Monday, April 4

Chapter Twenty-Three of Family Legacy

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Muggle Killings

Hazel was still radiating heat when we ate breakfast in the Great Hall. Albus was edging away from her, I suspected that she had been arguing with him all morning. I just leaned back, ate my sausages, and watched the show.
While we were at the Weasley’s party, Mr. Weasley and Dad were talking in the front hall. Around eight o’clock or so, all of the guests could hear explosions and raised voices, even over the horrible Muggle music that was playing. When Hazel and I got to the door, in front of everyone, Mr. Weasley had blown a hole in the opposite wall, and Dad was standing his ground with his wand drawn.
After that, everyone had their wands out.
“How can you say that Mr. Weasley didn’t start it? Do you think that Dad started it?” Hazel had abandoned her orange juice and muffin and was glaring daggers at her best friend.
“Well, it is up for debate,” Albus said tentivally. “And none of us were there, so we don’t know.”
I winced, seeing Hazel swell taller. “Debate?” she spat. “Okay, Albus. Let’s have a debate.”
I jumped away from the Slytherin like it had burned me. “I can’t take much more of this,” I muttered, and moved to the Hufflepuff table. I sat on the edge of the table, respectively. I knew by now that nobody would sit with me, and if I did sit next to someone I would be glared at. Any other day I may have not cared, but Hazel’s constant arguing was getting on my nerves.
I took a bite out of crisp toast. It’s butter and crumbs stuck to my chin, and the rest floated down to land on my black robes. As I brushed the little bits of wheat off, a thump distracted me.
The Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, a thin six year named Jack Jecka was probably the only person in Hufflepuff who had liked me. He always wore his yellow and black sweater, and now was grasping a sleek Firebolt in his hand.
“Yes?” I began tentivally.
Jack smiled at me. “Scorpius, right?” I nodded, and he went on. “Did you hear what happened to Edin Taylor, our Seeker?”
“Well, she broke up with her boyfriend,” I noticed that he went very red at that statement. “And he’s on the team… So, she quit, and since you were our second choice, I’m inviting you back onto the team.”
“Really?” I asked. Jack nodded, and I grinned. “Great! I’ll do it.”
“Good, Scorpius.” Jack stood up and patted me on the back. “So, practices are every Monday, Thursday, and Sunday.”
“Why so many?” I asked, shoving toast into my mouth. Crumbs sprayed everywhere, but I was too excited to brush them off of my robes. “Slytherin and Gryffindor haven’t even started. They will in March. We’re two months early.”
Jack looked delighted. “You have friends on the other team? Great! Do you think you can tell us what they say?”
I looked to the side and shrugged. “I guess.” Hazel and Albus didn’t tell me that much. They usually just argued.
Quidditch! I thought ecstatically. Just like Dad, I’m a Seeker!
For some reason though, a little voice nagged at my head. He wasn’t on the Hufflepuff team, was he?
“Stop!” I told myself. I leaned on my elbow as Jack trotted back to the rest of the team, who always ate together. “Lucias and Narcissa aren’t like that anymore. You don’t have to keep hearing them in your head!”
If they’ve really changed. Hazel, Dad, Mum, and Albus may believe it, but too many of my memories included them yelling, the Howler… There was just too much to forgive. I shook my head, strands of white blond hair flying everywhere.
You’re on the Quidditch team, I reminded myself. Keep thinking that way, Seeker.
Hazel plopped down beside me. Her cheeks were flushed pink and she was breathing hard. I glanced backwards, hoping that my sister hadn’t killed Albus or anything.
“Okay, Albus and I have stopped fighting now,” she said. “Will you come back to our table?”
I opened my mouth to tell her the good news, but my voice faltered as the owls swooped into the Great Hall. Hazel gazed up at the ceiling, eyes narrowing.
“Are there more of them now?” she asked. I shrugged, and pointed to Accio, who was taking long, lazy circles over our heads.
“Accio,” I hissed, patting the table. The brown owl landed lightly on the Hufflepuff table, and held out his leg. He dipped his beak into my glass of milk and began taking small sips.
Leaving Hazel to untie the letter I looked up to the ceiling and dreamed of all of the Quidditch matches Hufflepuff would win once I was on the team…
“Scorp,” Hazel said suddenly. She held out the letter from our parents, which was short and looked like Dad rushed to write it.

Dear Hazel and Scorpius,
Lucias and Narcissa left the Manor early this morning and went down to the Muggle village. There, they killed several Muggles and are now being transported to the Ministry, where they will almost certainly be placed in Azkaban.

I looked up, gasping. “What? But I thought that they were good now…” Hazel looked grim, and I ducked down to read the rest of the letter.

No doubt all of the other parents are telling their children to avoid you two. The news was in the Daily Prophet this morning, and that blasted Rita Skeeter wrote it. And you know how she feels about the Malfoys.
Remember that your Mum and I love you,

I frowned. “Since when does he conclude his letters with Dad? Every other time it’s been Draco Malfoy, right?” I stared at Hazel, hoping that I wasn’t missing something.
“Seriously, Albus,” Hazel said. “Dad’s parents are going to Azkaban! Of course he’s stressed out about it! And the way that he spends all day lurking around Malfoy Manor does no help at all,” she added disdainfully. “So if he signs letter weirdly it’s the least of his and our worries.”
“What are our worries?” I asked.
Hazel rolled her eyes and sighed. “Scorp, everyone’s been telling us for years that Lucias and Narcissa deserved to be in Azkaban, and now they’ve done something else that proves their point. Muggle-killing.” She gestured to the students, who had quieted down upon receiving the news. “See?”
“Muggle-borns, run for your life!” A seventh-year from the Gryffindor table said. “The two Malfoy twins are going to kill you like their grandparents murdered your kin!”
“Will you shut up?” I shouted. The Great Hall fell silent and I blushed, unused to having so many eyes on me. “We are not Lucias and Narcissa! Now you all better be careful, or I’ll, I’ll get my Dad to turn you all into beetles.” Hazel, for once didn’t say anything, just smiled at me.
She leaned forward, not caring about the silence that surrounded us like a heavy shroud. “Nice, Scorp. You show them.” She stood from the table and walked back to the Slytherins, glaring at everyone the entire way there.
I sank down onto the table. Was I becoming like my grandparents? They too threatened everyone like that. Guilt made the toast I had just eaten churn in my stomach.
Was I destined to be nothing but a Malfoy?

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