A Dream For The Dead

A Dream For The Dead

Chapter 35

Did You Get What You Deserve?

I have to wonder if you have a heart at all, Draco Malfoy. I should have known better. You don’t care for anyone or anything but yourself. Self-serving to the end, always seeking pleasure where you can get it sooner.

Your wife is taken from you. The love of your life, the woman who gave birth to your son has been stolen away and you go gallivanting about, prostrating yourself for anyone who will have you, flaunting your indifference and corrupting those of pure heart.

I don’t know how you did it, little skullsucker. I don’t know how you managed to enchant the Saviour but I will make you pay for it. You’ve somehow got him under your power but I will save him, as he once saved me, as he once saved us all. Were you planning to deliver him to your precious Master, Malfoy? You will fear me yet, Malfoy. You will tremble at the mere thought of me and fall to your knees before me. You will beg me for a mercy you never showed another living soul. You will be broken by me and plead and offer all the empty promises you can to get back what I’ve taken from you this time.

Your wife might not mean much to you, but someone does. Scorpius looks so angelic when he sleeps, so innocent and unlike the vile and poisonous creature that he is.

Or perhaps he isn’t sleeping. Perhaps he’s unconscious. Perhaps he’s dead.

Are you frightened now, Malfoy?

-The Dementor’s Kiss

+++++

When it rains, it pours, the old saying goes. As far as Draco was concerned, he was standing in the middle of a typhoon. The world around him became bleak and frozen and his heart threatened to explode within him. He shook so violently that he was sure the sound of his bones rattling was audible. Draco wanted to weep with as much force as he wanted to rend the world in half and release the molten rock from the core.

The sentiment was still not enough, however, to convey the power of his fury.

The sun was gone and the night was rolling in, though it was still morning.

Draco continued to stare at the letter, through the letter, to see nothing but that last line. The question was so bold, so cruel and so foolish. The question was the wound that cut him to the quick. The question suggested that he did not care for his son, that he was selfish and self-centered enough not to fear for his son’s life.

The question contained every cutting remark ever made to Draco in his life. It contained all the hatred that the wizarding world bore him. It contained the contempt and disdain that streamed after him everywhere he went.

The question was his breaking point.

Harry pulled the letter out of Draco’s hands to read it. Draco barely noticed. He was not looking at the words. He stared at the ground and wondered how much energy, how much magic it would take him to break through it. He wondered if he had enough magic to do it. He wondered he were strong enough to save his son.

“Draco,” Harry’s voice cut in, but Draco did not look up. The tone was hard and serious, but a hand came to his shoulder. He did not feel it. He was hardly breathing, stuck in a panic, in a shock so overwhelming that it literally froze him. “I’m going to send and owl to Hermione and we’re going to Hogwarts.”

Draco finally snapped back to attention and he jerked away from Harry’s hand. His grey eyes were stormy and warned of coming danger. His body still trembled but now it was not with shock, it was with the rush of adrenaline, the need to use it and the inability to do so.

He wanted to scream and scold Harry, to blame him for everything and to push him away. He wanted to punch him and hex him and curse him into oblivion. But it wasn’t Harry’s fault. It was the fault of this coward who didn’t even have the bollocks to use his real name when threatening someone else.

This was the coward that got his rocks off on kidnapping women and children and threatening them. He had taken Scorpius.

He was going to die.

“My son is gone,” Draco said hoarsely, without really knowing what would complete the sentence.

Harry stared at him, his green eyes full of fire and no light. His jaw was clenched tight and his lips were a thin line. He nodded and flicked his wand. A brilliant silver stag erupted from the end and he turned to speak to it. Something shining flitted through his eyes before being chased away by shadows and he swallowed hard.

Draco was about to implode.

“Hermione, I’m sure you know what Ginny is trying to do,” he said seriously to the stag. There was a shimmer to his voice that wasn’t usually there. The spell to attach his message. “She cannot have my children. Do what you do; I will talk with her later. I have something far more important to do right now than deal with her shite.”

He turned back to Draco, who was staring through the stag and trying to figure out how he was not yet at Hogwarts.

“Let’s go,” the Auror told him, holding out a hand. Draco grasped it so hard his nails dug into Harry’s skin, but Harry made no show of pain. Draco realized, as the pull of Apparition unsettled his world and threw everything into disarray, that he couldn’t Apparate on his own because he had no focus, he could not concentrate on anything but Scorpius.

Scorpius was his focus, and always had been.

