. Tell Eeva and the Minister we owe you, yeah?”

“Tell your Minister he should be employing you.”

Hugo laughed. “Can’t afford me, mate!”

Albus turned back to the three figures on his phone. “About half an hour. I’ll have my Finnish team liaise with the Ministry to track the transmission as far as they can. Dad, is there anything else we can do?”

“I’ll let you know if we think of anything. Come here when you finish up tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Al?” Scorpius had a hand raised and was listening to someone out of range of the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Dad says to ask the Finns to capture the file at as high a resolution as possible. He has an idea about something, but needs more information.”

“Mika?” Al sang out in Hugo’s direction. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes, I will make sure they do.”

Hermione’s signal blipped. “I have an incoming, this will be official channels. Talk later.” She blinked out.

“See you, son.” Harry followed.

Scorpius’s figure looked at Albus for a moment. “Bye.” He, too, was gone.

Catherine looked at Albus. “Ah,” she repeated.

He was horrified to realise he was blushing. “Out. Let everyone know major bulletin just after four. You can anchor it because I like you. Don’t make me change my mind.”

Catherine grinned and rushed out.

Hugo was grinning, too, but schooled his face to seriousness. “Do you still want Mitford?”

“If he can get here in the next ten minutes, we’ll run it, otherwise he’ll have to wait till the next news cycle.”

“Al?”

“Yes?”

“It’s good news. If James was dead, they wouldn’t need to make an appointment.”

Albus smiled. For the first time in a day, he took a deep breath.


****************************


Harry Potter ran into the laboratory. “Draco!”

Scorpius made large shushing gestures, but it was too late. His father looked up blearily from his sofa in the corner.

“Ah, Harry. Of course. No one else has quite the level of Erumpent that you manage.”

“Get up, I have good news. The interpreter has spoken.”

Draco leapt from his bed at that and hugged Harry. “Good work. Did you have to break all her fingers?”

“Only the one.”

Scorpius was not entirely sure that Harry was joking.

“She only knew two names, but one of them is in the Finnish Ministry, and he is still at work. I’m heading over after the new file comes in. Want to come?”

Draco laughed. “You can’t speak Finnish.”

“No, nor can I do the lab analysis on the spot if we come up with anything, so you’re doubly useful.”

“Are we staying or coming straight back?”

“Coming back.”

“All right.” Draco turned to Scorpius. “When the file comes in, I want you and Lily to play it on the central display. It will render up to three-hundred per cent without loss of image quality. I am looking for three things: any natural light and the angle it is shining at; any plant or insect life and an identification; any background noise and a sound analysis.”

“They shot him in a white-tiled room last time,” Scorpius reminded his father.

“I know. But I’m counting on them being too lazy to clean it out after the last time they were in there. It’s not a big chance, but it’s one I’d like to exhaust. Can you run that analysis? I want my team to stay on the fibre traces. I can do the actual interpretation of the results when I get back, unless you find something obvious.”

Scorpius nodded, grinning. It was like being a boy again and mixing reagents for the lab, except this time it mattered immediately.

“Dad?” Lily came over nervously. “It’s five to four.”

Harry nodded at them. “Al tells me he expects to have the file a few minutes after it comes in. Do you want to watch it here, or in my office?”

“Office,” she replied decisively.

Scorpius added the reagent to his last sample and handed it to his father’s lab manager. The older wizard smiled at him, that same reassuring smile they were all using today. Scorpius mirrored it. Then he turned and walked after the others.


****************************


“This is James Potter, it’s the fifth of June and I have now been held hostage for approximately thirty hours. I am reading a prepared statement from the members of the Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon, who are my captors.

“Firstly, they wish to state that today’s tragic events are an outrage that they suspect to have been orchestrated by the Finnish government in an attempt to undermine the Battaillon.

“Both the despicable murder of Marti Mannerheim, and the crude ersatz execution of James Potter show clear signs of hailing from the Ministry.

“This transparent effort to discredit a legitimate political organisation with aims that are reflected under the international Wizarding Statutes is doomed to failure and will work against you as a negotiating tool.

“Accordingly, the time available to meet the Battaillon’s demands has been shortened by twenty-four hours. If, by midnight June six, those demands have not been satisfied, I will be executed.

“Due to the state-sponsored murder of Marti Mannerheim, the Battaillon now require a sum of one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand Galleons, in addition to the key demand of a Muggle-free homeland in a state that does not have an extradition arrangement with the European Wizarding Union.

“Senior members of the Battaillon will contact the Finnish Minister tomorrow, at 2pm Helsinki time to finalise negotiations.

“This is the end of the prepared statement. I have asked my captors for the opportunity to say a few words.

“Up to this point I have been well-treated and my living conditions are good. However, I have no reason to believe that my captors are bluffing, and they certainly possess the personnel to carry out their threat. I am being held in a well-guarded and secure location that has excellent sight lines in all directions. An attack on this instillation would result in my death.

“That said, the demands as they stand are patently outrageous—”

The studio erupted in applause, even as the transmission was suddenly cut off.

“You always tell him not to grandstand,” Hugo muttered.

Albus sighed. “With a bit of luck, he’ll live long enough to listen one day. Do you have the high-res recording? Give it to me, I’ll take it over to Dad. Can you run the studio until I get back?”

“Long as you need. Tell him good luck from me.”

“I will.”

Albus uploaded the file and strode out of the mixing room away from the more sensitive instrumentation. Apparating and signals were not a good combination. A few minutes later he was walking down a familiar hall in the Ministry, and was genuinely surprised when his father wasn’t in the tearoom.

He kept walking, and was surprised to find Lily, Scorpius and Mr Malfoy in the hallway outside his father’s office.

“Dad?” he asked.

“On the phone to Mum,” Lily answered.

“Oh.” Albus sighed. “So who’s she mad at this time? Me or Dad?

“I’m not sure she’s making a distinction at the moment.”

“I’ll sleep at the flat tonight.”

“Good idea.”

The door opened. “You can come back in, it’s safe. Al! Do you have it?”

Albus walked in and held his phone beside Harry’s Network. “It’s the file we received, the highest res, same as they received at the Ministry. I’ve uploaded it globally here, so you can all work on it at the same time.”

“Good boy. Are you busy at the moment?”

“Why?”

“You have contacts in Finland, and in the Finnish Ministry?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Care to join us on a short trip?”

Albus knew he should say no, should stay behind and do his job, but he knew he wasn’t going to. He flipped open his phone. “Hugo? I’m going to be a little while.”


****************************


“So are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Al?” Lily asked as they ran back down the hallways to Draco’s lab.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, small delusional one,” Scorpius replied, rounding the corner on her outside.

“Last night he kept looking at you, just now he wouldn’t meet your eyes.”

“He’s preoccupied.”

“Right.”

“There’s your aunt.”

The Deputy Minister joined them at the run. “I’m coming down to use the display,” she panted. “I have a theory.”

The other witches and wizards had left all the Unwired-related equipment clear for them. Although Scorpius was certain that many had watched it on personal feeds, they were all still and quiet to watch James’s figure speak again.

“There!” Hermione shouted. “Come around the back, you’ll see.”

As he read, James three times combed back his messy hair. Each time he did it with both hands, his left hand using his three central fingers to tame the locks and leaving his thumb and pinky up, with his right hand he used his forefinger and middle finger, leaving three digits above the red-brown tangles.

Hermione wheeled on Lily. “Have you ever seen him do that before?”

“He plays with his hair all the time, but not like that, no.”

“It’s a sign. Play the first file.”

Scorpius queued up the original ransom file and pressed play. They all watched, silently, until James raised his hands to his head again.

“Yes!” Hermione jumped in the air. “Now does he mean twenty-three or thirty-two? And what’s he referring to?”

“Men!” Lily exclaimed, catching her aunt’s enthusiasm. “See how he pats the back of his head at the end of the gesture? That many of these, that many men! Or possibly humans.”

“I think you’re right.” They hugged each other.

Scorpius thought for a moment. “Ring Hugo. He’ll know whether James means twenty-three or thirty-two.”

“Good idea.” Hermione pulled out her phone and called her son.

“Let me see,” Hugo’s small figure commanded. “Right, James loves being on-camera. He knows you’ll be looking at this from a natural angle, so read it left to right, twenty-three. Good work, Mum!”

Hermione shook her head. “We’re no closer to finding him, it’s just a bit more information for when we do.”

Scorpius watched as the Deputy Minister’s enthusiasm left her with the words. Lily, too, flagged. Around the laboratory, witches and wizards went back to work.

Scorpius pulled up the latest file again. “Frame one, three hundred per cent, full display, frame-by-frame pause,” he commanded the Network. He smiled at Lily, and the two of them began their search.


****************************


Helsinki was a surprisingly attractive city. Albus realised that for all his many friends in Finland, his entire experiences there totalled three hours in the airport and a two-day conference that had been spent almost wholly inside a hotel. Mr Malfoy did not appear to share this limitation.

“The Ministry is off Senate Square,” Draco announced, leading the way.

“Mika said he’ll meet us outside, since you can’t Apparate in or out. Eeva Räikkönen has Hästesko in for a performance review, so he will still be there,” Albus was repeating himself; he had forgotten how nervous Mr Malfoy made him.

“What do we know about him?” Draco’s question was addressed to Harry.

“Good family, travelled a great deal, may have been radicalised on a posting to Russia three years ago. Policy maker within the Ministry, specialising in health. Nothing suspicious that we could find.”

“Do they have a watch on the family?”

“The parents and sister. Low-key at the moment until he’s apprehended. We do think of these things.”

