Who Will Stop the Rain

Sins of the Father

Draco stared up at the darkened theatre, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. This was it - the final trial. He had no idea what to expect, but he marched up towards the front entrance with his wand drawn, ready for whatever he had to face.

Draco could sense the magic radiating off of the building as he approached - the Fidelius charm, he was sure of it - the air buzzed with a low hum and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Or perhaps that was because he was afraid, because Draco had never been more frightened in his life. He knew now that he had to die to save his son - it was the only way - but certainty did little to alleviate his fear. It was one thing being scared of dying, it was quite another knowing your days (minutes, in his case) were numbered. But despite the dread that rose in him with each step, his feet continued to carry him forward. Draco reached the front door and gave it a slight push and it opened with ease as though death were inviting him in. Stealing himself, he stepped into the darkened entrance, into the unknown.

"Lumos," he murmured, and white light illuminated the tip of his wand. Eerie shadows crawled up the bare, peeling wallpaper as he stepped further down the corridor, straining his ears for any sign of life. The theatre seemed to have suffered a similar fate to Malfoy Manor - long abandoned and left to rot, the smell of mould and damp filled his nostrils. Draco paused as the corridor split off into three different directions. He didn't have time to search the place floor by floor, he needed to find Scorpius now.

"Homenum Revelio," he whispered. A silver-blue orb of light shot out of the tip of his wand, floating silently and with some speed down the corridor to his left. Draco ran after the light, following it through a labyrinth of corridors, left, right and right again, finally pushing open a set of double doors into a large, derelict theatre.

A large portion of the roof had collapsed onto the stage, rain pouring through the gaping hole in the ceiling like a waterfall. The ball of light drifted lazily across the sodden, mouldy seating area, through the rain then slowed as it came to the centre of the stage before lowering down into the floor, out of sight. Draco ran forwards, climbing over debris onto the stage and edged towards the place where the ball of light had disappeared. Draco gasped and collapsed onto his knees.

"Scorpius!"

There was his son, beneath the stage trap door in what Draco now realised was not a well after all, but a large, circular tank. The rainwater was up to Scorpius' chin now, sloshing and splashing across his pale, frightened face. The only thing stopping him from slipping under water was the metal grate covering the top of the tank which he clung to desperately.

"Dad!" he cried, reaching out for his father with one hand while clinging to the grate with the other. Draco took his hand and squeezed it hard.

"You're going to be okay, son," he assured him. "Daddy's here, now. Just hold on, I'll get you out of there."

"Dad, I'm sorry. The man made me go with him, I didn't want to--"

"It's alright. You've nothing to be sorry for, son," said Draco firmly. He gave Scorpius' hand another reassuring squeeze and pointed his wand at the heavy metal padlock, "Alohomora!"

Nothing happened.

"Shit," he hissed. He tried to give his son a reassuring look. "Scorpius, I need you to move back to the edge of the tank. Face the wall and cover your face, okay?"

Scorpius nodded vigorously and paddled over to the edge of the tank, coughing and spluttering as water got up his nose. Draco pointed his wand at the padlock again.

"Turn around," he ordered. "Confringo!"

There was a loud explosion and Scorpius screamed, but he kept his face hidden behind his arm. The padlock however, remained undamaged. Draco snarled in frustration, desperately thinking of alternative spells.