The ground rocketed up beneath them as they appeared in Hogsmeade. The world lurched and Harry tumbled into Draco, who was so tense he caught him without moving. Draco’s body was taut as a bow and arced in much the same way. He needed to get into the school and find out what happened to his son.

He needed to find Scorpius.

He needed to kill the Dementor’s Kiss.

They raced down the path toward the grounds and through the open gates. He wondered if Hogwarts was ever truly safe and why he trusted the staff with his son. He wondered if the gates were open because the Headmistress knew they were coming, or because the security measures were ridiculously lax now that there was no threat upon the wizarding world.

Just a threat upon me.

Harry said nothing as they ran, but moved with Draco, with all his determination and his focus. The sprawling grounds of the castle were soon cut into strips and Draco travelled them like the wind through the Whomping Willow’s branches. The great oak front doors appeared before them and opened as they closed in.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Headmistress Sprout greeted him. Her usually cheerful face was tight and serious. “Mr. Potter. I did not expect you to join us, but I suppose I should have known you would.” She considered them for half a moment and as Draco opened his mouth to say something scathing she turned and motioned into the entrance hall. “Please follow me.”

“When did Scorpius disappear?” Draco asked sharply, following her in but intending to dispense with the niceties. This was not the moment. Sprout did not stop walking.

“Albus Potter came to me this morning, panicked and crying,” she said plainly, leading them toward her office. “He informed me that Scorpius was not to be found anywhere in the Slytherin dormitories this morning, nor was he anywhere in the castle.” Draco opened his mouth to ask how it was possible for her to know that so surely, but she continued. “It seems that Scorpius had also taken one of Albus Potter’s possessions with him upon disappearing.”

They stopped in font o f a stone gargoyle and Sprout stopped.

“Fluxweed,” she said simply. The Gargoyle sprang to life and stepped aside for them. Sprout continued up the stairs without turning back. “Albus also produced a letter, addressed to Sorpius, that might shed some light on what happened.”

Stepping into what was now her office, Sprout flicked her wand and a small sheaf of parchment flew into her hands. She turned around to face the two men now, her face was more stern than before and she held out the letter.

Draco took it and scanned it quickly. When his eyes fell to the signature at the bottom, his heart tried simultaneously to sink and explode. The effect was none-too pleasant and he coughed, reaching out for something to support himself. The world was spinning again and the air had left his lungs.

“What does the letter say?” Harry asked, taking it from Draco. “It must be from someone Scorpius knows, if he disappeared because of it. Who sent it?” He opened the letter and began to read as Draco answered him.

“Apparently,” he said his voice cold and full of stones. “You did.”

+++++

Scorpius,

Don’t say anything to Al and don’t let him know I’m writing you. I need your help. Your father is in trouble and you are the only one who can help me find him and save him. If Al finds out, he’ll want to come too, but he can’t. I don’t even want to have to ask you for this, but it’s the only way to help your father. Meet me at the edge of the Forbidden Forest at midnight tonight.

Harry Potter

+++++

“This isn’t possible,” Harry said after staring at the letter for a good few moments. He was angry and vengeful and sure that, had he been younger, the whole of Hogwarts would have been destroyed by his uncontrollable magic. “I didn’t write this. Why would I ever write something like that? This isn’t even my handwriting!”

Harry tugged at his hair and felt a strong urge to crumple the letter. He ignored said urge, given that this letter was evidence and he would likely need it later.

“Obviously you didn’t write it, Potter,” Draco snapped. There was little force behind the harshness of his words, however. He was tired and looked as though he could just as easily burst into tears as tear down the walls of the castle by hand. “Obviously it was written by the bloody maniac who has been sending me letters.”

“But why would Scorpius believe this?” Harry asked, now angry because he was being used against Draco, just as he was always being used against those he cared about.

“Because he’s been worried about me for months,” Draco answered, brushing back a stray lock of blond hair. “He’s been worried and Al has been singing your praises to him about how you can help me. You promised to save me and Scorpius only ever wanted to help. He would have believed anything if it had come from you.” He looked at Harry for a moment and Harry’s heart sank. He knew Draco wasn’t blaming him but he felt as though he should. “Scorpius only ever believes what he’s told if it comes from me or from Al. He believes you because you’re Al’s father. I wasn’t there to tell him otherwise.”

Harry clasped Draco’s shoulder there, sure that the blond was about to collapse. Or perhaps it was only the calm before the storm. Perhaps Draco was on the verge of erupting instead.

“We will find him,” Harry said, unable to add anything else. He turned back to Sprout. “What did Scorpius take from Al?”

