JPATNM ~ Chapter 12: In Which Salamanders Crawl Out of the Fireplace

A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.

- Carl Reiner

Chapter 12:

In Which Salamanders Crawl Out of the Fireplace

~ Scorpius ~

The Malfoy Manor was radiant. A grand fir tree decorated the parlor, glowing from the purple candles floating over the edges of each branch. An elegant garland of gray pearls was wrapped around it and that was all the decoration it needed, according to Scorpius’s father. Scorpius begged to differ, considering the Hogwarts way of decorating in warm colours and ornamental balls more appropriate to the festive days; it gave the castle the right kind of atmosphere.

That was exactly where the difference lay; Hogwarts wanted to look festive, while the Manor was decorated merely as a show of power. Draco Malfoy was already making a favour to his only son for indulging to this present exchange. He only vaguely remembered the interest he had himself in Christmas presents.

Scorpius had gone with Penny to Diagon Alley to buy presents for his parents and had quite a difficult time choosing something suitable. Mother was easier; Astoria Malfoy liked to wear jewelry, nothing too extravagant, but precious stones. Especially in shades of green, such as jade and emeralds were appreciated. He entered Ranford Jewels and Precious Stones uncertain and came out certain he had found a gift perfectly matched with Mother’s green eyes.

Father posed quite a challenge. What to get for a man who could have anything he desired and desired nothing?

“Penny, what do you think?”

The house elf had looked at him with big, round eyes, her mouth slightly agape. “Penny wouldn’t know, Master Scorpius.” She shook her head. “Master Draco is a peculiar man, with a particular taste.”

“Too particular,” Scorpius mumbled as he evaded the crowds of witches and wizards doing their Christmas shopping, same as him.

Along the way he found a beautiful wand sheath on discount, which he reckoned that Grandfather Lucius would fancy, so he asked for it to be wrapped for him as well. In the end, unable to find anything else, he bought a premium quality quill made from Augurey feather from Amanuensis Quills and an ink pot carved out of dragon glass with the Malfoy insignia engraved upon it. He hoped Father would be pleased; he did a fair lot of writing after all, so the present was elegant and, more importantly, practical.

For Grandmother Narcissa he had chosen a silk shawl and for Daphne Greengrass,  Scorpius’s aunt from his mother’s side, a bracelet. Penny left him on his own for a few minutes, to return to the Manor and place the presents on the desk of her master, and returned to him briefly. Together they walked to the small shop of Aunt Daphne and used her fireplace to transport themselves to the drawing room of the Manor, which was more often than not unoccupied.

Shoot fell down from Scorpius’s clothes as he ducked to avoid the beautiful mantelpiece, and Penny clicked her fingers, a soft breeze moving from her to the fireplace, vacuuming the ash and dust in. Scorpius looked for his mother, to announce his return, and found her, as usual sitting in the music room.

The music room and the drawing room were quite similar, because originally they had been a single, enormous ballroom. They had been split about a century ago, when Lyra Malfoy and Eridanus Malfoy, two siblings with completely opposite personalities lived under the same roof. Lyra was a witch of many talents, among them her greatest was music, and she loved to be enveloped in blazing, pompous melodies every second of the day. Eridanus on the other hand was a man of the arts, enjoyed the silence as he drew. Coexisting in the same room proved impossible, therefore they created their own, separate spaces, each keeping the furniture of their fancy on their side. Astoria had told him the story when he was three years old and ever since he had requested that she repeat it many times.

Astoria Malfoy smiled from her purple armchair. She had been leaning her head against her hand, enjoying a soft tune coming from an enchanted gramophone close to her.

Her face was pale and a shade of purple showed beneath her eyes, but she wore her smile well. She had told Scorpius she had caught a slight case of pixie flu, which she got from Tatiana Goyle, when she had come over for tea a few weeks before the Christmas break. She was always a little frail and slow to recover, but she already looked considerably better than she had when Scorpius had returned from school.

“Here you are… I wanted to speak to you.”

“Yes, Mother?” Scorpius approached her and carried a chair over to sit close to her.

