A/N: Okay, so I don't how many people are still reading these fanfictions, but I was suddenly inspired and entered a "Harry Potter period" in my writing, so here you are.

Hope you enjoy ;)

The boy was ripped out of his pleasant slumber by a deep growl, followed by a kick to his stomach. He let out a painful groan and forced open his heavy eyelids. The smoke filled his nostrils with the sickening smell of burned flesh and his throat with burning ash. He coughed and sat up, strained by his sore muscles, feeling his guts turning, threatening to spill out. The boy took in a deep breath, calming his stressed body and looked up. He didn't need to look around, didn't need to investigate further, from what caused the smell and all around unpleasant feeling. He knew all too well about the burning ruins behind him. He knew about the bodies scattered around him. He knew about the screams of agony whispering in his ears. He knew about the faces, twisted in fear and the feel of utter helplessness. He had seen it all before, like a reoccurring nightmare. Granted, the first time he had seen this, he had been terrified and cried for days afterwards, not able to forget about the horrific images. However, he had been no more than five back then, so he thought himself to be excused, for his reaction to seeing his family and friends brutally murdered.

"So, you left the States, did you?"

The boy glared up at the figure hovering over him, icy blue eyes staring back down at him, with a wicked grin on thin pale lips.

"Yeah, about that," The boy replied sourly, not hiding his displeasure, "Thanks a lot, for chasing my family out."

The black cloaked figure in front of him chuckled and squatted down to face him, the smirk never faltering.

"Don't tell me, you believe I won't find you, just because you leave the country." He said as his smirk grew, "I almost had you back then, next time I won't be so careless and miss such a glorious opportunity."

The boy sneered back at the man, glaring defiantly, showing no hint of insecurity.

"This game is getting old, isn't it?" He asked, sounding bored and faked a yawn to prove his point, "Don't you have better things to do than chasing after a teenage boy."

The cloaked figure scoffed and stood up, cold eyes holding his glance.

"Sure, I do." He said with a little enthusiasm, "Loads! And I'll get right on those, as soon as said teenage boy is dead and won't be able to stop me, doing those better things."

The figure graphed the boy by his throat and pulled him up.

"Mark my words, I'll find you." He growled, voice dangerously low, "It is not over yet."

The boy sneered angrily as he glared back at the man. He took a hold of the hand holding him.

"Get out of my head." He said through gritted teeth and in the next moment an invisible blast tore the two apart.

(…)

The boy woke by a hard knock on his bedroom door and groaned annoyed as he turned in bed, pulling his pillow over his head. Much to his dismay, he heard the sound of his door being opened and soon the covers were pulled off of him mercilessly. He peeked out from under his pillow, giving the blonde grown up a most dissatisfied look.

"Don't give me that look young man." His dad said sternly and pointed a finger at him, "It's already late as it is. The Express will be leaving, in no more than three hours." He pointed out, with one glance at his watch.

The boy let out another groan, not hiding his displeasure, as he buried his face back into the pillow, indicating that he had no intention of getting up anytime soon. The adult sighed and squatted down to face the teen as he lifted the pillow a little.

"Come on Scorp." He said gently, meeting the boy's gray eyes under messy black hair and offered him a small smile, "I know you didn't want this, frankly, I'd prefer we'd stay as well but that is not possible. I almost lost you last year, I can't risk that again."

"And you think moving back among the people who hate you - the people who basically drove you off, will keep me safe?" The teen asked doubtfully, giving his dad a disbelieving look from under the pillow. The blonde man gave him a sad smile and pushed away a few locks of black hair from gray eyes.

"That is why this is the last place anyone would think we'd go to, which makes it the safest - for now at least." The adult replied and gave the teen a little peck on his temple before standing back up.

"Be down soon okay?" He said and lifted the cover from the floor and threw it over the boy, "Your grandmother had the house elves prepare breakfast."

"Dad?" The boy said, his voice was small and slightly hoarse from sleep and made the adult male turn back to him, "How can you just accept them like this? After everything…"

The blonde gave his son a sad smile.

"It's not really a choice Scorp." He answered, "There will be things in life, which you really don't wanna do, but have to, because of certain circumstances. All you can do is suck it up and deal with it."

(...)