“Just checking.”

“How’s your lab without you?”

“I believe your daughter is working there.”

“Should be fine, then.”

Albus smiled. He remembered how infuriated his Mum had been when Draco Malfoy would drop by to pick up Scorpius, but every year, Harry would be more relaxed around him. He’d asked his father about it once. They had a lot in common, had been the reply. Mum had always snorted at that, but Al could see it.

They walked quickly, and were soon crossing the huge expanse of the Square, with the imposing, angular buildings on all sides. Draco strode ahead, and nodded at the red-clad figure who was watching them approach.

The figure was squinting at Albus. He looked familiar. “Mika?”

“I thought it was you.” The Finnish Auror grinned. “This is your father? Our statue of you is not very flattering, I am afraid.”

Al smothered a smile as Harry blushed.

“Is Fredrik Hästesko still inside?” Harry asked briskly.

“I saw him in Eeva’s office not quarter of an hour ago. Two of my colleagues are guarding the doors to the Ministry.”

“Good work.”

There was a mutter that waved ahead of them as they walked into the Finnish Ministry. Albus realised that many had actually read biographies of his father, with accurate photographs, and more than a few knew Draco from his appearances in the scientific journals, and the social pages. Some small part of his brain filed away the possibility of a special on each of them.

Mika walked quickly through the corridors, then suddenly broke into a run. It took Albus a moment to see why. There was a door flung open, and a shattered window at the end of the corridor. Draco followed Mika into the office, Harry ran to the window.

Al looked into the office. A woman was prone on the floor, but her colour was good, and Mr Malfoy was rolling her gently onto her side. “She’s just Stunned,” he told Mika.

“Draco! I can see him!” Harry yelled from the end of the corridor.

“I can do basic healing spells,” Albus offered.

Draco nodded, and ran after Harry.

Mika pointed at the desk phone. “Vastaanotto will get you reception. I’ll call for backup, you call for help.” He, too, ran after Harry.

Albus checked Eeva’s pulse. It was strong and steady, as was her breathing. Relieved, he went to the phone. “Vastaanotto,” he ordered. A small figure appeared. “Hei. Minun nimeni on Albus Potter. Puhutteko englantia?”

“Yes, how can I help?” asked the young man on the other end.

“Oh thank Merlin. I’m in Eeva Räikkönen’s office, she’s been Stunned. She’s doing well, but can you please send a medic?”

The figure barked an order out of range of the phone, then turned back to Albus. “Do you know who Stunned her?”

Albus was about to give a name when he realised he had no idea who this man was. “My father and Mr Malfoy have gone after the assailant with Mika Rosberg. Mika said he was calling for backup.”

“Do we need to shut down the Ministry?”

“No, he fled through a window.”

“Thank you, your mediwitch will be with you in a moment. Aurors will join you shortly for further questions. Please do not touch anything on Secretary Räikkönen’s desk aside from the phone.”

“I haven’t.”

“Thank you. Do you require tea?”

Albus nodded. “Yes please.”

He ended the transmission and went back to sit beside Eeva. The Finns would be courteous in the middle of apocalypse, he decided. He patted her shoulder gently. “I will do your political adverts when you decide you want to run for Minister,” he promised the still woman. “For free.” It seemed the least he could do.

~~~~

In the half-hour it took Mika, Harry and Draco to return, Albus had three cups of tea and a slice of omenakakku. Eeva had joined him for the apple cake, completely recovered.

“It’s my fault,” she told him. “I was running out of questions and he noticed. He panicked. The next thing I knew, the mediwitch was helping me drink a tonic.”

“It’s all right, Eeva,” Albus reassured her. “He left with two Aurors and an unprincipled Unspeakable on his tail. He won’t get far.”

Al had been right. Ten minutes ago, his father had called to let him know that they were on their way back with Hästesko.

Eeva patted his knee. “Would you like to go and watch our interrogation?” she offered.

Albus was surprised to find himself saying yes. The inner workings of law enforcement had never really appealed to him, but this was James.

“Come on.” Eeva led the way down below the light and airy main level of the Ministry into the bowels of law enforcement.

She opened the door to a viewing gallery, below, on the other side of presumably one-way glass, was a room with a long table and four chairs. Mika entered it, escorting a man who Albus assumed was Hästesko.

Harry and Draco followed, and took up station on opposite sides of the far wall. Two unknown Finnish Aurors joined them.

“How’s your Finnish?” Eeva asked Al.

“Poor,” he answered honestly.

“Here.” She cast a translating spell. “They will have in-ear translators down there.”

“Fredrik Hästesko?” Mika asked.

“Haista vittu!”

Al looked at Eeva, who was blushing. “Er, that’s not particularly translatable.”

“Ah.” Al nodded.

“You were seen fleeing the Ministry earlier today, having Stunned Eeva Räikkönen. The senior secretary identified you. You were also named by a witness to the kidnapping of James Potter as a member of the Volunteers Battalion, and implicated in the conspiracy behind that kidnapping.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“I should warn you that the Ministry has deemed these to be terrorist offences, and therefore there is no obligation to provide you with legal representation at this time.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“I am obliged to formally instruct you that we are entitled to hold you for a period of two-hundred-and-forty hours without laying charge. In addition to not being obliged to provide you with representation, we are not obliged to inform your family of your whereabouts, nor your place of employment.”

“I work here.”

“You worked here, Fredrik. I would not count on a future in the Ministry.”

“I have nothing to say.”

Mika took a deep breath. He stood up from the chair opposite the prisoner and sat on the table beside him.

“Did you study modern history at school, Fredrik?”

Hästesko looked up at him, surprise making him shake his head before he could stop himself. “I have nothing to say,” he muttered crossly.

“I did not think you had. Do you know who the two men who caught you are?”

“English.” The word was grunted, as though it were an insult.

“Very good. You could tell from their clothes, couldn’t you? The way you can barely tell they’re Wizards. You didn’t need this one bellowing at you in his outdated Finnish and this one shouting at you in English to guess they weren’t from here. You could see it already. They are too Muggle-loving on their little island, too cosy with the commoners.”

Hästesko said nothing, but Albus noted that most of the hostility had left his posture.

“You must have been wondering why they were here. What they were doing inside our Ministry. Who they were that I would let them take the lead in a chase through my city. Did you not think that as you ran? Did you not wonder how they knew to track you when you Apparated? Did you not wonder why the dark one could disarm you so easily?”

Fear was creeping into the prisoner’s body now, Al saw. He was staring at Draco, who had that otherworldly Malfoy expression perfected at the moment. He looked away quickly, but that brought his eyes to Harry.

Albus watched Hästesko’s face closely. The eyes widened. He saw the tell-tale flicker upwards. There it was. He had seen the scar. Hästesko began to pant slightly.

Mika was silent for a long moment.

He jumped elegantly from the desk. “I am tired,” he announced. “Running is very thirsty work. Mr Malfoy, you must be very tired after those tracking spells, can I offer you a drink?”

Draco inclined his head graciously. “That would be delightful.”

“Nico, Heikki, would you like a drink?”

“Very much,” the two Aurors grinned.

“We will go and have a drink for a little while. Harry, can you guard the prisoner while we are gone?”

Albus watched his father carefully. He was still leaning against the wall, body casual, arms crossed. He did not shift a muscle, save that he opened his mouth in a grin.

Al shuddered.

“They paid me,” Hästesko blurted. “The Battalion had lost sight of its goals, so they paid me to make the file!”

Mika glanced up at Harry, and Albus was the only one who could see the confusion on their faces.

“Slow down, Fredrik.” Mika patted his arm. “Who paid you?”

~~~~

“So it’s a breakaway part of the Battalion. First they killed Mannerheim and then they faked the James file. They’re trying to scuttle the negotiations and emerge as the main force within the anti-Muggle movement.”

A tiny figure of Hermione nodded at Albus’s summation. “So why did the Battalion take a day off the negotiations? If they weren’t involved … surely they know it wasn’t the government.”

Al shook his head. “Eeva says she thinks they’re panicking. She thinks the ringleaders have been closed off from the rest of the Battalion to protect their hiding spot and they don’t know about the fractures in their own organisation. Suspecting the Finnish Ministry makes perfect sense to them.”

“But surely Hästesko was able to give your father names?”

Albus nodded. “Yes, we have several to go on with. But that was all he had. He was locked out of the kidnapping. Apparently he was not popular with the leaders of the Battalion.”

“So they have some sense.”

Albus smiled. His Aunt was inclined to forget herself a little around him, which had led to more than one scooped story.

“Is your father there? Or Draco?”

“They were still interviewing Hästesko when I called you. Eeva said she thought you should know as soon as possible. Aunty …”

“Yes?”

“Don’t tell Hugo.”

She smiled. “Why not, Al?”

“He’ll feel torn between his obligation to the news and an unwillingness to put James in further danger.”

“And you’d like to save him the pain?”

“It’s bad enough that I am developing an ulcer of my own. There’s still hope for Huge’s health.”

She actually grinned at that. “Thoughtful boy. Tell your Dad and Draco to call me, or to pop in if you’re coming straight back, we have a development.”

“I will.”

Eeva was waiting outside the door to her office when Al emerged. “Thanks for that,” he smiled at her.

“It is all right. I will come and ask you for a favour if I am ever in trouble.”

“Actually, I’ve had some ideas on that topic already,” he replied, making her laugh. “Is Dad still in interrogation?”

“No. They have finished and are down in the tearoom. Would you like me to walk you there?”

“Where we had cake?”

“Yes.”

“That’s fine, I remember the way.”