“I’ve been talking to your Father and he said that he doesn’t want anything too grand for Christmas.” She stopped to clear her throat. “We will have dinner with Lucius and Narcissa. And Daphne said she would also try to make it. I convinced him though to do something special for the New Year.”

Astoria Malfoy had a love for the winter holidays that her husband lacked. In the Greengrass household, where she came from, Christmas was celebrated grandly with reunions with extended family. At New Year’s Eve they organized a small ball on their family home. Things lacked this certain spark since she had become a Malfoy, but sometimes she could push little victories through. This year for instance at New Year’s, other pure-blood families would come for dinner and a small party. She took care so that all the boys Scorpius had mentioned in his letters were in the guest list.

Scorpius nodded, trying to look eager. The other Slytherins didn’t feel like friends to him; merely allies. He smiled and thanked her, wanting to please her.

The first half of the holidays passed uninterestingly; the presents awaited beneath the Malfoy Christmas tree and were opened exactly on midnight, but in a slow and unenthusiastic manner, with the exception of Astoria Malfoy. She thanked him for the matching earrings and ring and wore them on the spot. His Grandfather turned around the wand sheath and nodded approvingly and so did his Grandmother. Aunt Daphne put on her bracelet and wiggled her wrist so that the charms hanging from it clicked to each other. She smiled a little.

Scorpius’s attention turned to Draco. He picked up his present and unwrapped it, revealing no emotion whatsoever. His eyebrows lifted when he understood its contents and it raised the quill to inspect it in the light. “Augurey. They make interesting quills. It is nice.” He then inspected also the ink pot and put the tip of the quill in, as if testing it. “Very nice.” Scorpius smiled. It was a rare thing for Draco Malfoy to make a compliment of something - anything and with such ease. “Penny,” he said and the house elf hurried to enter the room. “Take this to my office.”

Grandfather scorned at the sight of the house elf, knowing she was free, quite differently than he believed things should be. To him it didn’t matter that Penny refused to receive a salary, he simply could not approve of something so absurd.

“You still haven’t replaced it?” he asked, in an unpleasant tone.

Draco shot a look at his son meaningfully. “Now is not the time.”

“Father, what does he mean?” Scorpius would normally not ask something so straightaway, but he knew what it meant. There was no way he would allow them to send Penny away.

“Of all the house elves in the world, you chose this, the f-f-fr- Ah, I can’t even say the word!” Lucius raised an arm in the air in frustration.

Something snapped in Scorpius. He glared at his Grandfather and for one second he thought he shouldn’t have bothered getting him a present. “Penny isn’t going anywhere. I like her. And if you fire her, I will hire her back as my personal house elf.” He turned around and once he was out of sight he sped up, running to his room. He meant it. He had the savings his parents had given him, for his personal expenses. They were more than enough to hire a house elf for a lifetime. He realized he was the only one who hadn’t opened his presents. It didn’t matter; he wasn’t going back down.

* * * * *

Wiltshire, just like all the surrounding area, had been shrouded in a cape of endless white for the holidays, a strong snowstorm enveloping everything in a melancholic aura. Had Scorpius company, the endless gardens with the hedge fences and the fountains might have proven as the perfect playground; not that was anything more ridiculous than a Malfoy galloping over the snow, having fun as if there was nothing constructive to do. Mother argued that it was good to let go once in a while, but Scorpius knew his Father would not approve of it. Besides, playing in the cold alone held no interest whatsoever.

On the day after Christmas his Mother waited on his bedside so he would wake up. It was the most embarrassing moment, because Scorpius knew that his eyes would be red and swollen; he didn’t want anyone to know he had cried last night.

“Nobody’s firing Penny,” Astoria assured him. She ran a hand through his hair, as if he was still a little boy. “You know your Grandfather’s views on the matter. It’s almost impossible to change his mind in his age.”

“But at some point Father will-”

“That’s why I am here. I won’t let him. Don’t you trust me?”

Scorpius nodded. “I do, of course, but, Mother…”

“But nothing. I may not look like it, but I have the last say in this house and your Father knows it.” She stood up. “Sleep in, it is still too early. I asked Penny to leave your presents here for you. Open them whenever you like.”