“Your cloak,” Sprout told him quietly. “He said he was missing ‘the cloak his father gave him’. I imagine you know precisely which cloak he is referring to?”

Harry nodded, knowing that the gift he gave his son was what ultimately enabled Scorpius to be taken without notice. He hated himself for it. He knew that he should not have allowed Al to take the Invisibility cloak at the start of term. He knew that it was more a tool for getting into trouble than it was for getting out of it. But his nostalgia, coupled with the look on his son’s face when he produced it, was too much for him to deny.

“How can you be completely certain that Scorpius is not being held somewhere on the grounds?” Draco asked, a note of hope and fear turning his otherwise calm words into knives at Harry’s heart.

“James Potter seemed to have inside knowledge as to the grounds,” Sprout answered, her tone not a little scolding as she glanced at Harry. “Naturally I had the staff search the grounds as well, but he was right. There is no sign of Scorpius.”

Fuck… the map. If only James had checked it the night before, before Scorpius went missing… if only James had decided, on a whim, to take a look around the castle… maybe he would have seen the kidnapper’s name. Maybe he could have stopped Scorpius…

NO, a sharp voice in Harry’s head snapped. It was not James’ responsibility to be a hero for anyone but himself. James was not Harry. Neither was Al. Both of them had more sense than that. Both of them were children raised in a safe world –or mostly safe –and had never experienced the dangers Harry had lived. It was unreasonable to expect them to put themselves in danger.

Harry shouldn’t want them to put themselves in danger. Ever.

And he didn’t, really. He wouldn’t have wanted James to try and stop Scorpius, or try and stop the kidnapper. He wouldn’t have wanted his son to be hurt trying to protect a friend. He just couldn’t stand the thought of Scorpius going missing while Harry was supposed to be protecting him, protecting Draco and solving the case.

I’m a fucking terribly Auror.

“Professor?” a soft and frightened voice came from the door. Harry blinked and swung around, recognizing it. “I just… Dad?”

Harry opened his arms and Al ran into him, holding him tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” he said quickly. “I didn’t know Score was gone until it was too late. I tried to find him, but he was gone. Dad, I’m scared for him.” He hugged Harry more tightly and then turned to see Draco. His face paled slightly and he bit his lip hard. “Mr. Malfoy, I’m… I’m so sorry… I… I …”

Draco’s eyes were red and his jaw was tight as he watched Harry hugging Al. Still, he leaned forward and placed a hand on Al’s shoulder to clam him.

“You did nothing wrong,” Draco told him, his voice impossibly quiet and calm. Harry knew that there was a stab of fear and a ring of pain underneath the soothing words. He was terrified, but he was still a father. “You did well. I’m going to find Scorpius. He will be alright.” Harry wondered if Draco was saying the words to comfort Al or convince himself. “Don’t worry, alright? You did everything you could.” Draco straightened and opened his mouth, hesitating as his eyes roved over Harry and Al together. “Thank you, Albus. For… for being his friend.”

Al nodded silently. Harry didn’t think that Al understood what Draco had said, but Harry had. He bit down on his lip, mimicking his son and then squeeze him.

“You get back to school, now,” Harry told him. He found it hard to release him, given what had happened to Scorpius and what was going on with Ginny. “I love you, Al. And I love James too. Tell him that for me, yeah?” Al nodded and hugged him one last time before leaving.

“We need to go,” Draco said once the door was closed. “We need to find where that thing is keeping my son.” Draco eyed the letter and then addressed Sprout. “Thank you, Headmistress for your help.” The clipped words conveyed that Draco was slightly less than grateful, but he turned on his heel and left.

Harry followed him out after motioning to the headmistress and ran behind to catch up. Draco was determinately moving to the Entrance Hall, in a hurry to leave. Harry understood his desire to rush, but it would do nothing to help. They needed to calm down and think clearly.

Harry just didn’t know how to tell Draco that.

“I am going back to Star’s Fall,” Draco informed him curtly, once they had reached the edge of the grounds. “I am going to comb through all of those letters and see if he slipped up and mentioned a location, or something that might give away his location.” He stopped dead, then, and turned to Harry. He swallowed hard and Harry wanted to hold him and reassure him. “You need to go deal with your ex-wife.”

Harry’s jaw dropped open and he shook his head. What was Draco thinking? Was he angry that Harry had hugged Al, that Al was not kidnapped with Scorpius? Did he think that Harry wasn’t putting the search for Scorpius and the case above all else? It was the most pressing matter. It could be a matter of life and death. Surely Draco didn’t believe that Harry cared more about Ginny’s stupid, unfounded threat than Scorpius’ life?