He wondered if there was still any cake left. Food today had been a bit erratic. He wondered if adding milk and sugar to his tea and coffee would help when it came to nutritional balance.

Albus was about to push the door to the tearoom open when he heard his father’s voice. “I was so sure …” he was whispering. “None of this leads us to him. I have nothing, and James has lost a day.”

He peered around the door instead. His father and Mr Malfoy were sitting on the floor, Harry was leaning against Mr Malfoy and he was … bereft. Albus was suddenly afraid. He had never seen his father at a loss before. He didn’t know anyone who had.

“We’ll go back to the Ministry. Scorpius’s text said they had news. They’ll have the key. Wipe yourself up, spec-face, you’re all damp.” Mr Malfoy pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to Harry.

Harry blew his nose indelicately. Draco glanced up and met Al’s eyes, a frown started to crease his face. Al shook his head, and moved silently away from the door. He hadn’t seen that. His father was still omnipotent.

He walked quickly and quietly back down the hall before turning and retracing his steps back towards his father and Mr Malfoy while holding a loud imaginary conversation over his earpiece. It was going to be fine, Al told himself. Aunt Hermione had a development; Scorpius had news.


****************************


It was nearly half-past seven by the time they returned to the Ministry. Scorpius kicked himself for knowing that it was actually 7:27pm as the three men walked into the lab. He had cut back his checking to every quarter hour.

Harry was all business as he strode in. “Updates, and make them good. Finland has left me in a foul mood.”

Albus remained by the door, leaning back on the wall as though he needed the support.

Antony Jewkes, head of Draco’s lab team, gave his report first. They had found pine resin and light-yellow sand among the traces from James’s kit. It confirmed the location as Bothnian Bay, but no closer.

Lily broke the discovery of James’s signal, and Scorpius had more information. “He’s in a room with round walls. The light refracts unevenly. It is natural, but none of it is direct, so I couldn’t take a reading on it, but I did get sound traces. I isolated each set, listen.”

He hit the Ministry Network and a sequence of recordings played. Scorpius listed them off as the snippets ran through. “The ocean, a big thudding engine, I’m all but certain it’s a ferry, and a swoosh, swoosh noise that I can’t identify, but we can match it if we have a suspected location, it has some very distinctive minor frequencies.”

Harry nodded and tapped his phone. “Tell Charlie’s teams to focus on ferry lanes, and anywhere that might have a round room. It’s definitely in our Grid One, pull in all the other teams. Stay as hidden as you can.”

He closed the phone and looked at the faces around him. “Good work,” he told them. “Every bit of the puzzle brings us closer.” He turned to his sister-in-law. “Come with me to check on how Ron’s team are going?”

“Of course.”

Hermione’s gentle tone was all Scorpius needed to confirm his suspicion that the Finnish trip had been less than Harry had wanted. He wished they had more news.

Draco draped his arms around him and Lily, giving them a brief hug. “I knew I could trust you both for something good.”

“We’re still not there, Dad,” Scorpius sighed.

“Harry’s right about the puzzle. We’re starting to have enough pieces to see the overall picture. You’re helping.”

“Is Dad all right?” Lily was a small and delicate woman, but she rarely looked it. She did now.

Draco hugged her tightly for a moment. “He will be.” He tapped her nose in an avuncular fashion. “You, young lady, have not had enough to eat today. Since it happens to be my birthday, I have a Victoria sponge and a quite good Battenberg. I believe there may be some additional double cream in the offing.”

Lily laughed. “I’m really not ten anymore, Mr Malfoy.”

“I know.” Draco looked tired. “But it’s been a fairly horrible day and I could do with a quick cheer-up.”

“You two joining us?” Lily looked at Scorpius and Albus.

“In a minute,” Scorpius promised. First, he wanted the news.

He waited until they were gone before he looked up at Albus. “Was it that bad?”

Albus pushed back his hair in that familiar Potter gesture. “I’m not sure. I thought we were getting somewhere, but all we really have is more information about the political situation behind all this, nothing about where James actually is, nothing to help us go in and get him.”

Scorpius nodded. He felt the same. “Maybe it’s true that it’s all adding up to a picture that will work?”

“Maybe.”

“Should we go and have cake?”

Albus shook his head. “I have to get back to the studio before Hugo annexes my office. Tell your dad happy birthday for me.”

Scorpius was not surprised. “I will.”

He had turned and taken a step in the direction of his father’s office before he felt the hand catch his.

He couldn’t look Albus in the eyes straight away, so he looked at his hand instead. It was so pale these days, while he seemed to have acquired a tan somewhere. His father had laughed about that, said it made a change from his old pale and interesting look. The one from his schooldays, when Albus had called him an owl …

Scorpius looked up. “There are over twenty-eight hours left. And the Minister, your aunt and Uncle Ron have spent most of the day making sure there is money in place and a range of territories to offer if it needs to go to negotiation. James will be fine.”

The haunted look did not leave Albus’s face. Scorpius squeezed his hand. “It’s all right,” he whispered.

Albus looked down and nodded. He squeezed back, then let go of Scorpius’s hand. “I have to get back.”

“I’ll see you later.”

Scorpius watched him go. Then lifted his chin and prepared to be excited about cake.


****************************


“Hugo, do you know where … Ah.”

Albus waited patiently outside the door for Catherine Worthing to arrange herself and for Hugo to put his shirt back on.

“Come in,” Catherine sang out after a minute.

“Well, that certainly explains why you seem to be the only anchor we possess and why Hugo never wants to go home,” Al sighed as he walked in.

“Oh as if any of us have lives outside of this studio,” Catherine teased him.

“Get your recorder, you’re taking our lead story for the nine o’clock bulletin.”

“How did it go? Are they closing in?” Hugo couldn’t hold himself back.

Albus didn’t let his smile flicker for an instant. “It’s gone political, but we always knew it would. The Finns have several good new leads, and our people working on this side are getting somewhere, too. Catherine, take notes.”

Albus took a deep breath. “Wizard’s Unwired Network News can announce that the release earlier today of a cruel hoax video purporting to show the assassination of James Potter has been revealed as the work of a discontented young loner. The man, whose identity has been withheld by Aurors, is understood to be a technological specialist – make that an amateur technological specialist – who sought to throw the international diplomatic negotiations for the release of James Potter into disarray.

“As James’s workmates, friends and family, we at Wizard’s Unwired Network News deplore this lone lawbreaker, and can only applaud the swift and diligent actions by Aurors on the Continent and in Britain to apprehend this miscreant.”

“Miscreant?” Catherine raised an elegantly plucked eyebrow.

“You can substitute something similar,” Albus allowed.

“In related news, the Wizarding Federation of Micronesian States, which last year cut all diplomatic ties with Europe, has offered the Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon a territory to meet its conditions on the proviso that their costs can be met.

“This station understands that technology billionaire Percy Weasley, uncle of James Potter, is in discussion with Micronesia and hopes to finalise a proposal in time for tomorrow’s negotiations with the Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon.”

“Is that true?” Catherine was actually smiling.

“Received the text as I was about to Apparate here,” Albus assured her.

“Is Uncle Percy really a billionaire?” Hugo wondered.

Al shrugged. “Close enough if he’s not. And no one will ever get a correction out of Gringotts.”

“You would think we would receive better gifts at Christmas.”

Albus poked his cousin with his wand.

“Has your dad signed off on this all being released? No, bugger that, has my Mum?”

“Trust me, they’ll be fine with this. It’s plausible and it’s a calming option for the Battalion.”

“Do they need calming?”

It was Hugo who spoke, but he and Catherine were both looking at Albus with the same anxious expression.

He smiled. “We’re covering bases, that’s all. Just doing what we can for the team.”

Catherine squeezed his arm. “I’m on it, boss. What about two minutes of filler on other hoaxes.”

Al felt a rush of gratitude. “Run it way down the order, and see if you can introduce a bit of humour. Hugo, call Uncle Percy and see if he can spare us an interview. Tell him to wear his serious glasses, they make him look eminent.”

“Will do. Catherine, see if you can get any footage of that man who was impersonating trolls out in Devon.”

“I’m on it.”

“I’ll be in my office if you two need me.” Albus shut the door behind him, in case they needed a minute or two before they started making their calls.


****************************


“Go home, Lily,” Scorpius ordered, yawning.

“It’s only eleven o’clock.”

“I know, but you’re falling asleep over your scope.”

“So are you.”

“That’s why I am headed off, too.”

The last few hours had been slow. Exactly one piece of useful information had been added to the set already collected, Lily had isolated the tone of a ferry’s horn in the background sound from the second file. The Finns were matching it to the possibilities now.

“Are you coming back with me?” Lily asked.

“I think I’ll go home with Dad. It’s his birthday, after all.”

Lily nodded. “Good idea. I think my Dad’s stopping over at your place, Mum was on the phone again earlier, and she is not very happy with him.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes. Ginny had always had a hair-trigger temper, and although he couldn’t blame her for being on edge, he wished she had learned the control that the rest of her family possessed.

“Stop it,” Lily said, poking him. “Dad won’t let me complain, so you’re certainly not allowed to. Besides, she’s had a horrible year. And as Aunt Hermione says, she was a bit spoilt when she was little, being the only girl. It’s not her fault.”

“You’re the only girl, too,” Scorpius reminded her.

“Yeah, but I was never going to be able to compete with James and Albus for princess status, so I decided to major in tomboy.”

Scorpius couldn’t help laughing. “And you’ve excelled,” he agreed.

“Anyway, goodnight.” She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.

“Night Lils.” He returned the kiss.

“What time in the morning?”

“I’m aiming for six in here. But you sleep a bit later if you need to.”