Once she left the room, he jumped out of the bed and ran to the presents. He felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. There were five presents and he could tell just from the wrapping which present was from whom. The flat package, sealed only with black wax, stamped with the crest of the Malfoys was obviously from Father. From Grandfather and Grandmother was a bag, tied with a velvet, green ribbon. Mother’s present had a card sandwiched between the wrapping paper and the ribbon, as she did every year and Aunt Daphne’s was large, loosely wrapped and had already drawn Rapax’s attention; he was watching it from his cushion across the room. The last one was a simple basket of freshly baked Christmas biscuits, which could have been from no one else other than Penny.

He started from his Grandparents; it was a formal cloak, a simple, but regal grey. For the New Year’s Party, was written in Grandmother’s elegant handwriting. Next he opened Father’s, which was, as he suspected, a book with historical references to the Greatest British Wizards of the Middle Ages. He had mentioned he wanted it in one of his letters. Mother had given him a small, heavy box, but it was locked. He jingled it a bit, but its contents remained unknown. He also tried an unlocking charm but it didn’t work. He wondered what that meant.

He took a bite out of Penny’s biscuits before moving on to Daphne’s present. He might need his strength when he opened it. Daphne was always a peculiar one. He tore the wrapping paper apart and opened the cardboard box. Inside was a glass case and he carefully moved it to his bed. Inside lay seven glistening spheres, each smaller than an eyeball, reddish-brown in colour. Scorpius checked the box again. There was a piece of paper on its bottom saying:

Fire Salamander eggs. Place tray without the glass cover over red flame for 70 minutes, or over blue flame for 25 minutes. Then remove, place the cover and wait for 20 more minutes, until the eggs hatch completely.

The first part was written neatly in calligraphic letters, but looked printed. Underneath was something more written, undoubtedly in Aunt Daphne’s writing:

They’re interesting to watch, thought you would love them. They don’t last too long away from a fire though. They’re delicious, although a bit spicy and it would be a shame for such delicacies to go to waste, but I am not sure if you have the stomach for it. They told me they’re not poisonous to jarveys either.

Have fun!

Daphne

If he had opened it last night, Father might have said for one more time that it was no wonder Daphne didn’t get marriage proposals. Scorpius took the tray with him to the first floor, into the music room and placed the eggs in its ember flames, waiting for the 90 minutes to pass, reading his new book under a Christmas tune coming from Mother’s gramophone.

Penny burst in the room after approximately forty minutes had passed. Scorpius set down his book. Had she heard the fight yesterday? Does she want to ask if we’ll fire her? “Master, Kreacher asked me to give you this.” She held out a package wrapped in an absurd paper with Santas printed on it and a striped white and red string. Couldn’t have come from anyone I know.

“Who’s this Kreacher anyway?” he asked out loud.

“H-he’s the Potters’ house elf.”

Scorpius’s pale eyes grew huge. He took the package and turned it around, noticing it warily. Harry Potter? He probably doesn't even know him. Is it a prank from James? Why would he bother? Albus P- It is from Albus!

“Do you know why this Kreacher gave it to you? They could have send me an owl.” Or not sent it at all.

“Penny and Kreacher meet sometimes, Master… In their free time. And Kreacher’s Master wanted to be sure it would reach you specifically, that is what he told Kreacher.”

“Sounds a little shady…” Scorpius mumbled, but shrugged. He untied the string and the packaging was removed easily. It was a book. The first from this series Potter had seen him read. There was a card underneath the front cover.

I wanted to apologize and see if I can make amends. I am sorry for Rose, I thought she was stopping on her own and that made me tell myself it was alright to postpone talking to her. I realize I was wrong. Since Christmas is the season of forgiveness and all, I decided to give it a try.

Please keep the book even if you don’t choose to forgive me,

Merry Christmas,

A.S.Potter

“Are you alright, Master? Can I get you anything?” Penny asked, concerned about the blank look on Scorpius’s eyes. They traveled across the card over and over again, trying to make the words sink in.