Draco Malfoy stopped by the window in the small corridor as he was leaving his son's room. He looked over the perfect manor garden to the small surrounding town.

Almost 16 years. That's how long it had been since he'd last seen that particular view. 16 years of struggles and happiness, away from the hateful and judgmental looks. The first many years in New Orleans had been some of his hardest, getting by in a world, completely unknown to him and far away from everything and everyone he knew, all the while taking care of a child. Little Scorpius had gotten Draco through a period in his life, where he had wanted to give up so many times. With humiliating jobs, which made very little money, making it hard just to get through the day to day life, Draco had reminded himself, over and over why and who he was enduring all the pain for. Scorpius had been his one focus point. His one purpose for all those years.

One day, Draco had been found by a friendly soul in the form of an old witch. She had pulled Draco and Scorpius out of the small flat in the French Quarter and helped Draco into magical politics, where he quickly had risen in positions through hard work, knowing Scorpius to be safe and comfortable in the old witch's care. She had treated to the two as if they had been her own family and made sure Scorpius got the best possible education.

Draco had been happy, until a wizard had appeared, threatening the life of his son.

The moment Draco had learned about Scorpius' conception, he'd known the child to be special. The prophecy in the old book, he found in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library, when he was 18, had confirmed it. Unfortunately, as it was with any prophesied child, there would always be others knowing how special they were as well. Draco let out a dry laugh and shook his head. History sure had a cruel way of repeating itself. The blonde man couldn't help being a little envious off James and Lily Potter, who'd never had to deal with the fact that their son was a 'chosen one'. Being the single parent of a prophesied child was nerve wrecking. For years, there had been no one he could turn to or ask for help. Draco had been alone with the task of raising and protecting his son.

Draco sighed and looked away from the window, making his way back to the dining room. Scorpius had been right to question the decision to return. It had been the last thing Draco wanted, to once again live under his parents and depend on them, but what choice did he have? There was no way they could have stayed in their old home in New Orleans, no matter how much Draco had wanted to. It had become way too dangerous as the man, who wanted Scorpius dead, rose in power more and more with each day. Draco thought about the friends they'd left behind, friends who had become family over the years. He wondered how they were holding up against the raising tyrant. They were all powerful individuals and even stronger together, but so was their foe. Draco reminded himself, not to take too long to make contact and make sure they were still somewhat still alive.

(...)

Scorpius sighed exasperated and threw the pillow off.

Fucking Marik.

As if trying to kill him wasn't enough, the wizard had to go and ruin Scorpius' life further by scaring his family enough to move away from everything he knew and loved.

Scorpius pushed off his covers and sat up in bed. He looked around in the unfamiliar surroundings of what was to be his room from now on. Heaps of boxes, he hadn't bothered to unpack and cold gray walls surrounded him, turning his mood even more sour. This throughoutly sucked. His life was officially over and done. This was way worse than facing Marik in a death match as he had done only a few months ago. Scorpius would rather go through all that again if it meant he could stay with his friends at his old school in New Orleans. What was the name of this school his dad had enrolled him at? Hogwarts? What a fucking stupid name. Scorpius huffed as he remembered where he had heard that particular school name before.

Quidditch. Inter school World Cup two years ago. They had been a lousy team and the seeker of the winning school, had wondered, how they had even managed to qualify for the World Cup. They had been a fucking joke. Especially their seeker. Scorpius had snatched the snitch right in front of his nose after playing for only two minutes.

Was that really his future? Being part of those losers? His friends back home would be laughing their asses off when they found out. Scorpius groaned and rolled out of bed, hissing as his feet hit the icy cold floor.

This house, just what was the deal, this old ass house. It was cold, creaking, drafty and overall extremely uninviting, Scorpius had a hard time believing his dad had grown up in this house and actually held affection for it. The teen shivered as he entered the bathroom. God, how he missed heated floors and proper isolation, not to mention all the perks of being the son of a successful politician. Living the luxurious life for the past six years, Scorpius had hoped the poor lifestyle was something of his past. However, although his grandparents wanted to keep up appearances, it was clear to the insider, that the old mansion was falling apart and there was no fortune to renovate it. More than anything, the fading building reminded the teen more and more of his childhood home and not in the good, happy-childhood-memories kind of way.