“Six is good. Do you think Uncle Charlie will be at the Manor when you get there?”

Scorpius shook his head. “It’s dark in the search area for a few hours. He’ll be flying sweeps. We might see him for breakfast.”

“Give him my love.”

“I will.”

Scorpius packed away their instruments for the night, and bid farewell to Antony Jewkes, who was still working, powered solely by coffee, since he swore that the Pepper-up Potion’s steam hurt his ears.

He knocked at his father’s door. “Dad? You ready?”

Draco looked up from his papers. “I will be in five. Can you go and get Harry? We can Portkey from here.”

“Sure.”

Scorpius wondered if his father had been on holidays since the two of them had spent the summer he finished school sailing through the Greek islands. He made a mental note to take Draco on holiday when this was all done.

Harry was in his office again, and raised a hand as Scorpius went to knock. Harry pointed inside the door.

Scorpius poked his head around the corner. There was Albus, asleep on the sofa.

“He still does that head under the pillow thing,” Scorpius muttered.

“Always has, always will,” Harry whispered fondly. “Is it time to go?”

“Yes, Dad says he’ll be ready by the time we get back there.”

“Okay. I’ll just sort the Floo out for Al so he doesn’t have to Apparate home.”

“He can stay with us.”

Scorpius rued his lifelong inability to think before speaking when tired.

Harry’s look seemed mildly surprised. “That would be great. He seems to know what’s happening before I do, so it will save time having him nearby.”

“There is more than enough space in the manor.” He was just being a good host, Scorpius reasoned with himself. Noblesse oblige.

Harry crossed the room to his son. “Albus, Al, wake up. It’s time to go.”

Al rolled onto his stomach and groaned into the pillow. Scorpius had to resist the urge to laugh. He had done that every day at school, and whenever they had stayed over during the holidays. Albus swore that he had been sleep-deprived since birth.

“Come on, we’re staying at the manor. Draco and Scorpius are ready to leave.”

Al sat up suddenly. “We’re what? Mr Malfoy hates me!”

Scorpius decided that this actually did call for noblesse oblige, if he read the sudden slump in Harry’s shoulders correctly. “Hate is too strong a term,” he said breezily. “Was disappointed in some of your choices is more accurate. Shall we pretend the last two minutes never happened?”

Harry grinned at him, while Albus blinked.

“Excellent. Right, as soon as you’re ready, Dad has a Portkey in his office since we are all tired to the point of exhaustion.”

Scorpius walked from the office with a jaunty air, which he almost felt. He knew it was wrong, but there was some small pleasure to be had in the fact that Albus knew he had been censured.

The manor was well-aired and well-lit when they arrived. The house-elves had provided an elegant birthday supper for four in the green drawing room, and prepared two guest rooms. Supper was mostly quiet, save for a trio version of Happy Birthday, to the accompaniment of house-elf on kazoo.

Draco blew out his candles and patted Harry on the shoulder. “I feel hugely confident in that wish,” he assured him. “Come on, you’re in the Viola Room, unless you’d like a slice of cake.”

Harry shook his head. “I’ll take some into work tomorrow. I’m knackered.”

“Scorpius, show Al to his room, will you?”

“I will, good night, Dad.”

“Good night, Son.”

Al and Harry smiled at each other, but that was all. Scorpius had often noticed there was a shorthand between the two. It had driven Lily insane when she had been a child.

“So, would you like a slice of cake? Or bed?” Scorpius held his expression still so that he could pretend those last two words had been a figment of Albus’s over-tired imagination.

He didn’t appear to have noticed. “I’m not very hungry. I can probably find my way to my room if you tell me where it is.”

“Harpsichord room, main wing, three down from the Archimedes study, on the left.”

Albus gave Scorpius a small smile. “It would be lovely if you could show me, thank you so much.”

“Your mother would be thrilled to find that some of those manners have stuck.”

“You are too kind.”

Scorpius resisted the urge to prod Albus with his elbow. Al seemed vaguely surprised not to be prodded.

It was not a terribly long walk to Al’s room. “There are towels in the bathroom, spare robes in the wardrobe, though I had the house-elves drop in a few of my suits and shirts, they should fit you well enough, and I hardly ever wear them. The bell-pull will summon an elf, or you can just yell. Call for Jink, she’s the most Bolshie, you’ll get on well.”

Duty done, Scorpius turned to leave.

“S, wait.” Al’s voice was timid.

He turned back. “What’s up?”

“Thanks.” Al smiled at him. “For everything. You’ve been brilliant and I’ve been a twat, and I won’t forget again.”

“Forget what?” Try as he might, Scorpius couldn’t raise his voice above a whisper.

“What a great friend you are. I know you’d rather be with Lily tonight.”

That again. That hoary old chestnut that Albus had used to console himself after their fight. As if any Potter would do. Scorpius had no time for that tonight.

“Good night, Albus.”

Scorpius swore to himself that it was dirty glasses that made the hallway blur as he strode angrily up it.


****************************


Albus watched him walk away.

For once in his life he was at a complete loss. Certainly he deserved to be walked out on, but he had thought they were getting on well.

Scorpius had stopped, had turned around, was walking back.

He pointed his finger. “You, Albus Potter, are an idiot.”

Al snorted at that. “Yes, I am. But I’m an idiot who’s trying to say sorry.”

Scorpius screwed up his face. “Just shut up for a minute. I am trying to tell you something!”

Al shut up.

Scorpius took a breath. “I cannot believe that you are so stupid,” he began. “I have only ever slept with your sister. Camped on mountainsides, curled up on sofas, bunked in the next bed as we laughed at terrible in-jokes.”

Albus shook his head. That could not be true. Because that would make him the biggest idiot he knew.

And besides, it was wrong. “But at school,” he insisted. “I punched you because you were in love with Lily.”

Scorpius looked at him in amazement. “No you didn’t.”

Al was starting to panic. “Why did you think I hit you?”

“Because I was in love with you.”

Albus forgot all of his words and stood still, blinking.

“You really thought … then?” Scorpius shook his head. “Oh for Merlin’s sake …” Scorpius covered the ground between them, grabbed his arms, pushed him back against the wall, and pressed up against him – hard and strong, except for Scorpius’s mouth, which was soft and hot, and on his.

Albus knew that this couldn’t possibly be happening, but he didn’t care. Every single part of his body felt alive and alert, and as Scorpius’s glasses scratched the brim of his nose, it was all he could do not to laugh with joy.

Scorpius noticed, though, he pulled back a little, and touched the spot of blood with one gentle finger. “I hurt you,” he whispered.

“I don’t care!” Albus did laugh then. And he kissed Scorpius’s jaw, his cheekbone, his mouth, all the while walking backwards with him into the room.

Somehow he managed to undo the buttons of Scorpius’s shirt, at the same time as his was being taken off, and then his legs hit the side of the bed and he let gravity work and took his old friend down with him, keeping contact with his mouth, his chest, his hips.

“Wait.” Scorpius reached up and took off his glasses.

Albus stopped his hand. “Leave them on.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you in them.”

Scorpius grinned. “Are you sure it’s not because you’re hoping to access a news feed?”

Al shook his head, and put the glasses back where they belonged. “Because I want you to see everything,” he told him.

Scorpius kissed him again. “I don’t need to see you to know what you look like,” he murmured.

Albus decided that he could probably climb a mountain for that voice. Would probably climb one, given circumstances, and be happy to. And … “Fuck.”

“Yes.”

“No.” Albus sat up. “I mean fuck.”

Scorpius looked up at him, confused.

“I know where James is.”


****************************


Al had always been a fast runner, so Scorpius had to put on a burst of speed to pass him, and lead from the front. They were still buttoning up their shirts as they reached Harry’s room. Scorpius knocked loudly, but there was no answer.

He pushed the door ajar. “Mr Potter?”

There was no one there, and the bathroom door was open and dark.

Shrugging his shoulders, he set off again a few doors up the hallway to his father’s room. It, too, was empty.

They found them in the West Library, Scotches in hand.

“I know where James is!” Al announced without preamble.

Harry’s glass fell to the carpet.

“S, can you switch on the Network? I can feed the files from my phone, but I need a bigger display.”

“Here, Albus.” Draco moved the bottle from the card table beside him and tapped it with his wand. A Network display crept over its veneer.

“Now watch.” Albus flicked a file from his phone to the Network with his wand.

It was James, the first of the hostage files.

“It’s the fourth of June and I am in an undisclosed location. I’m being held by members of the Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon, who have a list of simple demands that they require to be met before I am released.”

“See how he’s tapping his hand on his thigh?” Al pointed at the small figure. “I thought it was just nervousness, he does that when he’s anxious, usually it’s out of shot. But see, here …”

“… No less than one-hundred square miles of habitable territory, consisting of either a single land mass or adjacent islands.”

“It changes on ‘islands’.”

Albus reversed and played the section through again. He was right. An erratically paced straight up-and-down jiggle was replaced for that one word with a side-to-side wave. It was small, not significant enough a gesture to attract the attention of anyone who did not know James intimately.

“Al?” Harry turned to his son.

“It’s our joke, Dad,” Al explained. “That’s his gesture for irony. When he started doing stories in Finland he would always complain that the Finns are terrible at irony. And they are, but they know it. They made him have a signal, so they would know when he was being ironic. That’s the signal. Look, he uses it again in the second file.”

Al switched the feeds. Sure enough the same nervous tapping was there, with a momentary shift.

“Both the despicable murder of Marti Mannerheim, and the crude ersatz execution of James Potter show clear signs of hailing” – there it was – “from the Ministry.”