Eventually he flipped the cover open, to put the card back inside. There was something written on the blank space between the title and the publication date: To forgiving classmates… or maybe not. Scorpius wondered if Albus meant it, or if he did it just to rid him with guilt. It wouldn’t work though. What had happened was Potter’s and even more Weasley’s fault.

“Yes, maybe you can… How well did you say that you know this Kreacher?”

Penny’s face lit up. She kneeled down on the carpet and sat, occupying her hands with folding the discarded wrapping. “Oh, Kreacher is Penny’s friend. Penny’s old Masters used to be friends with the Blacks and Penny helped Kreacher prepare food together when they met for dinner and Kreacher said his master could help me later when my Masters died… He has been very nice to me and it is rare for Kreacher to be nice, so I think he is a real friend to have done so.”

“And does he talk about the Potters?”

The house elf pursed her lips together, looking thoughtfully at the string wrapped around her thin fingers. “He does sometimes. When he is excited about something, or if Master James does something very aggravating to him. Or if I ask.”

“When do you think you can meet him again?”

“Penny hopes she can after the New Year’s party in the Manor is over and all the excess kitchenware has been washed. So perhaps two days after the party.”

Scorpius nodded. “Good. I don’t want you to tell him anything about this, but ask him for news from Albus Potter. I want to know how he’s spending his holidays, what he’s up to.”

She nodded. “Penny will do her best, Master Scorpius. But you’ll have to excuse Penny now, because she has a stew that requires her attention in the kitchens.” She removed her presence from the room with an audible pop and Scorpius was left alone. He glanced at the grandfather clock across him; the ninety minutes were nearly done. He approached the hearth, looking through the flames and shuffled through the bucket full of fireplace instruments to find something appropriate to drag the tray out of the fire; the instructions didn’t mention how he was supposed to do that!

After much struggle the tray, radiating with heat so intensely that sweat dripped down the boy’s face, was placed on a table and its glass cover on top of it as the instructions requested. The eggs began to crack, losing their colour as the salamanders, black speckled with orange and red, slid out of the shells, leaving them transparent. Their little tongues flickered in and out of their mouths and they stood on all fours, investigating their surroundings.

Scorpius decided that they were too strange to try eating; maybe too strange to even let Rapax eat them.

* * * * *

There was this one place in the Manor, that no matter the weather outside, was always perfect. It had a soothing effect on Scorpius and he enjoyed spending his spare time there, immersing himself in a book. It was a patio, trapped between external stone walls of the Manor to its center, with a glass roof protecting it from the conditions outside. Jasmine and honeysuckle climbed up the walls, twirling green sprouts around lamp posts and brass pipes, grasping on any uneven surface they had at their disposal. In the middle of it grew a jacaranda tree. At that time, in the middle of the winter, it was bare of all signs of green; in the spring though it flourished, first full of purple flowers and then little, green, fern-like leaves appeared, hanging downwards like an umbrella.

The peacocks that wandered near the hedges in the rest of the year, seeked refuge in the patio during the freezing winter. Their pure white plumage stood out against the greenery, as they wandered about in search of seeds and crumbs on the ground; Penny used to show up about thrice a week to leave them leftovers from the kitchens.

Scorpius had been immensely interested in the charms shielding the room, maintaining the internal is such a steady condition compared to the unpredictable outside; it had more protection more than a regular greenhouse would offer. From what he knew, there was no Malfoy ancestor who was a great name in Herbology, so he knew not, whom to give the credit to for this architectural achievement. His fire salamanders had long perished, although they managed to win a few hours of extra life when he put them back into the fire. He dared biting the tail of one in the end, the temptation too great to resist and it was a wonder how he didn’t curse Aunt Daphne out loud at that very instant. His tongue was still sore after all these days and the eve of the New Year was almost there.

Penny had hardy the time to speak to Scorpius, always running up and down, always frantically making preparations. The final result though was worth it; perfect, as the Malfoy had wanted. Mother’s gramophone had been brought downstairs, as the living room had been transformed to a ball room, furniture set aside to allow space for the dancers. Astoria had tried to invite also some families with girls about the age of Scorpius, so the Luppets, the Metrons and the Zabinis would be there.