Being a refugee sucked, Scorpius thought sourly and glared back at his reflection in the dusty cracked mirror. The teen sighed, waving his hand indifferently and the dust and dirt immediately cleared from the mirror as the cracks fixed themselves.

Fucking fantastic.

(...)

"I fucking hate this place."

The three older Malfoys looked up as the youngest entered the dining room and dropped down next to his grandmother and across his dad.

"Language, young man." Lucius Malfoy commented sternly behind his newspaper. Something called the Daily Prophet.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Scorpius' dad responded and gave him an amused smile. Narcissa merely greeted her grandson with a short nod and handed him butter and toast. Scorpius glanced at his grandparents. He still didn't feel entirely relaxed around them. He still didn't really know them. It had only been a few years since they had accepted his dad's choice to have him and move away from everything. None of them had been there in the past, when Scorpius and his dad had needed them. It had been as if they'd only accepted their son, once he had made a name for himself in the American magical society. Scorpius had been thirteen when he first met his grandparents.

"So, dad," Scorpius began and took a bite of his butter and jam toast, "since we're back here, are you gonna tell him?"

Draco Malfoy choked on his juice and coughed violently, before meeting his son's glance.

"Why should I?" He answered with a hint of bitterness, ignoring his parent's looks, "Do you want me to tell him?"

Scorpius shrugged and sipped his juice.

"I've managed so far, haven't I?" He asked nonchalantly, "I've got you, I don't need him."

Draco smiled and leaned back in his chair, looking at his son proudly. His son, who was slowly becoming a man, despite the challenges of the last few years. Scorpius was right, they didn't need him. Draco had decided a long time ago, that if he had wanted to be part of their lives, he would have come to them.

"It's settled then." The blonde man said and stood up smiling at his son, "We don't need him. Now, get your ass ready Scorp, we're leaving in half an hour."

(...)

"You got to be kidding me!" Scorpius exclaimed as they entered Kings Cross Peron nine three quarter. The teen gaped at the red, steaming locomotive in front of him. His dad came through the magical barrier and stopped next to him.

"I know. Quite marvelous, isn't it?" He asked, just a little excited to see the old train again. Despite everything that had happened, Hogwarts still held quite a few fond memories, as did everything connected to it. Scorpius gave his father an incredulous look.

"Marvellous?!" He exclaimed, face twisted in disgust, "It's a fucking relic. Haven't they reached the 21st century here in England yet?"

Draco laughed at his son's comment and ruffled his hair, messing it up even more, which clearly bothered the teen, if his loud protests were anything to go by.

"Good one Scorp." Draco said amused, "Now, get your stuff on the relic, I'll get your ticket."

Scorpius mumbled a 'whatever' and dragged himself along the Peron, hands deep in his pocket and a scowl on his face. Draco crooked a smile as he watched his son disappear in the crowd when he suddenly felt his phone vibrating and pulled it out of his pocket.

The display announced a facetime call from Granny Tempest.

"Tempest!" Draco said and smiled relieved when he saw the old lady on the display. Thin white hair tied back in a knot and gentle blue eyes.

"You have no idea how good it is to see a friendly face." The man sighed and sat down at one of the vacant benches.

"It's that bad, huh?" The woman asked and sat down, getting comfortable in a high chair, "Let it out then and tell me all about it."

"I really don't know where to begin, Tempie." Draco admitted and drove a tired hand through blonde hair, "It's like, nothing has changed over the last 16 years. People are the same, with their looks full of judgment and their whispers behind my back and my parents are the same." He began and continued on to tell the elder woman about the few weeks he and Scorpius had been back in England.

(...)

Scorpius strolled down the Peron, moving in between the excited students and their parents as they dragged along their heavy trunks. The teen scoffed and pulled out a tiny box from his pants pocket. Didn't they know about shrinking spells? Just how out of date were these people? He threw his small trunk in the air, catching it effortlessly and put it back in his pants, just as he noticed an all too familiar figure in the corner of his eye. The person smirked, having realized Scorpius' eyes on him and pushed himself off the wall and headed for a neglected waiting room. Scorpius growled annoyed and followed him.