Albus’s eyes shone as he looked at the three of them. “Island, hailing, irony. He’s on Hailuoto Island. There’s a Muggle settlement there, it has an abandoned lighthouse, there’s a wind generator right nearby.”

“The whooshing sound,” Scorpius realised

Al nodded.

Scorpius couldn’t stop grinning. “You’ve become incredibly smart all of a sudden.”

Al began to laugh. Harry joined in, then turned and grabbed his son into a tight hug.

Draco reached for his wand and phone. “I’ll call Charlie.”

“Can they get him out tonight?”

Draco looked at his watch. He shook his head. “It’s well after two there. The sun will be up soon. Not enough time to mount a sneak attack tonight. It will have to be daytime, or probably better to wait until the sun sets again. There’s still a two-hour window when it’s mostly dark before the deadline expires.”

Scorpius nodded, calculating. “But the negotiations would have to be strung out for ten hours to make that window.”

“Yes,” his father admitted. “And that runs the risk of everything falling in a heap and James being killed.”

“How do you decide?”

Harry let go of Albus, with a kiss to his forehead. “We bring everyone in,” he stated. “All the teams, all the operatives. Even the Finns we can bring over without too much attention. Then we come up with the best strategy, and that’s the one we follow.”

Scorpius glanced between his father and Harry. They were both wearing that look, the one that he and Albus had loved when they were boys. Things crumbled before that look, and people quailed.

Draco kissed him briefly on the forehead. “We’re going back in to the Ministry. You two get some sleep. Charlie will probably pop by for breakfast around five, I’ll try and join him.”

“I could come,” Scorpius offered.

His father shook his head. “Sleep for a bit. One of us should have a functional brain in the morning.”

“I should go into the studio,” Al muttered.

Harry glanced from him to Scorpius. “No,” he said. “You should stay here. You can’t screen any of this. Get a few hours’ sleep and we’ll have an exclusive release ready for your morning bulletin when you get in.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Harry and Draco exchanged a look, and nodded. “We’ll see you later in the day,” Harry said in parting.

Scorpius listened to their feet walking up the hallway.

“They know, don’t they?” Al asked him.

“Of course they do.”

“It’s because you have some of the blood from my nose on your cheek.”

Scorpius conceded this was probably true. “That and we put on the wrong shirts.”

“Good point. We should take them off again.”

This time, both of them put on a turn of speed as they ran back down the hallway.


****************************


Albus had always woken up five minutes before he set his alarm. Usually that involved holding a pillow over his face and cursing the world until his phone started shouting at him to get up.

Not this morning.

Al opened his eyes. A warm expanse of light-gold flesh met them. He smiled as he looked down Scorpius’s lean and muscled chest, and at the arm that crossed it, with its darker wrist and hand that ended curled around Albus’s own.

“Morning.”

The word breezed through Albus’s hair. He looked up into soft grey eyes. “Morning,” he replied.

“It’s not quite five, we don’t have to get up just yet,” Scorpius offered.

Albus grinned. One of the things he had most missed over the years had been Scorpius’s excellent plans.

“If we have a house-elf bring us toast and coffee, then we really only need about eight minutes to shower and dress,” he suggested.

“I was thinking we could take longer in the shower.”

Albus’s grin broadened. The excellent plans were well and truly back. They reached for each other.

There was a rap at the door.

Albus dropped his head onto Scorpius’s shoulder, and wondered if he really needed a brother, after all, given how butch Lily could be.

“Are you two awake?” The door creaked open a touch and his Uncle Charlie’s voice boomed in, “Because I have breakfast ready and we need to be in at the Ministry, soon. Kingsley and Hermione are running a briefing at six and both your dads want to see you before then.”

“Thanks, Charlie, we’ll be there in a few minutes,” Scorpius called out.

“You have ten,” Charlie said, and closed the door.

Albus looked up. “That’s enough for two minutes extra in the shower …”

Scorpius’s face crinkled into a smile. “It took you longer than that by yourself when we were back at school if I recall correctly.”

Albus pinched the arm that held him. “I didn’t have your posh body washes there. It was all soap and hard water.”

Scorpius raised one of his feet, then used the leverage to flip Al over onto his back, holding him there bodily. “There’s more than body wash in there,” he promised, and bent to kiss Albus deeply. Then he sat back and smiled invitingly.

Al watched Scorpius’s face move away from his with mild regret. “Hang on …” he reached onto the bedside cabinet and retrieved Scorpius’s glasses. He popped them into place. “That’s better.”

“I take it we’re doomed if I pop in my lenses?”

“Oh, utterly. Hang on again.” He reached up and activated the Unwired ticker across the bottom of the lenses. “There, perfect.”

Scorpius shook his head, laughing, and reached down to slap Al’s arse. “Shower, now, we have nine minutes.”

Al scooted out from under him and ran to the bathroom. “We don’t need to shave,” he called back to his pursuer. “And I can do my shoes and socks over breakfast. And cufflinks.”

And he had planned to say more, but he was caught, and there were only eight-and-a-half minutes left.


****************************


“And the Muggle grocers confirm that the party letting the lighthouse has been keeping to the tower and the connected pilothouse and not moving away from them. He says that only one of the party comes to deal with him, the others are never seen in the village. The Squib who gathered the intel works on the ferry, so there’s no danger of him having been uncovered by our suspects, he’s a regular visitor to the island.

“This all explains why Charlie’s team could not find a Disillusionment field, there never was one. They were relying on the fact that we would never expect them to be within a Muggle settlement. It’s quite clever, really.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Kingsley Shacklebolt stood up and resumed control of the meeting. “Hermione, if you could fill us in on where we stand with the territorial negotiations, and then Mika, if you could give some background of the island’s geography before we outline the mission?”

Both figures nodded to him, and Hermione stood up to speak. Scorpius noticed that she seemed tired, but still buoyed by that nervous energy he associated with her.

“There are three practical possibilities to meet the demand for territory. The first comes from the United States, who pulled out of our extradition treaties two years ago when we wouldn’t guarantee their demands. They have suggested one of their Pacific territories that was used for weapons testing last century.

“Aside from the obvious negatives in the possibility of Dark Magic traces, I strongly suspect the Battalion will refuse this offer because it comes from the Americans. They may not have signed off on any treaties, but our relationship is still strong and they are not at all known for a policy of non-intervention, which seems to be a core desire.

“The second option is the Gilbert Islands, which are currently for sale. The Muggle population shifted from these islands twelve years ago. The Wizarding Federation of Micronesian States has put their support behind the deal, it’s one-hundred-and-eight square miles, and the price is a very reasonable million Galleons, which Percy Weasley has offered to pay.

“There are two downsides to this possibility, the first is that the Wizarding Federation of Micronesian States has withdrawn from the International Statutes of Secrecy. They are actually just attempting to leverage demands for aid, but the Battalion could read this as a pro-Muggle stance. Secondly, the reason that the Muggle population shifted is that climate change has seen twenty years since the islands recorded significant rainfall. Though they do have excellent reefs for diving.

“The final option is the Iberian territory being offered by the Georgians. Ron spent yesterday putting this together. While they have no formal treaty relations with Britain, there is a longstanding record of cordial diplomacy between our nations. They offer a territory of two-hundred square miles, with a guaranteed exclusion zone around that, in exchange for inclusion in the next round of Protected Magical Items Trade discussions. Which could be worth around three million Galleons annually to them.

“On the positive side, it is an excellent piece of land, and the Georgians have rich natural resources that Europe would benefit from. On the negative, they have a strong anti-Muggle movement already, which the Battalion could inflame.”

Scorpius watched Al all through the presentation. He was entranced, making notes into his phone as his aunt spoke. He genuinely seemed to enjoy the politics. Which meant they would probably need to live in London. He stopped himself before he planned out the rest of their lives together – probably best to make it through the first week without killing each other before he got too carried away.

“Which do you think they’ll go for?” Draco asked.

“Georgia,” Hermione replied decisively. “They’d be fools not to. And we’ll need to hold out for Micronesia for as long as we can, to give the Aurors time to get into place. Al, I need you to start the main morning bulletin with news that the Georgian Minister has called into question our competence in dealing with a group who are clearly a legitimate political organisation. He’s said that he’s happy for you to quote him as saying: ‘The British are all-too-fond of tossing about the term “terrorist” when organisations act independently of their governmental desires, even when their actual acts are less violent than those endorsed by Wizarding Britain herself.’ He’s not available for an interview, but Georgian State Unwired is sending you some file footage you can use.”

“Cheers, I’ll see if we can work up an editorial on our troubled past relationships during the Death Eater years.”

“Good, Al. Thanks, Kingsley.” Hermione sat down, and the Minister nodded at Mika, who stood up and took her place.

“Marjaniemi is a small village, mostly birdwatchers and fishermen. The lighthouse is very close to the village, and the old pilothouse, which the Battalion is also using, was once a hotel. It is a very flat area, with a broad beach, and the buildings have many windows. A few years ago, the lighthouse had a studio added halfway up the stairs. We believe this is where they are holding James.

“In the daylight, I do not think we could mount an attack without risking James’s life. But we can move people onto the island. I can take two or three English with my younger Aurors and we can dress them in cycling clothes and give them mountain bicycles to ride about. They will look like the other young people, especially if there are young women in the group. It is not unusual for campers to stay beside the beach, so that will put that group into place. If you could please choose people who know Muggle drinking songs, I think it will be enough.