All the boys he saw on a daily basis at school had come, looking slightly different in their formal cloaks. Opal was neat as a ninepence, Oshwell breaking the tradition in his tie and more muggle-styled costume and Goyle somewhat awkward-looking and too big for his formal attire. Felix was a familiar sight, being a more frequent visitor of the Manor, so Scorpius hardly noticed anything peculiar about his presence. Evannina was rather charming and doll like, with her glossy black hair reaching down to her waist. She wore a simple silken dress, in a characteristic design Scorpius had only seen in Twilfitt and Tatting's.

The Zabinis and the Metrons made fashionably late appearances. The children were more of a crowd than the adults, as both were big families. The Zabini twins, Eva and Cassius stood as far from each other as possible, Cassius letting the Metrons stand between them, almost as a barrier.

He had heard Cassius had been ostracized by his own family; he had been sorted in Ravenclaw last year, and chose to hang out with the Scamander boys, of all people! Those two were mere wildlings, always traveling with their parents all over Europe, looking for potentially non-existent magical creatures. At least, that’s what the rumors said.

Eva Zabini on the other hand, had been a perfect, little Slytherin, without quite the achievement record of her sister, Adelaide, who was one of the House’s prefects, but since she was still in her second year, she had time to catch up. Scorpius noticed how Eva lingered closer to her mother.

The Metrons were an even bigger bunch, being six counting the adults and their offspring. Eleanor and Leslie were familiar faces to him, dressed up expensively and wearing hair clips that might cost more than all of the books for a year at Hogwarts. The eldest two had already graduated, but he knew their names; Patricia was the girl and Richard was the young man. Scorpius couldn’t stare at them for too long though; it hurt his eyes. There was a blatant contrast between them and the youngest Metrons.

The “children” sat on one side of the long table of the dining hall, plates and silverware already placed in their proper places for them and the “adults” on the other, so they could discuss whatever matters they desired without the disturbance of the young ones, since not all were as disciplined as Scorpius.

The food that night appeared and disappeared magically out of their plates, in a way that, combined with his Housemates surrounding him, made him feel like he returned to school one week early.

“... So after that, we definitely need to retaliate. It was a most badly tasting joke and a costly one at that!” Lesley concluded, describing the sorrow that had befallen them on the Hogwarts Express.

“I wished I was nearby, to catch them in the act,” Adelaide said, with pretended sadness. “But I was on the very end of the train.” Where you were obviously enjoying yourself more, Scorpius judged from her look.

Ryan, unfamiliar with Cassius’s circumstances due to his extended stay in the States, discussed with him in a casual manner, sharing his impressions of the wizards of the New World compared to the ones in Britain. Scorpius came to the conclusion that this would be the discussion that might be most substantial to all the rest, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to speak to Cassius. Not in front of Father at least.

“This pie is really good!” Ryan exclaimed, his mouth still half-full.

Scorpius smiled somewhat to himself; Penny’s culinary talent was indeed commendable. He wished Grandfather was there to hear that. Dessert was soon served and once out of the way, Scorpius’s hopes for a post-midnight snack were extinguished, knowing how much Goyle had gobbled down; Penny was far too generous, making two pieces appear after one was gone. They all moved on to the living room, where the crystal chandeliers were lit only dimly, to create a more romantic atmosphere. He looked around nervously, knowing that a romantic atmosphere was the last thing he needed around Evannina or the Metrons. He opted for the least likely to misinterpret his intentions candidate, and took Adelaide’s hand, who looked somewhat relieved of being spared a dance with Richard.

The gramophone boomed with classical music, unfolding in the room as if the sound came from all directions, on one side violins and violas, on the other flutes and clarinets. It was as if they had their own Orchestra playing just for them.

Scorpius felt a little funny, dancing with a girl a good thirty centimeters taller than him, so he turned his head to his side, looking at the others. They were dancing funny, not quite in sync and Patricia continuously stepping on Goyle’s feet. He had a strange look on his face, which was probably annoyance and a vague contemplation on if it would be okay to punch her. Ryan was left on the side, seated on a sofa with Cassius, unknowingly also set aside because he spoke to him, but not having noticed the fact.