“No, Draco,” he answered sternly. “Now is not the time. I can deal with that later, once Scorpius is safe.”

“No,” Draco told him sharply and his silver eyes flashed. “You will deal with it now. I need to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I need to be alone with him and his thoughts.” He gestured to the letter. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

Harry wanted to argue but the look in Draco’s eyes told him it was for naught. He shut his mouth and then grabbed the blond, roughly tugging him into an embrace. He held fast and tight, as though letting go of Draco would mean allowing the world to fall apart. He could not let that happen.

“We’ll find him,” Harry said again, because the words needed saying and if Harry said them enough times, they would be true.

Draco said nothing but stared deep into Harry’s eyes. His silver irises were cold and told of wintry landscapes on the edge of Hell. Harry suddenly feared that Draco would do something altogether foolish, that he would shed his Slytherin tactics and take up the mantle of Gryffindor for a day.

Harry shook the thought away, but not until he tightened his grip on Draco. He had to trust that Draco would do as he said and call Harry if there was anything new. He had to trust that Draco was more level-headed than he was in dangerous situations.

He let go and felt Draco’s lips brush lightly against his cheek as Draco pulled away. The blond looked steadily at him, more steadily than he ever had before. Harry tried to match his gaze but couldn’t.

“Goodbye, Harry,” Draco said quietly before Apparating away.

Harry then had an overwhelming sense that Draco had kissed him goodbye. Forever.

+++++

Draco tore through his house upon returning and upended the chest containing all the letters. Then he stood over them, wielding his wand and only the deep and growing anger that would drive him to the end. It had been maddening trying to stay calm for Harry and for Sprout. It had been heart-wrenching to try and seem understanding for Albus Severus. The boy was not to blame and it was all Draco could do not to explode in front of him.

The only one to blame here is The Dementor’s Kiss. They will be the only one to pay.

Draco stared down at the pile of letters and the various inks glimmered at him in the low light. They taunted him and goaded him and told him he was weak. They called him coward in a rainbow language and sniggered at his failures. They seeped into his blood and set it ablaze, poisoning him and infecting him with self-doubts.

Scorpius.

The word would be a chant to Draco. His son’s name would keep him focused, keep him grounded.

Draco may not have done research -real research –in years; not since he realized that his career would never call for it; but he still knew some clever spells that could be of use.

He flicked his wand and all the letters laid themselves out flat on the ground, on the tables, on any and every surface they could cover. There was not a spot clear for walking but Draco didn’t need to. He flourished his wand and immediately certain words lifted off the scraps of parchment and hovered in the air, written on invisible walls. They shone in different colours and some were larger than others.

“Locations,” Draco said quietly with a forceful urgency behind his words. The floating text shifted as it rearranged itself before him, listing the most commonly mentioned locations in larger text and the lesser ones in smaller writing.

Draco eyed the largest word and his heart beat faster and faster in his chest. He tried to quell his panic, tried to control his breathing, but failed. The top listed location was followed by only two others. The last was in the smallest text and it shimmered very softly. It was, however, phrased differently than all the others.

Draco prodded it with his wand and called up the letter from whence it was pulled.

The parchment shot to his hand and he scanned it again. The language was different in this letter, as well as the arguments used. The particular wording of the location mentioned suddenly made sense to Draco.

He flicked his wand and the words disappeared from the air, the letter falling back to its place on the ground. He took a deep breath and grasped his wand firmly.

He should send a message to Harry. He really should. He had promised that he would do it. But there was no time. He had told Harry to go deal with the Weasel bint and that would take time. Harry had probably not even managed to begin discussing yet. Draco couldn’t stop him from fighting for his children.

And Draco couldn’t wait.

He held out his wand and Apparated to Malfoy Manor.

The ground swirled in beneath him and the world righted itself, barely jerking at all on his landing. Draco stood outside the front entrance, a few yards inside the gate. He stared up at his childhood home, the cradle of his life and the birthplace of his nightmares. He swallowed hard and readied himself for battle, unconsciously mimicking the breathing techniques and stance he had used once before, once long ago, before he walked up into the Astronomy Tower.

“You certainly are quick, when you’re actually motivated,” a startlingly familiar voice proclaimed smugly. Draco tried to turn but saw only a flash of coloured light.

Then the world spun and everything went dark.

-----

A/N: Heeeloo! So I've been sick as a dog for a week, but I feel better now. So I'll get back to posting :). It's almost finished! Are you excited? I am. :D I hope you like this chapter.

Next chapter up soon. THANK YOU so much for the reviews and support! I love you all!