“Charlie’s team has flown the area thoroughly at night, and he has not yet been spotted, because they are not looking high enough. Our belief is that if we Apparate to Oulunsalo and fly by broomstick across the bay shortly after dark, we can come in on the tail of Charlie’s flight wing, but at a lower altitude. They will have their dragons flame, showing that they are in a search pattern, which will distract the captors long enough for our teams to close in, stun them and rescue James.”

“How do we know they won’t just kill James at the sight of the dragons?” Harry asked evenly.

Mika shrugged. “It is a possibility, but it is unlikely. They will know that we are out looking, they will expect to see something. Charlie’s dragonriders will have been seen elsewhere, we can be sure of that. But the dragons fly too high to see individuals when they are in a search pattern. They are looking for large areas of Disillusionment. We know there are none. They do not know that we know this.”

Mika sat back down. Kingsley looked magisterially at the thirty or so witches and wizards packed into the conference room.

“So, our options are, settle the demands well before the deadline and risk constructing an unstable state to our east, or spin out the negotiations for the entire afternoon and put all out hopes on the success of the raid. Harry, he’s your son, you give your opinion first.”

Harry got to his feet slowly, but his gaze was steady as he looked around the room. Scorpius glanced at Albus, he was holding his breath.

“We cannot risk the Battalion. They are too much of an unknown quantity. Their members are not unified, their organisation is not cohesive, they were formed under the wing of a man who committed mass-murder, it’s too much of a risk. James himself described their demands as outrageous, I think at this time he would be hoping for rescue, but not certain it will come. As would any of us in his place.

“I vote that we focus on the raid”

Ron Weasley looked at him sharply. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Harry nodded. “It’s the only real option, isn’t it, Hermione?”

The Deputy Minister nodded. “We’ve already heard from the rest of the European Wizarding governments that Britain would be censured or expelled from the Union if we collaborated to construct a rogue state. We could do it, we have the money, you’ve made the connections, but it would have terrible consequences.”

“I agree,” the Minister said sadly.

Scorpius watched the look that passed between the four of them. He wished he had thought to sit beside Al, who was looking lost at this moment.

“Any dissent?” Kingsley asked the room.

No one looked up, but no one spoke, either. Scorpius was suddenly glad that his work was not here in this place of pragmatism and compromise.

Harry stood up. “I’ll go and let Ginny know what’s happening,” he announced.

“Dad,” Albus stood up, too.

“Sit down, both of you.” Scorpius saw his father standing up out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help a smile at the tone in Draco’s voice. “I’ll tell her, she already hates me. She can think it’s my fault.”

Albus shook his head. “No, listen, you’re playing it wrong. What you want to tell her is that the government is trying to force the Georgian deal, even though the Georgians are not happy with us. Tell her it could fall apart at any time. Tell her the safe deal is the Gilbert Islands and Uncle Percy’s money. I can have her appealing to the court of public opinion while my journalists confuse the issue with arguments in favour of the peace-loving Georgians and against the inept British Ministry. The Finns will pick up our feeds. It will give us several hours of looking as though things are happening, as though the delays are for a reason.”

Scorpius was watching Al’s hands. He had them stuffed into his pockets. If you looked closely, you could see the slight tremor.

“That’s very good, Al.” It was Harry who spoke. Scorpius watched as Albus’s hands stopped trembling, came out of their pockets, relaxed.

Kingsley stood up. “That’s our plan, people. I want all of you briefing your sections and ready to move within the half hour. Get me the list of Aurors who are headed out. Mika, can you organise the Muggle shopping?”

The meeting broke up into small groups of people chatting urgently. Scorpius felt his hand patted, it was his father. “You all right?” he asked.

He nodded. “I’m meant to be meeting Lily in the lab.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth carrying on there now that we have the location,” Draco mused.

“She doesn’t know yet,” Scorpius reminded him.

“Of course. Where will the two of you spend the day?”

Scorpius shrugged. “Lils will probably want to be with her mum. I should probably go home, keep out of everyone’s way.”

“Whatever you think best.”

Scorpius saw Albus and Harry walking out of the room. “Dad, I …”

“Go.”

Harry had just bid Albus goodbye when Scorpius finally made it out the door. The younger man had turned back towards the conference room, and met Scorpius’s eyes with a smile.

“I was just coming back to find you.”

Scorpius felt a mirroring smile on his own face. “Good.”

“Where are you off to now?”

“Down to the lab. You’re off to the studio?”

“Yes. You could join me.”

“I’d distract you.”

Al’s smile broadened into a grin at that.

“Come on, walk me down to the lab before you go.”

“Okay.”

They managed the first thirty steps in silence, and with only one accidental brushing of shoulders.

“That was impressive last night,” Scorpius said, then nearly walked into a wall when he heard what he was saying.

Al was too busy laughing to make any comments.

“I meant remembering the images well enough to find James’s code.”

“Well, that’s deflating,” Albus chortled. Then he was more serious. “It’s what I do, I see images,” he said.

“You know how you have thousands of plants in your head? And all the science and tech that goes with studying them? I have images. I can call them up, perfectly each time. Once it’s in my head, I can see it clearly ever after.”

“Oh.” Scorpius was impressed, but also a little worried “So when you remember …”

Albus stopped and took both of Scorpius’s hands. “When I remember breaking your nose, I see you there on the floor, looking up at me. And you didn’t hate me, you weren’t angry, you were just hurt and confused. And I was so furious.”

“I tried to be angry,” Scorpius confessed. “But being confused took a lot of energy.” He rubbed the back of Albus’s knuckles with his thumbs. “Besides, I think you should concentrate on more recent images.”

Al looked up at him and grinned again, which made Scorpius feel like a sapling with spring rushing through it. “You really can’t do that when we have things to do,” he whispered.

Al dropped his hands. “I’ll walk you to the lab.” He feigned a serious expression. “We can resume discussions early tomorrow morning after the return of my brother.”

“That would be mutually advantageous,” Scorpius agreed. “I’ll have my people set a time with your people.”

“Excellent.”

They were still smiling when they reached the lab. “Coming in?” Scorpius invited.

Al shook his head. “I need to have the first bulletin ready for seven. I should be off.”

“All right.”

Al started to raise a hand, but Scorpius stepped back. “I’m not turning around to look, but my guess is that Lily is already in the lab and looking out through the windows.”

Al’s eyes darted left. “You would be right. I will be nodding seriously at you and looking as though this has been a very serious conversation on serious topics.”

“Go and help save your brother, you idiot.”

“Come and see me through the day so I don’t go mad dealing with my family.”

“You’d be more compliant mad, you’re on your own.”

“See you.”

“See you.”

Scorpius watched as Al reluctantly turned and left. When he was out of sight he spun on his heel and headed into the laboratory, which was empty aside from Lily and Antony.

“I have news,” he announced.

Lily’s eyes were huge with wonder. “Yes,” she agreed. “I can see that.”


****************************


Albus had never lied to his mother before. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Of course he had, but they were the standard lies every child tells its parent: my room is clean, I’ve done my homework, I’m not having sex until I’m married.

Never an organised deceit like this.

“Unfortunately, what seems to be happening is that our Ministry and the Georgians are being distracted into a game of diplomatic tit for tat. They’re not focussing on James anymore.”

Ginny looked worn out, but was buzzing with nervous energy. “What can I do, Al?”

“Come into the studio and make a plea for the Ministry to stop debating and just bring James home. Uncle Percy is going to repeat his offer on screen, so the Battalion know it’s there and it’s serious.”

His mother’s face grew hopeful. “Is that all? I can do that now.”

Albus nodded encouragingly. “Good, Catherine Worthing has asked if she can do the interview. You’ll like her Mum, she’s nice. Why don’t you go and put on your green suit? Or the blue dress robes, you look pretty in both of those.”

“Oh Al, my hair, my face, I’m a mess.”

“That’s all right, we have people at the station who can fix you up. You’re still beautiful, Mum, you just haven’t been sleeping.”

“I’ll go and change.”

Albus watched her go. Most of his family were back in the kitchen, he could go and join them. He pulled out his phone. “Scorpius Malfoy.”

Scorpius’s image flickered into view a few seconds later. “Al? Where are you?”

“I’m at home. I only have a minute. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Was I a good friend before I went mental?”

“Yes, what’s going on?”

“And last night – that’s planned as an ongoing thing?”

“Yes.” Scorpius looked worried now. “What’s going on?”

“I’m taking my cynicism and ability to manipulate others to new levels.”

“It’s necessary,” Scorpius reminded him.

“I still feel like shit. Will you be around this afternoon?”

“At the manor. Just call. I can come to you.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Al?”

Scorpius’s image was looking at him gently, smiling. “It’s going to be all right.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you later.” The transmission ended.

