The Choice

He was waiting in the small sitting room. In his own manor, for heaven’s sake! But he was terrified. In the dining room, the Death Eater council was in session, presided over by Voldemort.

They had been betrayed. One of the Aurors assigned to protect them had fallen under the Imperius Curse, and everything had been revealed.

‘Children from the future had arrived in the past. Children of Death Eaters but also others, Harry Potter’s sons !’

Dumbledore had taken care to enchant them a few days after their arrival so they could reveal nothing. But could the spell break under Voldemort’s Cruciatus? The man was furious enough to try his luck.

He had fought when the men in black ambushed them. When he was captured, he pretended not to know them, but they knew exactly who he was.

‘You’re going to see Grandpa Lucius,’ a tall, gangly man with blackened teeth had whispered to him. His clothes reeked of earth and sweat. He had held him close, his foul, damp breath on his neck, his breathing heavy upon him.

A shadow approached, and the putrid stench of old blood hit his nostrils. A hulking man stood nearby, cloaked in black, with yellowed, pointed teeth, dark eyes, and a hairy body.

‘Well, what do we have here?’

He leaned toward the boy and sniffed.

‘You smell good, Treasure. Purebloods always have the best scent. But they don’t let us have a bite.’

He smiled, baring all his sharp, ferocious teeth.

‘Fenrir,’ Scorpius thought. He was surrounded by Snatchers. But they weren’t called that yet.

He was trapped... in the past.

End of prologue.

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