"What are you doing here, Heron?" He asked annoyed, entering the waiting area. The young man, blond hair and cold blue eyes turned to face the teenager with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Scorpius, fancy seeing you here, right?" He asked cheerfully as if he was talking to an old friend, which, by all means, he wasn't, "England, really? Going back to the place where your family is loathed. Quite clever, points to Draco for that one."

Scorpius sneered impatiently and nodded his head, throwing Heron into the tiled wall behind him with an unspoken spell. Heron laughed through the coughs as he tried to regain the breath, knocked out of him and stumbled back to his feet.

"You know a small fry like me is no match for you," He said in a strained and pained voice as he looked up at Scorpius, "I'm not here for you. This is entirely a coincidence. I was actually sent out to locate Nathaniel."

Scorpius took a step back, confused by the sudden mention of that particular name. It still hurt, he noted, hearing it spoken out loud, despite the months gone by.

"Locating Nate, why?" He asked, ignoring the small pang in his chest. Heron gave the teen a curious look.

"You should know why, shouldn't you?" He said with a small huff, standing up completely, "After all, the little traitor helped you. If it wasn't for him…" Heron let out an angry sneer and looked at Scorpius, "Marik isn't one to forgive and forget such betrayal, not even from Nathaniel - Marik wants him dead."

Scorpius closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was just perfect. They had barely settled in this godforsaken country and already Marik would know their location. No doubt he would be here within days, as the news reached him. Unless they didn't. Scorpius opened his eyes slowly and looked at Heron, eyes darkening.

"You're right Heron," He began and took a small step forward, "You're no match for me, and I'm sorry, but I can't let you tell Marik where I am."

Scorpius waved his hand and once again sent Heron flying into the tiled wall. The teen stood still, watching as the man slowly regained consciousness, blinked and looked up at Scorpius with a puzzled look.

"Who are you? Where am I?" He asked and looked around, looking utterly confused.

"I don't know who you are." Scorpius answered coldly, "When I came in here, you were sleeping on the ground."

Scorpius closed the door to the waiting room behind him and headed back towards the train. The crowd on the perron had increased as the time for departure was getting closer. Scorpius moved through student after student saying their goodbyes to parents and siblings. The teen deliberately looked away from the happy families and excited students. Scorpius already felt in a foul mood as it was, he didn't need reminding how far away his own family was and those he'd already lost. It was painful, the teen had realized, being ripped apart from them like this. Being torn from everything he'd known, even if it hadn't always been easy, New Orleans and all it's odd existences had been his home. The people of the French Quarter had been his friends and family. Not like these people, surrounding him at the perron. Scorpius had never felt more out of place than he did among the people of his parents.

"James, why are you…"

Scorpius was pulled out of his musings when a warm hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. The teen looked behind him and was immediately met with a pair of bespectacled deep green eyes and froze.

"Oh sorry." The man apologized, looking a little flushed, "You looked like my son from behind." He explained and drove a hand through black messy hair, looking around. Scorpius stared at the man, unable to tear away his eyes. He had imagined this exact moment for as long as he could remember. He had thought up entire conversations and dozens of directions it could take. His stomach flipped over with at least a million questions, but every single one of them seemed to get stuck in his throat, painfully choking him.

"I…" Scorpius opened his mouth, but no matter how much he pushed, nothing else seemed to get out. The man looked back at him, with a questioning look and a friendly smile.

"Scorpius!"

The teen turned away from the man to see his dad move through the crowd, quickly approaching Scorpius, waving a small piece of paper in his hand. Scorpius looked at his dad, feeling a sense of relief and took the tickets handed to him without question.

"Harry…" The blonde man whispered when he finally laid eyes on the man with Scorpius. Harry Potter turned his eyes to the other man. Green eyes confused for a moment before he gave him the same smile he had given Scorpius. The kind of smile you politely give people you don't know. The teen looked from the famous war hero to his dad and saw an all too familiar hurt and confusion in his dad's eyes before they hardened and he turned his attention to Scorpius.

"Get on the train Scorpius." He said, an almost inaudible shaking in his voice. Scorpius gave his dad a short nod and turned away to board the train.

(...)

