Chapter Twenty-Two: Lost and Lost

                                    

                                          


                          
I'm so sorry. College is so much harder than what I thought it would be, and I've had so little time to update here... I'm just so impossibly sad and lonely and...
                          
Well, actually, the truth is that I've been having a little too good of a time and I've not had the time. I'm sorry and I will try to update more frequently. I know that's not nearly adequate enough of an excuse but I'm hoping that this chapter makes up for it. 
                          
Love you all!
                          
Lily
                          


                          
At first, the letters from home were too much to handle. Scorpius answered only his father's missives, knowing that if he did not provide constant proof of his well-being Draco would hire a professional to kidnap him and have him brought home. He hid the letters from Rose, Lily, Albus, and James beneath piles of scorched clothing. 
                          
Working with dragons was not something he had ever envisioned himself doing, and he wondered at times why exactly he was bothering, especially when Smaug the Hungarian Horntail singed nearly all of his hair and tore rips in the supposedly durable trainer's clothes he wore. 
                          
Ostensibly Scorpius had been hired because he was a Healer and capable of helping with rehabilitation for dragons harmed by poachers, but he was often needed for other tasks, such as feeding. 
                          
Within weeks he found himself an entirely new person, however. The hot sun on the Egyptian reserve had completely destroyed his formerly pale Malfoy complexion, and the hard work, lifting, and long hours of walks in the desert had given him-oddly enough- muscles. He had never been muscular in his life, preferring instead to sit for long hours hunched at a desk scratching away with a quill. 
                          
And needless to say, his hair was shorter- it was growing in nearly white, bleached by the sun, wind, and sand. 
                          
"You know, Scorpius," one of his coworkers, Dan, said one day, "when Smaug here is healed you might be allowed to ride him."
                          
"Ride a dragon?" Scorpius was not sure that he liked this idea. "He's already half destroyed me on the ground." 
                          
It appeared that Smaug did not like this idea overmuch, either. He shot another scorching blast at the pair and then, snorting disdainfully, turned his large spiked head away to stare at the shimmers of heat coming off of the dunes outside the reserve. 
                          
Scorpius absentmindedly swatted at his burning socks, then turned back to Dan. "Better not, I think. We done here? Don't much fancy another bucket of ice water to the face, which is what I'll need if I stay around here much longer."
                          
Dan nodded. "I get it. Listen- why don't you go and check on Sinbad's wing gash? I think the bandages might need changing, and Sinbad's in no condition to kill you just now."
                          
Scorpius nodded and exited Smaug's large stone-walled enclosure. He pulled his father's latest letter from the pocket of his robes, which he noted were once again growing too tight for him. 
                          
                    Scorpius, 
                          
                    Needless to say you are missed. I shall then devote my time to telling you about other, less important matters which require more ink to discuss.
                          
                    My life at home is a relatively quiet one, as it involves mostly my daily routine, which you of course know very well, and my dealings with foreign business executives, about which I assume you know relatively little. We shall have to make amends for that, as my newest venture is one I should rather like you to join me in. You may never have had quite the head for numbers which I do, of course- but then again, you have always been rather better with human beings. 
                          
 Scorpius snorted at that. It was an entirely untrue statement. 
                          
                  You laugh, I know- but it is true nonetheless. Besides, even if I were so fortunate as to possess half a pound of charisma, which I do not, I would still be unable to extend my interests here in Britain. There are some stains which never truly leave us. 
                          
                 Enough about that. 
                          
                  You have probably heard about James Potter's recent success in the business of hair potions. Everybody seems to be surprised. I am not. It was only a matter of time before that family started selling people cheap tricks again. I could tell you more about the Potters of course- for example, Albus is recently engaged and to a man, which again has surprised everyone but me- Seth Wood is either a lucky man or a man very much to be pitied, depending on how much Albus's hormones have changed since I last saw him. I err on the side of pity. 
                          
                    But enough about the Potters. I want very much to know, Scorpius, when it is you plan to come home. Potter's wedding- damn it, I've done it again- will be in a couple of months, and I'm planning on expanding our interests in the magic carpet industry soon. I had hoped you would be available to assist me with some of the less tedious meetings. 
                          
                     I also ran into an old friend of yours the other day, Scorpius. A female friend, one who I understand was once very close to you-
                          
Scorpius's heart stopped, and momentarily he considered turning around and feeding the unfortunate communication to Smaug so as not to have to hear about her again. However, his heart once again overcame his desire to be unfeeling and cold. He continued to read. 
                          
                    Polly  Chapman-
                          
Scorpius scoffed.
                          
                    - was incredibly solicitous about your health and whereabouts- more than is perfectly proper, I believe. Should you return, I believe she might be more than willing to continue your old aquaintanceship.
                          
                     Although her father's significant shareholdings in the market I wish to pursue do not bear weight in this matter, I should be pleased if you would consider answering her last message to you. I hope you do not mind that I gave her your address. 
                          
                      Son, I do wish you would return. Whatever is holding you there in Egypt, or keeping you from home- whatever it is that is making you ignore your friends' correspondence- please return. 
                          
                       Your affectionate father, 
                          
                                              Draco Lucius Malfoy
                          
Scorpius swore and flung the missive from him. With a puff of flame from Sinbad, a glittering blue Russian Azul, it disappeared. 
                          
He wished he could remove its contents from his head as easily. But one thing was for sure. 
                          
He would attend Albus's wedding. Even if it meant seeing her.