Albus took a deep breath. “Mum?” he called up the hallway towards her room. “Do you want me to go and ask Gran if she’d like to come, too?”

~~~~

The studio was more full of Weasleys than usual.

“I’ve got the second break coming out of Helsinki!” Hugo shouted.

“Catherine!” Albus yelled.

Catherine was already running to her anchor desk.

“Five-second delay,” Al barked. “Have commentary ready in case we need to cut suddenly. Charles, have you found that footage from Great Wizarding Dive Holidays yet?”

“Yes, and I have two experts in rain production on their way in.”

“Good work.”

“Albus?” It was his Uncle Percy. “Can I have a minute of screen time? I’ve decided to add another hundred-thousand Galleons to the ransom.”

His eyes looked so hopeful. Albus took a deep breath. “You’re a champion, Uncle Percy, but don’t you think you should make the offer through the Ministry now that the negotiations are underway?”

Percy shrugged. “You said yourself, they’re unwieldy and hypocritical. We can get our message out directly here.”

“It’s just that now might be a bad time. And we don’t know who we’re dealing with, really. If they turn out to be a violent group, that money could be used to fund acts of aggression. We should wait to hear from Dad, or Aunt Hermione.”

“Albus,” Percy had his uncle voice on, “look at their chief negotiator, he seems eminently reasonable.”

On the Unwired display, the Finn had just nodded to the cameras outside the negotiation rooms, on his way out of the meeting for a few minutes. He wore a plain black robe, and had a conservative haircut.

“But he goes by the name Mr X.”

“Al …”

“Give it a few hours. If the negotiations are still stalled tonight, then we can run with it.”

Percy had not amassed a fortune by chance. “All right,” he agreed.

Hermione was speaking on the display now. “… are progressing at a steady pace. Both sides have indicated that they are prepared to take the full time allowed to bring this matter to a successful conclusion. Finland has also indicated to Britain that it will be distancing itself from a proposed movement within the European Wizarding Union to seek Britain’s expulsion if a territory is settled on the Battalion. For their part, the members of the Vapaaehtoiset Battaillon have agreed that two of the three territories offered could be acceptable to them, and we are confident of a successful conclusion to this discussion.”

“Deputy Minister, what do you have to say to the voices calling for your resignation and for the resignation of this government over your willingness to negotiate with terrorists?”

Hermione smiled tightly. “I say to those anonymous voices that Britain will do everything possible to ensure the safety of its citizens, and that British journalists will be supported in whatever arena they find themselves working.”

“But would the Ministry be going to such efforts if the journalist in question were not Harry Potter’s son, in fact, your nephew?”

“The Ministry would go to these lengths for any of our citizens caught up in a political conflict anywhere in the world. If you will excuse me, I have a debriefing.”

The journalist attempted to ask another question, and was silenced with the death glare that Albus had spent his entire adult life attempting to emulate. But his aunt delivered it with vigour. She didn’t seem perturbed, her hands weren’t tapping on her files as she walked away – she wasn’t anxious.

“The talks are going well.”

“What?” Percy was still beside him.

Al looked around. “Sorry, I said that the talks are going well. You can tell from Aunt Hermione’s body language.”

“Well, that’s good. We should tell your mother.”

“You go and tell her, I have to pop out for a little while.”

Percy looked surprised. “Now?”

“I’m following up a lead.”

Percy tapped his nose. “Say no more. I’ll go and talk to Ginny. She’ll be thrilled. She’s very proud of you, you know.”

Albus thought it best if he didn’t speak just then.

Once Percy was out of his sight, Al chased down Hugo. “I need you to take over for a while.”

“Now?”

“Now. I have to go and chase down a few leads.”

“Al, I can do that. You stay here, this is the biggest story of the year.”

Albus shook his head. “Private contacts, could all be nothing, could be something big. I want you to keep going with what we have. If news breaks out of Helsinki, cover it, but do not let Uncle Percy or Mum near a camera. Nor George.”

Hugo frowned. “George owns the station.”

“Hex him if you have to. I mean it, your mum will kill us if we let any of them get involved further.”

“Al …”

“Your mum will kill us. With her little hands.”

Hugo nodded. There was only one member of the family that they were truly afraid of when everything boiled down to it.

“I’ll be back. No changes till I am, okay?”

“Yeah, all right. Al?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not hiding anything bad are you?” Hugo looked like the little boy he had been a decade ago.

Albus hugged him briefly. “Nah. All fine. Just looking for the edge to the story, you know?”

Hugo grinned confidently at that. Albus left before he had to lie to anyone else he loved.

~~~~

“Mr Malfoy?” Al knocked tentatively at the door.

It opened by itself, to reveal both Draco and Al’s father in the Malfoy Ministry office. “Come in, Albus. Your father and I are drinking to excess. Care to join us?”

“No, thanks, I’m fine. Dad? I thought you were in Helsinki.”

“Kingsley wouldn’t let me go,” Harry said, with just the slightest slur.

“I think I see something exploding outside, if you two will excuse me.” Draco stood up and walked carefully from the room.

“I tried to ring you, but your phone was switched off, so I called your office and they said you were here.” Al sat down on the edge of the sofa, beside his father.

Harry sighed. “I have nothing to do but wait for the next seven hours. Damned if I’m going to spend them all sober.”

“Have you heard from Mika?”

“Yes, he says everyone is in place, it’s all going well so far. One puncture for the cycle team which was fixed using Muggle methods, apparently having to read the instructions in the puncture kit is very realistic.”

“That’s good.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be off securing another Flooey.”

Albus snorted. “Don’t particularly care about that at the moment, what with worrying that you’re likely to go spare, James could not come back and Mum could kill me.”

“Your mother won’t kill you, Albus.”

“She might kill one of us when she finds out what we’ve done.”

Harry reached over and pulled his son to his side, and held him there with one strong arm. “I will tell Ginny what we have done and why we did it as soon as we can do that without jeopardising your brother. And if she’s angry, she can take it out on me. She should be proud of you, I know I am.”

Al let the warmth of his father’s embrace warm him for a moment before he asked the question he needed to. “But what if it doesn’t work? Dad, I know James is your favourite …”

Albus felt himself suddenly clutched to his father’s chest. “Is that what you think? Oh Al, is that really what you think?”

And Albus couldn’t speak, then, nor for a few minutes afterwards. He tried to be subtle about wiping away his tears, but that just made Harry chuckle.

“Here.” His father pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over.

Albus restored himself to manly stoicism.

“Do you want to stay for a drink?”

Al shook his head. “I think I’d just be in the way. I’m still not sure that Mr Malfoy likes me.”

“He’s resigning himself to the fact he may have to.”

Al snorted a laugh in a particularly inelegant fashion. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know?”

“Your mother, your grandparents, possibly Kingsley if he wasn’t paying attention in the meeting this morning. Although given your Uncle Ron picked up on it, I wouldn’t lay money on that.”

“I had a job offer from Bermuda last year, maybe I should look into that.”

“Are you headed back to the studio?”

“Not just yet.”

“Say hello to Scorpius for me.”

Al smiled at his father. “I will.”


****************************


Scorpius had nearly finished his letter when he heard footsteps behind him. Since there were no house-elves fussing, it could mean only one of two people, and Charlie Weasley had never slipped his hands inside Scorpius’s shirt and kissed his neck.

“Hello you. I thought you were going to call.”

Albus didn’t look up from Scorpius’s neck. “I just needed to get away for a little while. I have to go back in a few minutes.”

“All right.” Scorpius ran his hands up Albus’s arms. “How many minutes are a few?”

Al kissed the top of his head and moved away. “Too few, I’m afraid. What are you up to?”

Scorpius was too slow to stop Al snatching up the letter and starting to read. “Reading private correspondence,” he replied ruefully.

“Love letter?” Albus teased. He glanced over the neat black script, then looked up, confused. “Scorpius, this is from your godfather. I never knew you had a godfather. Who signs themselves just S? What does he do? Where does he live?”

Scorpius gently took the letter back and placed it under a book. “He is an old friend of my father’s, and very, very averse to publicity. He lives with a charming young man in Wales and designs magnificent gardens for Wizards and Muggles alike. Every Christmas he plays the Dame in the local Muggle panto. You’d hate him.”

“You’re defending him to me, I loathe him.”

“Good. You may never meet, because he would despise you.”

“I’m glad we cleared this up.”

“Why are you here?”

Al’s shoulders slumped. Scorpius stood and kissed him in one fluid movement. “Are you all right? Is James all right?”

Albus nodded, and kissed him back. “I just needed to get away.”

“Of course.”

“You’re taking my clothes off.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not going to work with the few minutes part of the plan.”

“No, there is a scheduling conflict there. But you seem very tense.” Scorpius winked as he moved his hands to Albus’s belt.

Al caught those hands and shook his head regretfully. “I can’t, I really can’t.”

Scorpius nodded. He pulled Al’s shirt back into place and started doing up the buttons. “Later,” he said.

“Later,” Al agreed.

And Scorpius left it at that. How much later really depended on whether or not James Potter was still alive at the end of the day.

“There, you look completely businesslike again.”

Albus tucked his shirt in, and reached for his tie and jacket. He piled them neatly on the desk beside them. Scorpius watched Al’s hands as he smoothed the wool flannel and the strip of silk, and he concentrated on not saying anything. Albus looked up at him.

“If I need to, can I stay with you?”

Scorpius caught hold of him and held him. “Yes,” he murmured into Al’s hair. “Yes. Of course. Always. You always could.”

Al stayed there for a long moment. With a press of lips to the side of Scorpius’s face, he moved back. “I have to go. I’ll come back when we know.”

Scorpius nodded. “I’ll be here.”


****************************


“Oh thank Merlin!” Hugo came running through the studio towards Albus.

“I hope whatever that was was important, because your mother is about to kill your father if she can find him, and all hell is breaking loose in Helsinki, and Uncles George and Percy are both threatening to disown me and I was counting on them funding my retirement.”

Albus patted his cousin on the head. “Deep breaths, Hugo. I’ll deal with the family, you grab Charles and Catherine and call in every ex-Wizengamot member who’s not barking mad that you can find. I want you to lead the next bulletin with negotiation tactics, why both sides would be choosing this moment to walk away for half an hour in order to appear stronger when they go back. Bring in the Muggle Studies woman they used to have at school for those interminable lectures, she had some Northern Ireland blather that she went on at length about that was like this … Starmount? Stormfront? She’ll know.”

“Is it all okay, Al?”

Albus looked at him squarely. “It is. I swear to you, it is. Now can you do it?”

