Taken II: Drifter

Chapter Seven:

The Hogshead was a place truly deserving of its name. It was a small, unflattering homestead built some time ago and refuge to the weary traveller, or those incapable of affording a hot meal. Despite the lack lustre shell it was, the interior was bright and warm and saturated in hues of red and brown, all of which allowed a small smile to flitter across Scorpius' face.

"Roro!"

Scorpius jumped at the sudden bellow, his eyes spanning across the cosy lounge to land on a wooden table around which was seated a group of young people. They watched him warily as he approached behind the flouncing redhead, five sets of eyes which seemed at once suspicious and curious.

Roro seated herself beside a tall girl with a round face, beckoning for the Allura to follow her and sit himself on the stool she tugged over from a neighbouring table. The lounge was near empty, with only a handful of men seated tiredly or slumped across the bar table that spanned the length of one wall. A woman stood behind the bar, twirling a dishcloth absently in her hand as she refilled drink after drink.

Scorpius pulled his gaze back to the table of young people in time to hear Roro announce his name. He kept his face impassive, unsure of whether he would be welcomed by this crowd or sneered at. A boy with colourless black eyes caught his determined gaze, his pale face tilting to the side curiously so that shoulder-length hair the colour of black satin fell across one cheek. He grinned suddenly.

"You're an Allura."

Scorpius felt his lip twitch of its own accord, the desire to scowl at the youth a powerful one. "Why would you think that?" he asked with a forced calm, only to have the strange-eyed boy chuckle at him.

"Don't get so defensive," he sighed, gesturing with a hand as though to wave away Scorpius' fears. "I'd know my kind anywhere." He raised an arm to the tabletop as he spoke, twisting it to show Scorpius the sudden flare of a reddish fin as it left his skin. The blonde watched the display with wide eyes which drifted back up to capture the stranger's black gaze. "You don't smell like family."

The younger boy laughed, his nose crinkling in a way Scorpius could only find endearing. "I suppose I wouldn't," he said with a genuine laugh, earning smiles from his friends, "The Allura blood in me is so diluted with years of breeding with humans that the arm fins are all I have, a throwback trait that earned me a swift kick out of my family home and inheritance."

Scorpius winced in sympathy. It was not a rare thing to hear of humans so despising of creatures that they would discard their own blood. A sad thing, Scorpius had always believed, to know that perhaps creatures had been wrong to assume they could mingle with the humans. Perhaps they would have been better off in hiding. He held out a hand to grasp the part-Allura's in a firm shake, allowing his own fin to slide open at a much wider span than the stranger's. "Scorpius Malfoy," he said with a smile, "pleasure to meet you."

The youth grinned, "Well, that shows me up," he said with laugh, "my name's Regulus."

Roro was quick to introduce the remaining four, gesturing first to the round-faced brunette who she dubbed Pansy. The slightly older female nodded softly before glancing away. Two twins with hair the colour of a summer sunset were introduced as Fred and George, their twin grins putting Scorpius immediately on edge. The last, however, was probably the youngest of the group, her face not yet matured from adolescence. Her bright blue eyes and yellow hair sparked an old memory in Scorpius, one he strained to recall but could not. She introduced herself as Sparrow and stared up at Scorpius with huge eyes.

It was as Roro was retelling stories of how they had come to find one another and end up living with Madam Rosemerta that Scorpius discovered Sparrow was no ordinary little girl. He watched the other's speak, his eyes flicking to the young girl when a whisper of something flittered across his skull. The sudden noise caused him to frown and shake his head as though to ward of a fly.

The whisper came again, faint yet louder and distinctly female.

Can you hear me?

For a moment Scorpius frowned, certain that Fleur was speaking to him. Had he not known for a fact that the woman was away visiting people she had once lived with, he would have responded with a biting retort about her invasion of his right to live alone. As it was, he turned only slightly and quirked an eyebrow up in Sparrow's direction.

The nine-year-old flushed a deep scarlet, looking both embarrassed and triumphant, as though she had just achieved something. Perhaps she had. There was only a handful of creatures Veela could communicate telepathically with, and Sparrow had probably encountered her first.

I can hear you little Sparrow, Scorpius answered back, smiling when Sparrow jumped and nearly spilled her water down her front. What is it you wish to talk about?

Scorpius kept an ear on Roro's conversation as he waited for the reply, his eyes softening as he watched a frown of concentration deepen between the young Veela's eyes. She was so very young to be on her own, without the companionship of another like herself. Her voice sounded in his head abruptly, distinctly stronger and rushed.

Don't trust Theo Nott. He says he will take you to a better place but he will not. We have lost brothers and sisters to him before. He preys on our poverty, our need to remain here.

Scorpius felt his mouth draw down in a grim line. Drama was what he had been hoping to avoid with his first voyage to a new life. He had enough money on him to begin a business and search for a home, yet he could not bring himself to stand and leave at the plain terror in Sparrow's voice. The child was clearly frightened of this man, and if she was, that would mean that the others were aswell. He could not bring them all with him, but he could remain here, work here. He could keep them safe.

He caught Sparrow's blue gaze, so familiar to something he had once known, someone he must have once known. He shuddered and rose to speak to the bar woman, Madam Rosemerta. He would not leave them until he was sure they were safe. He had always been a firm believer of fate. Roro had found him for a reason. For this.