Summary: CURSED CHILD AU. There's a rumor going around another dark wizard has taken Voldemort's place and people are pointing at Scorpius Malfoy. It doesn't help that a series of murders Harry Potter had been investigating all around England seems to be connected with Voldermort. Albus Severus Potter is not exactly blessed with unlimited talents like his father, so, he recruited his cousin, Rose, for good measure and counted all the defensive spells he knew.

If they were going to fight, then by Merlin, he was going in prepared like a proper Slytherin.

A/N: With lock down in place, hopefully I can have the time I need to update regularly. Tell me what you think down at the comments. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.

1 September 2021,

King's Cross Station, London

Students loitered around, shouting and laughing. Some were even crying as they said their goodbyes. It was a glorious morning, the sun bursting through the grey sky as if to cast upon the impending departure with blessing. Everyone was in an excitable mood, blissful even, that they're day was only to get better and better the moment they arrived at Hogwarts.

But Scorpius Malfoy stood quietly with his father in an obscure corner, his eyes casting glances at busybodies, almost skittish but resigned. Draco gave his son a worried look, concealed with a light tug at his son's green tie as he straightened it. Scorpius had been practicing harder and harder with his magic all summer with a wand without the Trace, locked up deep in their family's library, his jaw clenched and his grey eyes determined. Draco had let him, had even given him the spare wand for practice. He encouraged his son pursuing being faster and stronger in a fight. Astoria would have argued about its necessity being unnecessary. His dear wife would have discouraged even imagining her son having even the smallest schoolboy skirmish, much less battle ready. But Draco knew firsthand how easily tides can turn. Even in peace time, there would be no harm in being ready.

Besides, Draco had a feeling his son's new concern for combat magic stems from the one thing even Draco cannot easily defeat. Grief.

It was their first summer without Astoria. They had both floundered about the copious amount of time on their hands and the deafening silence that surrounded their home. Draco had taken Scorpius to Paris and to the Bahamas and they were both sufficiently distracted. For a time. They had to return home eventually, after all. Coming up with nothing to say, Draco had let Scorpius escape to the library as soon as they finished breakfast one morning. There, Scorpius stayed for most of the summer holidays. It was good for a while. Scorpius had even seemed to be enjoying himself learning new spells. But then, it became intense. His son had obsessively combed through the books, researching and writing out advance, powerful spells. Draco had the good sense to remove all of the dark magic books he had acquired from Malfoy Manor. Those were in no business being in a 15-year-old teenager's hands. Especially his 15-year-old teenager.

Draco had never been able to figure out what his son was looking for in the library exactly, only that when Scorpius seemed overwhelmed, he dragged his son away from the shadows of dusty, old books, put him on a broom and let him fly. Scorpius is a good flyer, Draco had made sure he was growing up, after all. It was something they had done together when Scorpius was small. Astoria would often settle in one of the bleached chairs in the spacious gardens filled with pink roses, watching them make loops in the air, cheering for her boys. Those were often their good days. Scorpius would show off for his mother and do daring stunts. He would dare take sharper turns and dive higher falls, catching himself just in the nick of time. Draco would always pretend to scold him after those stunts but snuck treats when Astoria glanced away. Scorpius would beam and trot away with the sweets while he would look back to Astoria and see her with the same beaming grin as their son's. Flying had been special for them as a family. But for the life of him, he never understood why his son never made the Slytherin Quidditch Team.

That's a lie. Draco knew why, and it pained him each time he is reminded why.

"Are you alright, Scorpius?" Draco asked casually, straightening his son's robes like a mother hen. This is what he's been reduced to; hovering. He missed Astoria with an ache stronger than ever.

"I'm alright, Father." Scorpius answered unfailingly each time he asked. "Just nervous, is all."

"Write to me when you think there's even a hint of trouble." Draco commanded but used a gentler tone. As Astoria once did. Scorpius melted slightly at the words. "I don't care how small it is. That Potter boy better not drag you in some grand adventure like his father's lot did."

Scorpius' nose turned up. "He's Slytherin like me, too, and you know it."

"I do, which makes it even more deplorable." Draco said, looking past Scorpius shoulder. As if summoned, there was the Potter boy striding towards them, now. Draco had bestowed the boy the honor of being a personal migraine. "An ambitiously brave teenager makes for a reckless one."

Scorpius smiled, looking behind him knowingly.

"Stay out of trouble." Draco bid before stepping back and allowing the Potter boy to enter their small space.

"Mr. Malfoy, good morning." Albus Potter greeted with a polite smile, his hands behind his back. During the summer, the boy had grown a few inches as much as Scorpius have. They both made a cutting figure, standing side to side. A figurative trip back in time. It gave Draco whiplash. For the life of him, he cannot even resent the boy. He had manners his father once didn't have.