Hugo nodded, smiled, and was gone.

Albus walked through the studio and down the long hallway to his office, resisting the urge to drag out his steps.

His mother met him at the door. “Oh, Al! Thank Merlin! I was so worried! You have to do something! It’s all going wrong!”

Albus put an arm around her gently and walked her back to his chair. “It’s all right Mum, it’s all part of what they expected.”

Lily appeared at his elbow with a glass of water. “Here, Mum,” she murmured.

Ginny ignored her. “What who expected?”

“The Ministry.”

“Ours or theirs?”

“Both, Mum, they’re working together.”

Ginny sat back, and looked at him coldly. “What have you done, Albus?”

“Mum, don’t snap at Al.” Lily glanced at him, loyal as always.

“It’s all right, Lils. Mum, you need to go home, and you need to swear to me that you will say nothing to anyone, not even Hugo, and that you will stay off the Network. There is an operation in place to pull James out and it is well underway and anything you do or say now will put him in incredible danger and could kill a couple of dozen Aurors.”

“Was this your father’s idea?”

“No, Mum, it was mine.”

Ginny stood up, and took Lily’s hand. “Don’t come home, Albus. I’ll let you know when I can bear to look at you again.”

Lily squeezed Al’s shoulder with her spare hand. “I’ll sit on her,” she promised.

There was a very long moment of silence after they had left. It was Molly Weasley who broke it. “Albus, look at me. Do you really know what you are doing here?”

He looked directly into his grandmother’s eyes, which were hard and canny beneath their nannadom. He nodded. “I do. It’s the only real chance James has.”

“That’s rubbish!” Percy exploded. “The Battalion are more than happy to take my money and go away.”

“And what guarantee do we have that they’ll leave James behind? Or that they won’t just grab the next high-profile victim they find? Or worse, with that level of funding they could afford to attack more than individuals.”

“Stop shouting!” Molly’s voice rang out above theirs.

Percy spoke calmly, then. “I do not like the idea of trusting the Ministry on this. They have failed too often in the past.”

Albus nodded in sympathy. “If it was the Ministry, I wouldn’t. But it’s Dad, and Aunt Hermione, and Uncle Ron. I’m trusting them. And I am trusting myself to know what James would want. I truly believe that this is the only way.”

Albus counted four long breaths before Percy nodded.

Molly stood up and gathered her knitting. “Come on, Arthur, boys. Lily can’t manage Ginny on her own.”

Albus bit his lip to stop it from trembling as his family filed out the door. His Gran was the last to leave, she stopped beside him first, and craned up to kiss his cheek. “You’re a good boy, Albus. And you’re the smartest of my grandchildren, though you must never mention that to Rose. Ginny never really understood what it was like, but I know that sometimes you have to make the hard decisions. I’ll talk to her. She doesn’t really mean it.”

“I love you Gran,” Albus whispered.

“I love you, too, dear. We all do.”

He relaxed just a little. Molly was nearly out the door when she turned back one last time. She winked at him. “And when James is safely home, Lily tells me that you have news.”

“Goodbye, Gran.”

Five minutes passed before Hugo came looking for him. He seemed startled to find the office all-but empty. “What did you say?”

Al shrugged. “Mum started to have a conniption, Gran thought it was best they all went home.”

“Good-oh. Can I steal you? Catherine’s starting to panic about her editorial.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll come through with you.”


****************************


Scorpius could not remember the last time that he had Side-along Apparated his father. He knew this was the first time that Harry had come, too.

“I just thought that we were starting to be a bit too drunk for the Ministry and that we would be more comfortable at home,” his father told him in carefully enunciated syllables.

“And so you will,” he agreed, steering them both into his father’s private study. “Until they rescue James and Harry has to be reunited with him whilst in an alcoholic stupor, which no matter how charitably Al’s cameraman shoots the footage, is going to look bad.”

“Ah ha!” His father extricated a small bottle from his inner pocket and flourished it. “I have Sobering Potion! Which makes one sober!”

“You have clearly planned well. And I will now move it to the bookcase, which makes one think the bottle will survive the next hour.”

Harry looked up at him suddenly. “When does the sun set?”

Scorpius knew he did not mean over Wiltshire. “Seventy minutes. They’ll let us know as soon as they can.”

Harry nodded.

“Whisky!” declared Draco. “Fire, Muggle, Scotch and Irish. We will compare!”

Scorpius closed the door behind him. He wanted to stay. He wanted to call Albus. He wanted to Apparate to Bothnian Bay and climb onto the back of a dragon. He sat down and wrote up his field notes instead. At a few minutes past ten, he came back and stood outside the study door. He could hear footsteps, and his father’s voice.

“Here, Harry, drink this. It’s nearly time.”

It was twenty-three minutes before he heard the ring of his father’s phone. The voice that boomed out was unmistakeable. “Merlin, Harry, do you ever turn your phone on? We have him, he’s safe, a few bruises, but he’s fine, he’s here.”

“Oh God, Charlie …”

“Dad? Dad, are you there?”

The door in front of Scorpius opened. His father stepped out. “Come on.” He let his father lead him away towards the kitchens. “Harry will let Al know,” Draco assured him. “I finally feel like cake.”

“Me, too, Dad. Me too.”

~~~~

Draco had headed back to the study with half a Victoria sponge by the time Albus arrived. Scorpius was in his bedroom, scultping the remains of his piece into a tiny scale model of Ben Nevis when he heard the footsteps running through the manor.

“Al, here!” he called, and was barrelled into a moment later.

Scorpius felt himself picked up, and hastily put back down. “Safe, sound and just needing to be fully checked out for curses by the Finnish Unspeakables before they bring him home! Aunt Hermione’s organised a Portkey straight to Dad’s place, and he’ll be going straight there!”

“Excellent!”

“They tell me my Dad is hiding here with yours.”

“This is true.”

“I should tell him I’m here,” Al said, with a slight hesitation.

“Yes, you should.”

Al’s eyes sparkled. “Except the minute he knows I’m here, then I’ll need to sit and celebrate with him, rather than with you.”

“Yes, you would.”

“So it would make more sense if you were to go and see if it looked as though he needed me, or if he was about to head off home, and then if he was comfortable and not going anywhere for a little while, then I could just take a small amount of time to share my personal joy over the recovery of my brother with the other person I’ve recovered in the last few days.”

Scorpius laughed. “You’re outrageous.”

Albus grinned.

There was no point arguing, really. “All right, I’ll do it.”

The study door was open a touch, and Scorpius could hear laughter as he came closer. His father was speaking, and he could hear the clink of glasses again.

“And I don’t mind admitting that I was genuinely worried for a few hours there when we had no clues, no plan and no idea where on Earth your firstborn was. It was looking bleak, my friend.

“And then, when all seemed lost, mini-Potter came to save the day and order was restored. And there was cheering and jubilation among the masses.”

“You are appalling.”

“It’s true. Why are we friends again?”

“Because I give you an excuse to skive off from the office.”

“And my house-elves make a superior treacle tart.”

“Precisely.”

“Should you be headed home?”

“In a while, when James is due.”

“Still hiding from the ex, eh? That’ll never do, Harry. You’re a national hero, after all.”

“You avoid her!” Scorpius could hear the laughter in Mr Potter’s voice.

“That’s because she loathes and despises me. Whatever small degree of rapprochement we managed through the friendship of our children disappeared utterly when the two of you divorced.”

Scorpius could not help himself. He peered around the corner.

“She blames you, and me,” Harry sighed.

Draco gave a harsh bark of laughter. “Us? We never so much as snogged.”

“I know, she’s unreasonable.”

Draco appeared to think on the topic for a moment. “I suppose we could,” he offered. “Charlie and I have a very open relationship, and he likes you.”

Harry shook his head, laughing. “Thanks, but no. It would be just a trifle too incestuous, given the boys.”

“Thoughtless,” Draco agreed.

“Tasteless.’

“It’d really annoy your ex-wife.”

“In itself, almost reason to turn a perfectly good friendship into a torrid affair, but I’d have no one to complain to when you started to annoy me.”

“Weasley …”

Harry shook his head. “Only if I wanted to be hexed.”

“Well, never say I didn’t make an effort.”

“It’s appreciated.”

“More Scotch?”

“Thank you.”

Scorpius stepped away from the door quietly.

Albus was waiting for him when he walked back to his room. “So?”

“I think he’s going to wait here until the moment James is allowed to leave Finland.”

“So that’s about an hour.”

“Sounds right.”

Albus looked at him and grinned. “An hour is heaps of time.”

Scorpius nodded. “Enough for six showers, maybe seven.”

Albus pushed Scorpius hungrily against the wall and pressed his body against him. “This is not the time for comedy,” he growled.

Scorpius let his head fall back against the wall as Albus’s lips moved their way from his jaw to his collarbone. “No comedy,” he promised. “But inside the bedroom would be nice.”

Albus grinned. “I don’t know, I rather like this wall.”

Scorpius shook his head. “Oh Al, when will you remember that I spend my days climbing things and wrestling carnivorous plants?” He pushed Albus back and hoisted him over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. “Bedroom,” he decided, firmly.

“You are cheating!” Albus laughed. “This is completely unfair!”

“It’s a cruel universe.”

Albus reached down inside the waistband of Scorpius’s trousers and grabbed his pants. “Yes it is,” he agreed.

Scorpius was laughing as he hit the wall and let the two of them slide down it. “I thought you said no comedy!”

“I lied.”

From far up the hallway came the unmistakeable sound of a door being firmly closed.

A few laughter-filled seconds later, Scorpius’s door followed suit.


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