Scorpius dropped down in one of the empty compartments and pulled up his hood. Crossing his arms, the teen leaned his head against the cold window and closed his eyes. His thoughts quickly drifted back to the earlier encounter, which had felt so surreal. Scorpius had wanted to kick and scream at the man, for not being there for the entirety of his life. He had wanted to hex him, for not choosing him. Scorpius had wanted to blame the man for all the nights he'd heard his dad cry silently and all the times he'd had to push away those tears to give a brave smile to the small Scorpius.

All this scared the teen.

He had thought he didn't care about the man and he had wanted nothing more than to hate him for everything. Scorpius had kept up a brave front, all these years, telling people he hadn't needed the man, that he could do without and stubbornly ignored the painful pang in his guts, every time he said it. With nothing but a touch and a look, all that had crumbled completely. The teen had been just about ready to let it all out in a messy fit, not caring about the consequences of such a public outburst, when his dad had turned up.

His dad.

How weird and painful it must have been to see him. No doubt he had noticed how it was affecting Scorpius, which was why he had told him to get on the train immediately. Once again, his dad had thought about Scorpius before himself, even in a situation, which undoubtedly was emotionally stressful for him as well. Scorpius made a mental note to write his dad, first chance he got, to make sure he was okay.

The boy closed the front door carefully and tiptoed from the hall, dropping his wet schoolbag and torn jacket by the cracked mirror. He sent one glance to the bedroom door, slightly ajar, before stepping out into the cold bathroom. A train drove by, shaking the small apartment, causing the plastic cup to drop from the sink. The boy picked it up and turned on the water. He filled the cup and poured the lukewarm water in his mouth. He winced in pain when the water clashed with his sore mouth. Red water spilled out in the dirty sink, along with a single tooth. The boy cursed and put a finger in his mouth, touching his aching gums carefully. Another tooth gone. He looked into the mirror and found a pale looking figure staring back at him, face covered in cuts, bruises, and a single black eye.

"Scorp?"

The boy looked up to find his dad in the door, dressed in pajama pants and leaning against the frame as he drew a hand through blonde hair tiredly.

"If you were home, why didn't you wake me?" He asked gently and stifled a yawn. Scorpius looked away from his dad, avoiding any eye contact as he answered.

"You've been working all night, I didn't…" The boy began, feeling a little embarrassed about his condition. He then felt strong arms close around his small frame and a gentle kiss on top of his head.

"I'm your dad love," The man said softly, "I'm first and foremost here for you. I appreciate you thinking about me, but you don't need to worry about me."

Scorpius clenched his eyes shut and soon felt a salty tear touch a cut painfully.

"Dad," He chocked and looked up at the man, "I'm sorry…"

The blonde's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the cuts and bruises in his sins face.

"What happened this time?" He asked, worry evident in his eyes, as he kneeled down in front of the boy and took a wet piece of cloth.

"They… called you names…" Scorpius answered and let out a small hiccup as tears began anew when his dad started washing the dried blood from his son's face, "They said you were a man whore and…"

The blonde gave the boy a sad smile and kissed his forehead softly. He rested his head against the boy's and closed his eyes, drawing a long sigh.

"I've told you multiple times Scorp, that's no reason to get into trouble with boys older and stronger than you." He said and opened his eyes, locking them with the boy's clean gray ones.

"But it's not fair and they have no right to!" Scorpius insisted, not hiding his frustration. The blonde pulled the boy into an embrace.

"No, they don't," He admitted in a small whisper, "but love, you're only five," He said and pulled out a little, taking a good look at his son, "you shouldn't be fighting or concerned about what people are calling your dad, you should be playing carefreely with those your own age."

The boy looked down at his fingers fiddling.

"Yes, dad." He mumbled self-consciously and looked up at his dad hesitantly. The blonde gave him a small smile and nodded.

"Now, sit there and let me get a proper look at you." He said and pointed at the toilet. Scorpius did what he was told and watched his dad, as the blonde took out a couple of bottles from the cabinet he couldn't reach. The magic cabinet, containing all the ingredients to make all sorts ofspecial drinks. He watched, as his dad prepared him, yet another healing potion, bony hands skilfully mixing ingredients and eyes focused, despite the heavy dark shades under them. This wasn't the first time Scorpius came home bruised and battered and it wouldn't be the last.

A/N: So, what did you think?