Chapter 6: Fourth Year Part 1: Revelations

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2020

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Scorpius had almost forgotten about the new house that had been promised in his mother's Christmas letter until he and Goyle Portkeyed to an out-of-the-way corner of a Parisian street. He stared up at the house the big man pointed to. "They can't afford that!" he couldn't stop himself saying.

Goyle only grunted and carried Scorpius' trunk bodily up the stairs, muscles bulging under his robes. Scorpius hurried after him, opening his eyes wide in the dimly-lit hallway. It was very bare, the old wood floors quite clear of furniture, but the ceilings were very high, giving it the impression of elegance. Still, it needed some pictures on the wall or something.

There didn't seem to be anyone at home, at first. Goyle dumped his trunk at the bottom of the stairs, puffing with the effort. "Your room is third on the right," he told Scorpius, sneering. "Need help with it?"

"No thanks," Scorpius said quickly. He'd rather not have Goyle anywhere near his room. The older he got, the more the man spent a chill up his spine just by looking at him.

"Your father wants see you in his study when you're changed," Goyle told him, startling him a little. It was like he was a servant. Scorpius knew his father was used to having servants, but he had imagined Goyle more on the lines of a colleague. Not a very respected colleague... but then again, his father had a knack for making weak-minded people behave the way he wanted them to.

Scorpius levitated his trunk up the stairs and eventually found his bedroom. The few books he had left behind last summer were on the shelf, which was basically the only clue. The bed had black sheets and a dark green coverlet. He wrinkled his nose at it - house pride uncharacteristically rearing its head - and pulled off his school robes.

It took him a while to find anything to wear that his father wouldn't turn his nose up at. He had grown enough that even his newest robes didn't fit him properly, and he regretted not buying something during the last Hogsmeade weekend. Eventually he found a pair of trousers and a shirt, quite informal by his father's standards but at least not too ill-fitting. He washed and put them on, mainly wanting to go to bed after the long train journey. He wondered how he would sleep without listening to music, first.

Before he went downstairs, he looked around for a good hiding place. There were a few things he had really needed to bring home, like his Muggle Studies books. He had no doubt of what would happen if he was caught with them, and they were borrowed. He couldn't afford for them to be destroyed. He eventually charmed up the bottom of the big wardrobe in the corner and stuffed them into the small space that opened up beneath. It was quite handy, so he put a couple of other things in there as well, for safe keeping. The little pouch of Muggle money Albus had leant him again. The novelty Ravenclaw socks Rose had got him for his birthday. He wasn't sure if he would actually get in trouble for those things, but better safe than sorry.

He had to wander around a bit before he found the study, knocking on doors until he heard his father's sharp voice say "come!"

He opened the door to see the man reading something at his desk. He looked different. In the year since Scorpius had last seen him, he seemed to have come out of the shell of self-pity he had been wallowing in ever since his son could remember. He looked bright eyed, determined, focused. So focused that he didn't even look up when Scorpius entered the room.

"Father?" Scorpius said, more to encourage a reaction than anything else. The man gestured to a chair without looking up.

Scorpius sat, looking around at the room. It was big, like the others, tall, long and narrow. There was a bookcase that seemed to be more for show than any actual use, and a desk covered in drawers that he was sure would be magically locked. It was that sort of desk. His father was wearing robes of a dark green that was almost black, with silver and gold embroidery at the collar. Put together, the scene was almost opulent. Scorpius started to wonder if there was some secret family money he hadn't known about that hadn't been used to pay fines and debts after the war. Maybe his grandparents had died and this was his father's inheritance? It seemed a likelier explanation than the alternative: that his father had somehow bought this house, the furniture and the new robes with legitimate earnings.

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