Red String

Chapter 1

The alleyway is dark. Shadows dancing across every corner, every uneven crack. Scorpius glances across the deep blackness of Knockturn Alley, adjusting his hood accordingly as witches and warlocks turn. Hags stepping from hollows to temp them into a cursed object.

"This is not a good idea." Isaac, Theodore Notts heir, mutters.
"We're too far now, Isaac." Mattheo, Minister Riddles son, states. "Don't be a poss."
"You're only acting tough because you brought your girlfriend." Isaac hisses back.
"She's not my girlfriend." Mattheo snaps, even if no one believes him.
Scorpius rolls his eyes, glancing at the girl cowering at Mattheos side. Low hood drawn around her flush face.

Isabella Payne, a muggleborn girl who'd stumbled into the Wizarding world and scrambled to find herself a footing.
It's terrible she thinks Mattheo is a footing she could properly latch on to. It's almost sad, as Isabella squeals at a table full of flesh masks.

Isabella is smart, terrified of everything within Knockturn Alley. At least she has that sense screwed correctly inside her head.

"How much farther until we reach your shop?" Isabella whispers to Mattheo.
"It's there." He juts his chin.

They each pause a foot from the front door of the shop. A tiny building squeezed between an apothecary and an undisclosed building.
Scorpius feels a cold shiver race down his spine at the shop.

"Let's go." Mattheo mutters.
"You're mad." Scorpius says.

He was never one for denying an adventure with Mattheo, after sixteen years the craziest the fool has come up with is skinny dipping. Now, this, of course. Still, Mattheos idea of crazy pales in comparison to what Scorpius had ever faced in his previous life.
When there was another person, a girl with green eyes and black hair and a damned beautiful Cheshire grin, who was also wild for adventure. Mattheo holds no candle to her, where jumping onto the backs of dragons and hiding in the Forbidden Forest were her ideas of thrill.

Scorpius can almost imagine it still, after so many years, the horrific thrill that sprung through her expressive eyes anytime something dangerous came along. Whether that be Quidditch, or riding a hippogriff, or defeating a certain Dark Lord.

"If your father figures out—"
"Stop being such an old man, Scorpio." Mattheo sighs, "It's just fortune telling."
"Fortune telling itself is dangerous," He argues. "It's a forbidden practice for a reason."
"That's because old coots kept scamming people. Not because it's dangerous."
"Unless you're delusional like Trelawney," Isaac unhelpfully snorts.
"Trelawney has proven how dangerous it can be. You may call her delusional but—"
"But what?" Mattheo challenges. "What has she prophesied oh great Malfoy Heir, that means this old coot will be different from the rest."
"If you think it's a hoax, why come at all?"
"How else will we spend our allowance?" Mattheo rolls his eyes. "It's so boring at home, why not?"
"I'm curious to what they've got to say." Isabella chirps unhelpfully.
"No one asked, Payne." Scorpius grouches.
"Well you're not being helpful." Isabella huffs. "You've come all this way, are you really going to make us turn back because you're scared?"
"I'm hardly scared."
"I don't know," Mattheo hums. "Bell has a good point. You usually don't second guess our little escapades."
Scorpius sighs, "I simply don't see why we need to waste money on something that'll benefit us in no way but filling a frauds pocket."
"For the fun. We have plenty of coin anyway." Mattheo grips the clasp of Scorpius' cloak. "Come on, wuss. I'll pay this round."
Scorpius doesn't deign Mattheo with a groan as he's dragged to the entrance where purple and gold drapes hang at the foggy thin windows.

The bell above rings as Mattheo shoves the door open. His and Isabella's heads poking in before he ushers her into the shop.
Incense assaults each of their nostrils, as gold and silver trinkets tingle with the swift drift somehow filling the decrepit shop.