She wouldn't reply to him. Two weeks, the longest weeks of his life, dragged by — characterized by the strange looks, the whispers, the worry. The silence from his father, the angry words from Grandfather, and Mother in critical condition. And Rose simply gone.

Everyone talked! Everyone looked at Scorpius and saw a predator — everyone believed every lie that dropped from Rose's perfect lips, every fabrication that curled from Jessica's.

"I'm moving."

Scorpius jumped, startled, whirled around from his locker. Jessica Mendell, as blonde and gorgeous as ever.

His eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I care?"

"What?" Jessica's eyes narrowed right back. "Why wouldn't you? I'm your friend and I'm moving! To Canada! You'll never see me again!"

"My friend," Scorpius repeated, drawling it out. "My friend. Who ruined my life and then convinced everyone it was all my fault."

Jessica huffed affrontedly, crossing her arms. "'Ruined your life'! Why are you being so melodramatic? Rose is the one spreading those rumours! Of course it wasn't your fault, the kiss was a joint effort, wasn't it?"

Scorpius stared at her, bemused, unsure of how to react to this sudden plot twist. She seemed genuine enough... and it was well known
that Jessica Mendell was a terrible liar with no imagination... so then how — ? It really had been a joint effort, hadn't it.

"This is my last day at this school," Jessica prompted.

That snapped Scorpius out of his shock. "Hold up. You're moving? Why? Your parents have jobs here. A house. Nothing happens in Canada, it's no place for the rich and successful. Why the sudden change?"

Jessica bit her lip.

"Don't lie," Scorpius warned, leaning towards her menacingly. "Tell me the truth."

"They really think you actually did something to me," Jessica blurted out, suddenly in tears. "I'm sorry, Scorpius, I had no idea Rose would interpret it like that and then tattle!"

So that was it. Scorpius fell back against the lockers, at a complete loss. How had he somehow managed to uproot an entire family — why did he always screw everything up? Why?

"Give me a goodbye kiss," Jessica whispered, suddenly close, cheeks damp. "One last one."

He had nothing left to lose, it seemed. He gave her one. And two, and three.

She was so fucking good at it.

*'*'*

The room they were marched into was ranged with more armed, masked people. A password was required to enter. The 'old man himself' presided behind a formidable-looking desk.

"I expect," Voldemort said by way of greeting, "that you children understand why you're here?"

His voice was soft, hissing, frigid. It sent chills down Scorpius' spine. He could feel the humans around him — friends and foes alike — tense up and close off in response to Voldemort's presence. Scorpius wasn't sure what he'd been expecting — a normal man? No one was quite sure what kind of face hid beneath the shadows of Voldemort's hood, but something in the back of Scorpius' mind had somehow assumed that the ringleader would be more open about his identity here, among his people. But of course that was a dumb thing to assume — nobody even knew his real name.

"They have been duly filled in, sir," the girl Death Eater clipped, stepping forward and dipping her head respectfully, and a few black strands slipped from her bun to frame her masked face.

"Excellent, Panther." Voldemort sounded amused. "I am pleased with your work."

"Her work?" Hugo cut in, affronted, stepping forward. "Unless I recall incorrectly, it's thanks to me that they're here at all." He jabbed an accusing finger in Scorpius' direction, as if it was all his fault.

Voldemort put his fingertips together and leaned forward ever so slightly. "It was foolish to reveal yourself as Hugo Weasley to our lovely Rose here, Scout," he said quietly, menace sliding discreetly through the words. "Your orders were to conform completely to the role of Sam Jerkins." He paused a moment, let this words hang in the air. Hugo's face drained of colour. The temperature seemed to drop. Scorpius held his breath.

"Your actions have been alarmingly rash lately, Scout," Voldemort mused. "Having second thoughts, perhaps?"

It was casual, but it seemed to catch Hugo off guard. "No!" He shot back defensively, all the colour rushing back to his cheeks like a little kid caught in the act of fibbing. "Why would you think that I'd have any second thoughts at all?!"

Voldemort said nothing.

"Sir," Hugo amended quickly, scowling.

"Scout. We'll discuss this later, in private. You are dismissed."

There was a very tense moment where Hugo appeared ready to argue, and then a thud of relief when he ducked his head and turned on his heel, and slouched out of the room with all the airs of a misunderstood teenager. Like when you take too long of a drag on the pipe and your throat burns and your eyes water, but then you huff it out and it's a relief and a disappointment all at once.

"I must apologize for him, sir," the girl said, breaking the backwashed silence. "I've been trying to keep him in line, but he's just drifting away."

It was a funny image, this pale little girl keeping Mr. King of the Universe Weasley 'in line'.

"Very well." And then Voldemort's attention was undividedly on his hostages. Scorpius just barely managed to suppress a shiver of fear.

"Enough of this weird shit," Lily Potter snapped, quite suddenly. "What the hell are you planning on doing?"

"You told me they'd been informed," Voldemort said to the girl — Panther?

"They have." She was irritated.

"We know that you're, like, ransoming us," Albus Potter interjected hastily, nudging his glasses up his nose.

"Because our families are insanely rich," James Potter added.

"And we think that's cheesy," Lily finished. "And lame, and pointless, and unoriginal, and also how do you not walk into doors with that creepy hood all over your face?"

"He does walk into doors," Scorpius interrupted, the words jumping out before he had time to consider them. "That should answer all your questions."