Draco nodded back in response and added, "Mr. Potter, I trust you had a good summer?"

"Yes, sir." Albus Potter answered dutifully with a chipped expression. "It was acceptable."

Scorpius stiffened at Albus' response. Draco sighed internally.

"You best both be going. Don't want to get left behind. Merlin forbid you two find a flying metal contraption to take you there." Draco commented, the last part under his breath. But both boys still heard and gave him puzzled expressions. So, Weasel and Potter hadn't told their offspring that story yet. Draco hopes they never will. It'll only encourage them. Nevertheless, his son was not getting into a damn enchanted muggle car, over his dead body.

When the children have all boarded the train and waved them goodbye, one by one, the adults began to disperse. Draco might have left the moment Scorpius was out of sight but a pair of green eyes held him in place. Draco stiffened his posture, and waited patiently for everyone else to disappear. Potter drew closer as the stationed emptied out. Although many disapproved, it was acknowledged that their sons had a steadfast friendship and no one batted an eye anymore when they spoke curt words to each other in public.

The world used to stop if they so much as looked eye-to-eye across a street. When their sons arrived home after their first year at Hogwarts side by side, they nearly broke into a fist fight. Astoria's steady hand on his sleeve was the only thing that stopped him from reaching for his wand. After a couple more meetings, they were able to be civil and it has lost its novelty eventually. Speaking to Potter like this was no longer a spectacle.

"Malfoy." Potter greeted.

"Potter" Draco returned.

"There are dangerous rumors spreading about your son, Malfoy." Potter began. He'd always been blunt and tactless. Draco gritted his teeth. He'd hoped he wouldn't have to talk about this with anyone at all. "Tell Scorpius to stay away from Albus."

Draco's pale eyes turned to slits. "I would, if you could tell Albus to stay away from Scorpius."

Potter's face contorted in rage. Yes, Draco knew all about the troubles of Potter's home life. Scorpius never shared it with him but he can see and put the pieces of an unhappy childhood together himself. Albus Severus Potter was not a typical Potter or Weasley. He was something else altogether on his own. Draco had never doubted for a second that boy belonged to Slytherin.

"You should teach your son not to be a tattletale running to his father, Malfoy." Potter nearly spat venom.

Draco scoffed. "Scorpius is as loyal as a Hufflepuff it used to give me nightmares before he was sorted. No, I put that together myself. It's not hard to see, after all. You aren't as good a father as you've led everyone to believe."

"And you are?" Potter growled, his fists clenching at his sides. Draco shrugged, casting a subtle glance at the shadow moving from the pillar a few feet away. Ah, it's the Weasel.

"Only Scorpius has the right to tell you that, Potter, if he even would." Draco drawled, dusting the front of his robes. "We owe you no explanation."

"Even when there are mysterious murders happening all over the country? Even the dead muggles? Even with the rumors about your own son?" Potter's voice has reached a higher octave, shouting his words at Draco's face.

Draco took a steadying breath, a phantom pressure on his sleeve. "Are you accusing my son of murdering highly trained death eaters and experienced witches and wizards, Auror Potter?"

His levelheaded demeanor seemed to have taken Potter aback. He hadn't been expecting for Draco to be collected when he confronted him.

Good, it'll teach him. Draco thought heatedly, feeling vindicated.

"He's not, Malfoy," Weasel appeared by Potter's side and yanked him away from Draco's face. "He's just a little stressed, is all."

"Good. Hope you feel better, Potter." Malfoy offered with a condescending smirk and apparated away. He landed just outside of the mansion's parameters, the wards holding steady as he settled himself. He checked for the protective lining around the premises, added a few more for fortification, before heading into the cool shade of his home, now empty and deafeningly quiet.

He allowed himself a moment to simply sit on one of the grand staircases by the foyer. Unlike Malfoy Manor, his home was brightly lit and shiningly polished. Astoria had taken one look of his boyhood home when he had introduced her to his parents and immediately vowed to never allow him to live in such a dark place again. Even then, just the promise of her light brightening his life had made standing up to his parents all the more worth it. And it was the best decision of his life. Certainly, worth everything else that followed.

But now, he was alone, his son off to school. Astoria's lingering light was slowly fading away, her death a shroud he endeavored to put off for as long as he can. In the end, she was right. She never wanted him to be alone after she passed away. Draco thought he'd be able to withstand it as long as he could have all of her time but, in truth, without Scorpius, he may have followed her even then. Scorpius is the only reason he had to live.

Astoria was gone. The Wizarding World belittled her passing, insulted her with baseless allegations. And now, they're coming after her son.

No, they won't have him. Draco thought vehemently, standing and stomping into his study where clandestine letters and missives lay scattered on his desk. I promise you, Astoria, they won't take our boy.

Draco ran a hand through his blonde locks. Potter had mentioned something that bothered him. Something about muggles…