Lesley and Eleanor alternated with each other to dance with their brother, doing him quite a favor as Nina Luppet and Eva Zabini did not offer to. Nina chose the more timid Mitchell, while Eva had gone with Felix, who spoke on and on about his love of Quidditch. Eva listened attentively as they swayed to the music, because of interest or future gossiping reference, nobody knew.

The music paused and the lights went out one minute before midnight and Scorpius let go of Adelaide, feeling two awkward holding her in the dark. He shuffled his feet towards a window, illuminated by the pale moonlight. They lit up again and a wave of noise came from the children, wishing “Happy New Year” to each other merrily. Scorpius exchanged wishes with them as well, although he could not exhibit as much fervour as they did.

The night ended shortly after one o'clock, where all interest of dancing was gone and all, but hopeful, ugly Richard, were splayed on the sofas, struggling between awareness and a sweet drowsiness. Scorpius noticed a satisfied smile on Mother’s face, as he climbed up the stairs to fall in the embrace of his soft bed.

* * * * *

“Would you play something for me, dear?” Astoria asked her son, who was observing mystified the melting snowflakes on the window panes of the music room.

“But I haven’t practiced in a long time, Mother.”

She smiled. “That doesn’t matter. Talent lies in the spontaneous moments of life, if there’s the will, practice matters little.”

Scorpius thought it was the other way around and practice made perfect. He couldn’t help but yearn though for the pleased look on her face when he played, even if he played a bit out of tune. While he was at home, it was common of the two of them to sit there in the weekend afternoons, Astoria moving her fingers to the music coming from the piano, or joining Scorpius with her harp.

The harp played even if no one touched the strings, since Aunt Daphne’s first year in Hogwarts. The Greengrasses had lent the harp to a friend and it was returned to them oddly enough, in a package with a note from Professor Dumbledore, apologizing for being unable to undo the enchantment that urged it to play. At least it was pleasant, always alternating between relaxing melodies. Father had cast silencing charms at it numerous times though, finding its constant playing insufferable.

The boy nodded, deciding to satisfy his mother’s wishes and played a Christmas carol, which was the first thing that crossed his mind. They played for a good two hours before the thing gnawing his mind for the last days emerged, coming back to his immediate thoughts by the presence of Penny by the door. He excused himself and motioned her towards his room on the second floor.

“So? Did you learn anything?”

Penny nodded urgently. “Penny doesn’t know if this is interesting information, but Master Albus has been spending all of his time in his bedroom, except now, because they went to their Weasley grandparents for the New Year.” Scorpius didn’t know if that was normal or not; he had no idea if Albus was a loner; at school he was always with his detestable cousin.

“Anything else?” He urged her to continue.

She pursed her lips together in thought. “Kreacher said, he thought it was curious. He had an old chest of House Black that he had not seen for over thirty years. Inside were some journals. He thinks that this is what Master Albus is studying so feverishly.”

Dark magic? he wondered. It would be no wonder for the Blacks, they had quite a tight history with shady arts, just like most of the Sacred Twenty Seven, the truly pure Wizarding families.

“Does he know whose are the journals?”

“Kreacher doesn’t know. But he thinks they’re from the youngest generation of Blacks. But it is not Master Regulus’s writing. He says he knows his scripture, he had been taught to imitate it in case the circumstances called for it.”

Regulus Black… He had heard the name, a long dead cousin of Grandmother Narcissa. The youngest cousin of Sirius Black… His mind reeled. What do I know about Sirius Black? Gryffindor, framed for betrayal and murder of his friends, proven to be false, godfather of Harry Potter… He could not fathom what could be this fascinating about him. He had to investigate more. “Penny, if you may find the time after your work is done, find me the family records from Father’s study. If he asks tell him I requested them.”

“Most certainly, Master Scorpius,” Penny responded eagerly.

Scorpius hoped he had more information by the time he returned to school. But he had only five days to do that.