Lily actually busted out laughing.

Scorpius immediately regretted opening his mouth at all. The drag had definitely been too long this time; he'd probably just fucked up his entire existence.

The sudden cold press of metal against his head only fed Scorpius' fear. "Remember who you're speaking to," Panther spat, her warm breath fanning out over his neck. She was nearly a head shorter than him. "I will not hesitate to blow your brains out."

Scorpius didn't doubt it, somehow.

"Ahem," Voldemort spoke up, seemingly unaffected. "Save the brain blowing for later, Panther. I can only tolerate so much childish nonsense."

"Yes, sir." She drew the gun back and snapped up her stance in one fluid motion, like she was coming to attention.

"Now..." Reaching forwards, Voldemort tapped at something on his desk. Moments later, the smooth expanse of wall next to him was lit, as if by some invisible projector, and a page not unlike that of a FaceTime call popped up. Voldemort tapped away for a long, heavy moment, and then an automated voice echoed into the room. Calling, Ronald and Hermione Weasley, it said cheerfully. Rose let out a muffled squeak.

Four rings bounced agonizingly around the walls until it hung up automatically. Scorpius chewed at his bottom lip. Did the Weasleys have any way of knowing that Voldemort himself was trying to get ahold of them? Were they purposely not answering? Had they realized yet that the Death Eater organization was after them?

Voldemort seemed unperturbed by the silence. He tapped at his mysterious gadget a few more times, before sitting back and folding his pale hands. Calling, Ronald and Hermione Weasley...

"They won't ignore us for long. I have the call feature on a continuous loop," Voldemort explained matter-of-factly. "All we have to do is wait." He nodded his head sharply, the hood dipping, and a good portion of the assembled Death Eaters filed out the heavy door, rifles in hand. That left one on either side of Voldemort's desk, and Panther — but it seemed like the latter might be just as deadly as a squadron of trained Death Eaters.

"That's some pretty crazy tech you've got going on here," Lily ventured, raising her voice above the ringing. "What's your secret ingredient?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret anymore, would it," Voldemort countered smoothly, a faint undertone of amusement in his voice.

"But my girlfriend is really into computer sciences. Are you sure you can't share a few tips?"

Panther jumped in before Voldemort had a chance to reply. "She's irritating. I wouldn't mind blowing her brains out, too."

"You're not blowing any of our brains out, actually," Rose piped up suddenly, loudly. Firmly.

"Aww," Panther hissed after a beat. "Is that so?"

"Yup." Popping the 'p'.

"Well." Panther stepped closer to Scorpius, and his breathing picked up. "That's really very unfair..."

"Life isn't fair, honey," Rose drawled.

"...that's really very unfair to poor Scorpius here." She whipped out her gun again, smirking maliciously, and Scorpius fought against his senses which were all screaming at him to run. What was this dread filling him — he knew she couldn't kill him, not yet, so why — ?

"Panther," Voldemort said warningly. "No brain blowing."

"No, sir." And then her attention was back on Scorpius. "But I bet you he wouldn't resist if I were about to blow out his brains."

Scorpius could feel their stares boring holes into his flesh. What was this insane girl talking about? Why was she spewing all this bullshit and why was it all true? He stood paralyzed. It wasn't true. It was not true.

"Look," Panther went on, circling him. "You can see it in his eyes. He lost his will to live a long time ago."

"Stop it!" Rose exclaimed, sounding horrified. "Leave him alone!"

"It's only the truth, honey," was the smug response.

"It's not," Rose persisted, her voice rising. Scorpius wondered vaguely why she even cared. "None of that is true! Say something, Malfoy! Tell her it's not true!"

Was she talking to him? Nothing seemed right anymore. Scorpius felt exposed, defenceless. His eyes... did his eyes really say all that? Did they?

"He won't say anything," Panther purred, tilting her head up to trap Scorpius' gaze. "He won't lie to you. Such sad eyes..."

And then suddenly, the ringing stopped and a new voice crackled through. "Rose!"

Panther whipped away from Scorpius and he nearly collapsed, as if he were a puppet and she had abruptly let go of his strings. The terrified, magnified faces of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley graced the wall. Music could be heard in their background.

"Mum, Dad," Rose breathed.

"Well shit," James remarked.

Voldemort stood, pushing back his chair and striding out from behind his desk, his cloak billowing behind him, until he stood facing the projection. Rose's parents' faces drained of all colour when he came into view.

"Voldemort," Mr. Weasley growled. "What d'you think you're playing at?!"

"I'll keep it simple." Voldemort crossed his arms. "You'll pay us what you owe us. And so will the Potters and the Malfoys. You'll notify them. You have one week."

Mrs. Weasley stood up angrily. "Now wait a minute — "

"Pay up by the end of the week, or it's lights out for the kids."

Panther turned to Scorpius and winked, and Scorpius couldn't fight the hollow, hollow feeling that dropped like lead into his chest.

The Weasleys could only stare back in shocked silence until Voldemort shut off the call and the wall went blank.

*'*'*'*

A/N: *awkwardly shuffles feet*

Guys I'm sorry, I'm just really not that great at handling external conflict. Internal conflict is my forte.

And no, I have no idea where my writing talents went. *sighs miserably and drowns sorrows in fanfic*

~ The Unicorn Queen